Daily commuter 'trains' running along the busy A270 aim to reclaim road space for cyclists in a positive and sociable way

I'm pedalling down the driver's lane of the dual carriageway with Jermaine Stewart blaring in my ear at 8.30am. But this isn't one of my anxiety dreams about losing control and being late for work. It's the very real – and far more enjoyable – experience I'm having with Bike Train, an innovative, volunteer-run project which operates group rides between central Brighton and Sussex University, along the notoriously busy A270.

"The idea came from the critical mass events I'd attended with my eight-year-old daughter," founder Duncan Blinkhorn tells me as we breeze past a bus stop of bemused onlookers. "I realised what a safe space you can create on the roads when you are many."

So, with a handful of other volunteers, he launched the scheme in April 2010 to offer daily "trains" at peak times, with participants cycling two abreast, taking up one vehicle lane – "we don't intend to hold up other road-users, but we do intend to be an assertive presence" – in a sociable, safety-in-numbers formation.

Every ride – they've hosted over 400 so far – is accompanied by at least two trained marshalls, a big, bold sign, and some irresistibly funky tunes blasting out from a bike-mounted sound system. "Passenger" numbers range from four to 20, with an average of eight.

There is a cycle path along most of the 3.5-mile route, but it breaks up at several points – including the hair-raising Vogue gyratory, where riders must negotiate three fast-filtering traffic lanes – and at others becomes dangerously exposed, such as the Coldean turn-off where teacher Jo Walters was fatally struck by a van last July.

"The current provision is a disgrace," shouts Blinkhorn over the traffic. "It's no wonder people feel too nervous to ride on this road, despite its convenience for two universities, several schools and businesses, and the forthcoming Falmer Stadium."

"Our aim is to reclaim road space for cyclists, in a positive and perfectly legal way," he continues later. "We use a fun, 'just do it' approach to draw attention to serious issues about the need for wider bike lanes and raising safety measures above the bare minimum."

"There are typically 50,000 journeys made on this route each day, of which just 2% – around 1,000 – are by bicycle. We'd like to see that increasing to 10% – around 5,000."

Other ambitions include holding more rides to special events – there was a 100-strong convoy for Lewes bonfire night last November, while 50 cycled to the Springwatch festival at Stanmer park last weekend – and expanding to school runs. "The council has expressed a cautious interest in this, and we reckon motorists would be more respectful towards children," says Blinkhorn.

He's referring, no doubt, to the moment when a frustrated bus driver toots at us to get a move on. Panting at the back on my knackered Barracuda, I'm afraid it's yours truly who is holding us up.

Nevertheless, I'm in high spirits when we reach our destination, quite blown away by this devoted bunch of locals who head out in all weathers, every weekday, to encourage car-free commuting. They're helping cyclists of all ages and abilities – from foreign visitors unused to riding on the left, to accident victims who've lost their confidence – to feel safe, supported and empowered.

Theirs is the only daily scheme of its kind, yet at the opposite end of the country, a similar initiative is in action. Staveley Biketrain operates monthly rides in rural Cumbria, where cyclists encounter rather different challenges – not so much busy highways as unlit country lanes, and, let's face it, a higher likelihood of heavy rain.

"We don't have music, but we do bring powerful lights and puncture repair kits," says Alistair Kirkbride, who co-runs the five-mile trips between Staveley and Kendal, and Staveley and Windermere. Journeys in both directions depart at 8am and 5.15pm, attracting a small but enthusiastic gang of pedallers.

"We're determined to show people that cycling is a viable way of getting to work," enthuses Kirkbride. "One woman even gave her car up after trying the commute with us."

It's just one example of how these two projects, though small and run on shoestring budgets, are having powerful consequences, both for individuals and the cycling community as a whole. They're practical, sociable, visible and audible, and prove that biking to work can be an exhilarating joy, instead of an early-morning nightmare.

Could you start a bike train in your area?