Mrs Miles solves all your problems

[Jaded]

I believe the producer felt a bit flush and splashed out on some new stars.

[Bledlow]

Prematurely as usual, if what I have heard is correct.

[Bledlow]

Dear Mrs Miles,

I have heard whispered rumours of something called a "Loke" or "Lowk" in or near Dorset. I have been unable to ascertain exactly what the nature of this thing is, due to the extreme reluctance of any of my interlocutors to answer my questions about it. Indeed, they sometimes start shaking, & a few have whimpered "the coast, the coast".

Can you explain what a "Loke" is, & why it causes such fear?

Yours,

Puzzled

[Mr Larrington]

Can you explain what a "Loke" is, & why it causes such fear?

It do be big, an' black, an' 'airy, an' I do be afraid of it.

Something to do with eyebrows.

[Ian H]

Can you explain what a "Loke" is, & why it causes such fear?

It do be big, an' black, an' 'airy, an' I do be afraid of it.

Something to do with eyebrows.

It's an offshoot of 'Shaw' as I recall.

[Bledlow]

Dear Mrs. Miles,

I'm sorry to bother you again so soon, but I am rather perturbed by the strange behaviour of some young women.

I have long been keen on Brooks (& to a lesser extent, other) leather saddles. There is something about the deep glossy sheen & the firmness of a good leather saddle which appeals to me. They are akin to fine brogues, or strong leather belts, & the leather has a fine manly smell to it. Accordingly, I often pause to admire Brooks saddles when I see them on cycles, but this has, on occasion, led to disconcerting & unseemly displays by their owners. Can you tell me why an otherwise apparently pleasant & sane young woman would shout "Get your nose away from my saddle, you filthy pervert"? I am at a loss to explain it.

Yours, etc.

Worried of Weading.

PS. While we're on the topic of leather, can you suggest additional uses for leather toe-straps? I've given up trying to find a way of using them with SPD pedals, & having to reduce the number of them on my bicycles is causing me some distress.

[Zoidburg]

Dear Mrs Miles

I am in social quandry

Of late I have been sorely tempted to enter into a torrid afair of the flesh with a fellow cyclist of the fairer sex, even though it could bring the sport into disrepute I seem unable to shake the idea from my head.

Do you know of anyone who has ever been tempted in a similar manner?

Preferably a young lady aged 25-35 with a burlesque figure and dress sense.

ZB.

[hellymedic]

Zoiders, you would be very lucky; there are at least as 10 times as many men as women in AUK, many women are 'spoken for' and the luky ones take their pick of the best AUKs early in their Audaxing career...

[Eccentrica Gallumbits]

*too old*

[Zoidburg]

*too old*

*flexable on the age thing*

[Eccentrica Gallumbits]

*gets coatcorset, has pulled*

[Julian]

Dear Mrs. Miles,

I'm afraid that having slated a cycling favourite, the Greasy Pole Cafe, the rest of the audaxing community may have sent me to Coventry (metaphorically, that is, not with the aid of a routesheet).

My question is, given that a silent stare is also a form of friendly greeting, how will I know? 

Yours etc.,

[Jaded]

Dear Mrs Miles,

"Have you come far?"

What would you recommend as an answer to this question from a friendly pedestrian. I do not carry a defibrillator.

Thank you.

[ludwig]

Dear mrs miles. please can you help. I think that my girlfriend is about to leave me. She says that I am much to quick for her and she says that she only gets satisfaction from a long slow ride. I don't understand it as she is not even into cycling. I also caught her describing another man that she met at her scuba diving club to her friend. She was saying that he goes down for ages. Should I try to compete with this underwater casinova or just give up.

yours worried of Chipping Sodbury

[vorsprung]

Dear Mrs Miles,

"Have you come far?"

What would you recommend as an answer to this question from a friendly pedestrian. I do not carry a defibrillator.

Thank you.

Mrs Miles.
I would also appreciate guidance in this area.  Usually I say "not really" and change the subject or say the last, nearest place I've been through.  I think a more honest answer would be better however.

[clarion]

Dear Mrs Miles

Now you have been absent for almost a week, I am inclined to ponder the gaping hole opening up.  I imagine you have gone from these shores for foreign parts, in the safe hands of a young local guide who is showing you the way.

I hope your adventure, full of little high points, soon comes to a climax, and you will return to take us in hand and service our needs in the matters covered in this thread.

Yours wistfully

A Rider

[Riggers]

Dear Mrs Miles,

Where the fugging hell are you?! 

