18. WHY I WILL NEVER SURF....

Beyond the fact that I look less than flattering in a wetsuit.....or boardies....or anything beach related for that matter. Insert jokes about whales being rolled back into the ocean etc. Very funny.

I have a fear right, of appearing not competent. Which is different in my mind to being incompetent. When you’re incompetent you more or less know you’re going to be bloody hopeless at something before you get into it. That is of course, if you have any insight into your own abilities at all – something the perennially incompetent lack almost by definition.

Like dancing for instance. I am fully aware that I am an incompetent dancer. Something I tried to point out to the directors of The Golden Ass (‘Family friendly COMEDY HIT of the School Holidays! Tickets on sale NOW at your local Wine Bar and General Store!) without success. Awkward does not even come close to describing it. I’d rather do nude runs through the snow than dance – at least then the punters are laughing WITH me.

Appearing NOT competent is a more complicated issue. See, I reckon I might have been good at surfing if I had started early enough. I do have balance and have always liked the t-shirt as a clothing mainstay. It’s fine to be arse at something when you’re a kid – it’s expected even. When you’re 45 there is an expectation (in my head at least) that you should have sorted out that kind of stuff years ago. My concern is looking stupid for whatever period it takes me to get good enough that people stop posting videos of you on YouTube.

In the case of surfing I, perhaps unfortunately, had this confirmed a couple of years ago when a group of us had a surfing lesson on the NSW Central Coast. The board they gave me was big enough to have a 4 person, sit down dinner party on. I sank that bastard like it was the Titanic. In the hour long lesson, held in massive 21cm swell, I managed to get vertical once, for exactly the amount of time it took me fall immediately into the ocean.

The problem with this particular character flaw, is it does tend to stop you trying new things that might turn out to be fun.

Recent case in point – I never realised that there are trails specifically built and maintained, to ride mountain bikes on, less than an hour from where I live. I passed a network of them every time I went to work for 6 years. Not fire trails or dirt roads either. These things have loops and jumps and berms and all the good stuff that is frankly more interesting than kilometres and kilometres of wide and boring fire trail or road. Brilliant.

So when I found out about this, did I race immediately down there and start riding on them. Not at all. What I did, was drive by about a dozen times, deliberately identifying a time when I could be almost certain no one else would be there so I could have a go at it without anyone else seeing me make an arse of myself.

Cause I’m an idiot.

I finally had a go last week and it was a hoot. I even, as previously mentioned, had a very nice stack. I could however, have been having a go at it AND having a hoot for at least two months now. As I say – character flaw. 

Maybe I should try dancing.....

NEXT: Diggity.

17. LETS TALK ZLOTY’S

I guess sooner or later this thing is going to cost me some money. So far my expenditure has been limited to the magazines that I’ve been consuming with gusto and the $80 deposit I put on the frame I have chosen as the one around which I hope to build an impressively functioning trail eating machine....current mechanical knowledge deficits notwithstanding.

But as I say, unless I plan to use the bare frame as some kind of spectacularly un-aerodynamic dirt toboggan, I’m going to have to invest in stuff like wheels and handlebars and seats and brakes and Jesus, when you write it all down (which I have - here) it’s really quite a lot of shit.

On a side note. You know your mid-life crisis is ticking all the boxes when you start to use words like ‘invest’ about things which in no way represent anything you will EVER make any financial return on EVER.

One of the upsides to the path I have chosen to go along (buy a frame and build a bike) is that I manage to spread the pain over a longer period. Like the plucky British POW’s digging a tunnel and distributing the dirt by the pocketful under the noses of their Nazi guards (and if you don’t know what I’m talking about here then shame on you, you undereducated philistine) I can hopefully fool even myself into thinking that ‘Wow that only cost $50....and $75....and $35 (but I’ve already forgotten about the first $50 – see how the delusional mind works).

