Tuesday mtb.

A nice couple of hours around the Downs. Surprisingly mud free.

Rubbish bike shed recognised as one of the most secure ever

A shed made from reclaimed landfill materials has been recognised by the police as one of the most secure bike sheds ever.

Rapha - Cent Cols Challenge

Cobbles



At 5am one Saturday morning I was stood, leaning against my bike with a holdall next to my feet watching my breath rise up into the lights on the garage forecourt whilst I waited for my lift. After a short conversation with the garage attendant about why I was stood on his forecourt with a racing bike in jeans at 5am Mark’s car rolled into sight.

5 minutes later the bikes were loaded and we headed for the channel tunnel to catch the first train of the day. Mark was his usual upbeat self (I never know how he manages it at this time of day) and full of excitement about our planned excursion. I on the other hand was slumped in the passenger seat and trying my best not to turn into Harry Enfield’s Kevin. A second round of coffee at the terminal in Folkestone helped to cure my teenage angst and conversation went back to how best to tackle the cobbled sections of Pave that were our objective for the day.  

Tickets for Paris-Roubaix 2014 were due to go on sale in 2 weeks time so we had planned a reconnaissance mission to ride some Pave before committing to the full on sportive experience.  (OK - 50km of tricky cobbles, but between the sections there would be 120km of relaxing riding to enjoy the famed wind and drizzle of le Nord).

 

Reconnaissance meant the usual 4am alarm that has become the hallmark of these rides.  We had planned a route that would give us a good taste of what we would face next April and still leave time to be home for tea and medals.

By 10am local time we were in the quiet French town of Saint-Armand-Les-Eaux a few kilometres south of Roubaix and Lille. We parked up in the centre of the town square and looked for a place to change into our lycra. The public toilets showed the signs of some imaginative use by the local teenagers and winos.  Instead we opted for a nice bistro with locals, espresso and air freshener in the toilets

Bikes ready, lycra donned and Garmin loaded we hit the road full of a mix of anticipation, excitement and if I’m honest, fear. Winding through the small villages and out into the woods we ticked along at a decent pace, enjoying the pan flat and deserted smooth roads. As we entered the woods a large dark shape appeared at the side of the road before shooting out in front of Mark. A wild boar, one the Arenberg residents, had come out to cheers us on.

Five minutes later we had come to our first section of the 9 we planned to do. The full fat, 5 star main attraction that is the Trouee D’Arenberg. This was it; we were going in at the deep end. The gate which will be open on the day of the event was closed so we had to slink through the pedestrian gap and build up speed on the mud by the side before hopping onto the cobbles. Easy…..

I had always thought that riding through Chilworth and Albury was the roughest piece of road I was likely to ride on. This was a different ball game all together. Remembering what we’d read and been told we dropped down the cassette into a low gear and pushed a low cadence as hard as we could. The handlebars were jumping around like a pneumatic drill as the world outside of this ancient strip of road ceased to exist.

After the assault of the Arenberg the tarmac felt like heaven, we could go back to our smooth pedal strokes and higher cadence. We compared notes as we spun along the country lanes headed for our next section. We were both relieved that neither had punctured or crashed and the main thing that we had learnt was that the hardest part was maintaining speed. Unlike Guildford High Street, these cobbles meant business and would rob you of any momentum soon as look at you.

 

Now feeling like we were Boonen and Cancellara, we rode through and off to each section. As our confidence grew we became more relaxed on the cobbles but out bodies struggled that little bit more each time. By the time we had done the last section my hands were shaken to their wits end and I was so tired I felt we’d ridden 120km not 60km. As we spun back to Saint-Armand-Les-Eaux or SALE as we had taken to calling it, we talked about what we could do make the event less barbaric on our senses next year, and more importantly, what to have for lunch.

Back at the square we loaded up the bikes, changed back into our “civvies” and looked for lunch. A quaint French restaurant with an owner that spoke no English was the order of the day and when we tried to order a steak she presented us with steak tartare. We were too hungry to argue with her so we duly inhaled it and washed it down with a swift half of Belgian beer (not Mark as he was on driving duty).

