So, finally something genuinely interesting and actually quite innovative arrives amongst the stacks of Eurobike pics currently swamping the browsers, twitter feeds and Facebook pages of cycling fans around the world…

I present to you, the Hope integrated cassette and freehub:

Frankly, genius.  Well, if you run Hope hubs that is.  But I bet it won’t be long before other companies follow suit. 

Being both visually attractive and lighter than standard separate items (and that’s using SRAM XX as the benchmark) I suspect it’s only a matter of time before the likes of Mavic, DT Swiss and Reynolds are producing similar systems for their own wheels, maybe to be followed up by the likes of AX-Lightness and Tune offering carbon examples… ok so maybe not that last bit, but stranger things have happened.

I can’t help thinking that this has taken longer than it should have done though?  A fine thing to say in hindsight, admittedly – but headsets went integrated quite some time ago now and bottom brackets have been heading that way for a while (even if nobody can agree what is actually the best method to do so or width of axle to use).  Then of course there's the 'love it or hate it' integrated seatpost, and the 'it isn't lighter so why bother' integrated bar and stem.  To me this seems like one of the “of course!” moments and it makes me wonder what else we’re missing…

Regardless, I’m tempted to switch to Hope hubs just so I can have one! 

I don't need to tell anyone reading this that I'd kind of settled on Pegoretti for my dream build, and may still be the case... but sometimes something comes along that makes you sit up and take notice.  Like really take notice...

Step up Ricky Feather of Feather Cycles:

I've always been keen to work with a UK frame builder, but until now nothing has really 'done it' for me.  I've not stopped drooling over the shots on Ricky's site since I was sent a link.

You see, owning a Pegoretti would be really special - a bike that I would love and treasure, and no doubt thoroughly enjoy.  The Pegoretti option still really appeals... I just can't help thinking that creating something totally unique and a complete one off, working with a UK builder would be an experience to savour.  Besides which, how nice are those webbed lugs?...!

I'm yet to contact Ricky as I'm not ready to pull the trigger on a custom build and I don't want to waste anybody's time just yet.  It's fairly clear from his site that his focus is fixers with 1" headsets and quill stems.  Regardless, I'd like to think he'd be keen to have a go at a more contemporary build, and I'd love to take a trip up to Yorkshire to chew the fat on some plans with him over a beverage of some description.

I've got some cracking ideas for a modern-classic style Di2-specific frame in 853...

I’m in Kamikaze mode again – “off on one” some might say…

First things first, ‘dream bike’ will still happen.  However, as I have been reminded a couple of times in the last week my back still needs some time to get sorted – I reckon it’ll be next year before I do ride longer than four hours now.  When ‘dream bike’ does happen I still firmly believe it’ll be a Pegoretti with some seriously lush kit on it, but splashing out on something custom right now isn’t the wisest of ideas. 

So instead I’m using the time to try something different, which I was sort of planning on doing anyway only I was never all that sure about the options available.  My measure-up at CycleFit told me I needed a shorter top tube, which I already knew.  The difficulty I’ve had is finding a frame with a short enough top tube whilst still maintaining a tall enough head tube otherwise I was always going to end up with a fairly significant saddle to bar drop – basically just moving the problem rather than solving it. 

Colnago’s CX-1 and Cervelo’s RS both fitted the bill in terms of a shorter top tube and taller head tube, but I was never satisfied enough that the head tube height on either was sufficient.  Going up a size to get the head tube height I want meant pushing out the top tube again, and then they were both longer than my current Lynskey (which is already a tad too long).  Other frames fitted into the same limitations – Specialized Roubaix and Cannondale’s Synapse & CAAD8 amongst others. 

Then last night I chanced upon the Look 585 Optimum.  The XL / 57cm has a 56cm top tube (1.5cm shorter than the Lynskey) and a 19cm head tube.  This puts me right where I want to be.  Although the head tube is still slightly shorter (1.5cm) than the Lynskey the shorter top tube will position me more upright anyway, and despite theoretically being a larger size than the equivalent CX-1 or RS the top tube on the 585 is shorter and the head tube taller.

