Fat Lad Rides Again

For my readers outside these spiffing shores it’s been a wee bit cold this last few weeks. Monday saw ice and snow so thick a normally quarter hour ride to the shop with the mutt became transformed miserably into a near hour long foot powered slog. Tuesday was little better and mileage goals or no, my motivation for hitting the trails was minimal to say the least. Time served Pootler and fellow tail end charlie Bill text bullied me into making the trip to Ossett for a club favourite.

Getting away from the shop late, the always awesome Mrs Fat Lad had made my tea for me. Despite it being nutritious, filling and delicious it was about an hour later eaten than I would have hoped. Continuing the theme of time poor running states I ragged my poor van all the way to the pub leaping out I popped on my lid, pulled on my gloves and lubed the chain. Whipping the pedals backwards at speeed running the lube over the chain I managed to aersol the ceramic wet  lube and get it onto the rear disc rotor. Great that will be no rear brakes for the ride then.

Atop the first climb I grab my brand spanking new hydration pack hose and go for a giant sized hot fat man refreshing gulp of water. Nope. Blocked. No re-hydration for Fat Lad. Buggeration.

As the ride progressed my evening meal never filled my empty legs and any snap summoned for forward motion firmly refused to play nice. My handling skills were definitely less goof like than godly. I wanted out. When I asked for the nearest bailout point nobody would tell me. “Not far from the end now mate…”  We started as a club and finished our icy circuit as one too.

This is the part where I got into the pub and tell you how it was all worth it. It wasn’t. My ride that evening was rubbish. Truly fecking awful. But, and here’s the thing of the thing, would have I swapped it for a night in front of the haunted fish tank. Not on your life. To quote club founder and Northern Curmudgeon extraordinaire: “A bad night on the trail is better than a good day in the office”

Fat Lad

Despite what you might think, it turns out I’m not actually an infallible riding god with an omniscient well of knowledge to draw upon. Sometimes, only sometimes though, I get things wrong. So here is a complete list of everything I have ever been wrong about. Ever.

I’ve seen too many fail on the trailside. Bloody wheel spunk everywhere and you’ll have to then pull out all the thorns that it sealed around…

Then, I tried them. Tubeless tyres. Punctures be gone. Rolling quality is superb. Now, granted, all that above is still true in certain circumstances but I let a few bad experiences colour my opinions. Now I’m using them on my bikes I genuinely do love them.

Beard growing (*ahem*), sandal wearing, holier than thou, wrecked knee freaks. Seriously 200 years of development thrown out and replaced with the phrase “One f*cking gear”…

Then, I built one. After building Sarah’s new bike that is. Now the always excellent Mrs Fat Lad and I are riding loads together but she will be the first to admit that her fitness and mine are a way apart. So I built myself a Kinesis Decade Virsa

And very nice it is too. So I got it as a two wheeled tool to retain a little fitness whilst riding with my dear wifey. It’s simply a joy to ride. So much so that I ride it even when I’m on my tod.

What? A seat post that goes up and down without you having to get off. You’ve got to be kidding right? Either get off and drop it or ride it XC up in yer arse/lower spine high…

Then I got one. A Rock Shox Reverb (available from Morley’s Best Bike Shop* Garage Bikes) it was eye wateringly expensive but it is actually rather ace. Not so much in the dropping it all the way to the frame, which can be dead useful, but in a drop it an inch or two on the fast flowy stuff and really give it some beans. So much so I’m sourcing a 27.2 one for the singlespeed.

140mm rear wheel of travel? For the UK. Nope nobody *needs* more than 100mm or even a hardtail.

Then I got a 140mm trail bike. My beloved plastic mistress. My Ibis Mojo Sl. Boy, my love for that bike borders on the unhealthy. True there is very little in the UK that can’t be ridden and enjoyed in the UK on a hardtail but  my Mojo is just so much fun. So was the Trek Fuel EX I tried. And so is Sarah’s Kona Dawg Supreme. And so is Si’s Felt. And so is…

Hang on, riders are actually paying other people to teach them how to ride a bike. Seriously…?

Then I went on one. Here: Ukbikeskills And well, wow, just wow. But that’s a story for another time.

How can they charge so much for parts? I can save at least 40 pence buying it from a place in Ireland that doesn’t pay VAT. It’s daylight robbery I tell thee…

Then I opened my own. And believe me it’s tough. Hard work. Very rewarding. But bloody hard work. Don’t begrudge the bloke behind the counter of your local bike shop trying to make a living. There’s a reason you don’t meet any rich bike shop owners.

Fat Lad

Going have to be a short catch up post thanks to the sheer total and utter clusterf*ck that is the wordpress software. It has just eaten a post that I was exceptionally proud of and I’m in such a sulk about it that it’s not coming back to me now.

Once inspiration returns I’ll have another crack at it. So heres a little cop out post to let you know how I’m getting on:

I’m getting on just fine. Getting out plenty at the minute, quite a bit with Sarah, and starting to feel the first flutters of fitness returning. When you’ve been fit (relatively in my case that is) it seems memory of how much faster you were fails to translate the neural paths to legs. As in my brains wants to go faster than my legs will go.

I’m sure the two will tie up sometime soon…

Fat Lad

So it’s that time of year again, come sit on Uncle Fat Lad’s knee and try not to be too visibly disturbed by the prickly beard and the smell of stale whisky on his breath. Let me regale you with tales of chunky riders, small business wonder and magically shrinking riding clothes. Well no, not really.

2011 has been one hell of a year. I started my own bike shop and though it has been a lot of fun it has been bloody hard work. Consequently, despite owning a bike shop and still retaining all the passion I’ve ever had for bikes, I’ve had bugger all time to actually ride any of mine… Oh and we got a dog 🙂

Introducing Bella the stoopid mutt:

I’m going to change that. I’m going to ride more. Which with that seamless segue brings me onto my first goal:

Ride 2000 MTB miles

I tried this year before last, got bloody close, but then the worst winter for thirty years hit taking any chance of reaching that one. It’s going to be even more difficult as in 2011 I only managed about 1100 miles…

Ride the Colne Valley Challenge in under 4 hours

Remember this: Fat Lad Rides The Colne Valley Mountain Bike Challenge ? To be honest I actually think the event would be better ridden the other way round. However having another go this year and I’m aiming for a sub four hour finish. I shall report back after the event…

Blog once  a week

And last but by no means least the tough one. I think this is the thing I will struggle most with. Free time is sparse currently and fitting this in I’m not sure how I’ll manage. But I do love a good challenge…

Wish me luck

Fat Lad

I started with empty legs.

The carbon fibre dream bike felt nothing more than an overly expensive plastic two wheeled toy. Even in the early morning the heat was already in my mind and registering on my arms and brow. Away from the black top the full reservoir gleamed like an acre of dirty choppy topaz. Into Haigh woods recent very British Summer levels of rainfall had left the trail untrustworthy in level of grip.

Leaving Tingley truly I stopped on the long grass descent to gossip with a dog walker, the sun still fairly low there was no need to rush, my destination only moving away from me at a geological pace.