Now, this might, or might not, come as a bit of a shock to you: in 361 days, I’ll turn 50. That’s almost eighteen thousand days I’ve been living, breathing, and learning here on this planet. So the big question is: what have I learned over these thousands of days. If you’ve been following this blog for a while, which I hope you have, you’ll know that I’ve learned that you can never lose those illusive seven pounds, that you should always wear sunscreen, and that you should never underestimate a wiry old rider. But there’s more.
Back when I was in the bike shop, the workshop was my domain. It was a narrow dog-legged room with a door at each end: one led to the shop floor, and the other to the attic come bike store come dumping ground for 100-years of shop history. From the ceiling, wheels in various states of construction or deconstruction hung, and along the walls there were countless tools and storage bins filled with parts old and new. Besides this, there was the timber bulk of a pre-war workbench, two workstands plastered with past mechanics’ names; and a cylindrical black bin: the kind they used for street collections when I was a kid. This bin is where my story starts.
The other day I was talking to my brother, and he was telling me that he wanted to up the size of the Big Dog (outer chainring) on his TT bike. He asked if there was anything he needed to consider. This got me thinking, and I realised there are several considerations, so I’ve written this piece in case you have the same question.
You’ve got a couple of grand burning a hole in your pocket, and you decide now is as good as a time as any to invest it in a new bike. So let’s go. No, stop! Knowing when to buy may save you a substantial amount of change, which you could splash on other shiny new toys. In this post, I offer you an insider’s view of when is the best time to grab a bargain.
One particular morning, the alarm went off at stupid o’clock. It was dark outside; the air was crisp; and the house was quiet. It was a day that neither of us were relishing: Em on account of his lack of pre-pre-season training, and myself because I have a near allergic reaction to early mornings and early rides…
The other day I was talking to my brother, and he was telling me that he wanted to up the size of the Big Dog (outer chainring) on his TT bike. He asked if there was anything he needed to consider. This got me thinking, and I realised there are several considerations, so I’ve written this piece in case you have the same question.
You’ve got a couple of grand burning a hole in your pocket, and you decide now is as good as a time as any to invest it in a new bike. So let’s go. No, stop! Knowing when to buy may save you a substantial amount of change, which you could splash on other shiny new toys. In this post, I offer you an insider’s view of when is the best time to grab a bargain.
Back in April last year, I wrote A Travesty Unfolds, which took a tongue-in-cheek look at older cyclists who pass their winters on the Costa Blanca. The upshot was that Brexit might curtail their winter sorties, and they would, once again, clog up the UK’s winter roads. Now that we’re on the eve of the end of the transition period, I unravel what the new year will bring for all of us who enjoy stretching our legs under the European sun.
Back when I was in the bike shop, there was always a steady stream of people gingerly carrying mangled bikes in for repair—or for last rites before I sent their bikes off to the great bike shop in the sky—as the result of the owner unsuccessfully wrestling with a car. None of us likes the idea of head-butting bonnets or eating gravel…
It’s the weekend and you’re out on the club ride when one of the old boys asks something like, “When I was your age, I’d climb that in a 91 inch gear; what you pushing?” Or, maybe, it’s the mid-week time-trial and one of the skinsuit clad wannabes boasts, “Yeh, anything less than 130 inches and I spin out!”.
Last week, I had the chance to ride with a new group. I had been getting a little bored solo road riding, so I jumped at the chance. What I didn’t realise was that most of them had no idea about group riding. This became abundantly clear when the wheel in front of me swerved to the left, and I plunged into the depths of some craterlike pothole…
Your pouring with sweat, your bike is filthy, and there are a million and one urgent tasks vying for your attention. So, what do you do? Upload your ride to Strava and check your favourite segments, of course. If you’re like me, you see a list of segments with accompanying times together with the odd bronze, silver, or gold medal. Wouldn’t it be nice to bask in the glow of cups or even that elusive KOM or QOM…
Airport parking, check-in, security, over-priced drinks, and your off – a sunny cycling destination is just around the corner. Fight to get off the plane, rush for passport control, wait for an age for your bike box to appear, queue forever to get a hire car then explain why you don’t need additional insurance for extra-terrestrial activity, and finally, you’re on your way. There’s only one job left – build your bike. Unfortunately, your bike’s headset decides not to play ball, and you end up with something like…
Back when I was in the bike shop, the workshop was my domain. It was a narrow dog-legged room with a door at each end: one led to the shop floor, and the other to the attic come bike store come dumping ground for 100-years of shop history. From the ceiling, wheels in various states of construction or deconstruction hung, and along the walls there were countless tools and storage bins filled with parts old and new. Besides this, there was the timber bulk of a pre-war workbench, two workstands plastered with past mechanics’ names; and a cylindrical black bin: the kind they used for street collections when I was a kid. This bin is where my story starts.
The other day I was talking to my brother, and he was telling me that he wanted to up the size of the Big Dog (outer chainring) on his TT bike. He asked if there was anything he needed to consider. This got me thinking, and I realised there are several considerations, so I’ve written this piece in case you have the same question.
You’ve got a couple of grand burning a hole in your pocket, and you decide now is as good as a time as any to invest it in a new bike. So let’s go. No, stop! Knowing when to buy may save you a substantial amount of change, which you could splash on other shiny new toys. In this post, I offer you an insider’s view of when is the best time to grab a bargain.
One particular morning, the alarm went off at stupid o’clock. It was dark outside; the air was crisp; and the house was quiet. It was a day that neither of us were relishing: Em on account of his lack of pre-pre-season training, and myself because I have a near allergic reaction to early mornings and early rides…
When I was down south at the bike shop, I’d commute on my single-speed every day. And every day I would pass Roadie labouring his way up the hill; we would lift a finger from our bars to acknowledge one another. Then one morning, Roadie came into the bike shop…
Back in April last year, I wrote A Travesty Unfolds, which took a tongue-in-cheek look at older cyclists who pass their winters on the Costa Blanca. The upshot was that Brexit might curtail their winter sorties, and they would, once again, clog up the UK’s winter roads. Now that we’re on the eve of the end of the transition period, I unravel what the new year will bring for all of us who enjoy stretching our legs under the European sun.
Back when I was in the bike shop, there was always a steady stream of people gingerly carrying mangled bikes in for repair—or for last rites before I sent their bikes off to the great bike shop in the sky—as the result of the owner unsuccessfully wrestling with a car. None of us likes the idea of head-butting bonnets or eating gravel…
It’s the weekend and you’re out on the club ride when one of the old boys asks something like, “When I was your age, I’d climb that in a 91 inch gear; what you pushing?” Or, maybe, it’s the mid-week time-trial and one of the skinsuit clad wannabes boasts, “Yeh, anything less than 130 inches and I spin out!”.
Now, this might, or might not, come as a bit of a shock to you: in 361 days, I’ll turn 50. That’s almost eighteen thousand days I’ve been living, breathing, and learning here on this planet. So the big question is: what have I learned over these thousands of days. If you’ve been following this blog for a while, which I hope you have, you’ll know that I’ve learned that you can never lose those illusive seven pounds, that you should always wear sunscreen, and that you should never underestimate a wiry old rider. But there’s more.