i cannot deny that even riding a mere 45 kilometres on christmas day brought benefits rarely seen throughout the year, with the possible exception of islay's annual show day in august. i am, of course, talking about the almost complete lack of encounters with motorised traffic. i mentioned this to mrs washingmachinepost on my return, well before christmas dinner, but her reply simply cast aspersions on my sanity for being out that that time of the morning on the 25th. i prefer to think of that as a cruel and unnecessary bursting of a personal bubble, but actually she might be at least partially correct.
the sequence of events in our house, when the kids were not only a lot younger, but still living at home, involved the opening of way too many presents before any semblance of normal life was allowed to occur. now that we are devoid of children on christmas morning, pretty much anything goes. and when there are festive kilometres to be achieved, it's usually me who goes first. dividing 500 kilometres amongst eight days of ride time equals a daily average of arund 63km, so in order to minimise those of christmas day, it is necessary to either ride a silly distance on christmas eve, or average it all across the remaining days.
time was, even within the last eight years of festive 500-ing, that motorised traffic remained at a minimum throughout, with the christmas/new year period generally considered one big holiday and little need for anyone to travel to work. those days have changed somewhat, with most shops choosing only to remain closed on the 25th and the distinct oddity of the local averagemarket now opening on new year's day. this strikes me as a trifle odd, given that there are no ferries at new year's and thus no incoming supplies. let's face it, if you've not completed your food shopping by hogmanay, then it's pretty much your own fault.
but no matter the shop opening hours or the amount of traffic on the roads over the festive period, while there may not be a universal and enforced 'goodwill to all men/women' in place, i have noted a distinct change in behaviour over the past few days of intrepid cycling.
though none of this may prove relevant to your own geographical situation, a great majority of my festive kilometres are undertaken, of necessity, across the many single track roads that pepper the island. as i have made copious mention of on previous occasions, overtaking on such byways is facilitated by means of the ubiquitous passing place. you may be surprised to know that the highway code specifies the correct procedure for making use of such roadside features, most of which seem to be completely ignored, because i doubt any visitors from the mainland ever found that chapter to be relevant.
at any rate, we in the peloton like to implement the 'honour' system, which loosely means, if we find ourselves closer to a passing place than an oncoming vehicle, we'll use it to get out of the way. in an ideal world, this would be reciprocated by the aforesaid, oncoming vehicle, but not only is that very rarely the case, to be honest, we don't really expect it to be. if someone stops in our favour, we consider it a bonus.
however, during the past few days of festive kilometres, i have found the reduced number of motor vehicles to be populated by those with at least a recognisable strain of festive goodwill. during yesterday's strenuous 91 kilometres, i only once had to stop in favour of a car; all others were courteous enough to do the decent thing. mind you, the old fellow in the corsa on gruinart flats could perhaps have pushed his foot a bit harder on the loud pedal after i pulled over. i was losing daylight.
it would be nice to think that this state of affairs will continue throughout 2019, but i seriously doubt it will last even until the end of this year. for no reason that i can fathom, as we approach hogmanay, islay becomes the world capital of audi, range rover, jaguar and bmw sports utility vehicles (to give them their proper name). though it's perhaps unfair to make sweeping generalisations, their attitudes often leave a great deal to be desired.
but i've been wrong before.
sunday 30 december 2018
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................a few year's past, in conjunction with islay house, once the home of islay estate owners, but currently an upmarket hotel, a group of three gents visited islay on the day prior to the official opening of fèis ìle, more commonly referred to as the islay festival of malt and music, or simply, the islay whisky festival. their intention, of which i became an almost unwitting part, was to cycle round each and every distillery on the isle, for which appropriate garmentage had been prepared. the four cyclists of the apocalypse were clad in tour de islay jerseys and had kindly brought one for myself. unfortunately, given my rather slim build, the jersey was an xl and had to be donned over the top of a softshell jacket. given the inclemency of the weather that day, i believe i may have had the better deal.
at any rate, we were due to set off from ardbeg distillery, the most southerly on the island, at 9am, travelling quickly along the road to both lagavulin and eventually laphroaig. disappointingly, they were half-an-hour late, by which point, figuring they were no longer riding, i was already a mile or so along the road in a homeward direction. having been passed by their van featuring three bicycles on a rear rack, i took the hint and returned to ardbeg.
