AN APPROPRIATE BICYCLE - Pt.18: DEBUT IN LYCRA

The Romani is now in my possession and I’ve already covered some ground on it, fixed Kryptonite’s bizarre FlexFrame U-bracket to the down-tube, raised the handlebars by a whole 2 cm, exchanged the firm saddle it came with for the Vetta Gel off of the Carlos, raised the seat-tube a couple of inches and then lowered it again by about one. The early signs are good and I suspect that buying this bike was absolutely the right thing to do.

I asked my cadres to provide some information for my readers, like you sometimes get in real life sporting publications, such as Shoot magazine. I wanted to create profiles of sorts so to get a feel for the various personalities that race for Carlos-Weltschmerz. See what you think:

Name: James Evans (that’s me)

Age: 37

Bike:  Carlos Tours Romani Prestige

Race Jersey: La Vie Claire

Giro, Tour or Vuelta? Vuelta

Preferred theatre of Second World War (assuming one partook in it, and regardless of the risk of mortality): North African Campaign - leave in Cairo

Preferred meteorological conditions (not for cycling; just in general): 28°C, overcast, no breeze, humid, with the portent of storms

Hypothetical ride-on music (like they do in the darts and snooker): Fit and Working Again - The Fall

Favourite 'ism': Constructivism

What are you reading? The Anatomy of Melancholy by Richard Burton.

Name: Simon A C Evans
Age: 34
Bike: Gary Fischer Hybrid
Race Jersey: Bic or Café de Colombia
Giro, Tour or Vuelta? Tour
Preferred theatre of Second World War: North Atlantic Convoy
Preferred meteorological conditions: Heavy Rain when on a veranda or shed with an open door, to give the feeling that I am undercover but still outside
Hypothetical ride-on music: I Can't Do Nuttin For Ya Man – Public Enemy
Favourite 'ism': Cubism
What are you reading? Steady State Economics by Herman Daly.

Name: Peter Gowland

Age: 38

Bike: Bianchi C2C

Race Jersey: PDM-Concorde

Giro, Tour or Vuelta? Paris-Roubaix

Preferred theatre of Second World War: Western Front - Normandy

Preferred Meteorological conditions: August, Ibiza - hot and dry

Hypothetical ride on music: No music: spoken word - Al Pacino's 'inches' speech from Any Given Sunday

Favourite 'ism': Atheism – f**k God and the horse he rode in on

What are you reading: Bounce: The Myth of Talent and the Power of Practice by Matthew Syed.

Name: William Mommersteeg

Age: 43

Bike: Bianchi Reparto Course Condor Squadra

Race Jersey: St. Raphael

Giro, Tour or Vuelta? Tour

Preferred theatre of Second World War: Burma

Preferred meteorological conditions: 30°C and sun shining

Hypothetical ride-on music: Rock n' Roll - Led Zeppelin

Favourite 'ism': Favouritism

What are you reading? Chinaman by Shelhan Karunatilaka.

Name: Ben Wenborn

Age: 35

Bike: Specialized Roubaix

Race Jersey: Château D'ax Gatorade

Giro, Tour or Vuelta? Giro

Preferred theatre of Second World War: The Mediterranean - naval campaigns around Malta/Gibraltar/Suez Canal

Preferred meteorological conditions: Dark 'n' stormy

Hypothetical ride-on music: Can't Touch This - MC Hammer

Favourite 'ism': Laxism

What are you reading? Ubik by Philip K Dick.

It was Mr Mommersteeg who was proving to be the most receptive to this whole London to Brighton project (although everybody was committed by way of registration). He – as my neighbour – was knocking on my door to see if I wanted to go for a ride. I did, and so we did.

            It was a Saturday, and the weather was good: a stiff breeze but the sun was out, with an ambient temperature of approximately 15°C – usual for the time of year and a marked improvement on the unseasonably cold and wet and dank conditions that have persisted through February, March and the beginning of April. We set off towards Wimbledon, by way of Kingston, New Malden and Raynes Park, in good spirits.

            The night before I’d alerted my co-conspirators of our intent, knew that it was late notice and expected little in the way of a response. I was pleasantly surprised, then, to see that Mr Wenborn had replied to my email and was open to the possibility of joining Mommersteeg and I in Wimbledon.

