New Road Furniture

I received the above picture on Sunday morning via the joys of modern telephony and the interweb. This photo contains some deadly cycling sins. Since I wasn't there I can only comment on what I see, but know from the photo that what I see is wrong.

There's the obvious crime of a bike being placed upside down. This is a no no for several reasons, but in this case is exacerbated by the wheel that has been removed from the bike is the front wheel. A bike with it's front wheel out is still quite capable of being lent against things to balance, hell, if the ground is flat, you can even balance it on the drop-outs of the front fork.

A bike upside down with full drink bottles is inviting gravity to play it's part and let the sticky stuff within the bottle escape. Placing a bike upside down also risks scratching the shifters, hoods, computer, saddle, etc.

Plus it's a dreadful look.

Before you turn your bike upside down run through the reasons for having it's rubber side pointing skyward.
1. You're pulling a backflip
2. You're pulling a frontflip
3. You have crashed and the bike is bouncing mid crash

If you answer yes to any of the above, it's okay, if it's all "No", then don't do it.

On returning.

Sometimes there's a fair amount of serendipity in life, the photo above is a good example. Taken as Junior and I rolled along the waterfront in early April, by me, using the camera on my phone, very much the lucky shot. Junior may even get another modelling contract out of this one.

In relation to the shoulder/ground impact and broken clavicle sustained last month I saw the physio this afternoon, he gave me a pretty positive report and told me I'd been a good sensible chap. I have a list of exercises which will return me to manhood in a jiffy. I have been using the Iron Maiden in the garage a bit, probably not enough, but I value my mental health also. It will prove interesting to see how incapable I have become when I return to riding on the road.

I am itching to get out on the road, but with a fair degree of responsibility residing on my improving shoulder I'm cautious, not a bad thing, but I feel a little like Courage the Cowardly Lion. Additionally I'd quite like to shift the other moniker I have been saddled with, and crashing again in the short term would pin that on me firmly.

And what about the Giro d'Italia? What a fantastic race, excitement, pathos, breakaways, crashes, mud, grit, tears and a World Champion who is riding like just that. I'm no Evans fan, but it's great to see the Rainbow Jersey getting a decent outing. And not just in the Giro either.

It's just what professional cycling needs at the moment, as the storm clouds gather. I'm no apologist for what is currently unfolding with confessions and accusations of doping and drug taking, and I believe, or hope, that there will be a lot of good come out of the box that has been opened and peeked into, it's just I don't want the TDF and doping revelations centred on that event detract from other outstanding racing that is taking place, and the sea change that appears to be occurring in cycling with regard to accepted practice.

Te Ako o te Tui

Right, what have I been doing? Somewhere my life has taken a lurch to the left. As a consequence posting to this organ has been tardy and erratic by any standards.

The windtrainer still greets me disdainfully. However the moment of freedom from the garage is not far off, and I can barely wait. My clavicle is healing well, but I've been given strict instructions by medical staff not to leave home without the sling. I'm being boring, but good.

At CTB's fortieth birthday festivities on Saturday my Minion demonstrated great skill and luck to win a pocketful of gold and admiration in the Paper, Scissors, Rock competition. It was great to see him get his game face on and keep his composure under pressure.

On that note, a happy birthday to you, CTB, you're almost at the halfway point.

Mus uni non fidit antro

First off, some recent scientific reporting that Explains some of us. I'm just damned pleased to know it's not just modern day Homo sapiens who engage in strange and immoral behaviour.

Following on from my last missive, CTB contacted me, and while expressing some doubt, felt that The Evil Homo moniker was still mine. Although he did applaud Mikeal roundly for his demonstration of cul de sac stupidity.

My ongoing use of the windtrainer is starting to seriously stress me, I have worked out a virtual play list to get me through these sessions of hell, I've also found that I struggle to watch DVDs while performing efforts, so it's all pretty much music based boredom relief. I could divulge the playlist, but I have a sneaking suspicion that most readers eye's will glaze over and those that don't, will mark me off as a heretic, so instead I'll just leave you to imagine the worst.

My regular road bike, the one not subjected to the indignity of being saddled stationery is looking very forlorn. I'm thinking that if the weather plays it's part then I may drive out to the New Lynn velodrome and entertain a few laps, that way I can more easily judge my readiness to re-enter riding in the outside world, with minimal risk. I know this runs counter to the lack of bodily disregard that I displayed in the first instance, and that landed me the broken thing, but being as profoundly right-handed as I am, this injury is causing me no end of inconvenience.

