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which is it?
on saturday past, i had my two-weekly duty to deliver copies of the local newspaper to the local average market, and one other retailer, before waiting for the postie to arrive and take the remaining copies for distribution around the island. though this entails arising before 7am, in truth, it's only about ten minutes earlier than is the case during weekdays, yet it still feels like hours. and this early in the year, it is inevitably dark when i arise, which only makes the situation less amenable. however, i've been doing this for over twenty years, so you'd think i'd be used to it by now.
unfortunately, despite the reputed existence of the so-called 'law of averages', i seem rarely to be able to catch a break when it comes to the occasional gig. though there are 26 saturdays on which i can remain in bed until mid-morning if i wish, more often than not, an evening gig (9pm - midnight), will almost always land on one of the other 26 saturdays. such was the case last saturday. taken at face value, this means that i will be up and about from 7am in the morning until at least 1am the following morning, a period of about eighteen hours. it may be the age at which i have arrived, but i often find that a bit of a struggle.
the band in which i was playing drums on saturday eve in one of islay's more renowned hostelries, consists of an accordion, the player of which is still in his teens. the bass player is my elder by about five years, while the singer/guitarist is nine years my junior. however, of the instrumentation described above, drumming is by far the most physically onerous, not only from a playing point of view, but setup and takedown. i cannot deny that, following the morning newspaper distribution, i am in the habit of nodding off in the sitting room armchair for an hour or so after breakfast, ahead of a bike ride to debbie's for lunch.
on a good saturday, there will be more cycling involved than simply debbie's and back, but with an early start and late finish, i prefer to keep physical exertion to a minimum. however, it occurs to me that i may be looking at this in entirely the wrong way.
if you're willing to accept ultan coyle's maxim that "nothing's ever worse after a bike ride", then perhaps minimising my saturday and/or sunday ride time is the wrong thing to do? i have occasionally observed that, when feeling a little sleepy due to relative inaction, riding my bicycle will perk up the senses, engendering a period of feel-good countenance. in which case, perhaps not only would i be likely to remain more alert during the course of an evening's percussive activity, but fresher during the preceding and suceeding hours. the problem, as i see it, is just what might happen if i'm wrong? let me briefly outline the course of action that was once the case.
on a saturday which consisted of both early morning newspaper distribution and late night drumming (pre-covid, gigs were more likely to be 10pm - 1am), having arisen and breakfasted early, i would be inclined to take advantage of the extra period of time to head out on my bicycle almost immediately following breakfast. this would allow around 40km prior to a soya latte and double egg roll, and possibly another 40km after. not only would i then head out around 9:30pm for the gig, but after arriving home at almost 2am, arise again at 08:50am on sunday morning to head out for a 70km sunday bike ride.
the above is a scenario that played out for well over a decade, apparently with no ill effects, and i'm pleased to say, had no direct bearing on last year's health scare. however, since the latter, though i am still frequently to be found aboard my bicycle in all weathers, i find myself less able - or perhaps simply less willing - to ride distances greater than about 50-55km at a single sitting, and i have delayed my sunday starts by around one hour, accepting that so doing has subsequently restricted the distances i'm likely to ride. i've put this down to age and the fact that it's now a struggle to arise each weekday morning. but could this be the result of diminished kilometreage, rather than the opposite, and if i eagerly returned to my previous modus operandi, would the morning sparkle return?
after all, everyone knows that cycling cures everything.
was that the more beneficial option?
monday 26 january 2026
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................the horse has bolted
i spent my friday afternoon in the big room at the back of ionad chaluim chille ile, islay's local gaelic centre located on the outskirts of bowmore village. i was attending an open workshop presented by two individuals from historic environment scotland, keen to learn islanders' views on our local heritage. this was one of the final outreach visits featured as part of a year-long project due to end in march of this year.
anything entitled as a workshop, no matter the expected outcome, tends to adhere to remarkably similar format, dependent on how the presenting body wishes to come across to its public. any organisation with the words historic and environment in the title is almost bound to come across as serious in intent; there is little likelihood of the participants dissolving into raucous laughter during proceedings. therefore, presumably in an attempt to circumvent such a potential problem, we were invited to make a drawing of our favourite example of local heritage, which we would later be invited to discuss.
i pleaded the fifth amendment; since the primary reason for my presence was to write a report for the local newspaper. it seemed unlikely that i could give my fulsome attention to both, simultaneously. therefore i could be spied for the duration scribbling furiously in a scottish power renewables notebook, kindly handed to me at the last machairwind presentation in the selfsame building.
many of those in attendance were inclined to consider their heritage to be the ancient and historical buildings that pepper the island's topography. there is the seat of the lords of the isles at finlaggan, the finest example of a celtic cross in all the land situated adjacent to the ruined chapel at kildalton, and the colossal iron-age fort at dun nosebridge, to name but a few. all of these are likely to suffer the vicissitudes of climate change in the future, and may require external and internal works to save them for future generations, the expertise for which scarcely exists on islay's shores.
