Life on bikes

The grass is always greener

Here at Kidical Mass Reading we are unequivocally in favour of cycling as a way of transporting children. It’s environmentally friendly, it models and encourages healthy habits, and cycling is simply great fun.

Lots of people think there are physical problems with having children and not owning a car, but products exist to solve all of them that I’ve found. Hills? E-bike. Multiple kids? Cargo bike. Rain? Waterproofs. Distance? Trains. That one journey every two months that is really hard without a car? Car club. (If you have a particular problem that isn’t listed here and you don’t know how to solve, I recommend asking in the Facebook group Family Cycling UK, which is a fount of useful information).

However, and I’m going to be honest here and hope you will think kindly of me, there is one element of car life that I envy. It is the fact that the family car is a portable, private space which is usually in your vicinity. In it you can legally and safely restrain an overtired, overwhelmed and overstimulated small child (yes, I do mean one that’s screaming like a banshee) and get them home, whether they want you to or not. Being a car free family forces us to do more of our parenting in public.

I recently found myself about three hours from home (by a mix of walking/public transport) with two children, including one that was very suddenly FINISHED. Hungry, tired, 50% trying to drop to the pavement, 50% trying to run away, 0% trying to cooperate. He wasn’t being particularly quiet about his distress either (and boy do I love getting those looks from passers by). I had a few hairy moments of wondering what would happen if I couldn’t calm him down enough that we could safely acquire more food, until I remembered that I had a slightly stale sandwich in my bag from the day before. He ate that, and sufficient harmony was restored that I could get us onto a train with more food. All hail the stale sandwich.

On the school run when my youngest is in a particularly contrary mood, he occasionally decides to throw his weight around. He’s big enough now that I don’t feel safe riding when he does this, and I have to pull over and wait until he agrees to stop, or walk the bike home. I’d love to make the consequence of doing this that he has to walk home himself (which I think would be a big enough deterrent if done once to turn that “occasionally” into a “never”), but I can’t safely manage him and push the bike when he’s in that mood so that isn’t an option.

I guess, in theory, I think it’s better for our kid’s emotional growth and resilience that when they hit meltdown we help them to find a way to control it and make a better behaviour choice. In practice, I would sometimes welcome the ability to remove all their choices by strapping them into a car seat.

You might be wondering why I wrote this blog post – I’m partly wondering that too. Overall, I obviously love being a family that bikes. I really, really don’t want to put anyone off. Those meltdowns were easier to handle physically when the kids were small, and they’re rare now the kids are older. I think that’s down to a combination of more adult responses from them, and better planning from us to avoid getting to the point where they are that hungry and tired without a plan for dealing with it (there were reasons, that day, why that wasn’t possible).

I suppose I’m hoping for two things from writing this. Firstly, if you have little ones and you travel in public, and you have had bad days that look like my bad day, I hope you feel a little less alone. Secondly, whether you have little ones or not, if you see parent carrying a screaming toddler like a potato sack (whether that’s towards a bike or a car), please be kind to them. They’re having a really awful day.

P.S. we know travelling in a car with a screaming toddler is also hard. Actually, we know some parts of parenting are just hard, whatever options you choose.


The missing pieces of bike infrastructure

Before spending a lot of time cycling in UK towns for my commutes, I used to spend a lot of time cycling in French towns for my commutes. I wanted to highlight pieces of bike-friendly infrastructure, which are mostly unknown on this side of the Channel. I think they would make a nice addition to the toolbox of town planners.

The tiny traffic light

Traffic light in a French street

In the UK, there is often a secondary signal across the junction, after the stop line, so that if you’re the first in line, it’s easy to see when it’s your turn. In France, this is achieved by having a tiny traffic light on the same pole, called a “répétiteur”.

Of course, this is also convenient for cars, but as a cyclist, it’s quite handy to have the signal right in front of you, instead of looking across the junction, where it can be hidden by a bus or a lorry.
Plus it’s so cute!

The sign to ignore a traffic light

Traffic light with the triangular sign to jump the red light in Paris

Right next to this signal, you sometimes see a strange triangular sign with a yellow bike and an arrow. This means as a cyclist, you can jump the red light!

You don’t have the priority though, so you have to let pedestrians and cars pass first. This sign is quite common in Paris at all the pedestrian crossings: once the road is clear, you can go… and beat the cars!

