The Truth About Nick's Bike...

If you are going to spend weeks on end with a group of mates in the wilderness then it is important to all get on together. Like any relationship you have to cope with the ups and downs and above all have absolute trust in your fellow travel companions. A seemingly minor mis-demeanour like crapping in someone else's Shit Box or keeping a secret stash of Kebab flavour Pot Noodles when everyone else is down to their last Wagon Wheel, can quickly escalate into arguments and in the worst case could lead to full blown sulking over several days.

And so it is only right that we should set off with a clean conscience knowing that there are no secrets or hidden agendas. For my part I will come clean and admit that on one occasion at HQ I did swap the contents of one of Charlie's Stella Artois with a can of Morrisons Value lager. Furthermore I regret to admit that I dropped Matt's breakfast one morning and instead of throwing the contents in the bin I simply picked the woodlice and pubes out of the beans and served them up with a smile. Well what he doesn't know can't hurt him. Except he does know now and he might hurt me. But I'd like to think he'll appreciate my honesty and buy me a beer.

Now that I've got those little porkies out of the way I think it's time to reveal the enormous hog roast that's been casting a shadow over our preparations. This is a moment so huge that it eclipses Top Gear's revelation that Michael Schumacher isn't The Stig. Like an MP's expense claim for a butt plug it was bound to come out at some point so I think now is the time before untold damage is done.

The thing is, last year when we were scouring Ebay for our bikes we had some great success and managed to find mine, Matt's and Charlie's bikes in quick succession. We also managed to pick up two really cheap spares bikes which were only really any good for, well...spares. Then it crossed our minds that we might just be able to salvage a half-decent bike out of the two spares bikes. Not a good bike you understand, but good enough for Nick. In any case he had failed yet again to turn up to HQ having cried off with one of his standard school boy excuses, "the dog died", "I have a doctor's appointment", "I have a poorly tummy and mummy says I shouldn't leave the house". For the record, in the last 6 months Nick has lost 8 dogs to terminal illnesses, been to the doctor 9 times and had the shits 17 times.

I digress, but suffice to say we got one of the spares bikes running and decided it had Nick's name on it. By the time he next turned up to HQ we'd done enough of a job on it for him not to notice the worst bits. To be fair we had a head start since Nick normally rides a Kawasaki Versys, so he has no real concept of what a good bike is.

There have been the occasional forlorn murmurings about why his bike has 45,000kms on the clock and considerably more rust than everyone else's but as far as Nick is concerned his bike was owned from new by a little old man with a fondness for boiled sweets and choir boys. Well Nick, on behalf of the rest of the team I am ashamed to say we lied to you. The old man didn't like choir boys, he said they tasted funny. There, we've said it. We can all all sleep soundly tonight.