Ow.

Snapped crank.
Broken foot.

S.F.B. (Insert expletive)

Which means less of this during the Pantanissima next weekend for me:

 And more of this:

The burger. Not the bikini. (But I couldn't resist. It was the gold lame that got me.)
But seeing as I'll be near Cicli Tonti which is the best bike shop in the world, probably some of this:

Boo hiss bah humbug. Unless the arnica I've been slathering all over my foot actually does something ...

Big Dog, Big Dog, Bog Dog!

Oh yeah! It all kicks off at 1pm. The Brighton Big Dog that is. I have absolutely no intention of posting any photos as I'll either be riding my bike or stuffing my face with cake. Or riding and stuffing at the same time. But seeing as I tend to suffer my most horrific bike crashes when cycling in a straight line on a route furnished with absolutely no obstacles whatsoever, that may not be a good idea.
And chickas, look at this ...

 OhmygodI'minlove because you could totally wear this on a bike. It's from the new Sweaty Betty range and frankly makes cycling down to Brighton in the rain a joyous experience as I mull over all the dance moves I will pull off while wearing this. Actually if I could pull off a Matt Hunter in Seasons skid wearing this and a pair of baggies I could die a happy lady.

Actually I want a dog called Hunter. No honestly. And do you see how seamlessly that tied up this post by going full circle? Skill.

And then it happened

It was a number of things really. First it was the dawning realisation that I actually only feel peace when I'm on my bike and yet I hate riding my bike in London (pot holes, dickheads, bad lycra, day glo.)
Then it was hanging out in Whistler and Squamish where people have awesome trails right on their doorsteps.
Then I went on my annual summer trip to Chamonix, this time to write a story on climbing Mont Blanc with the very professional Mont Blanc Guides, followed by a week of riding in Morzine with Sam at More Mountain and Sara at Flow.
Then it was the writing of a piece for the paper a couple of weeks ago where I was described by my lovely editor Andy as an 'adventure writer.'
And then it happened. The penny dropped and I figured: well hell, if I'm an adventure writer, I better go have me some adventures. Ones slightly more taxing than circling Ditchling wondering where on god's earth the bloody beacon is.
So Chamonix here I come.
And this blog will morph slightly from one dealing solely with bikes and the sometimes infuriatingly pedantic, cliquey and just plain silly bike industry (and I'm sure France is this and more) to one covering some of the other things I love as well.
Because we all know, deep down, it's not about the bike.

Could somebody ...

... be doing with bending their elbows a little bit?
Still, lovely to see the brilliance that is Aston Hill in the sun. And to see a crafty piece of boardwalk cutting off that little ass of a final corner on the route that always, always, always (except for a few times) catches my elbow. Oh, how ironic.

Things I have learnt from riding in Whistler

1) The Canadian word 'intermediate' roughly translates into England English as: 'WOAH! Holy f**k! Are you insane?!'
2) Being able to clear jumps on Crank It Up, does not automatically mean you can clear jumps on A Line, unless landing on your face counts as an official landing.
3) Elbow pads look rubbish but tucking and rolling without them stings a bit.
4) Whiskey Jack accommodation at Whistler Creek is pretty freakin amazing value for money. Book through Hotels.com and get an entire house for $80 a night.
5) The Evil Revolt is one of the only times when day-glo looks awesome. Pretty awesome.
6) It is not necessary to try and show off in front of Thomas Vanderham. He is better than you.
7) The Lift Coffee Company does the best sausage rolls on the entire planet. I know this to be fact as I have relatives in Scunthorpe and they live for sausage rolls up there. 4369 Main Street, Whistler.
8) Kona Stinky's are absolute pish. Norco A Line's are actually pretty damn good.
9) Spreading my knees could finally be the key to getting on in life. On the bike people! Jeez.
10) Large black crash pads around cable car poles are not actually black bears, despite their resemblance when going mach 10. Either way, it's best to continue with the turn as initiated rather than lose concentration for a split second. I refer you back to number 3.

I actually think Whistler is the best place on earth. Maybe. Bit expensive.

p.s. that's not me in the photo. Yet.

Helibiking in Scotland with Peaty, Hans and Danny. Oh. Yes.

Y'all seen this video? It's by Reset Films of the first ever heli-bike expedition extravaganza whoop da do da in the UK.
Props to Euan at HandI, looks like a blast.

HandI Adventures - Hans Rey, Steve Peat, Danny MacAskill from ResetFilms.co.uk on Vimeo.
Lovely soundtrack by Gomez - good choice boys! Get Myself Arrested. What a tune. That's not the song in the video but I'm just saying.

Oh and I've just got back from  an epic trip to BC. I know, I know. Life is tough. Blogs to follow once the bruises have healed as there is so much riding outside of Whistler. Who'd have thought it?

You can't tell from this picture ...

... but the road riding in this area of Spain is completely kick ass! No seriously bear with me. Ok so the hotels aren't really equipped to deal with cyclists and frankly eating chorizo at 9pm isn't the kind of carb loading I had in mind. And if we're honest, the smell of manure can hamper performance a tad. BUT. The roads are AMAZING, no cars, smooth asphalt, nice climbs (nothing too brutal so you could seriously hoon it) and I'd imagine nice weather. But I can't confirm that.

Also this place: Villa Maria, in Fuentes de Bejar is awesome. Run by Liz and Javier it smacks of Cuba circa 1970, they offer museli as well as toast in the mornings and the rooms are just lush. Having said that it is in a really rather ugly little town, next to an even uglier town, nestled in the middle of sweet fanny adams nothing except great roads.

Untapped potential people, untapped potentail. Who's game?