On the mountain bike it’s a steady slog to the top thinking about singletrack.

Today I rode a bit, not ridden for a while and was keen to get out so didn’t pay much attention to the forecast before grabbing my summer bike, thought to grab a wind jacket as I left, automatic reflex, jacket hanging by the door. Not a proper coat but a lightweight windproof. Big mistake. Should have noticed the clouds but it was early, very early. Could have turned around at the bottom of the street to get something more substantial to wear but no, enthusiasm overriding pragmatism.

2 miles. That’s the distance to the bottom of the first noticeable climb from my house, it marks the point where a ride properly starts. On a good day on the best road bike it’s big ring to the top, never going to bother the top of the Strava leaderboard but ahead of my mates. On the mountain bike it’s a steady slog to the top thinking about singletrack. Today it was where the first bit of rain hit my glasses. Nothing to turn around for. Inner ring, legs heavy from other hobbies that demand more time. Reach the top and soon turn off the main road and drop towards quieter lanes. No sound other than birds and rain now bouncing off my helmet, wind jacket still holding out against what is approaching a deluge.

Start to climb, tarmac forming the bed of a stream. I have a bow wave forming around my tyres. Wishing for my winter bike with full mudguards, function over form. Instead carbon and minimal clearance for rubber, never mind practical additions.

Jacket surrendering to the conditions, slowly the cold damp feeling of water as it penetrates the seams, wicking in reverse as the elements try to cool me against my will. Reach the top and the rain takes things up a level, with the addition of wind and mist. Visibility now so reduced that my rear light is bounced back off the airborne reflective environment that I now ride in. Wish I had a bigger front light on. But no one else is daft enough to be out in this.

Just me.

Turn for home, not the distance I had in mind but now my feet are damp, water bypassing the old overshoes that I’d absent-mindedly pulled over my shoes. Hadn’t thought about them until that cold feeling, surprised at how well they’d done.

20 miles, no feeling in my fingers, light full finger gloves worn only because of the early start, now soaked through. Nearly home, I can feel the warmth from the shower already.

25 miles, home. Shivering and shaking. Put the bike away first, silent vow to give her a check over and some lube later knowing I will forget. Stand in the kitchen, the centerpiece of an indoor water feature. Will need to get that sorted before anyone else gets up. Hit the shower and it hurts, so turn down the temperature, colder water to warm up. Thawing. Hands red from the cold, feet the same.

Outside the sun is now shining. Steam rising from the deck. Summertime. Inside I’m smiling. Alive. A cyclist again.

The post Summer bike appeared first on Joyriders.

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.

The post Tock Tick appeared first on Joyriders.

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.

Here’s to an awesome 2015 too!

The post Favourite photos of 2014 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!

The post The highest village to the highest mountain appeared first on Joyriders.

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.

I entered into the 12 hours solo category (12 hours of lonely cycling around a track). I went on the understanding that I would stop once I did a lap that was unenjoyable – because there isn’t really any point in riding your bike if you’re not enjoying it.

After a couple of fast laps (I’m like a dog chasing a bone – even though I knew I had to take it easy), I was quickly relieved that I wasn’t doing the full 24 hours (like my friend Darren). Lap 3 I managed to control my competitive urge and slow the pace down, knowing that I wouldn’t finish if I didn’t.

I was adamant that I would stop on each lap – the Joyriders camp was right on the edge of the course, where my pit crew waited patiently – having at least a 10 minute snack and drink stop. After some laps, these rest stops got longer and longer, being up to an hour towards the end.

After lap 7 (when it was starting to go dark) I had that unenjoyable lap… I was aching all over which was resulting in me making a few mistakes. I was also getting a little fed up of fast climbers nipping past me at the top of the descents to then only hold me up all the way down… Maybe I should have been doing a gravity enduro rather than a XC race!

So that was my finishing number, 7 laps which left me in 28th place. But it made it an enjoyable event, with great company, great food (courtesy of Evelyn, Matt, Lucy and the wood burner/cooker).

Back next year? I’m sure I will, but definitely as a team…

I’m afraid that with all the riding, I didn’t get any good photos of the event!