This frame feels like it will close a loop for me.  In the last couple of years I’ve ridden smaller race frames (55cm Omega Enigma, 56cm Cervelo Soloist, 56cm Cervelo R3), larger race frames (58cm Cannondale CAAD9, 58cm Cannondale SystemSix) and a larger relaxed geometry frame (Lynskey R330).  Despite being an XL or 57cm frame it sort of fits into a ‘smaller relaxed geometry’ category as the top tube is actually shorter than my previous 56cm frames (it’s really only an XL on account of its long seat tube).  All of these frames will have had enough differences in geometry, angles, fork rakes, wheelbases and front-centre measurements for me to really know how I like a bike to handle.  As such when I come to pull the trigger on ‘dream bike’ I’ll know exactly what works.

But it's not all just a test - 'dream bike' is likely to be both metal and comparatively heavy as far as the frame is concerned.  Being Ti the Lynskey is also metal and comparatively heavy.  At less than a kilo the 585 would serve well as a lightweight carbon race machine and useful second bike for when it's not quite perfect enough conditions to wheel out 'dream bike'.  It benefits over the Lynskey in being different enough to have real and useful purpose long term in a bike collection.

I have the Slane Cycles website up and an XL 585 is sat in my ‘shopping basket’ along with the rather lovely Look HSD stem to match it – the lethal combination of my credit card and an itchy mouse finger could see one arriving by Saturday… but I’m hoping a second hand one will crop up first. 

Kamikaze?  Extravagant?  Just plain stupid?  Possibly.  Probably in fact.  But frankly I don’t care – I just want to be comfortable on a bike again.

In the distance, I could hear something beeping. Oh CRAP, one of my alarms or my mobile has gone off and I’ve really annoyed Jacky.  I leapt out of bed and started to go through the bags.

“No T-Bag, there’s a FIRE ALARM”.  I reappeared from the depths of my bag and glanced at a clock.  12.30 a.m. I’d been asleep for just an hour and a half.  Before I could say something along the lines of ‘oh for Pete’s sake’ Jacky had opened the door and confirmed that the door to the fire escape was open.  We had to go outside. Quickly making ourselves decent, we stopped momentarily and looked at each other.  “Do I look alright?”  Even in the midst of a fire crisis we were worrying about what we looked like.  Once in the car park we were two of only 5 people to appear. A fellow rider appeared armed with the Times crossword – he clearly thought we’d be there a while. Looking up at our hotel, all the room lights were on, but there was no movement.  And then the alarm switched off.  Back up to the room we trooped.

The hotel porter had burned a Croque Monsieur.  How very dare he.

What was supposed to be a nice 6 hours sleep, was reduced to around 3.  Nobody had slept very well.  Down at breakfast the looks on people’s faces ranged from stunned, to pooped to ‘what fire alarm?’ 

Once the dazed and confused all had breakfasts and many a double espresso, we were picked up by bus and taken to the school gym that had stored all our bikes over night.  Tyres pumped up, water bottles filled and bananas in our back pockets, we headed on our way. 

It was going to be a long ride to lunch – 80 miles with 1600 metres of climbing.  The sun was once again beating down on us – it was going to be a hot ride. Once again people in villages came out to clap us along.  In one village we managed to have a sheep decide to run between us.  Highly dangerous as said sheep was then chased by a sheep dog. Thankfully there were no falls, but it kept us on our toes. 

Again, the scenery was beautiful and the hills challenged. We went past corn fields, fields full of sunflowers and fields full of some sort of blue flower (and it wasn’t lavender) – we still haven’t worked out what that flower was.  Quite a few times we commented that the fields alongside of the road were like something out of a Monet scene. At the top of the hills we shared jelly-babies and Haribo, and at stops to fill up our water bottles mini water fights broke out.  Water splashed at heads and backs, light relief to the relentless heat.

Eventually we came to the big climb of the day.  I got myself into the middle and went up, and again I loved it. What next?  Mount Ventoux? Maybe not.  Yet. The best thing about getting to the top of this climb?  We knew we were now well on our way to lunch.   The descent of this hill was fun. Sally and I managed to sing all 6ish verses and choruses of Bohemian Rhapsody whilst doing 55kph down a hill, with only a slight pause when we debated whether we’d missed a verse out before ‘I’m a little silhouetto of a man…’.  Other people joined in.  You do talk and sing some crap when out cycling.

The elation didn’t last very long. After a while the mood became low, as everyone really wanted lunch to be round the next corner.  Bellies hungry, bottoms hurting we just wanted to get to lunch. 

Eventually one of the outriders stopped on a roundabout, and he indicated just to go round to the left whilst using the universal sign of pinched fingers to lips (food).  Lunch was here!

