Last week the plan was simple, do a 30 miler on Thursday then a short ride on Saturday, but as always seems to be the way with my rides lately the weather was to be incredibly bleak, I decided to skip Thursday and ride the 30 miler Saturday instead, With my schedule set in stone I went about completly ignoring it, getting up early Saturday and heading to Danbury Common for some mid air madness instead. Tom Jones (I shit you not) turns out to be reliable for the yoof of today, turning up as planned about 7:30, (Leighton take note, it is possible to leave early for a ride!) I had already loaded the car up, TJ had left his bike at mine the previous day as his rear shock needed replacing. To be fair so did all the bearings and one of the bearing axles but TJ was happy to bodge it back together for the ride out. Good man!. We arrived in great time with no crappy traffic on the usually rubbish A12, got geared up and took the short ride to the trail head. Danbury is funny, the first few runs always feel rubbish, dragging the brakes, getting lines all wrong, no flow and in TJ's case stacking it on the first run but you soon warm to it, then without any realization it all clicks together, your flying through berms launching over 10ft tabletops and popping manuals off everything possible as smooth and as fast as Sonic the Hedgehog on ice, wearing a tux and smoking a cigar, at least that's what it feels like. After reaching normal operating temperatures (it was cold at 9 in the AM) TJ decided to pull his, what I can only call usual trick of throwing up all over the side of the trail, but the guys got guts (snigga) he assured me he felt much better, we continued to hit lines for another hour and a half after that and he was fine, flying in fact! After a while though it became apparent that the bodged on bearings were less than fine, the arse of his bike was wobbling everywhere, up and down side to side so we decided to call it a day. Back at the car sausage rolls were consumed with gusto and washed down with protein bars and water, surprisingly TJ didn't throw this concoction up and we headed home with the whole afternoon still ahead of us. Some times you just can't beat an early morning assault.
Check out th vid.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZK_6EXtxA0
Sunday 11 December 2011
Monday 5 December 2011
Sunday 4 December 2011
Sunday bloody Sunday!
The Trek was overdue some TLC, there had been a few issues plaguing it but nothing serious enough to stop me riding, the pistons in my juicy carbons were sticking and I'd put off repairing everything else as I was waiting for the pistons to come. With the pistons turning up I spent a few hours Friday alone in the shed with nothing but the brilliant white light of my Magicshine for company. Sorting the pistons was a painless task, if not a little time consuming, after this a close inspection of the rest ensued and it was like opening a can of worms. The rear mech was bent, play had developed in the Bottom Bracket (BB) and I found a broken spoke in the rear wheel, the rear freehub was a mess and the bearings in the rear wheel felt like they were filled with grit. There was no time to order specific parts before the race on Sunday so the rear mech was gently teased back straight - ish (well it worked anyway) The bearings were removed cleaned and re-greased in the rear wheel and the free hub cleaned up, I had a spare spoke kicking about in the shed so this was threaded into the wheel and the wheel was trued up. The BB was left as I knew I couldn't get hold of a spare.(think I'll try the Superstar GXP one next as the Truvativ ones are proper pants). Feeling satisfied with my efforts I was looking forward to race day.
Beeb Beep. Beep Beep, my alarm was ringing out. It was race day. I had trained well and was confident I could improve on my last result, I wheeled the Trek out and decided to give it a quick spin. Disaster struck! The top Jockey wheel threw itself like a Kamikaze into the sharp rotating teeth of the rear cassette, it appears that the thread on the screw of the jockey wheel had been ruined in the original impact or the bending of it straight, either way the mech was dead. I could get a mech at the race. So I threw some tools into the car, got my shit together and headed off. Arriving at FR10 the bike was unloaded in a rush and I headed over to the very helpful chaps at the Chelmer Cycles stand who supplied me with a mech, some gear outer and inner, and the use of some cutters. Thanks guys. Now. And this was the straw that broke the camels back. Whilst rushing about trying to get sorted I had grown aware that my stomach was not happy, but after all the effort of the last few days this race was going to happen. But first I needed to go to the port-a-loos. Desperately. After queuing for some time on the verge of all sorts of accidents a port-a-loo became available, lets not get to bogged down in this (pardon the pun) I'll just say it was messy! and that was it, time had elapsed the race took off with out me. A fume-army rushed over me, all the training, the hours spent in the shed all for nothing. Sometimes no matter how hard you try everything is against you, I should have stayed in bed. Instead I got up at 7am, dragged my better half to Thetford, dropped £30 quid on a Deore rear mech, some cable and a chain link, made a mess in a port-a-loo and then drove home. In an Alan Partridge style all I can say is Sunday bloody Sunday.
Friday 2 December 2011
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