Nitrite

Sometimes life is what it is, and other times it is exactly that.
Day twenty two and a song that I listen to when I'm sad.

Unlikely ever

My legs are still a little missing, okay, lets make that a whole lot missing. Sunday's ride, while excellent, has highlighted just how much of a sapling I am.
That aside, legs were good today, until I tried an effort, then it was a rapid epiphany. It will pass, and I shall become fitter, stronger and faster.

I have realised also, that bar the odd moment on Vredestein 23mm tyres, I love riding good 25mm tyres. They offer comfort, speed and security, so much so that I am dallying with the concept of 27mm or 28mm rubber. What am I going to do with the 20mm virgin I have in the shed? Scarifice her at the alter of stupidity?

Day twenty one and a song that I play when I am happy.
Bugger me, I've been waiting for this.

The twitch upon the line

Day Twenty - and a song I play when I'm angry. Yup, this fits the bill well.
Believe it or not, there is more than one song on my angry song list, but who would have thought that of me?

Falco novaeseelandiae

Some reckoning today. 180 kilometres, things went well with a nice little bunch of six. My legs, while willing on the flat, were useless, then more useless, then pitiful on the hills. The final straw came as I crept up Sandstone, it was an exercise in patience, and I was so slow that Junior was given to ask as to whether I had walked.

One of the highlights of the ride was Mikeal's keen-eyed spotting of a New Zealand Falcon, Karearea, over the mangroves between Kawakawa and Clevedon. Stunning little bird, so agile. I didn't realise that there were any around Auckland, this was a real gem.

Day nineteen, and a song from my favourite album. The album is The Return of the Grievous Angel. It's a tribute to Gram Parsons, and has a wide variety of musicians on it recording Gram's songs. It is consistent from Go to Whoa, and has been a constant companion since it's purchase last century.
a single song doesn't do it just, so here are two!

Sparta

So, day seventeen beckons, and a song that I'd like to hear on the radio.
This is New Jersey, to me.
This takes me back, to wandering Liberty State Park NJ, while tourists were getting brow beaten by loud speakers, and the males were saying "Hey Martha", and they were, but 400 yards, or so, away and gazing at Ellis Island, or a little further out, about to land at the Statue of Liberty. I was lucky. Ashore, on the Jersey side of the Hudson and a world away from the tourists and hacks.

Tomorrow, day of reckoning stuff, I will knock out 180kms with Junior, The Croc and The Worm, and maybe Mikeal the Onanstic One. I will wager my firstborn's humour that I will fail in the legs department and suffer an indignity or two. But prior to that happening, I will be the nagging verbal scourge in the bunch.

I will be back.

More ivory

Even further up the river, and the temptations increase.

Day seventeen and a song I hear often on the radio.
Here's the really grunty live version, but I can't embed it, due to some quirck in youtube, and somebody wanting to protect the footage, so click the link to follow it.

Led zeppelin - The Immigrant Song

And here is a studio version that still rocks, but isn't a patch on the live one.

Kurtz revisited

So, this is a journey back, a long way back.
Into my youth, and the angst and anger that I had there, along with teenaged musical sensibilities that defied logic, and was set around a principle of defying my parents and gaining peer approval. Not for me Dire Straits, or Bucks Fizz, no I was more of a magpie.
I had some choices that I still embrace, and some songs that I really do treasure, and a few that make me cringe, and some that just make me want to smash the speakers. This is one of those songs.
Day sixteen and a song I used to love, but now I hate.

Revco

Day fifteen - a song that describes me. I'm just a little boy at heart. Really!

Dis Stressed

A cautionary photo above.

My stem, uncrashed, but a couple of years old. On Thursday I had a creaking sound, Sunday it was constant annoyance. I thought BB, or pedal. Pulled the bike to bits, well, those offending parts, still no obvious signs and all the bearings were peachy.

Cleaned the bike and noticed this, it has happened quite quickly, and left me pretty shaken.

The wider community has cast various theories wide as to the why. Reasons include:-
Too many Pies
Too many Custard Squares
Too much lateral force (walking up steep hills)
Too much home baking

There may be some truth in it.

Anyway, Day fourteen and a song that no one would expect me to love.

Reddened

Day thirteen - a song that is a guilty pleasure

Good and evil

This run of clear weather has been quite staggering, while nippy, it has made for some wonderful moments on the bike. I have made hay, metaphorically, while the sun shines. Today I rolled around the BCL, second time in the week. It was a complete contrast to Tuesday's misery, damp, chilly and hard. Today was pleasant, steady, great temperatures and views, wonderful views.

