Puddle bashing

This crazy weather continues and my new found interest in riding was not to be foiled. I broke out the secret speed and went for a pedal through all manner of puddles and mud near the golf course. Of course, the secret speed started acting up again in low gears and it took all my self control not to throw it into the nearest creek. I will be getting rid of the alfine very shortly I suspect as it just isn’t worth the heart ache. I’ll flog it off cheap with full disclosure and I am sure someone out there with better knowledge than I will find a way to  make it work (or just use it as a paperweight).  Of course, with the Aussie dollar so strong, Rohloffs are now down to about $1500.00 Aud so there is every possibility I might start playing with one if I can persuade the minister of finance. Then again – that same amount would get a lovely titanium 29er frame which I clearly need to do tour divide on 🙂

Dusting off the alfine

Things were a little stale for me earlier in the year and I thought I could add a new layer of intrigue with the alfine. It was quite the adventure to actually find one that was available and when i got it all together and on the bike, my expectations were high. They quickly soured when I had seemingly endless shift quality problems with it. Seemingly in the lower gears the bike would ghost shift and make all sorts of horrific noises  however I could never get the problem to occur while in the workstand. I would play with it, think I had everything running correctly and all would be sweet for the first 5 k’s and then it would start all over again on the first solid climb.

I cracked it, put the bike in the corner, stopped riding, got fat and took on a 24 hour event for a pet project.

Today I decided to have another go at it. I didn’t do anything other than re-align the shift alignment marks, put some air in the tyres and take it for a ride. However it worked perfectly. I wasn’t offroad which may be the key since I was just humming along the Fernleigh cycle path with the Mrs but it is the longest I have ridden the bike without swearing at it since I got it. It gives me hope that I might be able to get it tuned up and working eventually.

I’m also feeling a little more interested in riding again and will be dusting off the road bike as well so that I can start the commute to work. There is no faster way for me to ‘get some legs’ again than the daily commute. Currently the weather looks terrible but I’m going to harden up and ride anyway because I have found waaaaaay to many excuses not to ride of late and its time they stopped. Its time to get fit again!

Back home

My last day in NZ were spent swimming against Good Friday traffic to arrive at Woodhill mountain bike park in Auckland in the late afternoon.

This is an interesting place as it is another privately own trail which charges a $7.00 per day admission fee to riders. It has a ‘pro-shop’ at the carpark and is quite a slick operation.

Unfortunately, there were two things that really detract from the experience. Firstly, the trails are very sandy. Very very sandy. Thankfully I was riding them on a day when it had rained heavily otherwise I expect the trails would be all but useless. Certainly, you’d have to be a tosser on a Pugsley with a smirk of self satisfaction about you to find them enjoyable.

Secondly, this place was the very essence of “Mc Trail”. Homogenized, lobotomized, Sanitized trails which really failed to inspire me. It could have been my sore back which stopped me riding about 2 hours into proceedings, but I just couldn’t get behind these trails. It was just more noodly pine forrest single track where the most I could say about it was ‘meh’.

I am now back home and it seems I learnt a few lessons on boxing up a bike from the dings obtained during the outward trip and it appears all has returned safe and sound. Tomorrow I’ll go for a spin around glenrock and enjoy being home again.

Back in Rotorua

Today I had grand plans of riding a track at whiriniki. Google maps gave me two distinct routes. One which followed the main highway and was listed as just over 3 hours long, while the other took back roads and was listed as closer to 4 hours long. I had already driven much of the shorter route and decided that a trip on some of the lesser known roads would be a nice change. I consulted the tourist map I had and it showed the route as “minor road”.

What a stupid decision that was. It turns out that there was actually 105 kms of unsealed goat track along the alternative route where I was struggling to average 40kph. By the time I realized what was in store, I was well past the point of no-return. Picture a single lane gravel road winding its way through countless hairpin bends on the side of a cliff in the rain in a vehicle which you had a signed agreement indicating you would stick to sealed roads.

The trip ended up taking closer to 6 hours and by the time I finally go to the whirinaki turn off, I had lost all enthusiasm for riding and headed for the nearest coffee establishment. A lost day, an adventure and an excuse to rest some tired legs. It wasn’t what I had planned from the day, but I guess it had value none the less.

