Gone Full Tonto
Good morning peeps. This is my recollection of a conversation I had the other day with my bestest mate and side kick - Tonto. There we were sat on our horses chatting about bum jokes and other numb things along with the plan to ride from John O Groats to Lands End later this year.
‘Umm, Kemosabe, you have heap big problem.’
‘Ah! Well, yes Tonto, apparently so... but the doctor tells me it's nothing to worry about…’
‘Tonto hear sound of medicine drums’
‘No, really, do not worry my faithful Indian tour guide. My panniers are full of bum cream.... and applicators. I have plenty. Thank you my friend.'
[I dig my heels into the side of Silver who with a start neighs loudly and launches up into the air]
'HI-HO SILVER!!!’
‘Uh! Kemosabe have pain.’
‘Oooh, well now that you mention it, yes just a little…’
‘Kemosabe like squaw who squark like angry bird. Cry too much. Cry too loud. Make headache.’
‘What? Well, er, yes, perhaps. It’s just that I’m a little saddle sore my friend with all of this riding around getting the miles in preparing for the big ride this year. It's causing no end of problems with my perennials you know....
‘Tonto have no saddle. No padded underwear. Tonto show you…’
[Tonto raises his leathery skirt, leg and bum cheek off the back of his patchwork dirt and dried bum cream encrusted Appaloosa pony, called Toe Knee...]
‘Aw God no, Tonto! Stoppit! Put it away will you!…
[whilst peeking between fingers I spy the results of a riding initiated nappy crash...]
Ah! Now I understand why you're called Redskins!…’
‘Tonto feel sorry for horse. Tonto no have Lil-Let’s…’
‘Oooh, Tonto 'ol chum 'ol friend. My rear end feels like a sore horses arse after eating way too much dried grass …’
‘Tonto have word for dry grass: ‘what the hey.’
‘What the what? Anyway did I tell you we are going to ride from John o Groats to Lands End to foil a Cornish pastie robbery later this year?’
'White man speak with forked tongue'
'No, no it's true me old mucker. And you don't need a fork to eat them either! Great. So yes, we can look forward to another 1000 miles of arse pummelling enjoyment and sore bits!'
‘Kimosabe have sickness in head. Cannot fix with medicine.’
‘No! No! We must go and eat all those Cornish pasties before they get nicked mustn’t we? Do you think we are silly to ride all that way?
‘Me think so. Tonto laugh at you. Ha. Like bum face turn red. Totem pole turn black. Kimosabe make sound like broken choo-choo.’.
'But Tonto you will ride along with me won't you? You are my side kick, my best friend?'
‘Hmmm. Tonto say NO. Tonto think Kimosabe now Lone Ranger’
And there it is. That's how I got my latest nickname. Other than Fat BOB [1]
Tonto though is not as daft as he sounds [2]. Unlike the mad fuckwit megalomaniac Blofeld who is scaring the world with his nuclear threat on the back of his invasion of Ukraine. More on that to follow. And SOON!
Nonetheless, am I truly the only one that might relish some of these silly long distance rides? To relish them yes, perhaps. But what's this, even though he suffered the NC500 ride with me in 2019 - 3 YEARS ago already - the great news is that London Alan (or London Electric if he uses his new e-bike) is planning to do the end-to-end journey with me. Yay! With South Side Mark on the ride from John O Groats to Gretna so the full length of Scottie land and David the gentle giant on the Inverness to Glasgow section. The three, er.., four Muchachos! Musketeers even!
Fair do's, I don't rush my tour rides any more and at 3 weeks, whilst not easy, should make the long way down ride just a little bit more civilised perhaps than the standard 2 week torturous ride attempted by many other working folk cos of annual leave limitations. That's proper hard core. Thank God for retirement!
Training has started. It's either the magnetic trainer if too wet / windy or 30 plus mile loops out of York every alternate day. As we push through March, April and into May I'll up the ante aiming to get to doing 50 mile loops at least every other day finishing with a 3 day practice ride with London Alan from Brighton to his home back on the north Kent coast to test out our bikes and rear ends.
Bad news for me though. My new bike frame is again delayed until April at the earliest. If it does not make it to the shop next time around I'll not be using the yet to be built off road super duper tour bike. I will not take a new bike on such a ride without a thorough shake down and so will have to use Koga again. She's a strong but heavy bird and whilst I like her, a lot, riding her for 1000 miles for sure will need me to pack a mega pack of hard wearing condoms and plenty of lube. My rear end will end up looking like the result of a mega explosion at a Ukranian Vaseline factory. Gawd!
Train up to Inverness now booked. Trying feverishly to find travel for the bikes up to Wick which will be our start point with the initial ride up to JOG and then across to Thurso to finish day 1 at the end of May.
Only 3 months before we start... Getting excited!
Balloon dog, down boy, DOWN! Will you stop jumping up you stupid imaginary inflatable animal!
Ciao for now.
[1] I'm no Robert for sure. And I cannot take the name Kimosabe can I? I'm just a Fat Bloke on a Bike (Fat BOB!) innit. Or... am I Tonto? Hmmmm. You decide..
