Singletrack Staff Blog

I don’t often travel far to ride my bike, but I have to admit I’m glad I made the effort to get down to Bristol at the weekend for the SSUK and accompanying alcoholic mayhem. It’s always good to taste new trails and despite my local riding being bigger on (bleak) horizons than it is on trees I was pleasantly surprised by the grin inducing qualities a bit of handlebar width tree lined singletrack has to offer.

Variety is the spice of life they say, and it’s certainly true when it comes to experiencing the subtle differences in different peoples local trails. I’m already looking forward to a future excuse to get down there again for a full weekend of riding with locals.

So SSUK has been and gone for another year. Thanks to Shaggy, Mel and the Bristol Bikefest gang who did a great job of organising a great weekend. And special thanks for sharing your trails with us x x x

I think I misplaced mine somewhere sometime last month 

So, March and April threw everyone a swerve ball with the unseasonal weather, shorts and sleeveless shirts were dragged out of the cupboard blinking in the sunlight, the trails dried out and suddenly every day and every trail was valuable….

Bikes gathered dust,…… from the trails !, life was good.

And then came May with the rain, and the cold, and the mud, what a shock to the system !, this combined with a rush of activity at work meant riding time was suddenley at a premium and that premium time always coincided with the rain, and the cold, and the mud

3 weeks later and the only riding I was doing was the commute to work which is so ingrained afetr all these years that it never gets questioned even in the rain, and the cold, and the mud, but that doesnt mean I enjoy it. In fact all the enjoyment had gone from my wheels, I was like a sulky teenager and it was affecting my whole outlook on life.

Fortuanely for me I have some great friends who decided to take matters into their hands as they could see that the non riding was getting me down, so plans for this last weekend were hatched, we were going to ride over to Ed’s birthday party on the road bikes and then ride the mountainbikes on the Sunday, great, decision made.

Saturday evening came and due to balancing my other “real” life I was out with the family so missed the boat on the road ride and the party, oh well plans are always flexible, but was determined not to miss out on Sunday under any circumstances.

Work issues were checked and resolved, everything tickety boo at home, heck I even made coffee and delivered it to the bedroom, kids all aright ? check, ok get in car and drive….

Arrive at Matts place to find the (expected) hangovers all in place, check, bikes ready to roll, check, coffee served up and away we go, as always straight up Jack Bridge, smiling to ourselves at the Mary Townleyers looking at the map at the bottom !, remember kids, always check the map at the TOP of the descent.

And so it went, familar trails that were back to dust, exploring a few new trails that can be added to the list, coming down the hill at a faster speed than my ability should allow and blow me there it was hiding in the hedge, I’d found my Mojo again, at some point on that descent it had jumped into my back pocket and encouraged me to go faster and started to create the infamous shit eating grin that always happens when the endorphins flow. May was now just a rapidly fading memory.

A quick pint at the Blue Pig and a few more turns of the cranks and the day was done, nothing even approaching an epic but the feeling for turning your wheels was back in my blood.

Its easy to forget how lucky we are to do this thing called “cycling” and how this “cycling” is a great counterbalance when life gets out of shape, you just need a reminder now and again and a few friends to provide it.

Mojo fully restored