Pan Pac Eskdale mtb park – Hawkes Bay/Napier

This morning saw a 4.5 hour drive from Wellington to Napier It was a glorious day which saw me rapidly shedding layers as I drove the #2 highway through rolling valleys and sheep and pasture as far as the eye could see. The significance of the #2 highway is that it doesn’t go up into the central plateau region and while you can still see the mountains in all their snow capped glory as you drive past, I was grateful to be in the lowlands judging by the colour and intensity of hte cloud formations up there.

I arrived at Napier around 1pm and I was out on the bike in Eskdale park by 2pm (after a pie stop of course). First off, the map just looks crazy, like a child has squiggled on a wall with a crayon – lines going everywhere. There is meant to be over 80kms of single track and a further 25 k’s of fire roads and it is the biggest club in NZ. The trail is also on private land and you have to buy a pass to use the trails – $7.00 for a 3 week pass (or alternatively be a club member).

I was expecting big things from the descriptions but I was decidedly underwhelmed by the rusty gate and small sign that signified the trail head. It was clearly going to be another series of pine forrest trails and I headed out with map in hand wondering what to expect. With the shear number of trails and intermittent signage, I was often at a loss as to figure out where to go or even if I was going in the right direction on the trail. Not that it seemed to matter. There was scarcely a sole to be seen. In fact, when you stopped and listened closely you could hear… absolutely nothing. Not a bird call, not a branch fall, not a breathe of wind. It was spookily quiet and not altogether welcoming.

I rode around on random trails for a while before deciding that all the fun must be at the top of the hill (Isn’t it always?). I decided to climb the fire road because I couldn’t figure out which trails would let me climb up there on single track. It was another long grinding climb and at one point I took a wrong fork and climbed for 15 minutes in the wrong direction.

Eventually I made it to the top and took a winding descending trail back to the bottom. I think it was the first time I have ever wished for 8″ brake rotors. There was the distinct aroma of cooked brake pads when I pulled up at a trail junction half way down the hill.

When I got to the bottom, I decided it was time to head for home. The eerie quiet in the forrest was starting to un-nerve me and I wasn’t overly captivated by the trails. There were just more pine forrest trail and I have done that plenty of times in the past. As I got back to the van, two guys were kitting up and about to head out. This was the first time I had actually been at a trail head at the same time as anyone else all trip. So I asked them if they minded if I could tag along and they were more than happy to show me around.

So I spent the next hour chasing guys on long travel specialized enduros (and having a hoot doing it). All of a sudden the trails weren’t so cold, lonely and sterile when there was company and the chatting cut through the quiet to reveal a thoroughly captivating set of trails. It turned out I had done most of the trails before however there was also something rewarding about being able to cut loose knowing full well that there were no nasty surprises around the next corner.

We finally finished around 5pm and I thanked Dave and Andrew before heading back to the caravan park for a beer. Eskdale didn’t rock my world but they are a great set of trails to ride if you aren’t on your own and someone can show you around (aren’t all trails?).

Who know what tomorrow will bring. I have a half formed plan in my mind based on something Dave wastelling me about and I am off now to research it some more. 

Makara peak – Wellington

This morning dawned as though I was on a different planet from yesterday. Miraculously, the storm had blown itself out overnight leaving a glorious cloud and wind free morning.

It was cold, around 7 degrees and I shivered while I waited for the heater to start warming the van. Breakfast was a lazy affair and I was on the road and following my google maps cue sheet by 0830.

I decided to stop for some groceries and then pulled over on a whim to grab a coffee from a cute little cafe on Jackson st. This proved to be an expensive coffee as the minute I heard the car door slam, I knew the keys were still inside. I grimaced, then chuckled and then decided I would go get a coffee while I figured out what to do. I have long ago come to peace with the realiztion that I am the sole reason there are so many locksmiths in this world. I could get angry with it, or I could see the funny side while sipping an expresso and mulling over the latest stuff up.

I enabled data roaming on the iphone and googled a locksmith and within an hour I was back in the car and on my way. I even had time for a second coffee – score. Plus the locksmith was a nice guy.

When I got to Makara peak, I cut off the old foamie grips and finally got around to installing the shiny new  lockons I had bought in Taupo. Only to realize that the same size allen key that was required for my avid brake pad retintion bolt was also the same size as lockon rings.

I recalled seeing a bike shop close by and this time I bought the mother of all multi tools as a permanent reminder of the importance of bringing the right tools. That particular sized allen key shan’t be a problem for me for the remainder of the trip. This multi tool has two in that size!

