# Velosolo Club



## anothersam (28 Oct 2013)

I hereby announce the formation of the Velosolo Club. The idea behind the club is very simple. It's for people who usually ride alone.

Velosolo Club rules are as follows:
- Dress is informal, meaning cycling kit isn't required to go on a club ride. Rapha may be worn if ironed.
- There are no UCI-type regulations as to the specifications of the bike, though fixed-gear fanciers will be watched very closely.
- Stop at red lights, go like a bat out of hell when they turn green. If you can go like a bat out of hell. If you can't, no worries.
- Undertaking is forbidden unless you are a qualified undertaker. Certificates may be obtained from the club office.
- Other riding customs as your experience and sense of propriety dictate.
- Minimum club ride distance is as follows: any ride which takes longer than the preparation for that ride.
- More or fewer rules as they become necessary.
No affiliation with the online shop of the same name

Now, I recognise that sometimes it's nice to go for a spin with other people. Occasionally I do this, but it's difficult as my weekends are usually spoken for. Therefore I propose the following: If some portion of the territory between the vibrant metropolises of London and Hastings is of interest







and you would like to enjoy an atypical club outing, defined here as a non-solo ride, get in touch and we'll see what can be arranged.


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## ScotiaLass (28 Oct 2013)

The voices usually come with me on my rides - does that count as solo?


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## Pro Tour Punditry (28 Oct 2013)

Haha. too many rules for me: get bike, go out.


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## anothersam (28 Oct 2013)

ScotiaLass said:


> The voices usually come with me on my rides - does that count as solo?



Ask them, but beware of confirmation bias.


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## DCLane (28 Oct 2013)

To be sponsored by Velosolo?


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## anothersam (28 Oct 2013)

No, as originally posted. I have no facilities for anodizing, either.


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## Eribiste (30 Oct 2013)

I never ride alone, I have my bike with me, which I talk to quite a lot. I assume this is normal.


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## ScotiaLass (30 Oct 2013)

Eribiste said:


> I never ride alone, I have my bike with me, which I talk to quite a lot. I assume this is normal.



Yes.


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## rbreid (31 Oct 2013)

Eribiste said:


> I never ride alone, I have my bike with me, which I talk to quite a lot. I assume this is normal.


Essential I'd have thought but do have the patience to listen carefully to its responses as bicycles never lie unless some egotistical fool applies the wrong decals. Overheard on a club run many years ago "So you really think that,s a Colnago huh, curious use of stamped dropouts, must be a prototype"


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## anothersam (1 Nov 2013)

Had my first official VC ride the other day. In keeping with best club practice I wrote it up and posted it where nobody is likely to find it. Here's a picture of one of the sights I saw along the way:






As to this business of talking to our bikes, remember that it is polite to speak its language. For example, should I care to have a word with my Enigma, English will be fine as it was made here in Sussex. Components are a complication; the cranks are Sugino, so to coax them to a higher cadence I should ideally memorise a few flattering phrases in Japanese.

Many a time I've heard passing cyclists singing to their Campagnolo groupsets in beautiful or at least enthusiastic Italian.


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## rbreid (2 Nov 2013)

anothersam said:


> As to this business of talking to our bikes, remember that it is polite to speak its language. For example, should I care to have a word with my Enigma, English will be fine as it was made here in Sussex. Components are a complication; the cranks are Sugino, so to coax them to a higher cadence I should ideally memorise a few flattering phrases in Japanese.
> 
> Many a time I've heard passing cyclists singing to their Campagnolo groupsets in beautiful or at least enthusiastic Italian.



Aaaah. Now it's all clear, often wondered why my Flying Scot understands everything I say. Yet the Jensen from Croydon doesn't and I have to speak VERY VERY LOUDLY and slooooowly. He's a sarf lunduner and doesn't speak english


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## HLaB (22 Nov 2013)

Marmion said:


> Haha. too many rules for me: get bike, go out.


 Yip, rules number 55; there are no rules cycling is all about freedom


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## steve52 (22 Nov 2013)

im in


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## cosmicbike (22 Nov 2013)

What a nice idea, I think I've already been a member for some time...


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## colly (22 Nov 2013)

I'm with @cosmicbike (or not) in that I've been a long time member even though I didn't know it and despite that fact the club was unformed.


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## screenman (23 Nov 2013)

What seems just slightly odd to me is that some people do not want live company, but do want the type offered here in a non real world of mysterious named computor driven communications.


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## cosmicbike (23 Nov 2013)

screenman said:


> What seems just slightly odd to me is that some people do not want live company, but do want the type offered here in a non real world of mysterious named computor driven communications.


 I love company in the real world, but the reality of forums is you can dip in and out when you have a spare 5 mins, you don't need to arrange etc.
As far as cycling goes, I mostly ride solo, simply due to working shifts and riding during the week mostly.


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## screenman (23 Nov 2013)

cosmicbike said:


> I love company in the real world, but the reality of forums is you can dip in and out when you have a spare 5 mins, you don't need to arrange etc.
> As far as cycling goes, I mostly ride solo, simply due to working shifts and riding during the week mostly.


I have a good mate in Egham who does the same he works at at Heathrow.


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## cosmicbike (23 Nov 2013)

screenman said:


> I have a good mate in Egham who does the same he works at at Heathrow.


