The Italian Job Part 2

Set off for Brescia at 7am for the penultimate stage of the Giro to make sure we are there before all the road closures occur. First real sunny day of the trip. Followed by a police car which made the atmosphere a little tense in the Fiat Panda (See last blog entry).

The city was waking up and the barracades being assembled, and after a short stroll I made base camp on the finish line armed with sandwiches and beer. I wasnt the only English speaker on the home straight who was staking their claim to see Cavendish sprint to the Maglia Rosso - A Scottish couple Claire & Neal, couple of younger back packers and an Aussie.

As the day moved on, a cavalcade of promotional trucks bedecked with high heeled promo girls slowly meandered around the streets throwing hats bags and bananas of all things to the crowd. As a natural ginger I was wilting in the Italian sun, but I was determined to see the finish at close quarters. As was a 12 year old child who started to muscle in on my pitch. Her parents were behind me egging her on. If she was a bloke she'd have had  a good slap by now, but I stood my ground for a couple of hours before capitulating 12 inches of space at the barrier. As the race neared Brescia, her mother was getting far to up close and personal for my liking, as was her father. I didn't need my google translate app to explain that I was going nowhere - I did it in the good old fashioned "Englishman abroad" way, ie talking loudly and slowly while gesticulating at them like a lunatic.

Well back to the race - while the Italian family clambered all over me the entire pelaton came in as one. With Cavendish at the front! I hoped he realised that there were 7 laps of the city. It was obvious he was trying to stay out of trouble on this highly technical course. Omega team mates eventually got in front of Cav to give him a bit of support and the crowd went wild. A text book lead out ensued and Cav blasted his way to the front on the final straight. No one came near touching him and the celebrations began as soon as crossed the line. As the Italians behind me were Cavendish fans I forgave them for trying to evict me from my pitch, and we were all one happy gang of cycling fanatics.

An emotional Nibali took his trophy and sat resplendent on a gaudy looking pink throne. Cavendish picked up his Maglia Rosso. A fantastic achievement, one of a handful of riders to win the points jersey in all 3 Grande Tours. Possibly the greatest sprinter in ever, we were witnessing history in the making. Nibali was a worthy champion - I take no pleasure in saying this but I really dont think a fit Wiggins would have got near him. Nibali rode with passion, he rode with heart he rode in a manner alien to Wiggins and the Sky team who operate by numbers and playing the percentages. Nothing wrong with that but no where near as entertaining.

 If you take a look at the pic of Cav, black tshirt silver watch leaning over barricade - THATS ME!

And now its announced that Wiggo is out of the TDF. Probably for the best, whether he's injured or not. The way that Sky operate, they need a definitive leader and a committed team. Wiggins was a complication they could have done without.

My Italian job - A Giro of Gargantuan Proportions

Well the adventure started at Birmingham airport when a shed load of 10 year old Pontypool Rugby Juniors climbed aboard the plane and the ones behind us decided to let rip with a thunderous fart which curdled my coffee.
 
Fairly uneventful flight, but found upon landing that Nibali had screamed through the 19.45km that was the uphill time trial stage 18 of the Giro d’Italia. Chapeau Vincenzo, you are doing your country proud. Unlike that is, the complete dickhead that is Danilo De Luco, ‘the killer’ has effectively snuffed out his cycling career - facing a lifetime ban after being found positive for drugs! AGAIN!

Enough is enough, lifetime bans all around are the only way to go, and the only way that is going to eradicate this disease.

Milan Bergarno airport, Hertz rental – “Sorry mister Ward you cant drive because your fax from DVLA confirming you have lost your driving licence has not been received” Jayne you’ll have to drive. An hour later after a nerve shredding journey on the motorway, I decided I would rather take my chances with the law by driving myself, insured or not.

It wasn’t that hard driving on the “wrong side” of the road, I only shot across 2 junctions the wrong way, and managed a great emergency stop at an island when I was about to go left instead of right.

Italy, specifically the Manerba area was serene in the spring sunshine. Gilberto (my friends dad, who owns the place) took us to our apartment and with the aid of google translate on the phone, told us what was working and what wasn’t. It didn’t matter that the gas heating wasn’t, as the weather was so mild we were sure not to use it.

While sampling the local fare at a nearby pizzeria the mother of all thunderstorms raised its head over the adjacent dolomites and proceeded to drown the town. Temperatures dropped and our night’s sleep was anything but, because of the rapidly forming icicles on our noses.

Up at about noon, feeling a bit despondent – A quick hot shower thawed the mood. Unfortunately the weather was appalling.

It was no different in the mountains where stage 19 was cancelled due to heavy snow and torrential rain. It was the right decision because the descents would have been suicide!

I drove us down to the banks of Lake Garda to find a ghost town. Everything apparently shuts at 1pm. Do these Italians not do lunch? We ended up having a burger and chips take away, after which, we retired to our beds with books. Only surfacing around 7pm. I’m not complaining, the relaxation was wonderful, but it was hardly a taste of Lombardy. (Incidentally, “7 Deadly Sins” by David Walsh is a must read book. Not just for the hatchet job on Armstrong but the extent of the drugs problem throughout sport as a whole.)

Talking of a tast of Lombardy - straight out at 7.30 for Red Wine, Calamari and roast veg - much more like it.

Up early on Saturday to drive up the coast of Lake Garda and then doubling back towards Manerba del Garda; a larger town on the southern shore of the Lake. A little wonder around the town and a great pizza lunch among the Ferraris and Lamborghinis in the spring sunshine lifted our spirits. I was desperate to find a place showing the Giro, and this town wasn’t it, luckily on the way back I found a bar in Manerba which had a big screen. Google translate on, I proceeded to ask the bar staff if they wouldn’t mind putting the Giro on.

Couldn’t have been more accommodating. They must have been impressed that a British Red Neck in the middle of no where actually cared about the result of their national race, and what’s more was cheering for Nibali. (I did have money on him)

And what a race it was, Nibali won by nearly a minute after an awe inspiring solo effort in atrocious conditions - tactics which came straight from the Eddie Merckx’s text book. Numerous attacks folded under the strain of climbing Passo Giau and the white out conditions, but Niabli bided his time and struck when all around were falling away.

Sky rider Uran came in a creditable third, but Cavendish lost his Red jersey to Nibali. For Cav (Who suffered more than I have ever seen him) it wasn’t all bad news, he should be able to get that back tomorrow when the Manx Missile arrives in Brescia at roughly 45 mph. And the Yellow Jerkey himself will be there resplendent in CCCP Tour de Farce regalia to welcome him.

As long as the GC order remains (which it should) Nibali, Uran, Evans, then I have two of the top three on my betting slip and the Yellow Jerkey will be celebrating alongside the jubilant Italians.

Bike Porn and stacking it on the Telegraph

Giovanni Visconti took Stage 15 in dramatic style, in fact in a style reminiscent of Pantini himself, riding at the front taking the Telegraph in his stride then suffering to the max on the Col du Galibier. Nibali retains pink after some shadow boxing with other GC contenders on the final climb. My heart felt commiserations goes out to Domenico Pozzovivo, the diminutive climber from AG2R - he had felt the full force of the curse of my betting strategy - yes I bet on him for this stage, and he promptly stacked it on the Telegraph and could only get back on to the main peloton nursing cuts and bruises.

