Viva Le Tour

We sat up until 2am this morning cheering as Cadel Evans tried hard but fell just short in the final time trial of the Tour de France. A shame, but I think with his effort Contador showed himself to be a worthy champion. It must be tough for Cadel being 23 seconds down with one day to go, knowing it's unlikely he's going to be able to make it up. Still, 2nd in the Tour de France isn't bad - the best result ever for an Australian.

Of course there are some true champions in France at the moment getting ready for a real test of a rider's character. Bring on the PBP!

Inspired by both I finally got my Round the Bay in a Day entry in. I've entered to 250km Legends Ride. As usual, I'm too late to get the 'free' jersey, which really gives me the shits. The entry fee is $125. The event is not until October 21, you'd think they could make the jerseys available for a little longer. Either that or drop the price for people who aren't getting a jersey. It's not as if you get much for the money except the the right to ride on public roads, a woeful cut lunch and a ferry trip across the heads. If it wasn't for the fact I had a few mates riding and I want to enjoy a day out with them, I wouldn't bother. Yet another reason I don't join Bicycle Victoria.

My first post in 20 days, sadly it reflects the amount of riding I've been doing. The excuses end when the alarm goes of at 7am tomorrow. I've found the showers at work, organised a locker and the bike is ready to go.

3,544km so far this year.

Riding the web.

It's still quite cold outside and I've just started a new job, so the only riding I'm doing is 2km each way from the car to the office morning and night on the single speed. It's great fun zooming down the long downhill that is Macquarie Street in Hobart in my suit, darting in and out of the peak hour traffic enjoying the odd looks I get. Less fun is the uphill ride back to the car with the 42X18. Mrs Surly and I managed to sneak in a ride to Huonville today so I've racked up a mighty 50km for the week. This week will be better!

Cold weather means more time surfing the web than riding. Someone recommended Dave Moulton's site, which has turned out to be both entertaining and informative. His ten commandments for road riding are solid gold. Number nine made me laugh:

• The meek shall inherit the earth. Blingy equipment that is lighter than an anorexic butterfly, will not substitute for miles in your legs.

So true. I've also been jealously enjoying the blogs by bikejournal buddy Amy and Mike as they prepare for the Paris Brest Paris. Next time I will be there, I promise.

In other news, husky65 has has passed me on bikejournal.com after threatening for a while. Well done. And, somewhat surprisingly this, is my 100th post. I hope writing for a living isn't going to reduce my zeal. Not so sure I like the look of bikeradar, who've taken over bikley though.

Photo top left shows me aged about 19 with some mates who used to race together in a team we called 'The Bumblebees'. I'm on the bike, front right.

3,343km so far this year.

Tips for idiots.

I rolled out this morning for a lazy 70km ride, hoping to make up on some of the distance I've missed out during the week due to weather and laziness. Also, there's a few folk I know on about the same mileage for the year to date and I thought it sensible to put a little bit of distance between us - purely to help keep them motivated of course.

I had a terrific ride down through Huonville and along the river to Franklin before turning around and heading back up the Huon Highway to Kev's place for a short visit before heading home. The bike felt good, I felt good, the rain held off and I was making good time without pushing it too hard. Even the dreaded STI gears were working fine. I was reflecting on this blissful state when some fool leaned out the window of a passing car and screamed something at me. It sounded a bit like this:

"Fugamuganugamugaheyooha!"

Although I admit I may be misquoting the bloke. I've had my fair share of random idiots yell stuff at me out car windows before. It's always alarming and I can never understand what it is they're saying. What if it's the secret to a long and fruitful life? I've never done this sort of thing, but there's two golden rules I'd set down for people engaging in this sort of behaviour:

1. Make sure you're driving a fairly nondescript car.
2. Make sure the driver isn't going to stop for petrol in the next town.

This guy messed up on both counts. I spotted the white early model ute with one large and one small trail bike in the back pulled up at the BP in Huonville. Sweet. I rolled up to the passenger side and in my best non-confrontational voice asked to the late-teen passenger:

"What was it you yelled at me back there? You were going quite fast and I had a bit of trouble hearing you."

