Hhhhhola!!! Touch down as fuck in Spain and whilst I’m now a decent day behind in my almost real time updates, (hate the jet lag, don’t hate the Nomad) its time for a little entree of what’s up in our new HQ for the next week or so. To be noted, now the mission has kicked off I have about as much bandwidth as 1997 Dial up internet trying to watch HD Porn, so may be a bit slow with updates.

There was a plane… There was a rental car… But really all that we need to wank on about on day zero was getting to this destination, thanks to the wonder that is Google maps and my overpriced data roaming package, neatly tucked in the bosom of the Mon-Tons. Welcome to Ainsa gang:


Cobbles x Mon-Tons x Air you can breath = Good times

Turns out the area is referred to as ‘Zona Zero‘, which as I found out after a day of saying ZONa ZERo like a total cock, that its actually pronounced as though you have a lisp and excess saliva when you speak, so aim more for ‘Thona Thero‘ territory and you’ll be sweet.

Besides how to pronounce it properly, the low down on ZZ is that its basically ENDURO as fuck, acting as the HQ for getting rad in Spain. Back when people used to shoot each other with muskets, or even earlier, the area had more than a few villages which of course needed to all hook up (this is pre Tinder mind you). So thanks to medieval necessity, mofo’s got busy with trail building, I assume as they wanted to get to town for a beer, who can blame them?


Did I mention there was also a lake kicking around down there?

Luckily for modern day us, they built a shit load of trail and then eventually, everyone decided to fuck off to the cities, presumably as there was better blow/Paella there. I may be glossing over hundreds of years of history (Note – Historical accuracy possibly about 3%, but the general vibe is solid), but the upshot is that by the time two thousand and fifteen has rolled around, the infrastructure of some sort of ENDURO paradise has been laid down for us to come and get amongst using vans and awesome bikes (assuming you show up with a Santa Cruz). Speaking of which, who doesn’t love a post travel shake down spin when you end up looking at this set-up?


Nomad’s x 2 back in the natural habitat

The only glitch in the matrix on this first day Spanish love affair was the onset of a sore throat that despite my best attempts, didn’t want to be ignore. Don’t blame it on the sunshine, don’t blame it on the ENDURO, blame it on the Haze.

So, using all my Spanish gleaned from watching ‘Dora the Explorer’ and harnessing my skills as the 1998 Wellington Charades champion, I hunted out the Pharmacist and got about impersonating a Mexican Donkey with syphilis that was choking on a hairy dildo. Clearly this was a convincing act, as I then had to convince him that I didn’t actually need syphilis medication, nor was I actually Mexican. Many hand gestures later, I think I ended up with some lemon flavoured lollies. Ace.

So then, entree almost eaten, here’s a spicy follow up for what happened on Day 1 of actually riding a bike…

And now – A preview of destruction

Ohhhhh… Just wrapped up day one of shredding here in the ZZ and I’m almost wet at the prospect of unleashing the town of Springfield on what unveiled itself in the course of the day…

Yes, get out the Marshmallow’s motherfuckers, as I’m going to be preparing an Enve bonfire for you to enjoy… Oh yes, just when you thought it was safe to go back into the gnar with a carbon rim, there was something out there waiting for me… Its not often you say the words “That was a terrible rim job“, but in the case of Enve we will make that rare exception. I tempted fate with the Mission Briefing, but until you get the full story, its hard to fathom a second over priced rim has imploded like a Russian submarine.

Watch this space…

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