The contraflow

Contraflow street in Paris

Cities usually have narrow streets, but bikes are narrower. On one-way streets, it’s usually possible to fit a bike going in the other direction. This allows more freedom for cyclists — and also forces cars to slow down, if they don’t want to damage their bumper.

I have a LOT of ideas where this could be super useful in Reading town centre! Luckily, the lovely folks at the Reading Cycle Campaign made a map which already includes most of them. Check it out!

Life on bikes

Hello! Bonjour! Guten Tag!

My four year old has a gift for starting conversations with everyone. No one he does this to seems to mind, but my inner British person cringes a little whenever he bypasses Proper Social Protocols and does something completely unsanctioned like talk to a stranger on a train.

To bring him a little bit more in line with normal behaviour I have taught him an acceptable opening sentence. “Hello-my-name-is-Sebastian-what’s-your-name?” tends to come out in one breath, sometimes so fast that it has to be repeated, but at least the proper introductions have taken place before he starts demanding to know what the person did that morning or similar.

We recently went to France and it transpires that “Bonjour-je-m’appelle-Sebastian-comment-t’appelles-tu” also works perfectly well for making friends, even if that’s all the French you know. Kids in general often surprise me with how effectively they communicate even if there isn’t a shared language. I suppose it shouldn’t be that unexpected – after all, we all start off with all of our communication being non verbal. One year olds can perfectly well make themselves understood through a combination of noises, gestures and facial expressions.

🇧🇪 🇫🇷 🇩🇪 …

From the outset, Kidical Mass Reading has had a good representation from multi-lingual families. Many European countries are rather more advanced than the UK is in terms of cycling infrastructure. When people have grown up knowing the impact of good cycling infrastructure campaigning for the same here seems to be an easy sell. The predominant emotion that I’ve heard from them around this is sadness that they aren’t yet able to offer their children the same freedoms and independence that they enjoyed so much themselves.

Our boys’ first “Kidical Mass friends” were the children of one of the other organising families, two wonderful girls who are very similar ages to our kids. The family is German, and late last year an opportunity came up for them to relocate to Bonn (which is much closer to their extended families) which they (sadly for us) took. Unfortunately (for us) they seem to be very happy there and show no signs of coming back, so when my other half’s work took him that way recently over half term we took the opportunity to go out with him and visit them.

The kids hadn’t seen each other for about six months, and we wondered on the way over how long it would take them to rediscover the friendship they’d had before. The answer was that within twenty seconds of reuniting they were halfway up a tree together. Kidical Mass friends really are the best friends.

We enjoyed hearing all about their Kidical Mass experience in Bonn – a very well attended affair, with hundreds of riders and police marshals closing down junctions for the ride to pass through. We were a bit envious, but at least we could boast about our Father Christmas ride (their rides don’t run through Winter).

The cycling infrastructure in Bonn is much more advanced than it is here – my husband’s observation having been there a few times for work is that you can cycle in the direction you want to go and mostly it just works. Meanwhile, here in Reading, our route planning sometimes involves Google street view. Still, our friends were able to point out plenty of things that could use some improvement – I guess a cycle campaigner’s work is never done. 

If you too would like to help campaign for better cycling infrastructure in Reading (and possibly make some new friends whilst you’re at it) please do join us for our next rides on 20th April.

Life on bikes

It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood

My Dad likes to play the long game. I don’t remember this, but I know (because he tells me at least once a year) that the first thing he said to me after I was born was, “In eighteen years you are going to leave home, and I promise that both you and I are going to be ready for it.”

I’d like to think that I’m a bit better at living in the moment than my Dad is, but I understand the sentiment and why he thought it was important enough to say to a newborn. It is our job as parents to help children grow into competent adults, and that’s not something that happens overnight when they turn eighteen. Freedom needs to be given to them gradually, in baby steps, as they are ready for it.


Our kids had a small milestone recently. They are seven and four, and I asked them if they wanted to go out together without a grown up to post their letters to their friends. The post box is a two minute walk away. We live on a quiet street, with footpaths connecting the houses and a small communal garden. Cars are relegated to a road around the edge, away from the houses, and there is no through traffic. After agreeing some ground rules (hold hands, the older one is in charge of deciding when it’s safe to cross the road, look both ways, don’t run) they decided they were up to the challenge. They came back having safely completed their mission and absolutely delighted with themselves.

