Extra sensory perception.
A paranormal ability.
Telepathy & Hokus Pokus.
Watercraft.

I witness the surface and saw it fold. I found a delightful hole. A space that ‘screamed’ fish. The sub terrain under a tree that brushed and broke the waters surface. A gentle tow and breeze on a lazy summers day which put me to sleep for over an hour after a Granny Smith, my second of the morning. A soft wind pushed through the leaves and manoeuvred clouds into ideal conditions for a full-day of fishing.

We were the only two souls on the Great Pond; Myself and Sir. Charles. I was experimenting with and trying to master the Lift Method again. I have a desire to perfect it, not only for myself but to prove to The President that his teachings are being put to good use and not a waste of his valuable time.

I felt I knew they wanted a worm, presented on a small hook and light line. Two AA shots fell through the water and the quill followed my lines trajectory, before I delicately tighten up. The float, awkwardly cocked, looks wrong when compared to the perfectly dotted waggler, but to a purist and to those that really want to found out what is going on under the water, know that this is the perfect way to hunt for tinca. Simple critically balanced perfection. The natural buoyancy of a handmade quill-float wants to rise with the mouth of feeding fish and when it does, it’s game over for the doctor. I am certain that I will leave this pond as the victor today.

I set-up a temporary dinning table in a guesthouse and invited pisces from all around to come and munch on my free offerings. A paid buffet with a free bar. The banquet has started and you can see the bubbles rise up from a section of happy diners. I imagine they are smiling and I could put money on them having dinner around their chops. My restaurant is now officially open and I’ve fully awoken from my early afternoon snooze. My anti-reverse is on, everything poised to strike, my rod tip quivered and I have ditched my rod rests in favour of my knee. There is a feast taking place under a tree and everyone is invited. I am in direct contact with nature, when I move my rod tip the float sinks under the tension. I hold my breathe.

The odd grain of corn is introduced to entice and to catch the red eye of the Doctor. The entree is a consistent bed of carp pellets introduced like canopies on a wedding tray, and on top, the main course - a juicy wriggling worm. It sends vibrations through the water to the lateral line of the fish. Perch and tench eat confidently and I consistently torment them until the sun disappears behind the trees until we reluctantly admit that it’s time to pack-up and go home.

All words and photos by Thom Barnett

June 16th is a special day in the anglers calendar and yet, the rivers always seem to be choked-up with weed on the first day of the river season. I had dreams about Barbus during the week leading up to this day, I even purchased a tin of hemp and pellets with a tentative plan to start the season as it ended, targeting barbel and chub. But, with little to no rain for weeks up here in the North, on the eve of Opening Day we decided the changed our plans (over a pint of Otter’s Claw!) to do something more traditional this summer.

Tench fishing is associated with the opening day of the coarse fishing season for good reason. In Bernards Venable’s book, ‘Mr. Crabtree Goes Fishing’, the Dad (Mr. Crabtree) teaches Peter (his son) how to catch Tinca Tinca. Ironically, our day mimicked that, with the MAC President Sir. Charles, using his years of expertise and watercraft skills to teach the young keen angling upstart (me!) a new technique ~ The Lift Method.

I’m convinced that fishing with a float is the act of mindfulness disguised as a boring sport (to those that it does not appeal). Those that do get it will understand the excitement of observing a float in still-water and today I’m using a peacock quill, handmade by The President himself. In a world suddenly full of long-range casting carp pyjama-wearing morons, fishing in this manner is the total opposite. It’s a very delicate and extremely simple (but effective) method, like much of ‘fooling fish’, there is little to gain in its over complication.

Starring at a float leaves room for the brain to drift away too, there is just enough happening to keep you focused and in the moment yet, seemingly very little action for a kind-of meditative hypnosis to occur. Imagine that your brain becomes something like a twirling-dervish. Some of my most creative moments happen during this time, in fact, I imagined a full-collection of angling t.shirts with the following slogans on the front …

1. ALL BREAM ARE GAY (FRENCH)
2. PERCH ARE NOT PUNKS
3. CARP ARE IRRATIONAL AF
4. TENCH ARE NOT DOCTORS
5. PIKE ARE DERANGED & SPOILT
6. BARBEL ARE HUMOURLESS TWATS
7. TROUT ARE SILLY BASTARDS

(please note. I am yet to decided whether to make these t.shirts, but I’m sure you will agree that they are truly wonderful!)

