Archive for the 'Uncategorized' Category

Ten questions we may never get answered

January 17, 2013

lance and oprah

1. Will you publicly acknowledge, for the sake of your own dignity and the wider sporting community, that triathlon isn’t actually a proper sport?

2. Can anyone actually pronounce “Madone” without having to Google it?

3. Black socks. Whose idea was that, sunshine?

4. You know back in the day, when David Letterman used to announce, “Ladies and gentlemen, the five-time winner of the Tour de France, Lance Armstrong!” and a fat kid wearing a yellow jersey would ride through the studio audience on a Trek while the band played a speeded-up version of Proud Mary? How long did you have to spend in makeup to pull that one off? And can you put one of those clips on YouTube? Man, I loved those skits. Great times.

5. You always surprised your rivals with an unexpected, audacious move that allowed you to gain the upper hand psychologically. When’s the cookbook coming out?

6. After all that’s happened, how can you expect any of us to believe that you were the first person to ride a bike on the moon? And without oxygen? Seriously WTF?

7. Do you know that when Festinagirl daydreams about frenching Bertie, she opens her eyes mid-snog and sees your face?

8. Honey Stingers – you could call ’em Bee PO! Hahahaha! Just putting that one out there, buddy.

9. Contrary to what’s been reported, can you confirm the only performance-enhancing rugs are on either side of Bradley Wiggins’ face?

10. Doping isn’t a victimless crime. Because of what you’ve done, thousands of us in the UK will ingest massive levels of caffeine to watch this ruddy interview at two o’clock in the morning. HOW DOES THAT MAKE YOU FEEL, YOU MONSTER?

Off for a bit

December 25, 2012

I’m off to do nothing in particular except eat lots of food and lark around with Jen. I’m grateful to everyone who has visited this blog over the past year, so have a good one, and I’ll see you back here in the New Year. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with a brief account of what will probably be my last long ride of 2012: the London Dynamo Christmas jaunt, which took place last Thursday.

About two dozen of us met at Dish café in Hampton Court. We split into groups of eight and rode to Windsor and back. The sky was dark for most of the journey and it was raining constantly. A couple of ’Mos were dressed head-to-toe in commuter-type waterproofs. One brave chap wore shorts. All of us got soaked through. Thankfully, I had the foresight to drop off a bag at my chum Paul Callinan’s house prior to setting off for Dish, so I was able to get changed into dry clothes before heading to The Albert pub on Kingston Hill for post-ride canapés and drinks. The picture below, which I took at the pub, appears to show a well-oiled Nigel Smith (he’s furthest away, by the TV) and Paul Harknett comparing the size of something. Perhaps it was the length of time they had each spent on the Dynamo committee.

Nigel Smith and Paul Harknett at The Albert

The Christmas ride, which is an annual fixture in the Dynamo calendar, is my favourite club event. No one really does it because they need the training; if you come, it’s for the sheer pleasure of riding your bike and being with like-minded people. It’s club riding in its purest and most essential form, and that’s why I’ll be back next Christmas for more.

The champion cyclist who made a pretty good record

December 24, 2012

You may have read Inner Ring’s piece on Bernard Hinault making, or at least lending his name to, a naff disco track released in 1980. It reminded me that there is another champion racing cyclist who made a record almost as obscure as Hinault’s, although it’s in an entirely different league.

24 Years Of Hunger is an album by a duo called Eg and Alice. Eg is Eg White, who went on to win an Ivor Novello award and write Chasing Pavements for Adele. Alice is Alice Temple, who became the first female to win the British and European BMX championships before becoming a singer. She sang on the track Bloodstain from Psyence Fiction, the first UNKLE album, and was also a model.

Released in 1991, 24 Years Of Hunger was the only album they made together. I was mildly obsessed by these songs back then and they’ve never let me down whenever I’ve revisited them. The album’s sound contains elements of Prince at his sparsest and most percussive, while Alice’s voice sounds vulnerable yet defiant. It has a very London feel, evoking a weariness beneath its poise, and there’s a truthfulness to these songs which I’ve not heard anywhere else.