Great finish though, in absolutely atrocious weather conditions and I'm still hopeful for Cavendish for the points jersey although there have been rumours on twitter about him not finishing the race. Come on Cav, without Wiggo I need someone to cheer in Brescia!

Anyway the CCCP were out in not so full force, Happy Moorey went solo later on, while the Yellow Jerkey and Chesh sent off on a 50 miler through Lichfield and beyond. We took in some of the biggest hills around here, but because Chesh can get a bit competitive, and I've been known to, it turned into a bit of an ass kicking competition in parts. Quads were burning like hell by the time I got home, but it turned out to be a great ride, toughest and hottest of the year so far. BTW I highly recommend Mammoth cycle shop at Milford for coffee and carrot cake at £2 - good coffee at that. Can anyone beat that?

While I was waiting for Chesh I was bored and decided to do an impromptu photo shoot of my trusty steed - sexy little number called Sharon, shown below.

Quella attracting bike store partners

You have got to give this guy credit, starting from scratch in a chicken shed or some other farmyard building, Mark Langley builds fixed gear bikes. Bloody good fixies that are not only functional but are fast becoming a bit of a fashion accessory. I for one am unashamedly waiting for my free sample model to review under solemn oath that I will return it. (Yeah right) Quella is fast becoming the de riguer of not just the commuter fraternity with people using them for training sportives and even track I believe. And national retailers are queuing up to stock em - Anyway click HERE to read the full story.

Victoria Pendleton's legs, Wiggo's tribulations and Happy Moorey's climbing boots

"When you were young do you remember pretending to be someone while you played a sport? And is it wrong to still do it? Today im out on the bike with the cccp so I'm going to shave my legs and be Victoria Pendleton."

This was this mornings facebook comment, meant entirely as joke. I don't have a perchance for appearing as a female olympian but I will admit to shaving my legs occasionally, although its a bit of a chore considering the work required - see photo!
The response I had from the comment was interesting and at the same time disturbing.

Anyway the CCCP did a quick 50 over to Ironbridge Gorge and back this morning and anyone who knows Ironbridge will know why its called a gorge! And to the amazement of the squad, Happy Moorey's training paid off and he managed to get up that monster hill without getting off for the first time ever! Another first was the appearance of "Motorbike Mike" on a hybrid, but showed good form - when he gets his roadie he'll see a massive jump in performance.

This occurred to a back drop of Wiggins hanging on by his nails trying to keep in contention at the GIRO. Lead home by his squad, he had to make up nearly a minute to get back into the Maglia Rose group, but nearly lost it on the descents. His fall this week seems to have knocked his confidence and the rest of the peleton know it - pushing on at the front to inflict as much pain as possible, both going up and descending! My money wagered on Wiggo looks like going the same way as most of my other bets, but I'm taking heart in the fact I will be able to actually see my money being lost live in Brescia on the final day!

5 members of the CCCP Squad this morning, Happy Moorey, Scissorhand John, Motorcycle Mike, Chesh, and The Little Bear:

Rejoice for I have wealth beyond your wildest dreams

Forget the riders of the past that who have broken collarbones and legs, dismiss the horses that have fell at the final hurdle, take no notice of the Sagen photo finish loss at the San Remo.... I have won a bet at long last! Cavendish is responsible for increasing my personal wealth to the handsome tune of £6.50 from a £10 bet. Well done Cav, I shall be toasting you with a pint and bag of crisps.

Quella - the man, the machine

I'm not talking unemployment cheque

The GIRO, its exploded into a miriad of colour and excitement, the raw gladitorial combat of a Cavendish victory in the sprint, the artistry of SKY's team time trial, the brash arrogance of Ryder Hesjedal's series of attacks, the coolness of Wiggo, its all been thrown up in the air fantastically by a number of unjustified attempted breakaways grabbing the glory at the front. The sight of an euscadel rider  chasing at the front of a breakaway with half a dozen bottles down the back of his shirt was a treat! His team car had decided that the breakaway was going to be caught so ladened him him down in anticipation of the peleton catching them. No sooner had they done that, another rider saw his chance and surged ahead. Obviously a bit pissed at this, the euscadel rider kicked off looking like mitchelin man and made a valient effort in keeping with the breakaway rider for some time. A folly of youth but entertaining non the less.

So Wiggins got held up and slips down to sixth some 36 seconds behind the leader. No problemo says Braillsford, his evil master plan of boring the entire peleton to death with "Keeping it safe, playing the percentages and counting the numbers" seems to go against the romanticism of the Giro, the passion of the race, the need for drama. What the hell I wont give a damn if Wiggo is in pink in Brescia - cos I'll be there to see him in! COME ON WIGGO!

Day 1 giro

Cavendish in pink by the end of the day.

Near Naked Men

CCCP (Cannock Crap Cycling Party) Training starts in earnest this weekend for the 600 mile in 6 days road trip

Its all for male cancer awareness - don't be to embarrassed to get yourself checked out. The outfits are pretty memorable, especially some of the shapes and sizes the CCCP road warriors are going to be cramming into them.

60 mile round trip on Sunday is the target. Ironbridge the destination. A team assembled by scientific analysis, counting the numbers, testing to the limit, the selected CCCP team for the day includes:
Happy Moorey - Rouler
The Little Bear - Sprint specialist
Scissorhand John - Domestique
B******* Dave - Feed zone specialist (Probably end up as Director Sportif)
Dufty (Buffet Slayer) - Climber
The Axeman - Sprint lead out man
Chesh - A cycling Soigneur
Yellow Jerkey - wanna be team leader (but will probably get lost)

Anticipated new squad members
Jim The Fist
The Bosh

I think you will agree, its an ensemble that would do credit to and Grand Tour

Yellow Jersey designed for the dark!

Prudhomme unveils Le Tour de France yellow jersey in Sydney | Cycle Traveller

For the first time the TDF is finishing in the dark, with the yellow jersey carrying fluorescent elements! Check out the link above

Ferraris and self preservation

Milan Bergamo on the 23rd May will see me hiring a car, throwing my bike into the boot and making my way to Lake Garda, to wait for the final stage of the Giro - Riese Pio X to Brescia. Originally I intended to drive the 250 miles from the airport to the mountainous Silandro Schlanders - but there's a reason for the change of plan. I have never driven on mainline Europe (cycled but not driven) and what put me off is a combination of narrow winding mountain passes and lunatic Italian Ferrari drivers with latino charged road rage. I was either going to end up sliding down a valley wall, or getting arrested.

Now this may sound like I'm stereotyping an entire nation but I have this from a expat Italian who comes from the Lake Garda area. Plus I am a little concerned with perhaps my ADHD kicking in while driving on the wrong side of the road - this happened when we did the London to Paris ride a couple of years ago when I found an articulated lorry bearing down on me. The outcome was a bale out into a french hedge amid Gaelic obscenities and honking horns.

Yep the 25 mile pancake flat route to Brescia will do me nicely, although I am going to try and get some miles in on the bike in the mountains in the preceding days. "This is the Self Preservation Society" to quote a previous Italian adventure.

No Wiggo - GIRO!

