at the start of this year's islay whisky festival, as reported in these very pixels, i participated in the second ever tour de islay, visiting each and every one of islay's nine distilleries in a single, wet and windy day. i thought i had acquitted myself particularly well by riding the 21 kilometres from bowmore to ardbeg for the start, considering my pelotonic colleagues had all arrived by car. all, that is, apart from one stalwart, who had driven from glenrothes in fife, to kennacraig to catch the 07:00 islay ferry. he then cycled the five kilometres from the ferry port to ardbeg. that pretty much put my own efforts into a greater perspective.
naturally enough, all those folks who ride around the world, or from top to bottom of a continent cover distances well in excess of anything i might manage over an average weekend on islay; i am not given to straying farther afield very often. then, there are those possessed of more competitive genes, those who undertake hundreds of kilometres with the need to complete the distance within certain time limits, either for personal reasons or to satisfy the folks at the guinness book of records. one such gent is james mclaren, whose journey by bicycle across europe, started in ufa in russia, and encompassed just under 6,300 kilometres across nine countries.
the results of his travels (and you'll have to read it to find out if he nabbed the record) fill the 216 pages of chasing lines, a record of all that befell him and his bicycle en-route to southern portugal.
though there have been several recorded rides by cyclists totally unqualified for the trips they undertake, james mclaren was no bright-eyed newbie to the concept of travelling substantial distances by bicycle. but it's possible that his mechanical appreciation of the machine that took him across the andes, might have been a tad less than you'd hope for. as he states in the opening chapter "Thirty miles into the first day, I had axle issues. Luckily, I managed to get it repaired by a young lad in the smallest bicycle shop I had ever seen. Still, I couldn't help but think, was I not supposed to pull the wheel's axles out when I dismantled it to box the bike?"
though i'm pretty darned certain i will never attempt anything like james mclaren's journey, if i was about to do so, i think i'd have been keen to acquire as much mechanical knowledge as possible. this technical innocence reared its head during the early days of his european trip, after having had the transmission seen to in a small bike shop. the latter did not have a ten-speed cassette in order to renew the chain and sprockets at the same time, but the mechanic had attempted a fix nonetheless. however, in tehe kilometres following the 'repair, mclaren had doubts about its efficacy.
"I quickly realise the gear cable hasn't been put back correctly! It's not in a carrier under the bottom bracket of the frame and so isn't held in place. The twangs must have been from it rubbing on the front cassette. (sic) What to do now, I have no idea. [...] I look it over and see that the cable has to be taken off the rear de-railure (sic) and re-thread the right way, brilliant. Not having ever done this before I'm worried. I had a pair of pliers and multi-tool. Thank God for those pliers."
and it wasn't only mechanical troubles that inflicted themselves upon his extensive ride. having experienced knee-pain prior to his departure, an ailment he thought to have been suitably remedied, it flared up again only a matter of days into the ride, necessitating, at one point, pedalling only with his good leg. had this been a normal ride through europe, it would have been entirely expedient to have taken a couple of days off in the hope that the pain subsided, but with a record attempt, there's really no such thing as a day off. to add to his woes, the visitor's visas he held were date sensitive and he had little idea of the consequences should he have remained in russia past the expiry date.
"I'm going okay then my quad shoots a pulse of pain down my leg. It's a lot worse than before, and it starts throbbing to the point where I can't use it at all. I struggle to unclip my shoe from the pedal, as the motion is agony, even without the force going through my leg. I continue with the left leg out in the air and the right leg pedalling, praying it will calm down but this is bad now, it won't work. I last for two long miles with the right leg tiring and sore."
mclaren's is a story well worth the telling, one that serves not only as a narrative of this major undertaking, but one that could easily serve as a manual for those considering any form of long distance cycle, record or otherwise. it's well-paced, with little in the way of lulls in the action, but it does prove that the more you write, the better you become at writing. the opening chapters demonstrate this in stark detail, where punctuation, grammar and a tendency to slip continuously from past tense to present tense indicate that editorial assistance might have been worth considering. however, the intricacies and straightforward strength of his story, mostly transcend the omission of any literary niceties.
nowhere is this better demonstrated right at the start. where others may have been inclined to narrate the trip from home to start in greater, yet probably unnecessary detail, mclaren gets straight to the point. "It was a great feeling to have landed in Ufa, gotten the bike and made it to the hotel." perhaps i could learn something from his brevity?
grammatical and pedantic concerns aside, this is a fine read for armchair and long-distance cyclists alike. the author's enthusiasm and tenacity shine through each chapter, even when under duress. he's a better man than i, gunga din, and with a book to prove it. your summer reading sorted.
sunday 23 june 2019
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