In front of the bench

It's almost here, upon me, the wait is over. In thirty six hours time I'll wager good money that I will already, that very morning, have been through some elation, a host of agony and an eternity of self doubt. In forty hours time I will be relieved, hopefully delighted with my efforts, but relieved that the suffering is over for another year.

And what is this seeming monster looming? K2.

Same as always - Have I done enough quality training? Have I done the miles? Have I done the effort?

It's a great event, I have ridden it every year bar one. I have been reduced to a goggle-eyed dribble several times, have had some real joy and have enjoyed the challenge every time.

The very first year it was run, it was an unknown quantity. Three of us made the effort on the encouragement from The Reader from Mt Rascel, and joined another couple of hundred souls on the start line at Coromandel. The night before on the peninsula had delivered an epic thunder storm, it certainly made for a fretful night. On the day the organisers were uncertain as to how long it would take most of us, so we started at seven am, and were encouraged to carry lights, in case we rode into the other end of the day.

As it turned out, apart from a heavy shower of rain just after the midway point, the day was excellent, and we finished, weary and smiling in a warm, sunny Coromandel. I was foolish enough to believe that a twenty three rear would be a sufficient gear for Whangapoua, I was better prepared than those with only twenty ones, but I still chewed my bars, wrenched and groaned my way to the top that day.

Since then, every year I have enjoyed the day, the weather has been excellent and I have come away satisfied and smiling. This Saturday I want for those feelings again and a good, fun, safe day enjoying the challenge.

Least we forget

On Saturday two of us took our loinfruit and went to The Belgians Have Not Forgotten. It is a memorial exhibition by the Passchendale Memorial Musuem. It is currently at Fort Takapuna.

The exhibition features photos, diary exerts, films, music and artefacts from the battles ninety two years ago. Five thousand crosses greet visitors outside, they represent the number of New Zealanders killed in Belgian during the First World War, double the number killed in Gallipoli.


The exhibition is intensely moving and powerful, words alone cannot describe the horror that of the subject matter, but the exhibition does well to convey so much, and a sense of place, history, sorrow, sympathy and understanding.

I was glad to have visited, equally glad to have walked out into a bright sunny spring day, stricken that so many whose lives featured perished in wet, muddy fields, so far from home.

Today, we do indeed live in fortunate times.










More information can be found here , the exhibition runs until November 15th 2009. Go, pay your respects to those that fell, remember them and the mass of others who have fallen in the various terrible conflicts that litter human history.

Candy and a currant bun

The tandem, what, in all that is holy, ever inspired a man to create that infernal object of debasement? As earlier mentioned, Mikeal, he of the monkey gland and monkey hand, and I rode the object of terror this afternoon.

The plan we had agreed on was that I would be on the front, and he would be in the rear. Earlier Mikeal had suggested that we just get on and ride the thing, even suggesting riding the metal roads of the Coromandel as a way of getting used to it. He nagged, suggesting an afternoon's cruise through pre-rush hour traffic on Tamaki Drive, complete with traffic lights and other road-users.

Thankfully a modicum of caution prevailed. Dressed inappropriately we attempted our first ride, slightly downhill, on the footpath, thinking that having grass either side would be a good thing. We started, stuttered, wobbled, cursed and never got up to any pace greater than walking. The problem was that the rear component of the human factor was unable to relax and leave the control to the front half, as a consequence, his attempted steering, moving his body and cursing, made steering for me all but impossible and the tandem writhed like a worm in hot water. Coordinated pedalling was impossible. Dignity was stripped in an instant. Grave doubts assailed us.

We decided that maybe we swap positions, with me in the rear, being slightly more relaxed, but still terrified. This time we set off down the road, around the corner and down a stretch of straight road, it all went pretty well. We stopped in a drive, turned the ocean liner around and set off again, wobbling badly, with curses flying from the front half. We amused a car load of onlookers with the sight of two grown men looking terrified on a bike, together, in decidedly non-cycling appropriate apparel, the front wearing jandals and the back in red band gumboots. We managed to turn the corner and ride up the slight rise to the safety of home. There we contemplated what lay ahead.

With a few modifications, bike shoes on this time, we headed out in the rain for another brief sortie. This went much better, with straightline being straightline. Problem was that the street was slightly downhill and wet, ending with a T intersection with a major arterial road. The front half started braking, and found the brakes were a little wanting, the back half, me, started to get very anxious and rapidly assess a way to abandon ship. Finally, after several, eternal seconds we halted without entering the arterial road. Heart in mouth stuff.

