Author: Alex

“It just works”

On By AlexIn Other stuff5 Comments

Right there is the strap-line from the Apple Fundamentalists on a personal crusade to convert us heathen Windows users to The One True Way. Apple may not be the only fruit , but don’t try that line of argument with this lot unless you’re keen to include some form of Jihad in your list of personal goals.

You may have noticed a slightinconsistencyin my technology messages through the flip-flopping of “what’s broken this week?” and similar crushing disappointments. In my defence, it’s hard not to feel asoupçonof vexation when something that just works just bloody doesn’t.

It’s probably my fault. Man and boy steeped in IT lore with 20+ years against the RamPack has put me in a position where I don’t seem to understand anything. A masterful career choice I’m sure you’ll agree.

I sort of understood Windoze. You accepted it was going to be a bit rubbish, would require updating every nine seconds, had build inobsolescenceas a revenue generator and randomly crash with some splendid message to the tune of “0x455320 Parity Error“. It was even sort of comforting. I speak from recent experience after Carol’s hard drive entered a graunchy terminal death spiral leaving us the joyful task of installing Windows 7 on a new one.

Not much works. Plug the camera in and it’s an electronic raspberry down the Internet trumpet. Attempt to print something and the fancy UI does nothing but surface that parity error with nice rounded aero corners. My good friend Frank who is properly competent in all things desktop has pronounced it almost dead on arrival and recommended – seriously – a course of action which involves throwing everything away except for the new hard drive.

I’m pretty much okay with that if I can do the throwing. As in I’ll be throwing an axe and the system unit shall be more the “throwee“. The MacBook tho stalks a higher ground full ofsatisfiedexpressions and infinite smugness. Macs don’t go wrong ever – even saying such a thing means a kitten dies somewhere. Really, that’s the prevailing view I took during full immersion into iClone at the London Store.

Like I say, it’s probably my fault. I installed some google software on it so therefore should be grateful that such stream-crossing* lunacy was not rewarded by electronic parps emitted at high speed followed by a controlled explosion of the processor. I’m sure the fan speed increased as it attempted to fight itself out of the metal case rather than be stuck inside with the enemy.

It’s not totally broken. It performs more than adequately if tethered to a power socket. On the battery? Not so much. This – I feel – is a serious flaw in any portable device. At best it’s a health and safety nightmare as I travel around the house trailing cables at ankle height, at worst it’s shopping for a 150 mile extension lead to allow me to work on the way into London.

Not good. Not good at all. Which brings me to Apple support. Lovely people, located in-country and not hidden behind more than five minutes of virtual barbed wire. Sadly any conversation which starts with “waa ai man” and finishes with “champion” generally has bits in between filled with not much other than bewildered silence.

So it’s off down the menders when I’m next in Brum. Apparently I have to make an appointment. I assume crashing it through the window with the force of a few lost evenings is an adequate way of presenting my credentials.

New iPhone tho. That’s lovely. No back button, but I’m sure I’ll find it in time. Although I barely dare touch it as a) it was SILLY MONEY and b) a few swipes from Mr. IT Jonah here shall likely be the end of it.

I must be the only man in the entire global field of apple sheep that has not yet downloaded Angry Birds. I feel a better way to ease my frustration through pointless activity shall be to savagely smash my head against this table until the feelings of mild irritation subside.

Still looking for something happy and uplifting to finish on, at least my future earnings potential/possible requests for food parcels is not predicated on a thorough understanding of how computers work 😉

* don’t make me explain it. Everyone in the world has watched ghostbusters by now surely?

Have spade, will dig.

On By AlexIn Bikes, Mountain Bike Riding, Photography2 Comments

Trailbuilding afternoon
This is about as much fun as a middle aged man can have armed only with a spade, a small bicycle, a wood with a status of “probably legal” and an afternoon running away from other stuff that is apparently more important.