As we arrived, we discovered that we had just 15 minutes for lunch, again. I dumped my bike went straight in to find food.  Lunch today was to be a tuna/mayo baguette, a chocolate éclair, more ambrosia creamed rice and a banana.  I also grabbed a bottle of water to top up my bottles and anyone else’s should they want some.

Sally joined me and we plonked ourselves down into the shade.  As bottoms hit the ground, I noticed that tears were rolling down her face.  I quickly administered some chocolate éclair.  She rapidly looked a much better colour.  In the distance, I could hear Jacky sobbing.  Will Carling and friends were looking after her fetching food and water.  Her sugar levels had also dropped too low.

I was a bit sick of Kellogg’s Elevenses by day three, but that morning I’d eaten two of them, at least one banana and half a bag of jelly babies.  Yes piggy I know.  I hate talking about the body in the third person – it’s not an alien being, we’re in charge of it, but it is so important not to underestimate how much fuel your body needs on these rides.   

Food consumed and bottles topped up, we were told it was time to leave.  The final journey into Paris was going to take a slightly different format, in that all 350ish of us were going to roll into Paris as one big group.  What is more, all the ladies were to cycle at the front.  Of the 350ish riders, I’d say just 30 of us were women – that’s not even 10%.

We were led out by all the outriders, and surrounded by support vehicles for the last miles into Paris.  Heading into Paris, it was a busy Saturday afternoon – that was clear by the amount of traffic heading in the opposite direction.  Even though we were riding on closed roads, which would have meant a huge number of inconvenienced people, no one seemed to mind.  First we were on little roads, and then onto dual carriageways into Paris.  All the cars stopped, local buses held at bus stops and people held at zebra crossings.  They all smiled, clapped and cheered us on.  At one point there was a wedding convoy heading in the other direction, white ribbons and flowers attached to their cars.  They all beeped their horn, stood through sun roofs and waved.  People sat in cafés on the side of the street, stood up and took photos and videos on their mobiles and clapped.

Eventually we arrived at the Place de la Concord, where the cobbles started.  After spending over 20 hours in the saddle, all I’ll say is that cobbles hurt.  Wrists, elbows, hips and shoulders all rattled, but somehow it didn’t matter.  The people down the side of the road continued to cheer.  This continued down the Champs Élysées. 

We then hit the Arc D’Triomph.  All the traffic, people and motor, had been cleared.  The open top buses pushed to one side. Everyone was egging us on, taking photos and shouting.

I suddenly experienced the most surreal sensation. It was 32ºC, and due to the exertion from that morning and riding in to Paris, I felt like a perspiring mess.  But my skin felt cold.  Goosebumps. 

Before I knew it, we were all over the bridge, onto smooth tarmac roads once more, and past the Eiffel Tower.  Then all of a sudden we were at the finish line.  Parents, friends and family all waiting for us it was suddenly all over.

Two glasses of champagne each later, Jacky and I struggled to make the card key for our hotel room work.  One strop and a pissed walk to reception to sort it later, we were in our room jumping up and down on the beds, delirious with happiness.  It is amazing how it is the most basic of emotions that make the biggest impact on your life.

The Gala evening followed, more shared stories, speeches, the first viewing of a rough edit of our event film, and then it was time to roll out to the pub. More booze was consumed.  Rumour has it, one of the more famous teams cycling the L2P, raced down the Champs Élysées on hired Vélibs.  

Rather worse for wear at 4am, we rolled back to the hotel, the L2P experience as good as over.  I didn’t feel particularly perky the next morning so thank you Jacky, for actually going to breakfast and delivering suffering, little old me, still in bed, breakfast wrapped in a napkin (2 croissants and a cheese baguette) from the hotel breakfast buffet. 

A spot of sightseeing, a little lunch and I was on the Eurostar home.

Back in London, sat on my sofa, devouring take away pizza, admiring my tan lines I couldn’t believe it was all over.  On the Tuesday morning as I cycled to work (in the drizzle) all I could think was that I would much rather be back in France pretending to be on Le Tour.

Will I be doing it again?  You try and stop me.

         

Click here to download:

london-to-paris-day-3-amiens-to-paris-ErevHivzojrwoFvycsrH.zip (673 KB)

Look at this:

Just one of many reasons I've spent the last couple of weeks lusting over Pegorettis.

Regardless of material, I think I've made my mind up - they feel the most 'special'. Like, PROPERLY special.

Lush.