 As do I, it's not me is it


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## screenman (23 Nov 2013)

cosmicbike said:


> As do I, it's not me is it


Not unless you live near the sports centre and have a pal that is coming down from up north on the 7th of the 12th


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## cosmicbike (23 Nov 2013)

screenman said:


> Not unless you live near the sports centre and have a pal that is coming down from up north on the 7th of the 12th


 Well one out of 2 ain't bad..


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## screenman (23 Nov 2013)

I would imagine you know him.


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## anothersam (2 Mar 2015)

The Club has been busy since I last posted. We don't have a central repository of ride reports, and the vast majority of members have yet to self-identify as such, so it's impossible to know just how busy, but I'm confident winter hasn't chilled our enthusiasm for clocking up the roadtime. My personal favourite miles are city miles, which I usually do on a folder, thus also giving me automatic membership in the Folder Club (and affiliate membership with the Origami Club). I notice Boris has his own club & bikes, complete with sponsorship; am considering starting talks with an appropriately high class sponsor for us.

I sense there has been some agitation in the ether for a Club jersey, so here it is. To avoid those awkward "What colour is that?" questions, it's not available in any colours.


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## Rafferty (2 Mar 2015)

My bike is French, but I don't speak the lingo. Could this be why I find cycling such hard work sometimes? 
I'd like a club jersey, and as it doesn't come in any colours, can I pay for it with non-denomination coins, or the sound of them being shaken in a tin?


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## anothersam (2 Mar 2015)

I'll accept the sound of bitcoins dropping into a bitcoin wallet, or Yapese rai skipping across a pond.


…After posting that I started wondering if bitcoins really do make a sound. I'll also accept the sound of silence


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gvNtG4QSKlc


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## pawl (3 Mar 2015)

Eribiste said:


> I never ride alone, I have my bike with me, which I talk to quite a lot. I assume this is normal.


Start to worry if the bike talks back.


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## anothersam (4 Mar 2015)

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wxPBuD9QUEY


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## Aperitif (4 Mar 2015)

Presumably the TEC name will be written in invisible ink. It's all very laconic. Put me down four one. In keeping with rains, I'll shower you with unethical money in April, first.
I like clubs, me.


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## anothersam (4 Mar 2015)

The ink will show up only when the jersey gets wet in the rain.

Welcome to the club! How did you know that was one of our motivational videos?


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## Rafferty (4 Mar 2015)

Where is the first club 'meet'? If you can pencil it in on one of the days I can't make it, that would be helpful.


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## Aperitif (4 Mar 2015)

Rafferty said:


> Where is the first club 'meet'? If you can pencil it in on one of the days I can't make it, that would be helpful.


Pencil? The pen is mightier than the sourde, although your wish May Fall on deaf ears as all members should be upstanding and not stoop, solo. I quite like the idea of a Club with 'gritte integrity.


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## anothersam (4 Mar 2015)

Well, bank holidays are out, the roads are too crowded with other club runs, we like our space. Weekends are out too, my wife likes having me around for some reason. Weekdays are also problematical. Other than that 2015 is looking like a particularly good year.


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## Rafferty (4 Mar 2015)

anothersam said:


> Well, bank holidays are out, the roads are too crowded with other club runs, we like our space. Weekends are out too, my wife likes having me around for some reason. Weekdays are also problematical. Other than that 2015 is looking like a particularly good year.


Great news, put me down as a 'possible'.


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## anothersam (4 May 2015)

Went on a club run yesterday as a head cold was brewing. "I'll be fine," I sneezed to my wife. Just 14 miles, up to the pyramid and back. That would be the Great Pyramid of Brightling. Sits in a church yard, its builder now eternally retired from a life of follies.







It was windy, so I took the straight-barred rock steady Litespeed, which although long since toppled from its position at the pinnacle of my small stable, often still surprises me by the joy it is capable of bringing to a ride.

Passed a couple almost identically dressed and hunched over in effort against the elements. He was only slightly ahead, performing the slipstreaming labour of love.

When I got home it was snowing cherry blossoms.


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## raleighnut (4 May 2015)

I seem to have been an involuntary member of long standing, try to notify me of the next club ride and I'll do my best not to remember it. Ride Free


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## Mad Doug Biker (5 May 2015)

Me too. If you can arrange a club run when I am having route canal work or something at the Dentist, that would be most appreciated, thanks!

P.S. I also talk to my bikes generally, but mainly when the scenery and weather is nice (My Felt was bought from a guy in London, so I extol the virtues of the Scottish landscape to it!), or if I am taking them to somewhere they have never been before!


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## anothersam (5 May 2015)

Mad Doug Biker said:


> If you can arrange a club run when I am having route canal work or something at the Dentist


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## anothersam (15 Jun 2015)

The Velosolo Club conducted a joint operation with the Bridges & Beers brigade yesterday.

The train ride up from the VCHQ in East Sussex was uneventful. Accompanied by the Club vice president, we alighted from Waterloo station and into the middle of a selfie safari.





_note the pint-sized Darth Vader, who clearly wasn't thinking safety_





Having only one bike between us, we were forced to take another train to Hampton Court, which those who watched _Wolf Hall_ will recall was seized by Henry after Wolsey proved too slyly likeable.






Hampton Court station came with its own jester, shown here interrogating a jackdaw.






After meeting some of the B&B cast, the Club treasurer fled to Oxford Street to navigate the treacherous women's floor at John Lewis and buy a skirt.

