Urban Gorilla Art and Innerspace Photography

It seems that since I tidied the garage and hung up my mountain bikes I’ve only been riding my Duchess, with a brief interlude with my path racer. The Duchess is really the perfect vehicle for exploring the quake ravaged heart of Christchurch as little by little we can get further into the city. This shrinking of the cordon has inspired me to create an installation of pieces which reflect my frustration at the loss of the city to demolition companies and the army, and also make me feel a little bit more like I am taking my city back. 

I spent a lovely 2 hours riding around the city setting up and photographing my tiny tableaus and have created a website – CBD Exiles – to celebrate their existence. It’s been a couple of weeks now and many of them are still in situ. I’m interested to see how long they last as more and more people return to the city.

I’ve also been Tweeding again. An epic 20km tweed ride along the Heathcote River, with plenty of pubbery and a little crazy BMX tracking. Unfortunately no racing took place as the evil Chumly Pogward injured his delicate back. Ahhh well, it’s probably for the best.

And in the biggest news of the last couple of weeks I headed in for arthroscopic knee surgery last Thursday, to tidy up some long existing meniscal tears and floaty bits of cartilage. The operation went well, but resulted in a very disappointing prognosis for my knee. I went back to the surgeon yesterday for my follow up appointment and was informed that my knee is “Munted”. This is NOT a work you want to have associated with anything you care about, your city, bike, house, sewer system, but especially not with a part of your body.

Then the lovely Mr Penny told me that it may not be a problem for a long time due to the fact I’m not fat (his words – he is truly a lovely man) and because I ride my bikes lots. Unfortunately he then went on to explain the baffling photo’s I’d received after my surgery (the squeamish should look away now). While they look like pictures of faraway planets (or to the more filthy minded something else) they are interior views of my knee showing the damage removed and the damage that means my knee is basically a ticking time bomb of falling apartness.

Bad streaming trendils

Bad lump of meniscus that was causing my knee to lock

Very old cartilage tear causing some locking

Random floating bits

What it boils down to is the cartilage inside my knee is so damaged that in places it is non-existent and that’s bad. To be honest, I’m kinda meh about the whole prognosis, I’ve had trouble with my knee since I was 14 now, it’s just a normal part of my life so I’m not too concerned. I’ll just ride my bikes lots and lots, stay strong and fit, and hopefully get 15 years out of it before I need a whole new knee. 

Scoring in the cartilage

The top right is just bare bone now - rather bad news

Nasty ulcer in the cartilage

Luckily with the help of the lovely Bastian I’ve healed up quickly from my surgery and am riding to work already.

I just need to get rid of this man-flu I currently have and I’ll be hitting the road and the trail again to build up for an epic ride on the Longest Day. In the meantime I’m going to start work on my lovely Empire for the Great Poms and Cassels Tweed Run in July. You should come along to it, it is going to be brilliant!

The Path Racer rides; and more grease under the finger nails.

Last week I put the finishing touches on the path racer. You know, mere aesthetic details like working brakes, repainted lugs and a head tube badge. A big thanks to Dave and Aaron at Velo Ideale for fettling my brakes in submission so that they actually work now.

She looks right at home in the forest

Today was a momentous day. After a few frankly vigorous rides to work, she’s got a big gear on her my lovely lady, I took her out to where she belongs, the dirt paths of McLeans Island for a blat. To be honest I was slightly concerned that my knees would explode riding up the stop banks but all went well and it was actually my wrists which gave me the most gip. I will be tweaking my cockpit for a better level of bar and perhaps discussing with Bob further shimming options.

Anyway, being a lovely day I took a few shots to showcase Jimmima’s beauty in the setting sun. I couldn’t quite believe how well she handled and she railed the berms out there like none of my other bikes. I think she shall become my official McLean’s bike.

In other news my new found obsession with fettling continues and I have started work on my hubby’s bike from his school days. It is a large framed L'Espirit ten speed, which had unfortunately been covered in hideous Yak stickers.

