A little comp: Most imaginative/colorful Ride

[redefined_cycles]

Hopefully Chew or someone with some forum knowhow might chip-in...

Basically my last 2 (important to me and bike connected, to me) in general banter have saved me alot (a bit but alot to me being on low budgets and not wanting to throw money away etc etc) of dosh.

If you must know:

1. Miele Washing machine repaired (why didn't I follow that through initially) as it turned out it just needed a good service and gunge cleaning. Now hopefully another 15 years minimal -with services - left in it.

2. Both front bearings on car done with my buddy and his 980nm Milwaukee impact wrench: again inspiration to tackle my/ourselves from you 'I'll give it a go myself' lot...

Anyway... so...

[redefined_cycles]

Competition = Most colourful* ride.

Translate that however you wish but I'd have thought a good writeup and good pics might get you voted for.

Voting will hopefully be arranged by Chew or whoever else knows how Chew made the voting panel thread thingy for the RoughStuffFellowship book. Lets call it in 10 days time...

Rules... erm. Just based on my religious values really as I dont think am allowed to be encouraging pubs and beer/cross dressing etc etc etc... So no mention of pubs or how much you drank (we'll assume then you didnt ) etc etc.

Prize= a £30 CRC voucher or equivalent if you needed the voucher from another store for example (only cos I'm not the imagination(ative) to think of anything better that might entice everyone.

sound good??

* captivating; noteworthy; voted; lovely; most excellent; scenic; etc

[RIP]

A jolly idea, why not! "Most colourful ride" - trouble is Climber's bound to win cos he's such a whizz with photographs - he can make them as "colourful" as he likes no matter what the actual conditions, with some amazing results usually .

Beer AND cross-dressing? Sounds like a cracking night out

[redefined_cycles]

A jolly idea, why not! "Most colourful ride" - trouble is Climber's bound to win cos he's such a whizz with photographs - he can make them as "colourful" as he likes no matter what the actual conditions, with some amazing results usually .

Beer AND cross-dressing? Sounds like a cracking night out

Not necessarily Reg... remember different people might translate 'colourful'in different ways. To some (theres many on here that love a good read) colourful is in the detail of the post/midride reports.

It'll be the forum users that will be voting anyway so you never know...

Oh. One more thing on the prize (which I will update just now)

[PaulB2]

Beer AND cross-dressing? Sounds like a cracking night out

In a mostly former life as a medieval re-enactor, I once had an evening involving beer where I ended up riding a cross-dressed man pretending to be woman pretending to be a horse in a mock jousting competition. Those were the days

[summittoppler]

...I ended up riding a cross-dressed man pretending to be woman pretending to be a horse in a mock jousting competition...

That should be made into a sticker!

[Fat tyre kicker]

I'm sure you can get that outfit in the middle lane of Aldi ?

[middleagedmadness]

Beer AND cross-dressing? Sounds like a cracking night out

In a mostly former life as a medieval re-enactor, I once had an evening involving beer where I ended up riding a cross-dressed man pretending to be woman pretending to be a horse in a mock jousting competition. Those were the days

I now understand why you live in Stafford

[Bearbonesnorm]

As a colour blind man who takes black and white pictures, this post is most wrong.

[redefined_cycles]

As a colour blind man who takes black and white pictures, this post is most wrong.

Stu... the 'colourful' was perhaps the wrong word... exciting... most captivating... etc etc

edit. Imaginative... what a word

[Bearbonesnorm]

Here's a little story about a 'colourful' ride ... he's changed the bloody thread title now

Anyway - 'The Shotgun Shack"

The 'Toughest Push In Wales' or CLI nt Hill as it's also been called, had led to a later than anticipated arrival at Penhros Isaf. In turn, that had resulted in a later than usual departure the following morning, which meant the food provided by the cafe was more late lunch than early breakfast. By the time each of us had taken our turn to say, "we'll just have one last brew", whatever light there was, had begun to disappear.

Something was wrong, my legs wouldn't work. They hadn't been overly compliant the previous day but I'd shrugged it off and assumed day two would see them return to their usual form - I was wrong. Insignificant inclines became monstrous hills and I found myself twiddling along in 22 / 32, while trying hard to formulate convincing excuses for Mike and Scott. My only hope was that tomorrow would be better.

Although gravel had given way to tarmac, the change in surface didn't herald the arrival of civilisation. The road pushed us deeper and deeper into the mountains but in doing so took us nearer to our destination. The map indicated a bridge, a left turn, a track and if luck was with us, somewhere to spend the night out of the incessant wind and rain. The deafening roar of water indicated that we'd crossed the ancient stone bridge and in accordance with the map, we found the start of a puddled, muddy track leading off into the blackness. In less than five minutes we would find out whether my hunch had been correct. If it was, then salvation and a haven for the night beckoned but if I was wrong, well, let's just say the evening could become very unpleasant, very quickly. We pedalled on, each of us secretly wishing, hoping and praying.

