G Up

When we decided to use the Mule as the symbol of our cycling group there were a number of obvious influences.
An offspring of a male donkey and a female horse, the mule has evolved over time.

They are considered more patient, sure-footed, hardy and long-lived than horses
Less obstinate, faster, and more intelligent than donkeys.

We likened this equine beauty to our cycles, a beast of burden to carry ourselves and our internal saddlebags - away from the conventional routes of life.
To be obedient, responsive and to go where directed.

Unlike our historical pioneers who used the mule practically to their full potential,  my literary route was seemingly not so comprehensive.

Mules feature more commonly in Southern American Literature than any other creature.
Characteristically they meet their demise by a variety of different ways, which is often integral to the storyline.
Overwork, asphyxiation, drowning, beating, gunshot, train collisions, even decapitation by an opera singer have all featured.

In "Blood Meridian" written by Cormac McCarthy - 59 specific mules are killed and dozens of other mules die in a plunge off a cliff.
Truman Capote's also gets all 'Muled up' in his racy "Other Voices, Other Rooms,"
His poor Mule named John Brown is found hanging from a chandelier in a dilapidated antebellum mansion with a spittoon tied to its leg.

Seemingly it is acceptable to write about Mule hardships - a trait that is not lost on some of our riders.

Left to Right - Bobby,Duncan, Philip, Manuel, Simon, Neale, Craig, John and Mark S

Every July Beverley host its own Sportive called the Big G

Now all sky supporters will know that 'G' is the nick name for Geraint Thomas (No Immediate link)

Well 'G' broke his pelvis on the first week of Le Tour yet he continued to ride.

From that moment on the Expression 'Man Up' became redundant replaced by 'G' up.

This was a great sense of irony as The Big G does require some of Geraints attitude

The 160Km (110 mile) route starts and finishes in the historic market town of Beverley, the home base of the UK Mules.

It covers the best roads in the Yorkshire Wolds featuring many of the toughest climbs used in the East Yorkshire Classic and the 2006 & 2007 National Road Race Championships.

Featured climbs include Life Hill (Sledmere), Fimber, Wharram Percy Wold, Birdsall Brow, Thixendale Wold, Hanging Grimston, Acklam Brow, Great Givendale and Nunburnholme.

These all add up to nearly 8,000 feet of climbing with very few flat bits.

The Guys saw the Camera before me and tried to jostle me out of the shot
BAD MULES

So I crossed over and sneaked up the outside

Sun Glasses hide the pain

After 80 Miles we came to the last major climb of Nunburnholme, not the steepest by any means but it comes at a time when your legs are very heavy.

Whilst we were going up and down our US Mules were going straight and Fast in Katty Flatlands

Paddy tells the tale:-
This years Katy Flatlands saw the ride change its course significantly both from a start location and the actual route itself. Most of the route was reasonably decent but there were sections that could see many of the Mule riders visiting the dentist in the next few days.


The Ride started out from Cinco Ranch High School and much excitement was in the air with the knowledge that our MULES "Summer" Strip had finally arrived and was being auditioned for the first time at the "Starters Gate". As usual our stable was located in PRIME TIME location - Right next to the start.

The Katy Flatlands has always attracted the a good showing and as the MULES ranks grow so does our participation in these events which saw us eclipse the 20 Rider mark for the second time this year.

The start looked interesting with Lightning, and dark clouds looming over the direction to which we were heading and before long rooster tails from the Mule train resembled the actions of a 200 yard car wash, --- All Foam, Froth & Spray!!

We started fast - As we do! And remarkably held it all together for at least 45 miles when Lee had a flat tire. At this juncture we decided to split allowing the 100 Mile riders to get going while the 65 mile (Yes RIGHT) riders to wait for Lee.

As it happened the 65 Mile riders took a wrong turn and ended up doing 95 Miles and showed their true strength and combative spirit. Special Shouts to Ivonne & Armando who both shattered their personal bests.

The sun baked down on wet roads and created a Turkish bath like atmosphere which overwhelmed Paddy & Barry who both suffered from Cramping & the effects of Heat.
In the end everyone finished what they set out to achieve and the "Afters" saw an abundance of Adult beverages consumed and the ride remembered with laughter.....and tears.

GREAT RIDE!!

Waves to Wine - The Grapes of Wrath

In John Steinbecks heralded Novel 'The grapes of Wrath' he traces the fortune of the Joad family.

They travel  from Oklahoma to California leaving behind them their arid flat lands which have turned into a dust bowl.