More important than riding bicycles? A strange concept that resonates somewhere between “hollow” and “not at all” in my world. So armed with a mate, a foldingentrenchmenttool and a mental age of about 7, we set about clearing trails in a bijou landscape filled with bomb-holes, steep sided run-ins, leaf-fall and apparent abandonment.

For about three years, the mutt and I haveperambulatedalong the main track, occasionally exploring by shuffling down banks and fighting through brambles. At no time have I come across anyone showing an interest in the acres of non-coppiced trees, or – in fact – anyone at all. One snowy December, twenty happyminutes were passed by Murf and I arse surfing down the banks into the bomb holes. It’s may not be much of a wood, but it feels like mine.

Surroundedby larger wooded areas – all of which are filled withpheasantshoots – and bookended by the main road in the valley and the crumbling one on the ridge, this little bit of green seems largely forgotten and neglected. So perfect for some trail poaching.

Trailbuilding afternoonTrailbuilding afternoon

In my lunatic cross-bike days, trails were scoped out but largely ignored mainly through fear of death. And with so much brilliant riding 20 minutes away, it’s easy to understand door step ignoration of something half as good but twice as convenient. But today we had a proper look and were consumed with “Line Disease“*

Poaching trails not entirely without cheek has a certain etiquette. Pitching up sporting petrol driven chainsaws for example is frowned upon. As is chopping down anything that’s still alive, although selective pruning is fine. Drop-Shipping home built planks and north shore isn’t on at all, but smoothing soil over a likely stump is absolutely the ethos of cheeky trails.

Trailbuilding afternoonTrailbuilding afternoon

We scoped a lot but built only a single trail before the call of night, tea and medals. It’s a pretty fun 20 second drop off the ridge, cranking right between two trees on off camber loam, bit of speed into a corner needing a berm and then two jumps, the first little, the second merely a trail pimple.

But with a bit of thought and a lot of effort, there is a loop to be made here. It might not be the 100k of sublime singletrack hidden in the Forest or the steep and deeps of the Malverns, but it’s right on my doorstep and I’ve a winter to get through.

Trailbuilding afternoonTrailbuilding afternoon

My deeply held view of legally-ambivalent trails is simply this; we’re not destroying anything, we’re not breaking anything, we’re not nailing stuff to trees**, we are merely making use of dead space, forgotten land, abandoned acreage. I almost think of it as a public service – although I accept other views are available. Wrong, but available.

But the very best thing about creating something from nothing is this; while you may be 44 on the outside, it males you feel about 11 years old. And only someone with a less developed sense of humour than an accountant would see this as a bad thing.

* Many MTB’rs suffer from this: Look at something clearly unridable by you, stroke chin, rotate wrist 90 degrees describing the line through a shark like wiggle of the hand and declare “that’ll go”. Pause. “Probably“. Pause. “Fancy trying it first?”

** Until recently, a practice exclusively left to Christians and Canadians.

The mist is clearing

On By AlexIn Other stuff, Photography, Pretentious nonsense7 Comments

Autumn mist

A picture paints… no forget it, you’re getting the 1000 words anyway.

A month after quitting my job, I find myself almost hysterically happy at not doing some of it. Or, if I’m striving for honesty, most of it. In fact apart from the bits with friends in pubs putting the world to rights, let’s remove the fence from our arse and declare “all of it“.

Four weeks in which riding of bicycles, seeing of family, London not going to, and affirming of what’s important has put me in a very happy place. Exhibit A was last night’s ride where a much-missed pal re-joined the nocturnal pack after a knee injury had him sidelined for six months. A little wet had fallen from the sky, leaves were plastered heavily over now slippy trails and the air was full of impending winter.

Absolutely the best ingredients for an organic exploration of the hills. Ride a bit, check Martin’s knee for potential explosion, ride a bit more, get chilly chilling out, modify routes, point out flaws in everyone elses, grumble on extra climbs, then head out into territory so cheeky it should get it’s bum smacked. Ride stupid loose, steep stuff and join grown men giggling at bullshit to the power of shared experience.

