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Weekend road trip4
neil posted in Travel on May 29th, 2007

As earlier posts indicate, Fraser and I spent the bank holiday weekend in Fort William, Golspie and Laggan sampling the highlands finest man-made singletrack. Running out of fuel, breaking rear mech hangars, falling off north shore, toppling sideways while clipped in and drinking real ale. Good times. Photos are here.

Riding the Golspie Highland Wildcat trails0
neil posted in Travel on May 29th, 2007

A moment of silence, blank sensations. Nothing through the grips, nothing through the pedals. A short eternity of gliding through the air. A gentle whump of landing on the downslope of the dropoff, the noise returns, sound and feeling. I scarcely notice. The inclined slab of the next drop is coming.

We spent the morning in Golspie (north of Inverness) exploring the nearby tracks while the Sutherland Raid finished on the main built trails of Golspie. Bertie had put us up the night before. His friend Dave had just finished rebuilding his rear wheel after a big crash. So Dave came too. Because Dave was coming, his flatmate Donald came too. We cycled through fields of bluebells and in front of castles. We got lost, we got out. We finished up at the top of the short (but sweet) red run down through the woods. The built trail here is very “spooky wood”. Smooth, big berms, big jumps, sweet drop offs. One section I popped a lip nicely and looked down to see I’d just cleared a gaping hole between the rocks. Good stuff but I knew I was stiff and awkward around the corners and sucking the jumps.

Lunch and half a cup of coffee we started climbing up for the black route. “The black uphill is technical” warned Dave. He was bang on. You had to think, plan and hit the uphill obstacles at the right speed with the the right attitude. Brilliant. My vision narrowed, vignetting, my muscles were warm and my mental mp3 player was playing “for whom the bell tolls” by Metallica. Trance, heavy concentration, the zone. Thankfully I was well into the zone when I hit 0.5km of trail named Lactic Ladder.

Its a beast, a steep climb over rock, up rock slab ramps, up rock steps (many over a foot) and around narrow twists. I stopped twice, Dave hot my heels. I collapsed each time over the bike, muscles burning, heavy tears of sweat pouring from my helmet into space. Completely happy. The trail rose towards the Duke of Sutherlands statue and here Mon U Mental began. Downhill, berms and then an awesome section of loose scattered rock curving up and down with more rock obstacles. Speed and 130mm of travel took Cammy and I across like a stone skipping from wave to wave. The fun continued over a sucession of ramps and rocky chutes and down into the darkness of the forest. Slick huge rocks arranged beautifully to challenge and frighten. I took a SPD moment and toppled sideways while still clipped in, banging my shin against a sharp rock. Leg armour saved me an uncomfortable limp down the hill and I only had torn trousers and a slight bruise on my hip. Confidence dented I finished the run conservatively. Following Donald down the last section into a wide sweeping skid. A moment of slient thanks for making it down the run, interupted only by the gentle hiss of Donalds second inner-tube of the day deflating.

We then dived onto the red run again for the finale. Silky smooth and wide open compared to the black, we flew into corners and were belted back out again over dropoffs and tabletops. Time and time again there was the aforementioned moment of silence. Occasionally though it was broken by the clanking of Dave’s rear mech as he hunted me down on his fully rigid bike. I just revelled in my newly found flow and slam-danced away over the boulder path that finished the day. It was only when I got off the bike that I noticed my legs were jelly and I had been in the granny ring the whole time.

Orange Lodge of Scotland homepage hacked?0
neil posted in Travel on May 23rd, 2007

While researching a possible project on the three hundred year old Union between England and Scotland I stumbled across the Grand Orange Lodge of Scotland website looking like this:

My name is Hapana Asante0
neil posted in Travel, Neil, Tanzania on May 23rd, 2007

The day after the safari we travelled to Arusha. Tanzania’s third largest town and main base for safari expeditions. Our arrival was delayed by judges being rushed past in police vehicles. Apparently a trial connected with the Rwandan Genocide was being conducted in the city. We drove into the centre of town in our huge green truck and stopped near a bank. The flycatchers descended rapidly. They were by and large friendly, overly so sometimes, and want us to come back later, see their shop or let them show us around. They were selling trinkets, tinga-tinga paintings and English language newspapers. They would’nt not take no for an answer in Swahili or English. The rough guide suggests “hapana” or “no” or “hapana asante” “no thankyou”. At this point the street seller may tell you his name is “Hapana Asante” or ask “why say that? That is wrong”. Once he latches on only the passage of time or a more likely customer will cause him to leave you alone. Eventually I started muttering in garbled Polish when approached and that appeared to do the trick.
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Refusing insistent offers of a guide we headed away from our goal, the central market. Sarah was hunting a particular style of African shirt for her betrothed and our fixer had told us this was the best place to go. The market was situated in a large busy square surrounded by muddy roads littered with crushed fruit. The porch and pavement of all the adjoining buildings were a hive of activity. Clattering foot powered sewing machines took up one side of the square. The market itself consisted of a series of stalls piled high with fruit under a high tin roof. The people here were too busy to bother us. However they were’nt selling shirts either.

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The hunt continued through a good number of shops. While the girls and George rumaged through a shop the size of a cupboard, a man sat outside taught me Swahili pronounciation and a teenager wandered over to show me a special handshake. Another youth tried to show us a shop we had already seen but then convinced us to follow him to a nearby craft market. This market was anounced by a tree sprouting cheap shoes like fruit, inside permanent market stalls were stuffed with shirts, carvings and art. Sarah was offered a shirt for $40 and managed to bargain it down to $18 before giving up. Suprisingly the youth did’nt insist we paid him for his guiding service and instead wandered off. We nipped into a cafe that had the rare luxury of a sit-down loo.