There is a front wheel, it's just in the shed.

Despite these glaring horrors I was able to see that under the years of grime and dust there is a rather lovely old bike waiting to come out.

Progress has been good so far. Working with just one bike rather than bits from one and a frame from another, is much easier. The bike has been fully stripped of all parts and the laborious cleaning and polishing process has begun. I find it so satisfying to take a dirty rusty piece of bicycle and transform it into a sparkling piece of bling.

Lovely detailed little tab off the gear change levers

Old, crusty Suntour rear derailleur

Shiny bling one

 I suspect I’ll have this boy ready to ride by the end of the week. Then I’ll just have to persuade my lovely man to join me on a Tweed Ride (the next one being Sunday the 13th of May which I highly recommend all Quake dwellers with steel framed bikes and a penchant for dressing up all fancy like, join us for – see the Stalkbook group).

Finally both Bastian and I have been enjoying the glorious autumnal weather. I’ve been exploring the fringes of the red zone and have discovered that the central city is being reclaimed by nature and it is lovely.

I’m not sure where Bastian has been exploring, but wherever it is there are a lot of grasshoppers there as he’s been bringing us at least one or two grasshoppers every night for the past few nights. Mostly they survive and are released but I suspect when we move the furniture around next there will be a number of little green surprises waiting for us. Bless him.

PS - I have purposely included an error in this blog somewhere, the first person to guess right will receive a much coveted "I want to ride my bike" sticker made by the lovely Mel at Black Swan Designs. If they want it.

Under the stern face of Aoraki

My husband and I were very spoilt to be shouted a weekend away at the Hermitage at Mt Cook this weekend. And boy was it a great weekend to be up there. We awoke on Saturday morning to snowflakes floating against the window. It looked gorgeous. Luckily after a stupidly large buffet breakfast and some lazing around our nice room the weather cleared completely and it turned into a glorious sunny day.

Not a bad view from the room

Hubby and I were going a separate ways as my dodgy knee and hip isn’t up to the sort of strenuous walk that he, and the rest of our group were planning on doing. For those who know Mt Cook they headed up to Sealy Tarns. I cunningly took my bike with me and after rugging up against the biting southerly breeze I headed off to the Tasman Valley.

The ride into the valley is ok, on a gravel road that wide enough to avoid the various tourist buses, camper vans and cars. I had the wind behind me and was enjoying the stunning scenery so it was a leisurely ride. Not long into it I had to stop and remove my coat and leg warmers as I was broiling alive.

A glorious day in the high country

Once I got to the car park where the walks start I veered off to the left and followed the unmaintained 4WD track the heads up the valley. This was a fun and challenging ride with lots of loose rocks between fist and head sized to negotiate on the ups and downs. I didn’t notice it on the way in, but you’re constantly climbing as you get deeper into the valley. It was so silent in the valley. I didn’t see anyone else the whole time I was in there and the only sounds were the occasional bee and the battle cries of the Skylarks. It was bliss.

As I got further up the valley the track merged with the river bed and I was in an avalanche zone, evidenced by the streak of thick snow and pointy boulders I had to push my bike over. It was a bit freaky looking up at the steep slopes on my left and wondering if something was going to come sliding down. Finally I couldn’t really follow the 4WD track anymore, it was just loose rocks and boulders everywhere with no clear path. I decided it was time to take a look at the glacier after coming all this way. I hoped I was close to the toe.

Icebergs a plenty

After a quick scramble up the little ridge that separated the valley from the glacier I was sitting on a huge boulder looking down on the glacier and listening to amazing sounds of it breaking up. It was pretty dodgy on the ridge, having been undercut by the glacier. I took some photos and as much as I wanted to stay and see ice break off I didn’t feel safe. The last thing I wanted when I was alone was to slide 100ms down into icy melt water. After a careful descent down the ridge I pushed on up the valley a little longer before giving up. I didn’t want to sprain an ankle or something equally silly while I was alone.