We turned the beast around and rode home. Bewildered, but not beaten.

There is going to be a moderate amount of practise required before the end of November methinks.

Ian and Myra

Tandemonium.
No, it's not some wierd new element created by firing neutrons, positrons, electrons or other small bits of matter at slightly larger bits of matter and hoping that something sticks.

Instead think:-
Burke and Wills
Nelson and Hardy
Achilles and Patroclus
Bonnie and Clyde
Fred and Ginger
Roy Rogers and Trigger
Michael and Bubbles

This is a new unholy union that, hopefully, will be remembered for all the right reasons, and not for scarring the eyes of thousands with Mikeal's (you know, him, master of chicken feeding) backside encased in mid 'eighties Tinley swim/ride apparel.

The union we are contemplating is a tandem assault of the Round Taupo. We want to behave like a great white shark, gliding effortless through the shoals of riders, snapping their legs when we hit the flat and making grown men go bug-eyed.

This is a venture that is filled with positives, we are fit and strong, we have ridden the event before, we enjoy riding bikes, we will be a satorial trainsmash, we have little fear. There are only a few negatives, neither of us has ridden a tandem before, we have a tendency to argue and bicker, we are both a little stubborn, we have only four weeks to get our act together.

This afternoon we will rip the seal from our tandem chastity, having borrowed CTB's tandem, we have decided that we will just get on and ride. I'm prepared to wager very good money that there will be several near crashes, several sets of shouted instructions, several attempts to stand in unison, some bewildered pedestrians and motorists, a truckload of laughter and a pair of grins a mile wide.

I will post an update, and maybe a photo, after the trembling subsides tonight.

User Conflict

I am bewildered by the whole ruckus that is occurring at the present time in the New Zealand media about cars versus cyclists.

In the last few weeks there have been a number of high profile accidents involving cars hitting cyclists, and one of these resulted in the death of the cyclist. There was also a prominent case of an elderly woman, with previous convictions for drink-driving, who hit, and killed, a cyclist in the Lower North Island. These cases, and the car hitting a bunch of cyclists on Auckland's Tamaki Drive on a recent Saturday morning, have pushed the mainstream media into a frenzy.

Firstly, the cyclist who was tragically killed last week on Peak Road as a result of a hit and run was Graham Robinson, a well respected and loved North Shore GP. I would like to extend my condolences to his family. He was in training for the Great Ride for the Heart in early 2010, and was an advocate for the health benefits of cycling and exercise. A fund raising page to assist the Heart Foundation directly through rider sponsorship has been set up for Graham and can be visited here . It is a worthy cause, and well worth supporting.

None of what I am about to say diminishes the tragedy of any of the above mentioned deaths or injuries, and, to my mind, and in an ideal world, they were avoidable and should never have happened.

Now, to the nub of the issue, and the cause of my bewilderment. I firmly believe that this issue, motorists versus cyclists, is a true media beat up, and in reality is a symptom of a far deeper malaise within New Zealand society. That malaise is that we, as a nation, are extremely inconsiderate road-users.

Firstly a few statistics.
According to the Land Transport Safety Authority, from 1 January to 23 October here are the deaths of cyclists in road accidents for the last two years:-
2008 2009
9 8

Worse yet, here are the deaths of pedestrians for the same periods:-
2008 2009
24 27

Deeper data can be found here the Ministry of Transport Cyclist Crash Fact Sheet.

Here is a summary of cycling deaths and injuries (Police reported) for the 20 years from 1987 to 2007.Hell, from this, twenty years ago, New Zealand's roads were a war zone!

On the face of it, based on these stats and the the growth of cycling, cycling has become safer, but so have New Zealand roads as a whole.

Cycling has grown as a sport, a form of exercise and recreation dramatically in the last decade, and as such cyclists are riding in far great numbers and more visible to the wider community than ever before. Add to this mix the wide ranging abilities and behaviours within cyclists that I have alluded to previously in this blog. In Auckland this increased visibility on one of the few flat, scenic roads, Tamaki Drive has also come with increased user conflict.

In the case of Tamaki Drive I firmly believe both sides are at fault here. We, all road users, have rights on the roads, we also have obligations, both legal and communal, but too often we ignore these. We take umbrage at others who transgress laws, or even merely inconvenience us.

That Tamaki Drive is an iconic piece of road, an arterial commuting drive, is part of the reason that mainstream media (print, talkback radio) have latched onto, and fed, the conflict so well. Easy pickings, what they are doing is ignoring the wider issues here and often simplifying a complex issue into very simple ideas.