The space we live in shapes how we live. We know many of our neighbours because we see them heading out on errands, gardening, or walking their dogs, and the boys stop to ask questions. Where are you going? What are you planting? Can I stroke your dog? The space is pleasant to be in, and peaceful, and encourages conversation. It won’t be long until the boys can go out and play in the communal area without me hovering next to them.

🧒 🚙 🚚 🚗 🚙 🚗 🚐 🚗

One of our Kidical Mass friends lived on a side road off Oxford Road, and her experience of life outside the front door could not have been more different. There are cars parked down both sides of the street, often blocking the pavement. There is nowhere to encourage neighbours to linger and socialise, and nowhere for children to play. The traffic on the main road is fast, and there aren’t traffic free alternatives. (In unrelated news, she’s recently moved).

How many years does an environment like that add to the point when a child can have some freedom and independence? Measures to bring down the speed and volume of traffic in residential areas would make a huge difference to the safety and quality of life of our kids.

On 20th April Kidical Mass Reading and Wokingham will both be running rides. These tie in with two very important action events, an international Kidical Mass one and the UK based Safe Streets Now. We want to raise our voices to make a clear statement. Our kids deserve safe bike infrastructure. They deserve safe streets. Allowing them to experience independence when they are ready for it should be a priority.

If you agree with us, do come and join us for a ride.


Five (Bike) Things I Love About Forbury Gardens

As a campaigning group, we work to draw attention to areas of Reading where improvements to cycling infrastructure are needed. However, I think it’s also important to notice where cycling infrastructure works well. Here, therefore, is my list of things I love about Forbury Gardens.

1. Bike Specific Infrastructure

A proper bike lane

Approaching Forbury Gardens from the South, after crossing Forbury Road, cyclists find themselves for a short stretch in their own specific path. In most of Reading cyclists are either expected to mix with motor vehicles (with a painted line to protect us, if we’re lucky), or to share space with pedestrians (with a painted line to suggest that we take half the path each, if we’re lucky) which substantially reduces the speed at which we can safely travel. Here the bike path runs along side the pedestrian path, but, crucially, at a different height to it. It makes a big difference, and I’m glad the new bike lane on Shinfield Road has been built this way too.

2. Low Motor Traffic Levels

Cars are definitely permitted on the roads around Forbury Gardens – there’s parking and you see the odd one driving around – but for whatever reason (presumably the combination of one way streets/bollards/bus only zones) it isn’t an area that gets used as a rat run and the traffic that comes through tends to move at a sensible speed and observe give way lines. I think I see more buses than cars here, and the low traffic levels mean that it’s one of the few places (outside of Kidical Mass) where cars are allowed that we’ve let our children ride their own bikes.

3. The Amazing Bollard Placement

3 bollards being not equidistant

Presumably contributing to those low traffic levels are the bollards under the Abbey Archway. Every time I come through these they make me happy. The central one isn’t quite central, which means that one of the gaps is bigger. My cargo bike is (slightly) wider than a standard bike, and I can slip through easily without worrying. It’s a great example of how accessibility improvements can help multiple groups of people – wheelchair users, families with pushchairs and unusual bicycles can all benefit. I’m really glad someone put a bit of thought in when installing the bollards here.

4. Accessible Cycle Parking

Speaking of accessibility, I love that there is bike parking right by Forbury Gardens, and that the pavement is profiled such that I can walk round to it without having to push my bike over a kerb. I can do that, if I need to, but with two kids on the back it can get pretty heavy! So I really notice here that the bike parking is easy to navigate.

5. Kidical Mass Memories

All of our early Kidical Mass rides finished at Forbury Gardens, and some of them still do. We’ve ridden to climate festival and children’s festival events there (two causes very well aligned with Kidical Mass goals). I’ve eaten some excellent cake in that garden, and seen kids visit with Santa (and have their bike given a tune up by his elf). When I’m in the gardens it brings back lovely memories of seeing the kids run and play together.

If you too would like to come and make memories with us, please join us for our next ride on 20th April. We’d love to see you.

