sunday mornings are forever the same, but in a good way. though at one undefined time in the past, the meet up hour for the sunday ride varied with the changing of the clocks, it has been permanently stuck at 10am for years. there are several members of the peloton who have no receollection of velocipedinal life ever having been different than it is today. however, inured though we are to the pervasive weather conditions at this tme of year, no matter those foretold by xcweather.co.uk or windfinder.com on the previous eve, there is usually less than a negative murmur from within.
until yesterday morning.
having sadly buried lord carlos on saturday, there was now no errant guiding light to coax or embarrass the merry throng into casting aside any misgivings engendered by online weather forecasts and venturing into the heart of potential inclemency.
i was about to entertain my second plate of porridge and peaches when, unusually, i heard the phone ring in the sitting room. whereas once this was the principal method of communication amongst the valiant, there has been an undeniable recent adoption of more contemporary forms. as one less enamoured of any of those, it seems i was the last to know, previous messaging having already sown the seeds of doubt amongst the faithless. these unholy ruminations were not, i must admit, without apparently good cause. converting knots into miles-per-hour offered potential head or crosswinds reaching 47mph.
as a headwind, that's a not insubstantial level of grunt work, featuring very large sprockets and a cadence that would beat an egg, were it not for the slowing power of the breeze. however, taking uiskentuie strand into consideration, a stretch of road and sand-dunes that offers no shelter whatsoever, a sideways wind direction could easily push a struggling cyclist into the path of oncoming traffic, minimal though that generally is of a sunday morning. to be honest, it's probably situations such as this that fostered the popularity of the cyclocross bike.
(riding on the grass down the strand ensures that being blown over doesn't hurt.)
possibly the weak link in the rule book is the lack of enforcement fostered by the lack of a specifically applicable rule. for though three of us had ostensibly agreed to shelve the sunday bike ride on the grounds of inclement weather, one of our number did not receive the directive until reaching debbie's at the appointed hour. i then undermined the entire affair by subsequently disregarding our telephone accord and venturing out anyway.
i realise that the g.c. ristorante debbie's peloton is somewhat unique by way of the prevailing meteorological conditions. there can't be too many sunday pelotons that suffer the slings and arrows of discontent with quite such regularity, but yesterday proved, if nothing else, that however silly it gets, there are still at least a few of us with enough sense to remain indoors.
sadly, i appear not to be amongst their number.
monday 29 january 2018
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................on islay's west coast lies loch gorm, a freshwater patch of water with its western shores only a stone's throw from the atlantic ocean. overlooking its eastern side is rockside farm on which has been built, islay's most westerly distillery: kilchoman. originally constituted as a small farm distillery, recent construction work has been undertaken in order to increase its output, thanks to the ever-increasing popularity of islay's single malts. in fact, in a perfect case of the tail wagging the dog, the distillery bought out the farm not so very long ago, utilising much of the land to grow barley for their 100% islay product.
i have bored you all to death over the past few years by continually relating the need for the pot ale left over from the distilling process to be removed by means of large forty-foot articulated tankers. this applies in particular to kilchoman, for unlike all of islay's other distilleries, it is not sited at the sea-side; at no time did it ever dispose of the pot ale into a nearby stretch of water. now that production has expanded, there is more of this waste to be removed and the added weight in the tankers has begun to make itself visibly known on the singletrack road surface.
to put not too fine a point on it, the surface is disintegrating and if suitable repair is not effected soon, within a year or two, the road to the distillery will be little more than a gravel track.
the state of this road has already had me undertake the festive 500 on a specialized crux cyclocross bike, replete with its 33mm tyres in order that i might enjoy a comfort not afforded by the average and not so average road bike. assuming the song to remain the same, the sunday morning peloton will soon all have need of a velocipede capable of riding on gravel. in which case, nick legan's new title is most timeous in its appearance.