When I finally got to start riding, it was around 10:30 and it was spectacular conditions. Around 15 degrees with a slight breeze and glorious, glorious sunshine. I followed the suggested loop by the guy at the bike shop and slowly wound my way through the trees before starting to climb up above the thicker undergrowth to the shorter shrubs higher up the hill. WHAT A VIEW. It was simply stunning. The trail was  a brilliant climb as it followed the contours around the sides of numerous ridges and ravines while all the while climbing in something like 32×18 – it would be a sensational single speed hill. It has that same magical feel as the switchback climb at stromlo where you suddenly look down and thing “how the hell did I get all the way up here”, except this trail doesn’t just have switchbacks for switchbacks sake. It was possibly my favourite ever climb.

The descent along ridge-line was simply amazing. It had ruts, it had views and it had something that nowhere else I have ridden in NZ so far had – rocks. Lots of rocks. It was techy and tricky and just about perfect. As you progressed further down the hill, the trail morphed into the traditional NZ bermed corner switchback descents but it was so seamless as to leave me inspired to do the whole thing over again.

The second climb took half the time as I wasn’t stopping to take photos every 2 minutes. The iphone is my sole remaining camera and it is a poor substitute for my canon but it will have to do.

This time I chose to take Zacs track and link it up with something called vertigo. I like the sound of that trail. Again it was a sensational descent but when I arrived at the trail head for Vertigo, I was greated by warning signs which noted it as an extreme trail. All alone with no-one for miles, I scratched my head and then decided it was the only trail on this part of the mountain that pointed anywhere near the car so I was going to have to ride it.

It seems that ‘exterme trails’ in NZ are another name for fall line trails that mimic the super sketchy descents you see in Aus which are made by school kids in the holidays and only ever half finished. While the trail was intersting, I have ridden things that blew my hair back far more in the last few days and was left scratching my head wondering if half the cogheads were ‘exterme mountain bikers’ and just didnt’ know it.

There was one memorable section with a succession of knee height rock steps which appeared around a blind corner. There was a resounding hiss of air as I burped the front tyre on the first step and then an even louder burp on the second step whereby I gracefully pirhoetted over the handlebars and rolled around in the dirt for a while. Amusing stuff, I managed to get a picture of it but as usual, the camera doesn’t do it justice. I suspect it would be quite a lot of fun on a 6 inch travel bike but the anthem was just a bit too steep in the head angle to let you attack the drops with the degree of gusto they required.

I thought about a third lap but it was now getting late and my back is starting to protest over the sudden increase in K’s this week and is giving me some pain after 4 or so hours in the saddle. Next time I come to NZ I am going to be super fit and smash this climb 4 or 5 times.

I am off to Napier tomorrow bright and earlier and will hopefully be on the trails in the early afternoon.

Somehow the trail snakes around all those bends and winds ups climbing right to the very top.

Random section of single track. Not the drop away to nothing if you get off line. It was quite exhilarating as you flew around blind corners on descents

The top

Section of ridgeline trail. Best trail ever, I shit you not

Warning sign

The reasons for the warnings.

Taupo – Wellington

The day started at a brisk 10 degrees. It took me twenty minutes of concentration to summon the will power to leave the warm doona and face the day. I didn’t really have a plan for what I was going to do although I had already booked a second nights accommodation at Taupo so I was planning on staying.

I have heard many good things about the trails at Taupo. The ‘craters of the moon’ is apparently the spot to go to and so I packed my little wagon and headed off to find said trails. Somehow I had completely missed them when I was last in Taupo and the looks on peoples faces when I said I had been to Taupo but hadn’t ridden the trails was enough to fill me with vigour to actually make it happen this time.

Arriving at the carpark, it was raining and the wind was starting to pick up. I bought my trail map and then put on lots of warm stuff including my Gortex Jacket which was my saviour as the rain only intensified.

There is something about NZ soil which just makes every corner into a test to see just how hard you can rail it. Absolute hero dirt. I would deliberately come into corners and lay the bike over at ridiculous angles – enough that in Australia it would see you with a face full of dirt as the front wheel washed out, and you would just rail your way through the turn and think you hadn’t really pushed hard enough. It was grin inducing.

The lower trails at ‘craters of the moon’ reminded me of a wider version of Sparrow Hill. All the climbing was gentle, there were no nasty surprises, the trail meandered through a pine forest and the corners were nicely bermed. It was a great way to warm the legs up before I started to pick my way further up the hill.