any of you who have attempted the same, or even a partial tour of islay's distilleries by bicycle, will perhaps have realised that, while incorporating all into a day's worth of daylight is hardly an onerous task, actually doing other than passing through without recourse to a tour or a dram, is a far harder ask. the original plan, made concrete by the carriage of rubber distillery stamps and brevet cards, had been to leave such specifics at each location, paving the way for others to do likewise in subsequent years. though at least one of the gents was acting on behalf of the scotch malt whisky society, it was a bright idea that never actually saw the light of day.
inexplicably, both cards and stamps returned to scotland in the back of the van.
not unnaturally, a trip such as this brought with it an attendant need for documentation, in the shape of a photographer and a videographer, commissioned by the society's in-house 'unfiltered' magazine. for those who figure this to be a flight of fancy, imagined by a cycling teetotaller, i have appended a link to a short video of the escapade. and while the latter takes only a brief two minutes forty-nine seconds to watch, i can assure you, it took a darned sight longer to film. the phrase "could we just do that one more time?", became the (dreaded) slogan of the day.
those of you who perhaps figure this may be something of a wizard wheeze to undertake in 2019, far from wishing to impose any discouragement, i too, think it would indeed be a wizard wheeze, but i would soundly persuade you to think about doing so sooner, rather than later. and i will now continue to explain precisely why.
if you recall the opening section of the tour de islay, commencing at ardbeg and including the neighbouring distilleries at lagavulin and laphroaig, covers only a portion of those to be included in the undertaking. to speed matters just a tad, i guided my fellow pelotoneers along what is locally known as the 'glen road', accessed from the high road and exiting at ballygrant towards the north end of the island. apart from the picturesque nature of this route and distinct lack of motor traffic, it placed us nicely to choose between visiting either caol ila, bunnahabhain or vice versa. however, as with many an idyllic location in the west, changes are afoot, changes that will stretch the fortitude of the less-than-committed cycling whisky aficionado.
of the first three distilleries mentioned, at present, laphroaig is the last, some eleven miles distant from its nearest neighbour in bowmore. however, elixir spirits, owned by a gent with a distinctly unhebridean name (sukhinder singh), currently have a planning application before argyll and bute council to build a new distillery at farkin, midway between laphroaig and port ellen village. and as if that were insufficient means to delay velocipedinal haste northwards, diageo are in the process of reviving port ellen distillery, the original buildings of which they demolished not so many years ago. currently, only the pagodas survive, situated behind the brutal looking port ellen maltings.
were the scotch malt whisky society to have followed through with their stamps and card strategy, the intrepid cyclist would now have a total of five visitations to make before leaving the environs of islay's kildalton region. but if this news has given cause for you to revise your itinerary, assuming we continue along the previously mentioned pathway to caol ila and bunnahabhain in the north, there is yet another distillery, on the road to the latter, and in the final throes of completion, at ardnahoe. for the numerically challenged, when all is completed, that will engender a total of eleven distilleries against which your bicycles will have the opportunity to lean. to say nothing of the distillery at craighouse on the neighbouring island of jura.
but, in the words of comedian 'jiminy cricket', 'there's more'.
approximately two miles from bowmore village, past the local landfill site and currently accessible only by way of an unpaved farm track, lies gartbreck. since the last tenants moved out some four years ago, the house has been lying empty. currently owned by a french gentleman whose plans to turn it into a small cottage distillery, similar to one already in production in france, seem to have been on indefinite hold for an ever-extending number of years. should he ever get his act together, that would provide a tour de islay consisting of twelve stages (so to speak).
so, if 2019 is the year in which you have sights firmly set on riding your own tour de islay, start booking stuff now before it's too late. unless, of course, your desire for the amber nectar outweighs that of your cycling proclivities, in which case, you might wish to wait a year or two until farkin and port ellen have assumed a more concrete reality and the frenchman moves into gartbreck.
and people wonder why our roads are in such a state.