For the hook bait I used a single piece of (Aldi) sweetcorn, ledgered with just two SSG shots (1.6g). Ground bait is mixed into small balls and introduced onto a dinner-table sized area in the water. Not too much bait, but enough to get them sniffing around. (REMEMBER - “once you’ve put it in, you can’t take it back out”.) The float is cocked by slowly tightening your line up to the SSG shot. As fish start to sit around your banquet and proceed to dine, you witness the movements down in the mysterious depths by observing the float shake, knock and tremble. The most exciting part of the day being when the tench stumble across the dining table and you witness all sorts of micro-popping-fizzing bubbles near the float. At this moment, unless you lack soul, your heart will start racing a bit and you know it's only a matter of time!

Be patient and make this journey enjoyable enough that you're not bothered how long it lasts.

You only strike when the float rises, or floats away. Your rod is sat on two rod rests and your hand is resting over the trigger (your reel). I imagine myself as a cowboy in a quick-draw salon gun-fight to the death! (please note all fish are returned safely). 

Somewhere in-between todays obsession with fishing for big-carp and "bagging-up" at commercial fisheries, these lost and simple tactics of pleasure fishing are being ignored and are becoming less and less popular with modern anglers, which to me seems a real shame because tench do put-up what can be described as a spirited fight. The sudden dart into open water and their ploddy pulls on your line put a nice bend into the rod.

All things said, it’s great sport on a light/balanced tackle and who doesn't want to spend a summers day in the sun, sat by the flowering lily pads? 

Words and photography by Thom Barnett & Sir Charles Williamson 

I've been extremely fortunate in my life to have been shown 'the way' to do these kinds of rides, which in a nutshell are, bike rides from your back-door to a destination (usually a cost effective venue like a YHA) and back the next day. The route should include the best roads, pubs and food you know of. I am now trying to pass this knowledge onto you. 

When you get these rides right, you will create some of the best memories of your life, without a doubt. 

I am writing this now, after refining this skill for over 10 years. I see so many people/brands online now doing it in the least authentic way possible, which I believe does cycling as a whole a disservice. I thought a few notes on this style of riding (AKA Yomping!) might inspire/help a few of you who have always wanted to do this kind of trip. It's taken me this long because I always thought it might sound patronising (I don't like telling people what to do or think!), but after a conversation with a young-pro this weekend who said "I wouldn't know where to start doing a ride like that", I changed my position and thought I'd jot a few things down after our recent trip.

Firstly, for the record, you might want to refine a route over a number of years. What roads work? What roads don’t? Which sections of rough-stuff are rideable on a road-bike? Bridleways and small lanes sometimes need to be seen and explored in person. Sometimes you can wing it, other times plotting a route is worthy of careful consideration and needs hours of research and decision making. I'm fortunate to live and work in Sheffield, so I've done approx 60,000 miles on roads in the Derbyshire Peak District, I know the place well which makes planning this kind of ride relatively easy (my approach is different somewhere else in the country, I may write about that in future too).   

For luggage, my advice would be to pack-light and take bare essentials. You'll spend most of the day on the bike so SPD shoes with a recessed cleat gives you the option to not pack casual footwear, which can take up valuable space and saves you some weight. Depending on the forecast/time of year, I take a long sleeve t.shirt, a light-insulated jacket/gilet, a pair of lightweight trousers/shorts, a spare pair of socks and something to sleep in (boxer shorts), that is 100% enough! You can rent a towel in most YHA’s and don't forget your toothbrush. All that should fit in a small saddlebag and although your bike will weigh considerably more, it won't be too uncomfortable for a long ride. I've found it's a critically balanced compromise! Ultimately, the bike is still nice to ride and you've got everything you need. 