Rides like that tend to ramble on. I can feel a certain empathy there 😉 But 10pm had been and gone which generally alarms the misery gland with London not many hours away. Get home, sort bike and gear, assemble corporate stuff for the so-near morning call, shower, set alarm don’t sleep much. Today I woke refreshed three hours past that 4:50am start and God it felt good. Lazy but good.

Having mused on this during long dog walks and some strategic looking out of the window, clearly the only issue with this life-choice is simply that no-one will pay for you being a slacker. Which is how I have always viewed my approach to life. Honestly, where others saw hard work and dedication, I was internalising slights of hand, a stupidly good memory and the belief that everyone else was just a bit more shit. Really, my finest work would have been a treatise on “the importance of being idle” had not Oasis got there first.

It seems this may not be the case. Feelings of guilt shocked me into tense mutterings about what next. Suddenly every expense becomes an agony, best get the car serviced*, can’t let the kids watch TV all half term, really need a new front door – it has been pointed out to me that this is the way most people operate without a vastly inflated salary. And while we’re not exactly fiscally destitute, any environment reigning in bike spending for a whole month probably has some merit.

So it was back to the evil marketing shed for ideas around legal larceny. Riding bikes and writing nonsense seemed attractive until my old Pal Dave Barter explained that while taking a year off to complete a cycling route guide had been challenging, fulfilling and a fantastic life experience, it hadn’t actually made him very much money. And he’s far better at it than I am. So examining the few skills built up over *christ how much* 22 years of paid employment, it became clear the rut most travelled probably held the best prospect of paying the mortgage.

Half of those 22 years, I have worked for other people. Frankly, it’s not been an experience either of us has enjoyed. Jumping back into that was on the testicle slamming side of entirely delusional in terms of how it might be different. So I crossed that straight off. Not true actually, I never wrote it down in the first place.

So with Hobson and his uni-choice in the chair, working for myself appeared to be the only realistic option. Done it before, quite enjoyed it, rarely were security called to escort me from client site, people seemed on the satisfied side of invoice paying. And I have a certain passion for work which might sound pretty damn stupid when it’s just IT, but let me ask you this… if you spend 3/4 of your natural life spending every day doing something you don’t care about, how dumb is that?

If nothing else, my MacBook and iPhone become legitimate expenses. I have enough contacts and – apparently – credibility to ensure days will not be spent waiting for the phone to ring. And while London looms large in at least some of my working life, it’ll be on my dollar and for someone who’ll probably notice whether I’m there or not.

It’s not much of a plan, but it’s a start. And having just re-read my unpublished vitriol written the day I left, it’s not just a start but a step in the right direction.

Wish me luck, I’m going in.

*£250 only to be discover than “nothing to worry about” means “yeah it needs a new condenser and the brake pads are knackered, shall we just keep your credit card?“

Landrover List – Rule Clarification

On By AlexIn Other stuff2 Comments

I’ve been hawking the Landrover List to friends/respected colleagues of a certain age/total strangers. The response has been tremendous. Tremendous apathy mostly, but that’s the lifeblood of vanity publishing.

And while many stimulating and invigorating viewpoints have pressed their suit for list inclusion, the HVB* have held firm to their highly principled and entirely just criteria for acceptance. Or, in most case, rejection.

Ire has been drawn*** by the hardly relevant fact that these criteria have never been actually published, and -furthermore – appear to be made up on the spot. With “highly principled” merely a byphrase for “Get me another beer in, and I’ll see you right”

So in the spirit (if not exactly the actual letter) of fairness, let me elucidate on the guiding principals laid down by the HVB. Which coincidentally pretty much how they end up after a protracted discussion regarding exactly how manly naked Snakes and Ladders “using real snakes” actually is.

