Last September, at 14 stone 10 and 5 ft 6 I was decidedly robust. My son had left his Scott hybrid at home while he was in London (wanted something less nickable) and I took it out for a few spins, feeling quite smug at doing five miles on it, then seven, then ten. I decided to get more serious.
I was doing session work in a recording studio and mentioned to the engineer that I fancied getting into cycling and was looking at bikes. The engineers little eyes lit up with evangelical fervour. I still feel a sense of shame at the way the music was instantly ditched in favour of scouring the net for a bike when we were supposed to be laying down sensitive keyboard arrangements.
But he knew his stuff. He advised me to forget about the flash gear for now and find out first of all what sort of cycling I would settle into. Living in Cumbria I had visions of going off the beaten track along forestry trails, armed with camera and lenses searching for elusive and shy wildlife. He steered me away from suspension (cost too much for proper tackle) disc brakes (cost too much again) and persuaded me that the bike I wanted for now was a Sirrus Sport from my LBS which was in the autumn sale. I went round a few bike shops but ended up with the Sirrus. Once I found out what I wanted, then I would get something a bit tasty.
9 months later, 2 stone lighter, I spend a lot more time on the road and less on the trails than I thought I would. I've clocked up 1700 miles (would have been more but for one or two setbacks) and now feel the day is not complete without at least 13 miles on the bike round a favourite route which includes some 13% gradients. Well, this is Cumbria.
I fancy something like a croix de fer, or a GT grade AL105. Or maybe a Cannondale Synapse.... except that I really really like the Sirrus. I'm very comfortable, I get up to 35 mph on it which is near enough to hooliganism at my age (66 in July) and I'm having a job persuading myself that I'll enjoy cycling more on a dearer bike.
My mate tells me that I'm a label snob (he has a Bianchi Cameleonte so he should talk) but I do get wistful when I see someone sailing past on something exotic.
Meanwhile I'll just carry on getting more and more nerdy about tiagras, 105s, Mavics, SRAM, etc.
She knows no bounds. After spending a week in the Yorkshire Dales, seeing men and women of all ages going up those hills. Somehow you need to persuade the Mrs to join you. I love it when we go out together, and we have a joint love to talk about that doesn't involve the children (3,6,9).
