Privilege

It's so easy to forget how privileged we are to be cyclists. We get to see the world and explore places in a way that a majority of the population don't. I was reminded of this on a recent trip to Rio de Janeiro in Brazil.

I spent most of my holiday riding about: along the beaches, through the city and up into Tijuca National Park. The views were stunning, the experience indescribable. Then one day I caught a minibus up to Christ the Redeemer in the National Park. On the way up, passengers were tripping over themselves to take photos of the amazing views over the city - Maracana stadium, Pao de Acucar, Copacabana etc it really is a stunning city.

I, however, had no interest in taking these photos through minibus windows, because I already had them all. My previous few days had been spent riding from Copacabana up in to the National Park via the Vista Chinesa along Cristo Redentor and generally hanging out in the sunshine, enjoying the views and just taking it easy. The numerous jeep tours and minibuses passing by hadn't escaped me though. But the realisation of this didn't dawn on me until I was in one of the aforementioned minibuses.

People who don't ride have two transport options: foot or vehicle. And for Tijuca National Park, being too far to venture for most on foot, the only option a tourist is to go by vehicle where the route, speed and stopping points are completely out of their control. They don't get to experience the sweat of the climb, the glimpse of the race course through the trees, the pull in at the hairpin, and the world going by at an appreciable rate.

All of this, I take for granted. Exploring a new city or country on a bike is the obvious and simple thing to do. So it's easy to miss all the things that we see, and the rest of the world doesn't. We appreciate the world around us because we travel at a speed that allows us to see enough of it in one day to feel like we're discovering things, but that speed also allows us to 'see' that world. It's quite remarkable really.

So next time you're on holiday, riding about on your bike, just remember all those poor tourists who don't get to see beyond a couple of miles of the city they're in, or who are in a vehicle with the world speeding by at a pace they can't appreciate; and smile, knowing that as a cyclist, we are the privileged ones. We experience and see and feel and hear the world in a way so many others don't, and all because we ride bikes. We are the lucky ones.

Reaching for the Skye

The original plan was a 9 day bike-packing trip to the Isle of Skye, what actually happened after a two hour drive through torrential rain on a Friday evening with darkening skies and blustering winds, was a last minute self-catering cottage booked for a week.

And so it began. All change. A quick trip into Fort William to purchase suitable footwear - packing for a week of cycling is quite different to a week of walking but I refused to buy anything more than a new pair of Salomon trainers as I have a house full to overflowing with walking gear, even if it was 400 miles away!

View over Portree from the cottage

This was only the second of the annual 'trips with friends' we'd planned all those years ago in Aviemore - me, Steve M and Chris G. The first one to Anglesey was a few years in the making and then there has been a gap of another 4 or 5 years so we're actually working on two a decade. But considering the amount we drink on these trips, that might well be a good thing.

The two bedroom self-catering cottage, Mountain View, just outside Portree couldn't have been more perfect. It had everything needed for a comfortable week including stunning views in all directions. Mornings started with a quick look outside to check the sunrise and every evening half an eye was kept on sunsets and cloud formations. Low cloud and rainbows were also a feature, as was the resident hare.

Each day was different with hill walks, beach trips, distillery tours, castle visits and the odd ride here and there. Despite the bad weather on some days we still managed to get out and about - bad weather equals moody skies and great photos remember. Although I'm not so sure the trip to the most westerly part of the island, Nieste Point, on a day with 70mph winds was such a good idea as I couldn't actually hold the camera still enough to get a sharp shot!

Fortunately for me, Steve Makin is a professional standard photographer and if you're going to be stuck on a dramatic isle for a week at the changing of the seasons, there's really nobody better. We'd be driving somewhere, one of us would spot a shot, get out, take some photos and jump back in; only to repeat the same actions a few miles down the road when another glorious view appeared. Evenings were spent reviewing the 100 or so photos taken each day, and drinking a formidable amount of alcohol. On a good day I'm as quick as Steve on a bike, on some days I'm as enthusiastic as he is about riding, unfortunately I'll never be as good as him at taking photos.

Another incredible week with one of my closest friends and a great way to relax after such a busy summer. Just what I needed: an old friendship strengthened, new friendships made, new places explored, a hobby encouraged, knowledge gained and a change of perspective in many ways.