the author is currently technical editor at america's adventure cyclist magazine, where he is ideally placed to be an authority on the joys of bikepacking, a contemporary form of cycle touring that relies more upon bags designed to fit in the nooks and crannies of the bike frame, rather than relying on the racks and panniers beloved of the cycle tourists of yesteryear and of arguably more traditional thought. but as the book bears witness, there is no need to undertake multi-day offroad rides in order to appreciate the pleasantries offered by gravel cycling.
that this is definably an american publication is never in doubt, if only because gravel riding on this side of the pond can scarcely compare with the 2013 (US) Department of Transportation report which noted "...nearly 1.4 million miles of the country's 4 million miles of public roads are unpaved." many of these north american unpaved roads are indeed topped with gravel and even apparently maintained by by the state. as legan mentions in his introduction "...we get to experience them anew after additional gravel is laid, or grading work is completed." it seems eminently possible that north america pays greater attention to the quality of its gravel roads than britain lavishes on tarmac.
unfortunately from a british perspective, the north american bias is inescapable, graphically underlined by the opening pages featuring a map of america overlaid with adventure bikepacking routes. chapter three features a year's overview of one-day domestic events, interspersed with "...advice from the organizers as well as past winners. What bike to to bring, tires of choice, gearing recommendations and tips on race nutrition..." though not all the included events are of a competitive nature, the comprehensive nature of these pages ought to leave no-one in any doubt as to what to expect from this sub-genre of cycling activity.
there follows a further chapter on one-day international events, though here the word gravel appears to have been substituted by "Mixed-surface riding..." presumably on the basis that most off-road tracks in europe feature less gravel and more dirt. or, if looking specifically at the uk, mud. the international chapter features rides in australia, france, britain (dirty reiver), spain and germany, to name but a few. multi-day events are also covered midst interviews with experienced riders, though the book was apparently published too early to include this year's hotchillee gravel event in the atlas mountains, but omits 2017's london-brighton gravel ride.
all the included chapters are superbly illustrated with a copious number of colour photographs along with a few drawn illustrations and i confess that, while i am rather attracted to the realm of velocipedinal gravel aboard a brightly coloured cyclocross bike, i could spend many a happy hour just gazing at the pictures.
of course, the alternative to riding competitively, or even under the conditions of a gravellious sportive, is to festoon an appropriate bicycle with bike packs and head off into the sunset. bikepacking is allegedly one of cycling's growth areas, but legan advises "Because of this additional heft, lower gears, better brakes and wider tyres can be useful bike modifications for multiday rides.". this may be the most pertinent chapter in the book, if organised events are not your thing, offering as it does, practical advice on handlebar choice, bike pack choice, useful and relevant tips and tricks as well as assistance for those intent on camping and an interview with eric parsons of revelate designs purveyor of sturdy frame-fit bags to ease the toil of luggage transportation.
the final chapter concerns the prospect of building "your gravel dream machine." of all the book's contents, this seems the most superfluous; given the frequency with which bike models are chopped and changed, those on show are possibly already out of print so to speak.
those domiciled in north america with a hankering for adventures over the 'roads less travelled' (as daniel wakefield pasley would have it), nick legan's 'gravel cycling' would be a prudent addition to the cycling bookshelf. on this side of the atlantic, its attraction is lessened somewhat, unless you plan on imitating rapha's late lamented continental by visiting across the water with bike in tow.
nick legan's 'gravel cycling' is available in the uk from cordee books, or in the usa direct from velopress
sunday 28 january 2018
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................more often than not, scarcely a week goes by when i do not have occasion to mention the sunday bike ride, an event, if it might be referred to as such, that, over the years, has become an integral part of the island's velocipedinal life. if you consider that the latter consists of a maximum of nine local riders, you will perhaps understand that we are considerably less than anything that might be termed a niche.
with this constant repetition of its existence, i'm assuming that sunday rides take place all across the world and that our weekly meet at 10am outside debbie's is hardly one worthy of remark. in other words, a ride with which we can all identify.
