onionbagblog

And so I finally got round to road testing the new iScooter U4 that arrived on Wednesday. Having spent a couple of hours setting it up with the various extra build that was required, I was a little unsure that my mechanical skills would allow me a safe passage.

It pissed it down in the Estuary Wilds yesterday. It wasn’t exactly great conditions for road testing a new electric bike. I had bright sunshine early in the evening on Friday. This was perfect to go rolling out. Chapeau!

First thoughts: Woh! This is a bloody heavy beast of a bike. I kinda knew that anyway. The specs say 26 kg. The Raleigh electrics with their big wheels are only slightly heavier at 27 kg. Side by side they look like a boxing mismatch between a heavyweight and a featherweight, except the featherweight is something of a lard arse.

I experimented with the various assist modes as I made my way out of town, past the university and down to the Hythe. My first thoughts are that assist mode 1 and 2 are pants. I couldn’t feel any extra boost. I’m not entirely convinced that there isn’t an issue with the bike.

But switch up to assist mode 3 and shit the bed! Here’s where the real pace kicks in. The only issue is that it’s a single-speed bike and it’s difficult to keep up with a pedalling pace when you reach the top speed, which is capped at 25 km/h.

I did fit the throttle to the bike. This opens up a whole new world. I climbed up Boundary Road without pedalling in throttle mode only.

It always takes a while to get used to any new bicycle set-up. The iScooter U4 may be something of a steep learning curve.

From the test ride my observations are that this is basically a slightly inferior moped. Once you get over the shame of using the throttle and not pedalling, it could actually be a very decent run around for trips in and out of town.

A pair of panniers also arrived this morning. They have been fitted and fit perfectly. I think I need to view this bike as purely an A to B for short distances with panniers packed up with cheapo Lidl booze.

I was later than I usually like to be for a bit of a Weird Wid Waddle on Friday afternoon. Usually if it’s past midday then I can’t be arsed to run. Various other commitments kept me away from pounding the mean streets of C07 a little earlier.

It wasn’t quite Mad Dog’s and Englishman weather, but the Estuary Wild’s rays were starting to heat up. I was a little restricted in trying to pick up the pace and clock a new PB. I wasn’t wearing my fancy Lidl carbon trainers.

It all felt good with regards to my on-off injury. I think the ridiculous high compression running socks are actually working. I’m threatening a return to park run in the morning.

To the Table of Dreams!… on Friday lunchtime. This was an afternoon for playing with the extra heavy wind ball. The only problem was that the wind ball got lost somewhere around the back of a Lambeth estate sometime last weekend whilst we were on the piss at the cricket.

New balls please.

Thankfully we managed to rustle up a spare wind ball; it was most definitely needed.

I was also PONCING around wearing a pair of new cycling specs. I don’t think there is such an item as table tennis specs. As ever I looked the absolute bollocks.

Something I kept quiet in the fashion stakes was my iPhone stashed away down the side of my Y-fronts. I forgot my Apple Watch so I couldn’t strava the session. My shorts had no pockets. I really can’t stand playing table tennis to be honest; I only play so I can strava it. The iPhone down the pants it was, needs must.

Some of the scoring went a little wonky. We lost track as to who should be serving and when we were changing serves. There was one particular epic game that went to 16-14, with two clear points needed ahead of the usual 11 points that gets you over the line.

Rather worryingly a drone circled overhead throughout the game. I fear it was some local snooper wanting to dob me in for stashing an iPhone down my Y-fronts.

I walked away having lost 3-1. There’s no shame in that. There’s no shame in putting an iPhone down your pants.

And so Forest have turned down a second bid from Manchester City for Elliot Anderson worth 120 million pounds. That surprised me on two fronts:

First, the absolute fuck off size of the bid. Blimey. So we’re turning down 120 million pounds? That’s phenomenal but I’m here for it.

The second surprise was that we even had the balls to say no once again. At the end of the day we always win, etc.

I can’t see the Anderson outcome being the same as MGW last season. I think most Forest fans are resigned to losing the England star, and probably sooner rather than later.

But still, 120 million pounds, shit, that’s crazy money. It shows the scale at which Forest have shifted in the past five years from being Championship fodder to producing and fighting to hold on to world-class players.

It’s a win-win situation for Forest. I really can’t see us keeping Anderson, especially after what is expected to be a dazzling World Cup for him. If we do have to say farewell to the Geordie Maradona then we will certainly get a large payday coming out of it.

If by some miracle the Big Fat Greek manages to keep Anderson at the World Famous, then next season just got a whole lot more interesting.

I still expect a deal to be done with Man City before England’s first competitive game of the World Cup. Man City and the player himself won’t want this hanging over the rest of the tournament.

But the question is how high do Man City go in order to get their man?

A very wet run in the Weird Wiv rain on Thursday morning. I do like my alliteration. Maybe I could fiddle with Strava and make it a very wet run in the Weird Wiv rain on Wednesday.

I was free at 11:00 am. The drizzle started at 11:05 am. By the time I’d got my arse in gear at 11:10 am, the drizzle had become something a little more substantial. The very clever weather app, that is often quite stupid, tells me the situation wasn’t going to improve. Just bloody do it, etc.

Once I was out there it was so-so. I’m trying to make the most of running whilst fitness and ink commitments allow me. I’m anticipating a two-month layoff due to more vanity ink-induced body modifications coming up. The two-month break will actually be quite useful in terms of my on-off hypochondriac calf injury.