However, not all has been bad in my life, on Friday night, several of us, and our assorted male offspring went to the Auckland Domain to watch the special stage of the Rally of New Zealand. It was an excellent spectacle and well worth attending. Below is a very short video clip that captures some of the noise and speed that I witnessed.

Il Falco

The length of time between last post and this one is a reflection in the difficulty I have typing accurately with my left hand. Actually, my left-handed typing speed and accuracy is purely symptomatic of a variety of life's tasks that are slow and challenging for me, due to my inability to land a jump out of the bowl (saucer would be a better description) pictured above.

Pictured also is the offending cycle with the rider, who can jump and land things.

CTB disclosed his name for foolishness, it came from two people mishearing a comment of his, and stuck from there. The rules for the recipient are as follows:-
They must crash by themselves and through their own ineptness.
The name stays with them until they can find a suitable new recipient.
The name that CTB came up with was The Evil Homo. This came about when he was riding with DB and Gael. He mentioned about descending like Il Falco from Como (Paolo Salvodelli, who was reknowned for his descending prowess), somehow the others misheard this and instead heard CTB announce that he was descending like an Evil Homo. Much laughter ensued.

Given some stiff competition a couple of weeks a go from Mikeal, Junior and Del Woodford, I was a little confident that my crash might not quite be the ultimate bicycle handling debarcle and that I may avoid the pain and ignominy of the title. On reflection I ranked as a deserved winner.

However I am saved, by quite some margin in fact. I'm fortunate that by the time I'm back on the road, the new owner of the title will be used to wearing it and will be looking to pass it on.

Last week, I endured Mikeal enquiring as to how I was coping using my non-dominant hand for lavatory purposes. I had to file a daily wipe report. On Friday night Doris came and took the Spawn of my Loins and myself in to the Auckland Domain to see the archival Anzac film footage being screened on the outside of the War Memorial Musuem. As we drove, she asked if I'd heard about Mikeal's accident with a Nifty Fifty. No, I replied, it was news to me.

What transpired is last Tuesday (the very week that he is giving me grief about showing off and being useless) Mikeal had a friend visit (would that be the two of them in the masturbatorium?), said friend had a Nifty Fifty. Mikeal jumped on this and made to ride up their cul de sac. The mighty 50cc engine was too much for him, and he wheelied it, lost control and then lost his dignity and a reasonable amount of skin of elbows, hips, and hands. All less than fifty metres from his front door. On a Nifty Fifty no less.

He kept this a secret, and I suspect that he was hoping his wounds would heal and he'd be able to avoid humiliation. Unfortunately, not so.

The honorific is all yours Mikeal, thanks for saving me.

Nelson and me!

As it turned out, last weekend was a weekend for the crashes.

The opening shot was from the Onanator himself, Mikeal, when he tangled with an errant steer in Totara Park, while MTBing. He claims there were two cattle beasts, and one went right, and anticipated the other to go left, but it defied him and went right also. Net result, Mikeal hit said beast, beast runs off, Mikeal has a lie-down sans some dermis from above his left knee. When I saw the wound on Sunday, it looked like an oversized and badly placed carpet burn, but that's just idle speculation.

Next up was my graceless grass/shoulder interaction.

Then on Sunday, Junior had a pretty heavy fall on a very greasy road near Taupaki. His helmet was wrecked in the crash, but his noggin and neck are fine. Apart from other bruising, his index finger isn't too flash and is now taped to his finger more commonly used for flicking the bird.

Del Woodford also crashed in the event he organised on Sunday. From what I understand, he also crashed without the aid of a fellow cyclist.

Del's crash is rumoured to have given CTB cause for thought, and he has come up with an award for the silliest or most inept crash. Once bestowed, it's the recipient's until someone else performs a greater act of stupidity. Apparently the name and story behind it are somewhat rude. It also looked like Del was set to grab the title, until CTB heard of my Saturday act. I'm claiming showmanship in my defence.

