Bananaworld

Gavin & I went to Bracknell Forest & played in the woods:

I scared the poo out of me by doing a drop that was right at the limit of what both me & the bike are capable of.

I had a brilliant blast one Sunday afternoon to Goring & back. It was solo but it was really nice to get out:

Discovered some spooky woods on the way that will be absolutely chock with bluebells in a few weeks.

Gavin & I went to Ruislip Woods for the first time in a year. The Woods never dry out there, just get a bit less wet. It has been raining for a few days so it was sloppy as hell. I was on the mighty Orange P7 decked out with superb mud tyres from tyre-meisters Schwoblee. The bike was a dream! We rode in pooey mud:

Ride more I shall, mmm.

Around April 2002 I was working for Hillier Nurseries in their propagation department. It was a little dull but the people made the day go quickly and we had a laugh that summer. Anyway, that April Hillier's launched a foxglove called Digitalis 'Saltwood Summer' that was marketed to be "the next big thing". In preparation for this promotion there was quite a lot of sodding foxgloves in pots knocking around - 12,000 or so...

For two days, everyone that worked for Hillier's in Ampfield was employed with going through these plants to tidy off dead leaves and stick labels in the pots. It wasn't much fun, couldn't even dick around as much.

Guess what turned up on last week's Hillier delivery to Grovelands together with a promo board? Yup:

Mixed emotions, to say the least.

To do list:

1. Go to sleep.
   
   
2. Find a job which:
   
   
   
   • Involves no Danish Trolleys, pallet trucks or twatty "lifestyle" crap.
     
   • Isn't located next to farmland which is regularly sprayed with decomposing pig shit.
     
   • Requires more than standing around in the freezing cold whilst boredom swiss-cheeses my brain to a pulp.
   
   
   
3. [Further to the above] Somehow hasten the end of winter or, failing that, get myself into a situation where every moment from waking to unconciousness is not experienced at below-freezing temperatures. (Damn uninsulated flat!)
   
   
4. REALLY go to sleep...

A couple of Sundays ago took Team Bananaworld to its regular spinning ground of the Surrey Hills but this time not for maltloaf-munching atop the highest point of the North Downs. No, I went along for a Gorrick TrailTrax orienteering event. What a day was had...!

Team Bananaworld (well, me...) tried to press-gang various people into joining in, but success was not had so it was another solo mission. I did have the advantage of having accomodation (crucially: Weetabix) just a couple of stations away from Dorking at Sutton.

I woke up on the Sunday to pouring rain and a complete lack of waterproofs other than a wind-jacket. Woo hoo! I had a wet arse by the time I'd reached Sutton station, nevermind the 12km ride from Dorking station to get to the start of the event...

Well, it should have been twelve but ended up being sixteen or so as I may have taken a bit of a major wrong turn. In my defence I would like to point out that whilst a GPS is an extremely useful tool it is 'dumb' and can't account for every turn in the road. Definitely not user-error, oh no.

The rain continued to fall all the way to the pub at the start of the orienteer (is there a noun for it?) and I got jolly wet. The roads were covered in water and the little-used hilly country lanes were layered with sand & leaf-mould that made for interesting handling conditions.

I almost gave up at the point of getting lost before I'd even started, particularly with the fog getting worse & worse:

Steps to the summit of Leith Hill for those lazy enough to drive up there

Anyway I got there, registered, marked up my map and (single)sped away.

Along the way there featured: rain, hills, fog, mud, sandy mud, fog, sand, mud, wet sand, dense fog, sticky mud, muddy sticks, puddles, hills and absolutely no views of anything that was further away than twenty metres. I struggled up a few of the hills and got lost (despite having a GPS and a map) several times and arrived back 21 minutes late, which affected the results somewhat. The organisers had a good laugh at me through the window of the pub as a wrang out my gloves ready for the ride back to Dorking. (Chuckle, chuckle!) One hill that I'd come down twice that day but managed to avoid going up was saved for this final ride back to the station. It was sillyly steep and had little streams running down it amongst the muddy sand. I was determined not to push up it and reduced myself to a grunting, screaming gibbon as I swung the handlebars and hauled on the cranks. I must have looked a bit of a muppet, though I had checked noone was around before attempting to keep pedalling (I can occasionally maintain some pride). Hellish experience.

