Photo-story - Where my bike’s been

[StreetCowboy]

1 hour ago, MrTrip said:

good luck with that

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1 hour ago, StreetCowboy said:

...

I've got no idea what to expect, other than a bit of abject humiliation being the first person to be lapped.

 

SC

It's good to have clear expectations and goals.

[StreetCowboy]

We had a last training ride before the big race tomorrow.  The Masters' category is for over-35s, so we'll be racing against kids who were born in kilograms, not pounds and ounces, whose grandparents could adapt to decimalisation.  The entries are ranked in order of age, and out of 22 entrants, our team are the oldest five.

 

I think the youngsters will be racing alongside us, anyway; there's only seven in the "Novice" 19 - 34 category.  The serious youngsters are in the Elite 19 - 34 category, and they're not listed.  I think they have to pre-qualify.  There's no Elite oldies category, so that doesn't bode well for us.

 

Anyway, we raked round through a nearby suburb in light rain; the traffic lights were with us down the main road, and clocked a second-fastest time without too much effort - these skinny 28 mm tyres are great.

 

We had to wait for Young A, who's not racing tomorrow, but when we didn't, I got a personal best down past the old airport, and I realised that tomorrow's race is going to be a lot faster than I'd thought...

 

I cleaned the bike and tinkered with the gears and brakes, so I'll probably not even get to the stadium tomorrow.  I've raised the saddle half an inch and dropped the nose a few millimetres to give my knees more pedaling space below my beer gut when I'm crouched down.  My target is to be not the only person lapped.

[StreetCowboy]

I also had the target of not being lapped by The Old Boy.  I think  I only managed that because he got lapped.

 

The ride out to Cheras was not very nice, which was a pleasant surprise, as I'd been expecting bleak misery.  My buddy was right that there was no need to get there so early, and we had a lot of waiting around to do.  Luckily, the rain stopped before our race.  Less luckily, it restarted again before our race.  

 

The race was shortened to 10 minutes plus two laps at the start line, as my buddy pointed out (his Bahasa Malayu is better than mine, thanks to some years in Indonesia as a young man), and there was standing water all round the track.  By now, my mood had descended from enthusiasm to stoic perseverance to sanguine, surly belligerence, and finally to gloomy resignation.

 

Anyway, eventually, after a false count "Lima, Empat.."
"Oi! Just count from three this time, eh?"

As I expected, the blokes at the start line were fannying about with their clips, holding me back.  THen the first U-turn and... 'come on lads! Can't you go a bit faster' round the bend and ...

"... where's everybody gone? They've all pissed off without me!"   Luckily for the first lap I could still see people ahead, as there were a lot of nasty turns, particularly in the wet.  I was catching young M, but he passed my buddy and shortly I did too "I'm not doing so well,"I said, "but I'm still ahead of one bloke, and he's on a motorbike!"  

I don't know if we'll get a time of +1 lap or Did Not Finish.  

 

Luckily, by the time we'd knocked off all the ciders Young D had brought, the weather was brightening up, and those of us that were cycling set off homeward.  "I feel like we're still racing", M said.  It was fifteen kilometres later I had the breath to say "We are, but now we've got a destination and an incentive - cider at Silly Billy's", and then he was off like a rocket.

A Day At The Races, with an ambulance close at hand...

[StreetCowboy]

Normally, when someone passes me with a few km to go, I think to myself - "Well, I might not reach 100% of your speed, but I'll reach 100% of your distance", and see them in the pub.   I didn't see any of the sparky young fellas that lapped us in Silly Billy's this afternoon; just sayin'...

To be fair, we'd stopped for a couple of cans at the stadium before we'd set off.  Nothing sets off an exotic tropical adventure as the call of exotic jungle birds like two cans.

 

 

Safely back home

[StreetCowboy]

We went back to Kuala Selangor, and it’s a long way there at the best of times, but M was not keen to miss Batu Arang, with its distinctive tourist information signs styled like a brickworks chimney, and 22 sites of historic interest, including some old mineworkers’ Cottages. Anyway, it’s a long way there, and I’d pretty much had enough of it by the time we reached Bukit Melawati, and then we had to come home.  Dopey exhaustion took me on two wrong turnings but luckily, M was made of sterner stuff: “Are you sure this is the right way?”