I have been sensible enough to work out that I’m not going to end up spending ridiculously more than if I just went out and purchased a bike off the rack....I’m not stupid....and the extra level of customisation I get to indulge in, as well as the joy of finishing up with something reasonably unique that I built myself, in my mind at least, more than compensates for any extra financial cost (again – the delusional mind at work).

Alternatively I could keep riding what I have, pick a third world country and buy a whole lot of wells or seeds or fishing rods to teach people to fish....so they have food for a lifetime...assuming they have rivers with fish in them as opposed to chemicals from the local multi-national conglomerate’s fertiliser factory which is pretty much a dead certainty so I’d just be wasting that money right?

Again....the delusional thing.....

NEXT: Why I will never take up surfing....

17. SHOPPING LIST....

Special bonus post (which is why it’s appearing on a Tuesday night instead of on the usual release schedule) – Below is a list of the bits and pieces that I need to get to build a complete bike.  As I get the bits it is my plan to expand on the basic descriptions that you will find below....so I guess this post could get pretty big.....stay tuned.

FRAME

Stanton Slackline 853

CHAINSET/DRIVETRAIN

Crankset

Chain Device

Pedals

Bottom Bracket (BB)

Rear Mech

Cassette

Shifters

Chain

WHEELS

Front

Back

STEERING

Forks

Grips

Stem

Headset

Handlebars

BRAKES

Front

Rear

Rotors

THE SITTING DOWN ON IT BIT

Seatpost

Saddle

Seatclamp

16. IN WHICH I STACK MY BIKE....

Stack. Such a descriptive word.  I had this stack once. I was at a mate’s house, this was when I was still young enough that my friends were determined by who my parents happened to be hanging out with....which may or may not be relevant....whatever. They lived in a dead end (cul de sac for the upmarket) with a big hill leading down into it that was really excellent for riding bikes or scooters down. Apart from the small issue of stopping room.

On the afternoon of the stack, we were riding scooters, which back then had inflatable tires and were a fair bit larger than the shiny metal affairs the kids get around on these days. Quite fast also. To brake these things, you simply stamped on a piece of metal that rubbed against the rear wheel and consequently slowed you down. I have a distinct memory of being catapulted over the handle bars of a scooter that had brakes that worked a bit too effectively on one occasion.

The reverse however, was the issue on that day. I think the tyre may have been a bit flat so the piece of metal didn’t push hard enough against the rubber...or something. Faced with the rapidly approaching curve of the dead end’s gutter I bailed out, ran about 3 steps, stumbled, and slid along on my guts for what I am sure was about 3 kms, removing a fair amount of skin in the process. I did that crying thing that kids do where they keep trying to breath in, and in, and in and then......everything gets very loud.

The other day I went for ride on an actual bike trail at Ourimbah (as opposed to the dirt roads and fire trails I have ridden on so far) and had the first honest to goodness stack I have had for quite some time.

I was riding along this beautifully crafted trail that wound through the bush down on the valley floor feeling very pleased with myself and thinking - ‘Oh this is what they mean by trail riding. This is brilliant. I’m going to do more of this.’ - when my bar end hooked itself around a small tree. Then I was on the ground and my arse was hurting quite a lot.

 

This is a bar end. I like them because they give you more options for hand positioning and because they make climbing hills a lot easier. I had read that they can hook passing trees while riding trails and was dubious. This situation is now rectified.

Nothing broken. Quite a sore arse. It was fantastic. Like when you play footy and get a cut or a slightly black eye and you get to go to work with it just to remind people how hard and tough you are. Plus I’ve ridden two wheeled transport enough to know that sooner or later you WILL take a fall off it. So when it happens and you get to reset the probability counter without breaking anything serious it’s all for the good (and yes, I am aware that that is not how probability works).

Of course it did occur to me that I hadn’t told anyone I was going to engage in this kind of stupidity and could therefore have lain on the ground for quite a long time waiting in considerable discomfort had I injured more than my right butt cheek so I may take that into account next time.

And there will be a next time.

