Crash course

Been on the bike quite a bit, but mainly riding to and from work on a loaner. So after a week of no dirt, I hit the trails of Makara with Josh and his friend Carl on Sunday. After a false start when I left my shoes at home, I finally met them and Johnathon at the carpark and we got underway. I should've brought a road bike as we slogged up the tar to the start of Varley's Track, a switchback ribbon up the side of the hill to the start of Vertigo. Carl (who it turns out I'd read about in NZMTBR mag, he runs singletrack tours in Colorado and Moab and is a gun rider) suggested we all drop our seats down for this on, but as I'm on a gram saving mission, I'd swapped it out for a standard clamp. I'd ridden Vertigo once before, and remembered it was pretty steep and tight in sections. I also remembered Rad Ross's words "only a dufus drops their seat post, duuude". About halfway down I was praying to the QR Gods as I happened upon Josh off his bike, doing what I don't know, discovering some new species of butterfly or something. Actually he's stuffed up a drop-off, and with nowhere to go and a seat digging into my ribs, it was a trip over the bars for me. I took the impact on my left leg (?) and got out of it pretty well unscathed. My ankle was a bit sore from being clipped in I guess, but it only hurt when I pedalled.
Today (my day off), I was still alittle tender, but decided a ride might sort it out. And it did. Until I shoulder charged a tree, swapped from one side of the track to the other, and landed in a pile of fallen trees, same leg clipped in, now with added bruising and what feels like the groin ripped from the bone. Oh how I love mountain biking. Time for a couple of painkillers, Steinlager administered.

Parallels

Working in a bike shop is working in a bike shop. Or is it? Some things change, some remain the same. My new place of employ has it's advantages, for sure. The first bike I got to build here was a carbon S-Works Epic, not a $199 shitter. Both store are Specialized dealers, but only one actually has a full array of models on the floor. Both shops pay peanuts, but I'll take less money for better vibes. Both shops have a disgruntled BMX'er mechanic named James who doesn't like dealing with the public. Only one shop has a boss who doesn't mind going for a beer after work, and who shouts the beers and wedges. Both shops have mental case customers and shit kids coming in and annoying you with stupid questions. Both shops have radios playing during the day, only one allows the cool radio station to be played, at least until Matt cracks the shits and wants his rubbish hits station on. But we usually overpower him. And the best thing of all is the cheap bits! That'll always keep me in this field, in some capacity at least...

Let me stand next to your Fire

Was it my birthday? Was it a prank played on me by unscrupulous workmates? No, I was just trying to cook a pizza. I'd only heated up the oven, opened the door, and a small puff of smoke escaped. Not enough to set off a fire alarm. Not back at home in Oz anyway, where I'd regularly filled the house with thick plumes without a beep. But it did beep, for a couple of minutes, then stopped. Cool. I heard another alarm going off, from the main residence upstairs... I guessed no-one was home. Then their phone started ringing, and ringing. Then it stopped. Relief. As I continued to prepare my pizza, I heard a siren in the distance. Not the Scarlett Johansson type, unfortuanately. Then the lights, flashing, red, blue, red, blue. Half a dozen fully kitted firemen (or strippers, I wasn't sure) made their way to my door, where I sheepishly explained I was just a poor cook.

50 points for businessmen

Fanging through the buses down Lambton Quay (in the CBD) yesterday when a suit stepped out into the traffic, saw me barrelling down on him, and froze in the middle of the road, hands up in a "ok you're about to hit me" pose....I locked up the back wheel and slid around him, muttering niceties as I continued on. Missed the 50 points though....

Same hero, different day...

So, you remember the CWH from the other day? Well, riding home yesterday (on a shop bike, hardtail with slicks while I wait for my own beater to arrive) I was drafting a bus along Thorndon Quay, staying out of the wind, when I came up old mate and a roadie cruising along. As I had a bit of speed up, I went past them and said "jump on", which they did. Old mate sat there for awhile, then I told him to do a turn, as I knew we were about to hit the Ngaio Gorge climb. He smashed it up the lower slope and then, as per form, popped when the grade got tougher. I gapped him and then felt obliged to keep it up so I wouldn't look like a 'Gorge road Hero"! Towards the top where I turn off I'd backed off (well, I was stinging a bit and still had more climbing to do) I heard a puffing, wheezing noise behind, and lo and behold he'd got back up to me just in time for me to turn off, saying "nice ride" as I swung into Perth St. Our battles will no doubt continue. I gotta tell him to straighten his damn mudguard though, it cracks me looking at that thing hanging off....