Attainability. For example, a suggestion for the list was “surviving a direct lightning strike“. Paused me for thought that idea, but I don’t want to encourage rushing outside in a storm waving iron bars into the face of nature’s plug socket. And manly as “come on you wimpy bastard, give it your best shock” may be, it’s hard to see how a pair of smoking shoes could really add to the list. Other than as a grubby footnote.

Gunfire. Nothing with projectile weapons. I know all men feel a certain frisson on firing off a big bore**** or going all Dirty Harry with the Electric Drill, but nothing with guns gets on the list. I am going to be quite firm about this. However I may be persuaded on edged weapons, bludgeoning maces, hallbuts or berserker trouts. A man facing off a difficult fish with nothing other than a stiff upper lip and an autobiography of Churchill may be onto something.

Sex. Conquests, that sort of thing. a) because if no one saw it, it didn’t happen and b) we’re looking for things that can be demonstrated to be properly manly in a public environment. Many years ago a friend of mine recalled an experience with a voluptuous lady and a Renault 4 that nearly made me sick by laughing. There is absolutely no justice in retelling, other than to explain the Valkyrie in question had – in a someone ironic twist – to screw off the gear knob before cramp set in.

Really nothing is going to compare to that. Let’s just move on eh.

Driving. All men believe they are the best driver in the world. Which is statistically troubling for a start, and equally unlikely. And while prowess may be shown “in the bends” or “away from the lights“, it’s not really manly behaviour is it? Unless you’re about 12 and a crumpled pullout of a Lamborghini Countach shares the bedroom wall with aposter of Kim Wilde.

There are exceptions – breaking down in the Australian outback next to a crocodile invested swamp with barely any water and eight whingy tourists would be one. Been there, disconnected the fridge to boost the emergency ariel, fought off hysterical Germans, – now something like that has potential. Going fast round corners? Not so much.

So I’ve a number of examples under consideration right now. Unsurprised I expect to find you when declaring 50{45ac9c3234d371044e23e276755ef3a4dde8f1068375defba7d385ca3cd4deb2}+ are bike related. But it’s not too late to get your entry in. If you can be bothered.

Apathy rules. Well it would if it could be arsed.

* Hedgehog Voting Board**

** Me.

*** Or mostly crayoned. Fair to say many of my friends struggle a bit with the idea of a “brainstorm“. A light shower is about the most they can manage. Bless ’em.

**** Let’s just get this over with. No-one is impressed with you performing a “Cameo Move” on your crotch and declaring that you’re ready to unleash the big weapon. And while the pub talk may be of packing a rampant love sausage, your nearest and dearest will tell you – in a moment of brutal candour – it’s more of a friendly little chippolata. Not me of course, it’s you we’re talking about.

Marketing works. I feel dirty saying that.

On By AlexIn Other stuffLeave a comment

One analyst predicted the death of the iPhone even before it was released*. Actually when you stop laughing that’s not so stupid when the market was flooded with many phones but little differentiation. The genius of the iPhone was that it didn’t copy, it didn’t even lead, – it just changed the game completely.

And that’s odd when you consider it is nowhere near perfect. Ask anyone their thoughts of the iPhone as say “a phone” and they’ll tell you it’s rubbish. They’ll point out other flaws as well – crap battery life, lock-in to Apple stuff, high cost, etc.” However, if you’ll offer to swap it for something has none of these issues expect wild eyed justifications, desperate pleading and offers of “Nooooo, take my daughter instead”

I don’t know how Apple did that and it seems neither does anyone else. First the iPhone stole the market and then the iPad created one. You cannot deny they wedgied the entire technology sector although they were more than helped by every other manufacturer. Product strategies were divided between slavish reproduction or getting all pious about OpenSource and wondering why no-one cared.

Or in HP’s case, spending billions on two operating systems and using neither, and Nokia – the undisputed market leader for years – dumping five years of development and jumping in bed with Windows 7. Now that’s a smart move what with Microsoft having sold about 11 phones so far.