NEXT: I don’t know. It’s all out of order now....

15. IN WHICH I RIDE A (MOTOR)BIKE...

Risky move this, on the part of my wife - giving me a ride on a motorbike for my last birthday. Not entirely unlike dropping in on your friend who used to have the really serious drug habit to suggest – ‘I know you’ve been off the gear for 20 years but check out this baggie of Guatemalan Brown Beetle Sugar (or whatever the (drug addicted) kids are calling it these days) I’ve got for you –what could possibly go wrong?’

I rode motorbikes for a few years in the late 80’s until the upward line mapping my last bikes repair costs crossed the decidedly downward line mapping my available cash reserves and it ended up getting sold. I wasn’t that cut up about it at the time. The constant mechanical issues had me more than ready to push the thing over a cliff and I probably thought I’d go bikeless for a couple of years, get a job and upgrade to something more in line with my manly, rugged and individualist image.

Got a Corolla instead. Which was very reliable and all, but not exactly Tom Cruise racing an F14 down a runway to Kenny Loggins (I wonder what would happen these days if the US military spotted a helmetless lunatic racing along beside an F14 on a motorcycle).

The ride my wife got me was with a local outfit called Time Travellers (THIS is a link to their website).  They provide bikes (and all the stuff you need to not die riding a bike) to people like me who still have a licence (can you believe I am still licenced to ride a motorbike despite not having swung my leg over one for about 15 years? How insane is that?) but for whatever reason are without the means to ride.

Quick disclaimer – I have not been paid in any way shape or form for the following.

What a hoot. And that was with the rain pissing down on us for most of the ride. Christ knows how much fun it would have been if the weather had been nice. They were even able to provide me with all the gear I needed , including waterproof pants that actually kept my nuts dry and a helmet that I was able to fit my massive melon into (I went to buy an Akubra once – they had to go ‘Out The Back’ to the ‘Special Storeroom’ to get one big enough).

I was I admit, a little worried given my long layoff, but it turned out that riding a motorbike is a lot more ‘just like riding a bike’ than riding a pushbike was (though I did have to be reminded to turn off my indicators on more than one occasion). Plus – totally didn’t die in a horrible and tragic accident that would have left my wife crippled with guilt for the rest of her life.

Cannot recommend it highly enough. For a limited time only use this entirely non-existent bonus offer code (       ) or mention my name when booking for a party of between 17.00567 and 17.006798 on a day ending with a ‘Q’ and Milly or Arthur will give you absolutely nothing off the usual very competitive price.

NEXT: In which I stack my bike....

14. WEAR AND TEAR.....

See what that is. That’s a picture of my very nearly worn out back tyre. Do you have any idea how long it is since I’ve had to replace a bicycle tyre because it wore out. I had to replace the tyres that were on it when I started riding again but that was because they were unable to provide grip enough in the loose gravel of our access road to stop me ending up on my arse every 3 seconds. It’s not the same thing.

That’s nearly a year of constant exercising right there. I’m quite happy about that. More to the point I can see an actual improvement in my level of fitness which is no small feat. I managed to play rugby, which most people would probably say is a fairly physical game, for 20 odd years and still managed to manufacture a net loss of fitness over that period.

Probably had something to do with the amount of beer and crappy food consumed immediately following the games (in later years sometimes before and even during the games). In fact, and I’m sure there’s some kind of mathematical formula that could be applied to this, the longer I played, the shorter the games got, the less I trained and the more beer got drunk.

In the early years I would generally say, at whatever end of season function the Club was running, that I planned to get fit ‘in the off season’ which, while it started off as a serious expression of intent on my part, gradually turned into one of those jokes you tend to make whenever you find yourself in the company of a certain group of people, until it stops being even a little bit funny and instead just becomes a way of saying ‘I have no intention of getting any fitter and wouldn’t know how to start even if I did so let's all laugh about it hahaha....I hate myself’

Not this time though. For one thing – cycling has no off season (at least in this part of the world). It also does not require the participation of 29 other blokes and merely doing it for more than 2 weeks doesn’t make my shins feel like someone has hammered nails into them while I was sleeping (like, for example, running does).