Let me take you back to The Tour de France 2012 - Froome riding as a domestique for Wiggins realised that he had stronger legs and jumped off the front to try and go for a stage win. This went against team orders and to be fair he capitulated and continued his role to support Wiggo who was at this point in the red zone. Much was said of this and there were people who openly declared that Froome was the better rider. However Wiggo, although marginaly weaker on the extreme climbs, showed his overall class to blow everyone away on further stages, culminating in the time trial which he took with a raging fist at the line.

Forward nearly a year and Wiggins has decided unilaterally it seems, wants to not only go for the Giro this year, but wants the TDF as well. Its put the cat among the pigeons at Sky, Froome stonewalling any suggestions of a change of leader. I do not envy Brailsford, there's going to be a god almighty row! Champions have to be selfish, but this time I think Wiggins, who is a big officianardo of cycling history and respector of tradition should in this instance stick to original gameplan for the season as did Froome last year.

Only 7 riders have won gthe Giro and TDF in the same year, so its not an easy gig! I'm a massive Wiggo fan, but he's wrong here if he wants to change the teams plans for the season.

Take the Giro Wiggo (Not least because I am going to be at the finish to see you on the podium) and support Froome in the TDF. Make this honorable statement and I think you'll look back in the history books to find you'll not just be there for winning the TDF but being one of the true characters for sticking to your word by helping Froome win it.

Nice attitude

Becky (@BeckyBonsall) tweeted at 8:35 PM on Mon, Apr 29, 2013: Every time I see cyclists on the road I just want to run them over. DO YOU PAY ROAD TAX? No, so get out my fucking way. (https://twitter.com/BeckyBonsall/status/328955797327474688) Get the official Twitter app at https://twitter.com/download

Hangover with ACDC and Chris Froome

After winning the League Cannock RUFC celebrated long and hard last night. Unfortunately the CCCP had a morning ride planned. Something had to give - I had back trouble, couldnt get off it basically - and it resulted in a Red arrows like individual display by Scissorhand John, Happy Moorey and the Yellow Jerkey. 3 miles into my ride I bumped into John who was on his way back home. Moorey who had managed to get out of bed some 45 minutes before me, had set off on his own as well - I had hoped to catch up with him on the ride, but it never happened. No sign of the little Bear, The Axeman, Chesh, Bullshit Dave or new recruit Dufty (The buffet slayer)

Never the less the ride was fantastic, beautiful spring morning, loads of MAMILS out on the road and I had my music through one ear piece to keep me company. I have found that ACDC is probably the best band  to cycle to, although the Pretender by the Foo Fighters takes some beating when you are looking for some impetus up a hill.

Today also saw the climax of the Tour de Romandie - Chris Froome in yellow with just the Time Trial to go. I wasn't confident for him because I had put £20 on him to win last Wednesday and that usually means the kiss of death. My track record over the last month or so includes 3 fallen horses, one cyclist who broke a leg and collar bone, photo finish loss for Sagen on the Milan San Remo and Barcelona to win against Bayern Munich! (They lost 4-0 if you didn't know).

To my surprise Froomie did the business, after a hard fought day yesterday when he needed to go on his own to protect his position after team mates dropped away and the attacks came thick and fast. Spilak eventually took the stage win,  Froome content to let him as the GC contenders had given up the ghost.

This left todays TT which predictably was won by Tony Martin, but Froomie left nothing on the course and managed to take third. He began the stage with a comfortable 47-second advantage over second placed Simon Spilak (Katusha) and  extended his lead. Spilak rode to fifth on the day at 41 seconds to confirm his runner-up finish, 54 seconds down, with Rui Da Costa (Movistar) third. I watched all of this on a dutch internet channel! I'm now fluent!

So I am now celebrating my riches (Odds of 7-20) with a nice bottle of red while watching Toulon against Saracens in the Heineken Cup Semi Final. Going for Toulon myself. Which probably means the entire team will go down with food poisoning at half time. However I have to say, still cant see any Fly Half in the UK who's any better than Jonny Wilkinson.

I'll leave you with an ACDC classic - Its a long way to the top if you want to Rock n Roll baby!

Rugger roadie weekend

A weekend road warrior report might be a bit of an effort because today happens to be the last day of cannock rugby club's season. Im playing today, which is usually enough to effect my cycling but i do believe we've won the league. So there may be some serious carbing up this evening celebrating in the usual style. There may be gold fish bowls involved!

Froomee still in the zone

Come on me babeee.
Just a little wager on the old boy

The Axeman Returns and Scissor hands tris

After a years absence, the Axeman returned to the CCCP fold with a 25 miler this morning. Thats him blasting across Cannock Chase in the photo above. There were some cobwebs to blow out, but he coped with everything thrown at him. The Yellow Jerkey was the only other CCCP Tarmac Warrior on the weekend run, as Scissor Hand John was doing a debut triathlon, (which he did in a very respectable time),



and the Little Bear was on a photoshoot for "Tread n Shred" Mountain Bike meet, sacrificing his own training for the filthy lucra - click the photo below to see some of his work, good as it is, he's gonna suffer on some of the longer rides if he doesn't get the miles in!



As is Happy Boy Moorey - he's spent the day at his beloved Leicester Tigers with a couple of the most serious, and dangerous drinkers from Cannock Rugby Club, namely Mr Walker and Chink. Legends in their own lifetime for destroying drinking companions and bringing chaos to all around.

New boy Phil Dufty (Pseudonym yet to be decided) had a no show because of a rather heavy social function last night. Chesh got called into work last minute and Angus had previous commitments. We do have however prospective CCCP members in the wings - Jim the Fist has ordered his new B-Twin road bike and will be making his debut in a couple of weeks when he's back on leave. Evo The Bosh is waiting on delivery of a brand new Giant Defy and will be joining us as soon as the wrappings off it. Porter has threatened to return to the sport and Smooth Andy is getting his bike out the garage at some point. So the future of the CCCP seems healthy.

Other info includes Daniel Martin winning the Liege Bastogne Liege in some style, and the Yellow Jerkey continuing a fantastic run of betting form by giving Chris Froome the Kiss of Death by betting on him. This follows Wiggins crashing out of the Giro Trentino with a mechanical after I had a fiver on him.

Awesome digital Mag for you road warriors

http://www.spincyclemag.com/

Just been recommended it and its bang on the button, check it out.

Inspiration for a morning ride!

Having trouble getting out of the pit to do a few miles on the bike?

Let me introduce you to my "Friday Morning Song" concept (FMS).  It started some 17 years ago when I was making a cup of tea first thing in the morning, on a Friday morning about 6am, feeling pretty good about the fact that the weekend was almost there. I put the stereo on full blast to "Leroy Brown" by Frank Senatra  and bounced around the kitchen making the tea in my underpants. I brought said beverages up stairs to be met by my then 3 year old daughter Scarlett who proceeded to dance like a lunatic with me. When the track was finished she calmly went back to bed.

This then became a ritual which continues to this day, some 17 years later! Although my daughters (13 and 20 respectfully) don't get out of bed and dance with me anymore, they do shout from their bedrooms their opinion on the track I pick for that weeks FMS as I walk up the stairs. My wife has long since resigned herself to being woken by the stereo on a Friday morning.