There journey takes them in search of 'better' land on which to till and toil, and ply their trade.

Like most of Stienbecks work, the richness of this novel is as much  to do with the characters as it has to do with the story. He not only takes the reader on a physical journey across the United States but traces out the respective internal journeys of his subjects.

He lets us feel their pain, their anguish and sometimes their desperation.

Having spent much of my life travelling, both geographically and emotionally, I like Steinbecks literary inspiration.

For me any journey of consequence, is an adventure.
The more 'bolt ons' the bigger the adventure.
Often the experience can become ingrained inside you and deliver up long lasting multiple emotions.
Mostly positive, but other times, as in the case of the Joad Family things don't quite live up to their expectations.

In September there was mini migration of Mules following a similar ambition.
For us it was to take part in a two day charity ride called 'Waves to Wine'.
No ordinary journey - but from San Fransisco way up into the wine region over some big lumps on the way !!!!!!

The Mules came from afar.
Some from the arid flat lands of Houston, but others from further a field, China, Boston, and for myself Beverley in East Yorkshire.

Like the Joads we set out to California to find something different, something life changing, something spectacular.

In the Grapes of Wrath Steinbeck introduces his own Mule of sorts in his character- Muley Graves.
Muley is stuborn, he sees the attraction of moving, but fears the unknown and ultimately remains in Oklahoma.
How many times in your life do you say 'I wish I didn't go?
How many times do you say 'Awwwwwwww I wish that I had gone ?'

Its curious, as I get older, experience would traditionally dictate that I take less risks.
I'd be expected to look for my pipe and slippers, before my cleated shoes and helmet.
But putting tradition aside 'Experience' can also be liberating.
It teaches you that you must grasp things sometimes, or the chance will be gone for ever.

Like San Fransisco, I prefer my life with peaks and troughs - rather than stagnating in the flat lands


And so for the trip.......
As the plane swooped down over the surrounding mountains and made its final approach I could see the land on one side and the sea the other.
Fish nets and Fruit Trees,
Trawlers and Telecom Industries,
Wine and Waves.
Good name choice for the ride I chuckled to myself

Walking the streets of San Fransisco was certainly different from Houston.

For a start - there were pavements that you could walk on.

Secondly, you did not feel like you should be carrying a tin full of coins and carrying a plaque.
I'm sure you would have seen it - drawing attention to the fact that your dog was ill and that you had not eaten for a week.

Lastly when you walk in SF you are accompanied by others, hundreds of them - a living rainbow of diversity.

Cosmopolitan with a big Capital C.

With limited time to fully explore I found my 2nd visit ending like my first.

With a mental note to myself - demanding a future visit.

Us  Mules  turned our wheels at 7am on a Saturday Morning in late September.
We left San Fransisco along the Coast towards the 'GGB' as we affectionately called it.
By rights its burnt ochre structure should have been shrouded in fog or low cloud, but sensing our arrival it decided to show off.

The wind was turned off, the morning light intensified, and the clouds were chased off towards the horizon.

The Golden Gate was golden alright.
In its true majesty, It strutted across the watery void like an arrogant king.

As I crossed the divide I enveloped it and tried to memorise every second..
I knew what I was experiencing was a big tick, very close to the top of my bucket list.

After crossing the bridge we dropped down into Sausalito hugging the shoreline up Richardson Bay.

The water was so close you could smell the seaweed.

By this time the Morning coolness had departed and as the sun warmed our shoulders.
The calm waters provided an alluring aquatic invitation.

Thankfully I was strong willed, so my wheels remained dry. 

We followed Highway 1 north of Sausalito before turning north, towards Stinson Beach.

Not wanting to delude myself, I knew there was some real cycling to do before we might get sand in our shoes.

Ahead of us was 2,571 feet of rock in the form of - Mount Tamalpais

The only way was up, made possible by a steady succession of switchbacks.
Prior to the ride we had all promised to stick together as much as we could, but accepted that when it came to the climbs we all had to go at our own pace.
After watching Charles move steadily away from me and Lee come alongside, I remained focused and tried to keep a comfortable rhythm whilst being as relaxed as I could.
On the switch backs I was forced out of my  saddle much to Paddys annoyance by neglecting my domestique duties.

Even though it was tough - I loved the climbing, the scenery was  breath taking.
With constant turns and switchbacks there seemed to be a visual gift behind every corner.