”Let’s check the map - you’re right, I’m wrong, but if you don’t mind I’ll take the opportunity of stopping for a bit of a wheeze and a whinge”

The next time he was more assertive at the new roundabout “Oi! Left! Just go round” luckily the drivers noticed my confusion and gave us a wide berth.

I was still struggling, though a good dump at the final drink stop lightened my load and brightened my mind; at least I could safely break wind now.

If I could’ve faced sitting at the side of the road for two hours, I’d have said, in not quite Captain Oates fashion, “Listen, chaps, I’m done for; you carry on, and come back in the truck for me”.  But that would’ve been seven by the time we got to the pub, and I couldn’t say “at least I gave it 100% distance”, so I struggled on.

 

As it was, it was back of six by the time we got to the pub, and the others drifted off to domestic obligations. It took me several pints before I felt fit to cycle home, and even then, I’m not sure a magistrate would’ve agreed.

[StreetCowboy]

I’d been out on Saturday morning with Young D, who’d lied about his age to race with the Crumblies, even though the youngsters were racing at the same time. He’d brought along his mate, whom we’ll call Jo, for the sake of anonymity, despite that being his name.

Anyway, he’d Just unpacked his bike, and discovered the saddle was too low.  Luckily I had the requisite Allen  key; unfortunately, the seat post seemed to be well and truely seized; and the abuse we gave it distressed his saddle rail mounting, but I had the Allen key to flog that up too.

 

Anyway, I lost all sympathy when he went flying past me; I hate chasing people because they don’t know where we’re going.

 

I’d carefully planned the ride for quiet roads, and we did take in some lovely quiet easily overlooked roads.  In retrospect, instead of looking for quiet roads, I should’ve avoided frantic thoroughfares, and there were a couple of junctions that I would describe as challenging, rather than family-friendly.

 

You may recall that when Young D first came out with us, he and the New Boy, relying on the New Boy’s experience, rather than his ever-failing sense of direction, had got lost on the New Pantai Expressway; I was taking no chances this time, and took us through at street level, confident that traffic handling and route familiarity would keep me at the front.

 

We came over the new junction where the property development is swamping Bukit Gasing forest park, and did a bit of exploring to come across this Qi Gong assembly

And some construction next to an old cemetery

 

Anyway, Jo was struggling with his poor bike set-up, and lack of recent riding, and after having to chase him down at the start of the ride, I wasn’t sad to leave him and Young D to head back to D’s place while I made my own way home at my own pace; I got a fastest time at Jalan Bruas because normally I stop there for a breather with the people who’ve been waiting for me...

[StreetCowboy]

At the weekend I suffered from finishing late on Saturday morning, in time for a lunch time pint, and early on Sunday, in time for a lunch time pint.

 

Two days of local exploring saw us (specifically, me, as navigator) get a bit confused en route to the Kepong Metropolitan Lake Garden, and I can't really explain why we went down the dirt road instead of the adjacent tarmac street; although in retrospect the New Boy's distress was quite entertaining, and somehow his Fondriest seemed to hold the dirt much better than my tractor. 

If you can imagine him baptising his bike in the lake to wash the mud off, you can imagine why I was unable to hold the camera straight to get a photo.  

 

We found ourselves on another rough construction road, and I was terrified it was going to turn soft; I would have been mortified to put him through that again.  Shortly after, we found a bloke with a hose watering his garden, and it was all smiles again.

 

It looks like Sid's in the countryside is closed indefinitely for demolition or renovation of the buildings; all the nearby shops are closed, including the ropey breakfast place and the decent breakfast place, so we'd soldiered on to Mont Kiara, and that took us over the 50 km, and past noon, and just time for a lunchtime pint, which turned into an afternoon watching the rugby, and ended only barely able to cycle home; luckily my lights are permanently fitted.  