Only one rule on track selection - its has to be up beat, any genre but it needs to make you want to bounce off the walls! I have missed this only once I believe in 17 years, and then I made up for it by having a late night Friday evening song after being down the pub. (Didn't go down well at all)

So if its to get the inspiration for a morning bike ride or just to get in the mood for the weekend, I highly recommend everyone to try the FMS concept just once - face the wrath of your family, partner or neighbor just one time, you may get to like it, in fact you might get them to join in.

And just for reference today's FMS was Fat Boy Slim "The Funk Soul Brother" click through and play loud, preferably while bouncing around the house in your underpants!

Wiggo, use the power of MOD

Looks like Wiggo is going to need some divine intervention if he's going to scrape back 3.19  tomorrow in the final day of the Giro Trentino. Its got a couple of steep climbs but not enough a fear to bring him back to the leader Maxime Bouet, a French rider with AG2Rwho might fancy his chances of securing the win.

So as I contemplate another little wager going down the drain (I bet on Wiggo) I pack my bag at work to wonder home to the hated torture machine that is the Turbo Trainer.

Hoy Hoy!

Must highlight this article about Chris Hoy, the man who after so many years at the top of his sport, 6 time gold medalist and thoroughly nice chap. Retiring today, this BBC article outlines how tough it was at the start of his career when the funding wasn't there and it was a real struggle. Read and wonder here on THIS LINK

Pink! Its my favourite Colour...

... to quote Steve Tyler from Aerosmith.

Its Got 21 stages, its 3405.3 kilometers long, 19,429 meters of elevation and has 6 mountain finishes - Giro D'Italia 2013! Can Ryder Hesjedal defend the Maglia Rosa? It seems pretty open this year to me. I know the machine that is SKY lead by the automaton that is Wiggo are hot favourites, but its not all going their own way; the Classics have been a disappointment, and Wiggo has saddle sores which he's taking antibiotics for. Which might explain the poor start to  the Giro Trentino - 6 minutes down and admitting that he thought about climbing off! At least the Team Time Trial win pulled it back a bit.

Nibali will have something to say about the Maglia Rosa, he usually does, and its usually something inflammatory towards Wiggo. There's no love lost between these two. But what of the others, Maglia Verde (Climbing) or the Maglia Rosso (Points)? Cavendish has got to be the favourite to take Day 1, but can he keep with the pace to consider a points challenge? I don't think his team Omega Pharma-Quickstep are strong enough to keep him at the front. As for the mountains, lets go for Domenico Pozzovivo of AG2R-LA Mondiale - a natural climber who should show the rest a clean pair cleats.

The biggest question is of this years Giro, can the Yellow Jerkey combine a genuine desire to cycle up a few Italian Alpine passes, take in the last 3 days of the race whilst at the same time entertain my accompanying wife who will be more interested in relaxing on the banks of Lake Garda with a glass of wine than following the sweaty Yellow Jerskey about.

Below is the Yellow Jerkey in Paris being welcomed in by his wife Jayne on the final day of the tour de france (just to clarify, I'm not claiming to have been in the TDF, it was a London to Paris Charity Ride 2009 which ended on the last day of the TDF) so she's used to being "on tour" so to speak - cant see any problem then.

Amstel Gold 2013

Amstel Gold:  If anyone needs any indication on how good a gambler I am, I have within the last 12 months betted on, and consequently killed 2 horses, broken a bike rider's leg and relegated a football team. Thomas Voeckler is the latest casualty. If I bet on em, its the kiss of death!
Vasil Kiryienka look like he's been mugged, blood all over the place, Schlek has abandoned, anyone would thing I betted on him! Orica Green Edge moving into the zone. Come on Sagen!

Looks a great race though this year, first time we have really seen the sun!

Brace yourself

Gird your loins, and mount your steeds, for today the cccp gather to do battle against gale force winds and chilling rain. 9.30 start at the railway station. Let loose the dogs of war and tarmac warriors - for wiggo and st george!

Sagan, two weeks running?

Well he won me £25 last week, has Peter Sagan got it in the tank to do it again on Sunday at the Amstel Gold? And if so will he be able to keep his hands to himself?
see what Cycling Weekly have to say. The odds are so short on him - 23-20 last check, probably worth an each way bet on Voeckler or Gilbert both look a good punt.

Anyway weekend warriors, as long as I'm in one piece after playing rugby tomorrow, we're taking out a CCCP virgin on Sunday morning, he's arriving on a hybrid, but we'll be gentle.

The Yellow Jerkey for the Giro

Forget Wiggins for the Giro, This year there is a rumor that the Yellow Jerkey himself will be making an appearance, albeit the last 3 days following it around the mountainous regions of the north and hopefully in Brescia to see the finish. Blagged a couple of days in an apartment on Lake Garda from a good Italian friend, and I intend to be doing a bit of on the spot reporting and taking some shots - CANNOT WAIT, going to awesome.

Wiggins is hot favourite, but he's coming into it with little evidence of "form" unlike 2012. The Italians bemoaned the lack of "romance" about the way he won the TDF last year, hopefully he can get them on side with a show of his new dynamic bursts of speed he's been working on. For the more "romantic" of selections, I'd like to see Vincenzo Nibali win it - on paper and doing the stats, Wiggo should beat him if he's in the same shape as last yeats TDF, but this is Nibali's home patch and the Italian won't roll over easily. Another home choice has got to be Ivan Basso, he reckons he's got another Maglia Rose in him. So who will prevail? the scientific and statistically superior SKY machine or a rider with the passion and desire required to perform against expectations.

Suggestions welcome....

UKs best cycle Cafe?

OK this is what Cycling weekly reckon. Whats you favourite?
http://www.cyclingweekly.co.uk/news/latest/537785/top-10-british-cycling-cafes.html

Mines the Mess in Brewood

PS Great Win by Sagan today in De Brabantse Piji - just won me £25! BOOM

Scissor Hand John and the Little Bear come out of hibernation

After a winter period spent comfort eating and working on their couch potato figures, Scissor Hand John (he's a hairdresser) and the Little Bear decided to emerge from their holes and participate in a CCCP 30 miler. Sunday morning was a beaut of a day, sun shining and a bright blue sky. Which prompted me to forego the "Max Wall" leggings and don shorts for the first time this year. Light gloves instead of the arctic mitts I'd been wearing for the last few months and a typical short sleeved top with arm warmers topped it off and I was ready for the off.

Scissor Hand John turns up with a spanking new kit, red and black to match his bike, bedecked with spanish decals. "What's that mean then?" I ask "How the f*** do I know, I don't speak spanish" replied  the ever elequent SHJ. "I bought it when I went to Gran Canaria on my mid winter training weekend.". Bloody hell, he's taking it serious this year. He went on to say he's entering his first triathlon next week. The CCCP is not use to this level of dedication, we may need to reconsider his membership if this sort of behaviour continues.

The Little Bear turns up 20 minutes late as usual wrapped up like Kenny from South Park. "You'r gonna freeze to death you idiot" he said "I checked the weather forecast, its 2 degrees this morning tops"

The Little Bear's aero winter gear

We were 10 minutes into the ride before a was regretting my optimistic clothing choice. Feeling in feet had disappeared, hands were the same - wind chill factor had done me again!