As a road user (motorist, cyclist, pedestrian) my perception is that New Zealand road users are a pretty rude, impatient and intolerant lot. Why this is, is a thesis for some bright, budding student, but, anecdotally for me, road user behaviour is worsening. If I compare New Zealand roads to my limited experiences as a rider, driver and pedestrian in various overseas countries we, here in New Zealand, are selfish road users. We don't consider other road users to any great degree.

I am all for an increase of road user safety, but not just for cyclists, but for all road users. I don't have any easy answer to provide that increase, but I do my part everyday to help make that happen. I would encourage all of you to think about how you ride, drive and behave on the road, how you interact with your fellow road users and hope that you will encourage others to do likewise.

Compact flashed

Things of a random nature.

I am in Napier, which as the locals are always proud to brag, is the sunshine capital of New Zealand. At the moment, however, it isn't. It's horrid, it's cold, wet and a little breezy, all together like Invercargill, or one of those other places where you only visit under duress, for work, weddings or twenty firsts.

In Napier's defence I did get out for a ride last night and rode the metal trails along the tops of various stopbanks. It was glorious, no traffic, apart from bovine, and pancake flat. I'd thoroughly recommend more of these are created, damn sterling idea.

Matt, he of the still not providing naked women fame, has informed me of a slight blunder with his Ibis that he wishes to sell. The frame has grown, it's now a fifty six centrimetre frame, has gone from hobbit size to elf size. Worth a look methinks.

I traipsed about the Coromandel on the weekend, some riding, where I learnt suffering anew, and some wonderful communing with nature. Had a great encounter in the pre-dawn in the bush on Sunday with Tui and Kaka. Not just one Kaka, but a troop of five of them, all like naughty teenage boys looking for trouble. It was uplifting.

Lastly, I would like to inflict lasting pain and suffering on the sub-species of Homo sapiens that sees fit to throw their glass bottles from cars. Quite why they do this is beyond me, but I think they are worthy of being sat upon a small campfire. In the past month I have now lost three tyres to glass cuts, and have a couple of others that bear the scars of the encounters.

Reminder, keep an eye out for Gayle's bike, it may turn up in the strangest of places.

Back to the bunker now.

Stolen Bianchi

Some lowlife scum broke into the front room of Gayle Brownlee’s house in Auckland and stole her lovely Bianchi yesterday afternoon. If you could spread the word and keep an eye out for the bike (photo above) it would be really great.

Bianchi Via Nirone 2007
Campagnolo 2007 Veloce group with 2008 Chorus cranks
American Classic sprint 350 wheel set
Look Keo sprint pedals (new last week)
FSA bars
San Marco Ponza saddle – black
Black bar tape

Feel happy to eviscerate anyone caught riding it and help get the bike back to Gayle.

Thanks

Dopplegangers

Today I did what everybody does at a moment of boredom, no Jorge, I didn't chase ovine interests around, I googled my name.

What did I discover? Well, spelt correctly, there is an army of me, scary in dimension, plus a few places dotted around the globe. So, purely of the people here's a sample.

One is an author, from wikipedia:-

Stuart Hill worked at a car factory for 6 years before going back to college to get his teaching degree. After teaching for several years, his life led him to create books that would impact the 21st Century. Stuart began writing the Icemark Series and once his books were accepted by Chicken House publishing Inc., he dedicated his time to writing the rest of the series. In 2004, Stuart published and copyrightedThe Cry of the Icemark.

His love for words came when he was only seven years old. Stuart saw and began to play with words because they gave him an interest in which any other person would find insane.

Another is a sailor of sorts and a fruitbat (truth be told he is my favourite Stuart Hill and the one well worth reading about), from wikipedia:-

Mr Hill gained the name “Captain Calamity” after he caused 5 lifeboat launches and 2 rescue helicopter call outs during a failed attempt to single-handedly circumnavigate Britain in a “15-foot (4.6 m) dinghy” during 2001. His vessel "Maximum Exposure", a “converted rowing boat” “likened to a glorified sailboard” with a sail "canibalized" from a windsurfing board was considered by many, including the Coastguard and RNLI to be under equipped and “unfit” for such a journey.

Louis Rivett-Carnac, of the Great Yarmouth coastguard said

"This type of craft is totally unsuitable for what he wanted to do. Even if you were Francis Drake you would have trouble in a craft like that."

Also on the same Stuart Hill

On 14 April 2009 Hill wrote a letter to the Shetland News website claiming that he had installed "devices" in the waters surrounding Forewick Holm "that can hole the hull of any boat and others [devices] designed to foul propellers."