With full bellies, tired legs and  salt crusted eyebrows we hopped in the car and headed back to blighty. Two weeks later we paid for our tickets and now we have 11 weeks left to ready both body and machine for the carnage that awaits on April 12^th.

If you would like to come along on our next trip either home or abroad email at danieljameswallace@gmail.com

Dartmoor Ride

Dartmoor Ride

 

Every month Cyclist magazine runs a feature on rides in Britain. Inspired by one in particular, Mark and I set off last November to try one out before the winter weather set in.

4am on a Saturday morning in November is a cold, wet and dark place. The first hurdle was dragging my sorry self out of a warm bed and into the shower. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?” my brain kept asking as I tried to keep my eyes open under the hot water.

Stepping out into the cold morning drizzle woke me up and it wasn’t long before the bike was on the back of the car, the heating was on full pelt trying to de-mist the windscreen and I was off to pick Mark up from Hampton for our agreed 5am Grand Depart.

Mark was full of his usual upbeat energy and literally fizzing like an exciting child at the prospect of the day ahead. This, and the rather large breakfast hamper he’d brought with him was well received and made the 3 hour blast down the motorway go by in a flash.

The weather on the way down had been teasing us, mist, drizzle, fog and torrential downpours had all featured and the iPhone weather app couldn’t make its mind either. Arriving in Moretonhampstead at 8am we felt quite optimistic as the rains seemed to have cleared and the stiff breeze looked like it was going to bring clear weather with it.

After an initial short sharp 20% climb to get the blood moving we headed south along a rolling road which was predominantly downhill, save for a bit a of surface water we were staying pretty dry and the pace was quick and engaging. At the top of a little climb we pulled up at the side of the road to stow our rain capes and took the only picture of the day.

Soon we were climbing up the first big climb of the day up to Hay Tor Rocks which had just recently featured in the Tour of Britain stage. Evidence was still painted all over the road with “Go Wiggo” and “Cav, Cav, Cav” passing under us as we grinded to the top into the ever strengthening headwind. Once on top of the moor it was hard grind into the wind all the way along the top until we dived into the next valley.

I’m not the best at descending; in fact if I were a little skinnier I could pass for the third Schleck brother, the lesser Schleck if you will. Throw in the rain that had started and I was looking more uncomfortable than Wiggins on a wet mountain and Mark was bombing off into the distance.

Once the gradient eased a little I could catch Mark up and we carried on deeper into the moor. As we continued the weather got worse and worse. Ramps of 20 and 25 percent were becoming an increasing feature of the ride and in some cases we had to ride through streams to get to the roads we wanted.

By the time the prison just outside Princetown came into view we were soaked through, cold and hungry. Thankfully the Fox Tor Café was less than 2 miles away and it wasn’t long before we were sat by the wood burning stove enjoying coffee and bacon sandwiches. We let out kit dry on the back of the chairs whilst we chatted to local riders who offered us advice on the next part of our route.

Setting off for the second leg with bellies full and spirits replenished we had a spring in our pedal stroke knowing that we had completed more than half of the loop and the weather looked like it might be kinder to us.

After swooping through great swathes of orange, brown, gold and amber woodland we soon found ourselves on the far side of the day’s course at the foot of the day’s biggest climb, Pork Hill. As we climbed higher and higher our rhythm was constantly interrupted by the need to look back at view which go t better and better as we climbed higher and higher. For the last 20km we were on the north side of the moor and here we really kicked on to the finish.

This part of the moor was really open, barren and beautiful, the road was quieter than it had been all day and we were soon flying down long fast descents, zipping over cattle grids and getting our knees out on the corners. Moretonhampstead was on us before we knew it and with a wave to the locals we’d seen earlier in the day we pulled into the car park with grins on our face running from ear to ear.

As it was only 3:30pm we had plenty of time to get home before tea, but more importantly we had proved to ourselves that a trip like this was feasible and it has opened the door to whole load of other rides that now seem possible.

 

For 2014 we have lots of others planned and the first is going to be a Brecon Beacons Ride. If you would like to join us on any of these please email me and I will let you know when we have confirmed dates. 

