In a world increasingly preoccupied with throwaway materialistic things; where people are constantly busy earning money to pay for those things, or so their children can have those things;
This is the story of my dreams of travelling the world by bicycle. Because it's there. And because I dont want to die without experiencing the truly important things in life .

A sense of wonder and a sense of adventure.

Thursday, 27 March 2014

Autumn Amble.

The anticipated cyclone turned out to be a fizzer. Just as well because I was committed to cycling to Christchurch (450kms) over the following two days. I was rostered at the cycle shop on the day that cyclone what's its name, rolled through town. Cycling in the rain to work and back I saw not another cyclist. Most kiwi cyclists have yet to discover the joys of commuting by bicycle and still more have yet to realise that bikes can be fitted with mudguards and are not water soluble. More realistically though they probably have some notion of it, but prefer not to dwell on it because the rain gives them yet another excuse to use their car during the week, and keep their cycle for the Sunday sunshine ride or Saturday race around the block.
The bike shop was quiet with the punters not wanting to brave the weather. This gave me time to once again ponder the delights of the Mercian hanging in the workshop. My battle scarred mudguards I decided would at some stage have to be replaced. I'd procured these German Esge guards many years before while working part-time at another bike shop. They'd been thrown in a cupboard by a mechanic with little need for long guards on his down hill mtb and as the major clientele of this shop were mtbers of one form or another, there the guards stayed. Waiting for someone who used his or her bike in all weathers to retrieve them. Waiting for someone who appreciated the need to keep clean and dry throughout the winter while riding their bike everyday. Waiting for 'Niel the Wheel' to grab them before they were crushed by some heavy handed armour clad down hill rider with hairy legs and baggy pants.

But now having served me well and having been repaired countless times I was thinking that I'd like to replace them with a set of alloy guards. The problem with them stemmed from their plastic nature and their lack of resistance to heavy handed baggage handlers while being flown from one country to the next. I have them set up so they can be removed relatively quickly but they still take some knocks. Over the years I suppose plastics harden and the UV sun in New Zealand is not kind.
So a new set of hard wearing alloy guards was next on my wish list. I search the normal stockists for such a thing and come up empty handed. ( No surprises there.) I turn my sights to the more boutique suppliers making practical gear for real cyclists but find that the gear is firstly ugly, secondly expensive, and finally made in Asia.
So once again I turn to my favourite supplier (EBay). I find English Bluemels alloy mudguards, NOS. They will fit the 26" wheels of my bike, they look awesome and they are new from the 1980's. Thank you EBay. But the price! $$$$$$$$$$
I don't care about the price though because nothing for a bicycle can ever cost as much as a car or kid. The next day I went down to my bike workshop to check out a pair of similar guards that I had stored there from a 27"/ 700C touring bike. Yes I decided , I wanted those in the 26" size for the Mercian. Can you believe that upon trying these 700C muddies on the bike for looks, I came to the conclusion that they would fit the Mercian perfectly saving me the $$$$$$ for the ones on EBay!
Life's a joy isn't it.
Don't be Fooled by the Scenery, the Sand flies around here Take No Prisoners.

I'm forgetting the topic for this blog however. By the next day the rain and wind was gone and I was off on my 200km ride to Reefton. I was still suspicious of the weather so left my old long guards on. Anticipating a tail wind from the x cyclone saw me very despondent when the first 100kms turned out to be a head wind. I was having a slow death until I forced myself to stop at Owen River Hotel for two ice creams and a huge Coca Cola. The wind finally died before I did and later having had more lollie water and some solid food I finally hit my form cruising into Reefton in the rain but with good spirits. I'd booked a cabin at the camp ground for the pricely sum of $25. It's great to see that some places still aren't trying to extract a King's ransom for everything. You do have to go out of your way to find them though.
Keeping an Eye on my Bike & Chubby Cheeked Truckers in the Background.

The next morning I started my 250km ride to Christchurch in persistent West Coast drizzle. I felt good though and at the 40km mark I stopped for breakfast and while I ate it the sun came out. Twas great to be out eating my high calorie junk food while watching Truckee's playing with their trailer units, all the time tucking shirts in to try and keep their bum cracks from showing. I can't really report much about the following 150kms of central South Island cycling except to say that the scenery was pleasant and the weather agreeable. I've cycled this route so often now that it has become quite predictable. Lunch at the 200km mark involved scoffing down more energy drink and a pie. I knew that time would be tight so I got going without delay. Although I carry lights I wanted to be all done and dusted by 8.30pm when the sun set. Traffic volumes increased as I neared Christchurch and with it a disproportional number of retards in bigger displacement Fords and Holdens. (Cars that I believe will soon be consigned to the scrap heap in Aussie where they are still manufactured, but not for very much longer).

I was in my cabin by dark and with a full tummy, having feasted on fish & chips 10kms up the road.
The next day I met up with Adi, and while she cycled back home to Nelson, I packed the Mercian into the rental car that she had arrived in and drove home.
East Coast.

And the net end result of this 450kms over 2days ... A gain in weight due to too much junk food and a decision to just give up on my evening sit-ups. Evening sit-ups that I had been doing since coming back from cycling across Canada last year.
What's the point? Next spring I start training for Paris - Brest- Paris. In fact if winter gets too boring  Adi and I may have to jet off somewhere cheap and get some early miles in.

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