Macho Casanova

I am in a shop. I have a terrible decision to make. In front of me are two cans of deodorant. The only cans of deodorant left in the shop. I am in desperate need. Rakesh’s goat snipes are wearing thin. The choice is this; Casanova, in a nice black can, would cover the smell of a dead goat easy, or Macho, stronger smell would probably kill a goat. The shopkeeper is impatient, what would you go for????

I am a Macho man.

Rode with a great group these last ten days 2 Canadians handy riders, very fit and two Mucovite superfast downhillers. We rode the Top Station descent yesterday. A 30km empty road tarmac climb up through genuine travel brochure beauty. Then its 12 km downhill dropping around 1700 meter to the dusty little settlement of Korangani. The descent is unbelievable, 3 km of swooshing superfast singletrack, then it’s a barely visible rutted path through endless lemon grass before a quick coffee shop stop at Middle station the former half way point on the old ropeway route that transported all the tea from the Munnar hills to the railhead at Body then through to the coastal port of Tuticorn.

After coffee its rock garden after rock garden, super tight stone strewed switchbacks, jump after jump and sustained techi downhilling for around 30 minutes. The Ruskie’s loved it the Canadian’s said they enjoyed it. For me it was a last chance to bring out the creaking lump of a bike that is my 04 Enduro. It clunked, grinded, sludged, battered and occasionally with uncharacteristic grace it danced over the odd rock in the dust stream of Evgeny and Igor, I a helpless passenger. It will hate me for this but a shiny new Iron Horse 6.4 awaits me in two weeks time will the Enduro turn against me? Its got 7 more days to do it’s best.