slumberfogey

The Tour of Flanders

The 2008 Tour of Flanders had about 30,000 participants, many of whom, like me cycled over a 140km distance that took in a fair few flat cobbled sections.  It also had 16 climbs, most short, very steep and cobbled.  Unfortunately, it also had at least one American based in London whose bike handling skills need to improve.

Cycling with my mates from the Trabail VC, I was enjoying the (relatively) good weather, tremendous spirit of a cycling nation at it's national event, classic route and challenging climbs and cobbles.  At around 100km into the race, I tried to make a move from the road to the bike path in tight circumstances.  I missed the paved connector and found myself travelling at 30+mph in the grass strip between road and path.  Knowing that uneven grass was not a good surface for this sort of speed, I decided to try a 'bunny hop' up onto the path to my right.

My bunny hop failed.  My bike tyres caught on the edge of the path and spilled me over onto my right side with a thump and a skid.  I bounced across the path and the many cyclists just behind me managed (through exercising bike handling skills much better than my own!) to avoid crashing into me or one another.  My mates and several other riders were very helpful as a sat dazed and battered for about 10 minutes before re-mounting the bike and going on to finish the race.  My hip and shoulder were killing me, but there was no way I was NOT going to finish the race.

The 'road rash' scrapes are now under special bandages to help themheal cleanly; I'm getting better movement in my shoulder; the deep bruising is now releasing its eerie colour to the skin's surface, leaving my kids both grossed out and proud.  I think I'll be able to get a couple gentle rides in this weekend and officially be 'back on the bike.'

Crash aside, the Ronde van Vlaanderen was a great event - very well marshalled and with two well-organised food & drinks stations.  It allows you to experience a challenging cycling event in a country where cycling is THE national sport.  It shows what cycling was like in earlier days, when the cobbles were actually better than any other surface option, rather than a quaint oddity to be avoided except in  dedicated events like this that make you test yourself on them.

It being Belgium, we were also never far, in distance or time terms, from tasty and strong Belgian beer.  Most were in the 7-10% range, meaning we needed to (but didn't) take care to avoid getting plastered.  One silver lining to my crash was that it gave me an excuse not to drink myself silly Saturday night, allowing me to retire while my mates poisoned themselves, and thereby leaving me in a relatively healthy state on Monday morning, despite the discomfort of my crash injury's.

On Sunday, we went to nearby Geraardsbergen to watch the pro race.  After watching for a while on the telly in a smokey pub in the main square, we walked further up the famous and demanding Kapelmuur to a spectators' area with beer tents and a giant-screen telly.  From there, we watched the finely-balanced race on screen until we then saw the contestants flash before our eyes.  Stijn Devolder, a Belgian and the  eventual winner, attacked on the climb and went on to win the race (for the second year in a row) 12 km later.  The pro peleton was spread out over the next five minutes, the 250 previous km having obviously exacted a serious price from even these top athletes.

For the atmosphere, the challenge, the unique backward step in time and for (in moderation...) the beer.  I can heartily recommend that you put the Tour of Flanders on your cycling calendar for next year.  Just remember to stay upright on your bike.  I'll have undertaken some remedial bike handling training by then, so hopefully you won't need to detour round my body or wonder at a chalk outline on the road.

Relativity, The Red Queen and Willing Slaves

Something in Robert Frank's The Economic Naturalist made a good connection between a couple of ideas for me today.

In giving examples of when the pursuit of selfish interest leads to poor collective results, Frank discussed a certain class of problem that leads not so much to market failure as to a less desirable equilibrium for all than would be possible under mutual agreement (or regulation).  As Frank points out, Adam Smith's invisible hand works when decisions are made and outcomes derived based on absolute costs and benefits, but it runs into problems when the benefits derive from relative differences rather than absolute values.

An example in the non-human world is with male elks.  These guys compete fiercely for mating rights with the local harem of girlie elks.  This competition takes the form of oh-so-male fights with their fearsome antlers.  In general, he with the biggest rack wins, and his genes are then passed on to the next generation via his celebratory copulation with his ladies.   As a result, males in successive generations have bigger and bigger racks.  The main point is that the benefit - lots of good elk sex - accrues to a winner not based on the absolute size of his rack but rather based on its size relative to that of his competitors.

Over many generations, this has led to a state in which male elks have these  racks which are good in mating fights but which get tangled in trees etc, making life generally difficult.  They'd all be better off if they could just agree to all reduce the size of their antlers by, say 50%, thereby keeping the same relative pecking order but at a more beneficial rack size.

It recalls a term Matt Ridley used as the title of one of his books about evolution - The Red Queen.  It is used more often with respect to the evolutionary battles between predators and prey, males and females, hosts and parasites.  But I think the central point applies here as well.  The allusion is to the character in Alice in Wonderland who has to run at full speed just to stay in one place.  A rack that several generations ago would have served to win the harem just doesn't cut it among the current set of competitors.  Males in each successive generation need to bring a bigger game than their ancestors, just to have a chance.

Now, the final connection, bringing the concept into the human world and more specifically the labour market, is this.  Since in corporate performance management systems things like promotion, pay increases and the awarding of plum assignments are based on workers' standing relative to their colleagues (as opposed to attainment / qualification on some objective scale), a worker keen to get ahead has every incentive to put in that bit of extra effort, to put in those slightly longer hours.  And if just one person did so, that person (in a simple world) would get ahead at work and reap the rewards.  The thing is,  not just one person does it.  Everyone sees the relationship between working harder / longer and improved chances to get ahead, so many people go the extra mile.

But if many people are doing so, then the relative advantage that one has over the others disappears.  This in turn drives people to turn it up yet another notch, and so on.  In the end, we find a working population breaking their backs, as Madeleine Bunting shows in Willing Slaves.  This whole exercise is a collectively maladaptive 'race to the bottom' (in quality of life terms).  Like for the elk above, a mutual compact or regulation could give rise to the same pecking order but at a different (better) equilibrium point in terms of hours worked.  This is what the EU Working Time directive seeks (however imperfectly) to do, but of course Britain has  an opt-out clause for that, so the race to the bottom is still very much alive here.

In general, I'm not really that great a fan of a lot of regulation, especially when it comes from Brussels.  What I would much prefer is for people to take a step back to properly assess what the costs to them of deriving these status and pay benefits at work are.  What, in broader life terms, is the opportunity cost of pouring oneself so completely into work?  To what extent are they choking, depleting or neglecting their roles and potential contributions to family, friends, community and their own health?