 

Sunday we went South of the Federal Highway, and tried to find a back way from USJ to Petaling Jaya (there seems to be none) but it did take us through a graveyard of old cars - Austin Morris', Mustangs, Minis, all sorts.  Some Rollers nearby... and some really old (1930s or 40s) cars in the course of refurbishment.    I think the really sad looking cars were donors that had given their all so that other cars might be returned healthy to their owners or sold to return to the road.  But it was enough to put you off walking round the back court of a hospital that does a lot of transplants.  We came back the way we normally go out past the rugby stadium and the LRT depot, and I can see why we normally do it in the opposite injury - I've never seen so many No Entry signs!

 

I didn't bother going to the Selangor Criterium race on Saturday morning, even though it was an easier course with less sharp bends; easier in that respect, but a bit challenging, kicking off at 0730, so that would've met leaving home well before 0600 to cycle there in the dark.   And a lucky escape, too.  The last rider reported in the Men's Category D was reported as averaging 35 km/h for half an hour.

 

Next weekend our ex-Project Director has arranged a ride and I've said I can't make it if he starts before 0730.  We'll be raking up the Guthrie Highway, Latar Highway to Rawang for pancakes, and then back - probably the same way to make it 100+ km and avoid getting to the pub too early.

 

[StreetCowboy]

I’m sat here in the Chinese Children’s Pub recovering from 100 km before noon; we’d agreed to join the former PD (remember when we misplaced him between Federal Hill and Semantan, near the old Jalan Damansara?) for an 0730 start. Well that means leaving TAman Tun when it’s still dark.

The alarm buzzed, and I shot out of bed; relaxed, and as I was brushing my teeth, thought “That’s the hardest part of the ride done”

The first Imam started off at 0537 “Hellloooo Glassgoooow!” while I was drinking my coffee. 0615 maybe 0617 down at the station; just time to lower the nose of my saddle, in case I should ever want more children; my buddy arrived, tweaked his gears, and we were off.  It was still as dark as The Bongo Club in Middlesbrough, and my buddy had discovered a curious and inexplicable correlation between his right brake and his headlight.

we got out to the start point with two minutes to spare; we were at a petrol station, and I was set for popping in to buy some sugary soft drinks, but A the Architect arrived, and we noticed the Project Director loitering by a traffic island in the middle of the road. A the Architect has been off the bike since the birth of his first child, and he looks more like a father than a cyclist now, but that will help him on the downhills. Anyway, once the guys who had gone to the wrong start point turned up, we were off!

 

Guthrie Highway motorcycle lane is rank with cyclists at the weekend, like something out of a Hitchcock movie.  We had a fairly uneventful ride   to the outskirts of Rawang for lempang, which is more or less a Malay roti teluar, as far as I can tell.

”From here, we can go back with the others, or home via Route 1, over the hill to Selayang; there are two draw-backs to that plan; first, it’s only about 80 or 90 km, but worse, we’ll be in the pub by 11”

”I’ve got domestic commitments”

”Me too” concurred M, so we went back with the others. 

 

My buddy and I pulled off at Elmina, but waited to make sure A the Architect went past safely, as he was struggling, and dropped three minutes back.

 

Anyway, I was glad to get back to Chinese Children’s Pub, for a Breakfast of Champions, with food as well.

 

Anyway, although it was 100 km, it was not as hard as Saturday’s ride; I’m sure Other M was chundering into the back of some bloke’s pick-up half-way up The Wall, but he said it was only cramp

“It’s cramp, lads, I’ll be fine”

”Not if that bloke comes out and sees the banana puree and diced carrots in his truck”

[Isaanbiker]

Well, it doesn't say in Thailand. I'm wondering if anybody will find out where my bike has been........???

[StreetCowboy]

12 minutes ago, Isaanbiker said:

Well, it doesn't say in Thailand. I'm wondering if anybody will find out where my bike has been........???

You don’t see two unicyclists parking in the same place that often

[StreetCowboy]

13 minutes ago, Isaanbiker said:

Well, it doesn't say in Thailand. I'm wondering if anybody will find out where my bike has been........???

Shouldn’t that be in the “Where’s my bike gone?” Thread?