The full photo gallery is available on my flickr page. And to see how it can be done, Steve's flickr gallery is here.

My New Life

Every now and again an opportunity comes along, completely out of the blue, that you just have to grab hold of with both hands and be prepared for whatever changes may occur. That happened to me in November.

I've been plodding along in my television career for over a decade and have become accustomed to the shift work, endless time off and very good money. It has allowed me to do pretty much whatever I want, including setting up my own events business and travelling a lot. Then a job came up with the CTC that really couldn't be more different.

In simple terms, it's practically my dream job. If somebody asked me what I want out of life the phrases "work from home", "have time to ride my bike", "earn a decent wage", "do something I love", "be involved in cycling" would all come up. So when a job that covers all of those suddenly appears it's almost too good to be true. Throw in "work on your doorstep in the Chilterns" and I found I had to keep pinching myself to make sure it was real. How can a job like this actually exist?

But it does exist. It is real. And it's my job, at least it will be from Monday 28th January. I'm so excited it takes my breath away. I will be the Senior Development Officer for the Chilterns Sustainable Gateways Project. Basically, I get to develop cycling in the Chilterns. My job is to get people riding bikes.

I feel like I'm standing at the gates of a new world with no road in front of me, just endless possibilities and new opportunities. A world of excitement and potential. I actually get to try and do what I've been wanting to do for, well, forever really. And it's mind blowing. It literally makes me shriek with excitement. And not just the job either but what it means for me and my life. I have just 5 days to the start of a brand new world and a new way of life; anything could happen.

A Big Welsh Day

Big views. Big hills. And for the first time properly, big wheels. It's been a long time since I rode a bike in the Brecon Beacons, probably almost 10 years. During that time I've spent a lot of time walking in the area (see 'mountain walks' label) and have spotted numerous paths and trails that have prompted the phrase "this would be an ace trail to ride"; A phrase common to mountain bikers and yet seeminly rare and incomprehensible to normal people.

One such trail is the bridleway from Y Das to Grwyne Fawr Reservoir - a rock strewn double track that gentle descends down the valley to the dam.

So finding myself in South Wales on a gloriously sunny March morning, there was only one thing on my mind, to ride that trail. Throw into the equation the official MTB route guides for the Brecon Beacons I'd bought many years before and never used, add the excitement of getting to play on my new favourite toy, a Giant Anthem X 29er, for the first time, and it was panning out to be a big day in the saddle.


I'd decided I was going to do a combination of the black and red routes that were based around Talgarth, adjusting them to my tastes. Off I went from Mynydd Du car park and immediately started climbing up through the forest and out onto the open hillsides high above Crickhowell. Brecon Beacon's riding generaly falls into three categories: 1) long and grassy, 2) a mud slog, or 3) steep and rocky. This route wasn't going to disappoint on any front. But no matter where I was or what I was riding on, the Giant 29er, (let's call him 'Anontio' for future reference, all of my other bikes have names so I don't want Antonio to feel left out during his short stay) just kept rolling, and very quickly: quick on the climbs, nimble through the rocks, ate up the fireroad miles and ploughed on through down all of the descents. It was proving hard to find fault with him.

Soon, much of the scenery became familiar as I trundled through BBMC country and realised exactly what was ahead. In complete opposition to the ultimate goal of this ride, the long, grass climb out of the valley floor up towards Pen Trumau ranks high on my list of 'trails I have no inclination to ever ride.' But at least I was rewarded with a view for once, something I've never seen on the BBMC. And then there was a nice little surprise in store for me.



Straight over the hill and down the other side towards Grafog I stumbled upon a lovely looking rock gully - the perfect test for Antonio and the confidence he had instilled in me. Half way down it started to go horribly wrong and an inevitable over-the-bars moment would have occurred had it not been for the unstoppable roll-ability of this bike, resulting in a rather stylish, slow-motion 'step off the back' dismount worthy of any stunt show.

Composed and on my way once more there was more testing terrain ahead. Considering the rather slick looking design of the tyres, the larger footprint from the 29er wheel found traction where I wouldn't expect it in the thick, muddy trails and I just kept rolling.