Additionally, I have been roundly mocked and laughed at, not without just cause I may add, but the mocking started within 30 minutes of the breakage, with a crack about it still being two weeks until opening weekend. (I'll explain that shortly) Then there was the assorted laughter of all and sundry. Add the daily humiliation on the walk to and from school from the assorted school mothers. Not to be missed was the use of me for Show and Tell by my progeny, his teacher being most amused. I'm certain now that in various households around the Balmoral area, I'm being held up as a cautionary tale.

Truth be told, I'm loving the attention, I just need to find a better way to attract it.

Now, back to the Opening Weekend remark. This came from a chap, who last year, broke his shoulder falling off a sofa on Opening Day of the duck shooting season. It just so happened that the sofa was in the back of a ute. The ute was driving down a gravel road, and he stood up to moon a local. The ute served and he was ejected roadwards. Skin loss and broken shoulder ensued. At least now, he can say, without a word of a lie, he did it falling off a sofa. I need to concoct a similar euphemism to cover my stupidity.

Suggestions welcome.

The comfort of women

I'd been meaning to post a little missive describing the excellent Friday night I had last week courtesy of Doris and Mikeal, but that can wait until I'm a faster and more accurate one handed typist.

Today I'll write of my moment of stupidity and the outcome.

For the Prawn of my Loins birthday he got a new BMX bike, and very bright Haro Forum from the good chaps at Planet Cycles, and today he and I went for his first outing to a skatepark with it.
Yesterday, he'd been most impressed to see Tristan, the best wheelbuilder in NZ, ride the birthday bike, manual, bunnyhop and otherwise perform tricks that I'm incapable of.

So back to today, we headed out to Shadbolt Park and it's little skatebowl. There the Kaos Kreator rode with aplomb. Jumping, bunyhopping, almost getting a manual off the coping and generally having a ball.

Time to finish, a lunch venue agreed on, and I had a brainfart. I rode to the top of the bowl, down flat out and jumped out the other side to land on the grass. My bike jumping skills are sub-par and my landing skills, even worse. the outcome was a shoulder first landing on the grass, I felt the crack and stood up and ran my left hand over my right collarbone. It wasn't the nice smooth thing it should be, instead the skin was tented by something a bit sharp and irregular.

A trip to A&E, a couple of x-rays and a small chat where I described me being a dick has resulted in a sling, some good pain relief and an appointment in a fortnight with an orthopaedic surgeon.

At least this time the bike was undamaged.

The Best of Fall

The weekend that has just passed contained brilliant Autumnal weather and superb riding. I stacked in the miles and am starting to feel that I may be a cyclist again.

Saturday's ride with Warren and Serge was unbeatable. The route was varied (and at Serge's insistence we saved ourselves from State Highway 16). The first part of the ride was entirely on very quiet country back roads, no traffic and a glorious, windless day. The picture below tells the story.


One of the odder sights of the day was The Grim Reaper. This fellow was found in the middle of nowhere, and cuts quite an impressive figure in the rural environs.


We even managed to ride some metal roads in honour of the Queen of the Classics. For a change Serge was quite happy about the experience. The two kilometres of metal being in very good condition and passed quickly.
Here's one exiting the metal.


And the other.


The reward for the metal road was this view, the Tasman Sea stretching out bluely. Please excuse the crooked horizon, was taken while riding.
Note to The Crocodile:-
When you and I rode this road last year, we encountered thick fog here, and all the way along the top of this ridge/cliff. You were unbelieving as to how close the sea was, or that we were even close to the ocean. Later you looked at maps and saw where we were. But, at last, I get to show you the view.

Sunday dawned the same, so I took the mutt to the dog park. The upper half of the North Island is suffering a drought, and here is reasonable evidence of this. Normally this face of Big King is green and lush, here it's anything but. There is also a very happy dog in this photo.

Later I entertained myself by riding Scenic Drive in absolutely unbeatable conditions.



I did, however, make a fundamentally stupid decision and decided to ride up Duffy Road after I been over the top, and climbed up out of Bethalls. The 26% grade ripped my legs from me, and I whimpered.
It took quite some time to regain any sort of pedalling composure.

Lastly, here's a piece of very shakey phone camera video work showing the hidden delight that is Chamberlains Road.

It was a very good weekend.

The Hell of the North

A taste of the best of tomorrow's punishment/glory.

This is a video of part of Team Sky's Paris-Roubaix recon ride. It's shot with a bar cam on Flecha's bike.

Tasty.