He mumbled something, his eyes downcast.

"Can you please not do that? I'm tired of people yelling and throwing things at me from moving cars. It's very immature."

He protested he didn't throw anything.

And so we went our separate ways. As I rolled out of the service station another motorist who'd watched the exchange gave me a big grin. As for our young idiot? I honestly don't know if he's now more or less likely to do it again.

The irony is that almost without exception the drivers of Tasmania are the most courteous I've ever encountered. Except the truck drivers of course - but I understand that the road is their workplace and that their need to get to where they're going quickly is far more important than my right to be alive.

3,290km so far this year.

They have a name for people like me.

Apparently I'm a retrogrouch. Fine. This isn't necessarily a bad thing according to some random guy on the internet:

The label "retrogrouch," is now applied, inappropriately, to individuals that object to changes that are resulting in poorer, not better, products. Invariably, these changes have been adopted by the bicycle manufacturing industry in order to lower costs, not to improve the product.

See? I love the internet, there's always someone out there who shares your fetishes.

I took the racer out for a quick 50km today to remind myself how sweet an old bike can be. Also, I'm in training for the Winter Challenge, a multisport event held near here in a month. It's a race: a 10km run (!!), 18km mountain bike ride, 38km road cycle and a 12km flat water kayak paddle. Here's some late-breaking news: I probably won't win, but I might just be able to finish. I need a ridiculous goal like this but it's been a long time since I did any running. Running training starts tomorrow on the grass down at the oval.

3,218km so far this year.

STI? Isn't that some kind of infection?

There's one saving grace that comes with Tasmanian winters and it's one of the reasons I chose to live here: the fine winter day. Once in a while the skies clear and the sun shines and mother nature turns a crisp clear winter's day that's just perfect. Today was one of those days so I go up early, had a big breakfast and did a few miles on the trusty Surly.

A few hours in the saddle is a good time to ponder things and a skipping gear got me thinking: who the hell asked for STI gears? It's been bothering me for a while. Is the act of changing gears really that difficult that we need the marginal help offered by indexing. I seem to remember friction shifting was pretty reliable and reasonably foolproof.

Now I'm willing to admit it does have some slight redeeming features, but somehow we've all accepted a technology that's more complex, heavier and less reliable. You have to use both hands to shift, there's no way of trimming a noisy derailleur and you can downshift only one gear at a time. Were friction shifters really that bad? I don't remember anyone complaining about them at the time. Maybe my STI levers are getting old, but lately my gears always seems to be going out of adjustment. I think I'll go back to a set of the old downtube friction levers.

Downtube levers would solve a few problems I've been having. I'm mounted a very nice retro Brooks saddle bag on my front rack, where it stands clear of the handlebars (which I much prefer). It's a handy place for a raincoat, wallet, keys et cetera instead of my back pockets. But the bag, like all handlebar bags, gets in the way of the STI gear cables. I've got some bids in on ebay on some retro old friction levers and brake levers which only act as brake levers so I might see if that's any better. They certainly give the front end of the bike a much cleaner look, without cables sticking out everywhere. I wonder if I'll ever stop tinkering with this bike?

3,167km so far this year.

In the wind and the rain

Tassie's a lot different to Victoria, in almost every respect. It's a lot hillier and a lot colder. There are no facilities for cyclists and lots of huge logging trucks. There doesn't seem to be as as many riders, but those I have met seem fairly determined types. You have to be.

I've managed to do a few rides, mostly on the mountain bike because where we live the roads are all pretty poor quality dirt.

I hooked up with a group of local riders on Tuesday night for a few laps of the old bike track around the oval at Franklin. Nobody's used the bike track much in the last 20 years, so it's somewhat overgrown with thick grass, which means everyone rides mountain bikes. It's dark at 6.30pm, so were all had lights on. And, as a bonus, it was about three degrees and raining. And so the fun began.

Around the track we raced at top speed, dodging the thicker clumps of grass as they loomed up out of the shadows. There was no prospect of holding your line, or even of maintaining a constant speed as you battled through the tougher bits.

