18 Miles Per Hour

18 MilesPerHour is about riding through the world instead of just passing it by.
I CAN’T HELP MYSELF
So which is it?
“Please, help yourself to a delicious pastry left here in the work lunch room for the taking. After your long morning ride, you’ve earned it.”
Or
“Please, help yourself from undoing your nice, morning ride by stuffing a sugary, fatty pastry in your head. Help yourself from giving into the temptation, just because it’s free.”
How I read it depends on how close to race day I am.
I had a croissant.
Damn.
- Brian

I CAN’T HELP MYSELF

So which is it?

“Please, help yourself to a delicious pastry left here in the work lunch room for the taking. After your long morning ride, you’ve earned it.”

Or

“Please, help yourself from undoing your nice, morning ride by stuffing a sugary, fatty pastry in your head. Help yourself from giving into the temptation, just because it’s free.”

How I read it depends on how close to race day I am.

I had a croissant.

Damn.

- Brian

MEMORY LANE PASSES RIGHT THROUGH CAERPHILLY.
My latest ride was a simple out-and-back affair:
Out, all the way to my past, then back.
You see, my latest work trip to Helsinki allowed a weekend intermission to Wales for a family birthday (Happy 18th, H) and, thankfully, a ride this morning.
This trip’s borrowed bike, plus borrowed shoes, shorts, bottle and helmet was thankfully donated by my policeman brother-in-law. He had two options for me: his new road bike or his Smith & Wesson Police Issue Mountain Bike. Yep, that Smith & Wesson. Besides sidearms, they also make these. I plumped for the road bike and all his kit and headed off this morning, a little thick headed after last night’s frivolities.
To some degree the ride started last night, when attending THE party, with lots of family and a gaggle of old friends from a “previous life.” The conversation went like this:
OLD FRIEND: Why are you not going to church tomorrow morning?
ME: Because I am going for long a ride up into the hills.
OLD FRIEND: Oh!?
ME: More wine?
It was unbelievably not raining. With a beautifully clear and crisp morning, I headed from my parents house on a ride that stirred many memories. I could go on and on about coming across places I’d forgotten, places where I used to ride, climb trees and find gaps in the hedges where I’d connect trails together on my first mountain bike. Where I also and happily fell in love and went for long walks in the rain with my now lovely wife. But that would bore you. And memories this rich were best enjoyed alone on this morning on a borrowed bike. As I said, it was a stunning morning, I’ve attached a link to the ride here, but for the cultural education the ride carved an counter-clockwise route through the following towns:
Rhiwbina-Caerphilly-Rudry-Machen-Bedwas-Groeswen-Abertridw-Senghenydd-Nelson-Abercycnon-Cilfynydd-Pontyprydd-GlanyLlyn-TaffsWell-Tongwynlais-Rhiwbina
Aside from all my memories, there was one moment of absolute Welshness. If you are ever at the roundabout just outside Nelson, on the road to Abercycnon, stop at the Speedy Snacks for breakfast bap. It’s a close to this as you’ll ever get. They also have special chilli sauce from Barry Island. Which will mean nothing if you’re not from South Wales. If you are from Wales, you’ll understand the profundity of it all. And you’ll understand how some rides end up training the emotions as well as the heart.
Diolch yn fawr.
Rhys

MEMORY LANE PASSES RIGHT THROUGH CAERPHILLY.

My latest ride was a simple out-and-back affair:

Out, all the way to my past, then back.

You see, my latest work trip to Helsinki allowed a weekend intermission to Wales for a family birthday (Happy 18th, H) and, thankfully, a ride this morning.

This trip’s borrowed bike, plus borrowed shoes, shorts, bottle and helmet was thankfully donated by my policeman brother-in-law. He had two options for me: his new road bike or his Smith & Wesson Police Issue Mountain Bike. Yep, that Smith & Wesson. Besides sidearms, they also make these. I plumped for the road bike and all his kit and headed off this morning, a little thick headed after last night’s frivolities.

To some degree the ride started last night, when attending THE party, with lots of family and a gaggle of old friends from a “previous life.” The conversation went like this:

OLD FRIEND: Why are you not going to church tomorrow morning?

ME: Because I am going for long a ride up into the hills.

OLD FRIEND: Oh!?

ME: More wine?