The album has never been re-released on any format, which is why I’ve seen second-hand copies sell for up to £60 on Amazon. YouTube has the video for the first single Doesn’t Mean That Much To Me, although the clip has been taped off The Chart Show and only contains three-quarters of the song. But if you look closely, you might spot Alice and Eg riding bicycles.

I’ve never really followed BMX so I don’t know anything about Alice Temple’s brief cycling career, and I’ve no idea what she’s up to now. I don’t really need to know any more, though, because 24 Years says so much about her. That’s how good it is.

Who has signed the Change Cycling Now petition?

December 14, 2012

Have you signed up to bring about important changes to professional bike racing? These people have:

Chlamydia Horsefellow
Dusky Butterfinch
Henry Peacocks-Newways
Ronny Sausages
Steena Faafalaah
Spurious MC
Frankie Trimmings
Disco Fever
The Late Stafford Cripps MP
Yeh Youheardme

The Change Cycling Now website doesn’t ask for an email address. Any idiot can sign up using a load of daft names. So that’s exactly what I did.

Change you can't believe in

Change you can’t believe in

And Change Cycling’s petition attracted hundreds of signatures before the group had held its much-trumpeted summit to decide on its goals. So apart from the demand for independent anti-doping, those initial signatories wouldn’t have known exactly what they were signing up for.

Founded on vague goals and a magnet for fictitious names – this petition is looking a bit half-cocked, isn’t it? But at least the fella running the show knows what he’s doing. Well, I’d like to think so, although it’s possible that Jaimie Fuller didn’t quite understand I was being ironic when he retweeted me.

Stating the Blinder-ingly obvious

December 7, 2012

Knog Blinders

You’re a young company. You’ve designed a pair of bicycle lights. They’re great little units – bright, light, sturdy, and fastened by closing a neat metal clasp around a rubber strap. They’re also affordable. Best of all, you can recharge them by sticking them in a USB port. No more batteries!

So you get the first batch back from the factory, plug them into the back of your computer and… oh dear.

Knog Blinders not attached

You suddenly discover you can’t recharge them both simultaneously. The connectors are stubby and the lights are too big to fit closely together. Why didn’t you notice this sooner?

Obviously I’m speculating on the design process. Maybe the chaps at Knog knew from the moment they put pencil to paper that the Blinder 4s wouldn’t plug in straight out of the box. Perhaps they reckoned I would figure out I needed a couple of USB extension cables for recharging. But it’s reasonable for customers to assume they could just plug them both in, so it’s irksome that you can’t.

The reviews I’ve subsequently come across on blogs (Urban Velo, Pedal Consumption, Bike Soup and FLO Cycling) haven’t mentioned this obvious consequence of the lights’ design. This is because Knog appear to have sent reviewers only one light instead of two. A crafty move?

Ben Folds in five minutes

December 4, 2012

It’s Littlejen’s birthday today. Happy birthday, small lady! To celebrate, we’re going to see Ben Folds Five at the Brixton Academy tonight. Before that, though, here is a brief, five-minute post on the great man.

Some think of Ben as either a late ’90s indie-pop merchant or a piano balladeer. Each is a valid, if partial, view. I think it’s truer to say that he’s from the same unique strain of American music that has produced Sparks, Todd Rundgren and Randy Newman – idiosyncratic, sometimes downright wayward, but always intensely melodic and musically literate. His songs are often good stories, too.

At this point I, as a fan, should ask you to listen to a track in an attempt to win over the doubters and the curious. Instead, I would ask you not to listen too closely to the following song itself, but the audience’s reactions to it.

One Down is about writing songs to a schedule: one down, only 3.6 to go before he fulfills the quota set down by his publisher. It’s a fairly obscure track, and most of the audience would probably be hearing it for the first time. But they react in all the right places: laughing at the self-deprecation and absurdity of the situation described in the song, silent for the romantic interlude in the middle eight then applauding at the end of it, surprised and delighted by its incongruity.