And how we went! Everyone simply put it in the top ring and went grinding. The rain streamed down and with the windchill I'm sure it was minus something degrees. I was good for about 5km before a little voice inside my head said "This is madness" and I jumped in the car and returned to the safety of my mountain lair. They breed them tough down here.

Photo at top left is my first real bike: a full Campagnolo Vitus Duralinox circa 1983. How that bike could fly.

3,029km so far this year.

Sneaky Steve in the shadows

I've been slack with my blogging: I have escaped the mainland, and I'm having a holiday and it's somewhat cold down here!

Sneaky Steve managed to give me one last big laugh before I left though. The mob I've been riding with: the Lancefield Lycra Louts, also known as the Lancefield Lairs, turned out for a ride on the last Sunday I was in Melbourne to see me off. Amid the usual trash talking, sudden hill sprints and mug lair riding, Steve decided tried something very special.

We were about 40km in when Steve took off like a rocket. He went past Ken and I at a rate of knots. I was just able to catch up and hold his wheel for a few seconds before deciding to let him go, or running out of puff, I forget which.

We knew he was up to something. The question was what? As we neared Lancefield, the anticipation was mounting. My bet was that he'd commandeered a fire hose and was going to give us all a spray. The tension was unbearable. But nothing happened.

A few minutes later Steve called Andy on his mobile phone. It turns out that Steve had been hiding up a driveway en-route and was planning to give us all a big surprise. His hiding place was so good that not only did we not see him, but he didn't see us. Steve slunk into town ten minutes later amid much laughter.

I've really enjoyed riding with the Lancefield mob, I've had more fun with them in the last few months than I can remember having on a bike before. Every time I go for a ride, I think of them. I'm hoping for a lot more rides and a lot more laughs together in the future. Until we ride together again guys, I'll miss you all.

2,971km so far this year.

Fun in the mud and rain

The principles behind the Cyclic Navigator are very simple. You jump on your bike with a map and compass and have five hours to pick up as many of the marked controls as possible. Sound simple?

I had a great time and only make two mistakes all day. The first was turning right when I should have turned left. Suddenly I found myself on a long, fast, downhill run which ended at a dam which was in exactly the opposite direction to where I wanted to be. My second mistake was not doubling back to where I went wrong and sticking to my plan. In my cleverness I tried to make up a new plan on the spot and that's where is all turned to custard. It seems it's hard to make good decisions when your wet and cold and tired. Who knew?

Hindsight is a wonderful thing and I had the benefit of hindsight's full measure as I sat in the bath with the map and a beer last night, trying to soak off the mud. Of the piddling 170 points I managed to score - 150 of them were in the first three hours and only 20 after that. Obviously I need some more practice at mountain bike orienteering. (I see there's a MTB-O event down in Tassie not long after I get there.) And well done to Andy, Glo and Ken, who put in a stunning effort with 380 points. Steve was a bit sad he couldn't ride yesterday. He was a lot less sad when I told him how much fun he would have had if he'd ridden with me!

On the bright side, the new bike is a joy to ride. There was mud - lots of mud - rain, dirt roads and singletrack and the bike was fantastic all day. Even the saddle was comfortable. Despite not going all that well, I really had a great time. Honest. Less fun is cleaning all the mud off everything.

The photo at the top left is me competing in the 2DayFM triathlon about 22 years ago. I still ride the same bike, although it's red these days. I've been going through some old photos and found a few old cycling shots.

2,793km so far this year.

New toy

I decided to buy a proper mountain bike. I'm in the Cyclic Navigator on Sunday and I had some extra money and I'm moving to the wilds of Tassie, so I decided to treat myself.

It's a Specialized Stumpjumper FSR Comp from a mob called Total Rush in Melbourne. I didn't get a chance to ride after being fitted to the bike and taking it away yesterday, but was able to go out for a fang before work this morning.

I was a bit the worse for wear after four of us held what we described to our boss in Sydney as an 'offsite senior staff meeting" yesterday. Non-journalists would probably describe it as a 12 hour two-fisted piss up. I was in no fit state to ride the bike when I staggered out of the pub at midnight, but I somehow bounced back and hit the dirt trails along the Yarra early this morning. I really had a great time getting used to the suspension and the big fat tyres, riding up and down trails that would normally have me baulking.