The higher up the hill you ventured, the more ‘difficult’ the trail ratings and the more fun was on offer. I think I rode 75% of the trails and it was insanely fun. There were  lumps and corners and tree roots and all manner of things to play with. I ended up riding for 4 hours in the freezing cold (I lost all feeling in my toes) and started to bonk at the furthers possible point from the carpark (why is it that you never bonk 0.5k’s from home?). I shovelled the last of my food in and made a B-line for the carpark, which meant negotiating untold kilometres of winding single track with no real idea where I was.

Overall, I think I liked ‘craters of the moon’ at least as much as I liked Rotorua. There weren’t the same never ending descents that come with Rotorua however there also wasn’t the same brutal fire road grinding climbs to get to it. The climbs at ‘craters of the moon’ were all single track and I was even overjoyed to see switchbacks after all that fireroads I had suffered up the day before.

When I finally found the carpark again, I found a hose, washed down my bike, put on some warm clothes and headed straight back to the caravan park for a hot shower.

I failed on the first attempt and had to go back for another go. I weighed up the cost of my pride vs the cost of a new derailleur and pride got the better of me

Yes, this was as fun as it looked. Actually, the photo didn’t quite do it justice

This was like the sallad bowl except three times as high and three times as long

Another view of the uber bowl

The only thing that got me warm again after ‘craters of the moon’

Finally traffic slowed at some road works and I could bust out the camera

**There ends anything riding related in this story. The next bit is the insane drive that followed. For all those who view this blog for riding content – tune out now**

After the hot shower, I Grabbed some food, bought some lock on grips (who the hell thought foamies in New Zealand weather was a good idea) and then decided to head for Wellington. There is a Mountain bike park there with a good reputation and the trail maps looked interesting so I thought I would give it a go.

The wind was now really howling and combined with the bumpy single lane roads, it was a real handful to keep Lucy on the blacktop. Every gust of wind would send the van skittling across the road (mostly due to the big canopy ontop combined with the vans relatively light weight) and it actually became quite daunting. Switch off for a split second to admire the view and you were hitting the rumble strips with your heart in your mouth. At least it wasn’t raining.

As I started to climb up onto the plateau, the rain started. Lightly at first but enough to make you have to concentrate even harder through the streaky windscreen. There was plenty of things to gape at however,; snow capped volcanoes, amazing valleys and grand lake views and while it was sketchy, at least the road was pretty straight.

As we reached the top of the plateau, the road seemed to concertina into a series of death bends. On the New Zealand number 1 highway, there were corners with advisory signs of 25kph.  It seems I had also found the vehicle that corresponded to those normally pessimistic road signs. Every time I would look at the speedo and think “oooh, I’ve over cooked this one” I would be doing 30 kph and nervously chuckle to myself that this vans chassis dynamics were the benchmark which below all other cars were deemed un-roadworthy. At least visibility was reasonable, even through the rain smeared screen.

The road kept climbing and soon enough I was in the clouds. Visibility now dropped to less than 100 meters and looking across the tundra it was a chilling experience to see the sunlight filtering through the streaming clouds over a wind swept wasteland. Thank god it wasn’t snowing.

Yes, you guessed it, the next corner saw the first tell tale drifts of snow. Sleet was now pelting the windscreen and the slippery conditions just got a whole lot more skatey. To be honest, I hadn’t given a second thought to the conditions when I left Taupo, I had just googled the route and decided that 4 hours 50 minutes sounded manageable with a 2 pm departure and set to it. Now I was scuttling my way across a frozen wasteland, barely able to see where I was going and no clue what lay ahead. At least things couldn’t get much worse than this. I’ll be the first to admit that I am a total noob when it comes to driving in the snow and didn’t quite know what to expect however I was certain this wouldn’t have been my weapon of choice to attempt it for the first time.

I just had to think it didn’t I. The very next sign I encountered stated “Military training area: Live fire and ordinance may explode on either side of the road”. Well, that just takes the cake. Only NZ would route their main highway through the middle of a live fire range. To recap, it was blowing at least 50-60 kph winds, visibility was 100m, it was raining/sleeting, snow lined the roads and I was in a shooting gallery – outstanding!

