JEREMY AND ERIC RIDE 
TOUR AOTEAROA*

*on Raleigh 20s.
A Raleigh Rally, if you will.

because why wouldn't you? New Zealand is so little and Raleigh 20's are known for their all terrain capability, their craftsmanship and their copious amount of luggage carrying capacity ..

 

ABOUT US

We’re two friends who have worked together and ridden mountain bikes together for a number of years.

Without any particular experience in endurance events or very much forethought, with a relaxed training regime and a lot of optimism, we’re riding the Tour Aotearoa on our Raleigh 20 bicycles.
But aren’t they kids bikes, you ask? Well, umm .. who knows, really. (We'll keep you posted ..!)

​Starting at Cape Reinga at 7am on 17 Feb, we aim to make our way 3000km all the way south to Bluff without breaking down emotionally, physically, or mechanically. (We're on the road now, you can track where we are here!)

We’re raising money for Christchurch City Mission, a charity that does incredible work for underprivileged people in Christchurch. If you’d like to support us and make our insanity worthwhile, please give generously to City Mission here.

Thanks to those who have helped make this possible- our families for tolerating our silliness, Bevan at Frontal Lobe for helping with set up, our employers for allowing us time off but who probably won’t miss us, and you, for reading this blog.

 
 
 
 
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Story time: a cautionary tale

PREFACE: Jeremy and I have raced our Raleigh 20’s at the McLeans 6-hour Mountain Bike Race a number of times now and one of those years, we won Best Dressed, receiving a free pair of Merrell shoes each. Woo!


Which reminds me of a true story* I heard once ..


The real-deal vintage styling from the wardrobes of our grandfathers - RIP 70's racing bloke style.

This was not a winning costume. Going to be honest, these suits were not high quality.

*Names have been changed to protect the identities of the parties.

A friend of mine (let’s call him "Reverend Green") has a friend (let’s call him "Colonel Mustard") who has recently built a new house on a rear section in Christchurch. It has a very nice new asphalt driveway. Colonel Mustard had been working out of town for six weeks, and one weekend he was back in Christchurch for a couple of days. Reverend Green picked him up from the airport, and dropped him off at his house to pick up his motorbike so he had transport for the weekend. Colonel Mustard is a keen motorcyclist and owns a big Yamaha 1200cc touring bike. (Specs for those who are interested: 1200cc producing 130 HP (or about the same power output as a Toyota Corolla), weighing 260kg, and with a reputation for producing significant torque in the low rev range.)

Colonel Mustard tried to start the bike, but having been sitting idle for 6 weeks, the battery was flat. So Colonel Mustard and Reverend Green decided to push start it down the new asphalt driveway. Colonel Mustard took the handlebars, pulling the clutch in with one hand, and taking hold of the throttle with the other, and began pushing from beside the bike. Reverend Green took hold of the rear of the bike, and, keeping downward pressure on the rear wheel so that it didn’t skid when the clutch was let out, also began pushing. Together, they quickly gained enough speed and Colonel Mustard let the clutch out. To their surprise, the engine (and 130 horsepower’s worth of low end torque) started immediately. This then kicked off a slightly unfortunate chain of events.

The bike immediately began accelerating. Colonel Mustard, not being astride the bike, and having a large bike accelerating away from him, could not reach the clutch lever. The rapidly speeding bike (now with the front wheel well in the air) wound his throttle hand the wrong way, further increasing 130 horsepower’s worth of acceleration, as 260 kg worth of motorcycle rapidly made its way down the new asphalt driveway.

As a bike accelerated, Reverend Green, applying downward pressure, suddenly found his body position change from being upright, into more of a ‘superman’ style posture. Reverend Green, who happened to be wearing a brand new pair of Merrell shoes, suddenly found the new asphalt driveway grinding holes in the tops of his new shoes. As the bike accelerated and the front wheel went further into the air his body progressively became more horizontal, and his knee length shorts then came into contact with the driveway. These shorts and the undergarments beneath both had elasticated waist bands. Upon contact with the driveway, the elastic stretched, and the garments rapidly made their way down Reverend Green’s legs, resulting in a distinct lack of fabric protection for some of the sensitive parts of Reverend Green’s anatomy. This, combined with the abrasive nature of the new asphalt driveway, resulted in yet more grazing of the skin of poor Reverend Green.

During this unfortunate sequence of events, both Reverend Green and Colonel Mustard realised they had some decisions to make, namely whether to keep holding on or not. Upon the removal of his trousers and subsequent body contact with the asphalt, Reverend Green made the wise decision to let go. About the same time, Colonel Mustard made the same decision.

The speeding bike briefly stayed upright, then crashed to one side, sliding along, destroying the plastic farings, breaking the lights, and scraping the side of the bike along the driveway. The elderly neighbour, hearing the commotion, raised his head over the fence to see what was going on. He was greeted with an unexpected sight: a smashed motorbike lying at the end of a trail of scrapes and broken pieces, and two injured men, lying face down on the driveway, groaning in pain, one without any trousers on.

Slightly off topic, but I still enjoy wearing the Merrell shoes I won at the bike race. I never saw Jeremy wear his though.


Frankly, the least of his concerns.

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