Had a laugh that day though, particularly at fellow contestants taking it a little too seriously and people roaring around peaceful roads in their 4x4s, completely disconnected from the country around them.

I met Gavin, Jackie & Stephan (from Evans) at Dorking station. They hadn't got there early enough to go orienteering but had had a good ride and were also comically covered in wet sand and flopping around in soggy shoes. Much comparing of notes was done, but the conclusions were all the same: soggyness, heh heh heh.

But anyway, the overall verdict...

What a great ride! Despite having no feeling in my feet (oh for a pair of Sealskinz!) and my saddle containing more water than my CamelBak it was truly a worthwhile experience. Without getting too philosophical & twattish, it was one of those days that you really feel you accomplished a feat of physical & mental endurance. Ok, I may not have been in any danger of dying but fun was had and sometimes you can't ask for much more than that.

"Can I have hundreds 'n' thousands please?"

Shhh.

I'm ashamed to say that it took me more than a week to get around to cleaning my bike, though I am a little bit proud of the fact that Cindy The Singlespeed Cinder Cone stood in the kitchen for the duration, slowly shedding sand. I guess there is something to be said for living alone... ;-)

Mmmmm, mud and cinder...

A couple of weeks ago I had an experience that scared me. I might go so far as to say it was the most scary thing to ever happen to me. It wasn't spooky or mysterious and was over in a fraction of a second but I will never forget the feeling of fear-induced adreneline telling me that that was a close one. Quite simply I was pootling across Hyde Park Corner when a mahoossive coach bound for Oxford overtook me at great speed literally inches from the right hand end of my handlebars. I get overtaken by motor veehickles on a pretty much constant basis but this was different. The suddenness of its approach & pass made me jump though it was the feeling of what-might-have-happened immediately following within a second that really got my heart fluttering and made my arms weak and my stomach sick.

I thought I'd recount a couple of the other fearful monents of my life. The interesting thing is that I found them scary for very different reasons...

When I was about fourteen I went potholing down an ancient iron ore mine in the Forest Of Dean. It was amazing to be in a perfectly dark place with just our helmet lights for illumination. We scrambled up, over, around and through; completely unlike any other cave experience I'd had; some of the tunnels had to be crawled through on our bellies with the ceiling grazing our helmets. One such passage required a turn from feet to head-first and then a left-hand/vertical wriggle up a tiny vein in the rock. The adults in the party with us were advised to take an alternatice route...! I was crawling up when I became wedged. My shoulders, hips & battery-pack were all stuck fast. At first it wasn't a concern as instinct took over: when confined in such a way, such as in a bear-hug, our instinctive reaction is to expand and force out our shoulders & arms. That was when the fear hit. My shoulders & arms encountered no give at all. Well, how could they? The realisation hit that I was surrounded by the Earth, by completely unmoveable rock and that no amount of struggling would be able to loosen the grip it had on me.

A year-and-a-bit ago I entered the first of my two downhill races. It wasn't down the side of a massive mountain or anything, just a vaguely descending bit of Kent with a run that would be finished in a little over a minute. Penshurst features a bigish & slightly rickety start ramp to get the downhill going with riders starting their descents as soon as the previous rider has crossed the finish line. It was at the top of this ramp that I had my biggest ever attack of the butterflies. I've had butterflies a few times, usually down to there being people around watching me 'perform' at something. The difference was that where bashing my bongoes with Voodoo Alien carries with it the penalty of ridicule should I mess up, getting it wrong whilst racing involves not only the risk of peoples' disdain but the very real danger of using my face as a brake. I think it was the waiting that really did it: waiting there at the top of the ramp knowing that the "go" is coming at any second shortly followed by a minute of my life where getting it tits-up is not an option.

This blog is usually about current affairs (not worldly current affairs, just things going on in my little life) which doesn't leave much room for me to scribble down events from the past; either before this blog's inception, or just things that weren't recorded at the time. How am I gonna remember this stuff when my brain is jellificationified? Exactly! I won't. And so we turn to the everlasting omnipotence that is the Internet. Hoorah.

(Nota bene - Other random stuff will sneak its way into here and the sheer volume of junk & events-only-relevant-to-me may well render this category a wee bit dull. You bin warned.)