Havana good time

It's been a rainy couple of days here, so with the prospect of no riding today, we headed out last night for a few beers on the town. 'We' is my workmate Josh, and his friends Yasmine and Ritchie. First stop was the Southern Cross, a quite upmarket type of pub, with a cool courtyard out the back and a not-so-riffraff clientele. As was driving, I didn't help too much with the draining of jugs, but a few went down nicely that's for sure. We were gonna call it a night, but decided to head just around the corner to the Havana Bar where Josh said a DJ called Recloose was playing. I'd seen a story on tv last week about this guy. He's moved here from Detroit, and lives on a property outside of Wellington somewhere, making music and living up to his name. As we walked into a dark backstreet lined with panel beating shops and dodgy looking tatto parlours, I wondered why we were walking towards an old house. Turns out the old house is actually the bar. It's like walking through someone's living room, down the hall, make yourself comfy on their lounges. Cool. Recloose was spinning some funk, house and hip hop infused beats (on vinyl too), with a friendly vibe among the punters. The cucumber water was going down a treat too! Met a few more cool people, including a dude who knows James from work, and a slightly crazy but gorgeous girl named Gosia, who wanted to see what socks I was wearing. She had big wooly ones on, coz she'd been to the big outdour gig at the Basin Reserve in the wet. I headed home about 2, which became 1 with daylight savings ending today, to watch Bolton get flogged by Man U 4-1. Thinking it was going to rain again today, I slept in, but woke to a brilliant day of sunshine and a flat tyre on my bike. Josh was too seedy to ride, so we decided on a movie instead, and Yasmine came along too. We saw 'The Science of Sleep', a brilliant, twisted tale from Michel Gondry, he of 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind". If you don't know what the hell I'm talking about, get with it and see them both.

A new breed of Hero

Regular readers (?) of this collection of ramblings will have heard me refer to Fire Road Heroes, that breed of 'racer' that blasts past you on flat, open sections, only to blow chunks when the going gets technical/steep. Well, since I've been commuting to work for the last week, I've discovered a new breed... the 'Cycleway Hero' (CWH). A classic example yesterday, I'm cruising along minding my own beeswax, when I'm startled by a CWH. About 5o years old, on a cheap MTB with semi-slicks, fluoro rain jacket (it wasn't raining of course), hairy legs, driving it about 45kmh (remember, we're riding on a footpath, basically). Cool, I thought, I'll just sit on here while he battles against the wind. As we came to the end of the cycleway (fireroad) and into the city traffic (singletrack), he did the usual Heroe's capitulation, and I thanked him for the tow and weaved my way through the traffic and pedestrians, messenger style! Lovin' the city riding, I've got the offer of a fixie from a workmate, so I'm gonna have a crack at it soon. If I like it (and more to the point, remember that I can't coast) I might get one of these...
Stay tuned for my injury list....

Bikes make it all better

I'm now officially a Wellingtonian (for how long, who knows?). Moved into my flat on Saturday, and was feeling a little bit strange about it all, I guess being on my own after travelling with K-man and Rad then having to re-enter the real world was a bit of a shock to the system. So on Sunday I took the best medicine known to man, a bike ride. Did two hours at Makara, including the Aratihi climb twice, and Vertigo for the first time, then up Wrights Hill and down Deliverance. I must say I'm climbing pretty well, you have to to survice in these here parts. In the arvo it was down to the city to watch the last stage of the womens Trust House Classic road stage race, a criterium around Lambton Quay. And damn good racing it was too... the girls were fully up it, with good crowds cheering them on, well mainly cheering for local legend Sarah Ulmer. I was cheering for Newcastle's legend Olivia Gollan, and the rest of the Aussies, Carrigan, Rhodes, and that chick with the cool brother... you know, Jarrett's sister... The T-Mobile team had won every stage and continued their dominance with Ina Yoko Teutenberg breaking away 20 minutes out and crushing the field for a solo vicco. Ulmer and two others got away from the bunch two laps out and the Kiwi took the sprint for 2nd.Judith Arndt took the yellow jersey, Ulmer the points, and Jarrett's sister won two stages, and Linda Villumsen just looked hot. I ran into Mike, a customer of the shop and a tall, tattooed gentle giant who I'd seen at Karapoti the week before. He's a cool guy, as are the guys at the shop. Name-dropping time again, I work with Matt Illingworth, an English Olympian, Commonwealth Games medallist and former road pro. He now does Ironman triathlons, and finished 29th in the NZ Ironman the weekend of Karapoti. If I get my road bike sent over, he'll be ripping my legs off no doubt. He doesn't like riding in group rides, calling them a "bunch of roady wankers", so we'll get on fine. Nigel the boss is cool too, no looking over your shoulder, and he actually serves customers, answers phones and does repairs! In touch with the real people, unlike that other place I used to work (and have vowed never to go back to.. remind me of this). Today being my day off, I was planning to ride again, but it's RAINING! That's right, it always rains in NZ... hopefully the summer will last a little longer, before it's lights, jackets and leg warmer time.

And we thought he was cool....

Look what's happened to Ross... he gets back to the States and thinks he's some sort of playboy?
Nice positioning of the dog there, Radboy. Looks like some of the ladies you were chasing in NZ.

Road Stumpy

Look at dat! Slick, eh...

Did a dummy run of my commute this arvo after work, as I don't move in to my flat ubtil Sunday. From work to flat, 25 minutes, only 10 minutes to the bottom of the Gorge road climb, then a steady climb up, with a final drop down to the flat. Going to work will be quicker, 16 minutes total, flying down the gorge, drafting cars, then flat to the city. I wanna be a bike messenger, so much fun flying through the city streets, up one-way streets the wrong way, on footpaths, cutting between cars, buses and pedestrians.... No, I'd never do that!