5 MUST HAVES IN ANY SADDLE BAG

There's so many articles about what one should pack in their saddle bag.
But so many of them miss the point.
See, punctures are a bitch, but there's always a friendly soul, or a convenient bike shop close by.
What you really need in a saddle bag are the following...


1. SELFIE STICK-

It's hard to hold your phone and operate the camera and take the snap and keep it focused. So this year, I'm packing a selfie stick ready for the grams.

Here's a warning shot of a selfie without the stick:

2. A MUG OF CONCRETE + A SHOULDER TO CRY ON

Let me put it this way - I'm not a complainer when it comes to hurting on the bike.
...
Well, not often.
...
Well, I complain a bit but I keep it to myself.
...
I complain a fair amount but not heaps more than your average.
...
I do complain though.
...
When it's cold.
...
Heaps.
...
In my head.
...
Nah, out loud.
...

I'm softer than the fur on a new born colt. 

Someone get this man a Mug, STAT!

3.HAND SANITISER (waterless of course!)

I'm no germaphobe, but you don't need to be to understand that any time you enter a public toilet, you'll be leaving with more than you came in with. Bugs. Lots and lots of dirty bugs.

Question without notice: How many feces NOT in the toilet does a Council need to see before they decide to refill the soap dispenser? In my experience, apparently heaps.

So if you don't want more bed-bugs than a backpackers bunk accompanying you on your ride home, get some squeegee.

P.S What's going on in this pic? Why is there a Question mark after 'Handwash'? And why is wash faded out, that leaves it reading as How to Hand. Bizarre.

4. COURAGE

The courage to start a dialogue with that cyclist that's out on the open road with absolutely no idea how faded and see-through their knicks have become.
Years of heavy work and hearty sweat in the saddle has made those butt cheeks look good, but not everyone in the slipstream needs to be 'copping an eyeful of the peach' as they say.
So if you swing up alongside a worn-out traveler, just dip into your saddle bag, pinch a sprinkle of that courage out and let them know it might be time to re-invest in some new kit.

5. A BIG HEART FULLA JOY

"Get off the road!"
"Scum!"
"Nice lycra Dickhead!"
"Hi, I'm a NSW's Politician and cyclists suck, am I right!?"
"My daughter rides a tricylce with training wheels and she's just learning and it's a really rewarding experience for me as a father and I love her but it doesn't change the fact that I hate you being in my God Damned Car Lane!"

Ahhhhh....the bike....what a joyous place to be.

Thanks for reading.

HOW TO SPOT, THEN AVOID A BIKE COURIER

Hooley Dooley.
Bicycle Couriers are a total breed unto themselves aren't they?

The hard core, rustic, rusted, born cyclists that clearly know how they look and feel how they're seen.

If you've ever been in the CBD and your vision is momentarily blurred by a mess of backpack + tattoo ink + bushy beard in the wind, chances are you've just been in the presence of a BC.
Fast. Stealthy. Devils.
I'm convinced Speed 3 the movie will be based on Bike Couriers because these guys n.e.v.e.r s.t.o.p p.e.d.a.l.i.n.g
It's like an oath they take from the moment they saddle up.

So it's generally a situation of get out of the way, or get pancaked.
Don't believe that can happen?
You should.
Because it can...happen.

People need to know how to stroll the CBD whilst avoiding these creatures that swoop harder than a magpie.

Here's your go-to safety guide of how to Spot, then Avoid a Bike Courier.

1. LISTEN FOR THE JINGLE JANGLE

Rock-climbers probably think they're pretty cool with their purple carabiners hanging loose.
Bike Couriers think they're cooler.
It's like a game of 'How many keys can a carabiner hold before it explodes?'
As a game, it's no scrabble, put it that way, but let them have their fun.
Add on a chain lock dumped across the shoulders and these guys are starting to rattle like the tin can of a charity worker.
It's this very noise that our aural senses need to pick up early to have the best chance of avoiding that fatal collision.

Image source [click here]

2. SEE STICKER - STEP BACK

Remember when you were a kid and sticker books were the bee's pajamas? Those days never ended for Bike Couriers, the only difference is, instead of a book, the now have a bike. And instead of stickers of cartoon cats and cars, they've got stickers of brands that may as well have never existed, and others with four letters and ill-intentions.
But generally these stickers and drowning with Pantone Colours, so when you see that rainbow, step back and count to five. By that time the danger should have passed and you can cross the road with calm resolve.

Image source [click here]

3. A GREAT BIG BUSHY BEARD

Look at a majority of cyclists and you'll be able to see their chins. If you look at a cyclist and you don't see a chin, be warned.
Of course this isn't the case 100% of the time, so how do you make that final distinction between a safe bet, and a pancaking? Simple. Beard oil.
Is that face bush deliciously groomed?
Does it look like someone's stuck a cosy cushion onto the bottom of their head?
Bingo, it's a bloody Bike Courier.