Dan danieljameswallace@gmail.com

Cycling's longstanding, predictable and troubling relationship with depression

This was in today's Guardian and made for interesting reading.

Despite their wealth and fame, it is hardly surprising that professional cyclists have struggled with depression – especially if the damaging effects of doping are added to the mix.

A's to Seale via flooded lanes

I bumped into my brother Phil at Cobham car park before Saturdays club ride. I almost didn't recoignise him as he turned up wearing a club jersey. He must have read that e-mail I sent out the other week giving some pointers on looking like a respectable club member. He's got proper mudguards on too. He was joining the 3hr Uppers and Downers group so no need for bike lights for him just yet.

Alan and Philip Parkinson

The river Mole that runs through Cobham was the highest I'd ever seen it and the road out of town was 4 inches under water ans Plough lane was a no go area.

Flooded Cobham

A group routemaster Trevor

Trevor had planned a lovely route out past Woking and through aldershot in into some quiet Hampshire lanes. At one point the heavens opened and we all got a bit wet, even though most of us had capes and mudguards. I had ridden 95km/ 60mile before we reached our lunch stop which was at Seale. There are some real nice ladies here who serve the tea and cakes. On the way round I had lost my seat pack with tube, tool and tyre levers so I popped next door to WyndyMilla shop and bought a spare tube for a mere £7.

Only riders in club kit made the line up at the cafe

Dave stripping off ready to go for a swim.

We did eventually get back towards the flooded lanes around Woking and Cobham but only after a few double backs to avoid some deep flooded roads.

Water world

Our Sunday ride was with an Italian friend, who we met at Cobham and went for a ride along the river. We met Paul, julie and Kevin Costner for a coffee at Hampton Court.

Sky-high snaps show scale of Thames flooding in Surrey

Link.  Apparently Cobham and Downside both closed again today. Also back roads around Horsleys flooded.

Why are bicycle forks set at an angle?

Well stone me, that's quite interesting, now you know.

SRAM $10-15m recall

Oops and a bit of an ouch, that's an awful lot of lost margin to make up.

Tuesday mtb

A nice day of blue skies and only a bit splashy.

Smiffy

Lol a pic of Gary on the wall at Evan's The Cut, looking like one of the Bash Street Kids. Dated around 1960. Soooo cool :)

Danny MacAskill secret footage released

Bonkers!

Two thirds of lorries stopped by police are driven illegally or lack basic safety features

These are alarming stats.  One wonders what the operators and drivers are doing.  Maybe each is assuming the other is taking responsibility for safety checking the vehicles. And to confuse matters, it probably won't be consistent from company to company.  And if a driver refuses to drive a dodgy vehicle then he probably doesn't get paid and there'll be a long line of others who will be happy to take it for a spin.

C Group Richmond Park 5th Jan 14

Four C group riders joined John (Biggles) Morris for a few circuits (or was it just one circuit ?) of Richmond Park. John was keen to get the miles in and had spotted a break in the turbulent weather on Sunday morning and via emails suggested a meet up point by the tea van at Pen Ponds car park, 10ish. Since I live about 15 mins ride from this meet up point (half that time if fit) there could be no excuses not to join them and share a tea and chat about floods, how unfit we are, falling off bicycles, and how we are going to get much fitter this year. The World and his Wife were all in the Park – very busy with joggers, Nordic skiers, prams, dog walkers and their wandering pets and a large array of cyclist of varying skills and fitness levels. However the roads were well drained, free of ice and the sun made an appearance. It was good to be out on the bike again and meet up with the C group. Richard Post

Ice and floods ride

Weybridge to Hambleden lock - after a beautiful dawn, some fun and games dodging roadside slush puppies and deep water traverses.

Shorts!!

Very warm for the last day's ride :)

More crazy speed merchants

Tonight's London news

Bmx

On today's ride we discovered a bmx play area near the velodrome in Can Coix. The have a huge container of sponge to practice jumping, back flips and other bonkers tricks.

New Year's Day ride.

Chasing the sun with Natalia and Ernesto.