Edinburgh cycle-hire horrors: Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse make me think it's time to chain up the bike racks – Susan Morrison

Sometimes good people have good ideas that they put into action with bad outcomes.

Death and the other Horsemen of the Apocalypse now appear to be riding on two wheels, according to Susan Morrison (Picture: Adrian Dennis/AFP via Getty Images)

Take Prohibition. Sounds like a great idea. America is drunk, let's get America sober. And so, in 1920 they shut the booze industry down. Think Tier 3 with not even the option of a half-pint with a scotch egg.

On paper, it probably looked good. But it backfired, and spectacularly. Colossal numbers of ordinary Americans technically became criminals when they bought bathtub hooch. They even risked blindness, on account of it being dodgy and untested by any health standards officials.

Crime became truly organised and set up supply chains so efficient even today’s supermarkets would think of hiring the boys. At one point, two Chicago gangs attempted to construct a tunnel to run beer from Canada, but being unused to digging holes unless it was to hide a body or two, they gave up and went back to thug violence and rattling Tommy guns on St Valentines Day.

So, you see, a good idea can have a bad outcome. Which brings me to the menace that is Just Eat bikes.

Hoodie-wearing horrors

Now, I am perfectly prepared to concede that the nice people who thought this plan up totally believed that the users of these bicycles would be the sort of smiley young folk you see on the front page of their website. Fit, attractive, jolly couples who decide on the spur of the moment to have a bit of a giggle riding the city streets, which according to their little promotional film, are mysteriously devoid of traffic.

Susan Morrison suggests some people hiring Just Eat Cycles may not be overly familiar with safe cycling techniques (Picture: Greg Macvean)

You see, I think this movie needs a little more detail. Perhaps a short, poignant section featuring abandoned Just Eat bikes littering the pavements of Leith like fallen horses of the Light Brigade after the infamous charge, ready to trip the unwary, or force pedestrians to veer into the path of an oncoming Number 22 bus.

I’d ask my director to be even more diverse in his choice of idealised bike riders. Where, for example, are the hoodie-wearing horrors who keep the roads clear by riding on the pavement, trailing stinking clouds generated by whatever it is they are smoking? A quartet scythed through the Kirkgate a week or so back, hoods up and over their eyes. Looked like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse as dressed by JD Sports.

Hellbent on becoming an organ donor

Clearly, we need a subplot in there of the plucky bike rider who hasn’t actually been on a bike and decides that now is a good time to hurtle along the city walkways or Portobello prom, scattering walkers, toddlers and wheelchair users before them like Boudicca going through the Roman legions.

Flushed with success, we’ll film them embarking on a ride around the New Town, an adrenaline-fuelled, heart-pumping thrill for the bus and car drivers who suddenly find themselves face-to-face with a laughing, carefree twenty-something who seems hellbent on becoming an organ donor. I’m sure the director could have a bit of fun filming the screaming drivers in their wake.

As I said, I bet on paper, bikes for the masses was a super idea. But, like Prohibition, in some parts of this city, it's a dream that's turned a tad sour. Perhaps it's time to chain up the cycle racks for good?

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