Life on bikes

Proportionate policing please

Back in November, one of our number messaged in the Kidical Mass WhatsApp group (where all the cool kids hang out) to say that they had been surprised to find a strong police presence outside Caversham library that morning. Five officers had been present. It’s great to see officers out in the community, and he asked them if they were there for a particular reason. They said they had been sent there because of complaints about cyclists riding on the pavement and ignoring red lights.

Now, I will be clear that I do think everyone including cyclists should follow the rules of the road. And, as a pedestrian, I understand the frustrations around having cyclists whizz past you on pavements that aren’t shared paths (though, as a mother, I’m not going to judge another family who decide that their small children are safer riding on the pavement than on the road).

However, do you know what else happened in Caversham in that same spot in December? A crash involving six cars and a van, in which five people were injured. The consequences when people in control of fast, hard, heavy chunks of metal are reckless on the roads are far, far worse than they are for cyclists. Despite the fact that cyclists and pedestrians are often forced to share the same spaces, between 2012 and 2021 98% of pedestrians who were killed or seriously injured in a collision were injured by a motor vehicle rather than a bicycle.

I do think it’s antisocial when riders of illegally overpowered e-bikes (often working for delivery companies) whizz through pedestrian spaces at inhuman speeds. I know that many of these riders are in very precarious situations, and that the delivery companies make it very difficult to make a decent hourly rate. To get paid, riders take more risks in order to take on more jobs.

It’s like that age old ethical conundrum: riding what’s effectively a small motorbike antisocially is wrong, but if you have a choice between that and watching your family starve, which is the greater evil? For me the blame here lies squarely with the delivery companies who are happy to incentivise these behaviours and then hide their head in the sand about the consequences whilst raking in the profits. And, mostly, I think those riders endanger themselves rather than others.

Do you know what else makes pavements and bike paths difficult to navigate? When cars are parked on/in them. This forces pedestrians and cyclists (often young ones) out into traffic they shouldn’t be having to navigate. It can block routes entirely for wheelchair users and make life very difficult for families with pushchairs. Those cars often aren’t just there momentarily when passing through, they can be an almost permanent hazard (e.g. on the shared use path alongside Henley Road).

I’ve tried reporting pavement parking in Reading. The council has a website where you can submit photos but when I’ve tried it for the Henley Road bike lane I’ve got a (very quick) form response letting me know that the council have no power to enforce anything there, and the police have no resources. However, it seems the police have managed to find resources to conduct an operation to seize a few souped-up e-bikes in the town centre.

I know there are some really good people in policing – I love seeing some of them out on their bikes and we were delighted with the pair who joined our ride from the cycle festival in September. They aren’t the ones making the decisions about where their time is spent.

In a world where policing resources are so limited, can we not focus traffic enforcement on vehicles that do the most harm? We have an election coming up for the local Police and Crime Commissioner, who has the power to set the priorities for road safety enforcement. If you’d like to see a change, make sure you let the candidates know that what’s important to you and use your vote on 2nd May.


Blake’s firsts

When you have a child, you have all these dreams and expectations for them, even if you don’t realise that. The moment they’ll take their first step, their first word, their first bath, their first breath.

In my case there was definitely this idea of that first bike ride, that first mountain we’d climb together. I’d grown up cycling, being dragged up mountains and orienteering, so it seemed perfectly reasonable my son would have those ‘delights’ too. (Admittedly at age 7 falling into a patch of briars while orienteering didn’t feel that delightful.)

So, having a baby at 28 weeks and 3 days wasn’t something I expected. Nor was Blake having a significant brain bleed and being told by the consultant he’d have disabilities.

Blakey had lots of firsts I never expected – the first time he breathed without a machine, the first time I could hold him, the first time he could drink milk rather than via feeding tube. But one thing I was adamant about was that no matter what the scale of his disabilities were, he would have his first rides, his first mountains.

After months in hospital, we moved up to Scotland and in with my parents. I can’t recommend living with retirees while on mat leave enough, especially when those grandparents cycle.

‘Umpah’ and I lashed a car seat into a double trailer, negotiated with Nana that we’d wait until it stopped snowing to use it, and conducted numerous field trials with a brave toy soldier to check safety.  

The month Blakey and I started cycling, we had a permanent marshal cycling behind the trailer to make sure we were safe (Umpah). And just like that, Blakey was cycling.

