onionbagblog

To the kayak! …on Tuesday afternoon. This was the first paddle of the season for me. Blue skies and a bloody big high tide were my calling card to make my way down to the Sailing Club.

Oh hang on - it’s a bit windy, isn’t it? I did check on the high water time, but overlooked the incoming sea breeze. I’m not cut out for a life at sea. Hey hoe.

I thought it would have been borderline wind for the rowing club to launch. But there they were, a full crew all set to make their way upstream.

My instinct was to follow theirs. It looked a little choppy out in the estuary. It’s best to stay safe with a leisurely paddle out towards Rowhedge and Windy Corner, and then back to base.

I soon found my rhythm and stride. All internal thoughts were lost. I was alone in the water with the sun on my face. Don’t be such a dick, Jase. But yeah, it was that kind of afternoon.

Without really giving it too much thought, soon I was way past Rowhedge, and blimey, I’m down at the muddy banks of the Hythe. This was proving to be something of an EPIC row. I do like over exaggerate.

I took a while to take in my surroundings. The trees in the distance by Wivenhoe Wood are still looking a little naked. You can just about see green spring growth trying to break through. But the lush green canopy has yet to appear.

The return back to the Sailing Club was hard work. Time and tide, etc. I misjudged both. And the bloody wind. I was against the still incoming tide, and the wind around Windy Corner was trying to blow me back towards the Hythe.

A decent row - just under 7km.

Nine Below Zero’s Live at the Marquee debut, doubled up with Don’t Point Your Finger. It’s quite a statement to launch a live album as your debut, But Nine Below Zero were - and still are - a working band. You can almost hear the sweat seeping off the walls of the old Marque.

I’ve always had Nine Below Zero down as a horrid New British Metal band. How wrong I was. They broke through a year or two early for me to pick up on them.

The sound has more of a high energy mod rhythm, with the blues breaking through. It’s a brilliant English mismatch of style fusing together, aka a right old racket.

Live at the Marquee is great fun, from start to finish.

The left without class has failed – what comes next?

via Morning Star

I had to cycle off to see a woman about a hammock over in Great Bentley. It seemed like the perfect excuse to factor in a Bank Holiday bicycle ride around the Peninsular Loops circuit. Chapeau!

Operation Drop Off Hammock went smooth. A hammock was welly and truly dropped off. I hope it finds itself a happy new home. I never really did get my head - or body - around the art of dozing off and doing bugger all whilst being suspended above the lawn.

But anyway. About the Bank Holiday bicycle ride. The Union flags are still flying around the lampposts of Ainger’s Green. It’s an odd choice, for sure. Are you thinking what I’m thinking, etc? Whenever I see someone flying a Union flag, I want to congratulate them on embracing the inclusiveness of our bond across the nations. I don’t think I would get the response I would want over in Ainger’s Green.

My mind turned to more enjoyable matters as I reached the empty lanes. It wasn’t quite shorts weather, but it did feel like the first day of the cycling summer season. The freshly ploughed fields were all set for their first crops to be planted. As ever I was enthused to see the OCD approach to ploughing. That’s a job that I could do. Yep.

Things went a little downhill with four arsehole close passes. No worries, I’ve got you caught on camera, fellas. And soon Essex Police will as well. SHOUT OUT to the stunning pheasant that also close passed me. I don’t think Essex Police are interested in your chaotic approach to crossing a road.

I brought forward the annual diary date for the Weird Wiv bluebell walk for this year. I am a man of routine, but I am also out of sync with my bluebell calendar. In previous years I’ve gone exploring deep into Wivenhoe Woods early May. I usually hit jackpot with the carpets of bluebells, but they are often on the wain. Hey! Let’s fast forward a month.

There was a beautiful Bank Holiday blue sky early morning. Have sun rays, have flowering bluebells. Or so the theory goes. My man of routine persona even allowed me to deviate from the usual Wivenhoe Wood walking path. Phew. LIVE dangerously Jase, etc. I was rewarded by finding some new stretches of the bluebell coverings that my camera hasn’t troubled in previous years.

