Throwback Thursday – Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud

Throwback Thursday – Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud

 

Dirty
Dirty

“I made all of my Generals out of mud” – Napoleon. 

I’m sure that you’re just like me. Whenever I plan a ride, whenever I daydream about escaping on my bike, my mind is filled with sun-baked trails billowing dust and gravel behind me. Of deep, eye-achingly blue skies and the promise of an ice-cream at the end of the ride (or maybe a venti Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino, if you’re asking).

 

This content is exclusive for Premier users.
If you are a Subscriber log in.

Subscriptions start from just £1.99

Find out more!

Words by Paul Cray

 

 

Barney Marsh takes the word ‘career’ literally, veering wildly across the road of his life, as thoroughly in control as a goldfish on the dashboard of a motorhome. He’s been, with varying degrees of success, a scientist, teacher, shop assistant, binman and, for one memorable day, a hospital laundry worker. These days, he’s a dad, husband, guitarist, and writer, also with varying degrees of success. He sometimes takes photographs. Some of them are acceptable. Occasionally he rides bikes to cast the rest of his life into sharp relief. Or just to ride through puddles. Sometimes he writes about them. Bikes, not puddles. He is a writer of rongs, a stealer of souls and a polisher of turds. He isn’t nearly as clever or as funny as he thinks he is.

More posts from Barney