A new fixation

I have a new toy.

My very kind wife bought me a new bike for Christmas. She actually gave it to me a few months ago but I justified the expenditure by agreeing to forego the annual visit from Santa.

“A new bike?” you ask. So what's it got? SRAM red? DuraAce? Maybe the new 11 speed Campy?

From the Penny-farthing with its pedals attached directly to the front wheel, through the Safety Bicycle that drove the rear wheel via a chain and the invention of the freewheel, right down to the addition of gears bicycle technology has come a long way in the last 150 years.

Each innovation was aimed at making the bicycle safer, faster and more efficient. Surely then a cyclist would have the most up-to-date equipment that they could afford, right? Um yes, well...

Cyclists are a funny bunch and every now and then a faction will insist on retaining old technology in some misguided belief that it is somehow better than the new-fangled stuff available. Lugged steel frames. Rolls leather saddles. Fixed wheel bicycles.

That's right – my new bike is a fixie. For the uninitiated, a fixie (or fixed wheel bike) is one that has only one gear and no freewheel. If the rear wheel is turning then so are the pedals.

In the time I have been riding it I have made a few observations:

• you never realise how often you stop pedalling on an average ride until you can't. A fixie is none too subtle in reminding you of that fact either!
• never before have I reached the bottom of a hill and thought “phew, I'm glad that's over!”
• it's amazing how many corners you really can pedal around. It's also amazing how long it takes the brain to catch up with this discovery. Is adrenalin performance enhancing??

Surprising as it might sound, there are some real advantages to riding a fixie:

• it's cheap. The first time I rode the new bike with my wife when I had the realisation that my whole bike cost 1/11 th of what her frame cost. My legs are also probably about 1/11 th as good as hers too, mind.
• it teaches you how to pedal fast and smooth. OK, it uses predominantly negative reinforcement (being bucked off the bike if you get it wrong is a negative in anyone's book) but you sure learn fast. Or you end up selling the bike in order to pay for your dental reconstruction;
• it is a great commuting bike. With no derailleurs on the bike there is less to go wrong and less to clean if you end up riding it in the rain. It also means you get a solid workout no matter how short the ride to work. Oh hang on, this is supposed to be a list of advantages isn't it??
• it is less likely to be nicked. First it doesn't look all that tempting due to the lack of shiny bits hanging off the frame. Second, if someone does pinch it, chances are you will find the bike lying on the ground close by... along with the miscreant. That would be the place they first tried to stop pedalling.

I'm really enjoying my new bike. Goes to show that it's not all about the latest technology.

I'll see you out on the road. (I'll be the one spinning like a madman.)

Tortoise

Let me tell you about the time I...

Well that's an hour of my life I will never get back. I've just returned from a meeting of First Aid officers. Every time I go to one of these things I am reminded how much I hate first aiders.


I came to first aid through a circuitous route. I started by qualifying for a Bronze Medallion with the Royal Life Saving Society. I didn't pursue this due to any great altruistic desire to help my fellow man – I was just avoiding having to play school basketball. If you thought I was bad at cycling you should see me in a sport where a ball is involved!

Anyway, one thing led to another and I worked my way up to the Distinction qualification... the threat of basketball was still lurking in the wings. When I moved to the coast for uni I somehow got caught up in surf life saving. Because you might actually have to save someone in the surf (as compared to yelling at kids to “get off the lane ropes” in the pool) one of the things required is a first aid certificate which I duly acquired... and thus began my exposure to first aiders.

Now my view of the role of a first aider is simple: the job involves attempting to stop the condition of a patient deteriorating until advanced medical assistance arrives. That would be those guys - and girls - who turn up in a white wagon that has disco lights on the roof and a Whitney Houston song playing over the loud speaker. (I could be wrong about the artist - but Whitney sure sounds similar!!) I'm going out on a limb here but I'm guessing an Ambo's training involves more than two days of lectures, demonstrations and tests. Surely they get at least a week!?

I've always been bemused during the practical exams that conclude first aid courses as “patients” with an unlikely list of conditions are trussed up like turkeys by over zealous bandage wielders.

Unless you are stuck in the middle of nowhere and the ambulance is an hour away why apply the sling / splint / bandage / wound dressing / improvised collar / Band Aid? By the time you finish all that the Ambos will be standing around looking bored and wondering why you bothered to call them if you won't let them near the patient until you have exhausted your overstocked first aid kit.

I fear I am very much in the minority with this view. If you listen to my colleagues you would think that a crucial aspect of the role is to diagnose the ills afflicting the patient. Why go to a radiologist who needs expensive imaging equipment to diagnose a broken bone when a competent first aider is able to identify the exact problem by the pitch and volume of the screams you issue as they apply the splint?

And the thing that really bugs me? The war stories. Whenever two or more first aiders are gathered together there is at least one who insists on talking about the time they were faced with a serious case of blistering caused by high heels. “That thing was at least 5mm across!” Or the time they were battled a life threatening paper cut. “I mean there was blood!” Or when they had to ring the ambulance because someone had chest pain. “It turned out the bandage I applied to deal with the pimple on their back was too tight... but it could have been serious!”

Why does this "sharing of experience" bother me so much? While these veterans of the trenches prattle on about their moments of glory they are taking up valuable time I could use to tell you about this one time when I had a patient suffering from...

Tortoise