saturday 29 december 2018
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................george orwell's '1984' was published in june 1949 and we must assume that the narrative encapsulated orwell's vision of how world society would have developed some 35 years later. not a particularly lengthy period of time, it has to be admitted. perhaps similarly, but a tad more trivial in conception, was the space age, hanna-barbera cartoon, the jetsons. though no specific time period was cited for their future activities, considering the original series was broadcast in 1962, one must assume that the writers had the 21st century in mind. yet, here we are, into the second decade of that particular century and flying cars and domestic robotic contraptions are still hardly de rigeur.
but it's not only the writers of fiction who appear to have been well wide of the mark when guessing what our future might be like. around the advent of the apple macintosh in, of all times, 1984, prognostications of how computing would change civilisation gave considerable cause for rejoicing. according to those-in-the-know, computers would take over the more mundane chores in society, leaving the human race free to enjoy its increased leisure time. allegedly, we'd need only to pop into the office around two days a week. of course, what wasn't foreseen was that the owners of this enhanced computing power, fellows such as bill gates, steve jobs et al, would keep the generated wealth pretty much all to themselves.
if you were only in the office a couple of times a week, then you'd only get two days' pay. meanwhile, individuals like amazon's jeff bezos, also owner of the washington post, (not to be confused with thewashingmachinepost), a gent who has unquestionably altered the course of society, is currently worth an estimated $160 billion. hardly the redistribution of wealth that our historical analysts had foretold.
it would, however, be hard to argue against the fact that computers have completely transformed modern society, particularly if we acknowledge that the smartphone is simply a computer that fits in a pocket. and though we may like to promote the healthy and active lifestyle engendered by polyester, lycra and merino wool, to say nothing of skinny tyres and bendy bars, it's one that has become almost as dependent on computing power as has today's average teenager. handlebars festooned with gps units, heart rate monitors, power-meters, digital video cameras and the like, not to mention electric gear-changing, strava, zwift and e-bikes, means that what was once a particularly analogue activity, has been seriously infiltrated by the zeros and ones of binary code.
even this far west, where i'm sure the average mainlander thinks we still live in thatched cottages on the croft, surrounded by sheep, cattle and fields of barley, with power supplied by means of a car battery or a water wheel in a babbling brook, the mighty dave-t is probably the only one amongst the peloton to ride without any computing power whatsoever. we may not be fast, but we are easily influenced.
personally, i have a garmin edge strapped to the bars, mostly for the clock, because i don't wear a watch. it's the readout which i've installed at the top of the screen because it's really all i'm interested in, though when involved in pedalling either the 'ride of the falling rain', or, as at present, the rapha festive 500, i do like to keep tabs on the distances covered. granted, strava knows nothing of this, and it's very likely to remain that way for the foreseeable future: fact.
but though every cloud apparently sports a silver-lining, it has a corollary; the need for a constant supply of electricity. and that's sort of where the house of cards fell down about my ears yesterday morning. on completing my 85 kilometres on boxing day, it appears that i neglected to switch off the garmin, left lying on the kitchen table. on thursday morning, switching it on prior to the grand départ, gave rise to a welcome message that seriously undermined my sense of joy.
'low battery'.
actually, it wasn't kidding; zero percentage certainly counts as 'low', utterly defeating any point in attempting to make use of the device at all. therefore, i headed out into the wide grey yonder, without recourse to any digital enhancement: no speed, no distance, no time, no average speed and no calorific indicator. i can see several folks at the back of the room already beginning to develop nervous twitches.
however, this lack of accountability was most liberating, with no chance of satisfying any mid-ride curiousity as to how far was left to travel, whether i'd be too early for lunch at debbie's and whether my perceived rate of exertion was anywhere near the region formerly tracked by garmin's electrons and liquid crystal display. it's a state of affairs i could easily get used to, with nothing to do but ride as fast as i can and watch the scenery pass by. i doubt, however, that i'd be joined by many of my fellow pelotoneers.
if you're wondering how i managed to accurately measure the distance covered on thursday, i sneakily followed precisely the same route as i did on boxing day, one that was measured by the garmin. at least it still has a legacy use.