The final irony is that the benefits themselves are subject to the Red Queen rule of relativity.  John gets the big promotion, the pay that goes with it and the cool toys, gadgets and properties that the pay buys.  As he sighs contentedly and glances around him, the smile fades from his face as he compares his status to a new stratum of competitors.  Someone is still senior to him, making more money than his, living in a bigger house too.  His absolute gains have set him apart from one comparator group but simply focused his all-too-human eyes on another.  His happiness derives (or fails to derive) from comparison with his new peers.  Contentment hovers, ever just beyond his grasp, at the horizon, as he grunts and sweats, legs churning on the treadmill.

Wake up Johnny.

Lands End to John O'Groats

I spent 12-23 July on my bike, traversing Britain from Lands End to John O'Groats.  This is quite likely to be a long post, because in addition to telling a bit of a story about my journey, I'm aiming to share as much useful info as I can for others who come across this post as they research doing their own End-to-End trip.

The Route
My route was the Cycle Touring Club's (OTC's) B&B route.  The directions are tweaked and updated over time, so best to download the most recent CTC Pack.  This will give you text directions which I found invaluable.  The route uses primarily lanes rather than A or B routes.  This keeps you away from the fastest moving traffic, but it requires close attention to navigation as you cycle, as it can be easy to miss important turns.

I used the directions to plot my route on the map.  Your choice of daily start and end points will depend on how long you're taking and whether you want any breaks along the way.  I did it with 12 cycling days and no breaks.  This works out to about 85 miles per day.

If you have Google Earth, you can download my route in this kmz file.  All twelve segments are together in one folder, which is the best way to organise them when you import them as well.

Those without Google Earth can use this set of links to view each leg in turn:

Lands End to Bude

Bude to Bridgwater

Bridgwater to Monmouth

Monmouth to Market Drayton

Market Drayton to Bashall Eaves

Bashall Eaves to Castle Carrock

Castle Carrock to Innerleithen

Innerleithen to Bankfoot

Bankfoot to Braemar

Braemar to Inverness

Inverness to Bettyhill

Bettyhill to John O'Groats

For use on the road, I marked up an A3 road atlas with the route and took with me only the necessary pages.  No use buying and carrying loads of OS maps or an entire atlas.  Each night before going to sleep, I would review the combination of the CTC text instructions and the map to familiarise myself with the next day's route.

Diary

11 July - got the bike ready  and took an MPV mini-cab to Paddington to catch the 2345 sleeper service to Penzance.  I was able to get my  bike secured in the guard's van (a worry for me, as I'm not familiar with traveling with a bike) with no problems and actually was in my private cabin by 2300 and off to sleep before we even pulled out of the station.   By the way, you can check about how to take your bike on the railways with this pdf.

12 July - Penzance to Lands End & Lands End to Bude
Miles cycled - 110
Feet climbed - 8280
Hours cycling - 9
Average speed excluding stops - 14 mph

Missed turns - at least 4
Irate motorists - 0 (I'll tell you now that I encountered none on whole trip)
Croissants for breakfasts - 3
Bottom comfort  factor - 9
Brufen taken - 2 (I took 2 every day at lunch to combat knee pain and general aches)

Continental breakfast brought to me in my sleeper cabin, then a top up of two croissants in Penzance station before setting off at 0820.  Smooth 10-mile ride to Lands End for the obligatory picture, etc.  Met 3 other End-to-Enders, who who taking a more southerly route together across Cornwall and Devon.

Embarked properly on the End-to-End at 0920 and promptly missed a turn on the (different) route to Penzance.  Altered route and avoided losing any time or distance.   Navigation went more smoothly to Truro, where I stopped for a sandwich lunch, sitting in an outdoor area under the glare of a waiter from a competing restaurant, who felt that his placing a menu at the table meant I couldn't sit there.

Tricky afternoon, as I had a hard time finding the right lane leading out of Truro.   I also discovered a computational error in the CTC directions that meant they had under-estimated the distance to Bude by 3.5 miles - a psychological blow.  Missed a turn between Truro and Wadebridge that cost me 2 more miles.

Reached nadir in Boscastle and Tintagel (beautiful in their own right) where sugar low and de-hydration caught up with me.  A break, snack, drink and couple of brufen helped.  In the final push to Bude, I made a route adjustment to take the A39 vs. the scheduled coastal road.  It saved me a number of miles, at the cost of riding on a fast, busy road.

Arriving in Bude (a nice little town), I found the guest house quickly.  The owners didn't turn me away despite my filthy head/face (including two dried dead bugs plastered to my forehead).  A shower, some stretching and two cups of tea returned me to the world of the living.  Washed socks and base layer (radiator kindly on for drying).

1/2 lb. cheeseburger and chips to refill the tank, and as my wee was DARK yellow, sipping water throughout evening and night to re-hydrate.

Had to make repeated adjustments to tighten my seat-post rack through the day.  I think I've got it properly ratcheted in now, so I hope not to have to faff with that anymore.

Overall, I suffered more than I expected.  The incessant up and down was taxing, especially as the steepness of the ascents was more than my non-touring bike is meant for and the steepness and narrowness of descents didn't allow me to let the bike run to 'cash in' on the investment I'd made in the climbs.  I cycled more miles today than I ever have; I climbed more feet than ever before as well - and all of that with 15 lbs. of cargo weight that I've never cycled with before.  So I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I'm shagged.  The good news is that this is the longest day of the whole trip, so I've tackled the toughest.

Just hope my recovery overnight is sufficient to set me up for a tough day through Devon tomorrow...

13 July - Bude to Bridgwater
Miles cycled - 85 (195 cumulative)
Feet climbed - 8280 (15,660 cumulative)
Hours cycling - 9 (16-1/4 cumulative)
Average speed excluding stops - 12.8 mph

Missed turns - 0!
Bottom comfort factor -8

Departed the guest house at 0910, consciously taking it a bit easier that the previous day.  A lot of climbing in the first hour, but my legs warmed to it well.

Have noticed a clicking sound that seems to be coming from my  right pedal or bottom bracket.  Hope it's not something that will reduce drivetrain efficiency and make me work harder than I should!

Lunch in a dodgy pub in South Moulton, but everyone inside ends up being very nice, despite my looking like a twat in all my lycra.  After lunch, a five-mile climb up onto Exmoor.  I'm standing more in my climbing, not for speed but just to make it a bit easier on the knees.   It's also just plain essential for some of the sharp 15%-20% climbs on today's route.

Beautiful thatch-roofed villages on Exmoor, but each has a sharp descent in and sharp climb out.  Oh, for a bit more smooth flat...  Good weather though, just like yesterday.