Fitting sessions are a funny old game.  I’ve had three now, each by a different specialist, each using a different style, all offering very different outcomes.  I finally now have a stable pedalling platform as last night’s fitting at CycleFit in Covent Garden resulted in a shimmed right cleat, an adjustment to my pedalling technique and, as a result, a noticeable reduction in the drop of my right hip on the down stroke.  I’ll be getting a second opinion on the position though, or I’m going to be riding a very odd looking frame when this bike of mine is finally done – I reckon I’d need a 25cm head tube going by the dimensions on the Serotta jig! 

It’s going to result in a lot of money spent on fitting sessions but given the budget of this dream build I don’t necessarily see that as a bad thing.  But this is where I begin to question the whole bike fit scene…

Retul is a digital setup which gives readings from electronic recordings of the movement of sensors strategically placed on the body.  Bike fit is then adjusted based on a range of angles that are recommended by the system.  I prefer the accuracy of the system, but I can’t help wondering who decided these ranges of angles were ‘right’.  That said, I like the output it gives which show readings of how your knee tracks, how the geometry tweaks change the angles of your body and act as a ‘ready reckoner’ to return to and refer to when you’re setting your bike up.  It’ll probably be my first port of call if and when I decide to have another session.

Very simplistically, the BG Fit I had felt like it was based on someone moving two prongs to align to points along my body and then reading and recording the angles shown.  It might just be me, but this felt a bit too ‘hit and miss’ for my liking – if the bloke taking the readings couldn’t be bothered to do it properly, was having a bad day or was in a rush to get home could he not measure an angle wrong?  I reckon so.  It also relies on ‘KOP’, or ‘Knee Over Pedal’.  Recent studies seem to point to this being an old fashioned and out-dated system which may not be entirely relevant for everyone.  I just have too much doubt to be happy with this system.  Maybe I’ve got it wrong, or just didn’t like the fact that it’s been brought about by Specialized, but it just didn’t ring true with me (not helped by the fact that the shop in question had lost all my details and measurements when I returned to them to take a bike out for a test).

CycleFit were no less ‘manual’ than the BG Fit with angles being measured by a ‘bloke with a measuring tool’, but I somehow felt better about it over the BG Fit from the outset.  My own approach was slightly different with CycleFit as in an ideal world they would have worked with me on my own bike, only I opted not to take it in.  The goal for me was to see what their outcome would be in setting me up in what they considered to be my ideal position on a jig, then enabling me to take those measurements away to match either on my current bike or by making a (reasonably cheap) change to something else to try for a while.  I also had a quite specific aim for sorting my leg length discrepancy, and I have to say that I came away from there last night feeling like they had really achieved this.  The flipside of the output from CycleFit was that whilst their ultimate position for me was comfortable I know I’ll never ride a road bike sat quite so upright.  It just didn’t feel right.  I couldn’t help but doubt it too when I asked whether I was sat up that high due to biometrics or flexibility, the response to which was “a bit of both” – so you’re telling me if I stretch more you’ll lower the front of the bike?  Not an ideal basis to build a custom frame on then really.

It’s interesting to note that two of the three sessions were able to sell me expensive custom made frames and I was willing to be guided down that route, yet they told me I was fine on what I was already riding.  In stark contrast the third was adamant that the only way I’d be able to get my position right on a bike would be to go custom. 

As I’ve already hinted, I want to go back to Barry at Bespoke Cycling to see what the Retul machine says about how my knees are tracking now that I’ve been shimmed.  I totally buy in to the way the system is able to show up knee movement through its laser tracking, and the knowledge that the tweaks in saddle height are being measured and analysed puts my mind at rest (something I like about the Retul system as a whole).  It’ll be interesting to see how the Retul system ‘decides’ I should be setup now too, both compared to how I was about a year and a half ago when I was last in there and versus the CycleFit output from last night.

One thing the CycleFit session was very clear on is that I need a shorter top tube, and I had guessed as much anyway.  I also now have the peace of mind that I was in the right ballpark with my saddle height, and that running a 175mm crank does suit my leg length. 

The key now in getting things right for my dream machine is going to be in finding a happy medium between bike fit outputs and in trying a few different frames out, the latter of which is going to mean borrowing some bikes…

Tuesday 3rd of August.  A colleague walks over to my desk and says he's going to send me a link to something in the Guardian, and that I'm either going laugh or cry about it.  Okaaay.  This usually means I'm going to be highly irritated by something.

He wasn't wrong.