I have come to the conclusion however that it is possible to do quite a lot of exercise and still not lose weight if you continue to eat things you shouldn’t. Which I may have started to do again. Can I just say to anyone who is reading this blog, knows me and, sees me eyeing off the bag of chips while I’m getting some milk or whatever – please feel free to whack me over the head with whatever stick like object to have handy.

It’s for my own good.

NEXT: Sooner or later I’m going to spend some money...

13.5. IN WHICH I GO TO THE EASTER SHOW....

Ok. See the little box to the right there where it says ‘Statement of Intent’. Read down a bit and there’s some dots and another bit and then I say – ‘and some other stuff’. There will be no riding of bikes in this post and I will not be referring in any way to 36t cranksets or the comparative benefits of long v short cage derailleur’s. Um. From now on.

On Saturday, we went to the Easter Show. For those of you who don’t live in Australia, The Sydney Royal Easter Show has been happening in Sydney since 1823 and was in the beginning at least, an opportunity for those who lived in the country to show those who lived in the city all the excellent stuff that made them want to keep living in the country.

It’s big, it’s shiny, it’s loud, it has show bags and it has animal pooh.

The climax of a day at the Show when I was a kid, was to grab a handful of whatever fried thing-on-a-stick was handily available and get an early spot in the Main Arena for the night time show. We then watched that show, which generally consisted of stunts on motorbikes, followed by stunts in cars, stunts on animals, sometimes stunts with axes and then a shitload of fireworks, while grazing on the contents of the dozen or so Show Bags we had amassed during the day. It was simple. It was brilliant.

So it was my intention to do the same thing on Saturday night right? Well.

As mentioned – I was looking for cars, bikes, fireworks, animals, fireworks, possibly some axes and more fireworks. What we got, was Darcy’s Quest. An hour long all (veeeeeerrrrrry slowly) dancing no singing ‘environmental’ fable starring not one but two giant puppets unconvincingly manipulated by cranes and a mass of desperately scurrying human beings.

I put the word environmental in quotes above NOT because I do not believe in environmental responsibility but because I question the wisdom of opening your ‘environmental’ fable with 15 minutes of Monster Trucks and motorcycles going round and round the arena in a fashion that was clearly meant to make the punters think ‘WOW THAT’S COOL!!’ (and if you want to have the Mad Max Arena Spectacular just bloody call it ‘The Mad Max Arena Spectacular’).

15 minutes of that - and a total of 9 motorbike jumps awkwardly shoehorned into the narrative as a means of choosing the ‘Navigator’ to help Darcy on her quest to.....um....do some f**king thing or other – and the giant puppet Darcy lumbered its way into the arena over the course of what seemed like about 3 hours (but according to my lying bastard of a watch was 10 minutes).

‘Christ I hope that things not going to do a full lap’ I whispered quietly to my wife.

A full lap later, plus two (GUARDIANNNNS OF THE WAAAASTELANDS) guys with some electrical doo-dads and some fire dancers.....bloody fire dancers, and just as I’m thinking I won’t have to fake a heart attack to get the hell out of here it’s giant horse puppet time.

Gaargh.

At least the giant horse puppet was attached to a crane too large to move around the arena so it could only move within the radius of the cranes (very long) arm. Whinnying through the P.A. every 20 seconds it lumbered slowly to its re-union with Darcy.

Universes formed and were extinguished.

Have you met my daughter? She is quite possibly the MOST ENTHUSIASTIC PERSON ON EARTH. About just about everything. Even she was bored.

Finally. Fireworks. Proper fireworks.

Deep breath.

I know ‘narratives’ are all very fashionable these days but PLEASE Mr Easter Show organiser man – Cars. Bikes. Animals. Axes. Fireworks. Please.

NEXT: Our normal service returns....