A kink in the track delivered us from evil. Lights picked out the dark silhouette of a structure just off to the right - we weren't home and dry but hopefully, we were home. The final tussocks of the day deposited us safely by the front door. I turned the broken remnants of the handle, nothing. I was unwilling to believe it was locked, so tried again with a little more force - bollocks. Mike was already making his way round the side looking for a chink in the building's armour - I stood staring at the locked door. I looked down at the floor hoping to see a piece of slate lent against the wall or a stone that looked out of place, anything that might indicate the location of a key. No stones and no slate, I lifted my head and looked up. Hammered into the door frame was a rusty screw, hanging from it was an even rustier strip of metal. For no real reason, I reached up and lifted the metal from the screw and beneath the bent strip of oxidising steel was a key. I walked inside and straight over to the window Mike was trying to get through. "How did you get in there?", "magic" I replied.

Inside was spacious, dry and just a little dusty. A brush was located and in full accordance with the 'leave no trace' ethos we set to. Five minutes later and you'd never have known the place had received any form of cleaning in the previous ten years. With our bedroom now sorted, we retired back down the wooden stairs to partake in the age old bikepacking ritual of eating, brewing up and talking rubbish. It was a friendly building, it almost felt lonely. Perched high out in the mountains waiting for the warmth and noise of human company, a reminder of its previous life. As we sat, sprawled out along the battered wooden benches, the building slowly drew the heat out of us. At first it was just feet but the old stone and slates were hungry and within a couple of hours we were all starting to experience the tell tale shivers that indicate bed-time. We ascended the stairs once again and reacquainted ourselves with sleeping bags and mats.

I wanted to sleep but the more I wished for a speedy journey to the land of nod, the more unlikely it became. I lay there listening to Mike and Scott as they contended for first prize in the 'Worlds Noisiest Mat' competition. Scott's Neoair sounding very much like the often mentioned crisp packet and Mike's Exped producing a more worrying sound, a sound like someone rubbing a half inflated balloon between their arse cheeks. With the collar of my jacket stuffed firmly in my ears, I rolled onto my side and stared out of the low window that faced me and thought. I thought about my legs and whether a new day would see them rejuvenated. I wondered whether the rumbling noises from my stomach meant I was hungry or full. I tried to work out how I'd not seen Mike blow up a balloon while I'd been in the same room and I thought about the lights outside the window. I gave the glass an extra hard stare hoping that it might scare the approaching lights away but they just got brighter. I told myself there couldn't be lights, after all we were up a dead-end track in the middle of nowhere at midnight, why would there be lights? Unfortunately, the only answer I could muster was that, the lights and more importantly, whoever was in charge of them must be coming here.

I decided not to invoke panic until the moment I actually heard a car draw-up outside and its engine stop and its doors open, I quietly said, "there's someone here". Mike had obviously decided that a certain level of panic was called for in this instance and replied, "you're f*cking jokin'" but soon realised I wasn’t, as the beam of a torch rushed through the window and lit the entire room up. We waited for the noise of a door catch but it didn't come, we thought about all the things we'd left down stairs in plain view through the windows and regretted all the money we'd ever spent on high-viz this and reflective that. We could hear faint voices but couldn't make out any words, lights continued to flash across the building and through the windows but still no one came in. BANG! Scott had remained largely quiet until that point, "f**k me, is that a gun?" he said trying to be as quiet as you can be in such circumstances. I let out an imaginary sigh of relief, they weren't here for us, they were here for the foxes. Minutes turned to treacle and passed like hours but eventually the car was started once more and the lights faded.

Okay, close your eyes and go to sleep, I told myself but out on the hillside a second shot kept my eyes wide open. For an hour, I watched the lamps light up the sky in the distance. The noise of an engine was never out of ear shot but sadly it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sound of rustling crisp packet and someone rubbing a half inflated balloon between their arse cheeks.

[redefined_cycles]

Thanks for that firdt dose of Stu...

Good call about giving the story (or picture story whatever everyone decides their post would be) a name...

[FLV]

Beer AND cross-dressing? Sounds like a cracking night out

In a mostly former life as a medieval re-enactor, I once had an evening involving beer where I ended up riding a cross-dressed man pretending to be woman pretending to be a horse in a mock jousting competition. Those were the days

Sorry, I'll get back to thread purpose shortly, but I'd like to focus on the word 'mostly' here

"In a mostly former life"

tell me more, good sir....

[PaulB2]

Beer AND cross-dressing? Sounds like a cracking night out

In a mostly former life as a medieval re-enactor, I once had an evening involving beer where I ended up riding a cross-dressed man pretending to be woman pretending to be a horse in a mock jousting competition. Those were the days

Sorry, I'll get back to thread purpose shortly, but I'd like to focus on the word 'mostly' here

"In a mostly former life"

tell me more, good sir....