The ride promised and delivered bridges. Being largely unfamiliar with the far southwestern reaches of London (who knew the Thames went past Westminster Bridge?), I was grateful to have a guide who knew the lay of the land, which we occasionally doubled back on as an aid to imprinting it in our collective memory.

By the time we arrived at our first pub in Wandsworth, after traversing more riverside than has evidently been mapped, sometimes on paths not quite fit for an entourage but thankfully cleared of velociraptors if not humble pilgrims without bikes, I was hungry if not thirsty. Sitting next to Richard Gere, who had also come along on the ride, I watched with quiet horror his unfinished chips being taken from the table before I had time to cadge some, having only budgeted for a thrifty Subway sandwich procured the day before.

A bit further along we observed a helicopter whirling itself into the sky. Probably someone with a Brompton showing off.

Speaking of which, quite often when we hit smooth tarmac I adopted Club practice of Look mum no hands. This is difficult to pull off in a group ride without looking like a d**k. Let the record show this is my version of a Snoopy dance, and is in no way meant to demoralise those who don't enjoy good caster steering. It also soothes my occasionally troublesome back.





_random earthworks turtle pic_

Not long after hitting London proper (no offence to those who live in the sticks) our critical mass landed at the second and final pub. As I am lock averse – an unwritten Club rule is you should never lock a bike you aren't prepared to lose – this presented a dilemma: enter in a spirit of camaraderie, or sit outside and watch the bikes, only missing a leash to complete the picture?






I chose to share the ride organiser's hefty lock (with thanks to others for volunteering) and join the gruppo, which was eventually forced inside thanks to the practicing campanologists of Southwark Cathedral. (Or a recording, I'm no campy expert. Shame I couldn't find the actual Monty Python clip.) That I fled shortly afterwards owes nothing to the company, and everything to my pubphobia, which usually only manifests itself when inside an establishment. This is a combination of mild claustrophobia and a dislike of pub accoustics, which inevitably have me wanting to turn up my nonexistant hearing aid.

Back in deepest middle eastest Sussex the Club physician met me at the station with the car in case I wanted a lift, took one look at my still full bidon, and shook her head at my dreadful hydration routine. Alcohol is even more dehydrating, I wanted to tell her. Then I raced her home, given a head start as she got caught at the level crossing. I don't run on water: I run on good mojo.


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## anothersam (19 Jun 2015)

When the FNRttC was up and running to its best destination of Brighton, it was usually my practice to turn around at Ditchling Beacon (the top, of course) and go home, that so-called London by the sea never actually being of much interest. Thus it has finally occurred to me that it isn't obligatory to finish the Dun Run at Dunwich, which is an intriguing place what with being the location of Atlantis and all, but one I've been to many times over the years; and it's far less interesting when you have to turn around and get on the same train as 10,000 (wild guess) other cyclists.

Prompted by StuAff's now rescheduled Nur Nud, and inspired by the Dalston Dynamo manifesto ("Because Suffolk is a f**king long way away"), I have decided to tailor the event to suit my own needs, which include the occasional outing with hundreds of thousands of other cyclists, a good night ride, and London miles. I'm also partial to the chaotic critical mess at the start and that lovely dippy feeling of getting frequently lost.

All of which is to announce the next major Velosolo Club outing: the Half Dun. The plan is to celebrate Independence Day






by launching my little ship along with the great armada from the Pub On The Park, ride out approximately half way, then turn around as if unable to resist the allure of the mother ship after all and retrace the route, forsaking the tail lights' red glare to be half blinded by the night's offering of candlepower.

To fully enjoy the experience this will necesitate shooting off with the early ejectulators well before 9pm. Upon arrival back at Hackney I may pass Dalstoneers asleep underneath bus stop benches and doubtless be passed by the speedier Dun Runners.






Consider this notice served that the one way system in effect that night along the route will be suffering contraflow disruption in addition to other traffic which hasn't gotten the memo.


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## anothersam (2 Jul 2015)

Have been doing night rides, limbering up for my upcoming Half Dun ↑. Being an inzzzomniac helps.

An inzzzzzomniac, which can be spelt with as many Zs as you please, is someone who doesn't sleep as much as alive people normally do, but does sleep on occasion; and is also known to enter a zombie state an hour or two before surrendering to the id-encrusted hypothalamus. Inzzzzzzomniacs can also look frightening if you catch them in this in-between state.

Of course you can't go full zombie on these affairs, for your own safety and that of others. Sometime between now and the 4th I'll have to manage to get a really good day's sleep.


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## anothersam (6 Jul 2015)

There are some things you do thinking _Why?_ Others, _Why not?_ My ride was both.

It was a fantastic experience but a very poor showing for a Velosolo Club member. I didn't ride alone for any significant stretch. I also completely failed to fulfill my mission statement, which was to go out half way, then turn around and ride back to London, thereby avoiding giving money to a train company uninterested in cyclists (why couldn't they add a few cattle cars for bikes? We have the technology.) Call what I did instead a Double Half Dun: I rode all the way to Dunwich thinking _Why not?_ then all the way back, thinking _Why?_ Or would've done if I had any coherent thoughts besides Pedal. Keep Up. Consume energy to keep pedalling. DON'T FALL ASLEEP.

That last one was very important. As an inzzzzzzomniac, I had known how important it was to get proper rest before going one way, let alone the round trip. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. In my dreams, if I stayed asleep long enough to have any...


