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After Hayley and (bp.co award winner) R left, I briefly contemplated writing a trip report, but it felt like whipping out my phone to take a picture when my mates are right next to me with a Leica and a Hasselblad. But now I kind of regret not writing one when the memories were clearer, on the other hand I’m not sure a play by play would offer much consolation anyway. Not wanting to cheat my memory I won’t dig up her posts describing the week, but I’ll paste a link here when I’m done writing.
https://www.lfgss.com/comments/17345033/ (and onwards via the "read the full conversation" link)
Although I’m not sure what she wrote exactly, they added an interesting dimension to the dynamic. I think she wrote them overnight, I read them in the morning trying to will myself out of bed. It was an unseasonably cold late April, so getting up wasn’t easy for someone who thrives in temperatures above 25C. So I read her posts instead, delaying the scramble for a jumper and my uggs by a couple more minutes. I don’t think we discussed them explicitly, it probably would have been weird to talk about her writing about what we talked about the day before. But they hung over the trip as a sort of narrator’s voice, providing context and giving insight to inner workings.
We had billed the trip as a training camp, choosing to stay at a base camp (my place / a hostel close by) and attack our daily targets from there. Being the local, I was in charge of preparation. This meant making a list of cafes to visit and places to have lunch at, the day’s route then sorted itself out. I’d never call myself a foodie, but I’ve been accused of being one. And looking back most of my memories revolve around meals and drinks. (That’s definitely not because we spent our days going from breakfast to coffee to lunch to another coffee to dinner.)
The cafes we visited:
Best coffee, we went here twice and the “indeterminate sexual preference barista” made better coffee than the owner. Tragically the owner has called quits and the new owner seems to think an Italian flag is a mark of good beans.
Best cakes / my local. This didn’t elicit much comments, but it’s a luxury to have a perfectly solid cafe nearby. I think it might have been the only place H and R ordered an espresso. I’ve been an espresso drinker my whole life, and as much as I want to enjoy filter coffee it just all tastes the same to me. H and R would wax lyrical about a tea-like coffee, or the booziness-fruitiness axis all filter coffee can be placed on, but it hasn’t clicked for me. Anyway, I’m sure this place offers a filter coffee, but it’s definitely not where his heart is and I think H&R chose accordingly.
Silliest coffee, this is where I go when I want an espresso tonic. They don’t necessarily do it best, but you get it in a tumbler on ice and it’s like drinking a cocktail. H&R were unimpressed, stoically asked for a batch brew and continued talking about boozy coffee
Worst vibes, this place is serious about their coffee and they do good cakes. But we were asked not to park our bikes on a deserted terrace at what was probable -2 realfeel temp. A couple weeks after they visited H asked after the name of this place for a friend who’d be visiting Leipzig, as they had exotic beans and brewed them well, but I’ve never gone back since.
For lunch we did vegan Mexican (not amazing but it’s hard to get Mexican food in former communist Germany), falafel (better than in London they said), focaccia (last week H’s sister texted what H regaled about the place: “people in the UK are too scared to cook it properly and the middle is always too gooey (I firmly agreed with her) but she said that the best focaccia she ever had was this pizza focaccia thing she had while in Germany”), and a Burger King (apparently German BK is much better when it comes to plant based) where H&R had both ordered for me and I overcame lots of social anxiety to ask a staff member to ask for the surplus burger to be cut in two.
Written down it feels trivial. But after they’d left, these memories were imprinted all over town and will stay with me for as long as I live here. When I rode past the bakery last week, just after hearing the news, I couldn’t face sitting there. But as the rawness erodes, I’ll go back and every time I’m there I’ll be transported to their quips and observations.
I’ve often felt like a satellite to social groups, a friend of the people in a group of friends but not necessarily part of the group? But what H created with the jackets was magical, I won’t say instantly but I soon felt part of the group in a way I haven’t often felt before. It was a strange time for me, we had moved to a different country in the week the lockdowns started and basically all of my social interactions halted. Initially everyone interacted online, and the Zoom birthday parties etc made me unaware of the social dust bowl I had landed in. But as lockdowns eased and things moved offline again, I noticed I didn’t have much. Having this online circle was maybe the only thing keeping the darkest thoughts away.
