If you don't use it...

Koga is dead.  Has been since the end of the coast to coast ride.  Unsurprising really.  God knows why she has taken this long to die cos my lar-jarse has been on her for so many years and many many miles.  She went in to surgery at the beginning of September for her Gates carbon belt drive to be fettled.  I'm now approaching mid October and she's is still in intensive care.  On life support.  She currently resides in the dark dank corners of the Cyclesense ossuary, somewhere in the huge pile of steel bones that Frankensteinial Marc no doubt has yet to bring back to life.  

I think [I cannot say I know because I don’t] that Marc has the replacement Gates carbon drive sprockets so it's just a matter of time for him to fit them?  However, because of the delay the 100 mile per week cycle rides have ceased.  Big bike rides are no more.  Deader than a Norwegian Blue...   

As a result my bodyweight is increasing.  I can feel it, Dave.  Not yet into the spray on clothing category but for sure I know.  It's the carbs you see.  Happens to me every year after the summer cycling season has ended.  I always fail to cut back on the bread and pasta - you know - the calorific stuff that's needed to keep the legs turning when doing big miles.  Without a bike to play with the only option for Audrey II is to unpack the inbound food, choff half of it and package the surplus up and pack it away under my skin which seems to be getting tighter every day; then sling the remains of the day onto her old Greek airport conveyor belt to be thrust back out into the bright world at about 9am.  I'm like a big grizzly bear preparing for winter hibernation.  On a seafood diet.  If I see it I'll eat it.

So in desparation I've worked to get my Dawes 600 Audax Giro bike back on the road.  I've stripped her to the frame.  Rubbed down and repainted her rusty bits.  Had her head and bottom bracket bearings changed.  Wheel bearings re-greased.  Brakes and gear mechanisms thoroughly cleaned and lubricated.  New mudguards.  Replaced all cables and the manky handlebar foam grips too.  Big job.  Here's some photos...

1. Resprayed the lowers which included the bottom bracket

2. Cleaned and lubricated the brakes and installed new cables. 

3. Same for the derailleurs

4. Serviced the RX100 shift mechanisms and replaced the foam handlebar grips...

New mudguard brackets dint fit so had to cut / grind / file to size.

And here she is fettled and ready for the road again.  30 years old.  A classic apparently.  But again she's as good as new.  Wish the same could be done for me.  I always fancied being rubbed down (phwoarr!!)

Now talk about being tentative.  Ma boys looked down in amazement as I cocked my leg over her back for the first time in many years.  'He's kidding isn't he?', I hear them mutter.  'She's so slender and tiny.  He'll break her the first time he gets a blob on won't he?'..   Just then I feel them shuffle forward.  I think they think there truly is a major risk of a steely finger breaking free and impaling me through my jacksy as her old slimline frame crumples under my stupendous weight.

The first couple of rides were very careful.  A spin around some interesting features.  I fumbled along over a pair of busty hillocks.  Woa boy!  Take it easy.  The legs aren’t what they used to be.  No action for 5 weeks is bad news.  I’m out of shape.  Well, I’ve always been out of shape.  I settle into my elbows and generate a cautious but smooth rhythm.  My head now close to hers.  Good.  Nothing has fallen off.  Yet.  I smooch across some more lumpy bumpy bits.  I drop down into the woods where I pause for a wet slobbery lunch.  Good - no bad squeaks or wobbles from her yet.  Cept for a small jump when I finally got a spurt on.  Poor girl.  But she hangs in there.  Grits her teeth.  If she had fingernails they'd be deep in my back.  I relax my firm grip, reposition my feet and ease off a little.  Ah, that’s better.  She settles into the thrust just right.  For sure she's a good un!  Flippin eck!  I need to cut this story short cos I’m getting hot under the collar!

I thought I was travelling a tad faster than when riding my Koga.  So I pocketed the crap nav to record the last journey.  She's not for the rough stuff so route planning keeps me mainly to the smooth bits.  I'm greasing along towards Stillingfleet with I think another cyclist not far behind me.  I hit the short climb in the village and get a prompt slap from the lass for being too rough and so stop half way up the hill to check her knicker elastic.  

A racing snake cruises past.  'Don't stop, she’s nearly at the top!', he shouts.  I twiddle with her right hand nipple, climb back on, get a thrust on and catch the snake.  It feels like I’m in Riccall with other members of its dogging community.  But I am not.  

The next 4 miles we chatted.  About our bikes and our rides out.  He works at the University and often commutes on his bike to / from home in Sherburn in Elmet.  That's a 30 mile commute each day.   Our paths part just outside of Cawood and I get a big well done, keep it up from him.  

Ahem!  Cheeky young bloody racing snake.  For sure racing snakes only speak to other racing snakes.  Even the faux ones like me to all intents looking like a fat vacuum cleaner hose with a gorilla tape head and tail.  I note how racing snakes have exactly the same herding behaviour as the BMW motorcycle riding wildebeests that pretend to roam the veldt.  And they're just as ignorant.

All I can say its a good job I wasn't pressing on hard cos for sure I'd have left him for dust!  But wow did that feel good.  Even ma boys were jumping up and down in their hammocks.  Wheeee!!  Thank God no hills though as 20 stone going uphill is a darn sight slower than 20 stones on the flat.  It feels like I'm kick starting the planet every time I set off.  But the months of riding an overloaded tour bike in the hills weighing about one sixth of a ton has for sure given me good strength in my aged legs.  

I get home.  I find the crap nav in my back pocket which has recorded the whole darn ride.  I do not believe it.  My average speed was 14.5 mph.  Average.  Maximum thrust was 24 mph.  None of it wind nor gravity assisted.  I'm gobsmacked.  The absolute best I've ever done on my Koga was 12.99mph and that was getting home with my lungs hanging out.  A more normal average is 11.5 mph.  Oh my God.  What a difference on Dawes.  On average 3mph faster!  

What a ride!  I feel like a young man again.  I’ve not lost it.  Not at all.  It’s as easy as riding a bike some say.  Once done never forgotten.  

Tired and sweaty I slump onto the bed, relax and fall into a deep sleep.  Blokes, huh..  

But… Wow!  Thank you Dawes my darling....

That was the best sex ever! :-)

Ciao for now.