How to murder a Brooks saddle

I've always loved my leather Brooks saddle. Until I got my latest carbon bike I always rode with it. It's done several Ironman triathlons long rides, commutes, trips to the coast, Alpe d'Huez, vatternrundan. More recently it has lain alone in the shed. The carbon has a nice white saddle that was Cyclefitted to me, the old blue Pearson is ridden by son No 2 who hates the Brooks and the fixed has a cheapo saddle as the Brooks is too bouncy. So ( see last post) when the fixed's cheapo sadddle broke its was time for a new lease of life for the Brooks. It looks great but straight away it was clear the leather was stretched and there was no space left on the end of the tension bold. So should I: A: retire it gently B: beat it with a bseball bat, run it over in the car and then set fire to it? In the event I did something much worse, I Googled what to do. Part II to follow.........

I got those Father's Day, bicycle maintenance blues

With the return of the summer I have been back on the fixed wheel bike for the daily commute. This has been fortunate as I haven't really been out for longer rides at the weekend and commuting is a great way of clocking up those miles in readiness for the big event. Alongside all of the decorating, ferrying kids around and gardening I haven't really had much time for training rides but Father's Day opened up an oasis of me-time in this desert of chores. A little sad I know but I decided to tinker with my bike as a treat. Needless to say I wish I hadn't. I found out that the brake blocks were worn out, My saddle was split so I replaced it with my old Brooks which has reached to end of its life too. I also noticed that I can't see the wear line on the front wheel any more. I think I should have just held out for a new bike!

Stormy weather

Having ridden the North Downs in blazing sunshine and spent the next week clocking up even more miles in the heat the Jubilee weekend brought a big change in the weather. Last Tuesday Bank Holiday morning I managed a small ride out with son number 2 around the newly-smoothed surface of Box Hill. I'm still in full decorating mode so I kept it short thinking I'd been on the bike again later in the week and back to work. Think again. The weather has been shocking. Despite being prepared to suffer a soaking there just hasn't been a day when I felt it was worth it or safe. I softened the blow with a little retail therapy, purchasing some nice new road shoes. Perhaps I'll get chance to use them sometime.

After last Sunday's King of the North Downs ( see previous post) I thought I would need a rest but this week has turned out to be anything but.

Workwise the four day Jubilee weekend has ment getting out an entire issue in three days. The rain has meant lots to do in on the allotment ( I strimmed for 2 hours on Monday evening) and on the house there is still more decorating to do........arrggghh. As far as the bike goes the KOTD was about 115 miles, though the hills made it seem a lot more. I left the bike at home on Monday but have ridden each day since. That's another 100 miles. I'm rather pleased ( OK smug) 220 miles, all hills in five days is not bad. The legs are tired and the undercarriage a bit sore but otherwise good conditioning. Possibly good enough for 24 hrs in the saddle???