#1 - Gatwick Airport & The Orange Brompton: An Inseperable Union

I've been to Gatwick Airport a few times in the last year. The first time was when Rich dropped me off there on the 15th of May on the way back from the L2B Mini Run for me to catch a train home. Less than a week later, on the 20th of May, I was back at Gatwick. The HQ of Evans Cycles is just a couple of miles away and I was there for a day's training from (coincidentally) Brompton on the subject of their new range of (extremely shiny) bikes.

So what? Well, on none of these occasions did I arrive or leave by heavier-than-air flight but on EVERY occasion I found myself there with my Orange Brompton. Who needs a passport?

And whilst I'm on the subject of Evans let's etch down about the time I went for Garmin GPS & Memory Map training at the Royal Geographical Society. What a fun day off work that was! I turned up at this posh building in Kensington to be confronted by hordes of Evans employees' hack bikes chained up all over the place, heh heh heh. We, and a few peeps from other outdoorsy-type shops (Blacks, Cotswold, etc.), were there to have a new system that we'd be selling demonstrated to us (and to eat their biscuits & drink their oh-jay). After a long introduction we were turned loose in Kensington Gardens to have thrust upon us the awesome power of GPS. We wandered around in the drizzle for a bit, didn't get lost and were suitably awed. Good fun, and I bought a GPS unit that very day.

[[Random stuff alert!]] Ignore the rest of this entry, it's just a public service exercise. I can't find the lyrics for this rather good tune anywhere on the internet so here they are, transcribed for your plaisir:

Cast - Hold On lyrics

When I turn to recognise you,
Well I could not see the sun was in my eyes
And I turn to try and tell you,
But I could not speak the words they locked inside

She said hold on, hold on, just hold on to me
She said hold on, hold on, just hold on to me
Hold on to me if you can

When I turn to look towards you
Well I could not see the world was in my eyes
When I try to think about you
Well I could not think the world turns in my mind

She said hold on, hold on, just hold on to me
She said hold on, hold on, just hold on to me
Hold on to me if you can

Hold on, hold on
Hold on, ho-old on

Hold on to me x14

Hold on to me to me to me to me...

[[Warned y'all it'd get random!]]

Things are slightly more positive here since the last entry, this author is pleased to report. Not a great deal has actually changed, other than a state of mind, so I guess that's all there is to it really! At the time a couple of poo things had recently happened, but they're history now. Since then, good things have happened, not least...

Eastbourne!

I am compelled, when by the sea, to go for a paddle, no matter what season:

It was painfully cold...

I know there are those amongst you who doubt the attraction of Eastbourne and its comical old-person connotations, but I urge you to go. It would have the perfect English coastal atmosphere in the summer (rusty pier; screaming kids; melting ice-creams; fat, sunburnt, whale-like chavs etc.) and it's very peaceful in the winter.

So a weekend away helped matters, and cycling, vegan-food-munching & bongo-playing all make me happier, but let's not forget all the people that have helped me feel better lately. My mum's been lovely & her telling me that she's proud of me for not a soulless, pursuit-of-cash job was a big boost; dad's been supportive & jolly, as ever; Jon's great & always good for a laugh :-); friends are all marvellous; Voodoo Alien rocks; Rich is cool & knows what to say.

But enough of that! I'm afraid I can't be all positive in this entry. No, I may be feeling better, but the world still stinks. Not that it has to stink: I've had a flick through a little book that many of you will know, Rough Guide To A Better World, and it really does make one think. There's bits from Bob Geldof and the message that really comes through from him is that it's simply not right for so many people in the world to be living such poo lives.

That's all there is to it really, when you get through to the very centre of the issue. Why the hell are so many people suffering? (I don't think the words I am able to articulate can express this strongly enough.) All I can see is that there are people in the world that get paid obscene amounts of money; others who are just want to wreck stuff; others that delight in the suffering of their fellows; others who just out to better their lives and to hell with anyone else; still others who want want want and want it now; and countless legions of people who don't even once pause to consider that there are other people sharing the planet with them.

