The Invisible Cyclist

Sir, - I would like to inform you of a remarkable phenomenon: I have become invisible.

Sir, - I would like to inform you of a remarkable phenomenon: I have become invisible.

I have done everything to draw attention to myself in built-up areas. I wear garish reflective gear and I look like a mobile lighthouse, but to no avail. Every time I put my bicycle onto Dublin streets I pray my apparent transparency will not prove fatal.

I have no shortage of tales of derring-do. I conduct daily duels with buses, motorbikes, scooters, taxis, trucks and cars. Pedestrians stare blankly as I approach before proceeding to cross my path. At rush-hours I face maniacs who accelerate alarmingly between lights. When I'm feeling particularly vainglorious, I signal a right turn and defy the roar of engines from vehicles that seconds beforehand were several hundred yards behind me. I admit, though, I have never managed to complete the last manoeuvre without breaking out in a cold sweat.

My morning route through the Phoenix Park (Garda HQ and apparent 30 m.p.h. speed limit notwithstanding) is practically a no-go zone at night because of low-flying cars. I face any number of illegally parked vehicles all over the city centre and some dreadful surfaces in the few cycle lanes that do exist. Where they don't, an Orangeman would be given more space on the Garvaghy Road than many motorists give to cyclists.

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Cycling is becoming an ever more dangerous mode of transport. How many deaths will it take before measures are enforced to make it safer? Perhaps I should hang up my pedals and join the single-passenger, motorised wagon trail. Visibility seems to come only with four doors or 18 wheels. - Yours, etc.,

Douglas Dalby, Kempton Green, Dublin 7.