Simon Cotter's blog

Simon has traded in his Subaru and bought this Mitsubishi Evo. Nice car, Simon.

I've added a link on the right hand side of this page to Simon Cotter's blog. If ever you want to see it, click the link or, if you're reading this post, click here!

Advice from down under on punctures....

Our friend Simon Cotter in Australia seems to have sorted out the puncture problem. He told me, "I used a chemical that you add to the air in the tyre which stops leaks. It works a treat. However if you use tubless tyres the stuff reacts to the tyre itself and causes huge blisters! So the bike shop fitted tubes and the chemical and hey presto! no more punctures!"

Whatever it is, it's available here too so perhaps we ought to enquire about that, just a thought.

Thanks, Simon, for the pointer on that one.

Through the smallholdings

Top: the road to nowhere? Nope, it takes you back through Wallington. The other shot is my bike resting against a fence along the same stretch of road.

Jon and I commented on a walk we enjoyed years ago when living at home with mum and dad. It was along an isolated road running through the smallholdings at the top of Wallington over the Christmas period, probably Christmas Day, as these were in the days when everything was closed and if you were suffering from cabin fever the best thing to do was go for a walk.

I stumbled across the lane again on Saturday and here's the evidence. It's amazing, looking at these photographs, to think that I was in Wallington in Greater London and not somewhere a little more remote.

Mum & Dad's and then Woldingham

From the top: our bikes at the rest point in Woldingham plus the view and a shot of Andy on Warlingham Green just prior to setting off and taken on the iPhone.

Andy couldn't make it on Saturday, meaning a later start than usual for your truly, which meant that a trip to Merstham was kind of out of the question as Jon and I had things to do back home. In the end we decided to visit mum and dad in Carshalton for some Shredded Wheat and a cup of tea – you can't beat a free breakfast, especially one prepared by mum.

Jon and I then cycled around the Poets Estate (where all the houses are named after poets: Milton Avenue, Browning Avenue, Coleridge Avenue) and then went our separate ways. I found an interesting short cut to the top of Wallington.

Sunday saw Andy and I head out to a resting point in Woldingham, not a million miles from Botley Hill Farm. We were originally going to the Tatsfield Bus Stop but decided to cut it short and stop where we stopped – there was a bench there and some amazing views as we were high up and overlooking the M25 – pity they were partly obscured by a barbed wire fence, but then there is a sheer drop of a few hundred feet just a few yards from the fence.

Andy and I both have new iPhones so we chatted about them more than anything else and then headed home. The pic of Andy above was taken on my iphone.

News just in!!!!

Photo credit: Jill Torrance, Arizona Daily Star.

We're on our bikes for what? A couple hours? Something like that, but hey! Check out the Kona 24-hour mountain bike race! Click here!

Jon's slow puncture

Jon pumping up his slow puncture outside the Hunger's End Café in Merstham on Saturday 6 March 2010. He needs to fix it properly before it becomes a fast puncture.

6 & 7 March 2010 – to Merstham for breakfast!

Andy's bun – but as you know, precious grams mean nothing to us and what's a sticky bun among friends?

I think the phrase 'variety is the spice of life' is key in cycling, and now that we have a new default cycle route (to Merstham in Surrey) we've kind of moved on from Woodmansterne Green, which is now there as a quick route should we not have time for anything else. Having said that, of course, if we keep going to Merstham for breakfast at the Hunger's End cafe, then it's soon going to become boring and we'll start yearning for new destinations. The key, then, is variety.

Okay, on to this weekend. Saturday was a full house: Andy, Jon and yours truly; and we all headed off for Merstham and Hunger's End where Andy had a cream bun, I had scrambled eggs on toast and Jon had a smaller version of the Full English he had last week. We all had mugs of tea and I had two and then headed back home – Andy along the A23 and Jon and I through the quiet lanes that weave their way under the M25 and back towards Chipstead and Banstead.

The Merstham run is good because it's fairly long. All told, the trip covers 30 miles or thereabouts, so it's equivalent in work-out terms to our Chevening Lake route. Merstham is okay; a little eccentric, what with the shaving man, who is there EVERY Saturday. Apparently he likes watching Merstham FC, the local team. The women who run the caff all smoke, which is not good, but they're a friendly bunch and they can rustle up a decent breakfast. That, of course, is the great thing about cycling to Merstham. It's a long way and there's a nasty hill (from the bottom to the top of Hazlewood Lane) but that makes the notion of a big breakfast even more exciting. The problem is getting back off our arses, on the bikes and home again. To be honest, I could sit there all day drinking tea, watching the shaving man and chewing the fat with Andy and Jon. Still, you can't everything.

I was out late on Saturday night and didn't turn in until 1am in the morning so the prospect of a Sunday cycle was not good. Having said that, I did wake up around 0630 and wasn't feeling that tired, but I stuck with my abort message sent to Andy very early on Sunday morning. He didn't go cycling, but Jon called me from Woodmansterne Green. I felt a little envious as I stood in the conservatory chatting on the mobile as the sun shone brightly outside. And here I am now, Sunday morning, just gone 1030, the sun is shining and I'm still in my dressing gown, wishing I'd gone out in the fresh air. My only consolation? That Andy was still in bed when I called him, about 30 minutes ago, to see if he'd gone out.

Now I feel tainted by not having gone out, but that's the way of the world and I shouldn't beat myself up over it.

Retro Kona website – worth a peek!

Check out this amazing site all about retro Kona bikes. There's old catalogues, all sorts. Yes, I know it's a bit 'anoraky' but who cares? Click here!!!

The River Wandle as it flows through Grove Park, Carshalton

The River Wandle as it flows through Carshalton.

The River Wandle as it weaves through Grove Park in Carshalton. It brings back happy memories of fishing with a net on a bamboo stick and playing with our Star model yachts, made in Birkenhead, but probably not any more. I've still got one in my attic.

The River Wandle will always bring back happy childhood memories for me; Dad used to take us fishing for sticklebacks with our bamboo fishing nets and I remember sailing many a model boat here too. Just down from where this shot was taken there is a gushing waterfall and an old mill where it is rumoured that a small boy, died; but that story is as old as the hills, although probably true. The mill used to have – probably still does, I haven't looked for ages – a mill pond covered in a green algae of sorts. Looking at it gave the illusion of solid ground, it was that still, but throw a stone into it and the 'plop' told the truth – it's water! Just down from the old mill used to be a mortuary. It was used during the war and closed down shortly afterwards, but that didn't stop Graham Knowles and I from venturing inside when we discovered it was fairly easy to gain access. I had a large remote control Tiger Tank at the time (what a great toy!), which we sent in first, like one of those remote control robots used in bomb disposal and about the same size. I cannot recall if I had the bottle to go inside the mortuary, but others did and found old shrouds and coffin lids and some dried-up blood on the old slabs. Not nice. My dad called the council and got it closed down. Today there are new houses in its place – now there's got to be a plot for a story there, a brand new house, haunted, but why? And then someone digs up the history of the mortuary – spooky!

Jack Shit handle grips...

My Kona Scrap, complete with Kona's Jack Shit handlegrips, leaning against a tree in Grove Park, Carshalton, Surrey.

Mine were getting a bit worn and full of holes, so when I took the bike in to have the hydraulic brakes made safe, I bought some Jack Shit handle grips. The bike, incidentally, needs a service.