We joined a Mums on Bikes social ride, more for me to meet other parents than to get confidence cycling, and a whole new world opened up to us. I couldn’t weave through traffic like I used to. I often couldn’t fit down narrow bike lanes that would get me to assisted stop boxes. We got as much aggression from drivers, if not more, when we cycled. I was in contact with other women who cycled, I was part of a community of people who also used their bike to get around.

That first year we cycled hundreds of miles together, and I realised that the rage, the risk, the violence I’d normalised over the years wasn’t good enough for my child.  Blake had more firsts I’d never dreamed of — the angry men who drove after both of us beeping and swearing, the first close pass, and sadly the 2nd, 3rd etc, the first time he heard Mummy called a bitch and a cunt because she dared to take her bike on a road with him.

I met other women who thought the same and Kidical Mass Inverness became a thing. We raised the profile of cycling for all cyclists, spoke to councillors and inspired groups across the UK to set their own rides up. Blake went from a trailer to a seat on my bike, and Umpah was still there, fewer people swore at us. We were making a difference.

Then suddenly he was 15 months, or 1 depending on how you count it, and it was time to return to paid work. I’m a Product Manager when I’m not being a Mum or cyclist activist. We came back down south, his Dad became part of our lives and we instigated Kidical Mass Reading. We’d had all of those 1sts I’d been told would probably not happen (including trips up mountains on my back 🙂 )

And it wasn’t safe for us again, we got harassed on Oxford Road, close passes, verbal abuse and the council had no idea why it mattered that cycle routes were inclusive. I was scared again, I was scared that my desire for a future for my child with clean air, streets he could play on, a habitable future would cause us another stay in hospital.

I met the Smart’s and we set up Kidical Mass Reading, next came Samuel, Blake’s Dad got into cycling, Jeroen joined, Dr Bike became an important person in my life — and once again my cycling campaigning started making a difference. But more than that, it gave us a community.

He’s now 3, he did his first bike ride on his own at Reading University in Jan, and his 2nd in Reading town centre in Feb, and to say I am a proud Mama would be an understatement: I’ve made everyone at work, social media and friends watch that video of Blake balance biking his way around a 4km safe route. I’m so proud of my tiny balance biker who finished the ride beaming and so proud of himself.

It wasn’t just me cheering him on, it was the whole group, it was every marshal keeping him safe. It was the other preschoolers he very proudly announced he was cycling to. I’m not sure I imagined one of his firsts being a group ride, but I’m so pleased I could make that happen for him. I’ve promised him I’ll make the roads safe for him — a big promise, I know. But I really hope that in a few years’ time, other kids won’t have firsts of adults swearing at them just because they’re on a bike.

Why am I writing this? I guess because these firsts were firsts that I never imagined when I found out I was pregnant, and then never dreamed would be possible after his start. Because I’m a proud Mum, who is in awe of her balance biker, who is demanding he gets a pedal bike like the other kids. Because cycle campaigning gave me a community I never dreamed of, in 2 countries, which I’m so glad to have in my life. And because we need to make sure that we give our kids better.

Life on bikes

The Prisoner’s Dilemma

Maths was my favourite subject as a kid (and I still love it now). One of the interesting problems I remember learning about is the Prisoner’s Dilemma. The premise is this: you and a pal are suspected of wrongdoing. You are taken into separate rooms and questioned. If both of you say you didn’t do it, you both serve a short sentence. If both of you say you did do it, you both serve a medium length sentence. But if one of you admits to the crime and the other does not, the one who talked goes free and the one who didn’t fess up gets locked away for a really long time. What should you do?

The mathematically correct answer to the dilemma is this: if each prisoner acts solely in their own interest, they will always turn each other in, even though they would be better off if they both kept quiet.

Sometimes I think that the choices people make around transport modes are a kind of prisoner’s dilemma. Except the losing option if we all act solely in our own interests is “large parts of the planet become uninhabitable”.

“There’s so much traffic on the road that I wouldn’t feel safe riding a bike.”

If everyone who could ride a bike to get where they were going chose to do so, the roads would feel a lot safer for all of us.

“I drive a big car because I feel safer around the rest of the traffic.”

When I walk my children through car parks I have to remind them to stay extra close to me around SUVs, because the drivers are so high up they might not be able to see them.

“There’s no space for dedicated bike infrastructure on our roads because they are too narrow.”