Looking back on our entire friendship, there are so many ways in which she has supported me. She told me off for saying I shouldn’t clog up the healthcare system and leave room for the people who really need it (a woke version of the stiff upper lip is what she said), and encouraged me to seek therapy. This has been a real turning point and I’m eternally grateful for her part in getting me over the line. In the early days of Wit Slingers I often wondered if I shouldn’t just bin it all and get an uninspiring but safe job, H told me I would have all of my life to make boring choices and I should make the most the circumstances that allowed me to do something silly. And as challenging as self-employment can be, I appreciate those words and the experience of learning to be proud of my work has been invaluable.
Over the last week, I have wondered if I was there for her enough, did I have even a sliver of the positive influence on her life she had on mine? It’s hard to imagine, but I like to think that her interactions with me at least sparked some joy. I will miss being told my fit is “lesbian coded” and that I look like a futch (femme butch, I had to google it) climber gf. I will miss her theorising on low-t men, lesbian men, and I think the final term was queer heterosexual. Talking about the expectations around gender, what it means to not fit in, and how to relate to those feelings. I will miss her sense of humour, her razor sharp observations, her increasingly hard to follow bike builds I was proud to be baggageur for. But I will cherish the memories, when I get a focaccia, when I spell absalutely wrong, when I look at the (gay) gear indicator on my Alivio shifter. I had almost written I will have to stockpile those shifters, but gear indicator or no gear indicator, I will not forget her.
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Seems a safer option to me.
I strongly doubt that, you'd get a really questionable cantilever situation. Imagine braking hard. The rack wants to keep moving forward, so it pulls straight out of the fender flute which is then liable to buckle / bend / break at the fork crown edge. That sends the rack over the front wheel into the ground, locking up your front wheel and before you know it you're in facial reconstruction surgery.
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Finally got the photos from June's trip developed. I'll try to write a short trip report around those and then let the Corsica stuff marinate a bit.
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Snagged a deal on the shifters, so now the group for next year’s bike is complete. And the wheel build dealings were completed at bespoked and they should arrive before the end of the year. Pro 5 in the back, SON in the front, 28 silver spokes, 26mm internal Fratelli rims (400g!) to get a nice and aero tyre profile.
There’s still a decent amount of stuff that needs buying. Finishing kit the biggest question at this point, carbon seat post is alluring for weight and comfort. Syntace P6 the most interesting, but it’s pricey and the red decal is challenging.
The temptation of a nice steel stem is there, but I think I prefer the euro honesty of an alu Ritchey WCS. Although it might be a bit chunky against a straight 1 1/8” head tube.
I’d really like one of those mega light and sweepy SQlabs carbon drop bars, but they might too be a bit chunky looking and I wouldn’t get one if I’d have to pay for it.
I’d be happy if it stays under 11kg, this suggests I could easily go under 10 without the lights and racks and the no-dynamo front wheel from the ATB. Not sure if I’ll ever care enough about the 800g to bother though.
The frame weight is a very rough guess engineered to have the fuzz factor for cables and tubeless sealant and other misc stuff.
I picked a 100x15mm SON hub so I can also run it in the ATB, that might be a nice feature this winter.
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We did stages 1-3 in the north half, that was incredible but also a bit tricky at times. We definitely did scrambles where in case of a fall a helicopter trip was the best case scenario. So the decision was made to not go over the highest peak in stage 4. We miraculously managed to hitchhike to a train station after minutes after arriving at Haut Asco, and then went to Vizzavona and continued on the south part. There we did stages 10 and 11 out and back. Not an ideal itinerary and I definitely want to go back for the full thing with more like-minded people, but it was a great introduction nonetheless.
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Couple more pics, still reeling. One of the best trips I’ve ever done.
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Over the moon with this here bag. More words to follow, but it’s performed better than I could have dreamed. GR20 is a strong rec if you don’t have vertigo.
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Don’t get me wrong, there’s some ideological component to me trying to keep my prices reasonable and I’m happy to make sure people get the bag they want.
It’s just that the harsh reality of self employment in the bike industry (shit pay and shit hours) can wear one down in the long term. Happy customers and industry recognition are nice, but sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to ride home at 1900 and not think of it as an early night.
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