friday 28 december 2018
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................like many of you, i am now four days into my attempt on the 2018 rapha festive 500, and things are progressing a darned sight better than has been the case in previous years. last year. the forecast for the week indicated that i would probably struggle to stay in one piece on the thursday, due to some serious meteorological incursions. however, that particular front passed us by. therefore, having worked on the basis of completing the challenge across seven rather than eight days, i reached my 500 kilometres two days ahead of schedule.
this year, the forecast for the week is/was, pretty darned good. in fact, on christmas eve, islay awoke to santa's favourite pizza: deep pan, crisp and even, with delightful blue skies, sunshine and very little wind. the weather since then has been a tad more overcast, but still dry and with nothing like the winds this island is famous for. nonetheless, ambition inevitably gets the better of pragmatism and i currently find myself a handful of kilometres ahead of schedule. in fact, it occurs to me that so doing, might count more as pragmatism than real pragmatism, for if anything untoward occurs over the next few days, i at least have a buffer zone.
but, though the festive kilometres commenced on christmas eve, it will not have escaped your attention that this was preceded by a weekend, meaning a reasonable distance on saturday and the annual mince-pie ride on sunday. that means that, as of this morning, i have spent six consecutive days on the bicycle, more than i've achieved since this time last year and longer than one or two uci sanctioned races held over the course of the season.
granted, my average speed could probably be measured with a calendar rather than a garmin, but given my advancing years, i'm probably putting in every bit as much effort as do the professionals. then again, perhaps not, but it's a deal more comforting to think in those terms as the kilometres tick slowly by. and try as i might, aided by consultation of ned boulting's road book, i can think of no racing event that involves stopping at debbie's midway through for a soy cappuccino and a cheese and tomato toastie.
professionalism, however, doesn't always follow the same path.
the difference here, as i was reminded yesterday by one of the velo club peloton also intent on those 500 kilometres, is that we're pretty much getting up early every day of the holidays, clambering into lycra, polyester and merino and attempting to hurt ourselves in order to reach home before mrs washingmachinepost opens the back door with rolling pin in hand. and rather than expecting a large silver trophy, a bouquet of flowers and a cuddly lion, we're doing all this for an embroidered roundel.
and there's the difference.
thursday 27 december 2018
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................while the legend, as written by yours truly, would have it that i am built of bulletproof construction, a hardy gent who laughs in the face of meteorological adversity, that is merely my public persona, one that owes more than a soupcon to rhetoric. in truth, the only one amongst us to be regularly seen still wearing fingerless track mitts past mid-october, is likely to be the mighty dave-t, whose career kept him out of doors for many months of the year. yet, despite my tough exterior and minimal layering, i like to keep my hands as warm as i can.
but aside from this clamouring after digital heat, i prefer gloves to perform their secondary winter function by not only preventing hands from slipping south of the brake levers, but offering additional comfort and joy in the process. though brian smith is renowned in certain circles for riding without recourse to gloves of any flavour, i far prefer the additional comfort offered by a decent pair of gloves, whether track mitts in the heat of summer (a little hebridean humour there), or more substantial envelopment come autumn, winter and probably spring.
the second of those seasons is most definitely the one in which you'd also prefer your hand garmentage to be not only cosy, but pretty much watertight. the latter feature is surely the holy grail that everyone seeks, but doesn't always achieve. it's also a largely unattainable goal, if only because of the construction of human beings. i can't be the only one to have noticed that my arms assume a downward position when on the levers or drops, encouraging gravity to allow any precipitations to seep into any unattended nooks and crannies. probably the best example of this can be seen with relation to otherwise waterproof overshoes. as soon as those bibtights get waterlogged, you just know it's heading for your socks.
however, every now and again, someone manages to get it right, and i'm pretty sure that portland's showers pass have done so this time round. their crosspoint knitted gloves, aside from being considerably less bulky than many waterproof gloves i have in the glove drawer, give every indication of being 'ordinary', while being far from it. there's no item of cycle clothing i know of, that's as breathable as a cyclist needs it to be, but these gloves make a pretty good stab at it, despite the cuffs having been tucked inside the sleeves of my jacket. but yet, in the heavy rain that i thought was only a passing shower, they were pretty close to invincible.