I headed toward the top of the town and then back down towards the quayside. It was most grey out along the estuary. No one else was making the most of the light drizzle.

I had a few lace malfunctions for the final stretch. Arse. That really pissed me off. I never like stopping whilst I’m out running.

Run to live, live to run, but not whilst the vanity ink is healing.

I love a slide up and down the blues scale. This feels authentic, and not laboured. The standard of playing is superb. I always find that the blues is all about the mood, and not necessarily the song. They’re just the means in which to hang your emotions. It gets a little guitar wanky in places. Yeah fella, sure you can play. Just play the blues. It’s not a job interview.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

“The Starmer Labour leadership has banned Labour councillors from cooperating with the Greens. Even without that, Lambeth’s ultra-Blairite-controlled Labour group were unlikely to collaborate with Lambeth’s leftish Greens.”

via Worker’s Liberty

The Prime Minister’s estate at Chequers and the footpath that wouldn’t die

via IanVisits

Omar Richards remains a Nottingham Forest player. Despite not playing a game for the club

BONKERS

Drivers kill five people every day. Cyclists hardly kill anybody

via road.cc

A late call-up to add an extra element of muscle for a Wiv Gigs social row on Thursday evening. Ten minutes before leaving the house and it was pissing it down with rain. The bloody Estuary Wilds weather wasn’t looking great. I dithered. I dithered for perhaps a little too long.

I finally made my move and made the short walk down to the Sailing Club. I was, of course, the last crew member to arrive, causing a little confusion. Apologies, Comrades.

It wasn’t all bad news with the bloody Estuary Wilds weather. The rain had subsided slightly and the sun was trying to make an appearance later in the day. My understanding of meteorological conditions isn’t great. But I do know that sun and the rain leads to a rainbow - or even a Madness single.

This was no time for skanking. We had two boats to launch. I headed off down the hard with Varuna. I had already christened this boat the relegation boat, with two West Ham crew members on board. Chances are that it might sink.

I was about to go on board when out came a call for a crew swap. I was seconded to sit in the first bow of Audacity. Extra bonus point as this particular seat in the boat gets to use the brand new oar.

We had a smooth launch. Soon we were heading downstream with the sun in our faces. All crew members had made the basic error of not bringing out the shades.

This was always going to be a short row. Time and tide wasn’t on our side.

We weren’t alone in making the most of the extra light as we approach the Solstice. We passed Defiance who looked at us as though they were all set for a training row.

We had a quick and economical turnaround at Buoy 28. The reflections in the water looked quite stunning. The WOD’s had their candy box cuteness with all the radiant colours on show.

We were a little ahead of time and so took in a brief detour upstream towards Rowhedge. A lone fisherman was dangling his long rod over the Wivenhoe Jetty.

Some pontoon training took place as we had a cox about to be signed off to go solo. Pontoon training is nothing like potty training, although it can get messy. Two successful deckings at the Rowhedge and Wivenhoe public pontoons were ticked off.

The lone cuckoo in Wivenhoe Wood was making a right old racket. I was more concerned about what was to come with the Wednesday evening bloody church bell practise. We recovered and I made it back to base in time before the onslaught.

And so New Bike Day arrived. New Bike Day is the best day.

It was perfect weather conditions for a New Bike Say as well. That’s perfect weather conditions if you don’t plan to ride the New Bike.

It was ideal in that I had to stay in waiting for Mr Delivery Man. He came during a torrential downpour. Now would be a good time to unpack and start to build.

Oh dear. Here’s where the fun starts. I was aware that my purchase of an iScooter U4 didn’t come completely assembled. I have zero mechanical bike skills. All I needed was a clear head, a cup of tea, and an extra strong pair of reading glasses.

Around two hours later I finally emerged triumphant. It wasn’t that technical but if you get the odd slight thing wrong here and there, you could find yourself descending at 40 kmh and something falls off that shouldn’t be falling off.

The first thing I did was to take out the battery and charge it. It was already fully charged. That was a good sign.

Next up was the bike stem. That was simple enough. The most tricky part was attaching the new front wheel and getting it aligned correctly with the disc brakes. I surprised myself at the ease in which I achieved this.

I fiddled around getting the OCD perfection of the bike bell and the throttle installed exactly where I want them. The finishing touch was the seat and the pedals. They were a piece of piss to be honest.

Now I’ve got a fully assembled New Bike. It looks the absolute bollocks. I’m not sure how it will ride but that’s not really the point, as long as it looks good.

Chapeau!

Talk Talk, It’s My Life.

There was so much quality music that I missed out on in the late 80s going into the early 90s. I had been blinded by indie and chose such a narrow musical path to explore.

Of course I was always aware of tracks like It’s My Life through the constant radio airplay, but I never really dived further into their album back catalogues. This would come in later years, hiring out CDs for the local library and recording them onto a TDK D90.

I’ve still got The Colour Of Spring and Spirit Of Eden on cassette, filed away. I’ve also obviously upgraded to CD versions. By this time I was becoming more of a musical snob.

That’s not to say that you need to be a wanky musical snob to appreciate Talk Talk. It’s My Life is a great transition album; it captures them still with a little pop sensitivity as they then embark on all the weirdness that was to follow.

I realised It’s My Life was lacking from my CD collection after a recent Word In Your Ear podcast. The guest was an author who had written a biography all about the band.

I always thought Talk Talk was a crappy name for such a quality band. It’s a shame it got hijacked by a stupid mobile provider.