Tardust

I stuffing the miles, like a greedy man. I have had Easter and racked up some good training then, now the tribe is tiki-touring around the North Island, infesting BMX tracks and skate parks, so I'm domiciled in the domestic abode, with merely myself and my mongrel for company, and I'm capitalising on this chance, the good weather and current mental fortitude in tracking down my missing fitness.

This cold snap, sure it's clear skies, but it's still unpleasantly cold compared to what we are used to, has come suddenly, and the darker recesses of the cycling wardrobe are being plumbed. Hell, I'm not ready for thermal 3/4s, full finger gloves and cold tootsies.


Some songs just hurt.

Cautious creeping

Easter, that great holiday and celebration that, for us in the southern hemisphere, signals the descent into Fall, and the loss of daylight, colder temperatures and knee warmers. This year, Easter was magnificent in the weather stakes. Windless, with warm days and mild nights, not a whimper from me can be heard.

I knocked out some good miles on the bike, stringing together rides over the four days. My goal is to return to being the man I was in Summer before having a lie down in a crit, wedding festivities, moving house and some other assorted stupidity ripped all fitness from me.

On Saturday I took my son, all 7 years and 51 weeks of him, and the dog up to Woodhill to meet Warren and his dog. Junior also had his loinfruit there with another school dad and more offspring, they arrived after us, and did their own thing. My Village Idiot thought he was king of the world, riding with two men and two dogs, it was great. After Lulu, my dog, had ingested various picnic leftovers around the carpark we finally got going.

Warren, the dogs, the Kaos Kreator and I rolled around various trails, I was shown how grossly inadequate my technical riding skills are on rails, my son riding things with ease. Eventually we saw Junior and co at the start of the Cookie Trail, there the assorted midgets had a bit of a conflab and compared notes, then the two parties went their respective ways.

Of our party, I can report that we had a ball, but I did break Lulu, the dog, a little. By the end she was just trotting, well to the rear and taking any shortcuts available, obviously her pre-ride carpark nutrition wasn't sufficient. She did arrive home, thoroughly exhausted, but very happy. Meanwhile Charlie, Warren's pooch, was still spritely at the end, she is a ball of energy and a delight to be round.

Tonight I carried on racking up the miles. With the aid of a decent light I tackled some of the Waitaks. It was glorious, quiet, dark roads, a mild night and sometime glimpses of distant city lights. The only thing truly missing, because I was a bit later and I also normally ride these roads in the pre-dawn, were the assorted walkers, dogs and runners who almost always say "Gidday". At various points I felt like the world was asleep.

I have been blessed.

Positive Action

Yet another cyclist has been bowled and killed in Auckland, this most recent accident happened last week, and is a tragedy for all involved. Unlike many of the recent accidents, the driver involved has admitted culpability, but that doesn't diminish the horror of the situation.

Amy Taylor wrote a piece in response to this tragedy and had the presence of mind to send it far and wide. With Amy's permission I have included her original email.

The success of the Kiwi team at the World Track Cycling Championships this week has been remarkable, but this success is also over shadowed by yet another death of a cyclist.

Dr Johann Edge was killed on Thursday night riding home from work through Pakuranga, Auckland. Known as Han’s to his friends, he was best-man at my good friends Joy and Vini’s wedding. Han’s was 36, and left behind 3 young children – the youngest only 4-months. Han’s is another unfortunate statistic that did not need to happen.

Cycling is not dangerous, and neither is driving. But unskilful cycling and unskilful driving is. We can sit back and moan, and wait for ourselves, our children or our friends to become a statistic or we can take positive action to change the culture of sharing the road. So how do we do this?

* Be visible by doing your best to dress up like a Christmas tree, unfashionably out of season. One light is not enough – just in case the batteries run out, always have two, and wear bright clothing. Riding with others also helps visibly and presence on the road.

* Educate every person you know at work, and within your circle of family and friends about how to safely share the road driving, and cycling. The more people that know how to, and know the consequences of 2-seconds of impatience, the safer our roads will be. Take, and make every opportunity to educate.

* Have presence by avoiding riding in the gutter. It is safer to ride 1-metre out as cars can seen you and have to drive around you. If they come close, you then have 1-metre leeway to move to the left. If you are in the gutter, and they side swipe you, you have nowhere to go.