Slightly dodgy ridge

Heading back down the valley was an outstanding ride. Plenty of bunny hopping off rocks, loose turns and general rocky fun. It has taken me an hour and a bit to get up the valley from the car park, but it only took 10 minutes to get back and I was grinning like a mad woman. Unfortunately the ride back out to the Hermitage was horrible, with a cutting head wind and lots of dusty traffic. My legs were pretty grumpy about the whole thing too.

The ride back down the valley was fun

Mt Sefton at night

Then next day hubby and just did a little walk up to Kea Point to watch a few little avalanches and take photos of the freaky face I’d seen in Mt Cook when the snow cleared on Saturday morning. It was a little disconcerting having this stern visage watching over us the whole weekend. It was a scorcher on Sunday and I managed to get sunburnt before we piled in the car and headed home to more horrible earthquakes. I would definitely recommend a little ride up the Tasman Valley if you’re in Mt Cook. It’s not super technical, but the scenery is awe inspiring and the rocks make it challenging enough that you have to pay attention the whole time.

Can you see the face just below the front peak?

I'm ready for my close-up Ms Hucker

As promised yesterday, here is a selection of the photo's from Saturday. There were heaps of photos of me grinning insanely while everyone else looked Very Serious, but I haven't included those here, the chipmunk cheeks are just too embarrassing.

First attempt at the wall ride. Scary, but fun

Scatter shows me how its done

Rita show me how its not done!

Huck it au!

Natural born poser!

Look, my wheels are off the ground.

The charge of the Hucker army

I love berms

Martha Hucker reprasentz

Who bought the karate kid?

As you can see we had a great day, thanks Anne and Martha!

Snake charming is the perfect end

Before I get into this blog post I just want to briefly acknowledge how sad I was to read Fat Cyclist’s blog post of the 5th of August, letting us know his courageous and amazing wife had finally succumbed to the cancer she had been fighting so long. His blog has been an inspiration to me for a long time and now. WIN Fatty!

Anyway onto happier things, such as the stunning weekend we just had in Christchurch, in fact I believe most of this glorious country experienced fantastic sunny weather this weekend. For me this meant a weekend of boundary pushing. It started well on Friday evening with a quick jaunt up Kennedy’s Bush. It was a bit nippy out and I stupidly was only wearing shorts and a short sleeved top with a woolie singlet under it. The icy wind was whipping off Lake Ellesmere, so I had to work extra hard to just stay warm. We hammered up pretty quickly and I revelled in the 1 minute singletrack descent at the halfway point as usual. Further up I was distracted by the cute hairy cows again and almost feel off my bike laughing as one stumbled down a bank in front of me. It looked completely drunk! We got to the last steep climb and the sun was setting behind the Alps and the wind was really picking up. I pushed my freezing body as hard as I could, but I was just so cold. I stopped and put my extra warm Ice Queen on, but the damage was done, I was just too cold now. Didn’t quite make it to the top, but enjoyed the breath-taking sunset and then headed down out of the biting wind. It was getting quite dark now and I found it an interesting battle between the part of my brain that was saying “Oi! Slow down, it’s dark, you can’t really see the ruts” and the part of my brain that was saying “Faster, faster, faster, it’s cold, get out of the wind”. It turns out the go faster part won, it often does, and I flew down the hill, till I got back to the hairy cows. They were arrayed across the track and in the dying light the seemed much more receptive to patting. I couldn’t resist stopping and patting the cute baby cow with the floppy fringe while it’s gorgeous mum licked the salt off my leg. Of course this delay meant it was even darker by the time we got to the singletrack on the front of the hill. I was adamant I would be sensible and ride the 4wd track down but as my lovely husband zoomed down the singletrack I just had to follow him. I know this track well and really wanted to try riding it in the gloomy fading light. It was fun. I was grinning at the bottom. At fantastic ride, if only there had been more hot water when we got home.