All in all though we had a great little ride out, with me feeling the benefits of not having a fag for 2 weeks, and feeling the disadvantage of carrying an extra half a stone in weight - I've been on this bloody "Cave Man" diet for two weeks now and I don't think its gonna last much longer.

The Little Bear did well and John managed to get up hills that he'd previously walked up, so all in all we had a good run, finishing up with a turbo chocolate and mushroom omlette. in the Mess. Incidentally the Mess in Brewood is a small bistro which has now become a mecca for cyclists on a Sunday morning. When we left there was at least 13 lycra clad road warriors drinking coffee and eating cake - highly recommend the place.

Got back home in time for the start of the Paris Roubaix. I am writing this while watching it and drinking a bottle of merlot shouting "come on Phinney you bloody waste of space, where the hell are you." I might ad that I have £10 riding on him at 12-1. I also have £5 on Stannard and £5 on Edvald Boasoan . Anyone who knows my betting prowess knows that this is the kiss of death for these riders. I've just checked the odds and they've all gone to 124-1 with 17 km to go - bloody typical. Cancellara started as a short favourite and wasn't worth a bet, but its fairly obvious that Fabian is going to win it. Thats why I've decided to try and minimise my losses by putting an "in race" bet on Cancellara. Watch this space, Fabian will puncture or fall within the next 5 minutes.

Bernard Hinault one of the sports all time greats described the Paris Roubaix as a race for dick heads, I feel the biggest dick heads are the ones that try and bet on such an unpredictable race such as this.

Come on Fabian, to quote a My Fair Lady line, "Move your bloody arse"

Mud pluggers - How fast are you

This is funny - for all mud pluggers out there -

Snow Angels on Bontragers

Well the Mavic tyres that have served me so well over the last year finally gave up the ghost after a couple of stints on the Turbo trainer. So before heading up to Gods country (The Lake district) to ride Hard Knott Pass I thought I ought to get a new set. The local bike shop didnt have any Mavics so Bontrager R3s were the new acquisition. Everything packed up and ready to roll we set off to sit on the M6 in a traffic jam for 5 hours before we eventually turned off and headed into the hills.

 

Which was where this photo opportunity came up - my bike is actually on the top of my car here!

The landscape was breathtaking, traveling over mountain passes that only 48 hours earlier were 12 ft deep in snow we stopped periodically to soak up the view. We eventually arrived in Ravenglass a sleepy little fishing village which boasts the fantastic Pennington Hotel - A hostel of some repute among the few who know about it. This little village is one of my favourite place on the planet, the locals are friendly, the food fantastic and while you are there, the rest of the world seems to be "on pause".

  

To cut a long story short we got there, pigged out, I mean carbed up, shipped a bottle of wine and had an early night in preparation for the big climb over Hard Knott Pass.

A gloriously bright morning that had a bit of a nip in the air set the tone, while I changed tyres in the car park. Ready to roll, I bid my wife farewell and told her I'd meet her in Eskdale once I return from my epic climb. (Jayne was going up the valley on the Lall Ratty, The Ravenglass Eskdale steam railway)

Without sounding over emotional, I have never felt so overjoyed about cycling. The scenery was something to behold; the mountains had their "caps on" (as my grandad used to say when the snow was still visible on the peaks) and spring had truly sprung. I cycled up the valley with the biggest grin on my face, it was truly inspirational. I had to stop a couple of times just to embrace the moment. The only downer was (and I dont know if I was imagining this) the Bontrager tyres seemed a little 'slower' than my old Mavics. Do they really make any difference? It seemed so to me.

Shortly before this photo came a "Road closed" sign. As you can see the road looked fine so I ignored it. Some miles onward, at the foot of Hard Knott Pass I came across another "Road closed" sign shown below, which I feel I should have taken a bit more notice of. Take a look at the gradient % on the road sign!

Taking note of the warning, but ignoring it non the less, I continued up the rapidly steepening road to be greeted by some pretty impressive snow drifts - I couldn't resist taking a snap to give some indication of the severity of the weather in this region within the last few days.

About half a mile up the pass I saw two touring cyclists wearing hiking boots walking down the slope. This coincided with me having to traverse a small patch of snow. Queue my first mishap. Back wheel spins, I no longer have forward momentum, I am now on my arse. 

"You've no chance of getting over the pass on your bike mate" commented one of the tourists. "We've walked down 90% of it, its just to dangerous - further up, there's absolutely no tarmac to see, just virgin snow" We chatted for a while and I pondered the worth of this attempted climb. After my pondering I attempted to get back on my bike to continue onwards and upwards - not easy when you're on a 25-30% slope. 

Hopping along trying to get my cleats in, I almost came a cropper again. In the end I pushed it forward until there was a lull in the viciousness of the gradient. And I'm back in the game! Not for long unfortunately, another encounter with a small patch of snow which stretched across the width of the tarmac and another date with the dirt!

Another 10 minutes of my now well practiced "One legged cyclist" impression and I managed to get the bloody bike moving. With a bit of momentum and strategic guidance around snow patches I started to make a bit of headway until I saw before me the end of tarmac and the beginning of a never ending snow field. This was no time for subtlety - I stood on the peddles and gave it everything I had in the vain hope that I could plow through the white stuff and perhaps find a bit of tarmac at the next bend. I last about 6ft into the snow before falling side ways and rolling on to my back laughing at the absurdity of my efforts. As I lay their looking into the blue sky above, cackling like a lunatic, I instinctively started waving my arms and legs around to create a "Snow Angel" - in hind sight, I am so pleased that all of this took place in the middle of no where with no witnesses, well no living witnesses, not now anyway....

The view back down the pass when I finally gave up

The view back UP the pass when I capitulated

Wet through, with a broken helmet, and bruised pride, I made my way back down the pass - walking! When it was safe to cycle I immediately suffered a puncture - 1 year without one with my Mavics, and first ride out, the Bontrager springs a leak - is this inherent?  Quick fix on the side of the road, roll down into the Eskdale valley and before you know it I'm supping chocolate in the Boot Inn with my better half.

I raced the Ratty back to Ravenglass and beat it quite handsomely, but those Bontragers still seem a bit sluggish - in summary a bit like myself, slow and prone to letting out air!

Cold, wet and failed

Fantastic days cycling, in fact I would go so far to say that it was the most enjoyable and invigorating time I've ever had on a bike. Really looking forward to doing it again later in the year as a CCCP event, anyone wanna come along?

Arty with the bike

Had to stop for this pic. Will report on the tour de hard knott pass when im back on sunday. This shot was on the way up to the North West Lakes.

Snow biking and Dobermans

Well the snows still here but the yellow jerkey will not be thwarted. Driving up to the lake district with the bike in the back. Some of the passes MUST be open. Looking forward to giving Hard Knott pass a try if the sun keeps doing its stuff. Meanwhile at chez moi, we have a housesitter/babysitter for our resident doberman Gerry. Just thought it was worth warning any would be burglars.

I am Caveman! UGGH!

Day 4 of the "Caveman" diet. As suggested to me by Killian Roach, a diet so called because you are only allowed to eat what a cave man could find to eat. No granary carbohydrates because Caveman hadn't learned to make bread yet. No sugar in coffee, no milk because cows weren't being milked then either. Cuzzers, Pizza and chocolate are out, although Mr Sizzle's sausage is OK without the bread roll.

