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Other bikes, that I once rode but no longer do, unless on a turbo, and given how much I despise using a turbo, they really are bikes-I-once-rode-but-no-longer-do. Yet, keep them I do. They saw active service in the mid to late noughties, and are typical of the period: aluminium frame with carbon fork, the Gios
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My son isn’t much interested in cycling. Through the influence of his mum, basketball is more his thing. But on occasion I can persuade him to accompany me on one of my ambles by bike, in fact, I managed it twice recently. The first was just a short jaunt, heading out to the local beach*
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We’ve all got one in us, and I’ve been busy writing mine. Fond of hours in the saddle, on the path less pedalled, it’s not unusual for me to get caught short: ‘A Defecator’s Guide to the Leaves of Britain’. A mixture of oak and bracken was the solution during the latest instalment of the
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The most regretful people on Earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time. Mary Oliver What do I create? In a previous life, I worked as a medicinal chemist in the field of drug discovery, trying
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How much of it was necessary, I don’t know. But it got done: the cabinet for storing files was hung in the office; the wooden worktops in the kitchen were varnished; clothes were washed, dishes too; tasks in the garden – shrubs pruned and perennials flush with the seemingly daily rain cut back, bird feeders
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“And in some of the people of the town and the community surrounding it, one of the characteristic diseases of the twentieth century was making its way: the suspicion that they would be greatly improved if they were someplace else.” Wendell Berry This article on Bikepacking.com is the best writing on cycling I’ve read in
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I was a touch disparaging about The Red Bike a while back. Poor bike – a creation of my own hand, and yet I dump my frustrations with its build and looks on it. It works just fine, performing admirably on the rough stuff, but it’s somewhere off my idealised vision of what a cyclokairos
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A somewhat pessimistic post last time out. A ride out Bearley way offered glimpses of nature doing alright, getting on with things. Approaching the village from the direction of Snitterfield, there’s a bridleway to the right, running alongside the first house on the north side of the village. Its start, a grass verge next to
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Cyclokairos 