As the last rays of sunlight retreated over the horizon, the clouds began to assemble en mass. Billowing and bellowing they came, swelling in the sticky summer night like bruises on the face of the sky. The trees sway slowly, barely a breath compelling them to begin with, but oscillating with every increasing urgency at each push. The first drops of rain are beginning to fall, the solitary tears down a cheek before a heart wrenching sob is released by the thunder...
(Photo courtesy of National Geographic)
So what does a strange descriptive piece about a coming storm have in common with a blog about bikes you may ask? Well, first I am going to release my repressed inner meteorology nerd and tell you a bit about storms.
The typical tropical storm begins when warm ocean water heats up and turn to vapour. Rising rapidly from the surface it forms a storm cloud, which is continuously fed by more warm water until it grows in size. It grows and grows and grows, until it interacts with the jet streams and trade winds flying around the earth and, with a bit of help from the Coriolis effect, begins to spin... If all this happens and the water remains hot enough, you get a cyclone (Hurricane for all you North American readers).
Particles of air and water rub together creating huge amounts of friction, sending jagged bolts of lightning through the air. Thunder rolls through the sky and waves assault the shore, causing widespread flooding. And, there's the rain. It never seems to stop. I was dumb enough to sit through the windward arm of one of these storms in a tent once it was even less fun than it sounds), and so I figured it made a good metaphor for where I have been in the last couple of months.
As you may or may not be able to infer, there were times in the last 3 months that were miniature disasters. My Nationals season was one such example. I moved to a new age group, I tried some new stuff, a bit different to what I did last season, and it didn't work out so well. I spent some time travelling and racing with some wonderful people, but unfortunately they were outweighed by a number who I wouldn't mind never seeing again. Unfortunately, Mountain biking is a tight community and one that people do not readily leave, so the latter individuals will be seen around for quite some time yet. But on the flip side, so will those wonderful people I feel privileged to know so I guess it balances out.
I guess it's not so bad though. I had the opportunity to follow the New Zealand National circuit for the first time in my life. I went to Oceanias in Mount Hut to find out what it was like to live life behind the lens instead of out in front, and even tried my hand at making a movie (it failed due to some strange compatibility issues with equipment and a stubbornly laggy laptop...).
I hiked the Milford track in the south island over Christmas, and not only was the track fantastic but I had the pleasure of meeting wonderful people from all around the world there too.
I spent a summer actually doing things with friends for a change instead of just slogging away on my bike; I learnt how to be a normal teenager for a change.
The storm metaphor doesn't stop there in its description of difference and occasional disaster. Storms are full of energy and have the potential to bring about change. Well, I have been buzzing around recently like greased lightning and the winds of change are blowing through my life as I type. I recently started working a bit more closely with NZMTBR magazine, and had a few more bits and pieces published by them. They have taken me on with offers of more writing and reviewing, and are helping me get in touch with dealers and suppliers around the country to take my reviewing to the next level.
So what does this mean for you, dear reader? Well, get ready to see way more product reviews than I have ever done, on a wider range of stuff, and some of it is going to be pretty cool. There will even be some bikes that aren't from Giant! Be prepared for a veritable tsunami of stuff over the next few months; reviews, articles, advice, introspection... the one thing you will not be seeing as much of is race reports.
"Why?" I hear you ask, "race reports are pretty much all you ever do Robin!"
The reason for this is that over the past few months I have come to realise something; race reports are kind of pointless now. I am moving away from the point where my readers are all just club members wanting to know how their mates got on over the weekend. Once upon a time, that's exactly what Turning Pages was; a club notice board written with my perspective on things. With that came a demand for covering every facet of a club; to praise people I might not want to praise, cover races I might not want to cover and behave and write to someone else's rules for fear of petty censorship (a fear that became all too real near the end of last year thanks to other peoples squabbles). I refuse to walk that road any more.
Do not fear, there will still be race reports, but only when I feel they have a story that is worth reading. I will not bore you with constant recounts of riding in circles. That is a promise.
So where does this leave me at the end of a long, disjointed essay of thoughts, feelings and rants? I think what I am trying to say is that I haven't thrown in the metaphorical, sweat stained post race towel just yet. It's always darkest before the dawn, and you cannot know victory until you have tasted defeat. I have had enough losing for a while, and as the storm passes the rays of sunlight from the early dawn are peeking over the trenches of the horizon. It's time I started fighting again.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Turning Pages is back.
-R
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