Touring in your fathers footsteps with a modern twist
Every once in a while the cycle industry re-invents itself to follow fashions which come and go. Meanwhile, the ancient spirits of quality and style sit on the fence and watch, lending a helping hand to those who allow them through their doors. The recent resurgence in the hand-built British bicycle is a fashion that was once an epidemic. Almost every town had a cycle shop, with an often rudimentary building attached where a skilled craftsman would be building frames for local cyclists.
Kevin Downey joins the blog to recount his epic journey
After returning from a 59 day tour of mainland Europe, I never envisioned taking on the world on two wheels. But 13 months and 2,000 miles later, I found myself in Istanbul, Turkey far from my home in Ireland once again. With the right support behind me I continued on through 41 countries, covering 30,000 miles on bicycle, and 20,000 by boat. Relying on the kindness of strangers, I lived for two and a half years on the finer things in life, while raising over £5,000 pounds for Depaul Ireland, a charity tackling homelessness on the Emerald Isle.
The Brooks Blog welcomes Julian Wong to recount one of his adventures
In the spring of 2013 I set off from California carrying my father’s ashes to his hometown in China. By the end of the year I had cycled across the United States, flown to Norway from Florida and cycled Scandinavia, the Baltics, Central Europe and most of the Balkans. It was early 2014 when I decided to escape the winter doldrums of Europe and fly to the warm and exotic land of Egypt.
Guest Blogger Bike Snob NYC's Day-After-New-Year's-Day Ride
It is traditional for cyclists to partake in a New Year’s Day ride, which is precisely why I leave the roads to the wobbly legions making good on their resolutions and sweating out their hangovers.
Instead, I skip the ride and take a walk on the beach, where I ask mighty Neptune to provide me with a sign of what to expect in the coming year. Last year his portent came in the form of hot dogs, while this year he presented me with this disembodied fish head.
A unique bicycle visits the B1866 London Store.
Across England, are towns and regions which are well known for manufacturing certain types of products and only a short cycle ride from the Brooks Smethwick works for instance, is the famous Birmingham Jewellery Quarter. If you need a sharp fitting suit, then London’s Savile Row is the place to go and for those who attended L’Eroica Britannia last June; will know that Bakewell is remembered for its tarts. Stopping right there, before I get into trouble. I’ll take you back to Savile Row, and while trying not to get confused with tarts and tailor’s, I shall tell you more.
Brooks Sponsored Angus Edmond Reports Back on CX in the UK
My trip to England for the UCI Cyclocross World Cup in Milton Keynes, started with me leaving my keys at work (a 15km bike ride each way). But this was ok, because I had a little time up my sleeve and everything was packed and ready to roll. The second hitch came when I took a second look at my boarding pass, and realised I needed to be at the airport 40 minutes earlier than I had thought. This brought on a bout of nausea and caused my hands to shake. To cap it off the airport bus too was late and this was one flight I did not want to miss.
Guest Blogger Bike Snob NYC Confronts His Demons
In the world of cycling, conventional wisdom states:
1) There’s no mountain biking in New York City;
2) Brooks saddles have no place on mountain bikes and only belong on twee touring cycles ridden by people who dress like they’re heading out to hunt pheasant;
3) If velocity is defined as the rate of change of position with respect to time, i.e. v = dx/dt, where v is velocity and x is the displacement vector, then there is a 100% chance that the triathlete will crash.
Introducing our Sponsored Rider Angus Edmond
I have ridden bikes all my life, but it didn’t really become an obsession until I moved to Copenhagen from New Zealand. There are no mountains to climb, no rivers to paddle, so I had to figure out what it was that I could do here. Biking became it.
From deep in the gloom of November, Jack Thurston looks back over the year's most memorable rides
If there’s a month for armchair cycling it’s November. Emily Dickinson described it as ‘the Norway of the year’, which is a bit hard on Norway. November really is the gloomiest month. Dreary skies above, mud below – and not much in between. As an embalmer removes the blood from a corpse, the landscape is drained of its autumn colour. Spring seems inconceivable and we’ve not yet reached the frost-spangled glamour of midwinter. November promises little and delivers less. Even professional bike racers – men and women whose job it is to ride their bikes – take the month off.