Somewhere along the B282 – West Barnes Lane by another name – I received a telephone call from Wenborn and impressed myself with the dexterity with which I unzipped the top pocket of my Mavic technical jacket, extricated my mobile phone, answered it, and proceeded to discuss estimated times of arrival with the caller, all the while maintaining a reasonable speed. Wenborn would indeed be joining us and I’d finally be able to begin the process of team bonding.

            We discussed bicycles over coffee and then headed off towards Wandsworth, by way of Tooting Broadway. We then made towards Putney before following the Thames to Hammersmith, whereupon we crossed to the north side of the river – its south facing aspect open to the sun’s glare – and paused for a pint.

            Thereafter we moved back south, cycled to Barnes Bridge and repeated the procedure. Over that second alcoholic beverage, cycling attire was to be the topic of conversation – what jerseys we had; should one wear a second, looser pair of shorts over their lycra; what did I think of white cycling shoes – and I was pleased that my domestiques appreciated that these things matter. Not everyone does.

Mommersteeg and I covered approximately 23 miles that day, albeit fractured with coffee and booze. It signalled the start of my training regime, though, and that was important. After having hit some good form about half of the way through February, I’d since lost it again, the cumulative effect of bad weather, full-time work, a niggling shoulder injury and too many social commitments.

            I followed this up with a 16 mile ride on Monday, a 28 mile ride on Thursday  and a couple of 4 mile round commutes to work in-between – about 75 miles in all. This is no big deal: Mommersteeg and Wenborn ride about the same distance week in, week out on their respective commutes to work. An anticipated period of reduced working hours should allow me to establish a similar routine.

The 28 mile ride is worthy of note because it represented the first time I’d dressed in full kit – my debut in Lycra, if you will. I wore the Descente cycling jersey, my cycling shorts and race socks in temperatures touching 20°C, and found the experience strangely exhilarating, like I had some sort of extra power that I could impose on people that got in my way – like I might be taken more seriously. This illusion was slightly dented by the absence of any helmet, for serious cyclists are apt to wear protective headgear at all times. I could have done with some sunglasses too, but I don’t really like things in and around my face, which is why helmets have featured so lowly on my list of priorities. This might sound reprehensible, but consider this: I’ll take more risks when I'm finally wearing a lid, in situations that I presently ease up on – like descending.

My ride took me through Richmond, Putney, Wandsworth and Battersea, and paused in Waterloo at Evans Cycles to return those Altura “mitts” after I’d recently observed the stitching coming away in the area betwixt my thumb and forefinger. On inspecting the same style glove in-store I concluded that the issue was anomalous and that my particular pair of fingerless gloves had not been properly appended in the first instance. However, my enthusiasm for them had now waned and I decided that I would replace them with something more modern. This was not because of any perceived weakness attributable to the style but more to do with a fondness for anachronism. The flavour of my bike and my race get-up has an undeniably retrospective feel, but my motive is not parodic and I’d like to offset some of these traditional aspects with a more contemporary edge. There will be my cycling shorts, the accessories attached to my bike, a helmet (eventually), and now there will also be my new gloves: I've ordered a pair of white Mavic Espoir ‘everyday race gloves’ offering ‘progressive cushioning’ from another on-line cycle store – Hargroves Cycles – for the meagre sum of £14, with free postage, reduced from £20.

In the meantime, I've secured that La Vie Claire jersey. My birthday’s coming up and I dropped noisy hints in the company of my lady-friend. Naturally, she obliged, although I will have to wait a month or so before I can wear it.

            I've sold that Carlos-Galli jersey too, so now I can run with my ‘trinity of jerseys’ theory. The La Vie Claire jersey, along with those of my contemporaries – Café de Colombia, PDM-Concorde, St. Raphael and Château D'ax Gatorade – leads me to believe that Carlos-Weltschmerz could well be the smartest looking team in the peloton.