What can we do? Sure we can send our money off to charities to help those who suffer, but that's such a minor little thing really ("drop in the ocean" anyone?) and I don't pretend to know the real solution, but we all have to live in this world together, no matter what your beliefs, and though we may only be here for a short time, we can't just cruise through our lives without doing anything.

I may have rambled & ranted, but I do have a message and a favour to ask: go out and better Earth. I'm not saying that we should all go and dig wells in Africa & immunise little kiddies in India, just pick up a bit of litter here & there, get some exercise, eat less over-packaged fast food, hold a door open, decline a carrier bag at the checkout, say good morning to a stranger, be a little less arrogant to those in the service industry, appreciate a green space, drive a bit slower in residential areas, and so on.

Yeah, these are little things but if we ALL (and I do mean all) do little things it'll add to the sum of "good" in the world and things will get better.

(Intermission) Think

We continue...

As mentioned in my last entry, I got a new digital camera! My dear ma & pa very kindly bought me a clever little Sony number and it's cool. The first thing I took a picture of with it was my beloved old camera:

Very battered, but still going strong. it will continue to be used in situations where a shinier camera could not go...

And so to dear Grovelands: I've had an especially poo time at work lately. It's cold (but I can deal with that using thermal pants) and hard work (but Weetabix can deal with that), it's just the ungrateful management that can't be dealt with. How can a group of men with such "power" over a group of employees inspire so little respect and still run a business? Ho hum.

With this in mind I am forced to contemplate the future, and it is not really a future at Grovelands. A chat with good ol' Rich has opened my eyes to more options and the fact that, yes, there is potential in the horticulture industry. I will find a decent job soon!

Good night, one and all, and remember: a better world is up to us, not our "elected" "leaders"!

Ooh bugger, it's late...

After continuing efforts I've made the best flapjack so far: add tasty, tasty mixed-spice into the mixture and then dust with plenty of extra sugar prior to baking. Mmmmm...

The next batch will feature chocolate! Even more mmmmmm...

Last Sunday saw Team Bananaworld's first action since the IOW rambling expedition and its first competitive event since the ill-fated enduro last May; I went a-racing!

Yes, I returned to the venue of my first ever mountain bike race at Yately Heath to compete in a good ol' Gorrick XC race. I was feeling like doing a few laps so went in for the Open category at three laps, though I kept telling myself that I was only doing it for a laugh and I was to treat it as just another ride in the woods. I went round a practice lap and initially my legs were not having it. I blamed it on having just ridden up from Blackwater station and persevered.

It paid off! What a great course it was. I soon got into the swing of things and when the race started I was well away. The first two laps went very well indeed and I was doing quite well, but things went a little tits on the third lap when it became clear that I wasn't quite ready for a solid hour and a half of race-pace. That third lap took me slightly longer, as the results show, and I dropped a few places but I did finish and it felt good. I wasn't sure of my place as I didn't have the energy to hang around for the results to come through but when I checked them in the evening I'd done a lot better than I'd been expecting to: 55th in a field of 100 (86 finishers); and so done the denizens of Bananaworld proud.

I'm still not sure if I like competing. I go along to the races as the courses are always jolly well done & lotsa fun. The problem, like so many things in life, is other people. Most of my fellow riders are decent folk who, like me, are out there for a laugh, but there is a minority of people who take it all far too seriously. Yeah, it's a race and we're there to compete, but it's weird & pathetic when they swear at every little hold-up on the course and curse when riders are bunched together and so pushing up the climbs early on in the race.

Anyway, as I say, it's darn good fun! (It's just lucky the station was downhill or I may not have got home...)

Here's my favourite photo from the day, taken by Les Taylor:

I think it nicely captures the glorious weather that inspired so many people to come and have a bash. You can also make out my reddened cheeks - possibly from the cold, or more likely from a lack of race-readiness...

Funky course; wonderful weather; punctual trains to & from; lovely company at breakfast before the race; amazing bike; tasty post-race maltloaf: great day!

Next Sunday will be a slightly more relaxed & comical (singlespeed...) affair as Team Bananaworld heads down to Surrey for an orienteering Trailtrax event. Should be a lot of fun!

Woo hoo! Go Team Bananaworld! (etc...)

Thanks to our 'sponsors': Weetabix; Kona (despite riding a Specialized on the day...); Morrison's BettaBuy maltloaf.