Judges on TV singing competitions have popularised the phrase “connecting with your audience”, which sometimes is simply code for performing in a way that keeps a crowd from getting bored. On One Down, a genuine emotional connection takes place, and you can actually hear it happening. I think that makes it an extraordinary recording, and qualifies Ben as one of the world’s great songwriters. And who knows – we might even get a moment as unique as this one tonight…

A short history of Strava

November 30, 2012

Everybody loves Strava

January 14, 1820: Baron Nicolas de Strava completes a single lap of the Jardin du Luxembourg on a solid gold velocipede. His exhausted footman, instructed to run behind his employer bearing a pocket watch placed upon on a velvet cushion, etches the baron’s time of 5hr 14 min, along with a rudimentary sketch of the route, into a nearby pear tree. Soon, every French nobleman is engraving their “Stravas” in the grounds of their palaces. A phenomenon is born.

December 31, 1999: With participation in time trials dwindling and a new century about to begin, a secret convocation of pointy-hatters takes place in Aigle, Switzerland to discuss how more cyclists can be recruited to the clandestine discipline of the tri-spoke. America’s representative, a certain Roger d’Strava, inspires the assembled throng by telling the story of his great-great-great grandfather’s historic act of penis-waving. What if, he posits, we could adapt rudimentary bike computers so that every ride becomes a time trial? Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room is electric. The future has arrived.

Today: It would take many years of technological advancement, but d’Strava’s giddy vision has finally been fulfilled, and it is a testament to the universal popularity of Strava that none of us tire of hearing its users recounting their King of the Hill exploits on Twitter, Facebook and down the pub. Non-cyclists have even replicated the thrill of Strava by downloading racing games onto their phones and playing them outside, often in the pissing rain, for up to five hours at a time while sporadically shouting their high scores at passing strangers. Truly, we live in the age of Strava.

The rules of The Rules

November 16, 2012

Against The Rules

1. To follow The Rules, you must resolutely ignore the obvious truth: it is not your duty to follow anyone’s arbitrary rules. If it were, you would never ride a bicycle in the first place. You would be a gym slave, or a couch potato, or a golf nut.

2. But if you want to be treated like a golfer, then you’ll fully embrace the second rule of The Rules: cycling is one big clubhouse and, as such, there must be a dress code, or chaos shall reign. Sock length, correct usage of caps and the positioning of eyewear – these things are the equivalent of designating which ties are acceptable in the bar area. And by obsessing over sartorial details, you’re attempting to obviate the most marvelous aspect of cyclists’ appearance: their inherent, proud, glorious daftness. What other pastime would allow you to routinely adopt the aesthetic of a superhero (Zabriskie), a mod (Wiggins), a human-sized sex toy (Cipo) or a tweedy fop, all without violent repercussions? Ridicule, to paraphrase a wiser man than myself, truly is nothing to be scared of in the realm of the bicycle.

3. Another man who is also much wiser than me recently opined: “Lists move in when love moves out.” And so it is with The Rules. For its adherents, the pure joy of riding has dissolved to such an extent that you need a rule to remind yourself of that long-forgotten pleasure (it’s entry number six, if you’re looking to somehow reclaim that feeling). You have become a librarian of the soul, observing an empty superstition that cultivating the correct tan lines or avoiding frame-mounted pumps will somehow make things better. It won’t. The magic is over. The romance has gone. But hey – there’s always golf, fellas!

4. If you need to go on the internet to learn the guidelines for courteous, safe cycling, then you don’t ride with a club. You are alone. Of all the rules of The Rules, this one is the most tragic.

5. Alpha males do not need to read a list telling them it is vitally important to own bicycles more expensive than their car, or that they’re a “badass” for riding in inclement weather. They do these sorts of things instinctively, because alpha males are creatures of action, biologically programmed to thump their chests. Of all the rules of The Rules, this is the most comedic: you will never be an alpha male, but you must try your absolute hardest to be a facsimile of one. Even though the real silverbacks are genetically predisposed to not give a toss about you.

