Lockdown Locals Part One.
Unless you have been living in an underground bunker with no access to the outside world for the past month, you might have noticed we are on lockdown. Cafes, restaurants and pubs are closed, along with non-essential shops and businesses, wherever possible people are working from home; the government advice is to stay at home except for shopping and exercise, if you possibly can. The logic behind this is simple, the less you interact with people and the less surfaces you touch, the less chance you have of catching the virus. Plus, less traffic should equal less accidents therefore less pressure on the NHS folks, who are a bit busy with other things at the moment. Although it seems that quieter roads have encouraged more people to drive like dicks, or perhaps they are just more noticeable. The daily exercise quotient is seen by some in the mountain biking world as a ‘loophole’, giving carte blanche to continue their normal routines and pretend there is no crisis, those invincible riders who are too skilled to ever have accidents, sneaking into closed trail centres to ride the old, familiar routes.
There is a No Car, No Gnar, Not Far, campaign in the off road riding world which sums up succinctly what can only be described as best practice, inevitably there are some massive egos to whom such practical advice cannot possibly apply, they will be the ones who will take us down the route of some of the badly-hit continental countries and see cycling prohibited during lockdown. Thankfully, the majority of riders, as far as can be gathered from social media, are sticking to the No Car, No Gnar, Not Far advice, which is great if you live near the moors, it hasn’t rained for weeks, the trails are dry and dusty, enjoy them. Those of us who live a car ride away, or a fifty mile round trip on the bike will devour your pictures like starving waifs looking at a restaurant menu, while we find trails closer to home, exploring lesser known byways in an attempt to distance ourselves from the helmetless hordes of born-again cyclists wobbling along the red tarmac cyclepaths for their daily exercise. People unlucky enough to be on the transplant list will be sitting up and watching with anticipation.
For us Terra Trailblazers, as in normal times, there are enthusiasts and dilettantes, the enthusiasts will ride regardless and the dilettantes can always find an excuse to stay out of the saddle. Myself, usually in the company of La Mujerita, has clocked up quite a few miles this month, The Ginger One and The Breadlad are riding in their own areas, The Breadlad is luckiest because he is close to New Marske woods which he shares with Danny Hart, although not at the same time because The Breadlad doesn’t want to embarrass the world champion. The Ginger One has the misfortune to live in Darlington, which being largely unmodernised since prior to the industrial revolution, does have a lot of surrounding countryside, which he is discovering since the snooker club was forcibly prorogued, sending borderline alcoholics staggering into the outside world, blinking in the unaccustomed daylight. Our Whatsapp group is being used as a platform to share pictures and trade the usual insults, one day I might publish an abridged and heavily censored snapshot of it - or maybe not. Until then you’ll have to make do with some pictures.
Me and La Mujerita.
The Breadlad.
The Ginger One.
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| Playing on the pump track. |
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| The original Stockton and Darlington railway track. |
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| A Roman fort - quite modern for Darlington |
Oz
Oz is taking a more laid back approach.
The Youth.
The Youth, who hasn't ridden for so long he'll need his stabilisers back on when he eventually ventures out again, has gone down the home exercise route.
It looks as though there will definitely be a Lockdown Locals part two and maybe a part three before we get back to normal, harsh but preferable to the alternative. Stay safe.