In even greater contrast there is this:-

Day Twelve - a song from a band I hate. I don't have too much to add to this.

Repeat

Well since I am revisiting a video I posted not that long ago to fulfill Day eleven, and a song from my favourite band, I thought I might as well plunder the archives, and throw up a photo I have posted before.
Taken January a while ago, Raukokore, Eastern Bay of Plenty. Always a magical spot.

Grist to the mill

Well, some days run nicely to plan, and some days just don't.
Today, the sun, sky and chill in the air reminded me of Dunedin, or more rather, the Taieri. With a breeze that was so lazy it was disinclined to go around one, instead penetrating, and clarity of the air that spoke of frost and icy puddles, it was an atypical day for an Auckland winter.
Distant landscapes were visible, individual trees and contours clearly shown, it was a joy.

Enough of the poetic, on to the more prosaic and Day ten, a song that I can fall asleep to. Oddly this was a difficult and troubling choice for me.

Evasion

Day nine - A song I can dance to...
Oh there are many that will fit the bill here, everything from the unlikely to the obnoxious, but this just suits my shuffling about perfectly.

Killer clown

This spell of cold weather has been a most unpleasant shake up of the natural order of my mind. I escaped the South Island last century to avoid these sort of unpleasant experiences, where Spring gets mauled by Winter. I shouldn't complain, as I still have vivid memories of racing in December, and it snowing as I rode, that will never happen in this neck of the woods.
But this weather also reminded me of a twenty minutes of sheer hell in a two up time trial out at Mosgiel, Otago. There was snow on the sides of the road, and it sleeted as we rode. I thought I could be man enough to do it with no leg warmers. Wrong, I was almost crying from pain, and my legs were a funny motley colour. What a complete fool I was.
As a complete aside, ever wonder what John Wayne Gacy's last meal was? Well wonder no more, here is a recreation. Almost a happy meal.

Day eight - a song that I know all the words to

Ineptitude

Day Seven - a song that reminds me of an event.
Well, where do I start, I have many songs that remind me of many events, some funny, some sad, some just down right foolish.
So I have picked one, because it's a trifle more recent than many others, and to a degree an indication of just how perverse some of my musical choices can be.
This little ditty was the unpleasant little surprise that launched out of my phone after it had been suggested that I provide some musical accompaniment, and pulg it into the speakers on the boat, while we set to chasing Seriola sp. out around Flat Rock last summer.
All was peachy with various other tunes drifting forth, until this lurched out. There was a look on the skipper's face that was pained, and even I realised that some songs are best left on dry land.
To add insult to injury that day I managed to birdsnest a reel at the critical moment and lost the only Kingfish we had had a sniff of all day.

Fractured Radius

Day six, and a song that reminds me of somewhere.
This takes me straight to Lincoln Road, Christchurch and 1985.
Near the railways tracks, and some pubs that are no longer there.
Addington, the prison was still there, the Epitaph Riders had their gang house, and
the Stork Inn Milkbar served enormous milkshakes made with malt and eggs.


I hear this and I am instantly transported back to

Sensing murmur

Day five and a song that remind me of someone.
Well this would have to be Wire with Champs.
Reminds me of Finn. He fell in love with Wire, not because of me, but completely independently. All due to Cassette, a BMX dvd with a better than the usual soundtrack
that tends to accompany such offerings. The opening sequence, set to Champs is a superb mix of BMX footage that infected a small boy's brain a couple of years ago, and he was delighted to find that I had lots of Wire, it's been on relatively high rotation for him ever since.

Cetaceans

Oh dear, a foggy, foggy morning, and the blanket obscured much.

And so to The thirty song caper...a song that makes me sad. Hell, I can mine a whole vein musical history to find the appropriate piece of misery, and then I'd have a queue a mile long for the grand title, so instead I just picked a doozy of a tune. Listen, feel melancholy.

Everyone's a winner, baby!

