Crossover...

There's just something about supermoto (or supermotard if you're French) that really works for me. The mixture of big capacity offroad machine with semi slick road tyres, giving it berries on both surfaces, magic. Thibaud Poulain's edit's are perfect examples of this an make me pretty envious of the kit and skill on show.

Mix of offroad/road machinery on a bit of both surfaces... sounds a bit like cyclocross. Maybe, maybe not.

On a bicycle front I'm pysched the focus (even if a while away) is turning to cyclocross. The tour of Belgium was a case in point as I managed to catch a few minutes of internet viewing on Saturday. The breakaway was a who's who of Belgian cross, inspirational stuff. CX mag has a better write up than I can manage but good to see the young guns firing as they'll be the ones to watch in the coming years. Good to see Stybar making the transition to road racing too - something more about Stybar in a future post and picture.

Oh yeah, Roland Desmet's photos have gone up another level with images from both the tour of Belgium and Espoirs Paris-Roubaix. Definitely a feast for the greedy Belgian cycling consumer.

What's goin on...

So while the world is sidetracked by skinny bloke in pink going up hills fast and another skinny bloke who used to go up hills fast and their common thread of stuff they've never taken maybe take a minute and have a look Roland Desmet's blog and photos.

Be it comedy podium gurning, flying bikes or Stybar sprinting for the win it's all there in a very unassuming but expansive volume of Belgian pro continental cycling.

vibe...

Beautifully filmed.

Two wheels and the open road.

Motorbike or bicycle.

It's very much the same vibe.

See more at Riding September.

Fuelling the Fire...

A preseason increase in training intensity won't get far without an increase in fuelling. And what's the most important meal? Breakfast, my friends!

Seriously, last year I ate toast prior to racing and was timely visited by the man with the hammer. It was a blip in my general breakfast health, as my normal regime revolves around oat based cereal. Namely Muesli.

Muesli you ask? Well let's have a look.

Muesli was invented around 1900 by Maximilian Birchner-Benner a Swiss physician. Comprising of uncooked rolled oats, nuts and fruit. It can be either dry or fresh and great fuel for riding, but you probably knew that already.
What I didn't know was it was originally called 'd'Spys' (German Swiss for 'the dish') and whilst I eat it with milk and I get the concept of it being eaten with yoghurt, I gather it can be mixed with hot chocolate or coffee (latte rather than double espresso). You probably eat it that way already.

The thing is I don't and in an attempt to challenge my conservative British palette I will endeavour to savour the delights of a bowl of d'Spys mixed with the finest coffee I can find in the hidden depths of my fridge (I'm sure there's a sealed tin of Illy somewhere in there).

I might do a review once I've sampled it.

If it's a favourable review I might try to ride after sampling it.

The photo? Tasty nuts? A parts bin from the Brooks Bicycle Saddle factory. I have a few more Lucky Charms from this place that will be gracing these pages in time to come.

With a voracious appetite for blog based bicycle reading, I've been battling the inner demon which has had me sitting back and soaking it all up without reciprocating and putting some effort (and content) back into it.

I've thoroughly enjoyed Ryan and Whit's coverage of Le Tour. I've given up on any pretension to write with flair and poise, I'll leave it to these guys (I'll stick to scribbling). On the flip side Cylingnews has just about had it with me, they may as well remove news from the title, or was that part of the redesign strategy?

I love this post by Molly Cameron. I empathise with his preseason wobble concerning the effort he's putting in as the outcome is, as yet unknown. I'm feeling the same although my training effort is inversely proportionate to his. The complexities of life transpire to make my recent training hours short (mmm, that's very short) whilst relatively intense. I'll race well this coming season, if they shorten races to 15 minutes.

The British weather has also transpired to rain on our parade. Literally. Non-stop.

Time off the bike isn't all bad thought. Late June we landscaped the garden. 10 days, glorious sunshine, early mornings and late finishes. I lost 6 pounds without trying, forget calorie counting and restrictive eating...go garden. I wonder if Wiggins used this method as his weigh loss strategy.

Advertising dollars spent sponsoring cyclists work. One week I'm looking at this thumbs up, the next week I'm inspired to buy gabions by said company to install in the garden. The fact they were bang on price, easy to build and close by made no difference...Honest.

Anyway, time to get drawing...and riding.

More Questions than Answers...

So where have all the mountaintop finishes gone?

