Saturday 25 July 2009

Saturday in the cold lands


So much for snow, she writes as she eats marmite on Burgen bread for breakfast, great layers of New Zealand Sanitarium marmite, not that awful English stuff, all grey and slimy, with the winter sun shining brightly through the window warming her through. Add to that a pot, yes an old fashioned pot, of tea to top up her cup from at regular intervals, bliss.

Nick and Courtney headed off to the mountains this morning, minus my camera I just noticed, to go snow boarding. Undeterred by yesterday's death by avalanche and equipped with Tim's gear most of which used to be Kieran's gear, they were very excited at 6.30 to see that it was fine and frosty not the expected cold southerly. I got a text to say they had arrived safely, the bonus of sons having lovely girlfriends is that they now keep in touch a little more.

I offered them my camera as Nick takes great photos and I wanted to get some snow ones to add here. Although I love the snow and enjoy skiing when I get the chance, I'm basically lazy and don't enjoy being cold so sitting in the sun is more my pace today. I will hopefully get out on my new revamped mountain bike today when it's a bit warmer.

Tim's remodelled it for me, made it lighter and therefore faster (yeah right, it's still me on the pedals) and generally made it unbreakable. This was necessary in his eyes because I of course always get him or Muzz to fix my bike and they're both unavailable to me in Al Ain. Mind you I could just wait until either come to visit and hear the exasperated censure "you let it get THAT loose. Didn't you HEAR that grinding sound, it'll have to be replaced now!".

In fact the conversation via Skype about even getting my bike over to me is worth relaying.

Me: Hey Tim. There's some great riding over here. Think I might bring my bike back.

Tim: Silence and a glance at Sarah just out of picture.

Me: Isn't that a great idea? It's warm enough for me to ride year round over here (me renowned for not riding 7 months of the Christchurch year because it's too cold)

Tim: Silence (by now, I am quite bright really, I smelled a rat)

Me: Is there a problem with that Tim?

Tim: Did you hear about.............some gossip not about biking, bikes, mountains or any related topic, people or place.

Me: So, where's my bike then? (I had HIM sussed, I know he loves to swap parts around on the various bikes he has contact with, take the time he had borrowed my peddles, a bit of a surprise when I was all kited out for a ride and he was in Canada).

Tim: (sensing I was not going to be deterred) Hello, are you there still? This is a bad line, I'm having trouble hearing you. Did you say something about a bike? Which one, I've got several? (Very true he has a stable of bikes worth a small fortune, most of which he didn't pay a fortune for. Sponsorship and an understanding wife are wonderful things).

Me: Actually I was talking about my bike, my Scott mountain bike; yellow, black and white in colour; small frame, much like myself; lots of fancy bits. Can't quite remember the model but you know the one?

Tim: Well (a pause and clearing of throat) well actually, I kinda gave some of it to others to use, you weren't using it after all. (He then launched into justifications that could have won him a gold at the justification Olympics, just like his mum aye. He certainly learned how to justify from an expert).

Me: OK, so where are the parts of my bike then? (Me quietly using the dangerous 'OK' at the start of the sentence. Most who know me know to watch for that especially if it's said quietly).

Tim: Well. Sarah's got the (some important parts) and her mother's got (some other important parts) and so the list went on. It would cost heaps and be a lot of trouble to get it all back together.

Me: OK (that again very quietly) so I left a perfectly good mountain bike, suitable for purpose in going condition, lightly ridden by one careful lady owner with no rough mates and it's going to cost heaps for me to have it back in going condition? Please explain?

Tim: Well (he thought fast, I could see the brain whirring on the fuzzy screen) I knew it would need some modifications for riding in the desert, in the hot temperature. You know that I've ridden in New Mexico so know the conditions really well. I'll need to change the (more technical terms and part names) and give you some (more of the previous) just so you don't have to do so much maintenance (words I did appreciate, I was getting sucked into forgiveness).

Me: OK then ( a bit softer, Tim is after all my charming first born) so what do you have to do? (Read, how much will it cost me?)

Tim: If I did (more technical terms and part names) it might be cheaper.

Me: Well, could you please do whatever you think needs doing so I can bring it back with me in August? (Yes, I said please and gave him an open cheque. I am a slow learner).

Tim: I'll get it ready for you.

Me: (Gratefully) Thanks son, I really appreciate that.

End of conversation. Can't believe I was so grateful at the end of the conversation, I could see Tim sigh a sigh of relief and change the subject. I can imagine the conversation with Sarah who just might have said "I told you so" after the call.

The story ends well, Tim has fixed my bike to competition standards that this soon to be nana cannot possibly break. Even without basic maintenance. I'm looking forward to getting out riding, exploring the paths along the wadi's in town and getting some hill work in Oman. Next job, buying a 4wd and finding some fellow cyclists to get out and about with.
A picture of said bike ready to be boxed for the long plane journey. Thanks son, much appreciated.

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