Having someone follow you in a car with your luggage like a support vehicle is 100% NOT Yompin’, in fact I find it pathetic and I seriously frown upon those that do it! These rides must be self-supported to get the most from them. Don't be fooled by brands who aren't doing it this way either, it's fraudulent behaviour and deserves x500 lashes for poor marketing practices! 

Find a good pub-stop or cafe for dinner, it's always a winner! If you choose the pub, then this gives you the potential for a couple of pints too (daytime drinking cannot be beaten!) The heady mix of endorphins, alcohol, good conversion, quiet lanes and hopefully some sun or nice weather is a hard one to beat. I can assure you, if you get this mixture correct, the memories you create will be up there with the very best and you'll want to book your next trip as soon as you get back home.  

Use the ride as a chance to ignore the junk of the world, that includes your mobile phone! I use a disposable camera or 35mm point-and-shoot camera to document my trips. This can help you stay in the moment, since you’re limited to x24 or x36 frames to record the day. You cannot document it all and you’re more selective with your image making - therefore more likely to live in the moment, which appears to be a lesson in of itself nowadays and one which takes a considerable amount of time to master!

There is nothing worst than riding with someone who is trying to take multiple photos of everything that is happening to share with the world, that is like filming a concert on your phone, there is no point in even being there! If you're trying to 'display' your life to other people, you are not living your life. No one wants to watch your shitty video of your bike trip, you won't even look back at ALL the photos/videos you've taken either. You'll invite envy into your life from people who aren't your real friends on social media. The solution - don't do it! Focus on making moments of meaning and connection in the here and now. 

Soak up the environment, the roads you're riding and the people you are with.

If you need routes, I've got them. You can email me and I'll happily share them with you, but my advice would be to do it your own way and enjoy yourself. 

These photos are from our recent trip into The Peak District National Park. 

All words and images by Thomas Barnett

I found this photo attached an old email. 

It was taken by my pal Tim on the 1st of November, 2010. The location is at the top of Ringinglow Road, right before the sign that reads ‘DERBYSHIRE’. The road has since been resurfaced.

I imagine that Tim rode away from me on the climb and then stopped in the lay-by to take the photo as I approached, I don’t remember much about the ride, it was a long time ago. 

I’m wearing some M&S casual shorts over the top of my bib-shorts,  a pair of Nike trainers, Campagnolo cap and a vintage Carrera jersey. 

Back then I was totally clueless about bikes and bike riding etiquette, I owned very little proper cycling kit apart from some vintage jerseys. I was on my first proper road bike ~ T.J. Quick Reynolds 531c frame with some vintage Campagnolo parts which I bought from a friend at the time. 

Andy Mac built the bike up for me it in his garage one Saturday afternoon and I rode it home across town that same evening. I remember it feeling good to ride the bike, to go down hill reasonably fast with the wind on my face. I also remember feeling vulnerable riding on the main road with cars. 

At that time I was 25 years old. This was all before I started Mamnick. 

Since then so much has changed, but finding this photo reminded me of how far I'd come (in bike terms). It reminded me of how hard riding a bike in Peak District can be when you're not fit. 

I get sent messages from people on social media asking for advice of how to “get into cycling” and I never really feel like I can give a adequate response. My first piece of advice is usually - “Buy a cheap bike and see if you like it”. 

This is the first image I have of me riding a road bike but ironically, some fundamental things have stayed the same. I still ride steel bikes with relatively big gears, with down-tube shifters. I still wear a cotton cap and I still ride on (or near) this road frequently. 

The image got me thinking about how we all start somewhere, and this (is roughly) where I started. 

Word by Thom Barnett

Perhaps it’s because my introduction to the bike was guided by a handful of old-school club riders who had earned their spurs riding and racing in a time long before cycling became cool. Cyclists’ were often seen as outsiders. Often exposed to piss-taking and ridicule from those that simply 'don’t get it’. 