A note here: watching Microsoft trying to be cool must be like my kids watching their dad trying to dance. At least I’m trying to be ironic. Not that they really care as they’ve run away by this time pretending to be orphans.

Apple have managed to create an experience that is so good, we all forget that this is exactly what IBM used to be slated for. Devices that don’t work with anything else. Having to buy everything from a single supplier. No choices other than stuff with an Apple logo on it. The difference is by opening up the App Store to developers and creating really neat in house products and software, we’re happy to be assimilated.

My friend James reckons buying your first Apple device creates a “bridgehead in your home” through which the entire product range swarms through. Not only that, it also instantly devalues all your other toys reducing them to door stops.

I’ve had that Mac for a couple of weeks week and it has insidiously wormed its way into my life. The PC seems to have become part server, part monitor mule, the horror of the Chisel IT is already fading, the tablet feels a bit “me too” and not in a good way. But fanboi status is not yet attained- my Android phone is really blameless here and has a part to play. it cost almost no money, runs lots of useful free apps, delivers e-mail, plays my music, and allows me to make and receive phone calls without the battery running out.

Which is clear and irrefutable evidence to why I’m going to buy an iPhone 4S. A phone that manages to be an expensive upgrade without actually upgrading anything. Aside from the Apple-Fanboi-Chip insert, my rationale for spending all that cash is because the Android phone won’t talk to the Mac. Well not nicely – they sort of electronically swear at each other before sulking and refusing to speak further despite my repeated urging.

So despite the rise of standards and apparent interoperability, we’re back to two or three brands dominating the landscape which don’t play nicely. Back in the 1990s, it wasn’t like that – the choices were endless and every technology manufacturer was trying hard to differentiate their products. It wasn’t always very good, but it was fun to watch.

Finally we’re back to bikes and metaphors. Go back even fifteen years and you couldn’t pedal for all the weird and wacky designs coming out of the bike shops. Funny suspension, flexible stems, white off-road tyres and elliptical chainrings. Th great thing about standards back in the day were there were so many to choose from. Most of them still measured in imperial units.

So your Trek Bicycle was an IBM PC; worthy, useful, a bit dull. The Singlespeed was a ringer for Apple. Hippy, niche, not very good at a lot of things, prized by those who owned one, laughed at by those that didn’t. Now Apple is the 29inch wheeled bike – everyone laughed at these as well but slowly they’ve become mainstream and changed the entire market when doing so.

I miss all those niches; now differentiation seems to be about wheel sizes and graphics. Consolidation of component manufacturers has upped quality but reduced choice. All the major manufacturers have bikes that work – and while there is still inter-brand hatred and myopia, it’s not really based on the actual riding experience.

Computers then; nobody thinks of them as computers any more. Just places where your apps live. And bikes cease to be about how they’re designed but more about the things they let you do. This is probably a good thing. It just doesn’t feel like it.

* The same man who – on being shown the Apple LISA – informed Steve Jobs that “no one would buy a computer with a Mouse“. And the bloke still has a job, Amazing.

Apple in your eye.

On By AlexIn Other stuff, Photography6 Comments

Technology Overload
[I wrote this before the untimely death of Steve Jobs. For once I was ahead of the game. It’ll not happen again]

Computers, you see, they are like bikes. A tenuous link you may think. Typical delusion from a man who considers world events through the prism of “how will this affect my riding of a bicycle“.

And while I may be King of the Tortured Metaphor*, there is a little more to this than “they both have metal bits in them“. That ^^ picture is painting a thousand words which include “Mac, Windows PC, Android Tablet, Kindle, Android Phone, iChisel(tm) Phone**” and “Why?”

Soon an explaination. First tho, a little history. I’m of such ancient stock that hazy memories remain of the first “computer showrooms“. Airy Galleries filled with back-lit technical magic – a silicon soup of diversity with survival of the fastest at its core.

