More Stuff....

Had the best 3 days ever this week riding Elite Rollers for the Madison Ice Bike show. I rode enough for my legs to be burning by the last day, and yes, I did crash a couple of times, in front of the crowd, but only when I was showing off! I can't remember the last time I felt so relaxed and happy, no responsibilities other than to ride my bike, lots of friendly people and great food, the evening parties were immense and in all I was very sad to leave.

I arrived with my bike and two heavy bags, it was hard work on the train, but manageable. In the evenings there was a casino with fake money, at random points there would be a chance to win a prize, e.g. by getting 21 points on your cards. Out of 6 prizes to be won over 2 nights I won 4!!! I LOVE gambling! Some bloke was moaning that it was a fix, but the evidence was right there, I got the jack and the ace. I gave away 2 bottles of wine (as booze was free there) but kept the giant tub of jelly beans and box of champange. And then over to the karaoke, where we sang for about 5 hours!
At this point I just want to break away from my story about stuff and quickly talk about Katie, a super-loud, super-friendly Dutch girl from Sustrans. She introduced me to the other Katie and for the first time ever at a trade show I found myself partying with a group of young, fun girls. It was wicked! I have a feeling that Madison are going to hire Katie to come to every event they do to break the ice and make sure that everyone becomes friends and has a good time.

So, during the day I was told that some of my personal kit was the wrong brand for a madison show. I then got given a pair of beautiful Shimano shoes, pedals and cleats. Pearl Izumi then complimented that with a multi pack of socks, and then threw in a couple of jerseys ( I was well chuffed, Pearl Izumi are a gorgeous brand!) and San Marco dropped by to give me some hats and a saddle. Whilst I am slightly gloating here, the point of aquiring all this stuff leads me to a journey from hell....

leaving the hotel on the last day the receptionist felt so sorry for me so loaded up that she went running to find me an old, zippy suit bag, which if I didn't have I wouldn't have managed what I did. The taxi driver laughed at me as I tried to get in the car. And this was without my bike! When the dude I was working for dropped me at the station in the evening I took my bike out of the back seat and stood there whilst he loaded me up like a mule (haha, geddit) and finally put the money for my ticket between my teeth. A lovely man helped me onto the train, he used to race at Eastway as a boy, we chatted until he asked me if I was still at school...after which I went into a sulk.

Unfortunately he got off before me, and after that no-one else bothered to give me a hand. I got off at Willesdon Jct, somehow got up the stairs, only to find the train line to Clapham was closed. I went back down the stairs, and by now I was grunting and snotting from strain. I was told to get the train to Paddington and the District line to Victoria even though my ticket didn't allow me through London. Back on the train I saw it went to Waterloo so I thought that would be easiest. To avoid blocking th doors I sat on the seats with my bike next to me, taking up 4 spaces. Suddenly we were in central London and it was 7pm and proper crowded. Going through Oxford Circus I thought I was going to get lynched, I kep my blushing face down and held my breath. At Waterloo I carried my bike up the escalators to the gates. The man looked incredulous at me "you know you'r not allowed your bike on this line love?" I didn't say anything, I was panting too hard, and in silence he just opened the gate and let me through.

it was ok then getting to East Croydon, where I banked on getting a taxi to my studio a 10 minute walk away, but, the taxi driver wouldn't take me as it was too close!!!! I was furious, and I regret not telling him what I thought of him. I dropped my stuff and fell over about 5 times on that 10 minute walk. The journey took over 3 hours and nearly killed me, and in hindsight, I feel like I worked really hard to get that stuff, and I deserve it. Humph.

too much stuff

Another weekend, another adventure.
I was preparing to go to Bristol and Bath with the AnaNichoola gloves to show to some of the cool bike shops there. I was combining the trip with a DH race, and aware that on Monday evening I'd have to be packed for a 3 day trip to Milton Keynes where I have a job promoting rollers by riding them. I've never ridden rollers. With a bit of forward thinking I got my boyf to fix up my track bike on Friday night (it's been in pieces since the mini drome) so I could have a quick practice/learn. But a load of things went wrong, and the bike wouldn't work and the series of events led to me sitting on the floor crying because I have too much stuff for 5 days worth of thinking and most of it doesn't work, or I can't do it, and it was a bit overwhelming. And I had a cold. And I'm just a bit of a cry baby. We decided that the track bike was now "good enough" but still a bit fucked, I guess I must have crashed it harder than I thought...
Apparently at 6 am the alarm went off. I disagree. So at 8am there was a rushed panic to the car. It actually turned out to be a fantastic day, meeting the people running independent bike shops and having great success with the gloves. Fingers crossed for 5 new stockists! TBA. As I had my meetings Ed wandered around the towns patiently, we had packed lunch ready in the car (cheese and pickle rolls) and finally ended up the day in the Mud Dock bike cafe. As it got dark next to the river we had a beer and a wine, it's a really, really great place and I recommend anyone to go there.

We met our hosts for the night, my team mate Wiesia's best friends. I'd never met them, but they let us stay in exchange for a dinner of carbonara and Jamaca cake and custard for desert. It was nice to meet some new, lovely people and chill out somewhere different.

The next day was down hill day. I had google searched "down hill near bristol" and was delighted with the result. The Black Canon Collective is one of the best things I have discovered recently, it's like a club for people who want to ride in Frome. The guy that runs it was really welcoming and ensured that we found it ok and the kids that populate it are friendly, chipping in to help mark out their local course and making sure that no litter was left around. You get given a timing watch and time yourself on the run, using honesty to write down your time. I dragged my boyf into racing, he doesn't own a mountain bike (well, he does now, he just bought on on ebay) and I was quite upset that he was hot on my heels. I feel really lucky to date a bloke who is proud when I beat him in a male dominated event, and instead of just leaving me to it, he gets stuck in and gets involved. There aren't many guys like that. And he's really good looking, so it's a double bonus. We both beat a few people, there were no girls there which was a shame. On my final run I crashed on some roots and crushed my fingers under my body armour. I stood up and felt the familiar heat-wave of pain flow through me, I thought they were broken. But then I remembered being laughed at by Louise when I thought that before. They are just bruised, but bruised black and gooooood.

So now it's monday night, I have black fingers and instead of recording my life I really should go and learn how to ride rollers in time for tomorrow morning. Wish me luck!