It's a man thing - isn't it?

Blimey, it's been nearly a month since my last nugget (although judging by the other blogs I have touched in on it seems the norm to take a break over the festive period and beyond...way beyond). Though most people may have used the conventional calendar (hopefully not Cycling Weekly's piss poor effort) to measure the passing of time I choose a far more reliable method - the length of my leg hair. Every morning when I step into the shower I look down and see the sorry reminder of my 2 wheeled inactivity - flowing blond tresses from my lower calves. NO MORE!! I am today resolving to return to both waxing lyrical and waxing my pins - well, not actually waxing because, despite my sadistic beloved's attempts to put me through the hell of tearing them out, I prefer to use Kiehls shaving cream. Not only does it give a silky smooth touch but also a tantalising tingle. It's a 100% masculine thing to do.

PS - Not my pants

Pitter, patter

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter...... No, it's not the sound of tiny feet (as if the boy could walk - he's not even been fitted for his new Colnago yet), it's the sound of rain, constant rain falling during the festive period. Today has to have been the absolute non plus ultra of shitty days with it seemingly never breaking into daylight. There have been only 2 days worthy of a good ride this holiday and both have been preceded by approximately 37 minutes sleep on the night before (why does he sleep all day and then decide it's time to talk at midnight?!). I worry, oh how I worry as I lie awake at night listening to the now 24/7 central heating draining my wallet ('he needs to be warm, dear') that things may never return to normal and that my legs will simply whither away and I will never get out on the road again for anything longer that my 45 minute commute. For this reason and this reason alone, I look forward to next week's return to work and my enthusiastic embrace of winter commuting.

The latest member of the metropeloton

So, finally, there is a new member of the team - Joel. He's a bonny little chap and I'm feeling pretty confident about his two wheeled potential. So far he's mastered the bidon technique, has no qualms about relieving himself whilst in the saddle (or cot, or fathers arms) and, after a brief course of antibiotics, is no stranger to the needle and will therefore be comfortable amongst the 'doctors' of modern cycling. Just between us, my beloved thinks that the name Joel came from a brainwave of cute names but little does she know that it actually comes from one of, if not the most vivid memory of a boyhood watching Le Tour. In 1989 Joël Pelier won a stage of Le Tour and immediately after crossing the line he fell into the arms of a media scrum only to shout 'mon père, mon père' it struck a deep cord and one day I dream that my Joel will cross the line, any line, in victory and cry out for me. Thank you my beloved - a greater gift you could not give x

The Closet Obsessive

It's a common fact that cyclists are an obsessive bunch of freaks at the best of times (latest kit, lightest weight, best eppilation technique etc, etc, etc) and I consider myself to be no different to any other. Well, actually I do consider myself to be slightly more obsessed than your average obsessed obsessive and, if proof were needed, this picture is it. For the last 4 weeks I have toiled, no I HAVE SLAVED over this f**king mdf monolith! For a man who has an issue putting air into his tyres somehow I had the bright idea that I would save money and prove to myself that I was a real man and build a cupboard. So drill, screw, sand, swear, drill again, screw some more (the cycling gloves came in handy to protect my delicate palms), swear, sand, swear, swear, chisel and SWEAR I did until you see what you see today. It's raw (like my nerves) and unpainted but it is solid and I genuinely think it will still be standing next week. And so, at least until the big arrival (Thursday is the due date!) I can now say that I will return to my forte of cynical scribe and never, EVER, pass a Homebase without a chill running down my spine. (PS - I have been up to some cycling stuff, some REAL GOOD cycling stuff, which will be revealed later this week)

The Flandrian cycle to work scheme

There was a negative (what else would you expect?) piece in the Evening Standard this week about how the Velib scheme is being underwritten by disgruntled Parisians due to 8000 being trashed or stolen and another 18000 needing repairs (so that means it's probably more like a third of that figure in truth) and how this would be the same when the scheme is launched in London. I despise (a strong word but chosen with thought and first hand experience) the negative sensationalism of most of today's newspapers - in a city of nearly 12 million people and over 16 million tourist visitors every year it's a pretty low percentage by my reckoning and one well worth paying. However, you do have to wonder where the stolen ones end up so hence the true motive behind today's post. The picture wasn't taken on a trip to Flanders (but oh how I wish it had been), no it was taken in London - it's either somebody who has the world's longest commute or another burden to the Flandrian tax payer.

Designer's bikes

Another (particularly) busy week over and yet again I find myself having not managed a new post for 7 days. Never mind, I'm here now and this week amongst an exhibition opening and a trip to see the local maternity ward (modern and clean but also stuffy and with that classic hospital smell which reminds me of Horlicks made using bleach) I somehow found myself at the Royal Designers for Industry annual shindig (obviously there as a guest rather than on merit). It was a true galaxy of the great, the good and the egocentric of the design world and I thoroughly enjoyed it. One of the reasons for this was that I sat next to one of this country's leading lights in product design, Sam Hecht (or Sam Hecht RDI to give him his official title on the evening). Knowing that I could not bluff my way through dinner by solely speaking about design related topics (which would have most likely got me no further than the bread roll before the starter) I cunningly turned the conversation to cycling and, in particular: was Sam a cyclist? Indeed he was (although he did look a little lost when I mentioned the name Colnago - I ask you!) and I can't tell you how relieved I was to have found some common ground before we'd reached the main course. His bike of choice? The Trek District. One might sigh 'quelle surprise' at this choice as if ever there was a 'designer's' bike then the District has got to be it (in the same way that for a brief period in the mid 90's every designer seemed to ride an Aprilia Moto). However it is undeniably a great looking bike and totally practical for the urban commuter (especially if your commute is from Primrose Hill to Clerkenwell - moi? envious? oui!) being single speed and belt driven - which is something that I cannot understand why more manufacturers are not producing, although I know that a new single speed belt driven Moulton is in the offing (purrrrrrrrrr).

Vive l'Youtube

I don't want to bleat on about it but since the weather turned and the pro season ended I am seriously struggling to put my mind to writing this blog. Partly busy with work, partly preoccupied with a certain forthcoming event (think pink, wrinkly - no, I'm not talking cold weather riding - I'm talking baby!) and partly because I only really want to write about things I have experienced or discovered. Whilst I fight my way out of this general malaise I will try and keep things ticking along with little vignettes and today's takes the form of the great bloggers back-up - Youtube. I have yet to work out how to embed a clip on this site so the link will have to suffice. It's worth clicking on as to me it sums l'humanité française in a nutshell - gruff, nonplussed, barefaced liars (well, perhaps that's a bit harsh but the last guy does make you think) and very, very funny. Merci, Nick.

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PS - In the words of Jon Bonjela - Keep the faith - there's life left in the old blog yet