[StreetCowboy]

Don't tell the boss I was out today - I'm signed off on sick leave till next week recovering from Dengue Fever.  The New Boy took me out for a gentle recovery ride on his single-speed (I think you've seen photos of that before, with the surprise bottle holder under his saddle).  His original proposal was to retrace his steps from the first time that he joined us, when he found himself the wrong side of Mid-Valley Mega Mall in the fading light somewhat the worse for afternoon ciders, but I didn't fancy that.

 

So instead we celebrated the investiture of the Agong (a simple village boy, if his TV interview is to be believed), we celebrated with a ride into the city centre via the Federal Highway.  You've seen the Kota Dahrul Ehsan often enough.  And the bloody Twin Towers.  We took a short cut (that's euphemism for gravel dirt track) to Kampung Baru, and I could tell the New Boy was not happy.  At least it was dry and firm; no need to seek out a bloke with a hose this week.

 

There was a football game going on in Kampung Baru as we passed, but we didn't stop to watch.  The New Boy was all set to turn right behind the Putra World Trade Centre, but I took us left, the usual way up past the sign-board that you've seen too many times; when I quizzed him, he reckoned we could have avoided the hill by heading up Jalan Kuching, but that is a pretty hectic road.  Anyway, my way we got a descent down into Taman Tunku past where Sid's has closed pending renovation or demolition of the buildings.

 

From there, it's not a nice junction into the Duta Government Offices - you need to cross to the third and fourth lanes across traffic fanging it off the highway, but today "No - traffic!  Wait ... Steady .... OK - they're giving way!"- a couple of vans slowed down to let us across and we were up passed the Federal Territories Mosque, and off to Publika, near Mont Kiara, for breakfast. I should've taken a photo of the girls sitting a couple of tables away.

 

The plan had been to head back through the tunnel, but that would have been easier via Sri Hartemas (the wrong-road entry to the highway is relatively safe, if you keep well into the kerb) but instead, we turned left, as if planning to take the legal road to the tunnel.  As if!  The traffic lights were green, in any case, so it would have been difficult to get across for the U-turn, so instead we carried on down the highway.  I turned off to come home through the golf course, and so did the New Boy, who still had his heart set on going through the tunnel, whichever direction; I thought he would enjoy the little hill past the park on his single-speed, but it was easier than I remembered.  I turned off for home, and the NEw Boy looped back through the tunnel.  

[MrTrip]

Wow, thought you’d been off the radar for a while.
Get well soon[emoji1303]


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[StreetCowboy]

5 hours ago, MrTrip said:

Wow, thought you’d been off the radar for a while.
Get well soon


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Last Wednesday, I went to the doctor, and she said, “Dengue, go straight to the hospital” but I thought it was too far to cycle in my poorly state, so I went home to drop my bike and took a taxi.

[StreetCowboy]

Johnny No-Mates rides BangsarThere weren’t even any consultants in the pub on the way home.

 

The dengue fever seems to be fully cleared, though

[StreetCowboy]

It's going to be quiet for the next little while, as I am off Returning to the Glorious Motherland for three weekends starting this evening.  The best you can hope for - the worst you can hope for - is a match report from Scotland v France at Murrayfield on the way back.

 

Last time I went to see Scotland play France, we got beaten by Argentina.  I cried.

[MrTrip]

Summer is in full swing, enjoy [emoji4]




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[StreetCowboy]

7 hours ago, MrTrip said:

Summer is in full swing, enjoy




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More chance of a pedalo than a bike ride

[StreetCowboy]

As mentioned previously, I’m back in The Old Country for a couple of weeks, and the town is rank with practical cyclists,

including some cargo bikes

He’s not being sick, he’s fishing for something out his cavernous cargo hold.

[StreetCowboy]

I had agreed to a midnight ride to Bukit Bloke That Sells Drinks, departing Taman Tun station at 0700. My plans for an early night didn’t quite reach full fruition, but at least I got downto Centrepoint to buy a sandwich for breakfast; and a few pints of cider, which I did not save for breakfast.  Fortunately for both of us, my cycling buddy was not there, and if I hadn’t had a few cans of Tiger in the fridge, I might have been in bed close to eleven.