Winter riding where I come from consists of riding a trusted steel or aluminium winter bike with full (proper) clearance for mudguards and vitally important mudflap. Usually tyres would be nothing less than 28mm, sometimes with tread. Plenty of clearance for off-roading, perhaps a bike with a longer wheel-base. A saddle-bag is very useful, containing extra kit ~ in case you get caught out by the rain on a long Sunday ride (you can change in the cafe!). Other bits of kit consist of a spare pair of gloves for the same reason and I know some lads who carry a spare couple of tubes and even a tyre. I’ve heard stories of (but never witnessed) old-school pro’s riding through winter with a brick in their saddle bag, to make them stronger. I’m unsure if there is any evidence to back up if this experiment works! I’ve also heard stories of Freddie riding a steel MTB bike with drop handle-bars through winter (and still giving people a tough time on the road). 

Compare the above with how we see winter cycling marketed nowadays. I’ve not seen one mudguard in a photoshoot this year from many of the ‘top’ brands, and I don’t see many out on the road either (not to mention the vital mudflap!). Many new riders idea of a winter bike is their old racing bike, ie. their old summer bike before they bought their expensive new one! How anyone can be happy riding in a group getting covered in shite and covering their cycling compadre in shite off the road is beyond me! 

As for the the kit, I’ve seen brands push their ‘winter kit’ out there, consisting of a thin base-layer and thin polyester jersey! Unless this is a Gabba, Combi or Assos 851 jacket you’re likely to get cold riding in the North, this is especially true in the Peak District. Bib-shorts and leg-warmers are for riding in the Spring/early Autumn. Winter is the time for proper warm tights, really ‘biff’ overshoes. I suppose you could argue with the development of materials such as Gabba or Tempest, that the need for laying-up is changing, but you still wont see me leave the house in winter without a gilet on my back or in my jersey pocket (ever!). So what is deemed ‘acceptable attire’ for winter riding? I am questioning here weather cycling brands have turned their back on ‘authenticity’.

Round our way many riders will opt to wear a pair of winter shoes, MTB or recessed-cleated touring shoes ~ ideal if you need to carry the bike on the shoulder over black-ice or (hopefully) over some rough-stuff! Also great for walking around in the cafe or the pub! Fast carbon soled road shoes are saved for best.

All words by Thom Barnett 

Photos by Nick Newton

"If everybody is doing it one way, there is a good chance you can find your niche by going exactly in the opposite direction" - Sam Walton 

Sticking a label on the way you ride seems limiting. It goes against the spirit of cycling to me. Putting people into groups rather than seeing people as individuals is tribal. This can be problematic in the form of bike-riding, politics, thinking and all the vague post-modernist crap in-between!  

Regarding the bike, geography plays a big part - where you live influences your choice of rides which can influence the way you ride.

I’ve met London folk who are forced to do laps of parks to stay fit with the time they have available. I know folk who ride the flatter lanes of Yorkshire, fighting harsh crossed winds, pressing-on, since they don’t have the luxury of the hills of the Peak on their doorstep or a network of bridleways to explore. I’ve ridden with pro’s who clip off the front of group rides to do intervals and mountain-bikers who pootle around the hills and trails looking for a down-hill thrill. Rough-stuff riders whose aim is to get away from traffic, finding a nifty traverse or to stop to look at birds with a lightweight pair of binoculars around their necks (or in their saddle bag) ~ Are they still Yompin? 

Some people need the badge/label before they throw their leg over the top-tube. Fix-wheeling city slickers, rough-stuffer, audaxers and cafe run heroes! Excuse-makers, newbie-faffers ~ Are they still Yompin? I'm not so sure. Some people seem to get 'it', others don't. 

My family used the word 'yomp' when I was growing-up. It was the term we used to describe going for a long walk on a Sunday afternoon before dinner. At the time it made me think of walking from our house through Wickersley wood, Slacks Pond and over to Carr. Later in life I looked into the term and its association with the Royal Marines' long-distance loaded marches carrying full-kit. To me the term lent itself to describe a cycle-tourist riding around the world carrying his life on his bike. Later, I found the acronym of Yomp ~ Your Own Marching Pace, and I came to the conclusion this could could mean any type of riding (or hiking) if indeed the participant is doing it their own way - something I’ve always been drawn to. People doing things their own way, from eccentrics to free-thinkers, polemicists to  commentators. Life’s rich tapestry of ideas and knowledge. Somehow I’ve managed to convince myself (and others) that it’s all Yompin’. 