The post Bontrager 24/12 – 2013 appeared first on Joyriders.

Mark and a couple of mates (Tom & Jo) packed their bikes and the scooter and set off to “Las Alpujarras” in the Sierra Nevada mountains last season (yes I know, I’ve taken my time in writing this, but I only type with one finger). Here’s our report on the riding in the area. There is huge potential for trips to this area – watch this space!!

Loose rocks! Great fun!!

With the van heavily packed with three mountain bikes, overnight kit and the scooter (which took up most of our space), we set off from our base in Cordoba to the Sierra Nevada mountains, more specifically the Alpujarra region.

The Joyriders van fully packed – scooter included!

We stayed in a really cute, but basic, wooden cabin which served our purposes well – because let’s face it, most of our time was going to be spent out on the bike. We dumped all our kit including the scooter, which was going to be essential for collecting the van at the end of the day. We then drove up the mountain as far as the road would allow. We had about an hours worth of climbing from this point, but plenty more descending would be our reward!

Cabin in the woods

Once we had located the start of the first descent, we padded up, got some fuel on board and then set off down the trail. This was a fast swooping trail with plenty of loose rocks and lots of dust! It was awesome – with a few surprises thrown in for good measure! Check out the video at the end of this post to get a better idea of the trails…

Tom and Jo take on the trails in Sierra Nevada

We eventually descended into the first village of the day, where we were able to stock up on water from one of the local springs. We then had a short, but very hot climb up to our next bit of single track, which finally dropped us all the way into the bottom of the valley. This, unfortunately means we had a bit of a climb back up to the hut, where the scooter was waiting! Thankfully I didn’t have to ride all the way up and collect the van! That wouldn’t have been a nice finish to the day.

We’re all fairly tired by the time we get back. It’s been a hot day, but as the sun is setting the air temperature starts to cool rapidly. Once the van is back, we crack open some beers, prepare food and start to talk our way through all the trails we rode that day, excited at the prospect of more the following day!

Mark tackles a Joyriders home made burger!!

It ends up being a late night chatting, drinking, eating and watching the stars – thankfully I had my down jacket with me, as it got fairly cold so high up in the mountains.

Mesmerising sunrise!

The following morning we were rewarded with an amazing sunrise! Bathing the mountains in a crisp, fresh light – what better way to start a days riding.

Todays ride consisted of a hike a bike climb out of Travelez (the highest village in mainland Spain) – and when I say hike a bike, I didn’t take into account Tom’s determination to try riding as much of the route as possible! That lad is like a mountain goat!!

Once we finally hit the top we took some time out to make lunch and get a few photos of the amazing views. We were then rewarded with an amazing, flowing descent – full of whoops and cheers!

Spanish cheese for lunch?

A short road climb out of the next village quickly rewarded us with a slightly more technical and enclosed descent, which finished with some fairly tight, but doable switchbacks.

We only really took photo when were resting!

A slightly longer climb took us to the final descent of the day – but this wasn’t a descent to take lightly! With super tight switchbacks and perilous drops, there wasn’t much room for error here! We rode the ones we felt comfortable on, but with tiredness setting in (as well as getting a sudden appreciation for staying alive) we didn’t quite take them all on…

Having spat us out at the bottom of a steep valley, the end of the days riding was therefore finishing with a rather energy sapping hike-a-bike out again. Back to the van for a wipe down shower and change before heading back home to the Subbetica – where we would be taking on Grande Cojones the following day (which was very technical and rocky in comparison to the last couple of days – but with less of the death defying drops!).

Tom tackles the trails of Sierra Nevada

All in all, Sierra Nevada was an awesome place to go for a change of scenery. It’s not for the light hearted or those with a genuine fear of heights. But there are also some super flowing, relatively smooth trails to enjoy by most intermediate+ riders. Obviously there are many more technical options for the more advanced riders.

Now watch the video:

The post Mountain Biking in Las Alpujarras (Sierra Nevada), Spain appeared first on Joyriders.

What to store it in?

There are three main options: a cardboard bike box, a bike bag (soft case) or a hard bike case. If you have a high end road bike a hard bike case is a worthwhile investment.

