Why I ride

 

Well, basically - it's so I can see things like this. This was taken at about 8am, this morning, at the bottom of Wonham Lane, as it turns off from the Street, in Betchworth. It's the sort of bucolic image that makes me glad to be alive, and glad to be able to see it from the saddle of a bike. Glad to be inside this wonderful landscape, and glad to feel as though it's letting me in. Like I'm a part of the wondrous nature that surrounds me, in this part of the world. 

It was a breezy, bright morning - but damn, it was cold, too. I ended up back in Longs, which was slightly disappointing. I thought Spring was sufficiently here, that it would be nothing but bib shorts, from now onwards. 

Not quite!

Out with mum

 For her Birthday. Fish & Chips, at the posh place in Hatch End. A lovely day. It's been obviously hard, for Mum, since Dad passed away, and being there for her, has been a source of strength, and comfort. Pretty difficult on the roads, I have to say - sat in traffic on the M25, both ways. Over an hour and a half - ugh! Quickest I've done the journey has been around 50 minutes, so that tells you all you need to know.

It's been a lovely Sunny day here in Epsom, and I've finished it by watching Marnie swim. that's another source of pride, and a real sense of awe, for how good she really is. 

Well, that was tiring, but amazing.

 First UK shows of the year - at the Shiiine Festival in Skegness, then back to Esquire's in Bedford.

As expected, being on the road with friends, band members, and crew is just the most joyous experience. It's such a genuine pleasure to hang out with people who are basically family. Even the crew—we've worked with John, our FOH, for more than 20 years now! Skegness was somewhat bracing, and slightly down-at-heel, but it was an absolutely incredible gig. I'm not even sure why! Earlier in the day, it seemed as though the general organisation and crewing of the venues just weren't up to the usual standard of the "Shiiine gigs, which normally run like clockwork. There were questions over stage access, set-up times, depressing room access, tech specs, the lot. But, as soon as we stepped on stage, it was as if a weight had suddenly lifted. We tore through the set, everything worked, all the songs went over perfectly, and the crowd went bananas. So, we left the stage just an hour later, feeling like completely different people. The wave of adrenalin took several hours to subside.

The next day, we were already exhausted, when we got up (never a good sign) and it was going to be yet another long day. The journey from Skegness to Bedford was thankfully relatively short, so we checked in a little early, into the hotel (a rare luxury, for us) and the entire setup/soundcheck experience was flawless. but it was one of those days which saps the energy (and there wasn't much to start with!).

Gig time was 9.15, so we weren't off until nearly 11pm, back to the hotel for about midnight, and then we all ended up drinking and chatting in the hotel carpark, until about 2 am, with the sting in the tail of the clocks going forward, robbing us of an hour's sleep. Maybe got about four hours, maybe a little less. Consequently, today's has been a real slog. I keep looking at my watch, thinking "Can I go to sleep, at half-nine?"

Rock'n'Roll, what a business, eh? 

Out on the road again.

 First gigs of the year, this weekend!

So, we're headed off to Skegness (Oh, the glamour!) and Bedford. Touring, and the logistics of doing shows are becoming ever more complex, time-consuming, and expensive. But there is still a magic to it. I love the feeling of calm, once the gear is loaded into the van, and we actually start driving. At that point, it feels like you leave so much of your unease, or anxiety behind. Plus, the constant laughter and sense of community from being among friends (though it's more than that - we truly function as a family)

We've created bonds, over thirty-five years, that are absolutely unbreakable: revelling in that, for a few days, whilst looking at the world go by, is one of my life's greatest pleasures.

But there's still work to do, before I leave. Specifically, I've not even packed a case! I must head upstairs (I'm in the office, blogging) have a shower, get everything together. 

Gah! So busy!

 It's always like this, when things start ramping up towards some live shows. We have the Shiiine festival, in Skegness, on Friday, then back to Bedford Esquires, the following day. With rehearsals on Thursday night, it's basically written off most of the end of this week, plus the weekend. It's going to put a dent in my training, that's for sure. Ah well.

But riding has been such a pleasure, over these past few weeks. The weather has been (mostly) great, the roads around Rusper (my new favourite playground) are fast fun and inspirational. Plus, I'm fit again! Well, perhaps not entirely, but I'm getting back to my best.