6. Similarly, you may not be a sexist berk, but the rules of The Rules demand that you snigger at a story about Sean Kelly valuing his wife less than his car or his bike, even though he may not have said the words attributed to him in rule 11. Oh, and there’s beer. Apparently beer is a key component of your identity as a man. True, there is also an admirable rule advising men not to get all antsy if they are overtaken by a woman. But only two mentions of female cyclists among 91 entries? We’re back in the metaphorical clubhouse again!

7. “Hey,” the Ruleistas might say, “lighten up, dude! The Rules are funny!” A sensible response is to direct them to the photograph at the top of this post. Seriously, is anything in The Rules as funny as that guy breaking them? And if you can’t be funnier than the thing you’re mocking then, surely, you have failed.

Can we sign two petitions? Yes we can

November 9, 2012

“The bucks stop somewhere around here, Hillary!” I imagine this is what Obama might be saying if this was actually Richmond Park.

As a British person, you may have felt left out as you watched our American chums preparing to choose their president. And now they’ve made the right choice, perhaps you’re wondering how, in your own small British way, you too can make a difference. Well, fear not! For I have found a couple of petitions with which you can express your idealism, good nature and sound judgment.

The first petition aims to increase cycling access in Richmond Park by excluding motor vehicles from the seven-mile loop on Sundays. The giddy dream is that the proposal will be debated in parliament if it gets enough signatures.

At first, I thought the concept isn’t a bad idea. Cyclists who don’t yet feel confident riding among cars would get their own mini-Sky Ride every weekend. Then I posted a link to the petition on the London Dynamo forum, and now I think it’s a great idea. Because, perversely, it seems my cycling club – one of the largest in the country – is not keen on this particular plan to promote bike riding. And if there is one defining hallmark of a great idea it is the mood of fearfulness with which it is greeted.

You can’t read the thread I started unless you’re a member, so I will try give a fair précis of the objections and provide my counter-arguments. The main fear is that with lots of beginners and children pootling along at 10mph, more serious cyclists such as myself wouldn’t be able to use the park for training rides on Sundays. Well, I’m fine with that. Dynamo’s group ride in the park is on Saturdays; everyone heads for the hills of Surrey on Sunday. Under this proposal, less experienced riders would get to enjoy the park for one day a week, ’Mos and other club cyclists would get the other six, and maybe at some point a few of those beginners would gain the confidence to ride with us. We all win!

Another objection is that it fixes a non-existent problem: you can still use the park early in the morning when there is almost no traffic. I would suggest the almost total absence of pootlers at that time of the morning shows this is a lousy option that has, in effect, already been rejected. If I had kids, I wouldn’t relish waking the family up at the crack of dawn and getting to the park to ride for a measly hour or less before the cars showed up. The other alternative is sticking to cycling on the straight strip of car-free tarmac bisecting the loop, which is an excellent plan if you want to be bored out of your mind. You’ll never get more people cycling if you make the activity seem unappealing.

Some Dynamo members appear to be thinking of other people’s concerns. What about the residents surrounding the park? Surely they won’t like golfers parking on their doorstep to use the park’s course, and they’ll be miffed at the increase in traffic on the roads in their neighbourhood. Also, if fewer people visit the park, then there will be an economic impact on the cafes within its grounds. But then there is no guarantee any of these eventualities will occur. Sunday golfers may have a round on Saturday instead. Roads surrounding the park do not become insurmountably clogged when it is closed for deer culling. The custom of hungry cyclists in cafes could replace that of motorists.

There was one alternative suggestion to car-free Sundays: a congestion charge, levied in the park throughout the week. I suppose this ambitious plan could reduce the traffic, although it can’t weed out the worst drivers, which is what really puts people off riding. So it’s only a partial solution.

