horns of wilmington's cow

By anth

Today we Pedalled on Parliament (Again)

Last year I had a minor role in organising, then marshalling, the first Pedal on Parliament. We had no idea what to expect, felt we'd be happy with 300 people, but in the end took 3,000 from the Meadows to Holyrood to campaign for better active travel provision in Scotland.

This year, for PoP2, I made a video trailer and left it at that. Given stresses of the last wee while it was a good decision, but I was always still going to go along to take 2, necessary because, frankly, none of the vague promises of last year have been met. And this year it was bigger. Probably around 3,500-4,000 cyclists converging on Holyrood. I didn't actually do the ride, but rather hung about at the start snapping away, then darted to the Radical Road for some 'on high' shots of the gathering. It's a pity the weather and light refused to play ball, but a statement was once more made, and the more it is made it must surely be harder to ignore.

Graeme Obree was there, speaking sense; the chap on the stilts recognised me from a video I made of the route for last year; Grant Stott tagged along as well. But in reality this was about the numbers, about Joe Bloggs turning up and making sure the high heid yins got some sort of idea of the feeling out there. I heard Dave Brennan, the man behind all of this madness, over the tannoy as I watched from above explaining that we're not cyclists, we're people, and we're voters. And there were a lot of voters there. And yes, certain ministers did get heckled as the same old empty words were trotted out.

Lovely as well to meet up with some pals and all feel like we were doing something to improve the lot of ourselves, of most other people in the country, of the NHS, of future generations, of motorists (yes, really), of anyone who cares to think about these things logically.

I'd imagine plans for PoP3 are already afoot. I wonder if they need any help again.

Kilted Dave Brennan

Earlier in the morning I'd taken some time enjoying some macro time with a dew-laden spider's web.

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