 

I was on time at the station, though I was still the last one there; although Young D who’d lied about his age to race with the Crumblies sloped off for a wazz in a nearby underground car park. The Third Man waiting was a new fellow from a neighbouring suburb. His bike looked a bit sculpted, and I didn’t heft it for weight (it looked like a full hefting would be excessive) but it did almost blow away later while we were at lunch.

 

I had a carefully planned route to get to Bukit BTSD, but the 3rd man suggested just going along the highway; it actually was not significantly shorter than going through town, but it was a lot faster, so I doubt I will be doing that again soon.

 

Bukit BTSD is 15 km at an average of 3% (8%, to anyone that says they caught a fish that size |<-     ->|). Early on a weekend morning it’s rank with cyclists, and not all scrawny young whippersnappers who don’t look big enough to drink a pint, even if they’re old enough.  And obviously enough, there is a bloke at the summit that sells drinks out the back of his car.

I’d set myself a target, before yesterday evening, of making it to the top with only one stop for a virtual cigarette. Well that was before yesterday, and today was after. And also after that ridiculous race along the Duke Highway. I needed two stops in the last five km, where the gradient steepens, but made it in the end; and the others were still waiting, remarkably patiently.

The road down is rough as dogs, and I felt I was in danger of losing my fillings. It’s a twisty, turny sort of road, with close vegetation, so despite the gradient, my fastest speed of the day was still on the highway. I was glad to get back into town and smooth roads; I was not so happy that our side of KL has a lot of little hills, and the way home was a greater struggle than usual.

The other guys had other commitments, but I thought I should stop on the way home to keep you guys informed; in the Chinese Children’s Pub, which still has a 3 for 2 deal on Magner’s cider

[StreetCowboy]

Before the ride on Saturday The New Boy was regaling us with his Drunken <deleted> stories, leading up to the shocking revelations that he had 

a) stopped drinking on the evenings before bike rides, and more worryingly,

b) stopped drinking after bike rides.

Does it still count as cycling if you don’t wobble on the way home?

I can’t see that lasting beyond the Langkawi ride in a fortnight, where the bevvy is duty-free

[StreetCowboy]

Last Sunday’s ride was a bit of an anti-climax after (or maybe because) Saturday. Up the highway to Rawang, an unsuccessful pancake stop (the pancake wallah knocks off at 11) and home via the old Route 1, which is no longer such an intimidating hill as it once was.

 

I was still knackered though.  I’d decided to try out coming back on the highway, for a change, and got a bit disoriented and confused, wrongly thinking we had missed our turn-off.  Luckily, M is made of sterner stuff, and set me right.

 

Today we almost went to Rawang counter-clockwise; we had a bit of route unfamiliarity trying to find a nicer way past Kepong, requiring a bit of carrying the bikes over drainage ditches; I suppose that might have made a good photo.

 

Then I got a bit confused at the approach to the highway turn-off before Rawang, but I’ll remember next time.  There was a little hatchback with a crumpled boot being loaded onto a tow truck who presumably suffered the same confusion, but in front of less considerate and cautious drivers than we were blessed with.

 

As we’d been coming through the outskirts of Kepong, past the Forestry Research Institute of Malaysia, Young D (who’d lied about his age to race with the crumblies) asked “So is this Rawang?”

”Good Lord, no! Rawang’s miles away; but we’re not going to Rawang - we’re     going Almost to Rawang”; I mistook his silence for acceptance, rather than confusion.

Heading North, Jalan Rawang does not seem as hard as I imagine it would be flying down Southward on Jalan Selayang. Only the last bit of the climb is tough, for maybe a kilometre. Or 800 metres. Or just over 600 metres.  Oxygen starvation prevents me remembering the mileage on my bike computer as we turn on to the steep part.

As we were coming back down Guthrie Highway, or maybe through Elmina, the New Boy asked “Is there a shorter way back? I thought it was only going to be 70 km and I’m on 70 now”

”No; I’ll be on 70 - I don’t know about you” (he has a few extra km from home to get to the start).

Ten or fifteen minutes later, he asked “Where are we now, then?”

