Alternative Entertainment

There's something remarkably liberating about cycling. Not in the obvious road-movie freedom life on the open road sort of way; the roads are far too dangerous for that and any 1950's rose tinted Enid Blighton tea and cucumber sandwiches with lashings of ginger beer illusion of freedom is likely to end under a Scania. No, its a different form of freedom all together; a freedom from expectation; a freedom from other people's (and here I really mean non-cyclists) expectations of you as a cyclist and, specifically, a mountain biker.

In our motorised world, bikes are either for Meanys, Greenys or those that just haven't quite grown up yet (That'll be me then, and probably you too). Perhaps its because a bike is most people's first experience of personal transport that bikes and bikers seem to be seen as childish things. The stereotypical image of the boy and his bike and the fact that mountain biking's like an extended "dirt is good" Persil ad for overgrown kids who think fast is fun, all reinforce the notion of our sport as pointless, frivolous, foolish and childish; just an activity for mud loving adrenalin junkies.

And lets be honest, the clothing doesn't help; much of its all a bit too grunge yoof surf skate snow board for any self respecting 30 or 40 something to get away with without being either terribly self conscious, or just choosing to forget quite how ridiculous the average slightly overweight middle aged man looks in their Max Wall winter attire of thermal Lycra leggings and winter boots...

If you don't believe me, next time you're out riding and you stop at a cafe or the pub, just take time to notice how the non-cyclists stare at you in open mouthed disbelief for some considerable time after you come in... but don't try this in Leek - they stare at any strangers there, regardless of dress sense.

But this is "A Good Thing" (Not the open mouthed staring in Leek, obviously, that gets a bit tedious after a while; they're just unused to seeing people they're not related to) because now that you're expected to behave like a childish arse, you can and no-one will be disappointed in you; its what they expect.

Now, although I'm fortunate to live on the edge of the Peak District and can ride out from home into stunning countryside and arguably some of England's best riding, I and The White Nancy Boys do, periodically, whinge about doing the same old stuff (Anybody reading this in London and scoffing can get stuffed; if you don't like it, move... but you'll still get bored, eventually, you just won't have to spend all the time you could be riding commuting).

So a few years ago we came up with an alternative approach to riding to add some variety to our riding calendar.

First on the agenda was a Christmas Do - a lavish affair with drinks at The Poachers and curry for 20 plus in the Viceroy followed by the Annual White Nancy Boys Awards Ceremony complete with powerpoint, videos and weird, wacky and down right insulting awards. Nobby still treasures his Beaver on a Plate (it made a beaver noise when you pressed its back and was beautifully mounted... with superglue... on a large, gold plastic plate from TJ Hughes. Class, but Mrs Nobby was never quite so sure...), the Baron loves his gold plated trenching shovel (he's 65; we bought it so when he eventually kicks the bucket we can bury him in a shallow grave and it won't spoil our ride) and I love my Sheriff's Rusty Badge and Crash Test Dummy. Enough Said.

The fact that any foolish behaviour, crashes, crimes and misdemeanors throughout the year will be making a reappearance at Christmas, often on video, just adds a little extra frisson to group rides and keeps us all on our toes.

Naturally, we all have nicknames (The Baron, Big Ring, Flakey, Billy No Mates, Pudding, David Cameron, Harrison Ford, Easter Island 'Ed, Axel, Rolf, Token Toff, Bingo, Big Bird, Little Big Bird, Patsy, Frosty, Nobby etc etc etc) and when someone new rides with us take great delight in waiting for a suitable moment of weakness to find something fitting. Pudding, for example, was once foolish enough to mention that when she was little she used to tell her parents that her lunch box was full but her pudding box was empty. Pudding she is. Another individual was proving tricky; he only rode with us a few times and we'd been discussing possible names for him but nothing seemed right until, right at the end of the ride, he attempted to negotiate an obviously very deep and rocky river ford whilst we more experienced hands watched smugly from the adjacent bridge. He got no more than six feet from the bank before endoing spectacularly and publicly into very deep water... hence Harrison Ford.

Humour is, for many of us, the life blood of riding and the social scene that goes with biking a massive part of its appeal. Given that the mere act of throwing your leg over a bike means people expect you to be childish just gives you free rein to be so...

Between Christmas and New Year we have a fancy dress ride(different theme each year but one year you could have ridden alongside Hitler, Mussolini, Yasser Arafat and Aladdin (for some reason) - all on the same ride, and last year I made a particularly convincing Father Christmas with reindeer, elves and helpers. The Christmas Fancy Dress Karaoke is also a well supported and popular event; you haven't really lived until you've seen a pissed Superman, Batman, Incredible Hulk and James Bond singing Johny Cash's Ring of Fire with great gusto (i.e. badly) to an underwhelmed pub.

Then we have an Easter "Resurrection Ride" (our original fancy dress ideas for this one had to be toned down a bit to avoid being too offensive and besides, no-one wanted to carry the cross), a Druids Ride on the Summer solstice complete with (off)white bed sheets, pub crawl and curry, a summer BBQ and this year for the first time we'll probably be having a Halloween Ride and pub crawl. Notice a bit of a theme developing?

Freed of the expectation to be sensible and mature, we aren't. You shouldn't either; it doesn't always have to be a race and you'll enjoy your riding all the more for it.