Autumn Classic.

I love riding in the forest at this time of year. Some of my favourite times have been on a late autumn afternoon by my self out amongst it and today was no exception. Riding to and from the trails makes it more better also in the riding more harder department.
In order; Challenge Red Tank Rd. Direct Rd. Frontal Lobotomy Billy T G Rock Chestnut Link Roller Coaster Old Chevy about 100m of Dipper Tokorangi Pa rd. Gunna Gotta Turkish Delight Exit jumps Old exit. By Gunna Gotta all I was thinking about was cake.

Grateful Bros.United.

Damian and I took our bikes and our beards for a zany type single speed themed adventure on Sunday. On the way we collected a librarian and proceeded to tear hither and yon for the next three hours, up hill and down dale in the forest. It was a fantastic (if not so cold I could feel my bad lung)morning and come midday I was left full of regret that I had to peel off and head home so I could get to work. My days have been somewhat hermetic at present as the family are back in the old country, however I'm catching a bus up on Thursday for a wedding. I can't wait to see wife and things one and two. I've said several times on this thing that for the last 6 months I haven't had access to a car for day to day personal use. However, with the family and our only car gone I really don't have access to a car for bugger all. It's liberating and forcing a shift in mind set with planning errands etc that I'm enjoying greatly. I've rode my bike to ride a bike then ridden home to ride my other bike to work and ride home from work more than a couple of times and it's feeling great. I've kept up with the running also, today the first time that I've felt there's been any flow to the ordeal, which is cool. It actually felt..mmm..good? In closing I would like to recommend
The Bike Show .Podcasts about Kraftwerk, Rolling interviews and a refreshingly multi dimensional view of cycling culture. Yes please.

Giving it to the man

With the other members of my family travelling to the old country for the Easter break Saturday after work looked ideal to venture back onto dirt and Give it To The Man in the process. The ‘Man’ In question whom I was going to “Give it to” were in this case two men. One, an actual ‘Man’ known here as “The other Weinberg brother” (who in a parallel universe kind of way ISNT a past SS champ and gets around on an xc dual suspension bike). The other, not really a ‘Man’ at all but a mountain, Mount Ngongotaha to be exact. If it was an actual man or a metaphorical man-mountain I didn't care. Whatever the case there was going to be some giving it to going on.

As this was a casual ride I dressed appropriately and headed off towards ‘the man’ er, men. To give it to them. My first act of non conformist defiance upon arrival at our rendezvous was to immediately suffer a flat, thus holding up the ride (scheduling be damned)and showing The other Weinberg brother just how we do things one speed. Suitably patched and booted (hey, bitch..In my world UST stands for Unattached Sidewall Technology, ok?) we headed out. What followed was a pleasant spin up Mt Ngongotaha, with it's stunning vistas of the caldera (no real camera to speak of, though so no photos)we wound up and up, through farmland then into calming and cool native bush which did the job admirably of erasing the terror of my day, we carried on going until finally our destination was reached.

Now, you can imagine my excitement when the other Weinberg brother suggested riding a trail named Jubilee, right. I mean, you know..Jubilee means PAAAAAARTY, right? As gutted as I was to realize at the top that there was no actual party going on (apart from the one in my head) I was consoled by the fact that the little guy riding a bike in the picture had a line through it, so whilst not actually being a party it was illegal and even if we met no men on the way down (we didn't..ladies either for that matter) I was assured that my very act of getting rubber side down would be giving it to someone, somewhere..who was probably a man. With that cheery thought in my heart we got amongst it, what followed were 2.4km of twisty, tight, technical, rooty downhill goodness. About two thirds in the trail smoothed out some and got some more flow on and spat us out minutes later at the base of the mountain. Feeling suitably victorious in giving it to the man(mountain) the other Weinberg fellow and I headed our separate ways. I had meant to "give it to" my geared compatriot in some form or another however I couldn't bring myself to as I've known him for 10 years and the man is a Hessian. Knowing that I'd have points deducted for "colluding with/not giving it to the man" I headed off, spinning madly with my head held high, not giving a damn (which, strangely would have cancelled out the points taken off as my act of not giving a damn was giving it to the man. Even if this "Man" was the SS nation) Next time, perhaps.

This Just In: Still Chock Full of Hate.

I'm bordering on hating. No, I'm totally hating. I'm hating on how ZANY everything is getting around here.... Novelty afros and celebrating nearing 666 friends on farce borg is getting me down.... As someone quoth in the comments section the other day;

"I must say that the 'dress up and play an alternative singlespeeder for the weekend' ethos witnessed at a number of Singlespeed events shits me to tears."

I couldn't be more down with this sentiment. I'm "boring passionate" (thanks, Dad) about the single speed. Both my bikes are single speed (1x shit bike all weather commuter and 1 x rigid 9r) and I don't really have any interest in riding a bike with gears or suspension (at the moment). Do I like bikes with gears? sure. Is the Nomad a good bike? Yeah, They're mean as if you ask me...just not my cup of tea. Is this trieste potentially a means of putting off writing an essay? Damn skippy. Do I wear a Tutu when I ride my (Single speed) bike with my friends? No. DOES ANYONE I KNOW WHO RIDES A SINGLE SPEED dress up in fancy dress when they ride or race (apart from the SS champs)? No. Am I dour? No. Overly serious? No (ask anyone who knows me). Like beers? yes. Like riding a lot? yes. Like racing? Love it. Mediocre at it? at best, yes. Feel misrepresented by all the SSWC10 marketing hoopla? Yes. Hating on the event? No. Excited as all get out by it and already entered? Yes.

