Choppers

Very cool until you look at them closely and notice the 'improvements' over the originals. In their upgrading they've lost a little charm and a little soul. Cool to look at but I wouldn't own one.

Spring

Well, it would appear that Spring is just about sprung but less like an exquisite Jack-in-the-box and more like a rusty old mattress in a flop house. Nevertheless, My thoughts once again turn to the open road and the roar of an engine. I'm not sure where the road will lead this year but I am sure it will be the road less travelled.

Here are a few pictures of what this spring has meant to me; lots of riding of the unpowered kind including a few visits to the roof of the world. But I must stress that I have been very careful to balance my exercise program... with beer.

A Cross of Iron

Genesis Croix De Fer, my new toy. A bit of road, a bit of trail, a whole load of fun.

Gash Mechanics Tutorial #1

There are some times where smashing something with a hammer using a knife as a drift is the only way to get the job done.
Bearing destroyed and inner race seized onto the axle in a steel against alloy kind of way. There was the tiniest edge visible and I'd tried all of my flatheads to get at it but to no avail. I'd looked at the knife a coupe of times but dismissed it for being the stupidest solution. Eventually, all other avenues exhausted, the knife was fucked but the job done. Don't try this at home kids.

Burger

I headed out towards the blue hole in the grey sky pushing some tall gears on my road bike. My beloved mountain bike has been sent away after the back brake finally and completely failed once I'd crested the top of a mountain last Tuesday. It's gutting when you have to walk the long way down after the hard slog up- zero reward apart from the wholesome feeling of health for having completed the climb. Today there was absolutely nothing in the diary until band practice later so I thought I'd seize the moment and get out to feel what I could of the paltry heat of the low autumnal sun. The roads were greasy and covered in mud from farm vehicles and fallen leaves, the sort of shit that gets up in every part of the underside of a motorbike so i was happy enough to be on a bicycle. I had the Black Keys plugged straight into my head and a direction purely dictated by where the clear sky was. I passed an angry old man driving too slowly in a big car and wondered what he what he got out of being so angry. I got home and squashed a handful of minced beef into a hot pan, melted some cheese on it and stuck it between two slices of home made bread.

Dirt

I ate it big style, I mean like starter, main course and pudding. Man was never meant to fall down mountains while holding a bicycle. I tried to make it look like I was in control, at one point I thought i might even pull it off, but the realisation dawned pretty quick that I was not riding out of my boots- I was now totally out of my league. The details are sketchy about exactly where and when I lost it completely but everyone agreed I made an impressive dismount. I've developed a new measurement system to measure your actual impact on the environment; and I mean physical impact on the soil and flora of the earth generally while using a bicycle. It's called carbon face-plant and mine just grew substantially. If you look carefully you may see where the bike helmet saved my noggin.

Sunrise

6.30 this morning and I'm being gently prodded back to life after half a bottle of whiskey finally dispatched me to bed at 2am this same morning. I'm not a morning person at the best of times so this morning was never going to be easy. Nonetheless I got up-and-at-em with little fuss. I fought to put on the muddy, wet gear from the fast, loose and muddy ride to the remote hostel and put on what dry gear I brought with me while trying to defend myself against daggers from people who don't think they snore- I myself heard snoring in the bunk room before I found what little sleep I was going to get so I can't be totally to blame. The cold, dark morning was quite a contrast to last nights rain followed by mist followed by dense cloud followed by lashing rain and the onward ride, for once, was mostly downhill- a payoff for last nights hellish climb. Lights lit and we push off into what was shortly to become a fine sunrise; the four of us all had to be at work despite the previous nights partying. My bike cut through the trail like a dagger with only the distant clicking of the freewheel and scuffing of the singletrack coming through the din of the wind rushing past my ears. Thankfully I found the culprit of the maddening front brake squeek that was torturing me over the weekend; brand new brake pads dragging their leading edge against the front disk. I chamfered the edges like you have to do on old Harley drum brakes, problem solved and sanity saved. Slabs of jagged rock and freshly swollen rivers punctuate the flowing trail as the rhythm gets faster til i'm going as fast as I dare down the last death-or-glory descent. Once again I didn't die and once again the glory is purely personal. People just don't get it unless they themselves do it so there's little point in trying to regale them with the stories. I'm content; the meal we went there for was nothing short of a miracle, the company was excellent and I got five minutes of peace this morning for the zen hosing down of the bike. One day I'll try to explain why I ride a single-speed in the mountains but I'll have to figure that out for myself first.