TRIP HAZARDS
A recuperating Rob Ainsley wonders about the stats on non-traffic-related cycling injuries
You know how they tell you to Mind the Gap at railway stations? Well, I didn’t. It wasn’t impatience or carelessness. I’d stepped off the train with my bike to let another cyclist off, and I was jostling to get back on. The vestibule was packed – this was the notorious North Wales Coast Line, avoided by sardines because it’s too crowded for them. The door beepers were going, the train was running late, staff were shouting to get a move on. In the chaos, I slipped. My right leg crashed down the mystic void between train and platform edge.
The protruding step ran a mighty gash down my shin, as if a brutal centre-back had tackled me studsup behind the ref’s back. My blood smeared the vestibule like a toddler with a jar of blackberry jam.
The excellent first-aid guy said an ambulance would be six hours. I didn’t fancy cycling to A&E, so I continued travelling. The adrenaline and paracetamol then kicked in so I thought better of overstretching the NHS (also, the first aider was an Afghanistan veteran, which rather put my injuries in perspective).
Some friends haven’t been so lucky. One slid off on black ice during a club run, shattered his hip, and missed a year’s work. Another was off the bike six months with head and shoulder injuries after a mystery roundabout crash, apparently vehiclefree; no witnesses, no CCTV, no memory of what happened. Another skidded on leaves and smashed his wrists, stymieing his family’s round-the-world sailing trip. Another makes more Strava posts about his post-fall physio than most do about rides. All these happened in winter. Ouch.
It makes you wonder how dangerous road or gravel-trail cycling is – and I’m talking only where no vehicles are involved. Skids, tumbles, mechanicals, wheel contact, over-enthusiastic braking, or that one for the road that unfortunately proved literal.
I can’t find figures on this. Each year about 10,000 cyclists are non-seriously injured in road accidents reported to the police. But as for non-reported ones, it’s anyone’s guess. So here are mine. Fate, please look away now. In 40 years of more-or-less daily cycling, I’ve only had scrapes once or twice a decade. All were minor: no worse than my Mind-the-Gap fail. I’m assuming that actually counts. I wasn’t even riding. What about ricking your back using those stupid new vertical-storage bike-hook closets on trains? Is that a ‘cycling accident’? If so, that would skew the stats.
Anyway, it suggests a rate of about one incident per 30,000 miles. Not too bad. My casualty rate for other activities is worse. Kitchen knife mishaps: about one sliced finger per 1,000 onions. Twisted ankles hillwalking: about one per 500 miles. Broken bones playing football: about one per goal scored (not counting own goals). The organisation Cycling UK says gardening’s more dangerous per hour than cycling. I wouldn’t know; I’ve never done any. Best steer clear of ladders, horizontal rakes or secateurs.
My friends’ tales of woe were distressing. Not now, obviously. They’re fully recovered, so we tease them about it: tragedy plus time equals comedy. But hang on: in my circle, there are at least a hundred regular day-ride or about-town cyclists and almost all do it without incident. So the nasty-injury-per-year rate for cyclists of regular mileages looks only a few per cent. That’s pretty low. Or is it? I’m not sure.
What I am sure about is that I get steadily more cautious as I get older. No more downhills that bust 40mph. Now I back off at 30. Once I blasted through deep puddles for fun. Now it’s the wary option round the side. Avoiding ice was something I did only in whisky bars. Now I take a frost-dodging route in the afternoon thaw. Minding the Gap next time might help too. Safe cycling this winter, everyone.
“A friend skidded on leaves and smashed his wrists, stymieing his family’s round-theworld sailing trip”