AN APPROPRIATE BICYCLE - Pt. 14: WHERE I RIDE

I do actually ride my bike(s), you know. I have even conspired to form a number of specific routes. There’s the one that takes me into Richmond, along Sheen Road through Sheen itself, to Putney Bridge by way of Barnes, across the river, then left down Fulham Palace Road at the end of which I cut through Hammersmith and join Chiswick High Road and then head back home via Kew. It’s about a 13 mile journey but can be easily extended by taking a diversion through the heart of Fulham and then across to High Street Kensington. Without the deviation I will stop for coffee somewhere in Chiswick. When the detour features I take my coffee at Nero (which has pictures on the walls of people drinking coffee for you to look at while you're drinking coffee) next to Boots Chemist on Kensington High Street – for some reason I like it there.

          I have formed another course which takes me in the opposite direction, away from the city: through Twickenham, out along Staines Road, down towards Hampton and Thames Ditton, stopping off in Kingston before heading home via Ham and Richmond. I prefer to traverse this route when the weather is more agreeable, for its suburban backdrop doesn't suffer overcast conditions gladly. I have devised other courses but they tend to be variations on the aforementioned routes. For example, the Chiswick Circuit may bypass Putney entirely and makes its way towards Hammersmith by slicing through Barnes Common and taking Castelnau Road (a.k.a. the A306) towards Hammersmith Bridge. I can’t imagine that this saves much more than half of a mile and Castelnau Road is such a bore of an avenue that I don’t know why I even occasionally bother with this collinear bypass.

In the run-in to Christmas I established a new route of approximately 17 miles and with a few tough climbs thrown in. I haven’t based any these circuits on specific cycling requirements, and they’re more likely to be determined by something else I have to do or, more specifically, somewhere I want to go. I think the Wimbledon Circuit was originally informed by the presence of a Debenhams and a TK Maxx there, but you really shouldn't read too much into that.

So the Wimbledon beat forces me up Richmond Hill, back down through the other side of Richmond Park, then around Wimbledon Common by way of the A3, before joining Coombe Lane, passing through Raynes Park and then on to Wimbledon. The first time I rode this circuit I stopped for coffee on Wimbledon Bridge, where all the big shops are, before starting out towards Putney and joining Upper Richmond Road/Sheen Road and then on into Richmond itself. The second time I stopped off in Wimbledon Village, at the Starbucks up there, then took a detour passed the All England Tennis Club, ended up in Wandsworth, picked up Putney Bridge Road and made my way back towards Richmond (it had been a particularly cold day, but very stable – not bad conditions for cycling once you get going). As a whole, I like the Wimbledon Circuit but there is an aspect to it I'm not so fond of: the stage where I have to follow the A3 – or Robin Hood Way, as it’s also known – around Wimbledon Common to reach Wimbledon Proper. It isn't a question of distance, I just think there must probably be a more pleasant route through Wimbledon Common that avoids the tedium of cycling alongside the A3.

Just the other day I was quite in the mood for riding the Wimbledon Circuit and thought I might have another crack at finding a way through the Common, having abandoned my previous attempt on account of the freezing conditions and the confusing abundance of paths. But after studying Google Maps I was sure I’d identified the passage I needed to follow.

I hadn't – couldn't possibly have. Wimbledon Common is an undulating tract, with a Golf Club and everything. The wooded areas are surprisingly thick and there’s no accommodation for racing bicycles: even mountain bikes are prohibited on some of the trails. 

To build strength I try not to change gear too much, but some of the downhill dashes through Richmond Park necessitate I shift up to avoid spinning out. So it had been on the approach to Kingston Gate. I don’t know if it’s the nature of down-tube shifters, but some of my gear changes have been pretty rough. And this is part of the appeal of bikes like the Pinarello, where the gear shifters are integrated into the brake levers, and my recent apostasy with regard to the Carlos might have something to do with this. But my head tells me it’s a question of technique and of practise. Besides, down-tube shifters have an aesthetic appeal.

          By the time I reached the edge of Wimbledon Park I was keen to breach the Common, even if I had to dismount and walk it – which I did. I ended up carrying my bike across sodden, mire-like conditions, finding some succour on the open heath occupying the Common’s interior, but was still unable to then cycle due to the stubborn snow and the signs telling me not to. The cold-snap had lost its grip upon the rest of the Capital – even Richmond Park was enjoying the thaw – but the heart of Wimbledon Common had some catching up to do.