King of the Downs 2012

There can be no better feeling that setting the alarm for 5.00am and waking to see the orange of the rising sun burning the dew from the grass knowing that you will be spending the day riding through beautiful countryside. That was just how Sunday started; no gilet, no raincoat, no overshoes, no baselayer, no armwarmers. Let's get the important bit sorted. Bike: Pearson Palace Carbon 11-25 cassette, compact chainring attire: Garmin Transitions race jersey, full zip bibshorts Sunwear: Factor 50 suncream. Neckercheif in reserve. The KOTD has become a hidden gem of a ride (see last post) and although there are supposedly 10 climbs I would argue that it's at least 13. I'll be a little controversial here and say there are two types of rider on the day. real cyclists and wheel-sucking bandits. I have never seen so many groups riding with so few people taking a turn on the front. I regularly found myself with a long tail of riders, when they finally overtook me they invariably slowed me down. Having had that moan I have to say it is one of hardest, yet enjoyable, days on the bike around. I thought I would start with the numbers because the rest of the story of this ride is pure emotion. 10,000+ calories burned. According to Garmin but given the amount of flapjack, gels, malt loaf, peanut butter sandwiches and energy drink I consumed but still felt empty, I can well believe it. 115 miles; they say 113, the last 20 miles from the official final climb felt neverending. This wansn't helped by a smiley face sign saying 'no more hills' only to be confronted by at least one really sharp little hill. I was asked by a South African chap if were had gone the wrong way when the third feed station just didn't seem to arrive. Although we were given maps I have opted for Johnson and Johnson Trueeye contact lenses and adidas Evil Eye Half rim pro sunglasses (Sorry chaps). I paid for it thought as I couldn't read the map with the CLs in as they were single vision. Luckily I didn't veer off course. Max speed 45mph: doesn't sound fast but you can bet your life it was on a twisty tree-lined descent. There were a few fallers too. Max heart rate was 174, for me that's on the limit. Ride time 7hrs 23mins: It felt like more. I did stop, so my official time will have another ten minutes on it. Perhaps I should have stopped a little more. As I approached the first feed station I swallowed a fly and spent five minutes choking so i'll claim at least five of those back. 9,000ft of climbing: I managed to stay seated for the first 8 climbs, but (Paul take note) I had no choice to get out of the saddle for the last two. I really thought I was going to have to get off and walk at one point when a 4x4 came down a tiny lane at one of steepest part of York's Hill. If I had I wouldn't have been alone, There were walkers everywhere. I certainly missed the last two low gears on my old Pearson bike. But it was a hard day. From around 90 miles my lower back and neck were really beginning to ache (I had spent Saturday decorating so I blamed that). After the final climb the un-numbered hills brought on bit of cramp and the power was really dropping off. I would be fibbing to say I wasn't wishing for it to end. As ever the memory rewrites feeling and I am enjoying that post-event euphoria, wearing my cycling jersey tanlines with pride and waiting for the next big event. (I'll post some phots if there are any of me from the event photographer.)

Going for the triple

In a fit of pique some weeks ago I put my name forward for the King of the North Downs. This is an epic Sunday in late May covering 115 miles of South East countryside and every hill the organiser could muster. The South East is pretty flat but with 9,000ft of climbing this ride is not for the faint hearted.

The first time I rode the KOTD the weather was terrible and the experience ranks among one of the worst days on the bike I have ever had. I was wet, cold and hungry, finally hitting the wall (not literally) late in the afternoon and slowly limping home. As ever the pain of the day has morphed into legend upon my memory, hence this year's entry. On the second outing the ride had sold out so I had to take all of my own food and tag along. The weather got hot towards the end of the day and I was riding with some good cyclists which piled the pressure on even more. This year I will ride solo, I'm sure I will make some friends along the way. The weather looks hot so I may have some new delights to look forward to. I'll let you know how I get on.

Box Hill rising ( contains smutty nonsense)

I spent all of last week painting. I had taken a week's holiday specifically for that purpose but assumed I'd get out on the bike at some point, but it wasn't to be. As it turned out the weather was shocking and I had seven rooms, two landings and 11 doors and doorframes to paint. By the weekend I was beginning to succumb to the paint fumes and go snow blind (everything was brilliant white). I had noticed the previous week that Box Hill had been resurfaced. Although I had passed by it was still being worked on for the Olympics so I had to wait to actually get the tarmac under my wheels. Now given a chance to get out on the bike this was the place to go. It was a superb sunny Sunday morning so I got out nice and early hoping to miss the crowds of cycists now to be found on the Olympic route. It was so early that the mist hadn't quite risen out of Mole Valley as I crossed Ranmore for the ascent. The recent poor weather has hampered the road resurfacing and the Italian women's cycling team travelled to the UK in vain to ride the hill. They arrived only to be sent away by the road menders. But for the rest of us it was worth the wait, the new surface is fantastic. As smooth as a baby's bum and free of potholes and speed bumps. As I climbed the Scalextric-like zig zags I could almost see the mist rising with me. Sadly as I reached the summit I caught the mist up and everything became shrouded in a white blanket.

I Still managed to capture the picture below though. Just beyond the road art you can see the mist.It's nice to see the locals have such a warm welcome waiting for all of those foreign cycling teams.