Basically, it comes down to this: I would like less confident riders to experience of the same simple pleasures I have enjoyed in the park over the years – things like the big, long descent or the nonplussed deer watching you on the small climb to Richmond Gate. So if you think this a reasonable and commendable aim, then please add your name to the list.

The second petition I signed aims to reinstate Danny Baker’s weekday afternoon radio show on BBC London 94.9. You’ve probably heard what happened to the Candyman after coverage of his magnificently funny and defiant two-hour swansong last Thursday made just about every news outlet you care to mention, including the front page of The Times.

And yes, regular dwellers of this blog will have already noticed me gabbing on and on about how much pleasure Danny’s show has provided. Nestled amid the phone-in topics and chats with his co-hosts Baylen, Amy and the inimitable David Kuo was a central idea: that the kinks, quirks and fleeting moments of oddness in popular culture and people’s everyday existence are what gives these things life. So if you value originality and good humour – which, of course, you must surely do – then sign now. If you do, I promise to stop gibbering on about how much I love Danny Baker. You can’t say fairer than that.

Cycling confessions

November 2, 2012

What every cyclist needs: a confession booth

Currently, the mood in cycling is one of revelation: I took drugs, I was on the books of a notorious Spanish doctor, I couldn’t help noticing Lance thought Bobby Julich was a bit dull. That sort of thing. But it’s not just the pros who have had something to hide. I, too, have harboured dreadful secrets. And now, pausing only to offer sincere apologies to those I may have hurt by not speaking out sooner, I shall now unburden myself of the guilt that has wracked my conscience. In return, I ask you to find the compassion in your hearts to forgive me for breaking some of cycling’s strictest edicts…

I do not drink coffee. There – I’ve said it. Drinking coffee makes me more tired by the end of the day, and I don’t miss the hit or the taste. More importantly, I came to realise why coffee lovers talk about which brands they prefer without usually discussing the differences: it’s because all types of bean juice taste roughly the same. Seriously, they do. Starbucks and your favourite independent coffee house both leave, quite literally, a bitter taste in your mouth. It’s just a slightly different bitterness. So have a tea instead, guys! Any tea! Black tea, green tea, fruit teas – there’s a lot more variety. And greater variety means more opportunities to indulge in cyclists’ favourite pastime: arbitrary snobbery. You can’t lose!

I have never looked at a carbon Colnago with envy. They look fine. Perfectly fine. Not beautiful, stunning, amazing, awesome, just… OK. Like a nice fitted kitchen or a sensible hat. To me, they appear to be just another assemblage of carbon tubes, but without the futuristic wowness of, say, a Felt, or the old-school romanticism of a hand-built steel frame. They’re sit somewhere in between. With an Italian name. Total whatevvs.

I don’t want to ride the Etape. One of my favourite pieces of cycling-related prose is Bill Strickland’s pithy, insightful and funny article on the Etape du Tour, which appeared in Rouleur’s 2008 photo annual. Bill evokes the event as a kind of living trance, where the landscape and your fellow riders recede from your immediate perception, thereby provoking a reckoning with yourself. And I can relate to that; I’m just pretty sure I don’t want or need that experience from a sportive. I think sportives should be pleasant jaunts around unfamiliar locales, and the Etape always looks far too over-populated and bloody serious to provide that sort of ride. Also, for me, riding a stage from the actual Tour de France without the speed or ability of a pro would be like running around Wembley Stadium while pretending to kick an invisible football. For these reasons, I am never going to ride the Etape.

I’m not that bothered either way about disc brakes or electronic shifting. I think I’m supposed to feel strongly one way or the other, aren’t I? I just can’t muster the effort, fellas. I’m sorry. Look, if the industry wants it to happen, it will happen. One set of aesthetic values will shift to accommodate another. And if you’re a diehard fan of rim braking or analogue gears, then you’ll probably be able to stick with them. Bicycles will still be able to start and stop. Them wheels will keep on turning. Let’s all have a group hug and try not to fight about it, OK?