Blimey! stratobiker.com is 10 years old this weekend! Where did that go?

10 years ago I started this blog while recovering from a bike crash. Little did I know at the time the significant part that would come to play.

I’m gonna chew it over on a bike ride and get back to you later….

Yeah, so 10 years ago I was a hardworking IT contractor. I earned great money, but I hated it. In my spare time I raced my bike and played guitar.

When I crashed my bike it really shook me. I remember the surgeon telling me my shoulder would never be the same again…and he was right! 10 years down the line I can hardly raise my arm high enough to scratch my head. I cannot throw a stone, and I had to give up my dream of becoming a trapeze artist. It still hurts too. Not all the time, and my brain has learned to switch off to it, but from time to time. It get’s very sore after a couple of hours on the bike, but I manage it, usually by putting my hand on my leg and cycling my arm up and down. I’m not complaining, I can still ride my bike, and I can still play my guitar.

Yeah, so 10 years down the line, I live in France, where I’m semi retired. I still ride my bike a lot. I don’t function if I don’t get my exercise fix, and France is such a beautiful country to cycle in. I still play my guitar. I’m in “The Sugaree Band“, playing Rock, Blues, Funk, and anything else that takes our fancy. I started a Jazz club! It’s been going from strength to strength. In fact so many good things have come out of it it deserves a post of it’s own.

When that surgeon told me my shoulder would never be the same again I was gutted, and I didn’t realise the extent of the effect it would have on me. If he’d told me I would move to France and start a jazz club….well…who knows what’s around the next corner eh?

Here’s to the next 10 years. I wish you all well.

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Yep, it was my first real break, I was fourteen at the time, crashed my bike! Some things don’t change eh? Anyway, actually, it was a motorbike, a scrambler, a 250 Cotton works frame with leading-link forks around a 250cc Villiers engine. I used to thrash about on it over Puxton which was an old gravel pit.

We used to time each other around a circuit. On this particular day I was going like a nutter, got slightly more airborne than I should have, and stacked it. Broke my right wrist, easy diagnosis as I could see it was broke. After a few weeks in plaster the doctors decided it wasn’t healing so they were gonna plate it. I spent the next few weeks with my arm in plaster up past my elbow. Now, here’s the funny, strange but true bit…… because I couldn’t bend my elbow I couldn’t wipe my bum! Couldn’t reach see, so had to teach myself to wipe left handed. To this day, as a right-handed person I still wipe left-handed! 🙂 Can you imagine what a stroke of luck that was when years later I broke my right shoulder?

Talking of years later, Puxton got built on, the playground of my youth gone forever.

Had a new x-ray taken down at St Junien hospital yesterday, followed by a consultation with the doctor. It’s healing well, but it’ll need a lot more time. Have a look at the x-ray yourself, see if you can see the progress.

I’m wearing a strap that holds my shoulders back tight. I asked if i could have a spare one so that one could get washed while i wear the other (like on the turbo or something!). He took a look at the one I already have, decided it wasn’t tight enough, so gave me a new one and strapped my shoulders back tighter than ever! Next visit – two weeks hence.

BTW – I ain’t feeling sorry for myself over this. No one forces me to ride a bike, I do it ‘cos I want to. I consider myself fortunate to have the opportunity. I’m happy with my lot. 🙂

In the old days, pre-shoulder, I could descend with the best. I would just throw the bike downhill and ride the knife edge that is control. The faster you go the sharper the blade. It’s amazing that the brain can control two brakes with fingertip accuracy while positioning the body for perfect balance, while reading and predicting what’s coming next racing down a hillside over rock, roots, grass, and dirt. Not to mention sorting out where other riders are so as not to hit them. You really are just there in the moment, there is nothing else, and nothing else quite like it.Things are a little different now, try as I might, pain and stiffness stop me from approaching adequate. It is a very humbling experience to be among the slowest going downhill. Riders coming from behind calling me to move over because I am holding them up. Then when I cruise past them on the uphill they try hard to hold me off so that I won’t hold them up on the next downhill.

I rode the Merida 100 at Builth Well last weekend, and part way down one descent I moved over to allow a couple of faster riders through. They flew past me and were gone in seconds. I cursed as I battled with the terrain, so frustrated, then as I came around the corner, there they were, stacked on top of each other in a big rut, but unhurt and laughing! Lucky lads.

I took over 5hrs to complete the course, and was the third vet home just 4 minutes down. If only I hadn’t made the daft mistake of riding my hardtail. Ah well, I’ll know next time.