1. Just an icon

    Shimla to Leh

    The Himalaya's proved great biking territory when we treked across Tibet and certainly worth a second trip. This time we were on the Indian side of the border doing the classic trip from Shimla to Leh. The last day of work before the holiday and there was a noticeable lack of radio chatter - perhaps our best prepared trip ever? Time will tell. We met up at the airport coming from a variety of directions but as ever the Wyatt van made an appearance loaded with kit. With our calorie starved previous trips in mind I turned up with several boxes of power bars to hand out. At this point they were free which prompted some debate on how the market price of a power bar might rise as the trip, and hardships, progressed. Even Steve 'not a care in the world' Wyatt seemed to have learnt from his experiences and popped an extra one in his bag 'just in case'. After all the trips we have done it was familiar sensation wheeling straining trolleys into the departure lounge checking out each other's packing strategies - making sure bikes get to the other end of a long haul flight in a fit state to ride requires some careful choices.




  1. Just an icon


    Borneo for Christmas? With this seemingly innocent question a holiday was born and with it a very different Christmas atmosphere than your classically traditional affair. Much heavier on the jungle, leeches, lack of oxygen, table tennis, pigs jaws, rain and much lighter on the presents under the tree (although there was no shortage of trees), last minute present shopping, traditional Christmas lunch than most years I've survived so far. Being away for Christmas does have the draw back that just prior to leaving, commonly a time to panic about all manner of things connected with traveling, becomes a time to rush around the country taking in as many Christmas activities as possible. Parents and sister missions completed it only remained, with some particularly last minute planning, on the last night before we flew to deliver a sofa bed to Eleanor's father and we were set for the off....



  1. Just an icon

    New years eve 2006

    It's always interesting, the first few moments of a hangover. Like a thief in the night consciousness creeps back into the body, desperate not to make a disturbance in case pain wakes up. So begins the slow process of quietly levering open the eyes for a brief glimpse of the hopefully familiar surroundings. Undoubtedly there is a hangover waiting to pounce, all the warning signs are there; eyes glued shut, check. Part of the Sahara camped in the mouth - check. The moisture once contained in mouth dribbled over the pillow - check. A distinct feeling that your head is several sizes too small - check. No memory of how you got here, or where here is - double check. Time for the time honoured game of 'who am I?', or for the Buddhists out there, 'which life is this'? A part of me argues that asking the thief to rummage through the memory cupboards is asking for the splintering crash of a particularly delicate memory being dropped onto a hard floor, but surely the risk is worth the prize, it might turn out that pain waking up is the least of our troubles....