* Take action if someone does something inappropriate. Be it another cyclist or a driver, and educate them. Likewise, if any roads are particularly unsafe contact your local council and help come up with solutions. Be a part of the solution, and don’t sit back and expect solutions to happen of out inaction. If you are driving in your car be mindful of cyclists, and if you see someone driving unsafely around cyclists take their number plate details and report it. As a driver, advocate for cyclists.

* Learn how to ride by taking cycling classes. There are techniques you can learn to make cycling with others and in traffic safer for you and for cars.

* Do not react with anger if a driver is throwing their fist at you. Think of the next cyclist they will encounter and the consequences of your actions. Instead of reacting, smile, because if they are throwing their fist at you, this means they have seen you! If their actions were dangerous take their number plate and lodge a complaint.

* Stick to the road rules and do not deviate from them. It is all too easy to skip a red light, or be influenced by others doing so. But think of those watching. You never know if a child is watching you do this from a car or from the side of the road. Likewise what if you are riding in a bunch that does this, and you reinforce it, while a 13-year old rider is also on that bunch, and then does it while riding alone, and gets hit. Think of what you are implicitly teaching those around you. I was guilty of doing this until I was driving on Auckland’s Remuera road and on automatic pilot I stopped at a red light, looked to see if anything was coming and then continued through the red light in the trance of habit. Halfway across the intersection I woke up and realised I was not on my bike, but in my car! We have road rules for a reason. Don’t make deviations from them otherwise it instils unsafe habits. I am damn lucky nothing happened and I was given another chance to change my habit.

We cannot blame unskilful drivers and completely put all responsibility on them to make the road safer. We also need to take responsibility to create the environment that is safe for us by taking positive action.

“The idea that you’re too small or too powerless to create change is the biggest reason for inaction. And it’s probably the weakest excuse ever.”

- Jonathan Mead

You may not believe it is possible to change the culture of sharing the road, nor that you can do anything to make a difference, but you can. Think of Nelson Mandala, or Martin Luther King. One person can make an enormous difference. Each day, do something to make cycling safer for yourself, your friends, and your family, and slowly the culture of sharing the road will improve: one day at a time.

Amy Taylor - www.Ridetoyourpotential.com

Chastity Pike

I was going to write a long rambling diatribe about rudeness of riders to one another, especially that which Mikeal encountered a week or so ago, but I'll save that for another day. Whether this rudeness was due to that fact that he'd tossed a salad earlier I'm not sure, but it is a well observed issue with central Auckland riders.

Instead, I'll explain my absence from posting. Since my last missive, I have moved abode. The tribe and I up sticks and moved about five hundred metes north. It was an undertaking of some size and untold pain, especially when the less than gorilla like assistant, who I had conned into helping me transfer items from one house to the other, squashed my knuckle, not once, but twice, between hard, heavy furniture and sharp door jamb.

That little mishap aside, it all went reasonably painlessly. Admittedly the weekend prior to the move the use of a large trailer and an indiscriminate rubbish sorting process did boost Auckland's landfill a little. It also meant that several bulky items that my dearly beloved has hauled from house to house (actually storage to storage) finally were consigned to their rightful place. She doesn't know the magnitude of the cull, but I'm willing to engage in a policy of "Ignorance is bliss".

Not only has writing taken a back seat, but cycling has also. Thankfully I finally threw a leg over the stead on Sunday and gained some miles. I realised I'm not the rider I was a few weeks ago, and that there will be quite some pain to get back there.

But, like this post, and Sunday's ride signal, I'm back in the saddle. Lucky Pierre indeed.

The cur that bites

Enough is enough I say. So, while I suffer my way back to fitness after a weeks off the bike, and a bit of extra ballast gained from various celebrations, I dream of things to ride when I'm fitter. I have written of the following loop before, have posted photos of some of it's glories, but I have hidden it's true course, until now.

So, here it is, in all it's glory. Come April I will be riding this puppy. I'm hoping that between now and then there's a little precipitation to allow the loose metal to migrate from the surface. All going to plan I will be fit enough to go and pound around these roads and hills.

I haven't ridden them all, but I have driven them at various times and can imagine that it will be a tough day in the saddle with a variety of terrains, surfaces and possibly winds to make for a testing ride.

If anyone beats me to ride this loop as it is, good on you, but please let me know how much you enjoy it, and take some photos of your misery.

Without further delay, here it is:-

Northern Hell