others, however, considered islay's people and their language as the shining light of island heritage, requiring a similar level of conservation if of a different hue. in the 1970s and 80s, the uk government effectively banned the teaching of gaelic in scottish schools, a move that has often heard calls for a wholesale apology. it was only a matter of a few years before this was seen as a major error, but following even a few years of a non-gaelic education, it was sufficient to break the chain, to the extent that gaelic is no longer a majority or equal language across most of scotland, with the possible exception of the western isles. holyrood has attempted to put a sticking plaster on the resulting problem, requiring all road signs to give priority to gaelic placenames, create gaelic immersion units in scottish primary schools, and spread learning of the language even as far as eastern scotland, which, traditionally, eschewed gaelic completely.
depending on who you ask, gaelic is either flourishing or continuing to decline.
though i wish to have you believe that i have my finger permanently on the pulse, so to speak, the truth is a tad different. we recently discussed the estrangement of endura cycle clothing to the uk's capital city, a displacement hastened by the current owners, pentland brands, breaking endura's thirty year association with its native land. which brings me to an online advert created to enhance this hard-won reputation in 2024, highlighting scotland's almost clichéd weather and how endura clothing was designed to maintain one's constitution in the face of such meteorological inclemency.
to place not too fine a point on it, the avdert is utterly brilliant (and just to check that this description extends past nationality, i showed it to a work colleague from south of the border; she found it every bit as hard-hitting and entertaining as did the scottish contingent). but the really, really sad part is that the company's move to london has subsequently rendered the advert not only inaccurate, but completely irrelevant. check the link below and see if you agree.
saturday 24 january 2026
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................mistaken identity
generally, i'm not particularly good with dates, and in mitigation, i am not referring to the dried fruit or an evening out with a prospective female partner. i'm referring to numbers, months and years on a calendar, the citing of which can illustrate when a particular happenstance took place. but, as i said, i'm not very good on that score, so in the following anecdote, i'd be fibbing if i said i could recall the year in which it took place.
for one of my birthdays (it might have been my sixtieth, but who can tell?), my son bought tickets for an international track meeting at glasgow's chris hoy velodrome, a building sited close to the ground of celtic football club, an entirely different sport that, surprisingly, will feature in paragraphs further down the page. at the time, there were no practical bus routes that passed within a proximitous distance to enable easy and potentially economic access. thus, staying at a city-centre hotel, the only viable option was travel by taxi, a mode of transport that benefits from a myriad of operators in scotland's most central city.
having departed the taxi rank at buchanan bus station, our journey was unexpectedly enhanced by encountering the belgian national track team riding road bikes en-route to the selfsame destination as were we. ironically and not entirely practical in its implementation, the only rider with a rear light, was seen to be riding at the front of this central glasgow peloton, its red flashing obscured by the rest of the team. the ease of identification was simplified by their wearing of the iconic and easily recognised belgian national jersey, one which has scarcely altered in many decades. the pale blue torso, augmented with black, yellow and red hoops is one much admired by hebridean velocipedinists, given our position as the flandrians of the west.
whether this pre-event ride was imposed by their coach, or simply because they'd missed the team bus, i know not; nor can i recall whether this possibly enforced training session benefitted them in the track racing that followed. yet, while rapha introduce their team usa jerseys to mixed, but generally positive approbation, you do have to wonder how many items of this national apparel are likely to be purchased on this side of the atlantic? given that team gb will compete in the very same los angeles olympics in 2028, would that not be seen as somewhat traitorous in intent? and could it not also be interpreted as tacit support for the irrational president of the united states and his possible takeover of greenland?
you may consider it a tad far-fetched to implicate those who may have purchased said apparel for all manner of reasons, including that of aesthetic appreciation, in external and potentially non-aligned supportive measures, but let me disavow you of that notion, a disavowance which includes a woollen hat with an outsize bobble.
in response to a course-side banner seen at a televised cyclocross race a few years past, i ordered a uci-approved world championship big bobble hat, a company that underlines the eccentricity of scotland by being based in east kilbride. along with an x2o badkamers duck hat, i have swapped between the two options on a daily basis, much to the apparent approval of my fellow hebrideans. however, after two years of alternate hattage, a chance discovery that big bobble hats offered a visma lease-a-bike badged bobble hat in belgian national colours was too good an opportunity to let pass. i now have the option of wearing a different woolly hat one each of three days before repetition sets in.
but, and this will come as no surprise to my fellow velocipedinists, cycling of any colour is buried by scotland's infatuation with football/soccer. even more so since the national team qualified for this year's world cup across the pond. however, while footballists may be entirely ignorant of cycling in all its many forms, a similar affliction pertains to many cycling aficionados, by which, of course, i mean me. therefore you can perhaps imagine my surprise, bordering on disgust, when i learned that the son of one of my work colleagues had indicated his own surprise that i was a supporter of partick thistle football club?
