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Rapha Festive 500

Dave's 2016 Brompton Adventures

By David Hume

December 26^th, 2016

The unfolding chronicle of a week on a bike. With help from friends.

Saturday 24th December

Roger has won more races than I ever will. Today he is riding his old race bike; the ‘94 CAAD3 that he has owned from new. Full DA 7700, well used and still beautiful. He reminded me that a year ago I visited him in hospital on the day he was being discharged. I remember him showing me a lot of scars and bruises, and hoping he’d be back on the bike soon. What I like about riding with Roger is that he’s a good man, he’s safe, and he totally gets it. After two rides we were friends.

Which I guess partly explains why he and Vincent are putting up with me today – turning up at Vincent’s house at 6.30 a.m. on a Brompton. It has to be a joke. No, it has to be a gimmick. Neither of these guys is on Strava, and the Festive 500 means nothing to them, but they will cut me the slack anyway. The only question they ask is how they can help me get the kms I need for the day.

Sunday 25th December

I’ve ridden early on Christmas mornings before. On my Christmas dragster in 1972, on my first hand-built roadie in 1983. Lately not so much. So it’s nice, on a day with a forecast top of 40 degrees Celsius, to slip out just before dawn in the dark, cool air.

I wanted to ride down to the river, because I remember riding down there in the early light when I was at school. That was for rowing training. I remember the low sunlight biting into our eyes as we rowed. I stared into that early sun this morning and it was just the same.

Margot and I have hosted the Chrissy lunches for 24 years now, but who’s counting. It’s generally a bit hectic in the mornings, but at about 5.30 it gets calm again. The beach on Christmas night is usually a good bet.

Monday 26th December

It was fun going out with Tony this morning. I managed to rope him in to making some photos. Onya Tones. Talking with Tony about making the photos was fun too. This project – documenting the week – has made me interested in photography again. I wasn’t expecting that.

Coming back home through the national park I bumped in to a couple of guys on MTBs. Technically, the Brommie has rear suspension, so I guess that makes us all mountain bikers together. I asked if I could get a shot and we got chatting. Nice to meet you, Nick and Jason.

Tuesday 27th December

Today is the first day it all seems a bit hard. Somehow I’ve picked up a cold, and the rain is no longer a novelty.

No one else wants to ride today, but I like riding alone. Probably most of my useful ideas come while I’m alone on the bike. I decide to go out in search of rain on the horizon. Instead I see a crane.

This was pretty much always going to end at a railway station. But the light and the shapes of the train were fun, and not getting my full quota of kms was a bit like taking a naughty sickie from work. (Which I never did, by the way.)

Wednesday 28th December

What a strange day. Margot was keen for a ride, so we set off early to pick up Ruby, and the moist air and low clouds were quite other-worldly.

There were storms overnight, but it wasn’t until we rode into the power blackout area that it got weird. So quiet; and so many fallen trees that I stopped photographing them. Nature had nonchalantly cast her hand over what we thought a city should be, and all our machines, our paths and bridges, all our attempts at order were revealed for the trivial instruments they are. And Charlie was stung by a wasp.

Jake sent me a text, and we met by bicycle. I stacked the Brompton for the first time, and luckily Jake was right there to record the moment. he made some more photos and we all had a coffee.

I didn't mean to make any more photos, but when you're on a bike it's easy to stop for a closer look.

Thursday 29th December

Today I’m struggling to get started. I stared at my desk for half an hour. It’s always messy, but it has become worse.

I am so surprised by what I am seeing each day in my own town that I can’t keep up with it. Either the world has turned it up to 11, or I’m becoming hypersensitive.

I have been going out and experiencing and recording, and it has been great, but today just want to be in my own quiet place on a bike. My oldest friend lives in the hills, so I think it would be fun to go and see what’s happening in his shed.

As part of the ride, I have been trying, in a small way, to help some children in Nepal with a bit of fundraising, and I have felt conflicted about doing it. If there’s a benefit to any children in Nepal that’s certainly a good thing, but in a way it’s actually quite selfish, because I am using them to motivate me. This is because I figured there would come a time when things seemed difficult, and at that point reflecting on my own position of first-world privilege would put any puny troubles I may have in to perspective, and make it easier for me to go on. That moment came today when I decided to push/carry the Brompton up some dirt switchbacks to avoid a main road. Of course the path was blocked by a fallen tree, and the only option was to haul it up a sheer muddy bit. I thought of going back, but the words, “get over yourself, you fat prick,” formed in my mind, and up I went.

Once up past that, things seemed easier. I love it when people give the sign-animals eyes; it seems such a kind thing to do for them, and that cheered me up. In the park I bumped in to Jen and Hoppy, who in turn had bumped in to each other. Jen captured the moment.

My dear friend Olsen was without a shed for many years, and it just may be that he’s making up for lost time. He knows how to weld, and he first made a workbench, then made a welding table, so he could then make a smoker-oven (now under construction). Today he bought a chainsaw to cut up all the fallen boughs that the storm brought down into his yard.

Friday 30th December

There’s a metaphor cunningly concealed in the photo below – see if you can work out what it is…

I felt like I could finish it today. Still coughing a bit, and the legs were slightly cooked, but I thought a flattish route would be fine. By my reckoning I needed about 130km, and at my desk I came up with a really good pun – if you do 100km on a Brompton it’s a Bromp TON. (Ton. 100. Ah, comedy gold.) So riding down the veloway I was richly amused. If you’re going to repeat dumb things out loud to yourself, or sing the same one line from a song for three hours straight, alone on a bike is a good place to do it.

Briony and Tony had caught the train, with the idea that I would meet them at the end of the line and we could continue from there. I was already crunching the numbers on routes, wind, and the chances I had of putting in a big day. Wind was the factor. The forecast said 30kph all day, and the Brompton is great for many things, but sustained riding into headwinds is not high on the list. Clearly Brian and Tones were up for the challenge, well stocked with homemade panforte and rocking the #sockgame.

Of all the riders I saw during the week, I think Chloe had the most panache. Her kit had an effortless style, and her bike handling skills were bang on for a six-year-old with a week’s training.

Pondering matters such as this, the long day passed. Brian and Tones headed home, and I spun down to the beach then up into the foothills for the final kms. A beer en route cured a spot of cramping, as it usually does, and I rolled home pretty well pleased with the day. Job done.

I had a lot of fun, and I had a LOT of help. My most sincere thanks to everyone.

This week I learned how important riding is to me. I challenged myself physically, and I challenged myself to tell a story with the best images and the truest words I could create. By immersing myself in a familiar town I saw it in a new way, and learned that wherever you are, there is always something to discover. I gained confidence and a desire to tackle new challenges. I learned you can look silly without the world ending.

The biggest lesson I learned is how lucky we are to ride bikes for pleasure. Anyone who is able to cycle, in good health and in peace, just for the joy of it, is truly privileged. We should be aware of that privilege, and be grateful for it, every time we get on a bike.

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Footnotes

Cover photo: Issie Hume. Thanks for additional photos: Tony Clark A.S.C., Jake Thomas, Margot Masters, Jenny Hall. Brompton folding bike loaned to me by Treadly Bike Hire.

Button Label

FootNotes

Cover photo: Issie Hume. Thanks for additional photos: Tony Clark A.S.C., Jake Thomas, Margot Masters, Jenny Hall. Brompton folding bike loaned to me by Treadly Bike Hire.

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