The climb between beautiful little Cothelstone and Enmore was a final sting in the tail, having to stand the whole way up, with my heart rate pumping high.  Still, was never desperate today like yesterday.

Found B&B quickly, hand washed a load of laundry and had a huge Weatherspoon's dinner of chicken wings, meatball linguine and apple/blackberry crumble!

14 July - Bridgwaterto Redbrook (near Monmouth)
Miles cycled - 80 (275)
Feet climbed - 3600 (19,260)
Hours cycling - 7 (23-1/4)
Average speed excluding stops - 13.6 mph

Missed turns - o
Near misses - 2 (whew)
Bottom comfort factor -7
(Left) knee pain factor -3

The first 19 miles are an easy roll to Cheddar.  Really enjoyed the 2.5 mile climb up through Cheddar Gorge.  Then needed to settle into some tricky navigation through small lanes and villages.

Another high point was a lovely 5 mile stretch on the SusTrans Bath-Bristol Railway Path - wind-breaking trees on either side, a picturesque steam train station and NO TRAFFIC!  All well maintained as well.

Crossing the Severn Bridge was intimidating - so high above such a large body of water.  Really more a finger of the ocean pointing inland than a river pointing out.

Worryingly, my left knee was a bit painful on the bike in the afternoon and remains so through the evening.  Different from my previous right knee pain -right at the top of the patella, with the pain coming as the knee bends.

Bartender/cook at the pub where I had dinner tonight looks and talks (albeit with English rather than American accent) just like Moe from Simpsons.  Wye valley beautiful but seems economically depressed.  Weather today was overcast but with no rain - perfect.

15 July - Redbrook to Market Drayton
Miles cycled - 100(375)
Feet climbed - 5360 (24,620)
Hours cycling - 8-1/2 (31-3/4)
Average speed excluding stops - 13.8 mph

Missed turns - 3
Serious missed turns - 1
Closed road inhibiting recovery from serious missed turn - 1
Miles lost - 2
Time lost - 20 minutes
Associated unnecessary hard, steep climbs - 2

Noticing that the planned route was actually 105 miles, I altered a bit, zipping up the A466 and A49 to Leominster (pronounced Lemster).  Both Monmouth and Ludlow (where I had a nice 5-salad lunch) are lovely market towns.

The route was refreshingly flat today.  Lovely quiet lanes for much of the day's ride.  I had a bit of wind, but it was rarely dead-set against me.  No rain - 4 straight days!

Aiming to alleviate the left knee issue, I raised my seat 1 cm to reduce the depth of the knee bend required on the pedal stroke.

Ironbridge (scene of my navigation horror) had some interesting Victorian infrastructure (aquaducts and rail bridges) to accompany its huge coal power generation plant.

My host at tonight's B&B is doing my laundry for me and in all other ways going out of her way - VERY good value.  Cheap and cheerful buffet dinner at an odd pub in town.

16 July - Market Drayton to Bashall Eaves
Miles cycled - 95 (470)
Feet climbed - 3440 (28,060)
Hours cycling - 8 (39-3/4)
Average speed excluding stops - 13.7 mph

Missed turns - 2
Cost - 4 miles (ouch!)
Remedy - shortcuts on A-roads later in the day (phew!)
Bottom comfort factor - 6

Mainly a flat route today, but with a fair bit of wind in my face most of the way.  The day ends with highlands rising all around me, although I can't see the tops because everything is clouded in. 

Stayed dry today for the 5th straight day, but forecasts and my eyes tell me that tomorrow will be a big departure from that lucky run.   It was cooler today, and I broke out both the arm- and leg-warmers as well as the light jacket.

The morning went well enough, but I was seriously dragging by the time I stopped for my late lunch, and my bottom was hurting for the first time.  A big lunch (another Weatherspoons), 2 brufen and a comfy sit down sorted things, though.

Crossed over Manchester Ship Canal (a toll bridge, but my trusty bike and I were exempt).  Also rode right by Reebok Stadium.  Passed within 8 miles of central Manchester, 2 of Bolton, 4 of Blackburn and 6 of Wigan.  The boys will recognise all of those Premiership clubs.

My B&B tonight is at a working farm remote from the village.  I'm riding into a village with the owners to get dinner and catching a minicab back, as they're staying out late for pool night at their local.

17 July - Bashall Eaves to Castle Carrock
Miles cycled - 85 (555)
Feet climbed - 6840 (34,900)
Hours cycling - 7-1/2 (47-1/4)
Average speed excluding stops - 12.6 mph

Missed turns - 0
Short cuts - 1
Miles saved - 6.5
Hours in the depths of hell - 2
Bottom comfort factor - 8

Rode into a gale wind and driving, torrential rain while climbing onto and across the fells north of Bashall Eaves.  Soaked to the bone within 10 minutes and freezing cold - despite jacket.  The wind was in my face all day, but it did ease in strength once I got down off the fells.

Stopped for a late lunch at 13:40 and 50 miles into the ride.  The publican built a fire and gave me a tip for a better (read shorter AND flatter) route for the rest of the route, which really saved my skin.  The remainder of the ride from there was steady and pretty manageable.

After reaching my second consecutive working farm B&B, had a very good dinner at the appropriately named 'The Weary Sportsman'.  Half way there in terms of days and more than half way through the miles.

Encouragingly, my knee felt better today.

18 July - Castle Carrock to Innerleithen
Miles cycled - 70 (625)
Feet climbed - 3600 (38,500)
Hours cycling - 6 (53-1/4)
Average speed excluding stops - 13.7 mph

Missed turns - 0
Closed roads - 1
Oversize vehicles on diversion - too many
Grams of mud on self and bike - 2000 (or so)
Bottom comfort factor - 9
Knee pain factor - 3

I'm in Scotland!  It was a rainy day, but thankfully, there was little wind.

Lovely gradual climbs with long gradual descents that really allow the bike to run (at least 3 of these).  Best bit of the whole ride so far was the descent from the entrance into the Borders region.

Earlier, the main road was closed due to a mudslide, and I was quite worried about what the implications were for my route.  But a friendly motorist at a crossroads stopped to brief me on the situation and how to proceed.  Phew!

Several villages/hamlets in which I had planned to have lunch had no pubs or eateries, so, becoming increasingly hungry and concerned, I barely reached a pub at 50 miles for lunch bang on 14:00.

It was a short day - I arrived at guest house at 16:00.  Did lots of laundry, which owners dried in their airing cupboard.  My rain cover for the back bag is less than perfect, so I've bought plastic bags to wrap my clothes in (as P told me to do in the first place).