A cardboard bike box is usually available for free or in exchange for a beer from your local bike shop – bikes are delivered in them, so you’re helping with waste disposal. They are quite good (sometimes less disassembly is required), but can be slightly longer, so not as easily transported.

Lastly soft bike cases cost between £60 and £100, but if you travel frequently they are good to have. It is less likely that you will be able to fit the bike in with the rear wheel on – so slightly more preparation is required. We recommend soft bike cases for mountain bikes, as they fit into our vans quite easily.

Preparation

Line your bike bag with cardboard (a bike box works well for this). Put your bike into the lowest gear at the front and the highest at the back (this is so the cables aren’t under tension – note: you shouldn’t ride it in this gear).

Pedals

It is easiest to take the pedals off with the bike upright. Remember the left pedal is reverse-threaded, using a symmetrical removal process is easiest. Put the crank facing forward, and the allen key (or spanner) facing rearward. Putting your weight on the end of the tool – pushing towards the ground should remove the pedal.

Wheels

It is easiest to remove the wheels with the bike upside down – put cardboard down to protect the contact points from damage.

Airlines suggest total deflation of tyres, but we would recommend leaving a little bit of air in to protect the rims from damage. About 10psi should be sufficient.

Take out quick release levers. If your bike has bolt-through axle(s), thread these back into the frame/forks to protect them. If you don’t have bolt-through axles use some dropout spacers to sit in the frame/forks. For hydraulic disc brakes use a pad spreader (or some cardboard) to keep the pads from sandwiching together.

Rear mech, chain and cranks

Take off the rear derailleur. If you need to cut the end off the derailleur cable, remember to bring a spare cable, and some cable ends. However, it should be easy to move the derailleur without cutting the cable. If you have a chain that is easily broken and fixed together (e.g.. SRAM), you can do that and pack the chain separately.

Secure the drive-side crank to the chain-stay. Place padding around the bottom bracket – then take the chain off and put it around the bottom bracket. Pad all around the outer chainring, especially where it will be in contact with the bottom of the box.

Make a bubble wrap package of the (unbroken) chain and the rear derailleur, keeping the chain tight around the bottom bracket so that it doesn’t move around. All of this can sit protected between the chain-stays behind the bottom bracket.

Bars, Seatpost and Saddle

This bike doesn’t quite fit in without removing bars. To remove bars take off the top-cap, then loosen the bolts where the stem attaches to the steerer. You should be able to twist off the stem and bars together as a unit, then put the top-cap back on to protect the fork steerer. (If you have a removable faceplate on your stem, you can also take the bars off from there, leaving the stem in place).

It is best to leave the seat post in place, but dropped out of the way (if possible), but take care not to scratch the post. If you are going to take it off, re-tighten the seatpost collar back up afterwards, and put lots of padding so it doesn’t get damaged. For this bike, the seat post fits in perfectly without being dropped – this is good for protecting the vulnerable frame from knocks.

Finishing touches

This is how your bike will fit in – this is shown without padding for clarity.

Remember to pack as much of your kit into your bike bag as possible – within the maximum weight allowance. Armour is useful for protecting your frame. Some clothes can also be kept in here (but careful not to get grease on them – also make sure the airline will allow “extra” kit in the bike bag).

Other useful packing materials are pipe lagging (for frame tubes), bubble wrap, cardboard etc.

We don’t recommend using a lock to secure your bike bag – if airport security need access to your bag, they will cut through the bag. A simple cable tie provides some peace of mind and security, but won’t prevent officials from being able to open it.

Tips for using a box instead of a bag: bike boxes are usually the minimum width possible for logistical reasons, so getting a bike back into them can be quite tricky. You should be able to fit it in without taking off the rear wheel. The front wheel will have to be hooked over the left crank (the left crank going between the spokes, below the hub with the quick release taken out of hub). Handlebars will often need to be taken off. Then you have to lower this into the box as a unit, keeping the front wheel tight against the frame.

The same principle can be applied to a road bike, but you might want to add more packing materials to pad the bag out and protect the frame more. Alternatively a hard road bike case is going keep your pride and joy even safer!

The post Packing a mountain bike for air travel – How to appeared first on Joyriders.