The Invisible Visible Man

When a one-time dabbler in moral philosophy rides his bike a lot...

Sunday, 26 April 2015

A midtown mechanical, a Hudson River puncture - and how my bike gives me a superpower

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As I wheeled my bike along 58 th Street in midtown Manhattan in a heavy rain shower last Wednesday, I noticed a periodic scraping sound...
5 comments:
Sunday, 12 April 2015

A signpost note, anarchy in Fort Greene - and the misery of the idle motor car

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It’s not often that I’m seized with the desire to deface a sign in a public space. But, on a walk with the Invisible Visible Woman on East...
11 comments:
Sunday, 29 March 2015

An unexpected rhythm, a stressful ride to Midtown - and why I feel I'm waltzing with the city

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When I’m riding my bike home in the evenings and have come down the long, spiral ramp off the Manhattan Bridge into Brooklyn , I often f...
4 comments:
Friday, 20 March 2015

Barging in TriBeCa, a Top Gear boor - and why I'm proud to be a Roundhead worrywart

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It was one morning at the end of January in TriBeCa that I encountered the very personification of motorist arrogance. As I rode down a si...
15 comments:
Tuesday, 17 February 2015

A Williamsburg tragedy, a century-old disaster - and why crashes don't reflect the law of averages

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When I was a regular traveller on the West Coast Main Line, the UK ’s busiest long-distance rail route, I would keep a careful lookout for...
16 comments:
Thursday, 5 February 2015

A barging garbage truck, a slippery Greenway - and why New York's bike routes are like a 747

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It was far from being the most dignified manoeuvre I’ve ever made on a bicycle. Around 9.25am on January 29, as I rode to work down Prince...
20 comments:
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About Me

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Invisible Man
I'm a hefty, 6ft 5in Scot. I moved back to London in 2016 after four years of living and cycling in New York City. Despite my size, I have a nearly infallible method of making myself invisible. I put on an eye-catching helmet, pull on a high visibility jacket, reflective wristbands and trouser straps, get on a light blue touring bicycle and head off down the road. I'm suddenly so hard to see that two drivers have knocked me off because, they said, they didn't see me. This blog is an effort to explain to some of the impatient motorists stuck behind me, puzzled friends and colleagues and - perhaps most of all myself - why being a cyclist has become almost as important a part of my identity as far more important things - my role as a husband, father, Christian and journalist. It seeks to do so by applying the principles of moral philosophy - which I studied for a year at university - and other intellectual disciplines to how I behave on my bike and how everyone uses roads.
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