*This now continues at road.cc. Because as Samuel Johnson wrote, No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money. Old Sam never had to contend with the lures of a forum.*


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## anothersam (10 Jul 2015)

Cheers TMN. btw I'm not so averse to smileys as my rep makes me out to be.






Other than a very short ride to see if a mechanical issue still needed sorting (it did), I haven't been on the bike since Sunday. I did, however, clean it today (yesterday now), which involved scaring Mr Rabbit from his observation perch just off the patio.

VC members aren't sticklers for a clean bike. Who's going to notice? The problem is, _we_ do, sometimes. Every so often I'm forced to untangle the damn hose and spray it down for its own good. This after replacing the chain and cog and retiring the old ones gracefully as befits a job well done, most recently in the trenches.

I may go out in a bit. Though it's 1.20am and my bed should really be calling my name, the sun, it burns, and the night, like all nights, is made for a little spinning and a lot of freewheeling.




Went out. Not long, but god it felt good.


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## anothersam (13 Jul 2015)

Another VC joint operation gone awry; there was far too much conversation to allow for much in the way of introspection or karaoke.

It began with Southeastern Trains dropping me at London Bridge rather than the more convenient Charing Cross, which necesitated a race across town and picking my way through barriers for another race to make it to Hyde Park Corner in time. The Queen sent her finest over to see us off, then we were.






The ride was about ghost signs, those fading hoardings of paint which pallidly dot the urban landscape like so






I was also intrigued by the Arab Cargo Company Ltd. What sort of cargo is Arab cargo? Is it their version of Genco? (More & better pics of the signs starting here.)

Spent a great deal of time cyclechatting with a very nice man on a very nice looking recumbent. I say he's nice because he offered to let me ride it sometime, after first sensibly determining that I have ridden 'bents before and wasn't likely to come a cropper on any of his.

For a long while I will shamefully admit I didn't pay much attention to the ghost signs on offer, as it felt so nice just cruising (often lost - not the ride leader, me) through London and getting lost in talk. At one point my eye spied crepe fluttering in the breeze, which marked a graveyard.
















RIP Barry Mason.

We also passed "the most used street in movies set in London," according to Ross, whose quote I have surely mangled. Apparently this is where Hugh Grant got into that fight with Colin Firth in that movie about a nice young woman's diary.







View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gxOffgz6VI

@1.18 do you suppose that's what Liz Hurley wanted to do? And what's the doc from Star Trek DS9 doing there, sucking a lollipop? (On watching it again I realised he's smoking a cigarette. Why did I think that was a sweet? Oral fixation, anyone?)

We passed an old sunken road kept under lock and key to dissuade chuggers:






Seeing as LMNH was on the agenda, throughout the ride I did my best to keep hands from handlebars throughout the ride..


anothersam said:


> quite often when we hit smooth tarmac I adopted Club practice of Look mum no hands. This is difficult to pull off in a group ride without looking like a d**k. Let the record show this is my version of a Snoopy dance, and is in no way meant to demoralise those who don't enjoy good caster steering. It also soothes my occasionally troublesome back.


I'm always especially pleased when I can manage a corner without falling off, which would necessitate paying off any nearby handycamers to avoid ending up on Youtube.

At the foodstop there was a seat going spare across from one of my favourite actors, Bill Nighy. He didn't quite reach Richard Gere levels of looking like a forummer (see also previous link), but I'm almost sure it was Bill if I squinted and put a bit of cotton in my ears. Splendid bloke; along with Martin Freeman, the only way to watch all the way through Love Actually without topping yourself. The subject of marmosets came up.

About three hours into lunch I determined it was time to dash back to my wife, which was fortunate as not longer after I got home she took ill. (She's a bit better now.)

That doesn't seem like a satisfying ending to this ride report. Bill, give us a laugh:


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c2mVtSyRcA8&spf


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## anothersam (13 Feb 2017)

Club run cut short yesterday. Puncture. Filthy bike. Wimp.

I had just passed a woman I know from the road, a fellow cyclist in this land of so few except weekenders, walking down the hill I was honking up. At the summit I realised the air was abandoning my rear tyre. Only two miles home, so decided to turn around and walk it in preference to getting my hands and probably clothes dirty. Nice day for it.

Slow leak turns out to be not so slow after all. “Wait!” I want to yell to the woman now a few hundred meters ahead of me. I know approximately where she lives, hope she’ll allow my bike shelter in her garage while I hoof it back for the car. Shoulder my steed (a cowboy carrying his lame horse to the ranch?) and make an ungainly run for it. Catch her just as she’s approaching her front door.

Out of breath request follows. Quickly accepted. I half jog half walk home. Drive back, have a nice chat with Valerie, it turns out her name is. Has never owned a car lo these 70 (wild guess) years on earth. Make a mental note to slip a thank you card under her door later.

As I cross the street to my nearby car to load the bike in, I can sense that the people who apparently usually park there, having just arrived home, are radiating disapproval at the effrontery of the invasion of ‘their' space. I apologise and say I’ll be gone in a tick. Forgiveness is not forthcoming. Ah well. + Friend - enemy = nil for the day?


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## anothersam (5 Feb 2020)

Still going strong. Any new members? No, don’t tell me, I’ll hazard a guess the next time I see another of our kind making his or her solitary way over hill and dale.