No photos this time. This was my first time into a “3rd world” city and I kept my SLR stowed. In hindsight I missed a lot of good pictures. However I felt wary and paranoid enough walking around the city and decided to err on the side of discretion (and keeping the camera for later photos). Later experiences on Zanzibar and conversations with people who had been around longer told me that I would have probably been fine.

Hakuna Matata! Next stop Kilimanjaro.

Fly Monkey toasters! Fly!5
neil posted in Photos, bikes, Travel, Neil, Sports on May 17th, 2007

So, last saturday while under the influence of excellent beer and an easy ride in Carron Valley, we signed up to ten under the ben (link). Our team name has been overshadowed by “Subliminal Fruit Pastille Mind Gulp Experience”, “The Flying Midgey Death Squad” and “Stephen Hawking’s kareoke machine” which shows that we were’nt the only ones drinking when we filled in the application form.

George, Fraser and I will be putting in ten hours of continuous mountainbike riding between us in the Lochaber rural complex. At race pace. Thats the killer, I can ride a bike for ten hours, I can easily ride one for three point three reoccuring. Can I race a bike for that length of time?

I’ve never raced before and the race is on the 9th of June (3 weeks from writing). To train I’ve built up my chameleon into a singlespeed (32:16 at the moment) and ridden it once so far. I’ve spent all week drinking masses of coffee and eating copius cakes at a course in Shrewsbury. Not exactly perfect preparation.

I shot the event last year and I know its in good fun, but I want to put in a good show. I’ll let you know how I get on.

Ngorogoro Crater0
neil posted in Photos, Travel, Neil, Tanzania on May 13th, 2007

Omari is under the truck with a jack and an enormous spanner. It does’nt look good. The crater rim descent, visible now from the park enterance, is steep and treacherous. Our tour company fixer, Mwangi, decides our vehicle is a lost cause.

“Grab your cameras and water and find seats in another car” he declares in accented English. Unfortunately we take him at his word and forget suncream and food. Crap. Sarah, Henry and I pile into a car with spare seats, three strangers and a driver called Godfery.

The descent is thankfully unventful. The morning makes us appreciate precisely how good a driver Omari is. We had a happy rythm of being able to take pictures from a stationary car with its engine off until we declared “Twendy!” or “Ready!”. Godfery moves on whenever he feels like it. The engine is routinely switched on just as my makeshift 400mm finally locks its focus in the morning light. Thankfully Sarah and Henry are more tolerant of my photography habit and don’t object to me diving between their legs (they were standing on the back seat) to make a picture of an animal before Godfery rolls off. Lack of sunscreen leads to desperate measures, Sarah improvises a hat and I sweat in long sleeves inside the car.

We get lucky and see three lions in a dip near the road. It is incredible how well they manage to hide in the grass. Its a shock when one surfaces much closer to us. They are panting in the sun and eyeing up their evening meal in the wildebeest herd nearby.

We seem to be avoiding elephants all morning so we ask Godfery if he can help us see one. This brings unintentional good fortune as while sitting near a lone elephant a hippo surfaces, poses for pictures and dives back into his river. We see another elephant and the girls quickly remark “Defitinely a boy!” which is evidenced by the fact it seems he has five legs.

With that our land cruiser scrambles out of the crater only to be stopped on the main road. The Tanzanian president is coming up from a cultural tour of the Serengeti. After some waiting around, two of our parties land cruisers run the one woman checkpoint and we are sent on our way. George is minorly traumatized after spending his morning with girls who put on makeup while on safari. He claims his smelly feet balance it out. Safari over, its time to move on to Zanzibar!

I am Mr Kevin ODonnell2
neil posted in Travel on May 4th, 2007

As before mentioned, there were elections yesterday. Unfortunatley for Scotland and fortunately for myself the counting system buggered up.

I was press passed into the counting hall for the resumption of counting on friday. I was with Adam Lyal’s witchery tour party to survey the snarled up mess that was the end of the count. Teams went through thousands of spoiled ballots watched intently by party agents. Overvoting, X’s where there should be numbers were very common.

We had to leave before many results were called as we are bound for London tonight. We did see the SNP get elected to an Edinburgh seat and a Labour candidate deliver a negative concession speech. Other fun was Adam sneaking up on members of the Greens.

Check the gallery for more shots.The eagle eyed amongst you will notice a fun name in the Exif.

In absentia0
neil posted in Travel on May 4th, 2007

Today Great Britain has voted. Nowhere are the stakes higher than in Scotland.

A country frustrated at being dragged into a war in Iraq, questioning the need for a nuclear arsenal in its sea lochs and nursing a centuries old grudge. All in different amounts depending on who you talk to. Scotland may be questioning the union that had its three hundredth birthday on tuesday. The SNP appear to have worked hard on this, but seem to have toned down their anti-union rhetoric of late. Perhaps because some polls show that a significant number of Scots support the union and in any case a Scot is about to take control of it. They have’nt slowed their campaigning however, on a bus trip Fort William to Edinburgh via Islay the SNP banner was nailed to trees in the middle of nowhere and lifted high above a construction site on a telehandler. It also was up in many more pedestrian places.

I could’nt vote. Poor planning and my work schedule precluded making my first vote in Scotland. My only hope is that I DID vote in a way by doing what I do. Heinlien mentions something like this in “Starship Troopers”. While I write this Alicia is busy making pictures as Adam Lyal (a highwayman who died on the 27th March 1811) watches the count in the Highland Hall near Edinburgh (a bit like putting the Angel of the North in Leicester Square). If elected he will arrive pale faced and cloaked in the eccentric Scottish parliment building in the body of Euan MacInnes. Its a bit odd but I’m just glad no one is running with the mecha-Nessie platform.

The BBC’s Brian Taylor is blogging very hard here.