Like the Guinness advertisement from 1998, “Good things come to those who wait”. Probably. Tick, follows tock, follows tick (follows tock).

Do you wait for the right time to ride? Or do you ride unencumbered by time and conditions, start when you want and return when you feel like it. Or do you look at the hands of the clock knowing when you have to be home and go regardless.

I’m locked to time, I know when I can get out and roughly when I need to be back. Sometimes I’m joined by others, taking time out from their families and jobs, either early before most people are awake with quiet roads and quiet trails. Or late at night, after the chores of the day are done to unwind, find some singletrack and light it up. Sunrise or sunset riding.

Being constrained by time can be a good excuse to have a huge array of ‘stuff’, the stuff that makes riding fun regardless of the conditions. The right clothing is a must, a good jacket and gloves, maybe water resistant shorts, something to go under my helmet. And riding when time allows leads to the slow but steady growth of tools and spares in the shed, bikes that are ridden regardless need to be looked after because it can hurt to go to ride and find something wrong. Maintenance leads to quality time in the shed cleaning and tinkering.

There’s one thing that is missing from my list of ‘stuff’, something that Park or Pedros or Rapha or Evoc don’t sell.

A clock.

Tick Tock.

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At the start of Dust and Summer, Mark is stirred from his slumber by his iPhone alarm (other smart phones are available). No doubt he was dreaming of riding as he’s in his kit already. And from there in Dust and Summer takes a different path to the one that most readers will be familiar with …

Do you sleep in your riding kit?

Do you wake up on a sunny, dry day, stumble from a Spanish villa into a pristine workshop, faff with a new disk rotor, load up a van and go for a ride, all the while being filmed?

Didn’t think so.

I think if any of us slept in our riding kit we’d soon be single, or sleeping on the sofa. Or more likely in the garage. Once settled in there we’d probably fix that rotor after giving the bike a clean and maybe checking brake pads before getting some sleep and dreaming of dust, and summer.

No doubt when we awoke, cold and sore from a night in our bike storage, we’d find a phantom flat. A tyre that was inflated the night before that somehow has lost the willingness to hold air overnight. So we’d grab the other bike, the one that wasn’t cleaned the night before where the gears are a bit out and we’re really not sure how old the pads are, and go ride. Or, if the x = n + 1 theory hasn’t been applied we’d curse and find a tube, or worse still work out why the tubeless setup we’re so happy with suddenly let us down.

Then ride.

Dust? You’ll be lucky. Mud, grit, sludge and probably some tarmac or trail center hardcore.

Summer? Maybe, usually in spring or autumn. Brief moments when the rain forgets to fall and trails are dry, our selective memory shielding us from wet summer days when sealskinz and waterproof shorts are pulled from drawers so we can enjoy ‘summer’.

But the result is the same. Smiles. Who needs dusty Spanish singletrack when you’ve got a slippery muddy bridleway. Two wheel dusty drift Vs two wheeled slippery slide. The smiles are the same. As is the post ride beer.

Happy trails.

The post Dust & Summer: Reality Check appeared first on Joyriders.

On a recent trip to Spain, Evelyn and I were staying in the Alpujarras for a week of R&R – part of which was a planned hike up Mulhacén with an overnight stop at Las Siete Lagunas.

We set off from Trevélez (the highest village in Spain), with our alarm clock going off at 6:45am. It’s an hour later before we’re actually up and getting the tent packed away and the rest of our kit sorted. Breakfast is demolished – Alpujarran honey for extra energy.

“Intrepid Explorers my arse” as my cooking pots go flying!

Trevélez is steep and hard to navigate – this is probably the hardest part! Finally we near the top of the village and pick up our trail for Las Siete Lagunas. Rocky steps and a gentle plod as we wind our way out of the Trevélez valley. We pass small holdings, old shepherds, young shepherds on horseback and a few other fellow hikers. At the meadows (La Campiñela) we search out a very low looking spring, happy to find some water.

The final leg of the winding open trail brings us to the bottom of a steep waterfall. The going is tough and very loose in places – particularly with a large pack on your back.

“We’re going up that!”