The last few years the only event i’ve managed to get to is one our group does at Skipton Castle with my youngest and I couldn’t go this year hence the wistful “mostly former life”.?

[Borderer]

Great idea for a competition. Here goes then....

Salsa, Sun and Socialism - a Cuban bike adventure

In the Spring of this year Joe and I took our bikes to Cuba. The trip didn't quite go as planned, but we had a lot of fun and spent some amazing times in this incredible country.

We hung out in Havana for a few days to acclimatise,







We went to a salsa club.....



.... and the ballet.....



....and met this cool old guy.....



We rode our bikes through some memorable landscapes....















Ate some great food, like this peanut stuff which we named 'Cuban energy bar'....



.....and drank some interesting soft drinks.... this Irn Bru knock-off was a hit with my boy.



We saw some cool revolutionary art....







Cycled through some out-of-the-way towns....









...marvelled at Cuban ingenuity in creating pedals from section of water pipe amongst other things....



and cycled along the motorway.....(it's allowed and very safe in Cuba!)



...until we came full circle back to Havana again....









Sad to be leaving, we got a lift to the airport in this gorgeous old taxi....

[redefined_cycles]

Borderer... for the second entry to the comp. Any chance you could add a title to your entry so its wasier when vpting time comes??

[Fat tyre kicker]

"Cuba Good wi' Junior" ??

[Borderer]

"Cuba Good wi' Junior" ??

good one.

Ok how about 'Salsa, Sun and Socialism - a Cuban bike adventure'.

[fatbikephil]

I reckon Borderer has just aced this?
I know its all about the competing rather than the winning but nowt I've done this year is anything remotely as imaginative or colourful so I think I'll follow another trend for me this year and bail....

[Borderer]

I reckon Borderer has just aced this?

*drops mike*

[benconnolli]

Now I am not too great with taking pictures while bikepacking, they are badly framed and never capture the best bits. What I will back is my imagination and colourful language, in the nice sense.

Just another commute

Now I am relatively new to this whole adult job rubbish and was complaining about it not giving me enough time to play on my bike, so decided to do something vaguely ridiculous in protest. I was going to integrate work into a bikepacking trip. Set off on an unassuming Thursday, sleep out as far away as I dare, back into the office, then back into the wilderness proper.

I took a towel, spare t shirt, and riding kit with my packed up bike on this, now above average, Thursday. I drank plenty of tea, stared longingly out of the window, typed away, then escaped. Now 5-9 is actually a very long time when the only thing to do is ride your bike, but I was aware that I would have significantly riding time in the morning so was deliberately wandering in my route. Now being England I was never that far from civilisation, and passed many a cosy pub for dinner but opted for the Coop medley of canned soup, drank directly, followed by apple pie and another can of custard. It tasted like freedom. Freedom from the daily grind, rejection of doing things simply because society tells me to, this meal was symbolic of being in control of my own life.

I wish I could tell tales of a victorious sunset as I gazed out over Cheltenham Spa, but it was dreary grey drizzle that just drifted into darkness. I had to retreat to some more secluded woodland, from people but not bugs, with no view after the second group of stoners wafted by.

I was well within my comfort zone at all times, I had ridden every path before, and always knew exactly how to go home, nothing that unpredictable happened, but I just couldn't shake the sense of adventure. To an outsider the only difference was the bags on my bike, making it significantly worse at handling and much harder work up the hills, but it is all about attitude. That very ballast was redefining my boundaries, from a 1.5x2m wooden frame, into a massive circle full of possibilities.

Friday was full of smugness and people not understanding why I was grinning so much about it, but they have started to accept that it is just who I am. Now Thursday night was only meant to be the start of something much grander, something epic, but my itch had already been firmly scratched so I ended this commute a much more direct route and had a really good nights sleep.

[redefined_cycles]

Anyway. So.. erm... looks like we've had more than 1 entry afterall and it also looks like entries deadline was yesterday (or today at a push depending on when you see the 10 days to have started from..

Anyone able to advise on how to setup the voting??

The entries are basically:

ShotgunShack by BearbonesNorm

Just Another Commute by Benconnoli

Salsa, Sun & Socialism: A Cuban Adventure by Borderer...

[Borderer]

I think we are not allowed....
From the FAQ:
"How do I create a poll?
When posting a new topic or editing the first post of a topic, click the “Poll creation” tab below the main posting form; if you cannot see this, you do not have appropriate permissions to create polls."

[redefined_cycles]

Found it.. excellent work Borderer thanks... Will create poll later or if anyone else has the time then feel free to make a new page with it and the entrants (them 3 mentioned above)...