I like the idea of Yomp being something that crosses these borders, taking the best parts of all of riding and throwing them together into a little niche - continuing the spirit of what I think cycling is all about.  All this said, perhaps I’ve just been massively over-thinking it and maybe I should just ride the bloody bike!  

Words and 'Ice' photo by Thom Barnett 

'Pushing' and 'Club Run' photos by Nick Newton 

“The third-rate mind is only happy when it is thinking with the majority. The second-rate mind is only happy when it is thinking with the minority. The first-rate mind is only happy when it is thinking.” AA Milne

Perhaps geniuses and prodigies are born knowing how to think for themselves, but most of us have to learn how. And unfortunately many never do. Perhaps it’s because they never had the right teacher at school or met the right friend to show them. Or perhaps because thinking for yourself isn’t easy.

To think properly requires an understanding of the subconscious biases of the human mind. To then make conscious compensations to avoid falling into the countless traps of fallacious thinking.

An example of one such trap is the common belief fallacy; “most people I know hold the same belief, therefore it must be true”. In many cases it may well be true of course, but a cursory look back at history will show an endless list of things that whole societies and even civilisations believed to be true that we now know are not.

Evolution by natural selection, arguably the greatest single idea in human history, provides the explanation. If you doubted the common belief of the tribe that tigers were dangerous and decided to find out for yourself instead, you probably wouldn’t last long enough to have any children who might inherit your way of thinking. In this way natural selection favoured credulous thinking and over time we evolved towards many aspects of herd behaviour.

While this evolved natural tendency of accepting what everyone around you thinks without question or evidence provided a shortcut to survival to our ancestors, in many situations of the modern world, it is unreliable and lazy at best. And fatally dangerous at worst.

A look at the common beliefs in the political ideologies of the 20th Century serve as a sobering warning to the extent of this danger counted in the death and ruined lives of hundreds of millions of people. Communism and Fascism both presented visions of human society that gained popular following because of irrational, biased thinking that led to common belief fallacies that in turn led to the horrors of the Gulag and the Holocaust.

Another example of cognitive irrationality is confirmation bias; the natural tendency to cherry pick arguments and evidence to support and confirm your existing beliefs and opinions. The more emotive a subject or the more you feel the belief is part of your identity, the stronger your confirmation bias tends to be. Over a wide range of subjects - from belief in God and abortion to taxation and wealth redistribution and onto military intervention and disarmament - there are people equally convinced of their opinion or beliefs on both sides of a given debate who have little understanding of the argument from the other side. Often their confirmation bias is so strong that they have no understanding at all; they have simply never listened to it. Instead they have shouted over it and attacked the person making the argument. This is, in itself, another example of a logical fallacy known as ad hominem - attacking or insulting the person making the argument or casting doubt on their character or motive rather than engaging in the argument itself.

Which brings us to the potential downsides or costs of thinking for yourself - it sometimes leads to disagreeing with your friends. If it is a ‘blue touch paper’ topic of conversation, you risk falling out with them. Picking your battles carefully and deciding which friendships matter are sensible and serious considerations.

You can have the same disagreement with yourself too when you challenge your own heartfelt preconceived ideas and beliefs. This can take you towards an existential crisis if you are not prepared for it. There is no doubting that thinking for yourself can be a risky business.

A final note to add to the cost ledger is that there are no shortcuts. You have to first understand at least some of the many ways in which your human nature works against you, then correct for them and finally, and most importantly, practice.

But this is where things swing strongly in favour of taking the risk and putting in the time and the effort. With practice you realise that because it takes time to listen to both sides of an argument, measure the evidence and form an opinion, there is no shame in not having an opinion until then. You free yourself from the expectation to have opinions on everything and to pretend to know more than you do.

The benefits to independent thinking include (but are in no way restricted to) taking responsibility, learning more, improving yourself and bringing yourself closer to the truth. Arguably the most valuable benefit though is the liberation that the honesty that comes with it brings. By thinking for yourself you free yourself to learn who you are.

Antoine Ventouse