Just spent 45 happy minutes in heavy rain, cleaning off the grit and sand of yesterday but, taking on such a mundane chore has allowed by thoughts to coalesce as follows:
- realising that I was, at least nominally, leading the ride I turned up at 7.30 a.m. to an empty car park. When I returned at 9 a.m. the car park was filling rapidly and bits of old steel, and they were mostly old steel, were being unloaded.
- a splendid mix of familiar and new faces.
- attempting to herd 40 + Retrobikers, many of whom were wearing loose fluro lycra, baggy not because the rider was slimmer but because, over the years, it had lost it's elasticity.
- taking the ' by any means necessary' racing line down a hillside to be met by jeers of derision.
- being let down by my uncanny, almost compass like sense of direction but not being fazed by the apparent contradiction of leading a ride from the back and getting 'lost' at a popular and clearly waymarked trail centre.
- with Marc sensibly acting as chaperone, the 'special time' I enjoyed with Paul. No matter what happens in the future big fella, we'll always have the Monkey Trail.
- the heady post ride combination of cheese, rocket and caramelised red onion tartlets and top quality foaming ale.
- the even headier flea market, with boxes of assorted tat being produced with bewildering frequency. Old ladies at a rummage sale had nothing on us and I'm ashamed to say that I threw a few elbows.
- the discovery that Shimano predicted the 29er craze at least a decade early with the uber rare 400CX gruppo.
- the look on Paul's face when he purchased an STX-RC chainset for a princely sum (rather reminded me of his expression earlier on the ride when I said "don't worry, I've got your back").
- the post-ride chatter that lasted as long as the ride itself.
So, many thanks to all for coming and look forward to meeting up again at HoNC (mid April) and at the next National Meet in the Forest of Dean in mid May (bugger, I think I'm organising, in the loosest sense of the word, that one too) - watch out for the ride thread a little nearer the time.
Don't go chasing waterfalls
Ed
- realising that I was, at least nominally, leading the ride I turned up at 7.30 a.m. to an empty car park. When I returned at 9 a.m. the car park was filling rapidly and bits of old steel, and they were mostly old steel, were being unloaded.
- a splendid mix of familiar and new faces.
- attempting to herd 40 + Retrobikers, many of whom were wearing loose fluro lycra, baggy not because the rider was slimmer but because, over the years, it had lost it's elasticity.
- taking the ' by any means necessary' racing line down a hillside to be met by jeers of derision.
- being let down by my uncanny, almost compass like sense of direction but not being fazed by the apparent contradiction of leading a ride from the back and getting 'lost' at a popular and clearly waymarked trail centre.
- with Marc sensibly acting as chaperone, the 'special time' I enjoyed with Paul. No matter what happens in the future big fella, we'll always have the Monkey Trail.
- the heady post ride combination of cheese, rocket and caramelised red onion tartlets and top quality foaming ale.
- the even headier flea market, with boxes of assorted tat being produced with bewildering frequency. Old ladies at a rummage sale had nothing on us and I'm ashamed to say that I threw a few elbows.
- the discovery that Shimano predicted the 29er craze at least a decade early with the uber rare 400CX gruppo.
- the look on Paul's face when he purchased an STX-RC chainset for a princely sum (rather reminded me of his expression earlier on the ride when I said "don't worry, I've got your back").
- the post-ride chatter that lasted as long as the ride itself.
So, many thanks to all for coming and look forward to meeting up again at HoNC (mid April) and at the next National Meet in the Forest of Dean in mid May (bugger, I think I'm organising, in the loosest sense of the word, that one too) - watch out for the ride thread a little nearer the time.
Don't go chasing waterfalls
Ed