Saturday was a stunner, if a bit blusterous. I’d checked if it was ok to ride at Living Springs and been given the go ahead so hubby and I went and picked up Rita and headed over. The track was in excellent condition, with only one really wet patch right at the very bottom of Zanes. Unfortunately I didn’t see it till too late of my first lap and end up sliding along the bank at high speed and being completely coated in mud on one side! Ooops. I daintily walked this section the next lap. My legs weren’t very happy on the climbs, apparently the previous night’s hammering at Kennedy’s had left them slightly tired so riding up the steep tractor-chewed 4wd track wasn’t super good, or to be honest, good at all. Once into the singletrack things were much better and it was beautiful climbing up the switchbacks through the trees.

The descent was completely fantastic. Lots of tight corners, flowy sections and challenging pinches. And all in the beautiful yellow glowing light. One section of track was completely covered in leaves and riding through there was magical. I really loved riding the track, in fact so much so that I was willing to take on the horrible climb a second time. The second time hurt bad going up, even the climb through the forest wasn’t fun for me this time. But it was worth it and I was grinning madly at the end. A stop at the Governor’s Bay pub on the way home for beer, wedges and cake capped off at great ride.

Ahhh, SUNday. Even better weather than Saturday, no nasty wind. Really, what I should have been doing was some sifty, flat riding to recover from the two previous high intensity days. But the hills were bathed in warm sunlight and I was aching (well I am today) to ride the tracks I’d so recently walked, Greenwood Park, Godley Head (argh!) and the beautiful Anaconda. Cunningly I planned to drive up to the top and Mt Pleasant Rd so I could ride Greenwood with my legs as fresh as possible, not very fresh it turns out. More like a bit of one day old bread that’s been left on the bench in the sun. Uh, oh. It was just me and scatter, and as we wound our way around the hill and through the rocks we were very happy. I rode better than expected and finally mastered the art of floating up rocky bits while still pedalling. There were only a few sections on Greenwood that I walked and only one pedal-into-rock-stopping-bike-suddenly incident (which was just amusing rather than painful). I loved Greenwood Park and can’t wait to ride it again. Lots of challenges, but soooo much fun.

Then we were onto the dreaded Godley Head track with its initial rocky death wall (as I call it). I was pretty tired already and knew that there would be a lot of pushing my bike up rocks. And there was, but there was also more riding my bike up rocks than expected which made me very happy. Then we were through that really tough section and out onto the flowy, and recently well armoured, sections, hooning over the boardwalks and generally having a great time. The descent back down the other side of the hill was so flowy and fast I was grinning and laughing. And then suddenly I was laughing even harder when I hit a rut at the bottom and gracefully crashed in slow motion, coming to rest on my side, fully stretched out up on my elbow as if I was reclining on a chaise longue and one foot still attached to my bike. It was hilarious, and luckily a rider coming the other way got to enjoy the spectacle I’d made of myself because a crash like that needs to be seen and enjoyed by others. He congratulated me on my grace and amusingness, which I thought was nice of him.

Then finally we were at the top of the Anaconda. This serpentine track winds down to Taylor’s Mistake and has become truly brilliant in the last couple of years. Oh, I’ve been wanting to ride this for a long time now. It was so good, the big bermed corners encouraging speed, the little groms pushing their bikes up – stunned to see two chicks riding down it at top speed, the sun and sea sparkling and then, too soon, it was over. And the ride was over and our ride was there to pick us up and take me back up to my car. Thanks Slim!

It was a fantastic weekend of pushing my skills and fitness to the limit in great company and I loved it all, even when it hurt, even when I had to lie down and eat a banana cause I couldn’t move any further and even when I stuffed up bits of track and had to walk them. I’m very glad I have yoga tonight because I’ve got aches and pains in new and exciting places and need a damn good stretching. Bring on more sunny weather!