Loyal Reader (name and address supplied)

[Zoidburg]

Dear Mrs Miles

Upon passing through Richmond Park this very morning I noticed that the secret sign for "lady cyclist in distress" was carved into a tree.

All is well I trust?

[clarion]

I don't suppose we should worry - I'm sure Mrs Miles could handle whatever comes up.  I'm sure she's slipped her cleats into place, pulled tight her leather straps, put her best rubber to the ground and, perched atop her burnished leather, ridden hard all through the night to get to where she wants to be - out in the woods in the dark, enjoying the animal nature with a group of strangers who will be gone by dawn.  It's good for a gel to push herself to the limits, and overcome.

[Adam]

Dear Mrs Miles.

Having seen the plastic protectors mentioned here, they look totally wrong.  My fruit is straight and long, and I feel it would get bruised trying to bend it, to fit into one of those.

What do you suggest?

[Mrs Miles]

Hello dears.

Bless my old leathery saddle bags, is it really over a week since I put pen to paper?

I am afraid I have been very busy over the last week with the spring fete at the Bulwark Community centre, Pugworth Park Estate. I’ve taken part in the cake and jam competition for the last 25 years but once they knew I’d run the door for 3 years at the Brixton Academy, the fragrant ladies of the WI pleaded with me to handle the site security.

Of course, I couldn’t do this on my own and was ably assisted by my old friends Ifor Previous and Euan Seenme-Wright.  Both are substantially built lads who have seen plenty of action both at home and overseas. In quiet periods, we’d brush up on close-quarters weapon handling techniques (I was shamefully rusty in that department) in the hay bales behind the admissions tent. Happy days, my dears.....

Still, as Ifor says, let’s get stuck in!

[Mrs Miles]

Dear Mrs Miles,

I have tried your suggestion of waxed duck for holding my waterproofs. I am not sure this can be right: it still doesn't want to hold them, and it was showing signs of aggression when I tried to apply more wax. The quacking is starting to upset the neighbours. What am I doing wrong?

Captain Drake RN (retd), Plymouth.

Dear Cap’n Drake.

AHOY THERE!

I see that you are retired from the Senior Service and perhaps this might explain why you seem to have misunderstood my very simple instructions. Has nurse been slipping something extra special into the Ovaltine again?

I was not referring to an actual ‘duck’ but to ‘duck cotton’. This is grown on the underbellies of the famous Norfolk Duck and hand spun into a yarn, rolled on the mottled inner thighs of Fenland women for whom the term ‘bikini line’ holds no allure whatsoever. It is this rolling process that imbues the cotton with its oily residue and tell-tale odour of cigarette ash and stale Mazola.

In the long buildings in villages across the flatlands, this fine yet resilient thread is woven into a material ideally suited to the bump and grime that afflicts a saddlebag throughout its long and eventful life.

But wait, I have missed out the most important transition of all! From the wilds of the Fens, it is sent to the Heart of England to be skilfully crafted by Tracey, Sanjana and Nikita into the superb Winston Bigflaps or the sublime Cannabis Touring.

I urge you to seek this gem of English ingenuity before it is lost forever to the incessant march of man-made fabrics.

Yours in a half-Nelson.


Mrs Miles.

[Mrs Miles]

Dear Mrs. Miles
Should I confess to my wife that I once slept with another man ?......in a bus shelter.

Confess, my dear? I would imagine your dear wife would be happy to know that the sole reason that you have come home with bubblegum stuck in your hair and smelling of old wee is because you have done the sensible thing and taken refuge with another valiant rider from the perils of weariness.

I have to inform you that the inherent danger with this sort of thing is that it is highly addictive. A case in point is Audaxing legend, Jim Spinner, who so enjoys the experience of sleeping in bus shelters that he does so even when not riding an event . This address, given as it was for the return of his Brevet card proves the point:

Mr Jim Spinner
Audaxing Raconteur & Legend
C/o the Driver of the Badger Line Hopper Shopper Bus
Route 2a (Wednesdays to Fridays not including market days)
The Wooden Bus Shelter
Spooners  Bottom
Hants
GU13 2AD.

Jim is free to do as he pleases however your wife might not fancy the idea too much if it is on a permanent basis. Or maybe she will.

Yours in mutual enjoyment of the roadside Pagoda.

Mrs Miles

[Riggers]

Bless me, the old tart's back! 

[Riggers]

… or not.