I chose to snap away using the very old Nikon D60. This is usually the camera that I reach for whenever I’m snapping away at live sport. It has a great shutter speed action, but is a little big and clumsy when it comes to bending down and trying to be agile whilst out in the field - or even the bluebell wood. The results were so so, but not quite the quality that I craved.

The bluebells didn’t disappoint, obvs. We weren’t alone in taking in the stench of the flowers waking up early morning. It was a little over-powering. For once I had a little time to keep on wandering, finding further new paths to explore.

The crazy world of rock ‘n’ roll, etc. It’s come to this.

The list of influences for Gaelle on the wiki page was impressive - Cocteau’s, Prince, Trevor Horn. My kinda girl, I thought. Sadly I heard none of the above throughout the album. It’s pleasant enough as the chords sweep over you. She’s got a half decent voice to match. But sadly not for me.

⭐ ⭐

Birdhouse In Your Soul is brilliant, but it also kinda gets on yet tits. A bit like much of this album tbh. It’s US college goof. I wonder if the Americans view Ian Dury through a similar cultural lens?

⭐ ⭐

“I fear that the art of building dams in the woods is just another of those important artisanal professions that die out due to ’the internet’. Perhaps I’ll host a £450 day-long course in the skill, and I’ll rejoice in the fact that Woody Guthrie wrote me a song about my exploits.”

via Caught by the River

A return to rolling out with the Colchester Cycle UK crowd early on Sunday morning. Woh - I’ve missed those guys. It’s been a few years since I’ve managed any consistent run of Sunday cycling club runs. Work has got in the way, meaning that I’ve missed out on the weekly rides to Gawd Knows Where.

I did check the route briefly before the 8:45am Leisure World meet up. Assington was the first coffee point check. Nope, me neither.

We had a vicious head wind once we had left Britain’s Oldest recorded; actually we had a vicious tail wind and a vicious cross wind. The arse end of Storm Dave was blowing out around the fringes of Sunny Colch.

Runners and riders were everywhere. We also came across a number of cycle tourists, with their impressive bar and frame bags as they made their way around the lanes.

I stuck close to the ride leader. I even picked up some new hand signals. We’re not talking the five-fingered shuffle, although the cyclist hand gesture for gravel ahead did have me giggling to myself.

The Barn at Assington was reached. Morning coffee was taken as we met up with some other riders. There was little appetite, so to speak, for a continuation on to a luncheon venue. A new route was plotted back to Sunny Colch.

Chapeau!

Part Two of the Community Day double header at the Essex Sports Arena saw London Cavaliers rock up to tip off against the Rebs. This season has been something of a struggle for the men. The team has shown promise in some games, but then struggled in others. This was the final home game of the season, with the Rebs never really threatening the play-offs.

This didn’t mean that the Our House atmosphere could take a night off. Big Dog Ballin' was in fine form ahead of tip off, dropping some absolute bangers including Arrested Development, old school Public Enemy and even some Dre.

There was a new Queen B mascot in town as well. The clue was in the slightly different body moves as each old time anthem was blasted out around the Arena.

The first quarter was low scoring. The initial atmosphere then went a little flat. Rebs trailed 21-17 at the first buzzer.

A tight second quarter followed, with Rebs still staying afloat in the game. They took a 36-34 lead into the break.

This was our signal to play musical chairs. I’m all for enthusiasm, but the little ankle biter sitting right behind us was screaming into my ear at every opportunity. No ta, mate.

Neither team looked like they wanted to take control in the third, with the scoreboard showing 54-53. Cavaliers then decided to put their foot down, and punish the Rebs for having a short bench. The final score of 59-75 felt harsh.

And so another season is over for the men at the Sport Arena. It’s been good to watch, but the team has a tendency to tire as the game progresses. Injuries have not been kind. It will be interesting to see what the roster is when we return in six months time.

Up the Rebs!