Tuesday, 28 December 2010

End of Cyclocross Season

Today was the last cyclocross race of the season for me. My neck is still pretty tweaked so it hasn't been great bike riding but I've been lovin' these races even though I struggle to keep up with the gnarly old dudes.
Todays race was in Macclesfield and it was pretty cold and very, very wet from the thawing snow. I had to use one of Yani's spare tops to help keep warm. He is a total tramp and has to tape up the soles of his shoes to hold them together before each race, ghetto-stylin.
Roll on next September.

Sunday, 26 December 2010

Euston 6:30 am

This is what my monday morning looks like once every 8 weeks or so.

Wednesday, 22 December 2010


Here's the basic recipe for Flapjerk-me-off:-
Get some butter and some sweet stuff. Get it all hot and ready for a load of oats. Throw in your load and mix as best you can until you think you're ready to dump a hot, sticky load onto a tray.
Bake for about 15 minutes on gas mark 4 while you get ready for the next phase.
Pull out from the hot cookers hole and let it rest and cool down. If you attempt to do anything with it while it's too hot and it will just crumble when really you it to be quite solid in your hand and mouth.

Monday, 20 December 2010

Snowy Cold Cock

An immature idiot tagged the virgin snow in my garden. Disgraceful.
Growing up, is giving up.

Saturday, 11 December 2010

Top top

What the fuck, Adam Cooke got me a Howies, merino top. Ace, Thanks Ad

Pick up

You know it's cold when you see penguins out shopping

Wednesday, 17 November 2010

Dreaming of Bellends

If you drive on the M62 from Liverpool to Manchester, on the left hand side, when you get towards St. Helens you'll spot, peeking out between the tree tops, something that looks like a giant, white bellend. Disappointingly it isn't. It's a fucking huge girls head and close up it resembles a fucking huge girls head and nothing like a fucking huge bellend.

Sunday, 31 October 2010

If you go down to the woods today.......

Two months on and I still haven't recovered from my neck injury so I can't comfortably ride my bike at all, but once a week I have been taking a bunch of painkillers and attempting to compete in the North West Cyclocross races. I come in at the back of the field after battling around a course for an hour with veteran 70 year olds. This week the race was at the most local course to me, Otterspool Park.
It looks a really pleasant area but Otterspool is a fairly notorious stretch of land on the banks of the River Mersey, that can be frequented by cruising guys, sexual deviants, predators and general weirdo lurkers:- That guy you think is innocently flying a kite.....the dude over there, walking the small Scotty dog.....they'll soon, 'bump into' that old man who looks like he is quietly contemplating life, sitting on the bench. The scene that is going on in this area doesn't normally involve the bike racing scene. In the week before, a friend of mine was doing some training laps in the park and he said at one point while riding a single track section in the bushes and trees, there was a guy openly pissing while two dudes watched him.
As usual, I end up rushing trying to get my act together and make it to the race on time, so I put on the only clean shorts I could find. I sign on, have a 5 minute ride on part of the course, take a quick pee and dash to the start line just as everyone is lining up. In my hast I didn't fully, 'adjust myself' in the pretty low Assos bibshorts I was wearing. The race starts, first lap in and I know I'm not sitting comfortably. I carry on riding for as long as possible until I can find a suitable time and place to take one hand off the bars and make the necessary amendments to my wardrobe malfunction. As I enter a section of singletrack I reach down to my groin and delve into the shorts only to have my front wheel slip out on some protruding roots, as I was on my way to crashing, still with one hand, 'occupied' I managed to get a foot out and scramble to a stop. Shit, I rode off wondering what type of person could have come, quite literally, to my rescue. I'm sure I'd not be the first guy to be found in the trees there, on the floor with a hand down his shorts, out of breath and in pain.


Dicks can be scary things at the best of times.
Has anyone put the willies up you this Halloween, or have you seen any ghoulies?

Friday, 1 October 2010

Warning : There's a menace out on the street

Mile End will never be the same again.

George TNT rips annihilation through the suburbs. It's not safe out. Trust me.

Thursday, 23 September 2010

I saw Raymond Pettibon last week

One of my favourite songs. MINUTEMEN------PARANOID CHANT
I try to work and i keep thinking of world war three i try to talk to girls and i keep thinking of world war three the goddamn six o'clock news makes sure i keep thinking of world war three i got a mile of numbers and a ton of stats of warheads a million chinese with warheads i don't worry about crime anymore so many gaddamn scared faces i keep thinking of russia of russia paranoid stuck on overdrive paranoid scared shitless

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

I Met Raymond Pettibon Last Week

Here are some grotty punk flyers scanned in


I'm sure I hadsomething I wanted to blog

But I can't for the life of me remember what it was.

I got asked last night 'Excuse me, is that GT track bike?'
I had to answer 'No it's a convert.' It felt like saying 'No my tits aren't real, sorry.'