Its all about trimming down, so my power to weight ratio is improved for the coming set of CCCP rides across the UK and beyond. I am considering growing my hair and beard for the full caveman effect.

All that's left is proteins, fats and non granary carbs - apparently these are basic staple diet of the Caveman, and what I need to trim some pounds and get into shape. The thing is I seem to be eating twice as much as ever. 6 Eggs at a time with bacon slices. A whole bag of apples. Party bag of fruit and nuts alongside half a chicken and a tub of peanut butter eaten straight from the tub with a spoon. Green tea, black coffee, more bloody fruit juice and NO BEER.

Considering I don't normally eat breakfast, this mornings petit dejeuner was 3 scrambled eggs, portion of melon and grape fruit salad and half a box of Sainbury's wafer thin chicken slices. Which doesn't sound too Caveman when you consider the microwaving involved for the scrambled egg.

At the same time I have been hitting the turbo trainer with vigor while watching some inspirational video of a drug addled Lance Armstrong breaking the land speed record while climbing Alp duez, but the end result is I have put on 2 pounds.

It might be due to the fact I'm probably working up to the worlds biggest poo - after all, 10 eggs a day is gonna bung you up in some way of form. Alternatively the eggs may be the culprits responsible for 2 pounds of extra cholesterol gained throughout my arteries - either way, cant see this lasting a month!

Bloody Turbo Trouble

3 days of snow, no chance of a bike ride, its about time I bought a turbo trainer. Did a bit of research on the tinternet and came up with a Voldare Elite Italian jobby. Well they know a bit about bikes don't they, and the price isn't to bad. I assured myself that the £130 I just spent was far better investment than a new gym membership. Now all I needed to do is
A. decide where I'm going to set it up, and 
B. figure out how to set it up.

My initial idea of in the living room so I can watch the tv at the same time didn't go down well with the missus. "You'll hardly know I was in the room, the bloke in the shop said its practically silent running, and it means we'll be doing something together - you watching Corra, me having a coronary"

The bedroom was out of the question, so there was one option left - the music room/library. Now that sounds a bit grandiose, but the room has only been called a library since I built a book shelf in there and has only been called a music room since I came back drunk from the pub with a complete set of drums (and £100 lighter). The drum set takes pride of place in the library accompanied by a rack of guitars and amplifiers. In  fact the appearance of the first of the guitars was a result of alcohol at a charity auction! On a more positive note,  it did inspire both daughters to play guitar and drums respectively.

So back to the turbo - like any self respecting bloke I cast aside the instructions, dumped everything on the floor and manually attempted the assemble. Something clicked into place, and then flicked back out while one of the legs snapped up and whacked me in the chin. Not a great start, and after half an hour I was calling the Little Bear out of desperation (Our resident CCCP cycling mechanic). He popped round to see what was the problem.

Well the problem was I had got bits left over - one of which I had recognised - a spindle out of the middle of a wheel, (something that the Halfords bloke assured me I wouldn't need to mess with, it was just going to be a plug and play affair, NO TAKING THE BIKE APART! he said) and a couple of non identifiable metal parts with thread on, 1 inch wide metal discs and a couple of sponge type washers.

"Well you're gonna have to change the spindle on your bike to this one so you don't get your existing one  damaged, but the good news it that only takes about a minute and its dead easy.  That calmed me down.

As for these other bits,... that's a bit more serious..." I looked at him concerned that I had knackered my new purchase by not assembling it correctly "These parts my friend, are from the main symbol and stand of your daughters drum kit"

Well you look at em, they look as though they should have been part of it! - spot the spindle!

Cccp snowed off.

But pog the dog is trying to get me out of bed.

Weekend Warrior Report - Aeroplanes, Wookies and Frost bitten toes!

Ah looks a beaut of a morning I told myself. Might even wear shorts instead of my heavily used "Max Wall" leggings. I began to have my doubts while leaning up a lamppost next to the designated traffic island and meeting place for the CCCP tarmac warriors latest outing. The fact that my feet were starting to numb up after the 2 mile ride to said meeting place should really have persuaded me to nip back for my overshoes.

The Little Bear came around the corner with full winter kit on and a banana sticking out of his mouth. Skidding to a halt, he lost the majority of it in the gutter. I couldn't understand what expletive he uttered, as his face was full of the remains of said banana.

Only two CCCPers out this week but thats a 100% improvement on last week. "I had a bad curry last night, and I haven't been doing much, so lets make it a short one eh" Exclaimed the Little bear.

Let me take this opportunity to introduce you to the Little Bear. 5 foot 6 of wiry, OCD suffering rug smuggler. Part human, part Wookie, hence the moniker. Great guy to have on your team because he is actually the only member of the CCCP who can fix a bike beyond a puncture. His steed is always immaculately turned out, and can tell you what gearing a rider is using from 50 yards out. But for gods sake don't start him on Roofing (his profession) or world war 2 aeroplane engines (his dirty little secret).

So we took off down the main road towards Rugeley from Hednesford and all seemed well, apart from my bloody freezing feet. Out the otherside and we were in the countryside. Now its probably fair to say the Little Bear hadn't been doing much lately, and hills have never been his favourite, but not long ago, he was in top shape and they didn't seem to bother him. To much beer and cuzza of late has slowed him down a touch, but he seemed to be keeping pace and even took a turn on the front.

After a few miles we spotted two riders ahead at the foot of a climb, so we put the hammer down a bit to catch em. As we got closer we noticed it was two women. So summoning our best Contador climbing impressions, and holding our bellies in, we skipped past the young ladies with a polite "Morning". I ploughed on assuming the Little Bear was on my wheel, and within a couple of miles had reached the top, then to enjoy the 35mph+ downhiller on the other side. At the bottom there's a cafe, (Where I intended to buy some hot chocolate to pour over my feet) so I pulled over and looked around expecting to see the Little Bear speeding down the hill. No sign....

A minute or so later the girls we had passed came down the slope and streaked past. Where's the Bear? Moments later he appeared in full aero position, arse hanging off the back of the seat. After pulling up to a halt I asked what happened. "I hate bloody hills!"He hissed,  "I'd passed the girls with you, then my legs decided they weren't up to it, and the ladies returned the compliment by breezing past me while I struggled to keep the wheels going round"

Now I've long learned my lesson about underestimating the fairer sex on a bike, but the Little Bear had over estimated his prowess - this was to good to keep quiet. Sorry Bear, had to publish and be damned!

Coffee and cake later, we took on the best of hills around Cannock Chase before heading back home before my feet fell off or the Bear's legs seized up. Great ride though, and its the start of the CCCP's preseason training for the "East to West Near Naked Man" run and whatever other lunatic escapade we decide upon this year. Personally I have the Coast to Coast taking in Hard Knott Pass to look forward to at the end of this month - thats a doozy! 30% in some places.

Edinburgh to London - A fantastic trip over 5 days for SAAFA with the CCCP - full story to come, with extracts courtesy of Steven Tongue

London to paris 3 years ago I think with the CCCPers.