Anarchy of design ruled; of chipsets, operating systems, programming languages and even physical form. Tiny units like the Oric-1 running Prologue, sprite based gamers including the VIC-20 and the Dragon 32. The first “luggable” sized similar to a suitcase with a 4inch screen. The Osborne-1 was very brave and way ahead of its’ time. Which easily explains why there was no Osborne-2.

And within these niches and crossovers stood three machines stamped with the desirable tag. The ZX Spectrum, the BBC Micro and the Apple II. For those of a certain age, the ZX-81 with its wobbly ram pack and tape drive marked the first age of personal computing. It’s successor with a keyboard that acutally moved then created the first computing Jihad.

If you were a “Speccy” you couldn’t be a BBC’r. Fights would break out over perceived slights and feature inflation. “Pah Basic, that’s not a proper language, and your processor is shit, and you’ve got no graphics memory and yes, actually, I DO ENJOY typing in nine pages of 101101 mnemomics and NO I don’t mind if the box overheats and explodes before I can save it”

They were rubbish fights of course, geeks being of the pipe cleaner physicue and NHS glasses genome, but there passion could not be questioned. Logic, Yes. Obsession, Very Probably. Inability to relate to anyone without a working knowledge of the Z80 processor, a sign of autism I’d accept.

The Apple II was something else with TWO 90k disk drives which seemed profligate in the extreme. What could possibly fill a vast storage system that today would encode nearly 4 seconds of an MP3 track. In marketing unrecognisable to Apple today, it was a bit confused – caught between business computer and personal plaything. Furthermore, it was boxy, expensive and lacked the coolness of other brands. Yes, this is Apple we are talking about.

This was back in the days when the extent of pervasive technology was the video recorder. If the geeks were to inherit the world, it’d take a while for anyone to notice – hunched up as they were over sweaty keyboards waiting for someone to take them seriously.

And in a move never repeated, someone did. IBM launched the Personal Computer to a sceptical audience and sold millions. And having cornered the market in hardware, they made the terrible mistake of believing PCs were like Mainframes with the mantra that“nobody got fired for buying IBM“. They didn’t need to, IBM fired themselves.

By licensing the hardware and giving up on the software, they not only backed the wrong horse, they knobbled it, fed it a sleeping pill before taking it out and shooting it in a mercy killing. A decision analogous to the record exec explaining “no one is interested in guitar music anymore” before dismissing the beatles from his presence.

So everyone was landed with a PC on their desk and more than a few bought one for home. Apple discovered its coolness with the iMac but for every one sold, Microsoft shipped 999 copies of windows on generic PC hardware.

Deciding that being cool and broke wasn’t a business model, Apple finally wised up and dumped their propriatory chipsets which pissed off their oh-so-hipster fanboi’s, but cheered the shareholders. Even so, the market saw PCs as safe, boring and for business while the Mac was fine for designers and publishers, but it’s not a real computer eh?

Then came the iPhone and everything changed. More of that next time, there’s only so much geekery even a man so steeped in the information age can take.

* or possibly “first amongst equals” or “Hedgmonically Priviledged” or even “Guardian of the Idea Pool“. Metaphors you see, it’s like verbal colouring in for people who aren’t allowed crayons.

** Picture taken after iSlate returned to IT department in flat trajectory by man dancing an embarrassing jig while shouting “HAH RING NOW, GO ON THAT CALL YOU RECEIVED ABOUT AN HOUR AGO, I DON’T CARE”. Forgot to include the Kindle in the pic as well. Maybe we could start a “spot the device” competition where I’d hand out re-cycled Palm Treo to the lucky winner.

That was the week that wasn’t

On By AlexIn Other stuffLeave a comment

So after a week bobbing about in the sea of partial unemployment, what lessons has been learned? Unsurprisingly, not much other than the much hackneyed “really should have done this years ago“. And even as a man who is on the genuinely delusional side of positives focussing, a couple of beers has me volte-facing on the stuff that I’ve entirely failed to miss.