The chance for the baying crowd to snare a rider with a musette. Crouching too long whilst catching the once in a lifetime photo - to be part of the once in a lifetime rider crash, beamed to the four corners of the world highlighting your lifetime of idiocy.

Denied.

But more importantly, what becomes of the humble promo sunhat?

Given away in their thousands to grace the vein bulging foreheads of sunburned (ironic isn't it), drunken cycling fans. The simple sunhat maintains it's steely understated grip on the world of advertising head wear and surely has been with us through the ages of road racing.

Think I'm making it all up - here's photo evidence via the Rapha blog, with more to be found here.

Yet who's taken any notice?

What happened to all the hat's given away through the ages?

Are there collectors of historic versions?

Do they exchange hands via a sunhat blackmarket, frequented by men in trenchcoats, sunglasses, strange handshakes and suitcases of money?

Is there a café somewhere with them framed and plastered to the wall?

Does a museum exist?

Can we visit it?

A Sheep's Tale...

Saturday gone I had an invite to ride part of the "Ronde van oost Lancashire" with Alan Dorrington. I was the sheep and Alan would be my shepherd for the day. I would spend the whole ride completely lost. A fresh perspective.

He didn't know me, I didn't know him. How would it go?

I arrived and was met on the doorstep - I expected him to be pixelated. He wasn't.

He expected me to be a cartoon with wobbly legs. I wasn't.

It's funny but I had no apprehension about turning up and riding. We all probably get a sense of personality from our writing so I didn't feel totally in the dark. It was also refreshing to meet new people and see new places, I was excited about the prospect. A micro road trip for me.

We rode and talked and talked and rode. We have some interesting times ahead - keep watching our spaces, they could be your spaces.

The "RVOL" goes up - alot. Some of the climbs, while not Alpine are brutal. The cobble sections range from brutish to joyous. I even felt like a semblance of float over one section. I just need more revs.

The streets of Colne reminded me of the working/mining areas of Roubaix. The streets were paved with cobbled gold though. We were told our tyres would "pop" by a small boy in the middle of the road.

On the descent (I call it 'the' as I only remember going downhill once) we saw a sheep's tail. The tail was in the middle of the road unattached to a sheep. I thought about going back to get it but we were going uphill again. I couldn't stop.

We continued to talk and ride. Alan talked going uphill, I tried to talk going uphill.

We rode for around 3 hours - I forgot to set my trip but my heartrate read 190 max. I should be dead.

After our ride I now had wobbly legs and laughed as much as a cartoon.

Post ride we ate some great food and had some more great conversation - interspersed with a four year olds view of the world, which wasn't far off from my own.

Alan's a bad man. He took me to his cellar to see his Uncle John (he has a XL) and collection of rubber. Alan now blogs from his cellar as I took all his rubber and Uncle John. Now I'm a bad man. No Serious... Alan has a great tub collection (of the cross variety). I'd like to see them framed in an art gallery, white space and all that. No scratch that, they should be ridden to destruction on Belgium soil.

So to summarize (as they taught you in science class) a great day of riding, new friendships made and a healthy dose of respect for the East Lancashire landscape.

Inspirational.

Time Trial

Prologue.

Time trial.

Team time trial.

The Giro, now Dauphine start to be defined by the time separation between contenders achieved by the race against the clock.

It's a race that consumes our everyday life. I've had a couple of conversations and read this (great pictures too) concerning our ever dwindling attention spans and the pressure we have to rush from one daily or work task to the next. It's impact cannot be underestimated, down the smallest of margins, in our daily task's: minutes, in the time trialist's journey: seconds (or fractions of).

We shuffle our agenda's, rush from work to home, surge to change and manage to get through the door to hopefully relax on the bike.

We then proceed to ride tempo to beat our last average and return home as quickly as we can.

Ironic.

Insania

The bike sends you insane, it's true. I'm slowly losing my mind and it's all the bicycle's fault.

Just a couple of examples.

I'm out for a quick blast on one of my regular routes and as I near home I see a name plaque on a building that reads "Molly Cameron". I do a mental eyerubbing, read it again and realise it says "Holly Cottage". Where the heck did that come from? I think I need to drink more while I ride.

Not ten minutes ago, I'm doing a bit of research for some future posts (yep, I'm that sad/thorough/bizarre). I'm flicking from site to site and read a sub head "The Road is the most Important". I'm hooked. Is it some epic tale of merciless road riding or racing. Erm no... A film about an average streets clothes washing habits... Sorry made that up, I clicked on when I realised it wasn't about the bike, never reading past the headline.

