Trueing a bicycle wheel has something of a “black arts” stigma attached to it. But it really isn’t very difficult at all. It requires only a few things:

• The patience of a saint.
• A spoke-key.
• Some blu-tac and a little allen key.
• A little knowledge of how a wheel works.

I can’t be bothered to explain the process here. It’d take longer to do that than to true a wheel. But let me put it this way:

Earlier on, I upturned my Cove Stiffee, and went to work on the back wheel. It was so far out of true it was funny — so wibbly that it was almost impossible to work out which bits were true and which weren’t. Adam left me in the garage with the comment “You’re going to be there for hours mate!” Not so – half an hour or so later I was done. Winner!

I then fitted the new tyres (which seem very narrow for 2.3″ers) and singleator and the bike was all ready to be ridden! Just a pity it was getting dark by then…

I used to work for a company based in Eynsham. They moved down the road to Carterton, and I thought that was the end of it — I mean, what possible reason would there be for me to go back to that sleepy little Oxfordshire town? Well, it turns out that the company I work for now has an office in Eynsham too, and I happened to be there yesterday.

Anyway, as I am still lacking a car, I had to get the good old Number 53 bus.

Oh. The memories. Getting up at ludicrous-o-clock in the morning and walking down into town to catch it. Sitting there half asleep as it takes numerous detours from the A40 (all in the name of good service). Being the only one who gets off at Eynsham, and the only one to get on there again in the afternoon. The bus nearly carrying on past you because the bus-stop at the Evenlode isn’t lit up. I’d forgotten just how long it takes, compared to the driving.

This, along with my other recent public transport experiences, and the fact there isn’t a supermarket within walking distance of here, means I’m seriously looking into getting a car. Mind you, I’ve said that before and never managed to get anywhere. Bloody lethargy…

Ina Fried, a c|net journalist, emailed me last night having seen my post about the Mac Mini.

Clearly they liked my reply so much that they’ve quoted me.

I R meeja whore.

I get home. I log on. I see that Apple have announced some very cool new kit.

I soon find myself in the Apple Store pricing up a new machine.

“Oooh, I’d like that … that looks cool … there’s no point in owning a computer if you don’t have the Creative Suite … an Elgato DVB PVR would be nice …”

And all of a sudden I was hit by “Order Total: £3,234.00”.

I closed the window and backed slowly away from the PC. Why does Apple gear have to be so very very tempting to a geek like me?

You know, I think I might well find myself buying a Mac Mini in the not too distant future.

I’ve just been to see Good Bye Lenin! at the film society, along with Ben and Anne.

Owen won’t be pleased to hear that he missed out on a really very good film (frusturiatingly events conspired against him and he wasn’t able to come along) .

I don’t know much about german cinema. The only other german film I remember seeing is Tatoo, which couldn’t be much more of a contrast to this one if it tried.

This one is a comedy, but not overtly so, and it could easily fit into so many other genres. Its full of clever political imagery, interwoven with some really very subtle family emotions. I’m finding it difficult to put this into words — there were so many parts of the film that stood out for me, but I don’t want to give any of it away. The way Alex (Daniel Brühl) gets excited by the silliest things because of his obsession is just fantastically played out, being both touching and very funny, and the way that his mother is played, especially towards the end of the film, is very well done.

I think the best thing I can do is tell you to see it yourself. Your local video shop is bound to have a copy by now.

Coined by Mr. Owen Clay earlier today, it can mean either “Frustratingly Infuriating” or “Infuriatingly Frustrating”. The choice is entirely yours.

I went to bed at a reasonably resonable hour.

I was knackered. I’d had a series of consecutive late nights, not really doing anything much — just not really realising what the time was until it was too late. I’d spent most of the weekend out on my bike. I had virtually no energy, but I managed to enjoy myself nonetheless. I was out in the open air with friends after all.

And now here I was, just lying in bed. Wide awake. For hours on end. I tried reading, but I was too tired to concentrate. Tired that is, not sleepy. If only. I tried clearing my find of all thoughts, but ended up being wide awake with nothing to think about. I tried counting sheep, but just found the whole concept comical, which never helps.

I remember seeing my clock at 05:09 and then suddenly MEEP! MEEP! MEEP! MEEP! MEEP! MEEP! Without any warning whatsoever its 08:15. A few snoozes later I force myself to get out of bed.

About twenty minutes further into the day and I’m dragging my bike out of the door and heading for work. This is going to be a very long day…

Just like yesterday, the highlight of today’s ride came right at the end.

This time I followed Alex down the old tramway. He was on his cross-country bike (a nice little Cove Handjob XC), whereas I was on my gert big full-susser.

He set off ahead of me, absolutely powering through the tight, flat singletrack. I was stuggling to keep up through there — it was all I could do to stay in contention with him. Then the trail heads downhill, over a series of rooty steps – and he’s not slowing up at all. I’d best let off the brakes then. Jaysus! He’s quick through the s-bend, I’ll have to try that line next time. Ahh, it gets really bumpy now! HA! Now look who’s the fastest!

The scary thing was that he wasn’t holding me up at all, until it got really rough and my rear suspension came into play. Even then I wouldn’t have gone a great deal faster.

Its always fun chasing a good rider down through the singletrack like that. The competitiveness kicks in along with the adrenalin: you just can’t let them get away. It really forces you to push your riding envelope and go for it. Its slightly galling when they’re on less suitable equipment and they still force you to push the envelope, but it doesn’t make it any less fun trying to keep up.

It also means you can see where they make the time up on you. In Alex’s case he simply brakes less than I do — he only uses them where he really needs them. He also takes slightly different lines through some sections: only slightly different, but enough to make him that little bit faster. Its probably the most fun way to learn how to go faster.