What should be 2 posts squashed into 1

Finally got out for a pedal after a 3 week hiatus, trip home for SSUK was followed by a cold which led to me losing my voice (see whinging post below) then Carla's mum was out, I headed back to the UK for a 2 day surprise visit for my mum's 50th (yup she had 2 kids by my age) then my Dad was out for a few days.

Visitor whilst Dad, Carla and I sat in a cafe near the palace.


All fun but I was itching to try out the jones bars and make sure my second attempt at changing the brake hose had worked. It seemed to but the lever has since gone all limp :( The jones bars, however, were awesome. Need another ride to confirm it was them rather than excitement at being out on a bike but they seem to have negated the steep head angle on the ferrous- almost 73 degrees I think. Your weight is placed further back but it always feels like you can get upfront and aggressive on the climbs. Right up until the point I used them I was prepared to hate them and concede they were the emperor's new clothes but pending further rides they seem great. Obviously they're never gonna make me a good rider but they make a good bike feel even better.

Alex (astride a shiny new bike) and I mulled round a lap of the world cup course before giving it a second more concerted bash and both managed to clean 2 of the pretty steep consecutive climbs on both laps. Both failed to grind beyond two thirds of the proper steep climb on both attempts, however. Apparently world cup racers had installed grannies specifically for that climb, some were even carrying, although admittedly they were doing about 10 laps in a couple hours while we managed 2 in a time not far off that *ahem*

[gratuitous bike shot]


Plans (well ideas at least, actual plans seem a bit far off) for an event of some description have taken a back seat while I try to sort out work for the summer, doing the job I'm doing now again next year (which is proving hugely endless due to no-one knowing what the hell is going on in the school) and beyond that the very scary decision/falling into by mistake of what I'll do until the day I can start drawing my pension. Family, friends, banter, bikes, books, biscuits and beer (or wine) are all I really need to tootle along in life. Yet, I have to do something proper before too long, not necessarily because that's what you're supposed to do (something I've never been good at following) but because more and more I feel an urge to move onto something more substantial. Getting to the end of uni was enormous for me, a friend commented after we graduated on how many cards I'd received from family and longstanding friends congratulating me. The simple truth was that most thought I would have stumbled into something else before I'd finished. They weren't without justification.

Now I need to stop thinking about what to do and do it. What it is I have an idea. More than an idea, I know what it should involve or at least consist of: Challenging, rewarding, interesting and positive I just don't know what form it should take. I flirted with psychology but I think I'm being drawn back to the beginning despite this years setback. I need to bolster my credentials so I'm hunting for a volunteer project and trying to find a way to refresh my knowledge of the sciences without having to enrol in a massively expensive summer school.

But if anyone has any other ideas I'm always happy to change my mind.

pirates 'n' pedals

and I've got dibs on this tee (not available for another month sadly) don't wanna rock up somewhere to find another weasel sportin the same top, that's so '93

welcome to the darkness

Yum! Hidden on the twinsix website (can only find a link on bkb site), the genesis for the weasel jersey and covering the backs of some damn fine riders.


more here

how Carla keeps me in line

listening

It's just me in the flat now and it's probably for the best. Still got no voice, well strictly speaking I can talk but on the evidence of last night where I uttered less than a few sentences and woke up with my throat worse than yesterday morning then it's not a great idea. This makes it annoying for those I'm with-they see that I can sort of talk but it seems like I'm choosing not to and am simply sullen about being ill. This is only partly true (I'm a terrible patient) the real reason is that I am terrified of making my throat worse and prolonging my inability to speak properly; it is the most frustrated I've felt in a long time and I've been living in a foreign country for 3 months! That I have 2 flights in the next 3 days also makes me very nervous. Things are made even worse when I'm trying to communicate to someone with gestures or writing something down; people think I'm being endless or annoying when really I'd like nothing better than to squeak the syllable that would end my arm flailing and the misunderstanding it generates. However, every time I come close to relenting I realise it will only hinder me further in the long run and either continue gesticulating or resign myself to the fact no-one knows what I'm trying to say. Then it looks like I'm an ungrateful bastard who is in a huff, which again is only partly true. People telling me it could be worse and making comparisons to far, far worse illnesses are of course correct but are kind of missing the point, it's not the fact I'm ill that frustrates me as much as the fact I could be ill for longer if I did try and speak. That and the fact that however annoying it is to those that are forced to interpret my drowning man impression into relevant concepts it is infinitely more frustrating trying to make even the simplest contribution to a conversation without almost certain failure. I thought it would get easier with time (I lost my voice a few days ago) and it sort of is, it just means I resign myself to not contributing at all.