Then there's Stuart Hill, Professor of Social Ecology at the Hawksbury Campus of the University of Western Sydney.

Not to be confused with Stuart Hill Photography, your professional photography source for the National Capitol Region! Let us photograph your special event.

Or Stuart Hill is a metal worker specializing in the forging and fabrication of traditional ironwork. From “Mountain Rustic” to “French Chateau”, the works of Stuart Hill are truly custom pieces of traditional craftsmanship.

Also is Stuart Hill, 36 year old, cruise ship restaurant manager, who has spent 14 years managing restaurants with over 200 service staff all over the world. Currently working from home, in the South of Spain. Sheltering from the heat, and writing his web site cruise-with-stu

Another is appearing every Tuesday night at a local Tandoori restuarant in Arlington Virginia. Stuart Hill plays the relaxing, meditative music of the Native American Indian flute. Stuart believes that the flute is an instrument that truly allows a person to portray their heart and soul.

What variety!

Maybe I should start a club, but I'm thinking first I need to improve myself a little and have some esoteric hobby that will be a point of difference. Toad-sexing maybe?

Enough frivolity, yesterday I rode with the Albany seven o'clock group, as always it was well behaved, safe and a damn good time. It is a bunch that has run for a longtime, and most of the faces have changed, but the attitude and etiquette hasn't. It's a great loop, with a few challenges, some fast stuff and pretty roads.

Well worth the early start and I have promised myself that it won't be quite so long between visits.

The World's Best Cycling Blog

Is THIS it?

I reckon it's a hot contender!

I can imagine that even Jorge the Heretic will give it two thumbs up.

Was Butler Right?

Shall I muse silently upon the deeds of recent past, or shall I recount them for you dear Reader?

My saddle time has been curtailed with a journey to the South Island to visit the place of my spawning and the bosom of my parents. It was also a chance for the co-habitating one point three metres of punching testosterone to spend some time with animals and pasture in a gentle environment.

As always it is an interesting experience to visit somewhere familiar and compare it to where I now live. Christchurch is flat, but butted up to the city are the Port Hills, and an hours drive away across the plains are the foothills of the ranges.

Bike riding is pretty easy, apart from when it's a howling Norwest wind, or the temperature takes one of those almighty plunges that it can down that way as a front comes through.

What is interesting is that there are a huge number of quiet country roads that are pancake flat, close to the city and as boring as Coronation Street, but also close by are the Port Hills and Lyttleton Harbour. While not riddled with roads, they do have a mix of terrain and climbs (and vistas) to make any rider swoon. The Summit Road is magnificent, only real drawback is that it's hellishly exposed to the wind on the tops and is very narrow, so the odd bad driver can be a pretty unpleasant surprise.

Great roads, and I wished I'd had my bike with me.

We did also venture inland to visit a relative who manages a large station, this place is a working station, with several thousand head of merino sheep and a few hundred head of deer.

My loin fruit was thrilled to run wild, talk to animals, ride things and be involved in a bit of sheep saving when the weather turned savage. For a city kid like him it was heaven.

The station is also well set up as a tourist operation with a lodge and gardens. It's spectacular country and is riddled with farm tracks, spectacular trout fishing and some MTB trails. It's just begging to be explored by bike.

And soon it should be. The local runholders have become very active in campaigning to establish a bike trail as part of the new National Cycleway.

From near Arthurs Pass down to Christchurch, off road, using a mix of existing farm tracks, rail corridor and a few new trails. The trail will run through a lot of the Waimakariri Gorge and pass through magnificent scenery.
The thinking will be to use some of the existing working huts and provide infrastructure to enable these to be provisioned for cycling visitors in a fashion similar to the Central Otago Railtrail. Brilliant thinking, allows the masses to see country that has remained unreachable up until now and provides another potential revenue stream for the local economy.

From a purely selfish point of view my real interest in the area lies with my relative. Some of it I went through as a child, going fishing or similar, but only on the margins. Now, through him there is a door that has been opened for me to go and ride some truly big country, true expedition riding. That, to me, is just pure, unalloyed gold.

Immigrant's lament

Silence, damned silence from me, all due to my paying a visit to the town of my spawning. There, I was deprived of access to the interweb, so no defying thoughts what so ever. However I am returned from the Land of Ice and Snow and will post a missive and tales pronto.

As an interesting aside, Lyttleton hosts a magnificent cafe, The Lyttleton Coffee Co and is well worth a visit, even if outside it's sleeting and it's October.

Also, I may have euro-fruity cranks, but they are long and manly.