This level of activity does have an effect on energy levels, though: I'm absolutely exhausted, come bedtime. I'm sitting here, on the bed, typing a blog post, looking at the time (9.15pm) and wishing I could just be alseep, right now.

I do feel like I should leave you with this though - it's the sound of my internal jukebox. Sunny, positive, and bucolic. Yeah, that tracks. 

It's not just fitness that's returned, I've felt a lot more love, in my heart. That's a good thing, isn't it? There were days when it was all so empty. I'm hoping I've turned a corner.

Even better, though.

 I've been back to those Surrey Lanes, and my mind is gradually returning to some sense of normality. I don't think what's happening over the other side of the Atlantic has been helping me, to be honest - it's just such a confusing, awful situation over there - and it's all compounded by the fact that I'm always thinking about returning to do tours. And should I? Considering all that's happening over there? 

Oh, I don't know. 

At times like these, I find it instructive to ask the question: "Will I feel better about my life, if I'm listening to some Miles Davis?"

the answer is always, always yes.

Feeling a bit better.

 Getting back out into the sunshine really helped.

I went back to Tanhouse (currently my happy place) and enjoyed a Courgette and Feta Muffin, which was absolutely spectacular. 

Muffin time

I'm finally getting fit again, which is really heartening - I think I was just in a rut, and getting out of it took some time. Just riding the same roads that I had ridden a month or so ago, I can feel the strength returning in my legs, the resilience, the extra lung capacity, the general strength. It's going to come in handy, sometime towards the end of June, as there is a bike trip on the horizon. More on that soon. and more, I think, about another jaunt to come - yeah, JJ are touring once more. No details for now, suffice to say it'll be abroad, and it'll be awesome (though, let's say, somewhat different from the last time)

The bike jaunt is filling my mind already - I'm starting to think about gearing, about what spares to take, how to teak the bike. I absolutely love stuff like this - bring it on!

Today has exhausted me.

 I feel....saturated, I suppose. Like I can't take any more, I'm full. It's not been particularly hectic, but I don't seem to have the will to answer any more questions, do anything for anyone, or sort anything out. I need to be outside, on the bike, heading down a country lane, as fast as I can go.

But, no matter how I feel, events will still come at me, the train will come down the tracks. whether I like it, or not. I think the question for me is: in the face of that train, what do I do? My plan is - grab it, and then hang on. For dear life.

New music

 Every year, I start a playlist, for that year. A repository for new things, new sounds, stuff that'll send me off on voyages of discovery, or just fill my mind, my heart and my head.

2025 has actually got off to a very strong start, indeed. there have certainly been years, in recent memory (maybe 2023? I'm not sure) where I literally couldn't be bothered. Where everything just left me cold. so it's heartening to find that my critical faculties are still in some sort of half-decent shape: that I'm still able to search out things to obsess over.

This is a great example:

Everything else about 2025 has been a shitshow, really, hasn't it? But the soundtrack is making me hopeful that love and peace and goodness still exists. Because beautiful music still exists. 

I love it when things turn into an obsession

 Case in point: the Merce Lemon album.

I absolutely hammered "Backyard Lover", late last year, but since then, the album has wormed its way even deeper into my consciousness. There's an almost painful melancholia on show - a steely-eyed resolve, a vulnerability that borders on determination. I can't recommend it highly enough: it's awesome.

I've been cycling again today - down Partridge Lane, to the Rusper Road. Lanes that I've not previously traversed - that's something which always fascinates and inspires me. the landscape is there to be explored, remembered and understood. I feel like I must commit these routes to memory, to allow them to become a part of me.

I need to do loads of things, over the weekend - Admin, some social media postings for Late Transmissions, and the Joneses too. Remember my musings on touring? Well, it looks like plans are afoot.

And it's not only gigs - there's a new album on the way, as well. I think it's better than Passages. That was archetypical Jones - this new record is an attempt to push the envelope as far as it will go: it'll confound, and thrill, in equal measure. I can't wait to share some stuff with you.

I think I need to be on tour.

 I'm craving something. Time to be myself, I think. The quiet, that only ever comes when the noise in my head is deafeningly loud, on stage. the smiles that only arrive when it's all so serious, and that weight is on my shoulders.

I think that's why I miss the boat, so much. On that cruise, I was in the midst of so much movement - this giant mass of metal, powering through the waves, yet there was a stillness in me. If you want me to be even more pretentious, I miss the singularity of purpose that emerges from those sorts of dualities. 