          I got a bit lost but found an exit onto West Place and the open expanse of common that surrounds Rushmere Pond. I recalled enough of the topography from Google Maps to then find my way to the Starbucks in Wimbledon Village and took my coffee earlier than I would normally do.

Wimbledon Village is an odd place. It’s like you’re on the top of the world up there. It rests on a sort of plateau, and I find myself physically aware of the fact. I like the feeling of isolation this gives, of being cut off from the rest of London. If I lived alone and wanted to disengage myself from other people then it would be a good place to dig in. I imagine those flats that occupy the floors up above the shops are different to those that lie in London’s lower lying recesses. I would expect the light to flood in and to feel close to the elements, with a view over the city from my back window. One might even become rather forlorn.

Whether or not investing in a water resistant cycling jacket is the right thing to do, I judge it to be entirely necessary. An open, regular ¾ length coat is vulnerable to water spray coming up the rear and making a mess of it, whereas an elasticated hem will merely contrive to leave one’s derriere exposed to take the flak instead. The cycling jacket adds extra length at the back to deal with this – sort of like a synthetic mullet – and it’s made from material that can cope. But whereas cycling jerseys can be tailored to leave a less serious impression, the jackets often read like a statement of intent. For practical purposes, they’re usually cut in the most reflective of fabrics: fluorescent yellow, silver, white, red. The Italian manufacturer Castelli does some nice jackets in black and/or grey, and I like their red scorpion motif that adorns them, but they’re normally quite expensive. Rapha – a British firm – do a very nice looking all black coat, but that costs £240 – way over my budget.

It was whilst scouting some of the on-line retailers that I discovered the Mavic Sprint in 'bolt blue' – an ‘everyday rain jacket with storm proven features’. Its RRP was £115.00, depending on where you read about it, but Ribble Cycles were selling limited sizes for £51.26. (£98.99 seems to be the going rate in actual fact, although that’s still listed as a reduction. £110 is cited as the RRP on the 2012 design, only available in two-tone black/green or white/black.) There appeared to be issues with the sizing, though – an inescapable reality when looking to order on-line – and, just as it was with the Solo jersey, the reviewers of this product were of the opinion that you should order a size up. However, the Mavic Size Chart implied that they were fully aware of these international vagaries, and the labels reflected that: an International Medium would be counter-labelled as a German/UK/American Small, and even as a Japanese Large. But no, the English reviewers reckoned you had to go up a size based on the German/UK/American designation. Again, the size chart revealed the existence of a German/UK/American XS and XXS, so I thought…  I thought I didn't fancy taking my chances and took a tour of all the cycling shops in my expanded area to find somewhere that stocked Mavic apparel, found a dealer not far from me, could see where the reviewers were coming from but reckoned that a German/UK/American Small would probably be about right. This was just as well because Ribble didn't stock a German/UK/USA medium – this was end-of-line kit, after all.

It was worth the bother because the Mavic Sprint is as nice an anorak as I've come across. I particularly liked what the Guardian had to say about it when they reviewed the product back in late 2009:

You wouldn't necessarily choose to wear it down the pub, but nor would you stick out too much if you did.

I’d choose to wear it down the pub, assuming it was raining, although that’s entirely contingent on it being “bolt blue”. I'm not sure what shade of blue ‘bolt’ really is, or how the (French) manufacturer, Mavic, chanced upon the phrase – was it a play on the idiom ‘a bolt from the blue’ perhaps? Anyway, the jacket is a shade reminiscent (no pun intended) of those old Peter Storm anoraks they made in the 1970s and 80s, and anyone of a certain age might appreciate the cachet. This means that if I choose to wear it with a pair of slim fitting black cords and some broken in desert boots I might vaguely resemble a member of a late 1980s indie-pop band, such as The Pastels. It’s not entirely why I bought it – I bought it because it was the least cycling-looking cycling jacket I could find of any quality at that price – but it’s nice to at least have the option.

            I think I like Mavic too. They’re more normally associated with the manufacture of wheels than they are apparel, but I like the sound of their name and I like the way it’s type-set. Best of all I like the little square sub-insignia they attach to their clothes: a black ‘M for Mavic’ set upon a yellow background, which contrasts very pleasingly against the bolt blue.