Great meal at the guest house.  Met and dined with three other cyclists down from Edinburgh, one of whom had done the End-to-End in May.

Nice call from R&J and texts from Geoff and Mads to keep spirits up.

19 July - Innerleithen to Bankfoot
Miles cycled - 87 (712)
Feet climbed - 4340 (42,840)
Hours cycling - 8 (61-1/4)
Average speed excluding stops - 12.9 mph

Missed turns - 0
Closed roads - 0
Closed cycling paths over Firth of Forth Bridge - 1
Detour cost - only 10 minutes
Depressing suburban villages - 2
Bottom comfort factor - 9
Knee pain factor - 1

I had a couple of trying moments today: a40-minute downpour as I approached and skirted Edinburgh and riding 15 miles into the teeth of a stiff headwind (while also on a sugar low) once on the other side of the firth.

The firth crossing was, like crossing the Severn, a reminder of the enormity of nature.  Although the bridges themselves are obviously man-made, the volume of water over which they cross and the strength of the wind that whips them are reminders of the greater canvas on which they are but specks.

I  blew through without lunch today, just loading up on cereal bars and, latterly, crisps.

It all turned right as I climbed out of Letts O'Muckhardt toward Dunning.  This took me outof the wind.  At the top of the climb and through much of the fantastic descent, I had great views of the Cairngorms to the north.

I was weary but in good spirits as I arrived in sunshine at the Bankfoot Inn.  I had a lovely meal in the restaurant downstairs before turning in.

20 July - Bankfoot t0 Braemar
Miles cycled - 48 (760)
Feet climbed - 3020 (45,860)
Hours cycling - 5 (66-1/4)
Average speed excluding stops - 11.3 mph

Missed turns - 0 (there are very few turns to make now!)
Kept room keys - 1 (oops)
Bottom comfort factor - 8
Knee pain factor - 2

It was a short day today, which is just as well.  Had a very easy initial 12-1/2 miles, then turned north into a vicious headwind that pounded me for the rest of the day.

Had lunch in Spittal of Glenshee before heading up past the ski centre (the highest point on my End-to-End ride) and then down into Braemar.  On the long steep climb, the wind was accompanied by a slashing rainstorm.  On the long descent, the rain gave way, but at several points, I needed to pedal the bike forward in low gear just to keep the bike moving into the wind.

Still, arrived just past 15:00 at my B&B and enjoyed a relaxing late afternoon watching the end of the British Open, where the golfers too were battling the wind.  Had a non-descript meal at the hotel in town.  Both Braemar and the surrounding country are beautiful.  I just wish the weather were a bit better so that I could enjoy it even more.

Had I been programmed to ride much further today, I'm not sure how I'd have done it.  I found the going into the wind very tough.  The forecast calls for the wind to lighten and change direction for tomorrow.  If it doesn't, I'll have a hard time completing the planned 85 miles...

21 July - Braemar to Inverness
Miles cycled - 82 (842)
Feet climbed - 5240 (51,100)
Hours cycling - 7 (73-1/4)
Average speed excluding stops - 12.7 mph

Bottom comfort factor - 8
Knee pain factor - 3

Ahhhh.  Best weather day so far.  Sunny and warm, with the wind down to just a puff.

Beautiful views throughout the mountains, including views backward towards some north-facing slopes that I swear still had snow at their tops.

Four climbs, one of which was a killer:  out of Cockbridge (past another ski centre) toward Tomitoul, there is a 20%+ gradient that then gives way to  a long drag with two sizable 15% chunks in it.  Not ideal on a compact chain ring, but I managed.  It did take its toll on my legs though - sore knees and dead legs tonight.  Hoping for good recovery overnight for long day tomorrow.

Quite impressed with  Inverness - compact and attractive, with  the river at its heart.  Nice dinner overlooking said river.

My HR sensor now seems to be dead, but the rest of the computer is working fine.

22 July - Inverness to Bettyhill
Miles cycled - 99 (941)
Feet climbed - 3300 (54,400)
Hours cycling - 7 (80-1/4)
Average speed excluding stops - 14.9 mph

Bottom comfort factor - 6
Knee pain factor - 2

Found out early on that my chosen route option was actually 10 miles longer than the stated distance.  But I also learned today that the wind can be your FRIEND as well as your enemy.  It was at my back and pretty strong for most of the day - magic!

Flew all the way to Evanton and then climbed up and over then down into Bonar Bridge.  Second climb was bigger, from Invernan up to Crask - with lunch along the way in Lairg.  Needed that lunch break, as bottom was sore and body was feeling something short of strong.

Having completed the climb to Crask after lunch, I then revelled in a 30-mile(!) descent (okay, much of it was barely downhill, but that plus the wind made it extremely easy riding) that took me to within a few miles of Bettyhill.  All through gorgeous scenery.  This was the best part of the End-to-End.

Bettyhill sits above two big, beautiful beaches onthe North Sea.  Nice dinner in the hotel restaurant and banter with a couple of other guests, who can't believe I've come from Lands End.

23 July Bettyhill to John O'Groats & John-O'Groats to Thurso
Miles cycled - 69 (1010)
Feet climbed - 2980 (57,380)
Hours cycling - 5 (85-1/4)
Average speed excluding stops - 14.4 mph

Bottom comfort factor - 4
Knee pain factor - 1

I've done it!

I tried my second pair of cycling shorts today for the first time.  My bottom complained, so I added the first pair as a second layer after 40 miles!

The terrain was quite up and down, especially between Bettyhill and Thurso - much like Cornwall.

Even today's relatively short ride was a challenge, showing that the fatigue has accumulated over the trip - legs felt okay, but back and bum sore.

After photos and lunch at John O'Groats, made my way back to Thurso and checked into B&B.  Time for a stroll around town.  Even had a beer with my mediocre dinner at a hotel.

24 July
First train departed Thurso at 06:50.   This and the subsequent ones from Inverness and Edinburgh all went well - got the bike in no problems.

J picked me up at Kings Cross and delivered me home  before 20:30 - bike and rider in one piece.  Great to be back.  P and the boys have hung up a big map of Britain on which they've charted my progress.  Looks like a bloody big trip laid out all together like that!

The Bike

A big well done to my Specialized Roubaix bike.   Not a single mechanical problem the entire trip.  I never even had to top up the tyre pressure, let alone use my spare tyre, 4 spare tubes, 2 spare spokes or my chain tool.

My only maintenance was to wipe off and re-lube the chain every couple of days.

The Gear

Aside from a spare tube, a multi-tool and tyre levers, which I carried, as I always do, in my tiny under-saddle bag, all the rest of my gear was either in a Topeak bag on a matching Topeak seatpost rack or in an Altura bar bag on front.