I have five weeks off from next Friday. I leave Mebourne the following Monday. I'm really looking forward to testing this bike out on the forestry trails of Southern Tassie. And giving up drinking!

The Grey Lady gets on her bike

A wise person, whose name I can't be bothered Googling once said "There is nothing so powerful as an idea whose time has come". The New York Times seems to have taken a sudden interest in bicycles with two pretty good articles in a bit over a week.

First, someone called Jocko Weyland waxes lyrical about the rise of the fixed gear bike. Then there's today's piece on the growing popularity electric assisted bicycles. Both articles are interesting and overwhelmingly positive discussions of two quite different aspects of cycling. Good press! Enjoy it while it lasts.

But did he get some miles in?

Like most right-minded people I regard exercise bikes - along with treadmills - as signs of latent deviency. As usual, it turns out that I'm right. Full points to the bloke for quick thinking though:

JOHANNESBURG (Reuters) - A gang stripped a South African man before supergluing him to an exercise bicycle while they ransacked his house, according to a report Thursday.

SAPA news agency said the attackers, dressed in suits, hijacked a man in his 50s and forced him at gunpoint to take them to his home in Johannesburg.

"The victim was then forced to strip, after which he was superglued to the seat of an exercise bicycle, his hands were superglued, as were his feet and then his mouth was superglued shut," SAPA quoted Mark Stokoe, a spokesman for emergency services Netcare 911, as saying.

The man was rescued about three hours later when his partner arrived home, SAPA said.

Now I'm no detective, but it sounds to me like his girlfriend got home early and he had to reach for the old "Bad Men Broke In, Made Me Do This At Gunpoint, Then Ran Away Leaving No Trace Except A Very Rude Movie In The DVD Player" excuse. We've all used that one before. I'll bet they made him get drunk too. As an excuse it's versatile and so very plausible, but you can only use it the once.

2,725km so far this year.

The bikes of the future

I stumbled across this 1954 British Cycling magazine article (pdf 4.6mb) while cruising the web the other day - a look forward half a century to the bicycles of the year 2000.

It's a fascinating read. In some areas the guesses are spot-on: between them they've predicted disk brakes, twist-grip gears, aluminium and carbon frames, eight speed gears, the demise of the cottered crank and the dual suspension mountain bike, years before they became a reality. In other areas they're way off: the adoption of shaft drives and constantly variable gearing remains a dream; we haven't standardised around 24 inch wheels and bad drivers, bad roads and punctures remain a constant.

My favourite prediction was the super-metal for frame building to come from atomic power research. Putting together a few of the more radical ideas would make a cracking ride - but sadly none of the major manufacturers seem to have come up with a gyroscopically-controlled uranium-framed recumbent! Maybe next year.

2,651km so far this year.

A once in a lifetime ride.

Well, we did it. The mighty Lancefield Lairs managed complete the Fleche Opperman All Day Trial to cover 360km in 24 hours. Legends one and all. Shrugging off sunshine and rain, hunger and thirst, six flat tyres, headwinds, darkness and fatigue and despite only 30 minutes sleep, we rolled into Rochester tired but triumphant. Sadly one of our five had to drop out around the 280km mark.

As expected, the night time riding was the hardest. It wasn't too bad at first, but as it cooled down and tiredness set in, the intermittent rain reminded me that I have been meaning to buy a decent rain jacket. My most vivid memory is spending a couple of hours staring into the into the glow of my headlight, dodging the spray from Steve's back wheel as he dragged me half asleep towards Echuca just before sunrise. We knew we weren't going to get much of a rest - but the short lie down was eagerly anticipated and proved to be remarkably refreshing.

After our short sleep we were back on our bikes for the 'easy' roll down the highway with the wind at our backs. We had two hours to cover 25km. But traffic was heavy and we suffered a couple of punctures as we rode on the rough shoulder of the highway. Then we stopped to help another team which had suffered a puncture. And another. And another. Twenty minutes before the 9am cutoff we were still short of Rochester, but unsure of how exactly far from the finishing line. Top chainrings were engaged and with tired legs we cranked our a few hard and fast kilometres to finish with 10 minutes to spare.

