LIFE CYCLE WAY BETTER?
Sat nav or map? It depends on the wasps, says
My dad didn’t need maps. Unlike many blokes, he wasn’t too proud to stop and ask people for directions. Frequently, en route, in pubs. On my childhood holidays, us kids sat in the car eating crisps while he diligently researched at the bar. It took us two days to get from Hull to Glasgow.
One of my regular cycling chums is the opposite. He plans our routes in detail using online open-source mapping, and rides them virtually in Google Street View beforehand.
This defeats some of the point for me, but it can be useful. When we planned a tour in Finland he could not only check that one village stop had a supermarket, but also confirm that it opened on Saturdays by zooming in on the A-board outside.
Of course, I do use technology. My phone’s GPS is invaluable when lost in a sprawling French suburb, say, or following a ‘path’ that turns out to be an indistinct farm track around four sides of a square, such as a long-distance Sustrans route. (All Sustrans routes are long-distance, even the ones into town.)
Judicious Street View research can be vital for determining if that horrible dual carriageway stretch has a shareduse footpath when you’re riding with children, or if that snicket shortcut is wide enough to push a bike through to the Aldi, and a heavily-laden bike back.
I still prefer paper though. I want the celestial overview that a proper Ordnance Survey map gives you, the sense of possibility, the advance feel it gives for a ride. They need no power source, GPS or Wi-Fi and they aren’t controlled by advertisers. And an iPhone is useless for blatting a wasp, even with the Ordnance Survey layer enabled on Bing Maps.
I used to live in Japan, and was often asked if we had an equivalent of origami. I told them it was map folding: the traditional national art of reconstructing the Tourist Info cycle map so that the bit you want is at the front. I never did manage to explain English humour.
I also don’t like the idea of slavishly following GPS, a handlebar dictator nagging me constantly to turn here or there, beeping peevishly when I disobey. I’m happy to stop now and then to have some water, check the test cricket score, consult the paper map, and realise there’s a longer but nicer way down that tempting back lane by the pond.
My backside is often grateful for map stops too. The idea that it takes 1000 miles for your bum to break in a leather saddle seems way out to me: it took me about 3000, and was the other way around.
Your handlebar may be more laden with gadgets than mine – if you ride a recumbent, it definitely will be – and that’s great. We’re all free to choose. On bikes we control the technology. But in cars it controls us. I rarely drive, but when I do I’m often frustrated. Why no handle to wind down the window? I’m forced to do it via the dashboard touchscreen computer. Ah, ‘Shut down windows’, that’ll be it.
From December, the driving test will require candidates to follow a sat nav. Maybe by 2050 self-driving vehicles will make the ‘test’ consist solely of pressing the ‘on’ button. Self-driving e-bikes may not be far behind. Actually, no: as self-driving cars will lead to more cars and even more congestion, bikes will probably be out in front.
Is it only a matter of time before cycling proficiency training follows the trend, and involves using technology? Bikeability, the system usually taught to kids, could teach them essential modern skills: how to work GPS, use Strava Segments, create a Whatsapp group for the weekend ride, or set up a Spotify playlist suitable to entertain a through-thenight-ride audax group.
Talking of which, aforesaid cycling chum recently cycled up from Cambridge in a group to see us in York. He was ride DJ, so his minimalist luggage space was largely occupied by his Bluetooth speaker setup. No room for a change of clothes, then, when he turned up at our house to stay for the weekend. Luckily we’re very good friends.
In Japan I was often asked if we had an equivalent for origami. I told them it was map folding