however, from the point of view of those participating, it can be considered the high point of our cycling week, unless of course, some extra curricular activity has been scheduled further afield. with one notable exception, it is an ageing peloton; the bradley bubble apparently passed us by. the hebridean weather is perhaps a salient factor in discouraging the young and fit to drag themselves from their beds on a sunday morning, or maybe it's the lure of the playstation or xbox that lessens the attractiveness of a weekly bout of strenuous pedalling?
though somewhat of a tautologous statement, we are in the habit of telling others 'the sunday ride is the sunday ride' a statement hopefully taken to mean that a) we leave no-one behind and b) aside from the last kilometre build-up towards the bruichladdich sprint, there's no necessity need to work up a sweat in the pursuit of untrammeled speed, other than ploughing into one of the island's renowned headwinds. if you want to bust a gut (so to speak) you do so on a saturday, or any other day of the week, come to that.
robert millar was once quoted as saying that, once past the age of thirty, it became necessary to train twice as hard in order to stand still. improvement would require a greater investment of time and effort. the passing years are kinder to some than to others, so even if paying attention to the second point outlined above, the more prudent amongst us are inclined to undertake at least a modest amount of gut busting during the preceding week to stave off any embarrassment on the sabbath. much of this takes place away from prying eyes, carried out in splendid solitude and with an individual level of tactic that might prove beneficial come sunday morning.
at least, that was the theory. we refer to this as secret training.
what hadn't been factored into this off-the-cuff strategy was the likelihood of serendipity; the possibility that in the process of secret training, we might actually come across one another. after all, it's not that big an island. last weekend, saturday became the new sunday, when four of us met accidentally, too polite to accuse anyone of training in secret, but secretly happy to have acquired some company for lunch at debbie's.
i now have to hope that this was a one-off situation, a result of the vaguely defined law of averages and one unlikely to recur in the foreseeable future. at this time of year, a combination of work and weather conspire to make saturday and sunday the most favourable times to go for a bike ride. if saturday does indeed become the new sunday, secret training is going to require a tad more clandestine forethought.
mum's the word.
saturday 27 january 2018
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................i have waxed lyrical on several previous occasions about our collective propensity as intrepid velocipedinists, to complain fervently about the state of britain's roads, particularly in the light of the ever-increasing number of potholes that pepper their surfaces. what we want are the sort of surfaces seen during the tour de france, many of which have been laid only days before the professional peloton thunders by. it would be a delight to ride from a to b with nary an untoward rumble from our ever widening tyres.
but, of course, real life isn't like that.
yet come the middle days of march and there we are, hypocrites to a man and woman, huddled round eurosport or some dodgy live internet feed, watching our heroes wend their often weary way across all those chunky big cobbles that seem to pervade the northern regions of france and on into belgium. so fervently do we want to witness their battles with pain and suffering, that there are guffaws of despondency when they opt to avoid the pavé and ride in the smoother gutters or even onto the pavement.
it seems that we like to witness the angushed faces of the peloton as they do battle with both parcours and elements, but really, we'd rather such trivialities were less troublesome to our goodselves. yes, indeed, those clad in team kit aboard regular issue, service de corse carbon fibre are mostly well paid for their efforts, as opposed to you and i who allegedly ride decrepit roads for fun. but still...
cycling has frequently been made the poster boy for audience participation, one where we can ride the same nano tubes as our idols and wear the same team kit, always assuming the bank manager to be a cycling fan too. therefore, aside from the lack of camera motorbikes and team cars following the sunday morning peloton, the potential verisimilitude is often too tempting to avoid. and in order that we may lord it over our fellow pelotonese, there really is no alternative to getting out on the bike. the possibility that any of the civilian population might also be mightily impressed is probably too small to be statistically significant, but you just never know.
however, taken from the preceding paragraph, the key phrase is 'there really is no alternative to getting out on the bike.', something that the insidious encroachment of zwift and the turbo trainer would seem to mitigate against. don't misunderstand my motives; i have no great desire to portray myself and fellow hebrideans as martyrs to the cause, simply because we're stupid enough to ride out in weather that even the local livestock disdain. if proof of the latter were needed, as we rode past three ponies last sunday in freezing rain, i guarantee they gave us one of those funny looks that ponies often do.