”Kota Damansara; less than 10 km from home”

”So what happened to Rawang?”

and I had to explain again that Almost was a synonym for Not, and there were happy smiles all round again.  Until we found out that the roti man at Bandar Utama also knocked off at 11, and we’d just missed him.  So curry puffs all round

[StreetCowboy]

We went back to the Palace of the Golden Horses yesterday, and stopped for a photo.

As usual, the security guards wouldn't let us ride round the lane behind the horse-racing stadium, so we took a couple of photos at the Palace ... hotel opposite (above) and headed home.

 

I was more disappointed than surprised at the number of navigational stops and misjudgements, but we got there in the end, and more importantly, got back to the pub, where they had reserved our table.

 

 

[StreetCowboy]

If we’re going to draw Classical Greek analogies, you could say Troy had fallen, but I’ve yet to start the Odyssey homeward.

I left KL on Thursday night after loading the bikes into the car on Wednesday; stopped overnight in a hotel in Sungei Patani; I don’t know if I was more unsurprised, disappointed or fortunate to discover it was dry.

Then another hour on the road to Kuala Kedah, where I was <deleted> about by con-men regarding loading the bikes onto the ferry. Anyway, nothing lost but money I was relieved to get safely to Langkawi just around mid-day..

Unloaded in Langkawi

 

I’d booked a hotel in a chalet close to the Yacht Club where the rest of the cider cycling club were staying; I’d checked Agoda again on Wednesday, and it seemed very close, and even closer to the ferry terminal. Suspiciously close.

Ten minutes on the internet, and I discovered that was not the hotel; that was the pier where the boats depart for Pulau Tuba. Now, spirit of adventure, leap into the unknown notwithstanding, I was not going all that way to miss the race because I couldn’t get a boat back to the main island for an 0630 start.

Luckily, I was able to get a room at the Yacht Club, which is less than a kilometre from the ferry terminal; no doubt you can imagine the raging thirst with which I arrived, but the barman could pour Tigers as quickly as I could drink them, though I did my best. 

Safely arrived at the Yacht Club Hotel

[StreetCowboy]

The race pack collection was just up the road on the far side of the ferry terminal, and I collected my own, and for the rest of the team, who arrived over the course of the afternoon and evening. You may recall that the New Boy is off the drink, and suffered sorely from substituting tea for Tiger as his bedtime ripple. He did negotiate early breakfasts, though, and we were on the road by 0630, and met another Heathen Scotch Git on a fixie en route to the start.

As usual, we had more hanging about as the competition arrived

But eventually we were off on the Langkawi Legends ride.

Last weekend, M had asked “So will that be a race?”

”Maybe at the front...”

But soon enough we were off; I knew I couldn’t keep the initial pace, but I didn’t want to relax until my mates went past. There was a hilly section, and I was counting down the mileposts, which seemed distressingly far apart, until I lost confidence in my odometer; should I be counting down to the nominal 101 km, or 104? You can imagine my relief when the finish line came up at 98 km, but I’d still had enough, and just wanted to get off the bike and not get back on

”Do you want something to eat?”

”No. Tiger”

”You need to collect your finisher’s medal first”

”Can I cycle there?”

”Yes”

I’m normally not competitive, but I got to the hotel bar in time to get the ciders in before the lads arrived

Not competitive

 

Everyone has a Finisher’s Medal, but the others haven’t even started

Happily resting bikes

That moment when lunchtime rolls over into dinner time 

I don’t remember it being in quite such sharp focus

[StreetCowboy]

The other lads headed back to the airport and KL on Sunday, but I stayed on for another day, despite the dreadful traffic back to KL at the end of a holiday weekend.  I took the opportunity for some local sight-seeing; unfortunately the nearest reputable beach was 21 km away, which was a bit too far for a leisurely ride.

First stop was Dataran Lang (Eagle Square)

Then Taman Lagenda (Legends Park) with statues and displays representing Malaysian legends; there was an enormous crocodile statue, but I didn't get a photo of it; I think it was a statue, anyway. 