Tuesday, 21 September 2010

Snowdon is one of the other 3 peaks

I go up Snowdon at least once a year, usually via the Llanberis route that sort of follows the train tracks up. This year was slightly different type of ascent for me in that I tried to go up as fast as comfortably possible, this would be part of my 3 Peaks training. I jogged, yomped and staggered up, not really slaughtering myself but I wasn't just ambling. It was pretty wet and very cloudy all the way up from about 500feet which sucked so there were no views at the summit.
The 3 Peaks Cyclocross race is pretty insane. Check it out on the interweb. I'd managed to get a much sought after place in this years. I've spent the last 2 months riding as much as possible in the Welsh hills, scrambling up insanely steep climbs, running in sand dunes, sprinting up thousands of steps, carrying my bike up long grassy hills, riding off road and doing all kinds of daft stuff that I thought would help me finish the race. I certainly ain't a fast or strong rider, but I'd hope to be ADEQUATE enough to get to the end of it.
As it is, I doubt I'll even make it to the start line, all that training (probably too much shoulder bike carrying) has damaged the cartlidge between the discs of my neck so I haven't been able to ride or train at all for nearly 3 weeks now. Last physio session is only a few days from the start so things aren't looking good.

Thursday, 9 September 2010

The Shelf and the Bwlch Penbarras

I took Gabe out one night for a few hours on my road bike to sample the amazing panoramic views and a couple of hills I ride in Denbighshire, North Wales. We started half way up Moel Famau and headed out towards Ruthin and rode up the 3 miles climb of 'The Shelf'. We then turned around and rode back and went onto the savage climb known as the 'Old Bwlch'. This is a pretty tough climb for anyone and I've seen many blow up and have to walk up sections of it. On any large group rides that I've been on the call out of, 'everyman for themselves' goes out at the very start of this climb. I find that when you get to the first cattle grid it will take the same amount of effort to get to the notorious hairpin bend, no matter what don't give up, once you get past that bend it is a little bit easier until the last 200 metres which kicks up just enough to have you back out the saddle.
It has been in the 'Killer Climb' page of Cycling Weekly and got an overall rating of 8.5 out of 10.
Some Bwlch Penbarras facts:
2.25km/1.4 miles long
260 metres of climbing
25% at various points

Sunday, 5 September 2010

Fell Ride

There's some sort of radar on top of Great Dunn Fell, referred to round here as 'The Golf Ball'. It sits just next to Cross Fell, the highest point in the Penines which form the eastern wall of the Eden Valley here in Cumbria. Feeling all tough guy because I Nick dragged me up 'The Back of The Bulk' on his road bike - I tried to ride the dead-end of a road up to it.

I thought this would be the more civilised than Heartside, the other road up this side of the fell which would be buzzing with motorbikes this time on a sunday. There wasn't anything civil about it though. It's too steep. After nearly keeling over on the steepest bits I'd have to run and jump on my bike again, once it got a bit tamer, just to get the peddles round. Wrong Gear, totally.

Coming back down wasn't any fun either. After almost wearing through my tyre in the first hundred metres I got a puncture. That fixed, I'm not embarrassed to say I, walked the rest of the steep bits and only got on when I could safely woosh out onto a flattish bit.

Sunday, 29 August 2010

Dick Cup

If you ain't drinking from the furry tea cup you could always give this one a try.

Granny Segway Carnage

Bike Pick Berry n Apple Pie

We went on a bike ride and picked aload of berries, went for a drink to a pub were the local cycle club had stopped off and saw the most expensive bikes I'd ever seen in real life, then we rode home, picked some apples off the tree in my garden and then made a pie complete with little maggots. Berry pie bake off, real savage like.


Babe, got back. Hell yeah.
There's junk in that trunk.

Wednesday, 18 August 2010

Dig Photos

If you ever go to the office of the Editor of DigBMX 'zine you'll have to walk the long corridor lined with the original prints of some of the most iconic BMX photos.

Haro Master

Spotted this bike being paraded around Chester like a trophy by some Superdry/Henleys wearing tit. It was an amazing bike, totally accurate as a BMX museum piece, but all I could think about the owner was, 'You've got too much money and an ebay account, but it still can't buy you your youth back'.

Wednesday, 11 August 2010

Peter Crouch's New Bike

Here's Peter Crouch's new bike. And it's not an 800 quid prostitute.

The Break Down

"Why Am I Wet?"

Rolled into Biarritz not knowing where to stay. After dark and a few glasses of wine we curled up on a cosy bit of concrete and woke up on our own beach side balcony.

Flying home in pissy cycling shorts. It's a bug's life.

Monday, 2 August 2010

Our Cycle Holiday Was Better Than Yours

Art. Shiny stuff in Bilbau.