Despite the difficulty, it was a most enjoyable outing. I didn't have a puncture or a single mechanical niggle. After many hours in the saddle a ride like this becomes a form of meditation, the bike, the weather, the aches- even the goal - all just fade into the background and the only thing left is a the moment.

All thanks to Andy for coming up with a great route, for doing all the organising and for handling all the paperwork. And big thanks to the mighty Ken for supporting us tirelessly every 60km along the way with a hot meal and a nothing's too much trouble smile. Andy, Steve, Ted and Barry - it was great riding with you, a truly memorable experience which I will remember forever.

Above is the traditional finishers photo in front of the Oppy statue in Rochester.

2,651km so far this year.

Sanity in gearing

I'm back in the saddle again, happily. I've managed to churn out 160km since whining about being slack on Saturday. The extra miles have me feeling good on the bike and have really boosted my confidence for this weekend's trial. I've finally fallen in with a bunch of local riders of about my speed, ability and shockingly casual attitude, which is ironic because I'm leaving town in four weeks. Hopefully there will be a similar mob in Hobart.

Spending more time in the saddle watching the scenery go by has me pondering a few things. Why is the cable routing on Shimano SPD drop bar shifters so inelegant? Couldn't they have run the cables along the handlebars like Campagnolo do instead of leaving them hanging out in the wind? Would I be happier with down tube friction shifters just to make thing prettier? The big issues clearly occupy my mind.

Anyway, I'm working on a cunning plan to upgrade my crankset so I can use the old gear to build up a road bike for Mrs Surly Dave. (She gets a road bike, I get a new crankset, we're all winners). Being someone to completely over-analyse everything, I've hit the spreadsheets. I ride at an average speed between 19km/h and 23km/h. Now and again with a tailwind I'll nudge towards 30km/h. Up hills I'm slower - 10 to 15km/h depending on the hill. So I need gears which help me ride in that range.

OK, so here's where things get technical. I generally pedal with a cadence between 70 and 90 revolutions per minute. Let's call it 80 for the sake of the argument. My gearing ranges from 109 inches down to 29, or to put it another way, I travel between of 9.2m to 2.3m per pedal revolution. With a 52/39/30 triple crankset and a 12-27 cluster, my bike is set up to propel me at speeds of between 13km/h and 50km/h. The trouble is, I seldom go this fast. I very, very rarely use my top chainring. (The yellow highlights on the gear chart below show the gears would use at normal speeds, some are duplicates. Click to make big).

It works out that about eight of the gears on my 30-speed are never used except for when I'm in a hurry on long downhill. This is, of course, not counting the duplicates and the gears which can't be used because of chainline issues. Being charitable, that takes out another 12 combinations. So on a 30 speed bike, I've got about ten useful gears.

So it turns out that getting whole bunch more gears doesn't deliver anything more for the average cyclist except added weight and complexity. Wow, big surprise!

But assuming for a moment I'm a typical, or even sane, cyclist who seldom exceeds 30km/what would be the ideal setup for me? (I don't want to get rid of the lower gears, they come in handy for getting up hills.) It turns out to be 44/32 front chainrings with a 12-27 ten speed rear cluster. That gives me 92 down to 29 gear inches and an effective speed range of between 40km/h and 12/km/h at 80 rpm. I'd guess that such a setup would cover just about every casual and recreational cyclist in the world except those lucky few who have a downhill commute with a tailwind home.

But do you reckon you can buy such a setup? No way. Not even in the compact double cranksets so popular of late. Why not? Presumably because when you ride the Tour De France, you need a 53 tooth front chainring to give you a huge 120-something inch top gear to charge down mountain passes and in the sprints. It's madness, madness I say.

2,296km so far this year.

The lazy days of winter

It's raining today. It hasn't rained for ages, so it came as a bit of a surprise. The unfamiliar sound of raindrops on the roof helped me make up my mind not to do that 60km I'd promised myself I'd do today. It's an indoor day instead.