Here's what I carried:
(Wear) - 1 shorts, 1 jersey, 1 base layer gloves, helmet, glasses, 1 socks, cycling shoes, HRM
(On bike) - 2 bottles, pump, 1 tube, multi-tool, leathermans, repair kit, tyre levers, 2 spare spokes
(In Bags)
- 1 rain cover for bag
- 1 shorts
- arm warmers
- leg warmers
- 1 medium jacket
- 1 light jacket
- 1 clam diggers (for evenings)
- 1 shirt (for evening)
- 2 pr socks
- 1 pr overshoes
- Navigation documents (in waterproof case)
- Phone + charger
- Camera + charger
- 1 lock
- Toiletries (tbrush, tpaste, razor, assos cream, glucosamine, fish oil, brufen, deodorant, suncream)
- 1 tyre
- 3 tubes
- Chain lube
- Maintenance kit

The items in red above were critical for the whole second half of the trip, and they only entered my packing list 2 days before I started!

Navigation

The CTC directions and highlighted atlas pages worked great.  The bar bag I used had a map case on its lid, so the directions and map were always right there in front of me.  Since it was waterproof, they stayed dry as well.

These resources were sufficient in about 80% of cases, but in the other 20%, I had to resort to the very un-male practice of asking people for directions / help to make sure I was heading the right way!  Don't let your pride come between you and your destination.

Accomodation

I set up my accomodation for every night in advance.  Each day, about 2 hours before arrival, I would ring ahead to check that the arrival time was okay and to ask them for specific directions to their place.  This worked really well, and they appreciated the call as well.   Here's where I stayed.  I can recommend each of them:

1 - Bude: Tee-Side Guest House, 2 Burn View, BUDE, Cornwall, EX23 8BY; 01288 352 351
2 - Bridgwater: Admirals Rest Guest House, 5 Taunton Road, BRIDGWATER, Somerset TA6 3LW; 01278 458 580
3 - Monmouth: Tresco, Redbrook, MONMOUTH, Monmouthshire, NP25 4LY; 01600 712 325
4 - MARKET DRAYTON: Crofton B&B, 80 Rowan Road; 01630 655 484
5 - BASHALL EAVES: HODDER HOUSE B&B Tel: 01254 826328
6 - CASTLE CARROCK: Gelt Hall Farm, Castle Carrock, Brampton, Cumbria, CA8 9LT - 01228 670260‎
7 - INNERLEITHEN: Caddon View Guest House, 14 Pim Road, INNERLEITHEN, 01896 830 208
8 - BANKFOOT: The Bankfoot Inn, Main Street, Bankfoot, Perthshire PH1 4AB; 01738 787 243
9 - BRAEMAR: Morningside, Kindrochit Drive, BRAEMAR, Aberdeenshire; 01339 741 370
10 - INVERNESS:Westbourne‎ 50 Huntly St, Inverness, Inverness-Shire, IV3 5HS - 01463 220700
‎11 - BETTYHILL: Bettyhill Hotel, Sutherland KW14 7SP, 01641 521 352
12 - THURSO: Waterside House, 3 Janet Street, Thurso, Caithness KW14 7AR, Tel (01847) 894751, email :  waterside.house-support@btinternet.com

Life lesson

Some things (and most big or difficult things) take time and persistent effort.  This in turn takes patience and willingness to defer the ultimate gratification of successful completion while you put in the work to bring it about.  In these cases, frantic, explosive effort is not only useless but quite probably conterproductive.

J pointed this out to me in the context of canal boating.  When boating with him a few years ago, I was on shore pushing the bow of the boat out into the stream from the bank.  I was pushing with all my might, straining my legs and back to get this huge thing to move quickly.

J showed me that no amount of force I was capable of applying would get that canal boat to move quickly.  He added, though, that since it was virtually frictionless in the water, the steady application of a bit of force for a longer period (say 10 seconds) would, as sure as anything, get it to move eventually. (Refer to you F=ma lesson from elementary physics.)  Throwing out my back or popping knee was useless.  Just lean against it for a bit.

Each leg of this ride was a bit like that, as was the overall ride itself.  Although I always enjoyed the scenery and the action of cycling through the countyside, I ofter found myself just wanted to be at the next destination.  Consciously or not, I would increase my work rate and (marginally) increase my rate of advance.  But the increased work taxed my body and was unsustainable.  And with the lengths involved in this trip, the bursts made no grade impact on my arrival time at any intermediate or the ultimate destination.

Patience is not a virtue that resides happily in me, but when I could harness it and simply relax into a smooth spin of the pedals (the biking equivalent to leaning against that canal boat) recognising that 7-8 hours of consistent cycling is what it takes to complete each day, I had a more enjoyable ride.  And I also kept myself in fighting shape for the following days, rather than breaking my body.  Patience to defer gratification and persistence in applying myself to the matter at hand brought the result.

This isn't to discount the value of decisive action.  On the road, I several times altered the route, took addional water / food stops (or in one case blew through lunch), but none of this changed the fact that steady work was needed to reach the destination.

Good luck on your own End-to-End!

Mont Ventoux

In early July (on the first day of this year's Tour de France), I went on my first Trabail VC tour.  There were nine of us on tour to the Vaucluse this year, with several of the  veterans from previous years missing for various reasons.  We based ourselves in the hamlet of Trabail, near Gordes and Rousillon (see my earlier post about being introduced to cycling here).   This year was to be special, because rather than climbing the famous Mont Ventoux only once, we were aiming to climb up it via three different routes over our three full days there.  Our mantra was 'Three days, three ways!'

The scale of this challenge for 9 forty-somethings may  not be apparent to the casual reader.  Mont Ventoux, aka the Giant of Provence stands head and shoulders above all around it.  At 1910 metres high, it doesn't rival the Alps to the east, but because its base is so low (details below), the vertical ascent rivals the biggest climbs in Europe.  It is also very, and nearly unremittingly, steep.  All of this explains why Lance Armstrong, who raced up the Ventoux in two Tours de France as well as in the Dauphine Libere, says the Ventoux (from Bedouin) is the hardest climb in Europe.  The British cyclist Tom Simpson collapsed, still clipped into his pedals, and died of heat exhaustion when racing up Ventoux in 1967.  There is a monument to him there today, just below the summit.

Anyway, the main group (there had been two in an advance party and two others joining after riding the insane La Marmotte) arrived at the Avignon TGV station Saturday afternoon, assembled our bikes and rode about 50 km to 'base camp'.  Serious drinking and trash-talking ensued (altough I'm told the drinking has been much heavier in previous years, when the spectre of multiple Ventoux ascents wasn't hanging over the group).