Not going to London. I know, I know I’m even boring myself with this now. I’ll try and maintain your interest with a little story instead. My alarm is permanently set for 4:50am. Once or twice a week I hit the “on” button some six hours before the bloody irritating beep wrests me from a slumber. Except it generally doesn’t as – after missing exactly ONE train in a THOUSAND – the body clock jerks me awake around 4:30am. This has carried on happening, wide awake way before dawn listening to the “click” as the big hand heads towards five.*

I don’t really mind as I’ve a head full of stuff that needs thinking about. And it’s not like I actually have to get up. I am the king of the lazy lie in much to the disgust of the rest of the tribe. No guilt here, I think I’m owed.

Not dealing with pointless nonsense. I had an inkling much of my job was exactly that. A week of not doing it pretty much cements that hypothesis. Refereeing bipolar jihad’s on exactly how many angels can dance on a pin is an odd way to make a living. So I expect the firm has missed me exactly as much as I’ve missed them. Slightly strange is my absolute disinterest in things that were head-banging-against-the-desk important only a couple of weeks ago. There’s probably a message there, but I’m not really clever enough to work it out.

Not finding excuses. Four Bike rides, two of which started in the rain with the first ending in mud-splattered giggling and conditions on the second coming side of biblical. The poor bloody dog has been yomped all over South Herefordshire and if he’s not careful the pack leader might start running again. And finding time to properly do stuff that isn’t directly affected to work, riding bikes or other stuff with “me” in the middle of it has been something of an inspiration.

Not wondering about what’s next. The response to an inevitable question of what I might do went something like this “I’ve not really enjoyed any job in the last twenty years, so it would seem borderline insane to jump into another one“. This was met by blank stares, open astonishment and mild accolades for being a brave little soldier. Fairly sure I know what I don’t want to do, equally sure at some point there’ll be seditious talk about paying the mortgage. I’d quite fancy a middle age crisis, but I can’t afford a Ferrari and Carol’s dead against me having another motorbike.

A week ago – about now – I was fairly pissed in the middle of London, nth beer in one hand, Malboro light in the other wondering if I’d miss all the lovely people who had nothing better to do than turn up at my leaving do. A week later, it seems I was probably asking the wrong question.

* analogue clock. Presented to me by a German manufacturer over ten years ago. Absolutely refuses to die. We call it the “Clockwork Panzer“

Choices

On By AlexIn Bikes, Mountain Bike RidingLeave a comment

I chose to go riding

I chose not to look at the weather forecast

I chose to embrace the rain and the slop

I chose not to worry about wet roots and viscous mud

I chose the right bike

I chose not to whinge when the rain went torrential

I chosecommitment as a riding style

I chose not to find excuses to quit early

I chose good riding buddies

I chose not to treat Mountain Biking as a three season sport

I chose to ride

Good call 🙂

Reboot

On By AlexIn Bikes, Mountain Bike Riding, Photography2 Comments

Throwing Shapes. What kind of shapes I am not sure

What we’re not talking about here is my endless quest for the the “right” tyres, or some nonsense around “rebooting a franchise“of a tired old brand. The former, I’ve mostly given up on and now pursue a strategy based entirely on “what’s on the rim” while the latter is just marketing speak for “if you want some new ideas, you’d better pony up some more money. Lots more money”

What I am talking about is the search for lost cycling Mojo. Which was last seen back in April just before I spanged my elbow, and has only surfaced through fleeting sightings since. For which I’m entirely blaming having to travel to London. Because otherwise it might be my fault, and we can’t be having that.

London is toxic in all sorts of way beyond just the fug and smog of ten million nutters. It has engendered sufficient evening of benderage that means – even if I live another 50 years – my liver will never be a candidate for transplanting. And outside of treating boring hotels with liquid medicine, the early mornings, late nights, crap food snatched at stupid hours ruined my riding week. And London extended way beyond geographical boundaries however much I kidded myself otherwise.

