Fat bikes seem to shout “get me loaded”… And “take me on an expedition”. We only have to follow our hearts, the call of mother nature and the call of our fat bikes.
- Gian Liesch
Now that I’ve been riding around on the Singular Puffin for a couple of months, I thought it was high time for a review. I have been blessed with an amazing playground upon which to give the bike a really good test – from high level rocky routes and wet moorland tracks to man-made rock-strewn built trails in the South Wales valleys. It’s fair to say that the Puffin has stood up easily to everything I’ve thrown it at and any limitations in ability have usually been with the rider.
I was lucky enough to get a ride on a prototype Singular Puffin when I hooked up with Aidan Harding for a ride in the Brecon Beacons recently. My first proper go on a fat bike. The ride was amazing. I was hooked. Then I heard that Sam had just one frame left from his small consignment of prototypes.
I knew just the place for it.
The air was cold rolling down the road out of Tyndrum. The Highland Trail Race was done, but the riding wasn’t over until I’d got myself back to Ewich House. Having the prospect of a bed for the night was useful incentive to finish the race that evening.
I was too late for food in Tyndrum so had to make do with what I had left in my bags and whatever I could scavenge from the car. Half a packet of crisps, two pieces of stale malt loaf, one flapjack and a large supermarket cookie. Not quite the reward I was hoping for, but together with 120g of Torq Recovery powder, it was going to have to do. Continue reading
I woke up with a jolt. I fumbled for my phone, the only means I had of telling the time with my GPS switched off. It was 5:15 am and very light. I got up quickly to see if Mark’s bike was still in the bothy, and it was. I gathered my kit together in a matter of minutes and was on my way by 5:25 am.
Knowing that Mark was a stronger and faster rider than me, I knew that I needed to get a few miles down the road to give myself a cushion for the rest of the race. The only reason I was in this position was because I’d slept less than he had. I’ve just done three of the hardest days riding of my life, covering 530 km, and I now had to race another 160 km to the finish. And I’ve just had 1.5 hours sleep. No pressure. Continue reading
I opened my eyes just enough to assess that it was now daylight and closed them again. The rain pounded on the tin roof of the emergency shelter. I was still on my own, so whoever it was out on the mountain last night, they either stayed in Shenavall or stopped somewhere else. It was 6.30 am. I got up and put my damp cycling clothes back on, and then put my goretex jacket and shorts over the top. My legs weren’t feeling brilliant, but then yesterday was a 194 km day. Maybe they’d loosen up. Continue reading