all quiet

Unbelievably it's been raining since I got back to Madrid :( This has been compounded by me having a cold, this isn't why we moved to Spain! I didn't sign up for this! I thought I was shedding it yesterday, felt much better and thought a good nights sleep would sort it out. It may have done except I kept waking up with a sore throat getting some water then waking up again when desperately had to pee, repeat until morning. Still it didn't seem so bad after clearing the yellow shit out my nose and a cup of tea this morning although my throat did seem weird when 'telling' the kids to listen all morning. Then after lunch it became clear something wasn't right, my voice seemed to be thinning and Nuria, the teacher I assist, sent me home to rest my voice. Since then it has gotten worse if anything :S although Carla is lapping up the silence she does resent having to everything while I point to my throat and make faces at her when asked to do anything. Well every cloud and all that....

jones'd

Finally got the new hose in, if only I'd had a vice, and though it's still a bit long I might play with stem lengths. Just need to ride it now.

home

My flight back to Madrid was delayed so didn't get home until 2am and was at work for 10 still, I finish at half 1 so it wasn't the end of the world ;) Got my stuff packed away then sat down to entertain myself with the above for the remainder of the day. Bars are on but need to get a longer hose for the rear brake and bleed it, how do you say brake hose in Spanish? Plumbers are here this morning which is a stark reminder of how little Spanish I speak (and also how much I've learnt since arriving) and starts to raise questions of where home is. Throughout my trip back to the motherland I kept citing the weather as a major factor as to why it's so nice to live here but since being greeted by rain on my return I've started to question why or what it is that makes us enjoy it here. As I type the sun has started to emerge! I'll mull the question before attempting an answer and as to where it leads us both metaphoricaly and literally time will tell.

I took advantage of the beard my trip had given me to freak out Carla and Lizzie with my cowboy/porn star 'tache. (it lasted 15 minutes)

ssuk

A much abbreviated event for me this year as it coincided with a trip back to the UK and I was a bit apprehensive rocking up on Sunday morning knowing that my weasels were absent but I needn't have been. Arrived asked where Dr Jon was as he and Hamish were the only folk I was sure were there yet and was pointed in the direction of the outcast banner...Hamish was still asleep but Jon and Trina were there as was Anja so I drew up a seat beside her and told her how much nicer the weather in Madrid is. (It has rained since I got back by the way) I felt quite relieved as the last time I saw Anja was on the way back from the pub and I was accusing her of being a little wheeled geared bike riding freak. Ahem.

So it was that I found myself in the company of Jenn Hopkins, Dave Anderson, Biff, who refused to stop talking about sifting through shite in the portaloo and mister Jo Burt amongst others. And no I certainly did not mention 'that sheep.' It was massively banterful as some sod had left his on-one with mary bars AND bar ends (surely a crime punishable only by death) lying beside us while he tried out Biff's Jones. (admittedly also a freakish bike) As they wrestled with its seatpost in a desperate attempt to sabotage it I suddenly realised just how good we had it last year, sunshine, cider and hunners of banter *sigh*

The race rolled around all too soon just as the skies opened and 250 riders bottlenecked the first climb. Before the race I'd known I was nowhere near the fitness I had had last year but knew that being able to stand up before the race should give me an advantage over last year. It wasn't to be. I hurt like hell, every climb felt like a total slog and the rooty descents were ever so slightly sketchy in the wet after a hundred odd riders had torn it up. After an hour or so I had gained a bit more faith in the little wheeled steed and it's scary but predictable tyres but alas as I came towards the end of my second lap I hit a fireroad climb as Adrian passed me as if I was standing still :( I started winding up my legs in a bid to at leats hold him to the end but after a while I resigned myself to the fact that it just wasn't going to happen. Ah well. He was saying afterwards there was about 700m of vertical climbing per lap! God knows how long the laps were but felt like forever, still I'll def be back to ride there again.

At the prizegiving Anja collected a cool trophy for her winning efforts and tried to pass off her 'champagne' on us but was turned down in favour of the free beer :D I sadly missed out on furthest travelled, apparently some tool had come from Sweden and taken 39 hours to get t the race. Damn. Still it was wicked fun, saw Mike from Stirling, the guy whose bunkhouse Alec and I took at Aviemore, a few folk who recognised the weasel jersey as well as my 'support' crew of Chops, his wee girl Rose, Andy Cathcart and his other half: "That bike deserves more," "Rose is crying you're so bad!" Cheers guys

joggin along

Stable week this week, no major dramas (thus far at any rate but still got a flight to miss) and bumbling along quite nicely thank you very much. Got out for a few hours riding yesterday but somewhat terrified of the impending mud and roots this weekend at SSUK after spending last 2 months on sand in glorious sunshine :O Already been some changes to the plan and going to stay at my folks Sat night and head to the race Sun morn. Had couple generous offers to camp with randoms but it's not really the same, Sun should be a blast with 'challenges' promised and meeting up with chopless and dr j again, Im hoping there's a furthest travelled category-fingers crossed some bugger from Oz hasn't rocked up. (Tho Anja is from NZ I will contest the legality of her claim...) Anyway not much else to say, Dry-x's are pretty nice tho interesting at times and thought I'd buckled my front wheel when took a shortcut and found a massive ditch with my front wheel yesterday-still not determined what caused the very loud 'whabooom' noise from the front :S

Very much looking forward to proper beer and seeing mi familia :D