I agree, our roads are narrow in places. If I were queen for a day I would bring in legislation around bringing down vehicle width. When I’m on my bike, I really feel the difference between being overtaken by someone in an SUV or someone in a smaller lighter car.

SUV Share of registrations: 2021: 50%, 2022: 57%, 2023: 60%

I gave you the mathematically correct answer to the prisoner’s dilemma above. However, I’ve always felt that the actually correct answer is to associate with the kind of people who won’t turn you in. I also reckon the morally correct answer (leaving aside the issue of the crime committed at the opening of the problem) is to be the kind of person who is willing to do what’s right for your friends.

We are in a climate crisis. I know you all know this. I do think we see more and more bikes on Reading’s roads as the years go by. I’m grateful to all those people who make the sometimes difficult choice (I know we don’t have the best infrastructure yet) to travel this way. The more people make that choice, the easier it will be for others to do the same.

So, Dear Reader, if you want a new year’s resolution but haven’t yet settled on one, how about this?
When you travel, look at the options reasonably available to you and consider as a factor the impact that your choices make on other road users.
When your car reaches the end of its life maybe a car with a smaller footprint would be sufficient to transport your family.
Perhaps public transport is viable for your commute.
Maybe some of your journeys could be moved to active travel.

And if, after all of that, you sometimes find yourself on a bike in Reading, do pop by to join one of our rides.


February 2024 Wokingham ride

We had a rather low turnout of ~20 for our ride in Wokingham today — maybe because of the yellow warning of rain, issued just before. 🌧️⚠️
In the end, we didn’t have any rain, and this just meant we had more cake at the end. We have photos to prove it! 🍰🍰


New Routes and Old Problems

Last year we found that (apart from Christmas) our Winter rides were generally low on numbers. I believe we discussed this and decided that, as much as people love free, fun, family friendly bike rides, they love them slightly less when the weather is freezing.

We clearly forgot that we’d learned this when we scheduled the rides for this year, as between us and Wokingham we’ve had monthly rides between November and January, finishing with a double ride month in February. However, numbers have not been bad at all – last week we started off with 33 (including several new faces), and finished with 38 (thanks to excellent recruitment efforts from the marshals to passing cyclists).

Perhaps this is in part because of how mild February has been to date – the temperatures are in the double digits, daffodils are growing and I am trying not to think about whether or not this is something I should be worrying about from a climate change perspective.

On a positive note, we had a last minute route change – which we’ve had before due to path closures and roadworks (our planner always checks the route in the day or two before the ride). However, this time it was for a very good reason – the route on the North side of the Kennet is finally open. It has been closed for a very long time whilst the area was under construction, to the great frustration of our official route planner Simon Smart (which I have heard about at length, Dear Reader, because he is my husband and we have the best pillow talk, if your definition of “best pillow talk” is chat about cycle lanes).

This is a much easier connection into the centre of town with children than we have previously had from Thames Lido – it avoids several points that require our marshals to be on alert, including cycling alongside Kings Road for a short way after passing the Narrowboat (previously known as the Bel and Dragon), merging out onto Duke Street and cycling past Reading Central Library. It’s now a route to Forbury Gardens that we would consider doing as a family with the kids on their own bikes, whereas before there is no way we would have attempted it outside of a Kidical Mass ride.

The only fly in the ointment is a boom barrier between Chestnut walk and the Abbey archway, where you have to push your bike up onto the pavement without a drop curb and walk around (unless you are four, in which case you can limbo on under the bar – a very rare case of a route being more accessible to kids than adults!). Kidical Mass will be using our voice at the cycle forum to ask the council to look at improving the connectivity here, as it is otherwise a lovely and much needed low traffic route into town from East Reading.

Coming through town we had the usual run ins with rail replacement buses parked on the “no stopping” section of the route past the station (there seem to be some almost permanently stationed there at the moment, which is something of a problem), and the occasional impatient driver who really didn’t see why they shouldn’t drive straight through a group of very young cyclists – all ably managed by our marshals, of course. I would be remiss, of course, if I didn’t mention that most drivers we encountered were friendly and polite.

At the end of the ride the kids had a great time riding around with their new friends – and many of our new faces let us know that they hope to see us for the next ride as they were heading off. We look forward to seeing them (and perhaps you, Dear Reader?) in Wokingham next week on 17th Feb, or in Reading or Wokingham for the Safe Streets Now action ride on 20th April.