I guess the point is this; Reductionist or overly simplistic, one dimensional representations of groups/things/people/ideas gets me down. I was listening to Dan Carlin the other day discussing an option for the USA addressing their somewhat tenuous relationship with Iran and the causes of this relationship (Clue: the Theodore Roosevelt quote "He's a son of a bitch, but at least he's our son-of-a-bitch is particularly germane).* He said something really interesting to the effect that in keeping with perhaps apologizing for supporting a regime which some would say terrorized Iran's people for years that the USA should adopt a more self effacing and humble approach. "The elephant in the room doesn't need to tell everyone he's big, and everyone will resent him if he does" was the passage that stuck in my mind.

I think that if the elephant that is the SSWC10 stops telling everyone in the room how big (or zany) it is, the better it will be. I mean, this event is going to be amazing and I'm so excited to be part of it and racing and being around hundreds of other people from around the world all of whom love the single speed is going to be a peak for me. We'll be balls deep in zany antics I'm sure, and the costumes, beer, shenanigans and tomfoolery that will be on hand will satisfy everyone to some level. I'm hopeful that if this japery does take place (and I have no doubt it will) that it's in a natural, beer fueled (or not) manner of the like minded mob..rather than the unnatural "ZANY ZANY WOW WOW WOW, I'm-on-a-single-speed-freak-bike-just-this-once-look-at-me" manner which I'm hopeful won't permeate the event to a great extent. Yeah, that's about all I have to say on the topic and totteringly boring as it is I'm at the point that I'll explode if I don't get it off my chest..so there you have it. Rant over.

In other news,I started "cross training" today with a running program. It was pretty shit, but alright and a challenge, so we'll see where this takes me.I'm okay with copping to training (I'm just not very good at it) and am hopeful that having a riding/running thing up on the go will help when the winter series roles around. Running itself was no challenge from a cardiovascular stand point so that's good, just muscles being used differently(MENTAL PICTURE OF ME RUNNING- A starved, slavering walrus chasing a bucket of herring down a gravel road). I've commuted via bike all week which has been surprisingly pain free. The lung appears fine now, I'm off antibiotics,pneumonia free and staring down the barrel of my first off road ride on Saturday after work. I'm going to try something different and will no doubt post some shoddy photos on here after the fact.

In Closing.
I'd be really sad if anyone reading this gets up and arms because I'm ragging on the SS champs. I'm not. I just don't reckon this battleship grey, proud buttocked elephant needs to shout "I'M A BIG, ZANY MOTHERFUCKING ELEPHANT...LOOK AT ME. WOOOOOOOOOO" etc. It just needs to hang out, eat peanuts, get brushed with a yard broom and go on a terrifying yet humorous rampage through the circus at the appropriate time**. Much cooler. Oh, yeah. on that Iran thing, I'm not saying that the current regime is any better either. Just sayin'.

*Whilst riding my single speed (drunk+ and in a tutu#)

** Hopefully killing as many clowns as possible. I hate clowns. Laughing-on-the-outside-crying-on-the-in-no-business motherfuckers. Hang them all.

+ This is a lie.

# I may as well be, I look reeeediculous in riding gear.

Player Hater Plater/

Is it wrong that I feel despair on some level when the organizer of SSWC10 is continually raving about how great riding his NOMAD is?

HEY GUYS! WOOOOOOO!!!! SINGLE SPEEDS!!! YEAH!!! ZANY FUN! RIDE IN COSTUME!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! sigh.

And what about the Single Speed club that you can't join? man...

It's grunge man, grunge. (that makes me Tad Doyle)

Resumption

The lung and I are back on speaking terms. The ride in this morning was okay. Washed out from first day back in 10. Pleased that the hospital scales a week ago added 11lbs to my weight that didn't exist. That's puzzled me. Now off to watch The Wire (so last year, I know).

Whirlwind (whirl WHIND?) pt 2.

I awoke at four in the morning in agony. It was as if Rebecca had finally snapped and shanked me in my sleep. Also, Rigors. RIGORS RIGORS RIGORS (Rye-gorrrrs), It's like burning to death and freezing to death at the same time. By this time I was pretty sure that I'd caught a dose of H1N1 and was fretting that my pregnant wife was gonna get the swine, I was acutally quite reassured by the whole thing, swine flu is not that big of a deal, some water and rest with some panadol and I'll be fine. By seven am things had gotten worse. A back and forth with Rebecca regarding a Dr's appointment (At this point Rebecca's call was "man flu") was settled by a spectacular display of vomiting and then immediately coughing up blood. It was my finest moment in a "I told you I was sick" kinda way. My GP. Who's stone cold excellent immediately called "Pneumonia" on my ass (lungs) and it was off to hospital for a feverish 24 hours of "Stat" fluids and IV antibiotics. man, what a drag.
Long story short. It was shit house. Stay the fuck away from pneumonia, kids. Seriously. Give it a wide berth. Now, as of a week later, I'm all anxious to get back on the bike, however worried that I don't wish to push my luck too soon. Monday I reckon, and I'll be back at it. For now? just sitting around.