Yesterday I struck up a conversation with a couple of bystanders on my regular ride up to the pyramid. (What pyramid? Scroll up.) One of them recognised me, which isn’t surprising, as I’ve been going past his house for almost 20 years now. “I like your bike,” he said. I was then obliged to tell him about this cherished collection of tubes,










_That's better_

made not far away by the boys from Enigma. “Is it fixed?” Maybe I should go fixed, I get asked that so often, but no, it’s freewheel.

We chatted about hills, pondered if electric bikes are “cheating” (our little jury ruled that it’s not)





_Officially not cheating_

and parted no longer complete strangers, which was the point. I’m sure a great many motorists aren’t best pleased to see a cyclist in front of them on the lanes. It’s good to put a face to the obstacle.

I nodded hello to the alpacas a little farther along,





_“Nice to see you, to see you nice”_

gave the impressionable youth walking home from school an unhelmeted, plugged in role model, broke the speed limit down a short reduced speed stretch of the A21 (where nobody goes 20mph, not even cyclists), waved to Peter rolling along in his powered wheelchair, and arrived home buzzing with my own electricity generated from another club run.


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## anothersam (5 Feb 2020)

Here’s one from my “people you meet at 4am” file:







I didn’t have the heart to tell him I don’t drink milk.


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## anothersam (20 Mar 2020)

I’m calling this one ‘Loveseat in the time of Corona’






PS. We seem to have a lot of new members all of a sudden.


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## raleighnut (20 Mar 2020)

anothersam said:


> I’m calling this one ‘Loveseat in the time of Corona’
> 
> View attachment 509267
> 
> ...


'Dogging' in comfort ?


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## anothersam (21 Mar 2020)

There's a fine line between thoughtful amenity for al fresco romance, and fly tipping. 

Perhaps they should rename this Lovers' Lane. Spotted some years ago:






There was also evidence of wining and dining.









_Chapeau, shopper_


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## anothersam (22 Mar 2020)

Warmed up for today’s ride by digging out the stubborn gate






which opens onto our lockdown pacing area, if down we must be locked. This is a large meadow right in front of our house normally used for photoshoots,











populated only by sheep whose cousins have kindly donated their socks,






and the occasional stag in search of a party.






Had a lovely spin out to the nearest castle.





_"It's right across the road, you can't miss it."_






This is completely closed now after the Trust threw up its hands in despair.










_The plague pit is that way, I told them_






Carried on my way after illicit dawdling. Played a game of tune association with my ipod.


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xK5YHU2-jY


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E5G2orT2sjE


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IS59-z3aE2c

Passed a couple rambling from the nearby Bruderhof community. (Think Amish who aren’t afraid to drive or run factories, in their case a toy factory. So think elves, too.)






We exchanged pleasantries from across the road. I'm unsure how to count that in @nickyboy's social interaction survey.

It struck me, not for the first time, that my bicycle is serving as my perch for the coronapocalypse.


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## EltonFrog (23 Mar 2020)

This a strange thread.


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## anothersam (23 Mar 2020)

Welcome.


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## Shadow (24 Mar 2020)

EltonFrog said:


> This a strange thread.


Ha, you should meet the members!


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## Randomnerd (24 Mar 2020)

All I want is a shirt. Are they knitted yet? Where do I send my money?


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## anothersam (25 Mar 2020)

Yesterday’s club run had a utilitarian flavour. My car needed an MOT, so I threw a bike in the boot and used the ride home to satisfy my daily allotment of exercise. Anyone who went on last year’s Hastings to the Sea ride will remember this quiet stretch heading west from Roger Daltrey’s country pile as the bit where we got hailed on.

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OhuLhcbY_08

For the trip back to retrieve the car I opted to use my folder (sticklers may count this as double rations), normally used for city miles but not likely to see much of that action for a while.








Randomnerd said:


> All I want is a shirt. Are they knitted yet? Where do I send my money?



Still vapourware. But of course, you’re free to transfer funds to the club’s numbered Swiss account to reserve yours.


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TeVlsRubPWY&t=2m25s

I’m having a rethink of the rather plain design upthread. The Fridays jersey has always struck me as rather fetching:





_Beware knockoffs_


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## Randomnerd (25 Mar 2020)

anothersam said:


> I’m having a rethink of the rather plain design upthread. The Fridays jersey has always struck me as rather fetching:


Oh. I’d banked on your first design. Never mind. Do you accept PayPal, or are you on PayNoddingAcquaintance?


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## anothersam (25 Mar 2020)

How about the barter system? I'd insert a now very tired joke about toilet paper here, but on that score, my household is good, Ocado having just today delievered 24 rolls: actually more than we'd asked for, due to a substitution (of another brand of toilet paper, in case anyone is thinking we'd ordered Dom Perignon and they were looking for something of equal value). Will get back to you as our Brexit stash diminishes.


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## anothersam (26 Mar 2020)

My latest club run was an epic ascent of the hill up to Brightling.





_Mountain rescue would prefer not to be called in to refill your bidon_

OK, not so epic; there’s _much_ worse out there.





_The Lecht, in the Grampians - turned around for the pic_

But it’s mine (I’m happy to share), and insofar as you can love a geographic feature, I'm more than a little fond of this one. It’s a pile of earth I’ve been scaling three or four or five times a week since settling here a few years after the last virus to stop the UK in its tracks.

The ‘classic’ route is King’s Hill Road. It’s of the stairstep design, unlike nearby Willingford Lane, my personal nickname for which is The Alpine Hill. I barely see the pyramid at the top anymore; on my last group outing I almost even forgot to mention it.