It really is a great group of guys - all good cyclists with good livers and senses of humour.  Throughout the tour, we had a great mix of riding, good food, liberal drink and relaxation from the busy lives back in the UK.

Our club kit this year was pink.  Now Jan Ullrich got away with this no problem with his T-Mobile team, but none of us is Jan Ullrich.  Actually, the French public responded very well to our kit, cheering us on during our climbs and being very friendly.

On Sunday, we headed up through a beautiful gorge before descending into Sault, from which we would launch into the easiest ascent route on the Ventoux.  Sault sits at about 690 metres, and the climb would rise another 1220 m over 26 kilometres - not a steep average gradient.  Aside from having to stop for a wee (we had enjoyed a beer in Sault), I found the climb up to Chalet Reynard (above which the mountain is only bare limestone - no trees) easy and enjoyable.  I must say that I found the final bit very challenging, wondering from time to time whether I could keep the pedals turning over the much steeper slope.

Ventoux is known for extreme weather, with winds recorded at nearly 200 mph, baking heat on some days (like when Simpson died) and violent storms on others.  As I approached the top, one of those violent storms blew in.  The wind was whipping and rain was belting down.  Just a few metres shy of the summit, my glasses were blown right off - luckily I retrieved them.  Having been the second to reach the top, I joined Mads for a quick handshake.  Jeremy joined us shortly and we all moved quickly to descend as the rain turned to pea-size hail that pelted us quite painfully.  My arms and legs were numb, and I doubted for a couple brief moments whether I would make it back of the mountain, as lightning flashed around us.  We and the others made it back to Chalet Reynard, where we all cowered through lunch and hot chocolates, gradually thawing out.  By the time we got back on the bikes for the remaining descent to Sault and further trip back to Trabail, the weather was fine - thank goodness!  (In case it's not obvious, all of the sunny snaps you see were taken on Saturday and Monday!).

That first full day's ride covered 110 km and included 2015 m of ascent.  Our ride on Monday would take the route via Malaucent, one which only one of the group had done before.  Malaucent lies at 340 metres, so the climb would be 1570 m over 22 km - a much tougher gradient.  This climb had a couple of long stretches with inclines that seemed they would never end.  Watching my heart rate and noting that I was spending long periods with it above 160, I would round each turn hoping to see some softening of the slope, only to see another long steep section ahead.  Still, I managed to maintain a rhythm, grinding along in my lowest gear (34 / 27) most of the time, but occasionally popping up a gear or two and standing up on the pedals for 20-30 revolutions.

A short flattish bit did eventually appear.  Having enjoyed that, it was then just a series of hairpins up a steep wall (300 m vertical) to go.  This time, I was first to the top, and I can tell you I was very pleased to pull into the parking lot of the weather station.  Once we all assembled atop the mountain, it was down to Chalet Reynard for lunch, then home via Sault (always the route back).  This ride covered 120 km and climbed 2460 m.

Tuesday saw us set off for the most difficult climb via Bedouin, which lies a bit lower than Malaucent and therefore presents the toughest average gradient.  Having climbed the Col de Mur and stopped for a wee break at the top, group discussion broke out, from which emerged the decision to trade off the final climb of Ventoux for a leisurely ride through Gordes to Goult for a lovely lunch before carrying on to Roussillon to watch the Tour de France in a cafe over beers!  So we still got in some good riding, but we turned away from the 'Three days, three ways" objective for a more balanced overall tour.

On Wednesday, the cycle back to Avignon and trip back to London went smoothly, so we all now look forward to next year, with the return of this year's absent friends.

Hop Kiln sessions

Midlife Crisis spent a June weekend in Hampshire at Earth Terminal studio, set in a beautiful old Hop Kiln.  The setting was inspirational, and the experience was both fun and educational.

After a couple of hours of setting up equipment, we got to work laying down the rhytm section tracks for our 6 songs.  Toby (drums), David T. (bass) and David B. (rhythm guitar) played together as a single track.  The singer (different people for different songs, as you'll hear) accompanied them, but only into their earpieces, not the recording mikes.  This was to help them keep track of where they were in the song and maintain the overall feel of the piece.  This step in the process takes a lot of work.  This was especially true for us, as it was our first session recording together and the first time we had really played to a click track (which keeps the drummer on a metronomic tempo and subsequently makes the later editing much easier. 

That editing itself was a very involved process, as Lewis, the studio owner and thankfully perfectionist sound engineer cut and pasted among multiple takes to get all the best bits put together into one piece, then tidied things up further by moving any notes that were slightly out of time.  This was the first eye opener for us of the immense value of the engineering side of things.  Having started recording around 12:00, this took us into the evening.

One of the odd things (as compared to when we usually get together for rehearsals, gigs, etc) is that since the entire band was never assembled at any one time, people had lots of  'down time'Those of us not involved in the rhythm section either sang as called upon to do so, observered proceedings from the viewpoint of the engineer's loft or lazed about in the lounge or outside, enjoying the break from our normal London lives.

In the evening, we started the 'layering' process of adding the lead and backup vocals and instruments - violin, lead & further guitars and trumpet.  We wrapped up for the evening around 10:00 and strolled through the fields into the village of Odiham for a drink and 'post-match' analysis.

We were all bathed in a glow of artistic genius, and there was a lotta love around the table!  In bed by midnight (at least in my case).  A lovely open air market in Odiham was worth a wander before we strolled back up past the poppies to the Hop Kiln to complete the adornment of our six songs.

Each piece took on its own personality as we pulled it together. 
Go Your Own Way was a bear, with really tough rhythm foundation, vocal harmonies and big guitar solos.
Sorrow required multiple layers of violin, giving string harmony and punctuating 'stabs'.  David B. provided both vocals and trumpet.
Sweetest Feeling saw Karen's voice multiplied into a Motown clutch of singing beauties as Lewis multi-tracked here backing vocals.
Our own See This brought together three voices and a funky baseline (around which everything else was built).

Creep was hauntingly clean in one sense with the stripped-down three piece done as one track.  Then over-top that we laid mean electric guitar, with Ian borrowing a belter from Lewis to do the trick.

Diamonds just dripped class as it came together, with Karen giving Shirley a run for her money!

By the time we'd got all the inputs laid down, Lewis was a bit-short-changed for time to mix and master.  We literally ran out of time as we realised that if we didn't leave, we would miss the last London public transport options and not get home.  Having listened to each mix with Lewis, we left him to the final step and headed back to town.  As it was, Toby still had to crash at my place.