So, I'll start plotting, and I'll get back to you.

It's that view again

Box Hill Viewpoint

A quick check of my Strava suggests I've been up Box Hill around 300 times, which is crazy. But, if it's generally accepted to be a rite of passage for cyclists, then that rings even more true, for those of us who live in Surrey. I can be at the base of the hill in around 25 minutes, so it's effectively my local climb. 

And that, up there, is the view that greets you, when you reach the summit. I'm fascinated by the view - partly because it's beautiful, but also because it changes, all the time. There are times when that sky is a deep blue, and seems to go on forever. Times when threatening clouds roil over the weald beyond. Times when the fog over Pixham inverts, gently blanketing the woods on the horizon. It's an extraordinary sight, no matter what time of the year you look out from the viewpoint. 

TOday, I was on my way back from Rusper, hurtling down the mad mile, to Tanhouse Farm shop, for my usual double espresso and slice of cake. I love how cycling seeks to emphasise those simple moments of pleasure, that make everything fall into place. 

 

Gosh - a day away from the bike!

 I really wanted to keep on going - but, at the same time, you have to listen to your body, when it tells you "no". That's just one of the rules. I don't make them, I just follow them. And, it doesn't necessarily have to be your body screaming that it's in pain - a gentle whisper of tiredness is quite enough.

So, today has been quiet so far. Lots of admin (this always makes me feel better) and a quick bite to eat in Epsom, for lunch. Weather has turned, a bit, too. How annoying! I was hoping to keep pushing away at the bike rides, as spring finally took hold. Instead, it feels like we're taking a step backwards.

I've also done some minor mechanical things today - chief among those was the replacement of the pedal bodies for the Assioma Duo's. They were five years old, and I must have put at least 40,000km on them, so it's hardly surprising that they'd reached the end of their lifespan. A welcome side effect of new pedal bodies is just how quiet the bike is, now. The old pedals were contributing so much noise, so much rattling. The bike now feels taut, sounds silent.

Back on the decks

 It was a BFLF in Farnham, today - I'm trying to nail it down, but I'm sure it's the fourth time we've done it, in that particular location. It's so good to get back on the decks with Dylan. It's been a few weeks since we've seen each other, and it's always such a pleasure. Laughter, until we're nearly crying. I think we've now been a proper DJ team for around a decade, which seems like a ludicrously long time - but it's been wonderful. I do think it's been an inspiring process for both of us as well

. We've learned a lot - but we've also learned from each other. There's no one I'd rather play out with, let me put it that way. I trust Dylan, implicitly, when it comes to DJing. 

Lots of traffic on the roads today, the M25 is closed, at the junction with the A3, for another bridge demolition. those are the two roads we would have otherwise used, so as you can imagine, it wasn't the easiest journey. Overall though, helped by it being a glorious sunny day. I did feel a small pang of sadness that I wasn't out on my bike. maybe tomorrow? I think I had better - it's looking like it'll be the last tolerably warm day for around a week: after Monday, the cooler temperatures will return. 

My mind is still a little distracted, It has been for the last few days. I'm not sure why: I need to let it rest, a little. 

finally, I appear to be fit again.

 Well, back to a decent level of fitness, anyway. Over the last 18 months, I've got slightly rotund, I've definitely let my fitness slide, and I've not been able to ride as much as I'd like. 

I think that's at the heart of it, really. I've just had a couple of years packed with work, gigs, touring, and logistics. It's been impossible to string together a regular pattern of training. But, over the past three weeks, I've been on it, and (crucially) I've been outside. I'm so lucky to live in this most beautiful of locations - and I've thrived, in the open air. My preferred training patch is definitely now the hinterland past Betchworth, down towards Gatwich Airport, and then back via Newdigate, and (eventually) Box Hill/Lodgebottom Lane. 

Plane coming in to land, at Gatwick

When the weather is good, there really isn't anywhere else I'd rather be. And the route I take now heads back via the Rusper Road, past Tanhouse farm shop, so I can throw a slice of Chocolate Fudge Cake in my belly. Win-win. 

I've felt a little melancholy today, and I'm not sure why, though. Like I'm missing someone, or something. As if there's a hole in my life. A vacuum. I'll head off to bed, crawl under the sheets, and let my thoughts unwind. that's always a good remedy.