The final climb: Y Das. Famous for being 1000ft of unrideable, boulder strewn, rock stepped, bridleway hell. It took almost an hour to push to the top of this monster, the second time I've had to endure this nightmare but I can assure you it's the last!

So, five hours and 25 miles later I finally reached my destination: the head of Grwyne Fawr bridleway. (A mere 6km from my starting point!) And the descent didn't disappoint, neither did the Giant Anthem 29, it was a match made in heaven. The momentum of the big wheels just kept building and rocks that would have brought a normal bike to a grinding halt just flicked out from underneath me.


Job done, another one off the tick list. A beautifully big day in the hills, just me and my bike, just like the good ole days.

The Big Black Mountain Challenge

There are ideas, and then there are 'ideas'. There are silly ideas, like deciding to get on a train to Penzance one day on a whim and riding from Lands End to John O'Groats; there are stupid ideas, like going off for a ride one afternoon in Northern Californian bear country with no food or water, no map, no idea where you're going and without telling anyone; there are dangerous ideas, like riding up Snowdon in the dark at 4am on a February morning wearing lycra in a snow storm; and then there are those ideas which are just wrong. There's no excuse for them, they're just wrong.

The Big Black Mountain Challenge on Saturday was one such idea. It started off badly and just got worse. I knew it was a stupid idea - having cracked a rib just 6 days before at round 2 of the BMBS in Dalby Forest, the idea of walking 45km over the Black Mountains in South Wales probably wouldn't be high on many peoples list of convalescing activities. But there's a bigger picture to think of here, namely The Great TO DO.

So Tony and I set off on our epic walk at 8am Saturday morning. It started raining. Then it started raining harder. Then the wind picked up. Then the wind almost picked me up! Walking along the first ridge out of Llanthony was made difficult by the 60mph wind and miserable due to the torrential rain. 4 hours later the rain finally stopped - for half an hour, just enough time to dry out before the rain came again. And the wind picked up.

The day continued in this cycle of misery for nine and a half hours until with sore feet, knee pain and an aching rib it finally came to an end. I can't remember ever walking in such horrendous conditions for so long. It really was an epic day and with the exception of Tony's witty tales, comments and then hysterical laughter (see video), not one I particularly enjoyed. But it was a necessary evil for the task ahead. On The Great TO DO I'd have 5 more days of this (well, the mileage, hopefully not the weather. Please God, NOT the weather!)

It was a useful exercise though and I learnt a few important things - one such lesson is that if you have a cracked rib and try and walk 45km up and down the muddy Welsh Mountains in the pouring rain and highs winds carrying a heavy rucksack, it's going to hurt. More importantly though, is it's going to hurt more the following day. But at least I had a whole day free and lots of 8 week old Bernese Mountain Dog pups to cuddle to cheer me up.

If you want to see some great photos of this epic, or a video of just how bad it was, take a look at Tony's blog - Tales From The Rock. Oh, and feel free to buy one of the 178 miles of The Great TO DO (if you want to know more, you'll have to use the link to visit the web page - it's worth it though!)

Jambo! Mambo!

Finally back from my adventures in Africa and many a tale of success to tell. February really has been a fantastic month. It was great to ride up in Todmorden again with all the friendly old familiar faces, share a beer and generally catch up without having to type at 100wpm! Chipps's 40th birthday ride was slow and relaxed, as was expected, and made all the better for his sisters homemade coconut ice - I haven't had that since I was a child!

The cold, crisp weather highlighted the hills in all their Calderdale glory. It also meant I was freezing and the ambling pace was hardly sweat inducing. I managed a quick coffee for a final few chats before having to drive home Saturday night to catch the plane Sunday morning - I have to say leaving was quite hard. I just don't get to ride with those guys enough any more and I see CG (G as in Chris) about twice a year if I'm lucky.

But there's no better excuse to leave a group of your best mates in the whole wide world having fun and getting drunk gearing up for a hell of a session, than catching a flight to Africa to fulfill a life long ambition; as excuses go, I reckon it's a valid one.

And so to the big story: actually you'll have to wait for that as I've got hundreds of photos to sort through and the garbled ramblings of a daily hand written diary to decipher. It'll all be up on the adventures page very soon. Needless to say, it was ace! Here's a summit day taster: