Old beginnings

Cruising on Kermit, my lovely old Azub T-Tris trike.

When I picked up a bicycle in 2009 it felt like a new start. I remembered what it had meant to me previously, bike-packing around the Scottish Highlands on ancient trails and roads and touring Picos de Europa in Spain before the Jeep tracks were paved over and ruined forever. That connection and sense of adventure could never be fully broken and by adding in the huge amount of fun we had mountain biking around North and Mid Wales in the 1980's and early nineties, I guess it was inevitable that I would pick up a bike again at some point.

And it was perhaps that marriage of something familiar and yet somehow new that saw a smile return to my face and hope being reborn in my heart. There have been thousands of miles under my various sets of wheels since that time and, Covid aside, there will be many more.

For me it has always been more about being outside than any particular sense of achievement from anything I've done. It's part of my DNA to be in places where solace rules the roost and the real world, along with all its realities, fade a little into the background. In a way you could say it's my lifeblood. Take it away, like this past year, and I start to whither and die. I need it as much as oxygen and water, as one of my life's foundations.

Have trike will travel. This wee journey was still over 1000 miles long.

Whilst not even being close to the transformation that butterflies endure, it is transformative for me. Once I close the door of the house and pedal away, a sense of relief and freedom sweeps over me that doesn't exist anywhere else in my life. 'You may go and explore', says my mind and so I do, deeply.

Perhaps it's all those years of climbing, flying, mountain walking and sleeping out in wild places. Perhaps it is just the accumulative mileage of man and bike. As Flan O'Brian iterated in his book: The Third Policeman, as people age they become more and more like their bikes in a transformative process that also sees the bicycle become more and more like them until it's hard to discern one from the other!

I should add at this point that my own cycling experience doesn't feel the same at all if I choose to ride an upright bike for any distance now days. It is just too uncomfortable, even on the most comfortable bike I've ever owned, my Trek 7.5. hybrid. No, for any distance I feel that should be left at home where it belongs, replaced by the wonderful recumbent trike that gives an almost religious experience when you get used to riding it. The view, the comfort, the consideration you get from others on the road, along with the social interaction it encourages leaves you feeling part of the world, rather than separate from it. Snails, tortoises and the like may have a point after all?

While trikes can be lightened and encouraged to go fast, there seems little point, unless you are in the position where you love competing and for various other reasons cannot ride an upright bike. And many people think that is their place, a chariot for those with physical and mental challenges and not to be taken seriously by 'real' cyclists. I'm not prepared to get covered in crap because mudguards are uncool. I hear how slow I am uphill. How heavy it is compared to matey's £8000 carbon wonder-bike. I hear how I cannot be seen and therefore shouldn't be on the road. As I said sarcastically to the last person who pounced on me and said just that, 'How do you know I'm here then, if you cannot see me? 

Come shine or.......

Each and every time I escape my house with Hercules the trike, I see, hear and feel things that I otherwise wouldn't, or would simply miss if I was in a hurry. My trike has taught me to slow down and while I don't expect young men to have a clue what I'm talking about, older men and those who battle saddles sores with various creams and lotions might want to take a closer look.

And there is another conversation I frequently hear: 'What you need is padded shorts mate,' I hear somebody saying to a fellow 'upwrong' rider. 'What you need is a good chamois cream,' says another. What you need is to get your bike fitted, another saddle, fatter tyres, less weight, better wheels, to spend more, better quality clothing, boingy forks. STOP. Perhaps what you need is a recumbent and then none of that matters any longer. But they are soooo expensive, I hear you all shout. Yes, but add up all the extras you have bought and the number of bikes changes you feel you needed in order to be comfortable and keep going fast, along with keeping up with the essential 'development' of road bikes, I'll put money on it that my trike cost less. Each to there own I guess.

...rain.

Comfort is relative. A stool is comfortable when you are camping, but it isn't a sofa is it? The new ICE trikes come with a seat that looks more comfortable than my sofa and my lowly KMX has a pad on the seat that effectively does the same thing. Abject comfort is one of the main draws to recumbent trike riding, and not have to balance is a gift you can only dream of when struggling with a fully loaded bike that won't do as it's told. Due to all the advantages that mainstream manufacturers ignore, as soon as you sit on a trike, you relax, and you stay that way, all day, and the next.

There's another similarity to the tortoise I mentioned earlier as well. My attitude to cycling is no longer about shiny things. No, it's about just riding slowly, how prehistoric is that? I only need one word in my cycling vocabulary and that is 'recumbent.' It's enough for people to be either a) Completely interested or b) completely disinterested. And that is wonderful as I don't have to justify my ride or feel embarrassed because I'm riding a Chris Boardman bike (which are excellent from what I understand). Yes, perhaps the biggest bonus of all is avoiding bike envy/bullshit. Rapha who? Eddy what? Campagnolo? Is that a Pizza with four cheeses? Yes, you will be completely oblivious to all of this and virtually invisible to 'serious cyclists' who aren't quite able to nod or say hello as they maintain, what they think to be, a race-face when they pass you by as you dawdle along. 

Innerleithin to Moffat. Stunning.

This in turn will lead to unflustered rides without Strava mapping your every move and times. You won't need a bike in the lounge, one of those without a back wheel and a screen through which somebody shouts at you. You can just, simply go out and ride, in the real world! Anywhere, any distance, any time and on your return, although tired from pedalling you won't need an Osteopath or personal masseur to get you back out again. You won't even need a computer as you won't have any analysis to do other than the studying of a map (remember them?) for your next ride whilst enjoying a cup of tea with a biscuit (a bourbon or custard cream and definitely not a Power-gel of any kind).

For extreme recumbent riding you can get Shimano sandals. Sad beyond words but a strong statement about how far from the cycling norm you have drifted. You can get shirts with pockets in the front, really. Why bother? I haver returned to ordinary baggy shorts and a T-shirt. How untechnical is that? no Lycra to be seen anywhere,  No drop-backed coat to stop spray. No rear pocket for a credit card and aforementioned Power Gel. Just a pannier on the back with stuff thrown into it. 

So as you can see, like the tortoise I am also a dinosaur, soon to be extinct but still ploughing my own furrow at my own pace. Bargain.What could be better? For me, nothing comes close. 

See you out there, or not if you don't want to talk to me because I ride recumbent.

Until next time.........................