Finally I'm sitting here with a tweaked left calf (from pushing the motobike in the garage - that ridiculous) fretting that I won't be able to put a decent ride in this weekend. When I don't even need to.

The bike's sending me insane. Good though isn't it.

Degrees of Endeavor

This post was going to be a deep thinking, somewhat personal look at the concept of suffering and resultant glory found at the end of the wheel and road combined ordeal. The only trouble is I can't consolidate my thoughts enough to contribute to the discussion. Not yet anyway.

This post was instigated as a response to this this piece by Crossjunkie.

Which is interesting that the next piece I read is this by The Everyday Athlete, which definitely has Heidi's perspective to hardship.

I then read this on Fyxomatosis, as a direct challenge to the theory that hard fought effort gives the greatest reward. Look at these people, riding cobble having a great time!

So I now have to go away and have a real good think about this. I have a feeling my theories will have Captain Scott in there somewhere.

To the post hungry amonst you I'm working on a couple more Roubaix bits, some Classics artwork and some Classics bits and bobs, now the Pro Peleton has moved on to riding day after day. After day.

And we think riding on cobble is hard (more interesting though isn't it?).

E.I.O.O

Salivating yet?

You saw last weeks post, figured out some clothing was on the horizon and lo and behold here come the Belgian t-shirts! (yeah, I know it was obvious really wasn't it).

First style available is the logo T, featuring the lion (suit wearing) man of Flanders in both Dark Brown or Black (both shown above).

I could go on, wax lyrical (anyone remember that club night in Sheffield) and sing the praises of both the design and the T's. But I won't, I'm a Yorkshireman, a spades a spade and these are T's with a logo on... and I'm pretty happy with them.

So what are you waiting for?

Put your order in, get your shirt and wear it while cheering or jeering your favourite cross or cobble rider, either hanging over the course tape, cobble sector side or sofa bound... just be careful not to spill too much of your favourite Belgian brew on it.

Ordering is a simple process:

• Choose your T-shirt colour and size from the drop down list.
• Add the postage relevant to your region and order size - Note: No order will be shipped without relevant postage paid.
• View Cart is located in the right hand margin or below.
• Checkout. Payment is handled entirely by Paypal, is encrypted and secure. The facility to pay by credit card without having a Paypal account is also available.
• Shipping. Your shirt will be shipped at the earliest possible opportunity. Please allow 7-21 days should I need to restock the item or if you're in a distant part of the world.

Sizing: S: -38 M: 39-41 L: 42-44 XL: 44+

Garment Features: All Shirts are regular fit, 200 gsm heavyweight, 100% preshrunk cotton. Taped neck and twin needle stitching for neatness and strength.

Garment Care: Each shirt is printed using DTG (Direct to Garment) technology. To maintain the integrity and lifespan of your print, wash inside out, at a temperature of 30˚C.

LOGO T - Black

Black - SIze S £18.00 Black - SIze M £18.00 Black - SIze L £18.00 Black - SIze XL £18.00

LOGO T - Dark Brown

Dark Brown - SIze S £18.00 Dark Brown - SIze M £18.00 Dark Brown - SIze L £18.00 Dark Brown - SIze XL £18.00

Postage & Packing

UK - 1 Shirt £2.75 UK - 2 Shirts £3.00 UK - 3 Shirts £3.50 Europe - 1 Shirt £7.00 Europe - 2 Shirts £8.50 Europe - 3 Shirts £9.50 USA/Aus/NZ - 1 Shirt £8.50 USA/Aus/NZ - 2 Shirts £11.50 USA/Aus/NZ - 3 Shirts £13.50

Sunday morning afternoon

Good road miles this morning.

The world was still sleeping apart from:
4 mountain bikers
6 horseriders
2 Farmers
20 something runners

Temperature was far from balmy, first decent was a lipsmacker. Sent me into a headspin wondering how do you tell you've got frostbite on your face if you can't see it (or feel it).

The cold sent my senses into overdrive, smell becoming the primary driver.
Notable aromas where:
A drystone wall radiating a weeks worth of commuter's exhaust fumes.
Steaming horses grazing in a field.
Glue?

Having though about it, the horses weren't really grazing. They were standing in a snowy field wishing for spring.