I did go, but sorry 606 I didn't have time for any of that and alas, my tyres were too skinny for diving off into epic forest. I went NurseHolloday's route. Traffic wasn't too bad for Sat morning, and the sun was blazing. Two comments:
1) East London is a toilet. I knew this before, but seeing from the saddle, in marvelous technicolour, crammed into a decaying sprawl from Liverpool St to Ilford, the mind-boggling array of slapdash development, opportunist commerce and, well - people jabbing at piles of melons with sticks - really reminded me, lest I had forgotten. Don't protest, hipsters; it's what makes it such a cool place to live I'm sure.
2) Ciclos Uno is amazing!!!!! What a bike shop! Dedicated to cycle racing, not a bloody stumpjumper, charge plug, pashley, brompton or bmx in sight. A Colnago Master X-Lite with full record titanium burns your eyeballs upon entry. A curly Hetchins track bike in period attire makes your knees weak instantly. Frame sex is lined up along one wall, everything from the latest titanium and carbon offerings to classic steel from the italian greats. On the opposite wall ane ceiling are wheels. More wheels than you've ever seen, and most of them nicer than you can own/imagine. Early discs? Fine. Track carbon rim - how many spokes will you be needing today? Want campag hyperon? Lightweight? Take two pairs, sir. Araya Super Aero laced to a SA three speed fixed? Can fuckin do. Its right there next to your silly gawping face. Ah sir, the old boy says after regaling me with tales about my bike (mid 90s titanium, owned by a former racer), I can see you like the unusual stuff. Look at my collection cabinet. I did. Fuck me. My eyes would have bulged less if I'd have seen unicorns doing the macarena. First generation dura ace grouppo, boxed. Rare record arranged on every shelf. Everyting pristine. Hi/lo campag track hubs, and a pair of super large flange Hardens, never laced he tells me as I'm fondling them. An H R Morris Special path frame, never built up, with the initials of the master builder formed out of the lugs themselves. I have never seen anything like it. One of 13 made, he says.
With those memories in my mind and a coffee and iced bun in my tum, the return leg in the scorching heat was a pleasure. Made it back to Brixton in an hour and ten minutes. My advice is - call in at Ciclos Uno. Even if you have to go through East London, it's worth it.
I did go, but sorry 606 I didn't have time for any of that and alas, my tyres were too skinny for diving off into epic forest. I went NurseHolloday's route. Traffic wasn't too bad for Sat morning, and the sun was blazing. Two comments:
1) East London is a toilet. I knew this before, but seeing from the saddle, in marvelous technicolour, crammed into a decaying sprawl from Liverpool St to Ilford, the mind-boggling array of slapdash development, opportunist commerce and, well - people jabbing at piles of melons with sticks - really reminded me, lest I had forgotten. Don't protest, hipsters; it's what makes it such a cool place to live I'm sure.
2) Ciclos Uno is amazing!!!!! What a bike shop! Dedicated to cycle racing, not a bloody stumpjumper, charge plug, pashley, brompton or bmx in sight. A Colnago Master X-Lite with full record titanium burns your eyeballs upon entry. A curly Hetchins track bike in period attire makes your knees weak instantly. Frame sex is lined up along one wall, everything from the latest titanium and carbon offerings to classic steel from the italian greats. On the opposite wall ane ceiling are wheels. More wheels than you've ever seen, and most of them nicer than you can own/imagine. Early discs? Fine. Track carbon rim - how many spokes will you be needing today? Want campag hyperon? Lightweight? Take two pairs, sir. Araya Super Aero laced to a SA three speed fixed? Can fuckin do. Its right there next to your silly gawping face. Ah sir, the old boy says after regaling me with tales about my bike (mid 90s titanium, owned by a former racer), I can see you like the unusual stuff. Look at my collection cabinet. I did. Fuck me. My eyes would have bulged less if I'd have seen unicorns doing the macarena. First generation dura ace grouppo, boxed. Rare record arranged on every shelf. Everyting pristine. Hi/lo campag track hubs, and a pair of super large flange Hardens, never laced he tells me as I'm fondling them. An H R Morris Special path frame, never built up, with the initials of the master builder formed out of the lugs themselves. I have never seen anything like it. One of 13 made, he says.
With those memories in my mind and a coffee and iced bun in my tum, the return leg in the scorching heat was a pleasure. Made it back to Brixton in an hour and ten minutes. My advice is - call in at Ciclos Uno. Even if you have to go through East London, it's worth it.