one of the disadvantages of winter, however is the imposition of less favourable temperatures, usually ameliorated by the intrepid cyclist simply by riding harder. sadly, feet and hands rarely benefit from such an enforced flurry of activity, highlighting possibly the only obvious downside to the crosspoint gloves. if i'm really honest, i'd have preferred them to be just a smidgeon more thermal in their ministrations, particularly when the ambient temperature is only marginally above freezing. however, in such extenuating circumstances, i have a pair of gloves that are larger than they need to be and under which the crosspoints fit quite snugly.
if you are of a hebridean disposition, or have leanings in that direction, irrespective of true nationality, these are most definitely amongst the finest hand waterproofing i have had the pleasure of wearing. and at £38 per pair, purchasing really isn't a hard decision to make.
the showers pass crosspoint knitted gloves are available in grey and sizes ranging from small to xl. | showers pass crosspoint knitted wool gloves
wednesday 26 december 2018
..........................................................................................................................................................................................................there's probably some sort of calculation or prognostication that can be accessed by those intent on either avoiding inclement weather or, in this particular case, access those very conditions. my colleagues in the office often hope that i have waterproofs of one flavour or another on request, since the minute such garmentage arrives, the weather is all but guaranteed to be devoid of precipitation for the foreseeable future. i have lost count of the occasions on which i have had to contact the supplier(s) of such to assure them i have not forgotten to review their product. i doubt that such happenstances are mine alone; that would simply be stretching credibility a tad too far.
yet, here i am, on the west coast of scotland, renowned for its rainfall, apologising for the absence of the latter. do i really think anyone's going to believe that?
let me offer the current item as the ideal example. but a few weeks ago, i arose to a most pleasant morning. equitable temperature, large swathes of blue sky and considerably less wind than is usually the case. dressing accordingly, i headed out for the usual saturday morning/afternoon ride, stopping at deb's for a double-egg roll and a soy cappuccino. i should point out that dressing for the occasion meant a complete absence of overshoes, though i did hedge my bets by wearing a apir of waterproof socks.
midway through my perambulations, a shower of rain broached the peace and quiet, but believing this to be a temporary aberration, i continued upon my merry way. as it transpired, the shower was anything but temporary and just to add insult to injury, the precipitation gradually became heavier and yet heavier, until i was wishing i'd taken scuba gear rather than modest waterproofing. and the lack of overshoes was beginning to nag at the back of my winter cap as a missed opportunity.
paying heed to the mantra 'once bitten, twice shy', i dutifully wore the overshoes for the following day's sunday ride, only to be greeted with sunshine that just got better and better as the kilometres passed by. you've no idea just how embarrassing it is to dwell on a scottish hebridean island and have to apologise for a lack of rain. it's perhaps worh my pointing out that the weeks in between featured copious amounts of precipitation; i simply wasn't in the right place to take advantage of it.
however, reparations have now been made and rain has been ridden in for an appropriate period of time. the lengthy wait has proved highly beneficial on behalf of prendas ciclismo, for these are indeed excellent overshoes. they feature a rear zip, bordered by reflective material, that selflessly kept not only the rain at bay, but the spray rising from the front tyre as i manfully, yet unsuccessfully, tried to avoid the puddles. constructed from a thin, fleece-backed fabric, i figure it would take a serious amount of rain to break through their defences, though due to the cleat holes on the sole, no pair of overshoes can ever be 100% waterproof.
i did try them on over a pair of offroad style footwear, but to be honest, the form factor does make it a bit awkward to ease them on without the huffing and puffing that accompanies the majority of winter-wear. pull them on over a stylish pair of three-point cleat road shoes and svelte is the word that will immediately spring to mind. i swear i was around 3kph quicker. if pushed to offer any valid criticism, in temperatures marginally above freezing, i wouldn't have minded them being just a smidgeon more toasty, but then, the same argument could be levelled at the (non-prendas) gloves i was wearing at the time.
i have long contended that andy storey needs to get himself a new calculator, because i find it hard to believe that quality at this level can be had for a mere £29.99. if i were you, i'd order a pair or two before he realises the device needs new batteries.
prendas pro rain overshoes are available in black only and in sizes ranging from small (39/40) up to xxl (47/48) at a retail cost of £29.99 per pair. prendas pro rain overshoes
monday 24 december 2018
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