It was unbelievably not raining. With a beautifully clear and crisp morning, I headed from my parents house on a ride that stirred many memories. I could go on and on about coming across places I’d forgotten, places where I used to ride, climb trees and find gaps in the hedges where I’d connect trails together on my first mountain bike. Where I also and happily fell in love and went for long walks in the rain with my now lovely wife. But that would bore you. And memories this rich were best enjoyed alone on this morning on a borrowed bike. As I said, it was a stunning morning, I’ve attached a link to the ride here, but for the cultural education the ride carved an counter-clockwise route through the following towns:

Rhiwbina-Caerphilly-Rudry-Machen-Bedwas-Groeswen-Abertridw-Senghenydd-Nelson-Abercycnon-Cilfynydd-Pontyprydd-GlanyLlyn-TaffsWell-Tongwynlais-Rhiwbina

Aside from all my memories, there was one moment of absolute Welshness. If you are ever at the roundabout just outside Nelson, on the road to Abercycnon, stop at the Speedy Snacks for breakfast bap. It’s a close to this as you’ll ever get. They also have special chilli sauce from Barry Island. Which will mean nothing if you’re not from South Wales. If you are from Wales, you’ll understand the profundity of it all. And you’ll understand how some rides end up training the emotions as well as the heart.

Diolch yn fawr.

Rhys

HAPPY FRIDAY. RIDE YOUR BIKE THIS WEEKEND.
Goo goo g’joob. It’s almost cycling outerwear time. Here’s a roundup, capped off with an opinion.
Levi’s commuter coat. Hip.
Rapha commuter jacket. Rakish.
Rivendell sweater. Professorial.
Performance. Sensible.
 And the winner? John’s. Not because if it’s pimpy style, but because. Wear whatever you want, just get out there, my friends.
Now stop reading and ride.

HAPPY FRIDAY. RIDE YOUR BIKE THIS WEEKEND.

Goo goo g’joob. It’s almost cycling outerwear time. Here’s a roundup, capped off with an opinion.

Levi’s commuter coat. Hip.

Rapha commuter jacket. Rakish.

Rivendell sweater. Professorial.

Performance. Sensible.

 And the winner? John’s. Not because if it’s pimpy style, but because. Wear whatever you want, just get out there, my friends.

Now stop reading and ride.

HAPPINESS IS EASY TO MEASURE.
The length of my shadows is directly proportional to the depth of my experience out there on my bike.
Early, early mornings or early, early evenings.
That’s where the good stuff is.
The sun and I are on the same level. We’re eye-to-eye. We’re both just getting started or calling it a day and the emotions are deep.
The calmness of the morning means interesting things are in store.
The calmness of the evening means the work is finished, what’s done is done and that’s that.
Here’s to long shadows and longer rides.
- Brian

HAPPINESS IS EASY TO MEASURE.

The length of my shadows is directly proportional to the depth of my experience out there on my bike.

Early, early mornings or early, early evenings.

That’s where the good stuff is.

The sun and I are on the same level. We’re eye-to-eye. We’re both just getting started or calling it a day and the emotions are deep.

The calmness of the morning means interesting things are in store.

The calmness of the evening means the work is finished, what’s done is done and that’s that.

Here’s to long shadows and longer rides.

- Brian

NEW BIKE SKILLS: MUSH.
There’s some skills and things I can do on a bike, there’s many I can’t, and few I’m sure, I’ll still have time to learn.
This Summer’s family pilgrimage to Utah brought new downhill skills to the littler cyclists in my family. Bunny hops, drop offs, teeter totters, and simply getting on and off a chair lift on one’s own. For me, I refined a particular technique that is necessary for my family. Namely, dog handling, while guiding and riding with three children and a lovely lady.
We have a dog. There, you can see him up there. It’s the white fluffy thing that looks like Snowy from Tintin. He’s part of the family - apparently.  I have a strained relationship with the dog, but one thing that I can’t fault him for (and believe me, there are many things that I can) it is being protective, territorial and generally a guardian of my children and lovely lady. Which is nice, right? Not when we’re out in the wilderness, in a state park, camping or anywhere where there’s a chance we’ll encounter other people, dogs or creatures.
He needs to be leashed…but we like to ride. So he needs to be on a leash while we ride. No easy task, that.
And we’ve discovered that he prefers to be at the back of the pack, protecting us, I suppose. So it falls to me, with my superior bike and now dog/bike handling skills to bring up the mutt and the rear.
It’s a skill. Occasionally it feels like this, but not often. But we’re practicing, so we can get as good as this.
Oh, his name? Rinky. Rinky-the-dog. Occasionally, Rinky the f*&$#in’ dog’.
Mush.
Rhys

NEW BIKE SKILLS: MUSH.

There’s some skills and things I can do on a bike, there’s many I can’t, and few I’m sure, I’ll still have time to learn.

This Summer’s family pilgrimage to Utah brought new downhill skills to the littler cyclists in my family. Bunny hops, drop offs, teeter totters, and simply getting on and off a chair lift on one’s own. For me, I refined a particular technique that is necessary for my family. Namely, dog handling, while guiding and riding with three children and a lovely lady.

We have a dog. There, you can see him up there. It’s the white fluffy thing that looks like Snowy from Tintin. He’s part of the family - apparently.  I have a strained relationship with the dog, but one thing that I can’t fault him for (and believe me, there are many things that I can) it is being protective, territorial and generally a guardian of my children and lovely lady. Which is nice, right? Not when we’re out in the wilderness, in a state park, camping or anywhere where there’s a chance we’ll encounter other people, dogs or creatures.

