The second weekend in February was marked by the fact that Carla got her new bike. Just like my bro’ Carla had gone ‘full sus’ with an FSR. The setting up phase took a little longer, but the transformation phase was much faster.

Setting up a new bike is something that Carla does not enjoy, and it’s always the saddle position that gives the most trouble, the ‘chuff’ being the crux. Anyway, we finally got it to ‘acceptable’, and set out on our first ride. It took exactly one hour for the transformation! Within one hour she was riding things with a relaxed ease and confidence that would have you thinking that she’d never rode any other way. I had flattered myself thinking that I would have to teach her how to ride it, but found myself thinking that maybe she could give me a few tips.

Normally on our rides it is left to me to go on the front down descents, but not this day, and on more than one occasion I found myself having to go a little quicker than I wanted to just to keep up. Needless to say she loves her new bike, and I’m really looking forward to getting out on some good rides with her this spring.

The first weekend in February was marked by the fact that my brother Andrew (Supawal), got his new Specialized FSR. I collected it from the shop for him on Friday, and he was banging on my front door, having hot footed it from London, next morning at 8 o’clock.

Like a child with a new toy, he was very excited, and wanted to get on with setting it up straight away. Two hours later we set off on his ‘first ride’.

Saturday was a familiarisation ride. We visited Habberley Valley, for some singletrack shenanigans, before making our way to Kinver, via some tough climbs, and white knuckle descents. Supawal began a transformation as he became more at home on his new steed, trying new things that he would have never considered on his old hardtail bike.

Come Sunday, I decided it was time to turn up the wick, and rode out on my S-works race bike, this would give Supawal a run for his money. But no, the transformation continued, no longer could I keep up with him on the descents, he made it look so easy and casual as he dropped like a stone leaving me fighting rock’n’root all the way. Even on the flat, he was so smooth, his body language giving no indication of the terrain ahead. I, on the other hand, was hitting things left right and center, I found my self having to drop back.

By the end of the weekend the transformation was complete. Supawal is now a committed ‘full-suss’ rider with a penchant for riding more extreme trails than would be healthy for the average rider!

Some pictures from the weekend can be found here.

Out riding today you could forgiven for thinking that spring had arrived. I saw lambs, snowdrops, catkins, and some daffs. I know spring is really a long way off, but just for today it was nice to pretend. The only thing that was missing from my three hour tour of the lanes was my training partner Carla, who is still chained to the tiolet by her arse. Get well soon lover.

Carla, my lover, friend, life-partner, significant other, training partner, co-driver, manager, consultant, massuese, celebrates her birthday today. Now what do you get a beautiful woman in the prime of her life for her birthday? Well, ‘plan A’ fell through because the thing I ordered, which has to come halfway around the world, won’t be here until next week. Why didn’t I order it earlier? Because that was not possible, it didn’t exist before I ordered it, there was no way to order it earlier than I did. I suppose I could save it for a Valentines Day gift.

Anyway, ‘plan B’ ain’t so bad. I’ll go to the lingerie shop and buy her some nice underwear. Add a bottle of champers, a bar of chocolate, and some effort to let her know how much I love her, what more could a girl want?

Friday is fast approaching, and I have a four day weekend too look forward to (fri/sat/sun/mon). That means a fest of biking, boozing, and more biking. I’ve got it all planned out, 3hrs around the lanes and Kinver Tommorrow, 3hrs off-road at Ludlow on Saturday, 3hrs somewhere good on Sunday, then a couple of hours over Kinver on Monday.

That’s the plan, but I also have a physio session on Monday with the lovely Miss Hesketh for my ‘still recovering’ shoulder, which could leave me a little sore. Then I have an appointment with my consultant Mr Cool, for the same injury, that might leave me sore, and depressed. Still, that’s Monday and I’ll have had the best part of my long weekend by then.

Thursday lunchtime now, and I’m wishing my life away like a little kid. Roll on tonight, let the partying begin!

Last weekend I went along to watch some of my friends and rivals competing in a League of Veteran Racing Cyclists road race. The LVRC caters for racers who are over 40 yrs old. In fact you cannot hold an LVRC licence, or take part in their races until you have had your 40th birthday! Now don’t get the wrong idea, a load of old codgers, making a spectacle of themselves in ridicolous lycra, this aint. Far from it, with ‘ex pros’, former international, and national champions riding it is intensely competitive. With the luxury of semi-retirement or even retirement some of these riders train harder now than when they were ‘pros’. Furthermore, although some of them can’t remember where they parked the car, they can remember exactly who crossed the finish line in front of who, and by how much.

Anyway, while I was taking a few pictures of the action, and shouting words of encourgement to the riders I began to notice that there was a superabundance of attractive women in the vicinity of the race finish area, and the race headquarters. Now I’ve been to veteran races before, and on sunny days before, but never noticed this phenomenon before. I started thinking that it maybe a function of me not racing. This being the case I might have to consider ‘not racing’ again ‘cos it surely beats looking at the lycra clad arses of the lads in the bunch!

see ya out there soon,

It was my 48th birthday last weekend, and it was made very special by two young ladies. Firstly I had a visit from Eleanor , who I haven’t seen for ages, and is nearly one year old now. We went for a birthday picnic, and she entertained me with her antics. She’s a little showstopper. Secondly I was given a picture by the little known, yet incredibly talented young artist, Grace Allan. How is it that some impressionist artists can say so much with so little?

The West Midland Cyclo-cross league starts this weekend. This will be the first time in about 10 years that I won’t be riding, and I am gonna miss it, it’s the filthiest, friendliest, fastest, fun you can have through the winter. I wish all the riders good luck, and I’ll be along at some of the events to give support.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out where the strong man stumbled or where the doer of deed could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred with dust and sweat and blood. At best, he knows the triumph of high achievement; if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.” Theodore Roosevelt

see ya out there soon,