After several lifetimes, the road started to descend and before I knew it, I was out of the clouds and amongst some of the most spectacular rolling hills I have ever seen. The sun would break through at regular intervals and light up the most amazing panoramas and I would smile to myself as I fought to keep my little van on the road.

The next 3 hours were more of the same eventually I was in the outskirts of Wellington. I knew I was headed for a caravan park in Lower Hut but I overshot the motorway exit and wasted the best part of 40 minutes correcting my mistake. Trying to navigate, control a runaway campervan and watch the ever depleting fuel gauge was starting to give me the nervous jitters. Several more wrong turns and I finally stumbled upon the van park in no small part thanks to the cue sheet I had downloaded from google maps several hours earlier.

Now I sit in the van, try to unwind, contemplate food and sway gently as the Gale force winds try to topple my dear Lucy. It is decidedly freezing at the moment and the prospect of  tomorrows ride in the howling wind doesn’t fill me with delight however I am here and so are the trails and there is only one way we will be introduced.

Rotorua – tick

The sun came out this morning and it was time to play. I managed to talk the caravan groundskeeper into loaning me his Allen key set so I could set about changing brake pads. After 20 minutes, some swearing and a skinned knuckle, all was good to go.

I managed to sail straight past the entrance to the parking area for Redwoods twice before I managed to actually successfully pilot Lucy (thats what I have taken to calling my Jucy van – I expect everyone does eventually) into the carpark.

I knew from past experience that the lower down trails were a bit ho-hum and all the fun stuff was at the top of the hill, so I set a course for some long fire-road grinders. After nearly 400 odd meters of vertical, I topped out and decided that I would check out the “outback trail” which I hadn’t ridden last time I was there. I shouldn’t have.

With all the rain over the last day, outback trail was a rutted, muddy mess. Picture tree roots forming a blanket as far as the eye can see and then think how slippery it is with wet tyres. It was surprisingly similar to the Watagans and I was almost going to wish for my single speed until I thought about the grovelling I had to do to get to the top of the hill – thats a lot of walking on a single.

I then took a branch off and picked up a category 5 trail – I have no idea what that means although it soon proved to be pretty sketchy. It was less ‘trail’ and more ‘goat track’ in parts with horrendous slimey logs sitting 45 degrees cross camber across the trail. It was a bit of a thrill to ride because you had no idea what was coming up next and invariably it was super gnarly. I had to dab numerous times and performed the walk of shame once when I stalled and couldn’t re-clip in without witnessing my own death.

I eventually linked up to a trail I hadn’t ridden before called ‘split enz’. It was an absolute hero trail. It has hero dirt, hero lumps, hero berms and it just went forever. I smiled the whole way to the bottom and then through pondy downhill and then pondy new (or something like that).

Mr Freeman had suggested that my life would be incomplete without riding gunna gotta however there had been some serious logging work (be rude not 2 is now gone 😦 ) and all the links that would allow me to get across looked they were shut down. It was going to require me to ride all the way to the bottom of the park (on bloody fire road no less) and then climb 200 m vertical to get there. Unfortunately, I was smoked already and it simply wasn’t going to happen. So I turned tail and fled for the warm comfort of Lucy and spent 20 minutes hosing off my bike so that it will be clean enough for me to spoon with tonight in the van.

I’m now in Lake Taupo (80k’s down the road) with my muddy riding clothes in the washing machine and my new riding shoes in front of my little fan heater. The wifi setup they have here is excellent so I suspect I will get a little bit more of a chance to stay in touch. I hear rumours that there is excellent trail in Taupo and I will set out in search in the morning. Tonight I am going to walk into town for a beer and a bowl of pasta so big you can’t jump over it (Bishop, R 2004).

Rotovegas

I have finally found a little bit of free time to sit down and pen some thoughts about the trip so far. It has been a whirlwind and I feel like I have crammed in an entire holiday already and it has only just begun.

The flight over was without incident although I did strike a small speed hump in NZ quarantine. Upon opening my bike box, all was looking good until the shoe inspection. The shoes were looking pristine since they had been through the washing machine twice before coming over however all my careful planning was brought undone by a plethora of grass seeds that had infiltrated the Velcro and gone unnoticed. The quarantine officer kindy suggested she would pick them out and disappeared for 10 minutes only to re-emerge looking deflated as 10 minutes work had barely had any effect. Those seeds weren’t going anywhere.