really, they did.
however, no matter your views on riding in inclement conditions, there are standards to be maintained, standards that seem to have been either forgotten or ignored by the uk's premier weekly cycling publication. said magazine is in the habit of sending regular e-mails on publication day to advise of the contents, this week's edition of which was sufficient to have the spirits fall in advance of the weekend. for there, occupying the bulk of the magazine's front cover was the heading "11 pro turbo sessions to get you fit fast."
i think it unlikely i need say anymore.
britain's premier weekly cycling publication
friday 26 january 2018
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................around the turn of the century, british telecom and highlands and islands enterprise, for reasons best known to themselves, decided to make islay a special case with regard to the burgeoning future in electronic communications. while much of the uk was making do with a dial-up internet connection or, perhaps, an isdn line for more heavy-duty carrying, bt and hie figured that installing what was then called an asymmetric digital subscriber line, or adsl would be something of a wizard wheeze.
quite why islay, i have little idea, but the rumour at the time was that if it worked on islay, it would probably work anywhere, giving the partnership a tried and tested, reliable product.
to facilitate this potentially benevolent situation (for us, at least), a colleague and i, who were on the fringes of t'internet (he was the technical whizz, while i contented myself with making pretty pictures) were engaged to become so-called ambassadors and local points of contact. this involved attending seminars, and training courses, both for the purposes of learning the lie of the land and in order that we would ultimately become trainers on the island. the latter vocation also promised the potential for teaching others about the technology when it was eventually sold or installed elsewhere on the west coast.
this particular state of affairs continued for just over a year, during which the urgency and technical ceiling of the project became more and more diluted at each turn of the page. while british telecom had initially and effectively promised an island intranet, allowing sophisticated electronic communication all across islay, this rapidly disappeared from the agenda, as did many of the training courses, most of which seemed to be handled by former hie employees who had now become self-styled consultants, with inflated associated fees. my colleague and i were further marginalised when the project leader decided her interests lay elsewhere, leaving us both all dressed-up with nowhere to go.
personally, the only thing i recall achieving from the entire affair was learning how to correctly pronounce fionnphort, when on the island of mull, observing a training course. it's from there that the small ferry leaves to visit the island of iona. that and the fact that the brass plaque in fionnphort village hall had accommodation incorrectly spelt.
from the high hopes we'd all had at the beginning of the show, all we ended up with was a website, one that duplicated efforts made elsewhere, but styled as an islay portal. according to the hyperbole, this would be the first port of call for all those wishing to discover the wide variety of attractions that could be found on islay's shores. of course, no-one else seemed to be aware of this, with the web statistics, even after six months, making for pretty depressing reading. that website might still be floating around somewhere, but in reality, i rather doubt it.
those were the days when people launched websites with great fanfare; in this case, bt and hie took a marquee at the annual islay agricultural show in august, offering drinks, nibbles and a couple of computer screens to show off their newly sculpted, but ultimately useless website. thankfully, websites just appear nowadays. in all their contemporary ubiquity; proudly declaring the existence of your latest website would scarcely elicit a raised eyebrow, never mind an impromptu firework display.
yet some corners of the velocipedinal world seem not to have learned from this and similar experiences. once known as gran fondos, offering the fit and healthy amateur cyclist the opportunity to ride over lengthy and scenic routes in the company of many others, testing themselves against the terrain while receiving mechanical support, feed stations and often closed roads. the gran fondo situation rapidly spread into what we would now know as sportives, perhaps a tad less strenuous than a fondo, but certainly a great deal closer to home and arguably more accessible.
these are now so common, that announcement of a new one seems less than remarkable, leading me to wonder why some organisers still find it necessary to corner a cycling personality in the local supermarket and arm wrestle them into announcing the existence of an upcoming event. only a matter of days ago, i received a press release informing me that the sponsor of a series of 2018 events had engaged the services of a lesser known cycling mbe to announce the advent of this year's programme.
