Have you ever followed a cyclist? Not in a creepy way ...

I had an odd experience the other day. As I cycled down the Bayswater Road, I noticed a fellow cyclist with a distinctive bag, slung around his back. Nothing too strange there. The bag had a kind of snake motif on it. He peeled off on a different route. But then I saw him again the other side of London on Old Street roundabout about half an hour later. He was still just ahead of me.

Then, weirdly, a few days later, I saw the same guy, again on the Bayswater road, and again in East London, just beyond Old Street. The bag identified him for sure.

Here's where my behaviour, arguably, gets strange. I figured: this guy is commuting to the same place, roughly, as me. He's obviously got a different route and it may be a bit quicker than mine as he's normally travelling a bit slower than me. If I ever see him again, I'll follow him.

Sure enough, a few days later, I did just that. He took me on a very different route, and, sure enough, we arrived at Old Street roundabout and he ended up going very close to my house before disappearing on a bit further.

It was a bit of a blur and I can only remember bits of the route, but I do sometimes now employ at least some of his route. It felt a little bit suspect following someone like that, but I don't think he minded or noticed, and I got some good info from it.

I don't necessarily advocate following complete strangers - and I dread to think what would have happened if, say, he'd decided that night to go and see a friend in a completely different part of London - but this was quite positive. Anyone done this kind of following? Or indeed been followed?  Are there better ways of discovering new cycle routes?

Karma rating ****

The nice mafia man

A while back I was cycling through Notting Hill Gate. I was following a very smart looking black car, possibly a Mercedes. We were going down a fairly narrow street and started crossing Portobello Road, where the market is. I thought there was a clear road ahead so was quite close to the car. I was just musing about how much the car looked like a Mafia one, when ... bonk! He stopped suddenly just as we'd crossed Portobello, I braked hard, but just eased into his bumper at the back with a small thud.  "Oh my God", I thought. This is it.  Sure enough, the door opened, and a man, looking not completely unlike Tony Soprano got out. I fully expected him to draw out a large revolver, shout at me and send me to an early biking grave.

However, instead he came round, didn't even look at his bumper, and asked me if I was alright. I was almost too shocked to say anything but managed a feeble "fine thanks ... " whereupon he got back in his car and drove off.

Funny how you build up a very clear picture of something which almost invariably turns out to be completely false. Or perhaps I have too vivid an imagination ...

Any mafia related stories out there? (I'm hoping for the "enjoyable read" kind rather than the "depressing violence" type please).

karma rating: *****

Gear versus "normal" clothes

I had to divide my journey into two this morning - so I travelled half way in my usual get-up of shorts, bright cycling jacket, red socks etc - showered, had meeting, then cycled the rest of the way in my "work" clothes. I took things easy, enjoying the sunshine and generally felt great when I got in. There's always that horrible thing of whether you're going to be too "glowing" if you don't shower and change ... but arguably, as the days get a bit colder and you have to work harder to get up a sweat, there's more reason not to wear the full kit.

But then again, there's the rain. And snow. And everything else.

At this point I dissolve into confusion and get back to work.

Karma rating: **

Can a grown man suddenly sprout two inches ... or is there something wrong with my bike seat?

I've recently been having a little nag in the back of my head which has been telling me that my bike seat's too low. But this can't be as I haven't touched it for years. And as far as I know, I've passed the legal age of growing. But there it is again - a feeling of the old knees sticking up too much, of my weight being too damn ... low.

So, at a pit-stop to buy a new gear cable (mine keep snapping with monotonous regularity), I took the opportunity to raise the seat by a couple of inches and ... what an amazing difference! I felt preposterously high above the cars (purely psychological, of course) and ludicrously distant from the road. I worried about whether my feet would actually reach to the ground when I stopped, but mercifully I was still in contact. But good grief - the extra cycling power! I suddenly felt like I could go like the wind - admittedly not that sensible while negotiating the T-Junction which takes you into Marylebone High Street. It must be said though that it's not all joys - I also felt much more knackered more quickly.

But my suspicion is that by raising your seat a tiny bit, you could make a substantial impact on speed and efficiency.

Karma rating: ****

By the way - just found a good post on bike seat height at Bike Radar - and it confirms the idea that a too-low saddle can have a serious impact on energy efficiency. So there you go.

My derailleur has become a pain in my derriere

Yup - I went over some nasty bumps as I walked the bike along by the house-boats in Little Venice - and when I got back on my trusty steed, there were the tell-tale signs. My chain was "whirring" whenever I pedalled. I couldn't get into my third set of gears. And the clearest sign of all? I was rapidly losing my temper and therefore my karma. To cap it all, when I stopped and then re-started, sometimes my pedal would be "loose" and I'll whack my nether regions into the saddle. Pain.

Anyway - I've tried shoving the wretched thing across, but to no avail. I now need some advice on how to bring it back to a more workable state. Anyone an expert on derailleurs? Otherwise I'd better do some investigations.

Karma rating: poor.

Sometimes you have bad traffic light days, and other times they actively conspire against you ...

Today felt very much like there was a little man sitting in front of 500 screens showing all the traffic lights in London, pressing buttons with a gleeful grin making sure that my journey would be hampered to the full. My worst stretch (and I would strongly recommend never biking down this bit) was going down Praed Street (W2) approaching Paddington Station. It really is a nightmare there with several sets of lights which all take simply ages to turn. On top of that, it's a really dangerous street for buses and lorries turning here and there. Overall, my karma rating for this area is: just say no.