The Ride of the Falling Leaves (Kent/Surrey version)

I've just got back from a cracking ride with Neil. We followed the route of Dulwich Paragon's 'Ride of the Falling Leaves', a sportive that takes place on October 3rd (truth be told, I was supposed to do this last year but the weather was so bad I felt sure that it would become the 'Ride of the Fallen Rider' so hid guiltily under the duvet in the knowledge that riders were coming literally past my door). Anyway, no such problems today as the weather was nothing short of perfect. Simply put YOU MUST DO THIS RIDE! it is absolutely brilliant - fantastic roads, beautiful pastoral countryside scenes and some absolutely killer climbs including the infamous Toys Hill (the above graphic shows it's inclines - ouch). Now I will feel no pangs of guilt tucking into tonight's fish & chips from the Sea Cow.

CLICK HERE FOR THE RIDE OF THE FALLING LEAVES

CLICK HERE FOR THE SEA COW (YUM, YUM)

J'adore etre un poseur

I had to get the weekend bike looked at today so rode it into work for a change (I am an utter mechanical ignoramus but the kind mechanic at Edwardes was so helpful and utterly unpatronising that they definitely get my vote for future visits). Anyway, as I got to the office so much earlier than normal it was still locked so I decided to get a coffee (actually, it was a cappuccino - full fat, of course) and sit outside at a table to watch the world go by. Now, my intention with this blog is to be as candid as possible so I have to report that, as I sat in the morning sun in full Lycra, Radars on head getting the occasional glance at the bike first and then me (doubtless they were thinking 'what does he look like?!') I utterly enjoyed the posing. Be honest, every single cyclist with a half decent bike and a moderate level of fitness absolutely does indulge in the narcissistic pleasure of 'being seen' every now and again. Otherwise why would we buy such glorious bits of kit unless we were pros? I am not ashamed to admit this and neither should you be.

EDWARDES, 221-225 CAMBERWELL ROAD, LONDON 020 7703 3676 (no website - strictly old school)

Born again cyclists

As a cyclist I am all too aware that I fall into a niche (born-again-middle-aged-indulging-in-the-bike-he-couldn't-afford-when-he-was-probably-fitter-to-ride-it type) and another part of said niche is soon to be fulfilled - that of being a dad (eek!). I now find myself eyeing every passing pram with the same lusty gaze that I previously reserved for 2 wheeled exotica. Quinny, Bugaboo, Phil&Ted, you name it and I now know it's weight, turning circle and how quick it packs down. But nothing, I mean nothing, could prepare me for this little discovery - the Concord Neo Carbon. This is truly a pram that would have even the most confirmed bachelor thinking twice about procreation. Luckily for me, both sets of parents have offered to furnish us with a set of wheels for the sprog (or sprogette) - I think they may be in for a shock.

CLICK HERE FOR A PRAM FIT FOR CONTADOR JUNIOR

Music to my ears

Well, the holiday is over, culminating in a wonderful 7 hour drive home along with all the other 'lets go earlier than the other' drivers crawling along the A303. Anyway, home now and looking forward to a nice ride out in tomorrow's sunshine. What better to get me in the mood than day 2 highlights of the Tour of Ireland? Well, I'll tell you what - some decent music on the opening and closing credits, that's bloody what! I can just about handle the Tour de France tune (although it does sound like a wheezing french accordion player giving his last breath into the bellows) but I cannot stand the drippy, whimsical 'Clannadian' Celtic crap that blurts out every 10 minutes during the hour long show. Maybe it's nostalgia but, as far as I am concerned, nothing will ever beat the Eighties Channel 4 highlights tune written by none other than everybody's favourite Buzzcock, Pete Shelley.

CLICK HERE FOR A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE

A fun day out!

I had a spring in my step today - a little bit of cycling related activity to brighten my day and populate my blog was the plan. So, with full clearance from my beloved, off we set towards the British Cycling Museum in Camelford (a small and rather dull town in North Cornwall probably most famous for having it's water contaminated in 1988 by 20 tonnes of aluminium sulphate being dumped into the wrong tank at a water treatment works). After driving through the mizzle and following the signs the anticipation grew and grew. However, after reaching what we thought was the right location the signage dried up, as can oft happen in the countryside. 'No fear, I'll just pop into the local information centre' says I, whence upon entering and waiting for the backpacking middle agers to decide their next choice of coastal path I was told by the kind lady that 'Oh, sorry ma deeyer, 'tis closed fur refurbissment. Ah donno wah theyz doowin it in Orgussed, 'tis stoopid'. Deep disappointment was compounded by the matronising comforting from my beloved. So, dear reader, I leave you for today with nothing where there could have been so much from a museum that boasts over 400 bikes, over 1000 medals, fobs and badges and window displays of gas, candle battery and oil lighting. No doubt yooz is as disappointed as Ize is.

There's truth in those lyrics!

I'm supposed to be on holiday from the bike but that doesn't mean the blogging stops. Here's a quickie that was sent sent to me by Jaz - it is a bit too close for comfort but utter genius!
CLICK ON PERFORMANCE

Holiday Time

A week off for most would be a welcome distraction from the daily grind and, indeed I am looking forward to a break in Cornwall. However, in an effort to keep my beloved sweet (little does she know the bigger picture) I have agreed to her request for a Lycra free week. Nothing but the delights of each others company (and my parents) for 8 whole days. No going out on cool Cornish mornings, sweeping down virtually traffic free roads (if you know where to look they do exist at this time of year, honestly) sucking in unlimited pure, clean air and no pre Southern Sportive training block. Oh how I am looking forward to it (cue gentle sobbing)