[2] The word 'Tonto' apparently originates from the Spanish language which was introduced to Mexico and so on to the plains Indians in the 19th centrury. It means: Stupid! Dumb! Idiot! Silly! Fool! and so on. Yeah that's me that is.
‘Umm, Kemosabe, you have heap big problem.’
‘Ah! Well, yes Tonto, apparently so... but the doctor tells me it's nothing to worry about…’
‘Tonto hear sound of medicine drums’
‘No, really, do not worry my faithful Indian tour guide. My panniers are full of bum cream.... and applicators. I have plenty. Thank you my friend.'
[I dig my heels into the side of Silver who with a start neighs loudly and launches up into the air]
'HI-HO SILVER!!!’
‘Uh! Kemosabe have pain.’
‘Oooh, well now that you mention it, yes just a little…’
‘Kemosabe like squaw who squark like angry bird. Cry too much. Cry too loud. Make headache.’
‘What? Well, er, yes, perhaps. It’s just that I’m a little saddle sore my friend with all of this riding around getting the miles in preparing for the big ride this year. It's causing no end of problems with my perennials you know....
‘Tonto have no saddle. No padded underwear. Tonto show you…’
[Tonto raises his leathery skirt, leg and bum cheek off the back of his patchwork dirt and dried bum cream encrusted Appaloosa pony, called Toe Knee...]
‘Aw God no, Tonto! Stoppit! Put it away will you!…
[whilst peeking between fingers I spy the results of a riding initiated nappy crash...]
Ah! Now I understand why you're called Redskins!…’
‘Tonto feel sorry for horse. Tonto no have Lil-Let’s…’
‘Oooh, Tonto 'ol chum 'ol friend. My rear end feels like a sore horses arse after eating way too much dried grass …’
‘Tonto have word for dry grass: ‘what the hey.’
‘What the what? Anyway did I tell you we are going to ride from John o Groats to Lands End to foil a Cornish pastie robbery later this year?’
'White man speak with forked tongue'
'No, no it's true me old mucker. And you don't need a fork to eat them either! Great. So yes, we can look forward to another 1000 miles of arse pummelling enjoyment and sore bits!'
‘Kimosabe have sickness in head. Cannot fix with medicine.’
‘No! No! We must go and eat all those Cornish pasties before they get nicked mustn’t we? Do you think we are silly to ride all that way?
‘Me think so. Tonto laugh at you. Ha. Like bum face turn red. Totem pole turn black. Kimosabe make sound like broken choo-choo.’.
'But Tonto you will ride along with me won't you? You are my side kick, my best friend?'
‘Hmmm. Tonto say NO. Tonto think Kimosabe now Lone Ranger’
And there it is. That's how I got my latest nickname. Other than Fat BOB [1]
Tonto though is not as daft as he sounds [2]. Unlike the mad fuckwit megalomaniac Blofeld who is scaring the world with his nuclear threat on the back of his invasion of Ukraine. More on that to follow. And SOON!
Nonetheless, am I truly the only one that might relish some of these silly long distance rides? To relish them yes, perhaps. But what's this, even though he suffered the NC500 ride with me in 2019 - 3 YEARS ago already - the great news is that London Alan (or London Electric if he uses his new e-bike) is planning to do the end-to-end journey with me. Yay! With South Side Mark on the ride from John O Groats to Gretna so the full length of Scottie land and David the gentle giant on the Inverness to Glasgow section. The three, er.., four Muchachos! Musketeers even!
Fair do's, I don't rush my tour rides any more and at 3 weeks, whilst not easy, should make the long way down ride just a little bit more civilised perhaps than the standard 2 week torturous ride attempted by many other working folk cos of annual leave limitations. That's proper hard core. Thank God for retirement!
Training has started. It's either the magnetic trainer if too wet / windy or 30 plus mile loops out of York every alternate day. As we push through March, April and into May I'll up the ante aiming to get to doing 50 mile loops at least every other day finishing with a 3 day practice ride with London Alan from Brighton to his home back on the north Kent coast to test out our bikes and rear ends.
Bad news for me though. My new bike frame is again delayed until April at the earliest. If it does not make it to the shop next time around I'll not be using the yet to be built off road super duper tour bike. I will not take a new bike on such a ride without a thorough shake down and so will have to use Koga again. She's a strong but heavy bird and whilst I like her, a lot, riding her for 1000 miles for sure will need me to pack a mega pack of hard wearing condoms and plenty of lube. My rear end will end up looking like the result of a mega explosion at a Ukranian Vaseline factory. Gawd!
Train up to Inverness now booked. Trying feverishly to find travel for the bikes up to Wick which will be our start point with the initial ride up to JOG and then across to Thurso to finish day 1 at the end of May.
Only 3 months before we start... Getting excited!
Balloon dog, down boy, DOWN! Will you stop jumping up you stupid imaginary inflatable animal!
Ciao for now.
[1] I'm no Robert for sure. And I cannot take the name Kimosabe can I? I'm just a Fat Bloke on a Bike (Fat BOB!) innit. Or... am I Tonto? Hmmmm. You decide..
[2] The word 'Tonto' apparently originates from the Spanish language which was introduced to Mexico and so on to the plains Indians in the 19th centrury. It means: Stupid! Dumb! Idiot! Silly! Fool! and so on. Yeah that's me that is.
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