It's not like I'm looking too hard for an excuse. April has been a very slack month for me. We're 20 days in and I've ridden three times for a total of 175km. It's a poor effort, my worst month to date in nearly two years. I've fallen out of the habit of commuting to work. I thought it had only been a few weeks but it's been six. The year started well with a 760km month, followed by 630km and then 550km. That's a graph heading in the wrong direction! I've fallen from 217th out of 5,020 riders on bikejournal.com to 625th. and I'm about 900km behind my target mileage to reach 10,000km by December 31 and 1,200km behind the guy currently in 217th on bikejournal. Not sure what happened to being keen to see winter.

The rot started when I took a few days off after the MAD ride on April 1 to recover from a sore achilles tendon in my right leg. Then at Easter I had a writing assignment. Then a trip to Sydney. I'm not sure what excuse I had this week - laziness I suspect. Hopefully it's just a passing phase of poor motivation. I winterised the bike this morning, putting the lights back on and fitted mudguards. It's time to try a little harder.

24 hours of fun

I've signed up for a team to take part on the "Oppy", also known as the Fleche Opperman All Day Trial. The idea is for teams of four to six cyclists to cover the greatest distance possible in 24 hours, finishing up in the birthplace of famed endurance cyclist Hubert Opperman in Rochester, Victoria.

It seems like a fun challenge, although I understand some people may have a different definition of fun to me. The team I'm in has submitted its route and we're aiming to cover 350km, starting in Lancefield. It will be the longest ride I've ever attempted but I'm confident we can do it.

I happened across information on previous events. Each year an award - the Opperman Shield - is given to the team which covers the greatest distance. The best-ever result for the event is 770km in 1993. 770km! That's a non-stop average of 32km/h. I couldn't do that downhill with a tailwind. What a great achievement, how very humbling. Rochester here we come.

The cyclist's birthday

It's my birthday this week and I've managed to pretty much clear out my wish list for bike-related gear.

A month or so I bought a few back issues of the wonderful Bicycle Quarterly magazine which I really enjoyed, so I dropped a few pointed hints that their book: The Golden Age of Handbuilt Bicycles would be appreciated. Mrs Surly Dave has ordered a copy and I'm camped by the mailbox until it arrives.

I had a little unexpected cash windfall this week, so to make the waiting more tolerable I bought myself a few presents including a new floor pump, a long-coveted Nitto M12 mini front rack and some mudguards for winter, which is supposedly upon us soon despite the lovely warm weather we've been having.

Along the way, I've been mulling over some things I saw during the recent Melbourne Autumn Daytour. It was a lovely day and because I'm now a lot fitter and riding a better bike, I tend to ride much further up in the field rather than down the back with the strugglers and the stragglers. It was obvious that a lot of roadies were treating the ride as either a) a race, which it is not or b) a high speed group training ride. As they came past me I caught onto the back of the odd bunch to enjoy a high-speed tow along in their draft for a while before dropping off to continue at my own pace.

I tried striking up a conversation with several riders in the bunches, but managed to get only grunts in return. It might have been because I was riding a touring bike with cantilever brakes and a rear rack. I wasn't too surprised they weren't too friendly because I've long observed that the more expensive the bike the less likely you are to get a wave, a smile or a nod. I've been working up to this rant for a while:

• The fact you've spend untold thousands on a bike and covered yourself in the logos of a professional team doesn't make you a better cyclist, although sometimes it does go a long way towards making you look like a wanker.
• There's nothing clever or special or tough about riding up and down Beach Road in a big bunch. It's flat and you're getting pulled along by others. You're not impressing anyone. Get over yourself.
• Save your racing for races. I suspect many of you are just wannabes. Ride for fun, not to satisfy some sort of competitive urge. You might even crack a smile occasionally.
• You are very visible to the motoring public, so obey the road rules. You're giving the rest of us a bad name.
  
• Be pleasant to other cyclists, even if they may not look as fast (or ridiculous) as you. It costs nothing and is good public relations. And you need friends like never before.

