As you can tell by this introduction I’ve lost all motivation for blogging about mountain bikes (it lasted 3 months). However, I made a morally binding contract with my inner self and I have too much time on my hands so I’ll continue, just void of creativity or passion.
Oh glorious days of March. Thy flew by so quickly on the clandestine winds of change. Were it not for my themed calendar I would have all but forgotten you.
I haven’t assaulted the clean white blog pages with my word weapons for a while now. This will be my attempt to recount the mountain bike activities that happened in the recent past. I’m pretty sure I haven’t been on a memorable ride since August last year so It may be difficult to recall the exact details. Therefore, I’ll post up a few pictures and make wild speculation about their context.
It’s long been a March tradition of mine to head on out the curly bar bike, make the smooth tarmac roads purr then slash my tires in a bush and take the bus home. It helps me remember how fickle and temporary any sensation of pleasure is. It also gives me an excuse admire the multi tonal linoleum artistry that is the Radcliffe Mainline bus floor. It is definitely not a picture of me catching the bus back home from a road ride because I decided not to take a pump out with me and got a puncture. It’s not that.
It’s not really fair to call this a ride. It was more of a pootle through the park so I could stretch Harry the stone Chinese Lion’s leg’s. He got all giddy in this photo and tried to jump on board. Stupid stone behemoth.
A steady spin around the local bouncy bike trails. This one is self explanatory. It’s me being narcissistic and thinking I’m fast. I was probably exaggerating my pose too so it looked like I was well pro.
This moody photo snap tells a tale roughly equating to a thousand words (approx 4,500 letters). It’s a thought provoking smack in the face with a green, grey and blue imagination bat. Where does the road lead too? How many stones are in that wall? What drink is in that cheap unbranded sport bottle on the bicycle? I think It took me 3 hours to set this photo up and all of 0.7 seconds to take it. One if the greatest photographs to grace the electronic data shelves of the interweb.
If I remember correctly, this photo captures the exact moment I realised my skills on a bicycle were being noticed. I’d just relieved myself* in the bushes and was about to descend on to the once industrial heartland of South Yorkshire.
*Just to clarify, by ‘relieved myself’ I mean I had completed all of my life goals and was relieved of the pressures of social expectations, I wasn’t having a wazz.
After hopping on the bike I suddenly felt the piercing stares of an on looker. I looked around to see who this peeking Pervis might be. That’s when I saw Hans Rey looking out of a high rise building in my direction (seen in the middle distance of the city scape). He mimed one word “Bravo Adam”.
The admiration from afar marked the end of the collection of 31 days I like to call March. I feel pretty confident that the above has fully recounted the bicycle related events of the month with 100% factual accuracy. Hang in there ducks of April, your time will come soon.