We got the songs in the next couple of days and are all very happy with the outcomes.  Having these recordings makes us feel (rightly or wrongly!) more like a 'real' band.

Here are the end results:

I Get The Sweetest Feeling

Sorrow

Creep

See This

Go Your Own Way

Diamonds Are Forever

Friday Night Ride to the Coast

Last Friday, my friend Babu and I went on our first night time bike ride.  With extra lights, spare batteries and more than a few nerves, we made our way to Hyde Park Corner, where a peleton of about 30 riders set off at just past midnight for Brighton, roughly 60 miles away.

There's a group who do this every month, on the Friday closest to the full moon.  I first heard about the ride in this Guardian article and subsequently found that a work colleague had done it last month.

We didn't have the best luck with the weather this month - I swear I was borderline hypothermic as we sped downhill from the Beacon into Brighton.  Still, it was a super bunch of cyclists, and the bacon sarnie at 3:00 am was a real lifter.  The ride was incredibly well organised, so well done Simon and crew.

It is a fun experience to cruise what would in normal hours be very busy roads.  The group stayed together pretty well, and we pulled into Brighton a bit past 7:00 a.m. on Saturday. Too cold and wet to think of anything other than getting home to a hot shower, we made straight for the train station and a smooth trip home.

My family gave me some slack for a three-hour kip before steaming into the day.  I then went to bed at 6:00 Saturday night, sleeping 12 hours before waking refreshed Sunday morning.

Babu is a little worse for wear, having not ridden a bike for years.  An admirable performance to just hop on and do 60 miles (with a few hills, including the steeply-pitched 'Beacon' just before our destination).  His poor bottom didn't take well to his saddle, and he's only now comfortable sitting again.

You can see what the other riders had to say about this FNRttC at Another Cycling Forum.

Slumber for health

Keen to remain true to the slumberfogey ethos, I wanted to share this helpful napping guide I found at the Boston Globe site.

Sleeping is what I do best.  With sufficient dedication and willingness to put in the hard practice hours, you too can achieve elite slumber status.

Enjoy.

Tour of Wessex

I set off on with three weekend riding mates Sunday morning in cold rain on wet and dirty roads for the second stage of the three-stage Tour of Wessex.

You can see the route here.

The route covered 103 miles (my first century!) and ascended 2250 meters, heading south from Castle Cary to the coast at Lulworth before circling by Corfe Castle and back northward to Castle Cary.

Even in the grey mist, you could tell that we were rolling through some beautiful countryside.  On a sunny day, I'm sure it would have been stunning.

Geoff and I had driven to the start point from our camp site near Corfe Castle at the route's apex that morning, and we commented on the daunting fact that we would cycle twice the distance of that hour-and-a-half drive.  

We had loaded up with pasta the evening before and topped up with crunchy nut cornflakes outside our tents that morning.  Knowing we'd be spending the whole day on the road, I was carrying 3000 calories and more than £10 worth of sickly sweet sport nutrition in the pockets of my jersey.  That, plus the three feed stops generously provided along the route, saw me through the trip.  A welcome savoury egg & bacon sandwich and a half tube of salty Pringles after the ride kicked off my recovery in less than classic style.

As you might expect from the overall ascent involved, the course was a very rolling up and down one, with only one real stretch of flat only a tank training area leading up to the second food stop.  All in all, the climbs far outweighed any wind in taxing our legs.

I don't have a GPS, but my bike computer does have a primitive altimeter based on barometric pressure, so I have this approximate profile for the route.  I lost about 20 km of recording by forget to restart my computer after a couple of stops.
As for the organisation of the sportive, I don't have a lot of experience to draw on for comparison, but the route was well signed, the food stops well stocked and manned with friendly volunteers and there was motorcycle support at dangerous crossroads.  The motorcycles carried tyres, tubes, etc as well for free mechanical support.  (Last year, one of my mates made good use of it, battling through SEVEN punctures!).

It was a good day of riding, notwithstanding the rain washed and messy roads.

Allez!

Iain Banks

In case it's not obvious from his frequent appearances in my recent reads list, I think Iain Banks rocks.
Check out his Science Fiction, which he writes under the name Iain M. Banks or his dark non-genre fiction.
I particularly recommend Excession, Use of Weapons, Against a Dark Background and The Bridge.

Hard Work and Meaning

Yesterday I came across two related posts about our working lives. 

The first was this Forbes report ranking the OECD countries from hardest to most leisurely workers, based on average annual hours worked.  The South Koreans came 'top' in one sense, working on average 2357 hours a year.  The Dutch came 'top' in my book, working 1391 hours per year on average.

My country of birth, the USA, is the 9th hardest working, at 1797 hours per year; my adopted country, the UK, is the 20th hardest working among the 32 OECD states, with its long work week being largely offset by its 20 days of vacation a year.

The article shares a soul-numbing story of the life of an 'average' Korean worker, which makes me feel bad for them, as they seem to have no life at all.

To be honest, from what I've seen even in the relatively slack UK, managers and professionals have virtually no time away from work - especially if you take into consideration the lengthy commutes workers in London face.  (This may well be true of other workers, I just don't have the same direct experience there.)

A second article, by Lucy Kellaway in the BBC News Magazine examines our ever-more-desperate search for meaning in our work.  It seems that success, money and advancement are not enough.  We want to feel that our efforts have a purpose, and this seems to be more true today than 10  or 20 years ago.

Madeleine Bunting tells us why this is so, and why it is connected to the hard work covered by Forbes, in her book, Willing Slaves.  Many of us are spending more time at work, taking more time to get to and from work and bringing more work home than our parents did.  We are also being driven to greater levels of efficiency at work and being asked for greater levels of emotional commitment to work than they were.

As our roles as productive agents in the economy crowd out our roles with family, friends and community, as we find less time for hobbies, volunteering and recreation, we are - counter-productively - seeking meaning in the only activity of any scale left in our time portfolio, WORK.

Why do I say that this 'eggs in one basket' search for meaning through work is counter-productive?  Perhaps I should first say that it is RISKY.  This is not only because risk is mitigated by spreading our investments (hopes, wishes, bets) across a portfolio of vehicles but also because work is an area of our lives where most of us have relatively little control.  The company is bought by a competitor, and our job is a 'synergy' to be 'captured'.  Profits are tight, so costs, including the project we've been working on for 4 months, must be cut.  A re-organisation shifts our team or our responsibilities.  The boss takes exception to our questioning her decision.

