Rob Ainsley has bikes on the mind

Worried you end up talking bikes always, everywhere? Relax. You’re not alone

I’m obsessed with bikes. I write on a few subjects, including maths and classical music. I recently got a text asking me for some quick, brief words about Wagner’s Ring Cycle. The operas? A new area of algebraic geometry? Or, as I couldn’t help imagining, a Kickstarter concept bike? I replied: “Ingeniously constructed, but heavy going and simply too big – beginners should avoid”, which worked for all three.

I recently gave a talk on Venn diagrams. But instead of elementary set theory, I went off about cycling in Hull. “Drypool Bridge is decorated with a diagram-inspired artwork celebrating the inventor, local man John Venn. It looks like a 1960s shower curtain. The last leg of the Trans Pennine Trail runs from right here to Hornsea. The full TPT stretches 207 miles from Southport, but there are terrible steps at Widnes, where...”

Similarly astray went my lecture on the Hilbert Hotel; the ‘paradox’ that an infinitely big hotel fully occupied can nevertheless make infinitely many rooms free by moving people around. As a jokey illustration, I showed a room key photo from my stay at a Machynlleth pub: the ‘8’, on its side, looked like the symbol for infinity. Off I went, rambling: “I was cycling the Welsh End to End, Chepstow to Holyhead. It’s a cracking ride through awesome scenery. From Abergavenny, Gospel Pass is Wales’s highest road, a super climb, which...”

No topic is safe from me sidetracking. And it’s usually down a bike route. ‘Hyperboloids are the curve of cooling towers. Like at Ferrybridge, which I biked past while following all Yorkshire’s rivers by bike. Swaledale, then Wharfedale, then Airedale...

‘Suspension bridge cables describe parabolas, like the Humber Bridge. It’s the world’s biggest cyclable bridge, and now open to bikes again after a onemonth closure on “security grounds”. The best approach is from North Ferriby...’

My music-mag feature on Elgar’s Worcestershire became less about late-romantic British symphonism, and more a vintage bike review. “While writing the Enigma Variations Elgar, a keen cyclist, would stop by the river here, and no doubt relax with a cider at the Talbot Inn. From here, Ankerdine Hill rises 122m over 1.6km of 7.4 per cent: not easy on his straight-gauge, steel-frame Golden Sunbeam, weighing 17kg. And no gears – the threespeed Sturmey-Archer wasn’t on Sunbeams until 1902 – while the rod brakes offered little stopping power. As for the sprung leather saddle...”

No wonder I failed so many job interviews. ‘I didn’t drive here, I came by train and folding bike. No, not Brompton, my Dahon Speed TR. Comfier ride, see, 20-inch wheels, the largest generally admitted as a folder on public transport. Three-speed SRAM hub with eight-speed derailleur and 11-34 cassette, lowest gear ratio 0.73, enough for even 1 in 4s. Handles well under load too... Oh, right, thanks. That way out, is it?’

And I’m no good at parties. ‘Nice to meet you too. Oh, which part of Yorkshire? Yeah, I know the Moors. You done the Cleveland Way? Hambleton Road, the old drovers’ route? Fabulous gravel bike ride, they’ve recently tarmacked the lane at the end down to Kildale, great descent, watch the bend near the bottom, joins NCN168, or go NCN65 to Middlesbrough, though the Transporter Bridge is closed for refurb, and... Ah, yes, I’ll let you mingle...’

I’m obsessed with bikes. I know. And I don’t care. Here’s why. Those people that cut short the interview? Or edged nervously away at the party? They’re chasing me up now on social media. Asking how to get into cycling, what to buy, where to ride.

And of course I encourage them. Welcome to our party, I say. Because now they’re obsessed with bikes too. I hope they enjoyed having a career while it lasted.

“My music-mag feature on Elgar’s Worcestershire became more of a vintage bike review...”