It was a normalish ride, except for the scattering of pedestrians using the south of Burwash as an exercise yard for the lockdown.

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-H6l6-_elF0

If there’s an upside to all this, it’s seeing people out enjoying the sun who would usually be stuck at work. No shortage of smiles and greetings, keeping well away from each other of course, this event’s unique twist on conviviality.

Why climb hills? In part, to go back down them. To celebrate the beauty of the day and the pleasure of being healthily alive I made my descent no-handed for a spell, giving nodded greetings as and when. Then it suddenly struck me what this must look like to any critics observing my ode to joy: _how irresponsible, do you want to end up in hospital?!?_

This voice inside my head had a point. It did little good to argue that I’m probably safer riding this way than you are with all hands on deck, Mr Probably-Doesn't–Like-Cyclists-Anyway-Voice: God knows I don’t want to come off, so I chose my moments carefully, gauging road condition, windspeed, and likelihood of being attacked by magpies (a tough call, as I've never tried to punch a bird in the mouth). Still, it slightly dampened my spirits, and did serve as a reminder that yes, I’d damned well better be careful.

Also, does freewheeling count as exercise, or is a citizen’s arrest in the offing?

In Burwash I stopped for a selfie,










a reminder that a) I'd decided to cancel my appointment last week, and b) collectively we’re going to be growing a lot of hair depending how long this goes on.

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hLiwzSFeDCw

Down the street Mr Kipling kept a bushy eyebrow cocked over the proceedings.





_Exceedingly nice bike_

. . .

Ride reports from other Velosolo Club members welcome.


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## anothersam (26 Mar 2020)

Randomnerd said:


> Oh. I’d banked on your first design. Never mind. Do you accept PayPal, or are you on PayNoddingAcquaintance?



On second thought, I’d be pleased to swap for one of your lovingly handcrafted utensils. A bespoke design is the least I can do.


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## anothersam (30 Mar 2020)

Cycling: the key to being free(wheelin’) in Lockdown
_Blowin' in the Wind_


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## anothersam (31 Mar 2020)

Spoiler



Contains the occasional blatant falsehood for the entirely justified goal of telling a more entertaining story.



It’s been a while since I’ve experienced the thrill of falling for a hill. This one is called Peartree Hill,






_You may have to squint_

and it passes right by my close friend* Roger Daltrey’s house. (*Who do you think this song is about? Listen carefully to the lyrics. That could be anybody.)





_"Come back mate, all is forgiven"_

Yesterday’s ride started from home, like all my rides except when we’re on holiday, and we never go on holiday. It was a modest 15-mile loop taking full advantage of Bike Privilege.



Spoiler: Check






wafter said:


> I'm no huge fan of people generally







_Us loners are like peas in a pod_



I have no problem doing the same routes over and over, because rides aren’t just exercise, they’re an engine to daydreams. They can also be a cyclist’s version of pacing when you’re worrying a problem in your head.

For whatever reason, I took a detour from the norm. Just wanted a change I guess.

Peartree is about 2 miles long, not too arduous but reasonably invigorating if you’re so inclined. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I wasn’t suffering at all. While a hill addict may miss the pain, I took it in my stride.

It undoubtedly helped that traffic was






Still, the gradient was bang on brilliant, and I knew that when I got to the top I could get my speed on for the spin home.

Partway up I spied a man by the side of the road who appeared to be throwing rocks at the other side, either out of boredom or cruelty to animals, I’ll never know. There was a motorcycle parked nearby. When I got there I felt the need to ask “Everything OK?”, even though my multitool probably wouldn’t be much help. He said “Yeah, I broke down, waiting to be picked up mate.”

I reflected on my own front tyre, baldly in need of replacement. Still thinking…





_I never done you wrong_

Roger’s was quiet when I passed.





_Inside sulking_

Had I turned left I could’ve checked to see how Robert Smith of The Cure is coping in that big white house of his.





_What do you mean Chaplin’s is closed? (Scroll up to understand this joke)_

At the playground on the edge of the village green the sound of children’s games and laughter was silenced by heavy-handed writing.





_The wind whistled desolately down the slide_

My iPod Shuffle served up Tanita Tikaram’s Yodelling Song. I didn't yodel.

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kxs4WuZB-yY

The road to Heathfield was almost lifeless. Heathfield itself is, according to garbled Facebook accounts, a zombie plague pit.





_Not zombies, just taking in the air_

Back through Burwash, the high street lined with houses far beyond my budget, I was reminded of the largesse of the landed gentry.





_Pete Townsend sent pudding but it got lost in the post_

I haven’t been thinking too much about how long this is going to last. One day at a time. While the riding is good, we otherwise struggle to comply: we all wanna live the way we like.


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LeoKCJNI-k4


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## anothersam (4 Apr 2020)

This morning’s ride was a short one, just enough to give my underappreciated Langster a taste of the roadtime it deserves and me an excuse to visit with Mr Kipling again.






I was wearing a helmet (explained in the above link - I don’t normally). As if begging this to be used as a classic example of risk compensation, I turned off my front light to truly drink in the splendid peace and quiet.

First stop was the war memorial.






Dr Dann gave me pause. Unless that was a battlefield commission, it’s pretty young to be practicing medicine. Was he practicing, say, philosophy instead? Whichever, his name is indeed living on.






Nearby is our local front line.