Although some of my fellow Mules (The antipodeans)  were great climbers this was not really their territory, they were more used to the Texas flat lands.
Going up was great but coming down was very Technical.
It was like flirting with the devils daughter, exciting but F**king dangerous, and I flirted like mad.
I am sure my fellow riders 35 mph descent was thrilling and very exhilarating.

My 48 mph roller coaster ride to Stinson beach was just plain bonkers.
It was also by far the greatest cycling experience of my life.
Yes even better than my chance encounter with meeting Bradley Wiggins.

The rest of the day was tough. It got hotter and hotter and as we moved inland the lush green turned to  a scorched arid terrain. The climbs came thick and fast and we reassembled to look after one another.
Charles asked Paddy sympathetically  'How you doing mate did you go into the red Zone.
Paddy replied solemnly. 'Charlie..........I have never left the red zone.'

By own support for Sam also back-fired.
As we climbed the wall in the Midday sun Sam very flatteringly used me as a pace maker.
At one point she started to slip back so realising I was close to the top, encouragement was the obvious course of action.
Come on Sam I cried....nearly at the top.

Moments later I reached the visual crest only to see the road rise up again even steeper.

The smile on her face lasted only a few seconds, as I finished my first sentence.
Sam........Its not the top.

As we moved closer to the finish the thought of beer came to mind.....Cold Beer.

Not far away.

In such a momentary lapse of concentration I failed to see what could only be described as a small chasm on the road in front of me.
My last minute bunny hop only made things worse as my back wheel landed in the hole.
It was my first puncture for the year but I was in good company.

The hazard took a number of scalps as a samll posse assembled around, rider after rider cursing the highway agency.

It did not stop there after we had got going we then had puncture after puncture.

I felt guilty. Obviously I was jinxed by my earlier downhill dalliances with the devil and brought a curse upon the Mules.

Eventually we made it 104 miles of love and hate, pain and pleasure........Waves and maybe a few drops of wine.

On the journey I made some great new friends, not only my fellow riders of Charlie, Lee, Sam, John, and Dave but also BJ and Sonni who without there help in transporting our gear the trip would not have happened.

They also did 'Intel' checks on the beer and Vineyards.

Now thats what I call support.

Sonni from Aus is also a blogist who writes about Houston and what attractions you can find on and off the beaten track. Its called Finding Houston

When I was not drinking or cycling Sonni and I bored everyone else talking about writing.

She also tried to make sure I had a hangover every morning.

Thank you Girls

Guilt free shopping

After months of training it is now close to action time with my first Sportive next Sunday.

Its a 90 mile sojourn around West Yorkshire, starting at Harewood.

This is organised by Evans cycle retailers and is part of the Evans 'Ride it' series.

As well as looking forward to the ride, I am also interested in evaluating its organisation, as I have never ridden in an Evans 'ride it' series before.

I will be joined by two new Anglo Mules :- Bobby and Mark who keep me fit as I try and hang on to their back wheels.

The beautiful Harewood House

As it is the first proper event of my cycling calender I wanted to make sure that I looked as smart as possible to do the 'Anglo Mules' proud, so decided to invest in some new bibshorts. Ones which could be colour coordinated with my Mule Jersey.

When I looked at what was on offer and the price range, the ones I really wanted just happened to be the more expensive type.

Naturally I had to set that in balance with my newly adopted recession induced, frugal lifestyle.

The result was NO new bib shorts.

Whichever way I looked at it there was no justification for the cost.

So with a sad face it was out with the needle and cotton to darn last years worn garments.

As I punctured my thumb with the sowing needle for the 8th time my white top was starting to take on the appearance of 'The king of the mountains shirt' with circular red blood spots strategically staining the surface.

It was at that point that I had an epiphany.

If my car ever needed a new tyre I would replace it

If it needed gas I would fill it up.

The same would apply for water, oil, and other more specialised fluids.

If the brake pads/discs needed changing or even a costly new cam belt.....my hand would reluctantly go into my pocket without a moments hesitation.

When the garage was paid Id mutter at the cost and kick my heels.

You never actually get something you can love for your money.

My car is rarely used now although it is kept for essential journeys - like taking by bike to events!!!!!!

With soaring fuel prices I actually save over £100 per month by using my bike through commuting.

The propulsion mechanism is in fact myself........me!!!!!!!!!

I am the engine.

You don't see many cars travelling down the road with their pistons exposed or with the bonnet open.....its totally unheard of.

Engines should be suitably covered at all times!!!

I'm sure there is a law that says so.

So within moments my New Castelli bibshorts were ordered.

Please note, they are not fancy cycle wear

They are my engine casing.

An essential part of human combustion.