The spirit of Taylor Phinney

"This is not a story about last place" - superbly written piece by Jason Gay about Taylor Phinney's gargantuan effort in the Tirreno-Adriatico stage race, inspired by thoughts of his father to finish the race. I defy anyone not to be moved by it, please follow the link to read.

It reminded me of a similiar, but not quite so heroic event the Tour de Nock  2011.

3 CCCP members, Glen "the Little Bear"Curley, Young Jack, and myself had entered along with a CCCP wanna be who shall be known as "DG" .

Its probably fair to say that DG was a bit over weight. New to cycling but massively enthusiastic about it, new lycra (stretched to its limits) all the gear and frankly, then, no idea.

Lining up in freezing conditions the conversation revolved around "well is everyone waiting for each other? Do we ride together?" Now The tour de Nock isnt a race, but its 63 miles of undulating Staffordshire countryside with a beast of a climb 4 miles from the end called "Cemetery Hill", it was a reliability ride, but myself and Young Jack were not going to be hanging around. Not when everyone else in the 200+ field seemed up for it.

That left The Little Bear (who's a kind hearted soul) to chaperone DG around his first ever ride over 10 miles long.

"Check these Apples" We sped off and joined a fairly spirited group who were keeping a good pace. A group of 3, myself included, tried to up the pace and proptly took a wrong turning and to cut a long story short got lost. This is something which I have been gaining a reputation for, and was bitterly disappointed in once more adding fuel to the fires. We eventually got back on the tail after going 3 miles out of the way, but our overall time was never going to be impressive.

Young Jack had only summer gear on and even with the brisk tempo he was starting to go hypothermic at about 50 mile and dropped out when he realised the route went past his house. I plugged on, being dropped by old men and young children at Cemetery Hill and arrived back in Hednesford for a well deserved hot chocolate and cake. A bit of post ride banter with some of the other cyclists and a browse over the store erected by the local bike shop who had sponsored and organised the event, I decided to pop home for a shower. I only lived about 2 mile away, so I peddled home, showered and changed, and drove back to the finish line.

Still no sign of the Little Bear or DG. Everyone had finished at this stage (or so I thought), the crowds started to dwindle as everyone went home for Sunday lunch, so I decided to drive back down the route and see where the were. 4 miles out I looked down the sweeping Cemetery Hill to see two stationery figures at the foot of the climb. I drove down to find the pair of them sitting on an embankment, DG  gorging on jelly babies. "need this for the final push" exclaimed a weak looking DG.  The little Bear smiled and said, all things considered, DG was doing ok on the climbs and flat, but went down hills slower than he went up em, wouldn't let go of the brakes! The Little Bear wouldn't leave him on his own, so sacrificed himself for the good of encouraging a newby into the cycling fraternity.

I drove back to an ever emptying start/finish line and started reading the paper. An hour  later as the bike shop were packing up the last of their assorted goodies, as the last box went into the back of the van parked on the abandoned car park, the Little Bear and DG arrived. The sponsors were so amazed that they'd just finished that they insisted on a photo shoot with the pair of them, which they used in post event marketing material.

They, like Taylor Phinney got more publicity for their determined effort than the first homers!

I am pleased to say that DG jumped into cycling feet first and lost 3 stone due to an completely unhealthy obsession with cycling - Cycling at 12 at night around the local park for 20 miles with high beam lights, then again in the morning before work, while eating just 600 calories a day. Spent a small fortune on bike upgrades and even more gear... still got no idea though!

Foot note - DG has been kept in cognito to protect the innocent and the fact that he's piled the pounds back on - last report was he's resuming pre season training and the diet

Weekend Warrior report

Its gonna be a short one this week.

"Its snowing you idiot" was one of the more repeatable text responses received from the one I sent out to the CCCP tarmac warriors. "Its not sticking" was met with equal derision. Not to be put off, I base layered up, two pairs of bib shorts, neoprene jacket and a snood later I was hauling out my bike from the garage and checking my tyres while the light flakes descended.

And as usual, just as I have everything ready and I'm fully kitted up, I get the urge for a "Richard the third". It takes a good 10 minutes to get a winter outfit kit on, so its another 20 minutes before I'm lycra'd up again and ready for the off.

As I cycled into the snow flakes, I encouraged myself - "Dedication thats whats I've got. Commitment to the cause, no pain no gain."

3 miles into a biting head wind, snow sticking to my shades and fingers starting to numb up, the executive decision was made "sod this" - the 40 mile intended run was abandoned with a swift left turn which made the ride a 10 mile time trial.

A very lumpy, very cold, very windy, (and when I saw my time) a very slow 10 mile slog later, I locked up my bike and jumped into a warm shower - should have listened to the CCCPers.

PS - I am currently looking at interviewing an 85 year old champion cyclist, who's going to give me an insight into time trialing in the 50's and show me some of his trophies and medals - it might give me the inspiration to put a bit more effort into it.

Weekend warrior report - Who suffers the most?

After being abandoned to my own devises by the CCCP members this weekend, I decided to go on one of my old favourite c40 mile runs and put the garmin on. An attack on a couple of the strava segments I knew existed was part of the plan. I felt good and was convinced I was going to kick ass.

First came the Straight Mile - a stretch of road somewhat more than a mile but flat as a pancake. We normally have a bit of a gallop between a couple of signposts when we are out as a group, but today I was going to endure the full length 'On the rivet". After a gut busting effort which saw me narrowly miss a parked car that came up on me while I concentrated on keeping a bit to much 'aero', and a bit of an embarrassing problem when  my phone had slipped down my lycra bib shorts, i was convinced I had at least done a personal best, if not made KOM.

Couple of miles recovery and I hit the bottom of Poplar Lane hill, a short steep climb that I have never broken 2 minutes on. (2.02 PB) I've tried it in a high gear, I've done it in a low one, I just cannot get the optimum cadence, power required or the fat off my ass to reach my goal. This time was going to be different, I was intent on pushing my red zone to the limit.

Needless to say neither of my primary objectives were achieved, the proof of the pudding was staring me in the face from my computer screen after downloading the stats. I consoled myself with the fact I'm still up there near the top in my age group, but resigned myself to never breaking the 2 minute barrier.

This got me thinking about levels of suffering; that all important requirement to be successful at cycling. I bust my ass getting up that hill. Me, the stereotypical MAMIL (middle aged man in Lycra) must suffer more when compared to professional roadies who are trained for such a thing.

Think about it, it's harder for me to get up there than a grande tour rider scaling mont ventoux. I've got more to carry, inferior equipment, lower VO2 max, higher resting heart rate, older legs and sometimes a hangover. He's got support cars, latest in bike technology and a team around him to shelter behind. He does it everyday, he should be good at it! I've  got a bloody full time job to do and of course there's my social obligations.

It's all relative, so don't give me any post stage drivel about suffering 'mr skinny arsed carbon fibre pasta boy" you don't know the meaning of the word.
I was just saying....

A Spot of Varnish

"Do you realise that only world champions should be wearing world champion colours" quizzed the informed but slightly condescending cyclist.
"I know" commented the 47 year old Jim Varnish before turning on his cleats and jumping back on his bike.