Excuses not to ride were not just vocationally based. Other stuff to do at the weekends, sometimes with family, occasionally with paintbrush, probably too often on a hillside hunting down composite shards. And even on the bike, it wasn’t always as enjoyable as I remembered. Road biking nudged in for a while until the Dartmoor was done, after which the road bike came out exactly once in three months.

I wondered about this. What was missing from my cycling experience. And came to the worrying conclusion it was me. Or at least my enthusiasm and drive to get off my arse and go do stuff I’m sure I loved. Riding is always better than not riding – that’s an established “fact” here on the hedgehog, but sometimes rings a bit hollow from the comfort of a sofa.

It could be the repetition of too many tyred old rides. It could be the pace, too slow or too fast. Let’s be honest here, too fast is probably the issue. Once the goal isn’t some kind of peak fitness, the whole blowing it out of your arse suddenly looks a bit silly. It’s like those lists that you will never every get done. There is no finishing line, no point when you can put your feet up and say “I’m done“, no time when you ride because you absolutely want to rather than because you feel you should.

Whatever it is, a few things will change. Or be added. Injuries in my case, a couple which have slowed me down even further. So managing muscle groups against the twitch has seen me taking the climbs a little easier and trying to make up the time on the descents. Given a choice between riding with my friends or riding with the kids, I’ll go for the latter option every time. The road bike has a place and that’s not hung on the wall. It’s great for that stolen ride when you need to create that space in your head, and as an antidote to a winter of drudgy mud.

But mostly the change will be about what I’m riding for. I’ve never been short of guilt (either perceived or warranted) as a motivation for all sorts of stuff, riding included. Every ride is one that you won’t be able to do when you’re old(er) and (more) decrepit and should be viewed thus. We’re stupidly lucky to be able to combine our love of the outdoors with bikes.

Sometimes it is good to to remind yourself why

Over and Out

On By AlexIn Other stuff, Pretentious nonsenseLeave a comment

Nearly six years ago I took this job for six months. That over-run casts many of the projects I’ve worked on in a far more pleasing light. Sure we’ve missed the odd deadline, a few months, maybe a year, okay a bit more than a year late on occasion – but FIVE YEARS late on a six month project. That’s appalling.

A bright future in project management awaits then.

It’s been a week of many lasts; last time on this train, last time lost in the swarm of the tunnel rats, last time to use my security pass, last time to fabricate my timesheet.

Not the last time I’ll be going to the pub today. Because Lunchtime and Evening should count double, unless they blur into one mad drunken slur from midday to midnight.

I feel the very best I can hope for from this evening is to retain a smidgen of my dignity. And even that would be a bonus based on my dismissing tolerance to alcohol allied with an absolute belief I’m still about 18.

So this would probably be a good time to worry. Not about the prospect of being trundled home in a wheelbarrow or shopping trolley* as that’s mostly pre-destined and beyond my control. No, about what happens next.

I look into a diary that is normally crammed full of meetings, conference calls and other stuff pertaining to be useful. And I see nothing but ‘dead air‘, white space and endless days filled with bugger all. And yet I’m curiously unbothered about the prospect of unemployment.

And while my primary emotion is not as strong as exultation, it is certainly stronger than relief. It smells like freedom and that’s my kind of rarefied air. I’m swinging between lunatic-asylum giggling and wild thoughts on the farming of lettuces.

I suppose it comes down to this; I’ve spent 20 years+ working and have at least as much again to go. I’ve not enjoyed that much of it, so it seems pointless to continue to plough that particular furrow.

We seem to live in a world – from childhood to retirement – in a state of delayed gratification. Work hard, get good grades, work harder, get promoted, work longer for your pension. Retire, Die.

I’m sure there’s a better way. I’m just not sure what it is 🙂

* Not home exactly. A friend’s in Ealing. Or East Slough as I like to think of it.