I have enjoyed much amusement at a recent piece in Wired about studies in the esoteric field of zombie brains. While it had some serious postulations, and a great deal of humour, it did make me consider how close to zombies we are.
From that, it was a small step to thinking as to whether, if I was scanned in a crapulent state, I would exhibit similar neural patterns.
Frightening thought, as even though I am very much an average type bear, I can make a reasonable assumption that close to 50% of the population have intellectual horsepower that is equal or less than mine.
So, given that mass of humanity that represents, and how many of that mass enjoy the life-enhancing experience of a hangover on a regular state, does this mean that we have zombies in our midst most Saturday and Sunday mornings?
A worrying thought when I head out the door clad in the less than bite resistant cladding of lycra.

Well on to more positive things, I will throw up the link for day three of the thirty day song challenge - A song that makes me happy.
And after that dreadful tripe of yesterday, this song always makes me grin like a fool and feel warmth in my brain.

Watering gums

Day Two - A song that is my least favourite.
Does that mean the song I hate the most?
Either way, this one floats to the top of the pool of scum.

Vanity

If nothing else, I can blame Ian Keiller for this foolishness.
The 30 day song challenge, a whole list, where one has to provide a song within the context of the list prescribed. Easy I thought, an easy way for a flagging mind to provide filler for one's blog. But now I look at it, and think, maybe not so....
Anyway, in the immortal words of an over-sized mouse "worth a crack Nigel"

Day 01: A favourite song

Lucinda Williams - Pineola

Marlow wonders

Now civilised, refreshed, sleep enriched and enthusiastic I have been taking stock of Sunday's ride. I have endured my far share of mockery, even from the Highlands of Scotland, with regard to my wander up the steeper section of Kiwitahi Road.

The last time I placed a foot on the ground there was the very first time I rode the climb. It was last century, and with Warren King, I was on my steel Merckx, and he on his Bianchi. I had a 39 x 21 bottom gear, and the difference to Sunday was that climb was metal from the very bottom. It was the middle of summer, and a small brain implosion made us ride up there. I can claim that it was my foolish idea, but Warren did nothing to dissuade me from the concept.

We slogged our way up, what was a steep, corrugated and dusty climb, and just when I hit that final wall I stood, and all traction evaporated. Warren sailed on, he had a 23T, whereas I had ballast and a 21T. A brief moment and I was remounted and managed to complete the ride up the wall.

The memory of that deeply repressed moment came flooding back on Sunday, at least that first time there were no spectators to witness my humiliation, and no cameras to record it for posterity. Oh well.

Now, I am planning a fiendish course for V2, and hopefully this time, I can maintain my composure.

On the up, I turned legs over on the Iron Maiden last night, found not as bad as anticipated, that was a very pleasant surprise.

The child in me finds this video just dandy!

The Waewae Express

Sunday, The Race of Six Friends, and my dignity evaporated on the race route. A route which was of my own devising.

There are now many photos on the web documenting my humiliation, and a couple of my rather tart response to a photographer or two. So I won't dwell any more upon that, instead I should like to congratulate my team.

They, racing under the name Defy Evolution, and in Wheelworks colours, and against some fancied opposition, managed second fastest time on the day and nursed me around while I whimpered and saw stars. To add to the team's staunchness, Paul Pendrey, who had been sick all week preceding, turned in a gutsy effort and showed real metal, hanging on without complaint and suffering a four hour death ride.

So, a race report. We started well, and saw the four oxen of the team rolling steadily. Within the first forty kilometres we made good inroads on the rest of the field, and managed to survive the rough and tumble of Haruru Road that marked the demise of one of the truly strong teams. We did let Tristan Thomas off the leash several kilometres before the shop stop at Kaukapakapa to speed up the process when we had the enforced stop.

After that the four oxen continued rolling at the front, while Paul hung on, and I whimpered to the rear. A helping hand from Tristan Thomas, who endured me whimpering, ensured we stayed intact over the climbs. That was until the steep section of Kiwitahi Road, where I reckoned on walking being the better option for retaining any use of my legs for the run into the finish. Dignity was already gone, so what the hell.

After that, and in the last twenty five kilometres, there was some real digging into the bottom of the box by various team members, and we finished with a very creditable result.

From the smiles and war stories of all the teams that rolled in, it was obvious they enjoyed the race and the course, I am delighted in that. I loved the opportunity to share some roads that I really enjoy, and lay a challenge a large number of riders.
Already planning on version 2 is underway, and I have a course to rival the last one,
with different roads, challenges and terrain.

Thanks Jason, Mike, Paul, Stu and Tristan, I am in awe of you all and truly proud to say that I was part of Team Defy Evolution.

Now to go and find my missing legs.