However, we’re greeted with a magical sight! Las Siete Lagunas (the seven lakes) is a 3000 metre plateau, with one prominent lake feeding the waterfall. On higher, rocky ledges are the smaller lakes. It’s truly a magical place! There’s a chill in the air, but it’s so fresh. Ibex walk through our camp, two males duelling with each other – the clear winner, a hardened looking buck who investigates our camp with interest. We stow our food away, particually the cheese (which was our saviour on the way up)!

Feet are sore and legs ache. A wash in the ice cold spring and a spot of mountain yoga to loosen the legs.

We crawl into the tent early – after tea – to get warm. We’re apprehensive about tomorrow’s climb, but equally apprehensive about how cold it is up here. Will we be warm enough tonight? Ev hopes the Ibex won’t break in!

Why do we want to climb up a mountain?

• So we can feel comfortable when we get down?
• It’s Fun?
• Something new?

As we lie in the tent, slowly warming, I can’t help but notice how quiet it is. Apart from the odd munch of grass (I assume this was the Ibex, not Evelyn) and the odd whistle of the wind over the mountain tops, there are no other sounds. Deathly quiet.

The next morning we are greeted by the sun as it comes into view, its warmth rapidly filling the tent. It was a cold night, we were only just warm enough. It’s hard to gauge what kit you’ll need when the lower valleys are 30ºc. We stay in the tent for awhile, allowing the sun to warm our bones. I grab the down jacket and unzip the tent, the cold air pours in. I take a lung full of fresh mountain air and step out.

The view is stunning, fresh and awe-inspiring. Mulhacén’s peak bears down on us, beckoning.

With the cold night, the springs being dryer than normal and a limited supply of cooking gas, we decide to head down that day. But not without summiting!

Quickly water is put on the boil for tea. Kit is packed and divided into things we don’t need for the top – carefully hidden amongst the rock fields.

A long barren climb gets us to the top at 12:00pm, 3479 metres.

The top is overwhelming, we feel woozy, with a mild sense of anticlimax. The trek up and the over night camp were, in many ways, more of an experience than reaching the summit. Perhaps we prefer being in the mountains, to being on top of them.

It’s a long way down. Just a day earlier we were looking up at these huge mountains. Suddenly we’re looking down on them as if they’re insignificant!

We make a good pace in our descent – 1 hour back to our kit at Las Siete Lagunas. A tricky climb down the water fall (with slightly lighter packs), then a good pace on the open trails (this would be an awesome descent on the mountain bike!). Our spirits start off high and we’re almost skipping down the mountain. Energy fades as we near the end. Legs hurt and we drag ourselves through the streets of Trevélez (again the hardest part of the day).

Straight into the first hostel we find. After a few days camping, even the most basic hostel seems like luxury. Bliss!

The next day’s recovery walk!

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The August bank holiday weekend was our first trip out with the bike and the rest of the kit (including a picnic of course). The results from the day were very promising, with some great angles of the trails.

It’s a bit of an experiment at the moment, but we wanted to see what sort of footage we could get. Then maybe make plans for a complete video – hopefully getting Harry involved again!

Matt has another QuadCopter in the pipeline which will be more stable and produce even better quality shots. So watch this space! Video to follow shortly, in the meantime, here are some photos:

The post A GoPro Experiment appeared first on Joyriders.

They set off on their adventure shortly after getting married in September 2012. Their route so far has taken them through many parts of Europe, the Middle East, and they are now about to enter Asia and cross the Himalayas. They’ve seen some amazing places, met some wonderful people and thankfully, they’ve shared it with us back home through their website (www.mcneilsonwheels.com).

If you’re planning a similar trip or are just fascinated by what can be achieved on a bicycle, then I recommend you take a look.

To wet your appetite here are a few photos and videos!

Setting of into Europe at the beginning of winter – brrr

Alice making friends

I guess this would happen a lot when cycling 30,000kms!

Off the beaten track!

Amazing people everywhere you go!

It’s amazing what you can get in a few panniers… Alice not included!

Including a sneakers bar! Small luxuries…

The post Cycling to New Zealand appeared first on Joyriders.

If you have any ideas on content, then just let us know!!

p.s. I’ve added some old Facebook blog posts here too. Going back to 2010! More to come.

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