I'm not saying we should wish for a utopia in which these things don't happen.  We have to live in the real world.  I'm just saying that our work is a relatively rickety boat on stormy seas and therefore not the best vehicle to carry all our hopes for meaning in our lives.  As with other investments, it is far less risky to pursue life meaning through a portfolio of activities rather than through one.  And even if you were to pick one, work is probably not the best.

Which brings us back to the point about the counter productivity of looking at work as the source for life meaning and self esteem.  For most, vesting oneself too completely in work is counter productive because we and those to whom we answer are human.  Their humanity means that, as they are squeezed by their boss, the market, the taxpayers, falling donor funding, etc, they will grasp and pull any lever they can to get us to sacrifice our own well-being for the good of the company, the department, the team.  Our humanity means that our uni-dimensional hope for meaning and self esteem from our work constitutes a tactical weakness and offers just such a lever for our bosses to manipulate to some collective end.

Please don't think that I'm saying these people are evil.  I'm just saying that they too are subject to pressures and that they will do what they can to meet the ever-stretching targets they are set.  The more single minded they are, the more completely they place their hope for life meaning in their own work, the more this is true.

I'm also not saying that we should not commit ourselves to joint efforts.  Failing to do so would lead us to very lonely lives.  Teamwork and community effort are very important, but they are not on offer only through paid work.

So how do we break out of this?  We need to spend longer hours at work to succeed.  These longer hours cannibalise the time we might otherwise spend with friends & family, in sport & fitness, in community service, in creative endeavour.  As those activities slip by the wayside, we find that work is the only game in town.  Rather than sink into a nihilistic funk, believing that nothing matters, we quite naturally look for meaning, fulfillment, self definition through the one activity we have at any sort of scale - our work.  Where is the escape route from this downward spiral?

I believe it is in drawing a line at work at the point that ensures there is enough of us left for the other activities and relationships that enrich our lives.  'Easier send than done,' I hear you say.  So let's look at the impediments:

• Some are struggling at a very basic level of subsistence and don't have the luxury of taking stands at work.  For them, work is about survival and basic comforts, not about self actualisation and meaning.  Granted.
• We care about succeeding.  Standards are high in today's labour market, and if we don't throw our full selves into our jobs, we won't keep up with the best, and we'll be, at best, average.  We can't pretend that life doesn't involve trade-offs, but they are sometimes not as stark as we think.  Finding ways to contribute the most possible within the boundaries you set may well leave you doing more than just keeping up.  Even if you end up being less successful at work, that can be more than offset by your success and contribution in other areas of your life.
• But the other areas of my life don't put food on the table or buy me the nice things I want.  As I granted in the first bullet point above, putting food on the table, keeping a roof above your head, providing security for your family must come first.  However, when we move beyond these and a further layer of modern 'needs', we need to ask ourselves how important our further material desires really are.  And why are they important?  Because other people have them - nice cars, holidays to Spanish resorts, plasma screen TVs?  Look, you can make your life choices however you want, I'm just prompting you to make them in a considered way, rather than thoughtlessly slogging along on the treadmill.  Many people with all those great toys find themselves with no time to use them, and they still 'hunger' for the next toy in a never-ending expansion of wants.  Anyway, more on this in another post, I think.
  

My thesis is that we are more than economic agents - production units and consumers.  We are family members, friends, citizens, community members, club leaders, bodies in need of exercise, inquisitive and curious travellers and students of new things.  We can find meaning through all of these roles.  We can make valuable contributions on multiple fronts in our lives.  We can take pride in the parts (sometimes supporting cast rather than lead roles) we play on many stages.

Let's not unthinkingly accept work as the only game in town just because the ever-pressing needs of economic growth and efficiency ratchet up the demands in our work lives.  Remember, markets are two-sided, and if enough of us vote with our feet in favour of a more balanced life, the market will move with us.

On yer bike!

Last summer, while staying with friends in Provence, I caught the cycling bug.  Having lived on my bike as a kid, having enjoyed trail riding in Germany, Virginia and California and having taken great pleasure in introducing my sons to the joys of cycling, I took to the road.

Geoff, who keeps one road bike in Provence and another in London, invited me on on a few rides with him in the Provencal hills around Gordes and Roussillon. 

View Larger Map

  He, on his ultra-slick Bianchi and in his lycra cycling kit led me, riding his father-in-law's simple recreational bike, tourist shorts and Birkenstock sandals, through the summer heat and around the charming countryside.

Narrowly avoiding cardiac arrest and heat stroke, I just about maintained my dignity, only once being overtaken by a French septuagenarian.  I was amazed that we could just nip out and do 20 or 25 miles like that, having never cycled more than 10 or so before.  It was also great feeling the wind in my hair - or at least where my hair used to be - as we whistled downhill.  It had the feel of justice after investing so much effort climbing a hill to get a break and a thrill on the other side, something hiking doesn't give in the same way.

Having got some tips from Geoff on what to look for in a road bike, I went along to Sigma Sport when I got back to London and picked up a Specialized Roubaix Elite (for much more money than I thought it was possible to spend on something without an engine or a dining room).  It cost more than my Vespa did several years ago!  But isn't it beautiful?!?!

I was getting some decent weekend riding in in the autumn and the run up to the holidays, but it wasn't until after a dropped another eye-watering sum on a heart rate monitor / bike computer that I really dived fully into a training regime.  The ability to record time, distance (and thereby speed), cadence, heart rate and elevation and then see them all layed out in nifty graphs after syncing the wrist unit with my computer so appealed to the geek in me that I couldn't wait to get out and do the next ride.

My work travel schedule has sometimes gotten in the way of my training, but a silver lining is that every time I pass through Heathrow, I pick up one or two cycling magazines, which helps further fuel my ever-so-male obsession with my new-found hobby.  I now know who the big names are in Astana, why the team is barred from the Tour de France, who the Lion King is, why Tom Boonen doesn't like going out in public in his home country and many other totally useless but fun facts about the cycling world.

Unfortunately, my gung-ho pursuit of record fitness levels and all things cycling has led me to slightly overdo things on the training front, and my poor feeble body has crumpled a bit under the training load I've imposed on it.  I'm in the middle of what looks like 2 weeks off the bike to rest stressed-out knees and get started on a physio regime to keep from hurting myself again.

Look forward to reports back from my attempt at Stage 2 of the Tour of Wessex and the event of the year and peak of my cycling season, the Trabail VC Provencal Tour (back down where my Birkenstock rides with Geoff kicked all this off).

Two new accoustics

Here are my recent recordings of Terra Naomi's "Say It's Possible" and The Plain White T's "Hey There Dehlila".

Hey There Delilah

Say It's Possible