Sydney does have some attractions

I'm up in Sydney for work for a few days. Rather than fly I decided to drive so I could take my mountain bike. My mate Danny and I hit Katoomba yesterday to ride Narrowneck, which is rated one of the best mountain bike rides in the Blue Mountains.

I've done the 20-odd kilometre trip may times on foot over the years, usually with a pack on my back and I've never enjoyed it. It's a long road bash with some good views but not much else to redeem itself.

But on a bike? Wow and wow! Covering the ground more quickly means it's a fun ride and the highlights are much closer together. Around every corner is another stunning view. This ride's popularity is reputation is well deserved. A most excellent day out.

A brace of beautiful bikes.

I own five bikes. Actually, I thought I owned four bikes, but a visit to the shed surprised me. I had them all roadworthy for a while last year, but canibalised one to make up the single speed. I only corrected this last weekend when I got the road bike going once more. Easter has given me the chance to take it out for a spin.

The road bike is a mid-80s Centurion racer. From memory it's a Turbo with Tange number 1 steel tubing. They were all the rage for a while. It was my training bike until I rode my early-model Vitus aluminium frame up the back of a car. It's probably had half a dozen paint jobs, for the moment it's red. In an age where everything seems to be made of plastic, it's very old fashioned, but it's lovely to ride.

We've been out for a spin in the hot, still weather we've been enjoying the last couple of days. I'm struck inside churning out 6,000 words for a book I've been talked into because I want to spend the money on a new dual-suspension mountain bike (N+1+1+1+1 etc, how many bikes does one man need? Hey, I ride them all I tell ya!). So I've been going out for a blast each afternoon around 4.

Compared to the Surly, which I love dearly, the road bike is like a Ferrari. Despite the vintage downtube shifters and the 25-year old Campagnolo Nuovo Record gear, it's still good for two or three kilometres an hour extra on my average speed. And it just inpires me to go faster. Even with though it's as twitchy as hell its narrow handlebars and high-pressure skinny singles , I dared to ride no-hands for a short distance today. I've owned it since 1985, which seems a long time ago, but boy I love this bike.

We're heading up to Sydney for a few days this week to visit some of our old haunts and test the legs against some old climbs. I'm a bit larger these days - a man taking a stomach for a ride - but I'm looking forward to it immensely.

2,131km so far this year.

You get what you pay for - now and again.

My old cycling knicks started to fall apart so I was forced to go out and buy some new ones or face the certainty of indecent exposure charges. So I paid a visit to my least-favourite big city cycling store, because it's close to work and because I enjoy indifferent customer service.

They had two different types of bib knicks in sizes suited to the larger man. The first type I didn't even try one because they had a mesh panel at the base of the spine. Or right at top of the arse crack if you prefer. The salesman described them as a vent. Full points for trying, but I'd describe them as a window. I am not wearing shorts with a crack window. The photo to the right shows the approximate location, if not the actual panel.

I can't for the life of me see why a see-through mesh panel is called for at that particular spot, unless a lot more fruity exhibitionists have taken up cycling than I was aware of. And what marketing genius came up with the idea? In maybe 20 years of cycling I've never thought: "Gee, I wish there was some way of letting some of the high-pressure steam out the back of my shorts." They're lyra for christ's sake, they're 0.0001mm thick, they breathe pretty well.

Anyway, the other pair were nice, and fitted well and despite having lots of writing on them (which I hate), they seemed quite comfortable. The only drawback was the price tag - $180. People who know me can attest that my entire wardrobe isn't worth $180. For that sort of money I'm going to expect a pair of shorts that washes and dries themselves. But given that I had a long ride on this weekend, no shorts and no time to shop around, so the $180 shorts it was.

With high expectations I threw my leg over the bike this morning and cranked out a hilly 130km. And how do the $180 shorts feel? Let me put it this way: it's like spending the day perched in the gentle embrace of Gwyneth Paltrow's cupped hands, after she's used mosturiser (I have no idea whether she's into that sort of thing, but one can only hope.). I rode all day without the slightest hint of chafing, rubbing or pain. Now I'm wondering what the $499 pair of knicks would feel like. Could anything be 2.77 times as good as this?

2,085km so far this year.