the more astute amongst you will realise what had taken place; that the colours of partick thistle (who apparently have not played in partick since 1908) are reputedly darned near identical to those of the belgian nation, something of which i was not warned at the point of purchase, by the proprietors of big bobble hats. protestations to villagers of my acquaint, that my black, yellow and red big bobble hat, featured the aforementioned visma lease-a-bike woven badge on the front, thus distinguishing it from a football team playing in the scottish championship, have, so far, carried very little weight, or, indeed, recognition.
is it any wonder that the world is in such a mess?
by the way, following the scribing of this monologue, a cursory glance at the big bobble hats website would tend to suggest that this particular hat is no longer available.
friday 23 january 2026
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................stating the obvious
take five, by the dave brubeck quartet, originally released on the album time out in 1959, is reputedly the best-selling jazz single of all time. in 2011, it was certified as double platinum indicating sales in excess of two million copies. my father, not known for any interest in jazz whatsoever, owned a copy of that record, on the b-side of which was the opening track from the selfsame album, blue rondo a la turk (which, for the numerically or percussively minded, was played in 9/8).
the tune, written by the quartet's saxophonist, paul desmond, was apparently based on a drum pattern that formed part of drummer joe morello's pre-gig practice regime, consisting of two double paradiddles, followed by two single paradiddles. the latter snippet of information will mean absolutely nothing to non-drummers, yet while it's a tricky pattern to cleanly execute at speed, it provides the luxury of ending on the opposite hand with which it began, making it an ideal repetitive figure. and, if you count the number of beats required to play this rudimental exercise, surprise, surprise, they add up to five. hence the composition's title, take five.
it has been pointed out that the brubeck quartet began each set with 'when the saints go marching in', though possibly not in quite as straighforward a manner as you might imagine. take five, with its mid-point drum solo, was the finale. however, what makes this a pertinent opening gambit (to my mind at least), is the glaringly obvious fact that morello's practice piece occupied those all-important, five beats, something i would have missed entirely had it not been pointed out by greg caputo, to whose father, ralph caputo, morello presented the zildjian ride cymbal played on that iconic piece.
of course, there are many instances of the glaringly obvious remaining hidden from view until pointed out by someone with the innate perspicacity to do so. for instance, there will be some of you reading who are about to ruminate on the obvious point i'm about to make: that in the northern hemisphere, and the uk and europe in particular, the weather we have been enjoying of late, really isn't particularly favourable to your bicycle or its componentry. and while you might issue one or two guffaws, safe in the knowledge that, as a member of the cognoscenti, such a fact is so glaringly obvious, it veers perilously close to insulting that i would mention it at all. however, i can think of many cases where the supposedly obvious has been overlooked and often to the detriment of the individual doing the overlooking.
and though i am the one doing the pointing, and the very person i would have you believe to be thorough in one's velocipedinal ministrations, i am as guilty of neglect as any number of apprentice cyclists.
as related on one or two recent occasions, the ritchey logic road bike has been enclosed in thewashingmachinepost bike shed since mid-november, gaining sight of daylight only when i remove the specialized cyclocross bike from its presence. this has nothing whatsoever to do with favouritism, but very much everything to do with the state of islay's roads. suffering a combination of council neglect, serious underfunding by scotland's central government and the inclemency of the island's weather, i fear greatly for my 28mm challenge strada tyres, and my own personal comfort.
i have shod the 'cross bike with challenge chicane rubber, featuring a relatively inert file tread, shouldered by just enough knobbles to get me along nancy's path when the going gets muddy. but their maximum pressure of 40psi, the 33mm width and the geometry of the crux all combine to offer a more comfortable and stable path across the hebridean roads of iniquity, a luxury with which i have become well-acquainted and find myself reluctant to relinquish.
however, given the pervasive sea-salt atmosphere that will be well-known to anyone who lives but a few metres from the north atlantic, there is a cost to be shouldered by leaving a bicycle unattended and unused. despite the campagnolo chain on the ritchey having been carefully cleaned and lubricated before consigning it to several months of inactivity, on removing the specialized last weekend, it was embarrassingly obvious that there were orange patches of ferrous oxide to be randomly seen along its entire length. and the front mech wasn't too healthy either.
i am only glad that i noticed before displaying my neglect to the world - or at least the other members of the sunday peloton.
so, whether there are bicycles you ride regularly, or others that you're saving for a (not) rainy day, start the year by implementing a maintenance regime that you won't forget. and however inconvenient it might be, ensure that, following the post-ride shower, you'll wipe down the bicycle, whether of ferrous or non-ferrous composition, and fastidiously clean and lube the chain, along with derailleurs and the like. come summertime, you'll thank me for pointing out the glaringly obvious.
as the mahavishnu orchestra once said, 'you know, you know'.
tuesday 20 january 2026
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