Bike Stunts 101

Last year I was a very meek cyclist. Despite my caution, I still fell with depressing regularity. The only thing that has changed in a year of cycling is the amount of caution. I still fall with depressing regularity, but in flashier and riskier ways.

You see, I'd decided to learn those fancy tricks all those snotty 13 year-old kids learned on their BMXes on my huge mountain bike. To do this, I enlisted a book about mountain biking, Tom Cremona, and lots and lots of offroad.

I started out in a haze of fear, tremblingly clutching at the back brake as soon as I hit a bump, but soon enough, my fear dissolved in a blinding thrill of foolhardy boldness.

The problem with doing bike stunts is this:

You can't do half a bike stunt, and you can't make mistakes.

Get one right, and you feel like a god. Hop over a pavement smoothly, and you check out if anyone in the street saw your smooth move. Wheelie four strokes, and you know all the ladies in the block are checking you out from under the blinds...

Get one wrong, and you look like an utter dick.

Take today, for instance. I was riding down into the underground car park at the gym. Of course I had to hop over the gutter on the downhill ramp. Little did I know that a car right in front of me was reversing...

I looked up just in time to see impending doom. Cue the noisiest, flashiest brake I've ever pulled, complete with throwing the bike sideways and leaving a steaming trail of rubber. I stopped, just in time.

A woman looked out of the car: "It is a bit fast to come into the car park..."

I pedalled past nonchalantly: "It's fine, no worries", smiling in a sort of inoffensive way.

Yeah, like I brake to within an inch of my life every day.

So what's the point of this post? Well, it's pretty much what I've been doing this past year...furtively going to parks, making sure nobody's there before trying out my latest attempt at a wheelie, or going down L-shaped stairs, or trying to hop the bike sideways.

...so just try not to catch me at it, okay? and no, those scrapes on my arm are weeks old, promise...

At it again

For those of you who may recall my initial foray into the sad world of blogging, I've decided to spend another year ratcheting my weary old crank around the roads of Europe. Far from the fresh faced young cyclist I was last year, I'm now a cranky old veteran, my bike bearing the scars of innumerable falls, my scarred forehead bashed about by a concussion and a couple of stitches.

Il-Gerry, riding around the streets of Malta with his 'borma' helmet.

Ah well, it's Rumania, Ukraine, Poland and Germany this year. Far from the cold nordic climbs we had last time around...who knows what fascinating epistles this adventure will bring?

Stay tuned, you never know what might crop up...