Guest Blogger Bike Snob NYC Time-Trials Into The Past
12 May 2015 | Posted by Bike Snob NYC | Categories: Bicycles, Correspondence, Friends, Monthly highlights, Stories, Travel & Adventure Cycling, Urban Cycling
There are all sorts of reasons to go for a ride. Sometimes you want to explore, and to mark the world with your tires like your bike is a cat and the road is someone’s pant leg. Sometimes you want to challenge yourself on that big climb–or, even more pathetically, to challenge complete strangers via some social networking app like Strava. And sometimes you just wanna get naked.
Jack Thurston retraces one of the classic pass-storming routes of the inter-war years
6 May 2015 | Posted by Jack Thurston | Categories: Bicycles, Correspondence, Friends, Heritage, Stories, Travel & Adventure Cycling
The West Arms, Llanarmon Dyffryn Ceiriog
The centennial commemorations of the First World War remind us of the origins of the phrase ‘over the top’, now widely used to describe anything extreme or outrageous. The stuttering newsreel shots show young men clambering out of their trenches (‘over the top’) and walking briskly into machine gun fire, barbed wire and almost certain death. With the war not yet a year over, using such a charged phrase ‘over the top’ to describe a bike ride must have been a very deliberate act and that is exactly what Walter MacGregor Robinson did in his celebrated account of a ride across the Berwyn range in north Wales, published in Cycling in May 1919.
Juliet Chats To Award Winning Female Frame Builder Caren Hartley
30 Apr 2015 | Posted by Juliet Elliott | Categories: Art & Design, Bicycles, Correspondence, Friends, Stories
In my previous post for the Brooks blog, I chatted to photographer Camille Macmillan and new frame builder Caren Hartley about the intriguing sounding steel machine the latter was hand-crafting for the former, something the pair had nicknamed the ‘Demi-Porkeur.’
Juliet lifts the lid on a very special bespoke machine
2 Apr 2015 | Posted by Juliet Elliott | Categories: Art & Design, Bicycles, Events, Friends, Stories
I first met photographer Camille McMillan at Eroica Britannia last year, where he cut a dashing figure swaggering around in a silk scarf shooting images and taking rides on a motorbike under the Brooks England banner. I was immediately curious about him; he appeared to play by his own set of rules with no pussy-footing about. Certainly as a man, he’s intriguing and enigmatic but believe it or not, I was unaware of his serious pedigree as a photographer and cyclist.
Juliet Elliott gives you the secret to training success this cycling season
24 Feb 2015 | Posted by Juliet Elliott | Categories: Bicycles, Friends, Monthly highlights, Sports Cycling, Stories
Every year I get the urge to start racing. I have a little go, I enter the odd race, and I usually do ok. Then disaster strikes – I start training and it all goes wrong.
Guest blogger Bike Snob NYC clings to his sanity in winter
17 Feb 2015 | Posted by Bike Snob NYC | Categories: Bicycles, Correspondence, Friends, Monthly highlights, Stories
I refuse to ride inside. Spinning away on a trainer while watching TV? Please. When I ride a bike I do it outside, when I watch TV I do it on the couch with a beer.
If you’re going to do something, do it right.
Angus gives his insight to his weekend in Tábor
9 Feb 2015 | Posted by Angus Edmond | Categories: Correspondence, Events, Friends, Stories
I have mixed feelings after the Worlds. To sum it up, it just ended badly. There were some highlights in there. My manager Pieter giving me an Orval while the paramedic cleaned up my leg was one. Dinner with the boys after was good fun too. But the second half of my race went badly and the fact that I now have trouble walking has most certainly tainted my mood. The time, energy and preparation that you put into a race like this certainly increases the expectations, but of course you need to remember that everyone else in the race will be giving it 110% too.
Jack Thurston goes bike packing in a Wet, Windy Wales
29 Jan 2015 | Posted by Jack Thurston | Categories: Events, Saddles, Bags, Etc., Stories
When a track becomes a stream
With arrival of an email of a list of a couple of dozen grid references, each the location a ford across a stream or river somewhere in the hills of Mid-Wales, I knew I was in for a cold, wet January weekend. In a moment of ‘let’s blow away the cobwebs and do something different’ I’d entered myself into the Bear Bones Ford Fiesta, an overnight bikepacking event. The challenge was simple: to ride through many fords as possible and to spend a night under the stars.
Juliet Elliott's top rides of 2014
12 Jan 2015 | Posted by Juliet Elliott | Categories: Correspondence, Events, Friends, Heritage, Stories, Travel & Adventure Cycling
I must be getting old. Just like that, 2014 is over. I remember when I was a kid, the summer holidays lasted forever and Christmas always seemed an eternity away. I always hoped that those who told me ‘school days are the best of your life’ were far off the mark. Endless hours of maths, PE in sub zero temperatures wearing gym knickers and an airtex shirt; how could that be the best life had to offer? PE even made me think I wasn’t ‘sporty,’ but that’s another story for another time. Now I’m free from the horrors of netball, drinking at bus stops and GCSEs, I’m having more fun that ever and life seems to fly by. So they were wrong. I bloody knew it. School sucks and being a grown up rules.
Guest Blogger Bike Snob NYC's Day-After-New-Year's-Day Ride
5 Jan 2015 | Posted by Bike Snob NYC | Categories: Bicycles, Correspondence, Curiosities, Friends, Stories
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.