Spokeshirts Blog

ROUGH RIDE
My often damaged ribs were getting better, legs were strong, so I headed for the Marin Rough Ride last weekend with a glint in my eye and a spring in my step. I knew it was going to be tough – 7000 feet of climbing over 75km is a not an easy option. So, three of us joined the other 997 on the start line in blistering sunshine, lathered in suncream and slowly set off over the moors of Radnorshire. We got to the cut off point and the other two decided that an early beer was a good idea, and chose the short route. I am profoundly stupid and chose the long route. After half an hour the heavens opened, and stayed open for another 3 hours. I got wet, and when I could get no wetter, I got muddy.
After plodding along for a very long time I saw the 5km to go sign and got all excited. So excited that I went over the bars into a massive gorse bush. A nice Frenchman pulled me out – without laughing too. What’s the French for tw*t? Thirty seconds later I went over the bars again, but this time into heather. Not Heather. That’s rude. Unfortunately the bike landed on me this time. A bloke on a white Cannondale pulled me out of Heather. Sorry, the heather.
I swore quite a bit. I finished, eventually. The other two hadn’t even seen rain. I swore a bit more.
My legs look like I’ve interefered with an angry porcupine, and my knee looks like this. But I still enjoyed it.

NEW SHIRT
Took a while to do the artwork, but here it is.
And at £10 too. Four colour combinations. Two if you’re colour blind.

Where’s the newsletter been?
Bristol. We had a stand at the Bike fest, and I even managed a couple of cheeky laps on a borrowed Merida (thanks Martin).
This weekend we’re heading to the York Rally. In York. It’s a long way but I’ve packed spare pants.

WISE WORDS
Never hit a man with glasses. Hit him with a baseball bat.

MORE RIB TICKLING FUN
If you’re wondering why I didn’t reply to your emails on Wednesday, it’s because I was sweating like a Council Employee after the Election half way up a hill in Afan, Welshland. Six of us spent the day there, and five and a half of us came back. I managed to leave a large proportion of my skin on a rock coming through the appropriately named ‘Graveyard’. If you’re going through that section and see a hairy rock, say hello. I’ve damaged my ribs for the second time in 6 months, but the good news is that this time it’s on video. Oh joy.

MOJITO
A brilliant Bank Holiday weekend drink. Ride responsibly, and drink fast. Thanks to Nigella.
INGREDIENTS

1 teaspoon sugar
1 lime cut into four wedges
4 mint leaves
1 sprig of mint
2 ounces Rum
2 ounces club soda
Place the mint leaves into a long mojito glass (often called a “collins” glass) and squeeze the juice from a cut lime over it. You’ll want about two ounces of lime juice, so it may not require all of the juice from a single lime. Leave the lime wedges in the glass. Add the sugar, then gently smash the mint into the lime juice and sugar with a muddler. Or a stick. Add ice (preferably crushed) then add the rum and stir, and top off with the club soda. Garnish with a mint sprig.

NEW SHIRT
Hitting Granny. A new design for the summer – get out, find a hill and hit your granny. Three colour combinations to choose from.

WISE WORDS
Better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt.

RADIO
This week I made the terrifying discovery that there is actually a worse DJ than the sycophantic fool that is Steve Wright. Not lovin’ the show. You wouldn’t believe what I’d be willing to stick in my ears to avoid listening to him. But, upping the ante a couple of notches, up steps Chris Tarrant. I have never heard such a pompous chimp (avoiding swear words or this newsletter will get wedged in your spam filters), and to add insult to aural injury his first diatribe was aimed at cyclists “and I thought, look mate, my car weight three and a half tons (2 tons of this is probably ego) who’s going to win?”. Well Chris, I’d give it a shot. Don’t phone a friend, you haven’t got any. Glad I got that off my chest.

HOUMOUS
Having lived briefly in the Middle East (until border control got involved) I have learnt the ways of houmous and I’m a firm believer that ice cream is about the only thing you shouldn’t dip into it.
So, this weekend, out on the bike, back for a cold beer and BBQ, earn massive brownie points / kudos by knocking up the best homemade dip known to man. Or woman. Now dip.
225g chickpeas, soaked overnight and boiled for an hour (or 2-3 cans of ready steady cheating person’s chickpeas)
3 tbs olive oil
4 tbs tahini
Juice of two medium lemons
3-4 cloves of garlic
Salt & Pepper
Blend everything, add 150ml of cooking liquor, a pinch of cayenne pepper and a good sprinkle of paprika. Blend again until smooth. Dip again.