I did take a photo of what looked like a haunted house
 

I'm not sure of the story behind this one, I'll let you chaps make up your own to suit your imaginations

 

And I think this amphiteahtre was used to host gladiatorial fights to the death, involving forcing your opponent to stand on a rusty nail sticking out of the stage floor

 

There's a scruffy little beach behind the park... pleasant enough for a seat by the sea by the way if it's overcast as it was

 

and then a little tour down by the seaside through the town

 

On Monday we said goodbye to the Yacht Club and packed up and headed off

 

Unlike Kuala Keda, at Kuah jetty we were waved straight through to the waiting room to board the ferry; no "Cannot take bikes on board, new rule, too difficult... need to wrap" nonsense.

 

Unfortunately, the ferry was an hour late and the waiting room was crowded with people taking the shorter route to Kuala Perlis - I think three Perlis ferries left while we were waiting; the PA announcements were unintelligible whether in Malay or English, it was all Greek to me.

 

You can see the Yacht Club from the ferry terminal

Eventually we got on the right ferry.   I should've booked an earlier boat, as it was 1430 by the time we got to the Mainland and got the bikes packed into the car.  Kuala Kedah is a bit less salubrious than Langkawi...

 

Anyway, we loaded the bikes into the car and set off homeward.  As expected, the traffic extended the journey from about five hours to eight, and the smog from Indonesia cast an eerie apocalyptic shadow as he passed through the mountains around Ipoh in the twilight.

 

The race results were published quickly, so we could review and discuss our performance on Saturday evening in the bar.  I finished ahead of someone, so that's as much as could be expected, and provides plenty of opportunity for improvement.  I was surprised that I lost places on the second half of the ride - I'd expected to be passing people who were flagging from 70 km onwards.  Maybe I got a bit carried away with pace at the start of the ride.

 

Anyway, it was a great weekend, but I'm not sure if I'll do it again next year.  I might fly next time, as well, but that would mean buying a bike bag.  

 

SC

 

[n210mp]

Great pics Jon and interesting descriptions hahaha, kep them coming!

 

[StreetCowboy]

1 hour ago, n210mp said:

Great pics and interesting descriptions hahaha, kep them coming!

 

I can recommend Langkawi for a cycling weekend.  I would suggest getting the ferry from Kuala Perlis, where there is a more frequent passenger service and also a Roll on Roll off car ferry, if you are not flying.

 

I don't know if there is a direct ferry from Phuket; there must be some ferry from Thailand as the ferry terminal had an international departures, I think

[StreetCowboy]

Another weekend, another away-day.  This time my buddy drove us up to the Cameron Highlands, and then in the morning we cycled down from where the roads get a bit safer.  50-over kilometres of downhill, but with a bit of a headwind that made the first few kilometres feel like cycling through treacle.

 

The mountains are dramatic (I didn't get any good limestone karst pictures so here's a picture from a previous trip up that way)

Imagine what the view must have been like before the mountains were all quarried for highways and tower blocks. 

 

but this was the view from my hotel window

 

It was certainly a nicer ride than Saturday's Marlboro Classic through the smog from Indonesia.

[StreetCowboy]

I was going to write up this morning’s ride when I got home from the bank, but I stopped for a breakfast of champions, including food, at Chinese Children’s Pub, and if I compose the post here, there’s a good chance I’ll get rained in.

 

While I was editing an old Strava segment (moving the start to we’ll clear of the station, to make sure it excluded our loitering and assembly) I’d noticed a couple of similar segments we could do - basically loops round the highway and through the tunnel and back to my suburb.

 

It was just the quick boys - the New Boy, with his navigational frailties, and young D who’d lied about his age to race with the Crumblies.

 

Anyway, to cut a long story short, we raked round the first loop quick as we could.  I was disappointed the copper on speed camera duty at the tunnel exit didn’t call out our speed as we went past; then we stopped for a breather back at the station on the second loop.  After we passed the copper with the speed camera, the road block had been set up for the cars that were stopped, but when I asked, the coppers there said he’d not passed on our speed readings to them either.

 

There was no way I was stopping to take a picture of the copper with the speed camera when I was flying past near 50 kph, and I thought it prudent not to stop for a photo at the road block, either.

 

We’d failed to catch either of the two loop segments that we were looking for, so I had to define new segments which start clear of the junction and finish before it, so that you catch the segment regardless of where you came from, or where you’re going after