There is an interview with model Erin O'Connor which is actually quite good.  She's an ambassador for the Sky Rides and is a keen cyclist herself.  She was keen to spread the message that cycling is for everyone, that even she wears a helmet and that everyone has war stories about falling off their bikes, whether it be stupidly or heroically.  The message was positive.

So what does the Guardian do to back up this positive piece about women and cycling?  They produce a photo gallery of piece called 'The best cycling gear for women'. 

The best?  Really?!

The t-shirts are ok.  For sitting in the pub.

Then pannier bags are very, well, pretty. Practical too.

The poncho.  Just plain wrong.  Who on earth would be seen alive wearing that?

The Knog mitts, the only part of the gallery I agreed with, having had a look at them myself in the past.

But please, a ‘reflective sailor bib’.  £72 for a reflective sailor bib, which will probably only look trendy (to some) for a week.  Honestly.  And we’re supposed to be trying to make more women cycle.  Not less. 

The emphasis of the whole article is wrong.  This is certainly not the best women’s cycling gear.  It’s an expensive collection of some of the worst.  It makes me wonder if the Guardian actually looked at the more mainstream women’s gear out there on the market, saw how poor the offering was, and so decided to publish a gallery of g ear that very few people would actually be able or even want to buy.

The Guardian has failed to address the problem that is women’s cycling gear, with its pastel colours, flower patterns, poor cuts and sizing, when it could have tried to find the best of the women’s gear currently out on the market, such as my favourite brand of shorts, Pearl Izumi.  They could have even satisfied those with money to throw around and they could have featured the Rapha women’s range. 

The Guardian also did not try to present any gear from a practical perspective.  Ok, maybe not all girls want to go around wearing thin lycra.  So there are plenty of trouser options.

The way to make more girls cycle is to make them feel comfortable with what they're wearing on the bike.

So come on Guardian – give us a gallery of women’s cycle gear that is affordable, practical, and that every girl across the country would wear, not just a minority of ladies in London.

And if you can’t find that gear…then make sure you let the manufacturers know – you have a voice and some weight in this battle.

Photo by PR on the Guardian website

I'm someone who will have a go at fixing most mechanical things on my bike and have changed sprokets, bar tape and am quite an expert in inner tube changing.  However my big problem is cables.  Yes, I realise that this of course covers about 50% of all possible bike problems, meaning gears and brakes.

Unfortunately, I've found that this part of bike maintenance isn't really covered by the Haynes Bike Manual (nor the 'other' one I have - it doesn't have as many pictures).  One day I'll get round to going on a short course to show me the basics.  In the mean time I have to rely on the local workshop to sort out any gear woes I may have, and these seem occur regularly.  I would love to know what I'm doing to the gears for them to need attention so often.

However there is a big problem at the moment.  A good problem, but a pain in the arse for me.  Cycling has taken off in London. Fabulous. But what this means is that I can no longer call into my trusty workshop at Cycle Surgery on Great Portland Street on a Monday morning with a view of dropping the bike off a few minutes later for it to be fixed by the end of the working day. In fact, there is a two week wait for the next slot.

With grating gears and a chain that kept dropping off when I shifted from 9 to 18 action was required.  It was at this point that I remembered about a post on London Cyclist blog, about mobile bike repair.

Looking at the different options, I decided to give BikeAde a call to see if they could come and help.  He came that afternoon to work, and called me when he was outside my office.  Bascially they work by cycling round with a trailer attached to the back of the bike that contains all their tools.  There outside work, he indexed my gears, adjusted my rear derailleur, sorted my gears out and applied oil to all the relevant bits on the bike, and gave it a little test run, and all for the fraction of the price of going to a workshop instore.

Brilliant, efficient and quick service, that comes to your door (work or home) and is very reasonably priced too.  If you're in London and need some bike first aid, give BikeAde a whirl.

Titanium.  Carbon.  Titanium and carbon.  Steel.  Boron.  Ok, I’m joking with the last one – although not if we were to bring Reynolds RZR wheels into the equation…

I have a number of decisions to make with this dream bike build.  The first two of those are which material I want to be riding, and which builder I want to build it.  Builders like Independent Fabrications (IF), Serotta and Seven make my life a little easier by offering bikes made of Ti, carbon, Ti & carbon and – for Indy Fab at least – steel.  But I also dream of owning a bike by the likes of Parlee (who only work with carbon) and Pegoretti (who only works with steel), and I simply cannot dismiss Moots or Baum (only Ti).

