I suppose I'll stick with 65". Can't be bothered to swap chainrings again.
Don't know why I'm posting that 'out loud'. No-one cares. I mean no-one except Ved gave a fucking shit that I took a massive 5 minutes out of my life to toss off (yes, you heard me, 'toss off') a teaspoon's worth of descending tips.
You really start to wonder if there's any point to any of this. There's a glimmer of hope, during one's angst-ridden youth, that feelings like these will subside as you crest the steep hill of adolescence and young adulthood and are spat out onto the plateau of indeterminate age; but the sense of abandonment and alienation simply ripens, swollen like a lager sodden snail on the side of a drained can of cheap lager in an insipidly coloured carrier bag nestled in a hedgerow in the chokehold of the commuter belt.
I suppose I'll stick with 65". Can't be bothered to swap chainrings again.
Don't know why I'm posting that 'out loud'. No-one cares. I mean no-one except Ved gave a fucking shit that I took a massive 5 minutes out of my life to toss off (yes, you heard me, 'toss off') a teaspoon's worth of descending tips.
You really start to wonder if there's any point to any of this. There's a glimmer of hope, during one's angst-ridden youth, that feelings like these will subside as you crest the steep hill of adolescence and young adulthood and are spat out onto the plateau of indeterminate age; but the sense of abandonment and alienation simply ripens, swollen like a lager sodden snail on the side of a drained can of cheap lager in an insipidly coloured carrier bag nestled in a hedgerow in the chokehold of the commuter belt.