4. CALVES THAT COULD KILL

This doesn't meant they're massive hulking calves that could flatten a rat. No, quite the contrary, they can be of a normal or even delicate size.
But they'll always be sharp enough to cut through glass.
They're almost like a cut diamond in their perfection. Reflecting, refracting and dispersing the light.
Hypnotic.

Image source [click here]

5. DENIM/CARGO + RIPS

Doesn't matter if it's shorts or jeans, just look for denim or cargo.
If there's at least 36% skin showing through (deliberate) wear and tear holes, you're onto a courier.
The silver bullet is if there's a tattoo of a sparrow, or a ship in high seas framed neatly in the hole. That's when you know you're onto the queen bee. If this courier dies, all others die too. It's a jungle out there.

So that's that.
Generally we can apply animal instinct to these increasingly apparent reptiles. Like a snake, if you stay outta their territory they won't bite. The problem is when they come into your territory, at which point, call a professional to come with a long stick and a hessian bag.

In the meantime, happy walking.

Mr Newdick for something new.

Just a side note to start, the average speeds clocked in the screenshot on the right go some way to proving there may be a drug or two left in cycling.
But moving on at 137.6 km/h.

Melbourne registered it's coldest morning in 16 years the other day. Colder than a snowman's nose.
Wait...not his nose cause that's a -
I mean his arms. Colder than his....no wait - hat, colder than his...forget it.

Stupidly, my brother and I had organised the night previous to get out for a ride.
When we left it was 1.5 degrees celsius or 34.7 farenheit for those of you lost in an Imperial world.

Now I know a thing or two about heat, and particularly heat in vests.
Yes, that's me dashingly modelling the Heller Heated Vest Size Small in the image below.
You can tell my Model Game is on point by the hooked thumb in my back pocket. Nice. That cheeky little maneuver opens up the chest. Can't you tell?

(NB: The picture below was taken by a family member who found it in a bargain bin at their local bargain shop. I strongly insisted that there must have been a mistake with both shipping and handling for it to end up there. These puppies are in high demand I'll tell you.)

So no, not that heated vest, but a lovely new Endura Windchill II Gilet. That, paired with a long sleeve over the top was enough to keep the core warm. It didn't however, prevent a localised spat between heart and fingers.

I get the feeling my heart has something against my fingers. As if they're the 10 'mistakes' or unwanted children that should never have been had. It's the first place the blood stops pumping when the mercury bottoms out. My heart tends to cut them off faster that a drinker in rehab. As a result, they go numb, and then hurt - so bad. Maybe the only way out of this is to Bear Grills it, gut a few cute and fluffy animals I find in the wild and wear them instead. I mean, I've seen the show but never really considered it as a viable option until now.

Changing topics but sticking with the hand theme, on this ride I frequented the little boys room and AGAIN, saw a man not wash his hands before he left. Granted he hadn't sat down to do the hefty stuff and was in and out in a jiffy (in a number of ways you might say), but surely you've still gotta wash the digets on exit? I see this a lot with men. Considering the most commonly used form of introduction around here is with a handshake, it makes me wary of any man I greet. It's hardly appropriate just before shaking to ask:

"Hi there mate, quick double-barrell to start. Have you (a) used the loo recently and, if so (b) given the old 5 headed hydras a wash following said use?"

I may be coming across as a bit of a germaphobe here and forgetting the days when mud was a staple on my lunchtime menu, but the germs in mud are from the crotch of the earth, not the crotch of another man. I rest my case. https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHeGvpivxAz0FruDjIaKEYfdxGg7ZUmv37TBcGSSZKBjqO1-pWH1SkjuE-uyoPer7SqhWmFFq-6iRUCFtqqCid8VAsHkWVf94KW_bBViy1qcqxVtm36CHJgpPEIlTK8me7AKpsL6-taDE/s1600/Brent+Newdick.jpg

In other news, away from cycling, we recently had the Commonwealth Games, a mini-olympics for all the nations in the world that - way back when - Britain said "Yep, we'll have you." Watching the athletics one night, my friends noticed this particular New Zealand gentleman.

Now I don't understand people like the English woman who renamed herself Pink Sparkly and All Things Nice. But if Brent wants to go ahead and backtrack on what mum and dad thought'd be great at the time, then he's got my support.

"Hi, I'm here for my appointment."

"Name?"

"Brent."

"Ah yes, Newdick was it?"

"No, no, just a checkup."

And in that instant everyone in the waiting room thinks, "Poor bastard, this world wasn't made for men packing a small punch."

The other thing about Brent's name that fascinates me is the fact that they're from New Zealand. As far as I can tell, the Kiwi accent would go some way towards masking the R. That can't be a good thing when using the full name. 

No wonder he's a sprinter, he probably got all his training running away from bashings every lunchtime. 

Good one Mr and Mrs Newdick.