i'd be seriously interested to learn whether endorsement by a personality makes any perceivable difference to the entry list. surely these events are either worth riding or they are not; associating them with cycling's movers and shakers, who are quite possibly being paid to do so, will surely have no bearing on the parcours, weather or potential enjoyment of the bike ride? such endorsements are not solely the preserve of the lengthy and challenging sportive. there have been many instances of so-called cycling celebrities fronting safety campaigns, cycle-to-work initiatives and similar efforts, though i have yet to read any reports that vindicate this particular train of thought.
one is reminded of the who's 1971 release 'won't get fooled again', a title that seems not always to be fulfilling its promise in velocipedinal circles.
thursday 25 january 2018
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................the wife of an erstwhile friend of mine was generally in the habit of providing coffee and cake on our return from a bike ride, in the days before debbie's was even a twinkle in debbie's eye. in fact, now that i come to think of it, debbie's twinkling eye was probably still at school in those days. however, to return to the cake, it was usually of the fruit variety; either cherry cake or some variant of dundee cake and on more than one occasion, i was given to compliment her on this coffee accompaniment. though it ultimately became her go-to response, my accolade initially received a "i bought it myself" reply.
ah, how we laughed.
i am continually accused by my office colleagues that i scarcely seem to think of food as do they, more inclined to regard it as fuel for the next bike ride, rather than a tasy morsel to be gratuitously consumed with an afternoon espresso. of course, that really isn't true, as i think i have regularly demonstrated a particular affection for freshly baked scotch pancakes, available from a friendly local newsagent near me (don't ask). however, i cannot deny that there is a grain of truth in their accusations, for it's undeniable that i prefer not to eat things that are generally considered 'unhealthy', yet 'yummy'.
this culinary agnosticism extends to the art of dining out, an activity in which mrs washingmachinepost and yours truly rarely indulge and not always for reasons of economy. though she is happy to identify herself as a carnivore, i have been a vegetarian since my early teens and the lack of non-meat variety on the menus of the local hostelries i find quite irksome. for instance, the average menu will generally offer four or five alternatives for the meat-eaters and only one for those of us who prefer not to so indulge.
sometimes, that menu simply states that the dietarily challenged should simply advise their serving person, with no alternative printed. aside from seeming a tad sloppy, i'd prefer to have a choice rather than take-it-or-leave-it.
it was therefore of particular interest to listen to san francisco-based chef, chris cosentino, a man who seemingly eschews the trappings of the more common celebrity chef, riding his bicycle to work rather than indulging in an expensive and probably unnecessarily powerful motor car. according to a short video made by portland backpack purveyors, chrome industries, cosentino strives to "make people familiar with the unfamiliar", his goal being to "make people comfortable."
san francisco is a long way from islay, both geographically and in terms of climate, so it will probably surprise you not at all that i have yet to sample the unfamiliar cuisine as prepared by mr cosentino. i am assuming that his menus cater to the vegetarian palate, because there's little doubt that the cockscomb restaurant has subtle appeal to the cyclists among us. not only is his first ever cycle helmet to be found hanging 'neath a wall-mounted shelf, but the glass globe lighting hangs suspended from the ceiling by way of bicycle chains. and we all know how efficient those are.
of course, the chrome industries, chris cosentino movie is not entirely altruistic; it's not so long ago that i featured the company's heftily constructed chef's knife roll, an item included in film-maker matt reyes' production. however, though the film concentrates on what it is that makes chris cosentino the chef that he is, it's the opening shots that are of greatest interest to those of us keen to promote the way of the velocipede as a means of getting to and from work/school/shops.