So my only option was to have quarantine hold the shoes ($20.00) for me to re-collect on my return trip. Unfortunately that left me without shoes to ride in which was a good enough reason for me to buy another pair. Lets face it, you can always use another pair of shoes in wet weather.

I got to the hotel a little after 1am and the 7am wake up call the next morning hurt a lot. The conference started out quite well bet quickly deteriorated into a fog of abstract topics that forced the consumption of 4 cups of coffee just to stay awake.

Afterwards, we all met at the bar for happy hour and then I befriended a group of young pharmacists who were heading out for drinks and dinner. It turned out to be a sensational and rather late night and again the 7am wake up call hurt.

This morning I left the conference, picked up the Jucy van and set course for Rotorua. I arrived around 2pm and immediately bought some shoes (and a cheapy camel back which I had also forgotten). Then I set to work assembling the bike with a beer in the warm afternoon sun.

An old friend. We first met last time I was in this caravan park 12 months ago and he is still strutting around

Late afternoon caffeine fix. I think I will be back to this place. It was coolBike building done. Now time for cheese and biscuits

The bike was not without issues when I took it out of the box. I had carefully placed the front wheel where the axel was well out of striking distance of any of the tubes and secured everything with zip ties. Unfortunately, things somehow shifted during the flight and the axel did its best to biopsy the down tube. There is a thumb-print sized ding along with some missing paint and thankfully that was all the damage.  I could have become mad, but for some reason (possibly the beer) I just wanted to laugh at it. At least I am always going to have a reminder of this trip when I see the marks and at least the bike is getting used again. It wasn’t getting any dings hanging on the wall at home.  As Dr Rob would emplore, clearly the bike is now useless and I will have to buy a titanium 29er.

The other problem I detected were the front brake pads. I knew they must be getting close to the end of their life, especially after the slush at the Mont and it quickly became evident that there were infact contacting the backing pads. No problemo…. I bought spares. It turns out however, that those 20g allen keys that I was debating whether to bring (and eventually decided to leave at home) were the only ones I have that are the right size to fit the elixir pad retaining bolt. Sigh…. Frigging weight weenies… It looks like I will need to track down somewhere to buy the right size allen key in the morning.

So no riding today (other than a couple of shake down laps around the caravan park), but tomorrow will see me going for a play in Redwoods.

Amusingly, I bumped into Chris Aitken this evening at ‘Countdown’ (Woolworths) as he is here with the Aus under 19 squad on a training camp. Sounds great…… except they are riding road bikes! WTF? It must be killing the team to be at the trailhead of one of the best trail networks in the Southern Hemisphere and to be out on a road bike instead. Here’s hoping you get your tyres muddy sooner rather than later Chris!

Mont 24

THis is just a quick post to stave off a long drought between posts. In the last 2 weeks, I have barely had time to sleep let alone blog however the end is in sight. Tomorrow I leave for UnZudd and it will be a delicious change of pace from the frenetic pace of the last few months.

At this Mont, I did everything that I said I would never do again last year…. Drive down on the friday night, drive home on the sunday, be fat, be horrendously unfit etc etc.

My team were on fire and we jagged a 7th place finish but I can’t help but wonder where they would have ended up if it wasn’t for yours truly.  I was in a very ugly head space for most of the weekend which I guess comes from starting an endurance event when you are already exhausted.

Thankfully it poured with rain on the sunday morning and as I sat in the 12 degrees temps dodging rain dripping of marquees, I complained some more. But I sucked it up and went out on my lap only to discover I was having the time of my life. There were wet rocks and roots everywhere, the off camber corners were extremely skatey and all of a sudden the trail was interesting. The dust had been settled (which had caused real problems with my asthma) and while most people were grumbling about expensive drive trains which dissolve in water, I was throwing caution to the wind and sliding through every corner.

Some of this fun was down to preperation. After two years of faithful service, my 3000km old racing ralphs were finally replaced. Thankfully I put on a ‘trail’ tyre for my NZ trip which was just perfect for muddy conditions. The ardent up front and crossmark out the back inspired confidence in the slop and I can only think how much more ‘exciting’ it would have been on bald Ralphs 🙂

The bike went to car lovers last night for a thorough clean prior to boxing tonight for my flight on wednesday afternoon. Hopefully I will be posting daily while OS with pictures of trails that you aren’t riding (unless of course you are Chris Aitken who will be over there too).

Anywho, that is my 3 minute update and I’ll breathe some life back into this blog shortly.

Over and out