« previous next »
Pages: [1]

Author Topic: Cycle posters  (Read 2731 times)

Riggers

  • Mine's a pipe, er… pint!
Cycle posters
« on: 27 September, 2012, 05:02:33 pm »
Nice…



















Logged
Certainly never seen cycling south of Sussex

Exit Stage Left

Re: Cycle posters
« Reply #1 on: 27 September, 2012, 06:55:48 pm »
Given the implication that Popovych was running on Jet Fuel, shouldn't this one be in the 'Bye Lance' thread?

Logged

Snakehips

  • Twixt London and leafy Surrey
Re: Cycle posters
« Reply #2 on: 27 September, 2012, 07:05:10 pm »
Logged
An nescis, mi fili, quantilla prudentia mundus regatur?

mattc

  • n.b. have grown beard since photo taken
    • Didcot Audaxes
Re: Cycle posters
« Reply #3 on: 27 September, 2012, 07:57:47 pm »
Very nice Riggers! I'd have any of those on the garage wall. Actually a mouse mat would be good, my Snowdon Harvey one has cracked clean through Nant-Gwynant ...
Logged
Has never ridden RAAM
---------
No.11  Because of the great host of those who dislike the least appearance of "swank " when they travel the roads and lanes. - From Kuklos' 39 Articles

Basil

  • Um....err......oh bugger!
  • Help me!
Re: Cycle posters
« Reply #4 on: 27 September, 2012, 08:19:49 pm »
Cycling out of Brum


That'll be Primrose Hill then.
Logged
Admission.  I'm actually not that fussed about cake.

Feanor

  • It's mostly downhill from here.
Re: Cycle posters
« Reply #5 on: 27 September, 2012, 08:26:02 pm »
Cripes!
That looks like a fair old climb!

I need to sharpen up my act on the Cairn, and get a shirt, jacket and tie on.
And look as casually relaxed as that bunch on single speed.

R
Logged

Riggers

  • Mine's a pipe, er… pint!
Re: Cycle posters
« Reply #6 on: 24 April, 2014, 12:26:13 pm »
There's more…











Logged
Certainly never seen cycling south of Sussex

Cudzoziemiec

  • Ride adventurously and stop for a brew.
Re: Cycle posters
« Reply #7 on: 24 April, 2014, 12:42:23 pm »
Quote from: Basil on 27 September, 2012, 08:19:49 pm
Cycling out of Brum


That'll be Primrose Hill then.
The road started rising almost immediately outside the factory gates. By mid-morning we had gained several thousand feet and the air was noticeably thinner. We had been climbing for three hours solidly when we broke for tea and Harold estimated, with aid of the trusty Bartholomew's, we were somewhere over the Isle of Sark, but Dorothy was glowing healthily as she tucked into her soft-boiled egg and ginger beer.
Logged
Riding a concrete path through the nebulous and chaotic future.
Pages: [1]
« previous next »