My usual GP is now in self isolation. My previous doc – an avid cyclist who always used to be up for a chat on the subject – was due to retire at the end of the month. I don't know if he's decided to stay on.

On the current playlist: Tom Waits in full storytelling mode.


View: https://youtu.be/iGeIusN-avE
One of my favourite lines in a song ever has got to be “and her hair spilled out like root beer.”


View: https://youtu.be/VWH9iwtl9Q4

Saw the milkman again. What a great job. Wouldn’t be surprised if it required a degree at this point.

On the way home I passed Robin’s house. He’s such an unassuming fellow you’d never know that he once suffered a heart attack and had the brass to drive himself to hospital. Not the sort of man to unnecessarily bother 999, is our Robin.

Nearby lives Mike, who thanks to the corona lull I recently discovered used to illustrate comics.






Here’s to Robin, Mike, the milk man, and you:


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## anothersam (5 Apr 2020)

From yesterday’s ride: if a guy passes you going up a hill like you’re standing still, it is not uncharitable to consider that you may not be in possession of all the facts. Fortunately he headed back down again, so I turned around and caught up with him to offer congratulations on his KOM.

“I was cheating!” he said, showing off the electric bike that made it possible for him to be out in the first place, considering that walking brace.






What a relief.


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## anothersam (9 Apr 2020)

There are metaphorical walls and there are real walls. This is a fine example of the latter, captured last night/this morning looking particularly wall-like. 





We meet again.


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## anothersam (19 Apr 2020)

Met a man walking his lurchers on my last club run.






"They’re working dogs," he told me. What sort of work do they do? "Hunt rabbits." Say it ain't so!

Passed a Celtic cross staked out in the burial grounds of St. Mary the Rumoured Virgin. 






Made a note to revisit and walk the pastoral avenues of the departed at some point when it’s not verboten.

The bluebells are out in all their glory.






Here’s a closeup of one god or his outsourced labour made earlier:






and here's a gaggle of lookalikes that look like like they lost the plot:






The neighbours greeted me with suspicion when I got home.


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## anothersam (19 Nov 2020)

The month didn’t start well.





_Not how a chainstay is supposed to work_

With my best bike out of action, and my second best long sidelined because of a maddening undiagnosed noise, it was up to the Langster, by far my cheapest bike and also by far the one that’s had the fewest problems over the years. Go figure.

My only issue with the Langster, aside from the entirely objective fact that it’s ugly, is that it’s the least stable on windy days and awful roads. After ruminating over the matter, I decided to haul out the creaky bike, an old Litespeed, and see what could be done that hadn’t been tried before.

On the cusp of the indignity of being scavenged for parts, I’d swear it looked relieved when I retrieved it from the shed: “What’s a little creaking between friends?” We don't have quite as many memories as @chriswoody and his Super Galaxy, but we have our share.





_Hold me like you used to_

Unfortunately the stem was loose, thanks to some earlier tinkering, and I couldn’t get the expander plug to work properly. What the hell was it doing with one of those anyway? The answer is lost in the mists of time. I decided to take it to the nearest shop and have them put in a star fangled nut.

This they did, at a price high enough that I resolved never to darken their doorstep again, and attacked the noise problem (which the shop wasn't interested in helping me with) by throwing a few spare parts at it. And when I took the bike out the creak was gone!

For two days. There’s nothing quite like the sinking feeling you get when you realise you’re stuck in groundhog day.

I think what’s required here is an attitude adjustment.



404 Not Found Anywhere said:


> In one of Bettina Selby’s cycling travelogues she gave up on trying to track down odd noises and decided that it was the bike singing because it was happy. From what I can recall she made some pretty impressive journeys without mishap, so I reckon she must have been right!


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## Drago (19 Nov 2020)

No solo ride today. It's chucking with rain, which alone wouldn't stop me. I have a migraine, which alone wouldn't stop me, but both together are too much. I'm about 22 miles ahead of where i'd typically be on a Thursday so don't feel too guilty.

Walking the dog this morning I got chatting to another cyclist I see about quite a lot. He was on foot for a change, told me he'd been riding a local bridleway a couple of months ago while riding solo, took a bad fall, punctured a lung and busted a collarbone. Tough as he is though, he phoned his Missus to come and rescue the bike, and only then phone Ambo to come and rescue himself.


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## chriswoody (19 Nov 2020)

anothersam said:


> The month didn’t start well.
> 
> View attachment 558900
> 
> ...



Blimey that doesn't look too good, it also doesn't look like the strongest way of attaching a dropout to a chainstay though. 

On the bright side, at least you only need a new frame, you could always build one out of Bamboo  Plenty of time over the winter with those long dark nights and Covid lockdowns.


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## anothersam (19 Nov 2020)

Drago said:


> No solo ride today. It's chucking with rain, which alone wouldn't stop me. I have a migraine, which alone wouldn't stop me, but both together are too much. I'm about 22 miles ahead of where i'd typically be on a Thursday so don't feel too guilty...



I'd like your post if I wasn't otherwise contractually bound.

The rain, I'll admit, stops me nowadays. This afternoon, after fitting a new tyre





_CC recommends_

and rolling a bit more electrical tape on the handlebars





_Somebody ran out of patience before they ran out of bar tape_

of the only bike that hasn't let me down, I checked the Met Office, Yr, the BBC, and finally the sky on the state of the weather.

View: https://youtu.be/z9KV_SG9Umo

It wasn't going to be quite that bad. Eventually it cleared again, and I was off.

