In the past I’ve had bikes stolen. One time I was beaten up for my bike whilst I was riding around a park. Through my own naivety I trusted the young lad who was clearly not interested in the time by stoping my bike close to him, looking down at my watch to tell him the time, and instead of receiving the time I received a punch to the face. Stunned, I struggled for a bit whilst I received my punches to the face before I saw my pride and joy being ridden away. It was my first ‘proper’ mountain bike. I’d worked paper rounds morning and night for well over a year to fund it.

As an extra we (mostly my parents) had to fight with the insurance company because “the bicycle was not locked at the time”. Go figure… I wonder if insurance companies have done any research into why most people feel nothing but utter contempt for them. How can you purchase a service and when you call on that service it is still in the hands of the insurance company to decide if they will honour the service you’ve been paying for. Notwithstanding insurance fraud generated by the customer, surely it is insurance fraud generated by the insurance company.

The 2nd time my bike was locked inside my garage. Then it wasn’t.

The 3rd time my bike was locked inside my garage to the wall. Then it wasn’t. Luckily this third time I was about to move out and the £700 insurance money came it mighty handy for that summer-of-fun. Plus I was riding around on my BMX at the time, yes that one.

But whatever the insurance company decides to do you can rest assured that the thief will have their comeuppance. Danté affirms it.

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…according to Dante, between the grafters and the gamblers, there is a circle of the inferno reserved just for people who steal bicycles.

The full details of which can be obtained through nicomachus.net. There’s also a link there to the original manuscript by Phillip Barron published in Urban Velo, Issue 8.

Still, a bit of this life revenge might be on your agenda and I stumbled upon a suitable revenge taker. How To End Bike Theft: The Honeybike Project details the making of your own shocking device.

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I’ve got a $40 pay as you go cell phone, hacked to a $20 stun gun … when you call the cell phone, which you can track on Google Maps …

The ingredients include a tazer, some kind of GPS device. Beware of the semi nakedness of the man who introduces the concept.

The outcome is you can phone your bike and induce the shock, or even make the bike’s brakes apply themselves with a little more tinkering. He does try it on himself in the demonstration.

Try it, but remember you’ll go to hell too.

2 bolts shown, 3 bolts actual

Ten weeks ago I went on a work trip to Spain to test a brand spanking new Saracen Ariel 2. But things didn’t turn out exactly as planned as, on the first day after spending 3 hours climbing, we donned our kneepads and started on the downhill. Not 200 meters into it I misjudged it and ended up breaking my hip, though I didn’t realise it at the time. I’m not going to go on about it (you can read more details here and here) but the fact of the matter is after 9 weeks on crutches I am now walking but am not allowed to ride a bike for another 3 months.

This has got me thinking, I’ve got some extra free time now so I’ve bought myself a guitar (how very punk rock ) and I’ve decided to sell my Yeti 575 so that I can use the money to buy myself a new bike early next year when I’m allowed back on. Imagine the new ride feeling with the excitement of being able to ride again! You can’t bottle that.

And while I’m at it I may as well strip down my trust old Dialled PA. It’s been looking a bit tatty for a while so I figure a new coat of paint is in order. I’m liking green, so I’ll probably go for green.

Let the stripping commence…

Here we see a claim that Cancellara uses an engine hidden inside his bike. It’s not as outlandish as it may seem when you see this thing and the evidence presented.

I am holding off judgement, but it’s not very punk rock.

via: www.singletrackworld.com/forum/topic/mechanical-doping-in-road-cycling

It feels a bit odd. I haven’t seen the magazine yet, this photo was SMSed to me.
In other news, I went to the Dalby Mountain Bike World Cup. It was great. A large volume of people turned up to watch the racing and the finish was actually very exciting, with a sprint between the Olympic Champion Julien Absalon and Nino Schurter. Schurter winning by 26″ (read about that here).

I also got a chance to ride the course on a borrowed bike. Hotlines distribution kindly lent me a Ghost AMR5900. Ghost is a German brand they’ve just started distributing in the UK. And apart from the creaking headset it was a very nice bike. The suspension just did its job with little ‘getting used to it’ time. It also had a nice tapered headtube and post mount rear brake. It just felt right from the start…although I’d put a slightly shorter stem on.

It was a pretty tough course and gave me a new respect for those cross country racers. It was technically very challenging with plenty of black and double black sections, and even a triple black dropoff. I managed to ride it after dropping my seat. These guys were riding it on their XC bikes with seat at full extent. There were chicken runs for the black options but they went out of their way to make you lose a place or two if you chose it. To power round 5 or 6 times takes some serious mental concentration.
Provided the ash cloud stays out of my way I’ll be going to Spain tomorrow for a week’s mountain biking around Malaga with Joyriders. We’re (Singletrack Magazine) doing a bike test, I’ve got myself a nice Saracen Ariel to play on.

New bottom bracket. He’s not Pace, he’s Neco. One of those Tiawanese companies that makes things for others. This one’s got ceramic bearings that are buttery smooth. He’s got no nipples though.

www.necoparts.com – Remember when websites used to be like this?

Were hammering down a back alley in Headingly heading towards Beckett Park.

“Back Alley” is the correct term. I was at the back of the group of 6. And this alley, running alongside the train tracks, was very narrow. Fence on one side, wet bushes on the other. Not wide enough to turn around.

Suddenly I hear gasps of desperation, shouting and gagging. “Shit” is the word I hear most. Then I see it. The track, for a good ten meters, is covered in human excrement. A burst sewer pipe, a train dump? I don’t know, but defenetily human. It stank, and there were wet wipes and the like floating on it’s surface.

I ride on, with my breath held tight (did I mention it stank?). Trying to maintain that magic speed to get through it as quickly as possible whilst minimising tire spray. My gag reflex getting a thorough workout.

The rest was really good though. It’s that time of year again, wet roots and wet rocks.