i recall an article in a long-since demised american mountain bike magazine, the narrative of which wholely concerned the joys to be had of single-track riding, negotiating the incredible narrowness of being, while throwing the bike hither and thither on the way to coffee and cake nirvana. that this constituted the sole purpose of riding an offroad machine in such a manner, was undermined in the last paragraph, when the author admitted that such energetic scrabblings were solely a means of being able to consume as many doughnuts as desired, without adverse effect.
though i have little doubt that this had been written with tongue planted firmly in cheek, it strikes me that riding to and from your place of work eventually offers a similar opportunity to enjoy the creations of chefs such as mr cosentino, without later having to deal with an unforgiving conscience. and i still figure i could fit several pairs of drum sticks, brushes and beaters into one of those chrome industries knife rolls.
versatility personified.
chris cosentino and chrome industries
wednesday 24 january 2018
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................a somewhat minimal peloton took to islay's windswept roads on sunday in sub-zero temperatures, made substantially lower by those galeforce winds. at various points during the 50 kilometre parcours, we were hammered by frequent hailshowers, causing me to note that i would have been hard-pressed to play the trumpet at that particular time. not, you understand, that i'm recommending trumpet playing during a regular bike ride.
there was a brief discussion amongst the cowering foursome, vainly sheltering at the door of debbie's as to whether we ought perhaps to change the name of our playful little cycle club to mentalists.cc. it would have been very hard to deny the first signs of errant behaviour, considering the severity of the weather, particularly when two of our number insisted on having their photo taken against a stormy sea. but, aside from questioning our sanity, the insidious cold undermined any propensity to attack one of the local strava kom sectors.
while i have vehemently remonstrated with you concerning my lack of regard for the cyclists' facebook, i cannot say the same for several members of my sunday morning peloton. it needs only one of our number, or even a rogue individual to snag one of those kom sectors and you can pretty much guarantee that at least one of the pelotonese will immediately kit up, drag the bike from the shed and head out in a determined attempt to regain the lost title.
i'm pretty sure that the same drama is played out all across the western world, very much to the benefit of strava, garmin and wahoo. however, one advantage missing from most but frequently pertaining to the hebrides, is the preponderance of galeforce winds as mentioned above. ploughing into one of these is highly unlikely to add your name to the virtual podium, but turn around and head in the opposite direction and that situation could change very quickly. for those who prefer not to take random chances with the weather, there is kominator, a smartphone app that "assesses current and future wind conditions to help you increase your success for a given segment.".
as one whose participation in such matters is conspicuous by its absence, i have no idea if there are any bona-fide rules or codes of conduct applicable to the means of kom achievement, but it strikes me that the use of such coded assistance skates perilously close to cheating. i'm sure that those involved in the capture of such pixelated glory figure it to be a case of 'all's fair in love and war'; having witnessed a wind-assisted, speedy fly-by while waiting at debbie's it seems my contentions are on solid ground.
as a strava agnostic, i am happy to allow the acolytes to stew in their own juices. but, is it possible that they might have cause to reconsider their laissez-faire attitude with the inexorable encroachment of electrons?
many manufacturers of what we might denote as regular bicycles are now offering electric bikes. most have confined themselves to exploring the more mundane end of the market, bicycles that will be predominantly used by commuting cyclists who perhaps in another time, would have given consideration to either a moped or scooter. but noticeably, several have begun to produce full-blown carbon road bikes that differ from their regular cousins, solely in having made space for a battery and motor, both of which become smaller and smaller as the years roll by.
in my demonstrable naivety, i cannot see where the market for such velocipedes lies. even the mighty dave t, who adds another year at his birthday next month, is quite content to ride aboard a regular carbon road bike with no outside assistance. so, who's going to buy their wares? perhaps the substantial minority who have no earthly chance of ever achieving a strava kom?
however, is this potential state of affairs likely to encourage the stravalites to introduce an e-strava, one with one of those ever-so-clever algorithms that can detect the difference between wind assistance and motor assistance. because if they don't, there will undoubtedly be what french cyclists once referred to as deux vitesses and no idea if the latest impressive sector time was achieved 'clean'.
just saying.
tuesday 23 january 2018
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