He needs to be leashed…but we like to ride. So he needs to be on a leash while we ride. No easy task, that.

And we’ve discovered that he prefers to be at the back of the pack, protecting us, I suppose. So it falls to me, with my superior bike and now dog/bike handling skills to bring up the mutt and the rear.

It’s a skill. Occasionally it feels like this, but not often. But we’re practicing, so we can get as good as this.

Oh, his name? Rinky. Rinky-the-dog. Occasionally, Rinky the f*&$#in’ dog’.

Mush.

Rhys

NO.
I mentioned to a friend that I wanted to work running into my cycling regimen.
He sent me this image.
It’s called the Fliz.
I don’t think he, nor the folks at Fliz, get it. 

NO.

I mentioned to a friend that I wanted to work running into my cycling regimen.

He sent me this image.

It’s called the Fliz.

I don’t think he, nor the folks at Fliz, get it. 

HERE WE GO.
It starts with a click and ends with a beer.
This was me, last night at midnight, entering the race as soon as registration opened. Now I go into (light, fun) training that will culminate 4 ½ months from now at the finish line with a beer. Or several.
Hope to see you there.

HERE WE GO.

It starts with a click and ends with a beer.

This was me, last night at midnight, entering the race as soon as registration opened. Now I go into (light, fun) training that will culminate 4 ½ months from now at the finish line with a beer. Or several.

Hope to see you there.

HAPPY FRIDAY. RIDE YOUR BIKE THIS WEEKEND.
Like Gary C and The Babe, here.
The Babe might’ve wanted this.
…and this… 
But don’t forget this.
 That’s it. See you out there this weekend. I’m calling my shot right now, pointing my frame pump toward the trails.
(photo courtesy of Rides A Bike)

HAPPY FRIDAY. RIDE YOUR BIKE THIS WEEKEND.

Like Gary C and The Babe, here.

The Babe might’ve wanted this.

…and this 

But don’t forget this.

 That’s it. See you out there this weekend. I’m calling my shot right now, pointing my frame pump toward the trails.

(photo courtesy of Rides A Bike)

NATURE VERSUS MAN, CHAPTER 1
It’s the very beginning of this story of the little tree growing inside the thick-walled, steel pole that we stumbled upon on one of our ride rest breaks. How did it get there? We unanimously believe a bird ate a seed then pooped it down into the pole. If it’s left alone – and it has been for months now – will the tree overpower the mighty pole? Or will it suffocate inside that rusty thing?
Only time will tell. Time we hope that tree gets. And whatever happens, we will accept it as fated. What happens is supposed to happen. But if we’re honest, we do have a preferred victor.
Go tree.

NATURE VERSUS MAN, CHAPTER 1

It’s the very beginning of this story of the little tree growing inside the thick-walled, steel pole that we stumbled upon on one of our ride rest breaks. How did it get there? We unanimously believe a bird ate a seed then pooped it down into the pole. If it’s left alone – and it has been for months now – will the tree overpower the mighty pole? Or will it suffocate inside that rusty thing?

Only time will tell. Time we hope that tree gets. And whatever happens, we will accept it as fated. What happens is supposed to happen. But if we’re honest, we do have a preferred victor.

Go tree.

BOY GETS BIKE. 
BOY LOSES BIKE. 
BOY GETS BIKE BACK THROUGH STREET JUSTICE.
We all hate bike thieves, right? Well let’s all raise our glasses for my good friend Jason Wolske. Jason is an artist, web guru and principal at Chalk LA. 
He got his beloved bike stolen. Heartbreaking. Then he sees his bike out there on the road. He cuts the guy off on his chopped Honda Ruckus and goes Liam Neeson on his thief arse. 
He got the bike and waited for the police to show up while the thief hid, scared, in someone’s backyard into which he fled. 
While we don’t condone such brash moves, while we don’t want to see anyone risk their life for a bike, while we say all these kinds of disclaimers…we DO say…hell yeah, Jason.
- Brian

BOY GETS BIKE.

BOY LOSES BIKE.

BOY GETS BIKE BACK THROUGH STREET JUSTICE.

We all hate bike thieves, right? Well let’s all raise our glasses for my good friend Jason Wolske. Jason is an artist, web guru and principal at Chalk LA. 

He got his beloved bike stolen. Heartbreaking. Then he sees his bike out there on the road. He cuts the guy off on his chopped Honda Ruckus and goes Liam Neeson on his thief arse. 

He got the bike and waited for the police to show up while the thief hid, scared, in someone’s backyard into which he fled. 

While we don’t condone such brash moves, while we don’t want to see anyone risk their life for a bike, while we say all these kinds of disclaimers…we DO say…hell yeah, Jason.

- Brian