Jim agrees that being able to wear the rainbow colours on his kit is "Very Cool" and has a bit of fun at other peoples expense with it. "But it comes at a price, you can't hide on a ride, you're expected to be putting more in than anyone else, and you've got to be fairly modest about it, because no one likes a show off and there's always some bugger thats gonna beat you!"

That aside, he's rightly proud of what he achieved after traveling to Adelaide in 1985 to take the World Cycle Speedway Championship. But it wasn't the only title he won, after coming last in his debut national final, he won a full house of titles - the first rider to win the "Grand Slam" ie. u18, u23, Senior, Australian and World titles in a 5 year period.

Just as Jim inspired his daughter Jess, he himself drew inspiration from his father who was himself a National silver medalist rider in the 50's. Three generations of champion cyclists, and with Jess being world record holding European Team Sprint Champion, and a World Championships bronze medalist, hopefully its only a matter of time before the Varnish household have two sets of rainbow colours to their name.

Jim as a youngster used to watch motorcycle speedway and wanted to be like the riders, so his dad introduced him to the cycling equivalent and he never looked back. For those who have never seen cycle speedway, check out the 1984 National championship final video - its manic! Jim won after a controversial restart because of an overly aggressive cutting up maneuver by John Watchman, which caused a little bit of an altercation. Probably wouldn't have got away with it today, but John still asks for his spokes back whenever he bumps into Jim these days!

At the age of 15 Jim had a handful of local company sponsors from his home town of Walsall to help cover the cost of competing, but how does the training compare to todays cyclists? "It was one size fits all" commented Jim "No specialist individually designed programs, but plenty of 10 mile flat out rides behind the back of a van. Diet wasn't specifically tailored, but I was lucky in the respect that my parents made sure we ate healthily in our household - my dad was my coach. You can never compare generation to generation, but it would have been interesting to see what the older guys  could have done with today's technology and diet" When pushed about what he would have been doing in today's cycling theater if he had his time again, Jim suggested a possible Kilo or Keirin role would have suited him best.

The demands and more specifically leg speed required for cycle speedway is incredible and stood Jim in great stead for track sprinting as well as road racing, both of which he participates in now for the domestic team V-Sprint Racing. The V-Sprint's pro team includes the soon to be announced for the coming season, Olympian and daughter Jess Varnish. (Thats an exclusive!)

The V-Sprint team itself participates in road racing as well as track, and is essentially a club with about 40 riders. Although unsure about what his own race commitments are going to include this season, he admits that the adrenaline rush he gets from watching Jess compete is just as good as the rush he craved from racing himself. "The atmosphere is electric at the international meets, the standard is so high and the margins for error so small, you can't help being dragged into the excitement generated, especially so if you happen to be supporting your own daughter"

And what of V-Sprint, what is it? "V-sprint wheels is an online retailer of quality carbon and alloy wheels for track, road racing and training" explained Jim "We set it up 4 or 5 years ago and it's going from strength to strength, we even have our own branded V-Sprint expresso mugs coming out!"

Now coffee is something close to most cyclists hearts, namely coffee shops visited on the weekend run, but when I asked Jim which was his favourite coffee stop, I didn't quite realise what I had touched on. Jim admitted to be completely obsessed with coffee, and investigating various brands of said substance for the ultimate blend. "There is a coffee shop called Coffee Fix in Manchester, a favourite haunt of the British Cycling team, and whenever I visit Jess, we pop in and hang out to sample the wares."

Jim is obviously competitive by nature, so I thought I'd ask him how old Jess was when she started to beat "The old man". I wasn't sure how that one would go down to be honest, but luckily for me Jim found it mildly amusing "About 16 or 17 to be honest, but you have to remember she was a full time athlete when she was 15, so you're messing around with a bit of a beast there, she generates more torque than you could imagine - She can squat double her body weight! Unfortunately she's injured at the moment so having a bit of rest with her mom in Marrakech."

For Jim these days 150 -250 miles in a week is the norm, and he's still competitive as a Vet rider. He coaches as well and gets sessions in on the track as often as possible. I once met a retired Spanish National road champion who admitted that since quitting, had never touched the bike, commercially or for pleasure. I personally found that quite sad, but its obvious that Jim has a quite different approach to life. Diagnosed with Hodgkins lymphoma in 1999 - something he described to me as "A bit of a speed bump". It made him realise how great it is to ride your bike, what's important in life and how it put everything into a totally different perspective. The incident co-incided with the release of Armstrong's book; Its not about the Bike. "An amazing book, and facinating story, and drug use aside it really inspired and encouraged me at a particularly difficult stage of my life." commented Jim

Final point from Jim is a professional forecast -Froome to win the TDF, and Wiggo the Giro "Its going to be a fantastic year for Sky"

Thanks very much for Jim's time, and good luck to Jess when she's back fit and well.

PS Although I was unaware of this at the time, I found out during this interview that not only did Jim hail from my own home town of Walsall, but we were the same age and went to the same school Joseph Leckie!

Weekend Warrior Report

"Tomorrow at 9.30?" - Sounded like a good idea on the Saturday afternoon before, shortly after representing Cannock Rugby seconds against Stone.

8.45 next morning: Can't move, the bed is stuck to my back, my legs wont move and my head feels like it doesn't belong to me My mobile has gone flat, and I've left my charger in the pub, so I cant get in touch with my would be road warrior to try and get out of it.

If I'm being honest, it wasn't just the rugby that took its toll on my body. I had the misfortune to bump into Mr Andrew Martin, lone wolf drinker that evening and looking for someone to accompany him. "We'll be back by 10" he promised. Once again I fell into his trap - I was back by 12 with a slight wobble on and a Chinese in hand to try and appease my long suffering wife.

So 8.45 the next morning was difficult, by 8.50 my vision returned, 8.55 I was up and fishing around in the wardrobe for my kit. by 9.05 I had logged into facebook to let fellow CCCP riders know the score and where we are meeting and I'm out of the door by 9.15. Quick squirt of lube for my poor bike which needed a service some 2 months ago and we're off! No breakfast, no supplies on board, perfect preparation

Free wheel down the hill and pull up on the car park, and there''s one taker from the CCCP mob, Chesh. The rest are in bed, to be honest I dont blame em, its freezing.

And so begins a 40 mile trawl of me desperately hanging on to Chesh's back wheel, while pretending not to be in the red zone. Stopped for a comfort break - in the middle of no where, but not much cover and with perfect 'mid flow' timing a small group of 4 female cyclists came around the corner and  greeted me automatically as I stood at the side of the road next to the hedge, that's when they realised what I was doing there.... Ah bit embarrassing that one, well it was cold.

Continuing the ride, I waved with false enthusiasm at passing riders, took my turn on the front over a particular Strava time trial segment, refused the offer of a sprint between signposts and coped with my numb fingers locked to the handle bars - its all part of the fun! To be honest it is, I may have been hungover, my legs may have been in bits from Rugby, but there's a bit of the masochist in every cyclist and that morning I was taking suffering to new limits.

The cafe stop was nothing short of a miracle, a popular cyclists haunt, the Mess in Brewood one turbo chocolate later, I was a new man, who needs the drugs when you have Turbo Chocolate - coffee and chocolate with heaps of sugar! That got me back home without to much pain, warm shower, lunch and a food coma on the sofa - a wonderful Sunday, life don't get much better.