The theme of the ride was "Thank god I'm not on a creaky bike today."





_Alternate theme: the wonder of gypsum_

I wonder if they dig up many fossils,






mostly because I'm reading a book about fossils. Notice those toe clips? Clearly I'm a dinosaur, myself.





_Velosaurus with a curious crest_

The mess left over from recent hedge trimming is a good test for the new tyre. 

The lanes are pretty, as always, but I miss going to London 






to play in traffic and hop from museum to museum.





_As a girl Mary Anning pressed flowers in books_






Maybe next year.



chriswoody said:


> Blimey that doesn't look too good, it also doesn't look like the strongest way of attaching a dropout to a chainstay though.
> 
> On the bright side, at least you only need a new frame, you could always build one out of Bamboo.



I'll bow to your expertise. I'm not getting a new frame out of it, but fortunately the repair is under warranty. 

What a great thread! Making a bike from scratch is beyond me, but we do make our own bread.



chriswoody said:


> Technically Bamboo is a grass and not wood.



Better keep it away from our rabbit then.

View: https://youtu.be/fh78UjL5gJI


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## anothersam (22 Nov 2020)

I guess most of us here love our bikes to one degree or another.

View: https://youtu.be/eUtF034h41Q

Yesterday I fell for my Langster all over again. It’s only "ugly", as I called it a few posts ago, in that it’s not the colour of titanium, which is my favourite colour. It’s what you might call






The skull tattoos don’t help.






The ride quality suffers by comparison with the Enigma, but that was custom built, so it’s kind of an unfair contest. It rides just fine. Certainly better than an Enigma with a crack in it.

We met in 2007 (the average age of my small stable is 14, btw) while I was in my LBS getting another one fixed. I took it for a spin to kill time and walked out with it, the price too good to resist. Actually I rode away with it on my shoulder, like a courier making a delivery. "Bloody cyclists," I’m sure a few bystanders muttered to themselves.

Not a fan of those freewheels you screw on, it didn’t take long for me to swap over to this,






which has been trouble-free. The entire bike has given me very little cause for complaint over the years: if I named them, it could fairly be called Old Faithful. It might well grouch about the bodge I was forced to make out of installing the rear mudguard (it only wears 'guards because Best Bike doesn't). Talk about ugly. But it works.






There was no clearance fore or aft, so I ended up changing the fork as well.

After a honeymoon of about four years it receded into the background thanks to a new purchase, and has spent a lot of time in the shed ever since, #3 in the pecking order. Thanks to problems at the top it recently got a promotion.

When I took it out yesterday I wasn’t convinced we’d have a great time. It was blowy, and I really missed the stability and nice long straight handlebars w/pleasing bar ends






of the Litespeed (still working on that attitude adjustment). "Come on, we can do this," I told Langster, though I wasn’t daft enough to say that out loud.

And we did. It’s great on hills, for a start; at least going up them. Steep downhills are a white knuckle affair. If I could tailor a ride that was all uphill – with a few breaks, I’m not a complete masochist – I would.






We had a splendid time together. Towards the end I had that pleasant buzz the best rides always confer. I even managed to finally get comfortable no-handed, which is my ultimate stamp of approval on a relationship.


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## anothersam (25 Nov 2020)

Taking a few days off to give my hands a rest (still need 'em most of the time), though I don't know to what extent cycling contributes to my CTS; it doesn't hurt when I ride...

_Do you do handlebars?_

View: https://youtu.be/B9a8u16hIhQ

Feeling beastly, my thoughts turned to beauty. There are some awfully pretty bikes out there, of both sexes. I don’t imagine any of mine would win a contest. Titanium, for example, is nice enough, but it isn’t the sweetest eye candy.





_We begses to differ_

You need a good paint job to properly dress up a frame.





_A work of art, or overdressed? Spotted at a long ago bike show_





_If I were a carpenter_

But paint makes me nervous, particularly exquisite custom jobs. This comment resonated,



a.twiddler said:


> If I'd spent a lot on something really blingy and up to date I'd be afraid of getting it scratched or nicked and in a way, though nice to have, for me it would take away some of the pleasure of owning it.



reminding me of how I almost fear it's going to spontaneously scratch itself, like Linda Blair with a demon itching to get out. Ti is the safer option, and satisfies a certain spare aesthetic. As would this:





_That’s quality plumbing right there_

Another post by Mr T struck me, not just because it painted a perfect little picture:



a.twiddler said:


> I had time to ponder how different male and female humans look, and how differently they move, and the nature of gender dimorphism. In some species, such as birds, males and females look very different, yet in the majority of life forms on the planet it is often hard to tell them apart. The man was quite bony and angular, his longish hair bouncing straight up and down in time with his strides. His heels also moved vertically as he ran. His companion was a bit plumper and had a pony tail which flicked from side to side, while the soles of her shoes moved in little circles. They were running almost in step. They looked like they did this regularly. The dog seemed to be enjoying itself too.



A bike doesn't have a sex unless you name it, and not always then.





_They/Them_

As for other inanimate* objects,
_"Interestingly, the German Navy refers to ships as ‘he’ as their tradition is to name ships in a masculine or magnificent manner. In popular parlance, the tradition of naming ships ‘she’ has now become less common. It's worth noting that the shipping industry newspaper, Lloyd's Register of Shipping, now calls ships ‘it’."_

*


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