And for now that’s essentially my shortlist.  IF, Parlee, Pegoretti, Moots and Baum.  Yes, I know I mentioned Serotta and Seven, but there’s already too many of them in London (and more specifically too many just within London Dynamo) even if I were to make mine entirely my own.  Besides which Serotta are just obscene prices, and I don’t really like the Seven website (I used to be a graphic designer – put me off with bad basic design and you’ve lost me right at the start).

Independent Fabrications have always been a favourite – the XS particularly.  I was ready to go ahead with a fitting and place an order on one with Barry at Bespoke late last year.  I probably wound Barry up no end with question after question, swiftly followed by having a panic and bailing on the whole thing.  I’m yet to contact Barry just in case I do it again, but this time around I know much more about what works for me so if I do decide to go with IF I won’t cock him about.  The XS is a combination of Ti and carbon and looks divine.  Again though, to make it more my own if I went with the XS I’d want the carbon back end to be made in Ti.  But then there’s also their SSR (953 steel) and Corvid (all carbon) frames to consider so they’re not making it easy for me.

The Parlee Z1 was the first bike that came to mind when I realised my dream build was a reality.  They’re probably one of the most desirable bikes on the market at the moment, and the prices aren’t quite as obscene as the Serotta Meivici (although they’re not far off, that’s for sure).  To make it a little more individual I’d probably choose to have an integrated seatpost (I know it has zero performance or weight benefit – it’s purely about ‘making it mine’).  But do I really want a carbon bike?  Is carbon really a long term dream machine?  I’m beginning to doubt as much.  Doubt is bad…  But it is the one I keep coming back to.

To own a Pegoretti would be a dream, especially to get a custom before Dario Pegoretti hangs up his welding torch.  I need to ‘gen up’ on Dario’s current situation with regard to the timescales for a custom frame, but I’ve got a feeling I’ll be too impatient to wait long enough – and that’s even if he is still accepting custom orders.  The Responsorium would be the weapon of choice, made from Columbus XCr which is their equivalent of Reynolds' 953 stainless steel.  They don’t half paint them lairy though!

Moots are another perennial favourite carried over from my mountain biking days.  This year they released their latest weapon, the RSL.  Pics from trade shows displayed it with specific cable routing for Shimano Di2 which makes it an ideal proposition given that it’s my first choice groupset.  The standard geometry probably wouldn’t work for me though so I’ll need to check out their custom options on this frame – if it’s a no-go then Moots are probably off the table as I’d be settling for one of their older models, which just doesn’t feel right for a dream machine.

And then there's Baum - the outsider, the underdog, the new boy, especially in this company.  But that's part of the draw.  That, and the fact that he happens to build some awesome looking bikes.  On their top line Correto an integrated seatpost is an option for a bit of individuality, as is BB30 for a spot of 'is it or is it not better' debate (and funky chainset choice).  It might also blend in nicely as a part of my Christmas visit to Oz which could be neatly tied up with a trip to Steve Hogg for a final pre-order measure up.  Sorry Wendy...!

But which material do I most want to ride?  Perhaps that's one for Episode 2...

For those who follow me on Twitter you will by now be aware of the fact that I have arrived in a position whereby I can finally and whole-heartedly kick off my dream bike build.  Just in case my tweets weren’t going to bore you enough I’ve decided to diarise events leading up to this.

As such, I welcome you all to ‘Lugs to Lightweights’.

Why the name?  Well, it was spawned by a reply to a tweet by one of my followers who suggested some lugged steel frames I should look at – after a spot of banter I retorted something along the lines of “lugs and Lightweights don’t match”.  That was enough to trigger the idea, and now here we are.

I won’t trawl on too much as issue 1 will be along later today (most likely), and my current excessive Brain Fart activity will be spouted in that.  For now what I will say is please do comment, reply, give me your suggestions, recommend frame builders and components – I’m interested to know everything about what’s out there, I want to know what’s going on and I want to make my decision having fully understood that it’s definitely, completely, totally what I want.  I don’t want to place an order only to find out the next day that there’s something better out there.

Likewise, if you see me choosing something that really doesn’t sit well with you for some reason please tell me what you think and why – sometimes my rationale is limited to say the least, so if you can give me justification to look elsewhere then I’d love to hear it.

I’m excited.  Too excited.  Many of you will fear for Wendy – the poor girl has already had to put up with a lot.  If she gets through this little episode then she truly is a saint!  It’s going to be fun though, and regardless of how much she suffers I know she’ll love seeing the excitement on my face when it all comes together.

By the way though, do feel free to tell me to shut up…