PERFECTION
People that have read this newsletter before will know that I am verging on perfect*. I live in a huge mansion* with about 15 children** because I am hugely virile***. My wife is a 20 year old swimwear**** model who wear kneepads****** at all times in case she is needed.

That said, I make mistakes. And so does my wife. On occasion we’ll print up a shirt by mistake and spend the following 10 minutes blaming each other, then we resort to insulting each other under our breath and doing a V sign when backs are turned. Grown up stuff I’m sure you’ll agree, but we end up with a box of unwanted t shirts constantly reminding us our inadequacies. To shift this pile we’ve put them all online for £7.50 each including delivery – when they’re gone they’re gone. Who am I kidding – there’ll be another pile in 3 months time. Have a look here.

*Almost true
** ASBOs
*** Catholic
**** Corn plaster
****** boxing gloves

BRISTOL BIKE FEST.
We’ll have a trade stand at the Bike Fest, so come along (with your wallet).

REASONS.
Sorry for the lack of newsletters lately – I won’t let it happen again. My other job has been keeping me busy but it seems to have calmed down a bit now. Being Gordon Brown’s speech writer can be very time consuming – and I told him to say ‘halibut’ not bigot.

NO SNOW.
The dry weather has seen my riding group swell from a hardcore of 5-6 riders to 10-12 regulars. It’s always a pleasure to have new people to rant at, and there’s always more punctures to repair which doubles up as a cake stop. Expect massive weight gain due to these fair weather pansies. To shift some of this weight I’ll be doing the Marin Rough Ride next month. If you fancy coming along to kick me off you can have a look here.

NEW SHIRTS
Two very different designs. Firstly a rehash of an old design. I’m incredulous that BP can ruin the Gulf of Mexico, but will undoubtedly still post record profits. Unbelievable.
Secondly, welcome the bike pirate. Printed on a new coloured shirt, paprika red. You’ll like it.

£10 Shirt.
The eagle eyed amongst you will have spotted that the hell shirt is £10. For the one eye’d fools amongst you (hello Gordon), here’s the link.

Cycling top tips. No2.
next time you’re out on your bike take a tin bath and about 4 or 5 gallons of water in plastci containers. In the event of a flat tyre this will help you locate any punctures you may have.
Andy Hodgson, Manchester.

HONC’d
Last Sunday I got up very early. Way too early. Iwas the first person to register at 7.01am. Yes I have learnt my lesson. My preparations started badly I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear.
I cleaned out my Camelbak on the Saturday and left it to dry on the garden bench. My sick cat, who’d been dripping from both ends for days, decided it looked comfy and curled herself up on it for a sleep.
By the time I saw her the tube was ‘kissing’ her business end. I washed that mouthpiece like a man possessed, but everytime I took a slurp on Sunday I got the faint taste of second hand Whiskas.
The ride itself was awesome. Have a look for yourself.

Easter.
Hope you had a good one. We spend a fortune on Chocolate for our kids, wait for them to go to bed and then eat the lot. Then we blame each other when we’re rumbled. Oh, the joys of parenthood. Theft, chocolate, wind and bickering.

The Sun.
No, not the top class family newspaper, but the near forgotten yellow thing in the sky. This weekend promises to be a warm one. and the perfect apparel would seem to be a t shirt.
Monday will see your work colleagues wandering around saying ‘I didn’t think it was warm enough to need suncream’ and then wincing through their grotesquely burnt faces.

£10 Shirt.
The Alpe D’Huez. £10 to cover up the stomach you accquired at Christmas and thought might have evaporated on its own by now.

SPORT RELIEF VIDEO
It’s very easy to mock the stars who recently did John O’Groats to Land’s End recently – support buses, masseurs on demand* , no luggage, fresh, clothing every day, free kit, did I mention the masseurs? But the reality is that they raised more in the first 4 miles that I did in 975miles, so good on them. Highlights here. My paltry effort here.
* I offered, they refused, and then the restraining orders started hitting the doormat.

Some people have a lot of time on their hands.

This time of year farmers across the land are ploughing their fields to plant new crops for the year. Some use tractors, Mel uses his chin.