Wednesday, June 09, 2004
Alan Tourist. Dad bought this for about a grand in the early '90s and I never really understood why, as it's a bit of a noodle even when unladen. I think he liked the Campag NR triple and long cage rear mech, which is admittedly pretty rare and groovy. This bike is now in the hands of his brother John. An Italian touring bike, who'd have thought?
"Clamont" 753 road bike, circa 1985. I bought this for NZ$600 when I was seventeen. The wheels are as false as the day I got 'em, and the ring need replacing, as does pretty much everything except the headset and bottom bracket which I've already attended to. It's nice and light, though as you can see, pretty steep and with really short chainstays. Interesting bits include a fully operational SunTour Superbe Pro rear mech and a Brooks Pro which I bought aged 13 at Williams Cycles of Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, 20 years ago. It was like cast iron when I got it and for years I wouldn't work out how to soften it (and yes, I knew all the tricks but don't really approve of oil soaking and goats entrails and stuff). Eventually I got some movement happening by taking it off its seatpost, placing it in the floor and gently standing on it in stockinged feet. From that moment on we were friends. My dad could never work out why I bought a bike that couldn't accept mudguards or racks, and in retrospect I agree with him. This bike is slowly being restored - improvements happen incrementally, usually when I get stuck for something to ride - and one day will probably be resprayed. Incidentally, Clamont is the house brand of the Clarence Street Cyclery in Melbourne.
The Bridgestone T700, February 2004. If you were in NZ on this month you'll know about the constant storms, the flooding, the stock losses, the washed out bridges and the families stuck out all night on their roofs of their houses. Fortunately, in my part of Wellington nothing too bad happened and one day it was blowing a terrific northerly and I had to take advantage of it. So, I jumped on a train and went up to the head of the Hutt Valley and got blown 50km home along the Hutt River track. It's mostly gravel with a bit of sealed road and some mud. The Bridgestone was great, with the Conti Toup Touring's inverted tread giving just enough traction while the mudguards and extra flappy thing keeping the worst of it out of my eyes. Also rahter enjoyable getting small amounts of air off wee judder bars:) And I was still clean enough by the time I got to Lower Hutt to nip into an art gallery without leaving crud everywhere. Life was good!
Bicycular Romanticism volume 2: Aniseed Valley. I'd raced ahead of the party and beat them to level ground by about thirty minutes, which is normally most unlike me. I suspected they'd got eaten by Taniwhaz, but they arrived in due course complaining about lack of brakes. I know the feeling. Which leads me to expound on brake pads for a moment. Now, if you've been reading this blog you'll have a handle on the kind of riding I like to do. So: it all becomes impossible if you cook your brakes and at NZ$60 a pair, Hayes mechanical pads are, like, way pricey. Naturally, your brakes get cooked if you drag them, as XC riders are wont to do. DH riders, conversely, generally ride bigger bikes which are more stable at speed over rough stuff and will tend to brake harder and later than if they were getting bounced around riding something light and nippy. Therefore, the limiting factor in how much brakes you go through on a hard ride would appear to be how comfortable you are descending over rough ground at high speed. My Giant ARSE is a good bike, but there's room for improvement. For someone considering a bike to tackle difficult NZ terrain, they could do worse than to try a Keewee cromoTOZE - like the Giant, but with twice the travel and Solid As! And made of STEEL so it won't disappear out from underneath you when you least expect it.
Lookout! High above the canopy. Probably the summit of whatever knob we were at between Rocks and Browning huts, Richmond Forest Park. Extreme happiness suffused our vibe, as the honking downhill was about to begin... Needless to say, bu this time I'd caned my camera battery and didn't get any groovy descending shots. Next time!
Sarah tries to reconcile Eric's GPS reading with her map. Note overwhelming prescence of alloy hardtailage and Marzocchi Bombers. A great day for freedom, one might say. Ah, Nelson! Where else can you ride 100m from the centre of town and then stay on singletrack for the next three days? Gnaw yer bits off, New York City! Also: yer bike won't get stolen if there's no people around:)
Pattersonian countryside shot, featuring Shed. Cute ei? Note ham-fisted "differential exposure" technique yeilding oversaturated sky in the upper right hand corner. Would look nice with a string of penny farthings hurtling down the road. And if you ran into a herd of sheep being moved from one paddock to another it probably wouldn't hurt. As much.
Pahiutua dairy factory, as owned by Fonterra. Fonterra is New Zealand's - possibly the world's - largest dairy company. Being middle management in Fonterra means stuff like you live in Japan and do heinous deals with all sorts of expensive people. Weirdly, Fonterra isn't a limited company, nor is it listed on any stock exchange. It's a cooperative owned by the dairy farmers. Apparently if it went public it would be about twice the size of Telecom, the NZX's most thoroughly traded, er, thingy. Photographically speaking, note blue sky, puffy clouds and cow food. I wanted to get the discarded black tee shirt and broken beer bottles in as well, but my camera ain't that good.
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
Dark Forbidding Hills in the Wairarapa. "No way," they say. So where am I? http://www.wises.co.nz/map/default.asp?street=&suburb=&town=MASTERTON&sttype=&id=112134|2&svctype=1&zoom=4&mapaction=0&mapwhich=19&width=512&height=512&businesses=1&brad=25&color=-1&filled=0&e=2731250&n=6031250&routemethod=0&s_id=&radius=&mapsize=3&move=true&zoomin=true
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Wow, this section's actually ridable! Greg employing the Keewee to its best use. Shortly after this the light failed and I ran out of film. By this stage we'd run out of food. Water was short, but senses ofhumour were still intact. After all, who wouldn't be smiling with blah inches of travel? Note clever branding on forks. Dutch cyclist pleae note: jersey reccomends Cees Geluck bouwbedrijf (which apparently means Builder) and endorses Cafe-Snackbar Sint Maartensdijk. So if you ever go there, spend money and tell them I sent you. And if you're 30 years too late, complain to the EU.
Pointy Wind, Richmond Forest Park, January 2002 (I think). Astute readers will be struck with the outofsynculareic nature of the photos posted to this blog, yet in the spirit of tolerance and fair play will not care too much aobut it. Times state are for trampers. Mountain bikers will take more or less time depending on the impossibility of the terrain. We had the misfortune to descend via an apparently straightforward route heading due north to the Maitai Dam which, due to Badness, turned out to be a stream of football sized orange boulders. "From Hell" doesn't even begin to describe it. Even Greg "much of it 100% ridable" Smith had issues with it. Suffice tosay we didn't get back til well after dark (and this in the height of summer) and it was one of those missions where a) going up was vastly easier than going down, and b) it didn't take nearly as long, either.
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