A Trophy//Atrophy

It’s awards season in cycle land. As the outgoing club secretary one of my last jobs is to sort out the engraving of the various different bits of silverware. Engraving isn’t what it used to be; where once an artisan engraving etched a serif font with tradesman’s tools, now it’s done on a simple punch machine and doesn’t look that grand. You can see the degeneration of an artform over the years by looking at the names on the bases. Some of the shields date back to the late 1890s. It’s quite a humbling experience.

I’ve managed to retain some of the cups I won last year, which is nice. On current form i’d struggle to retain my dignity on the bun run, let alone earn a shiny trinket for my efforts. I’ve been eating staggering amounts of chocolate and drinking ale. My current favourites are the Bristletoe and Festivity. Buy local, folks. Apart from that, it’s been a simple matter of riding fixed to work, a whopping 6 miles each way, soft-pedalled. Where possible i’ve been avoiding the centre of town, it makes it much more bearable.


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