Too much sitting about in the office gets us yearning for a blowout. The sort of day that leaves your legs covered in mud, your hair drenched in sweat, and keyboard collecting dust.
The other day, we found ourselves with that very same feeling, and as it turns out we weren’t the only ones. Our pals at Goodlids had recently acquired a Volkswagen Transporter from 1988, a Halfords bike rack for £35 and invited us into the Peak District to try both.
Inspired by a shared love of ’80s Patagonia catalogue photography and old bikes, we boarded the campervan and headed into the Peak District in the hope that we could capture some grainy imagery of our own. The sort of photos that rely on character and energy for merit rather than models. Good news for us, because no one from the Proper office is making the front page of Vogue anytime soon.
With bicycles strapped to the £35 bike rack with surprising levels of solidarity, we spent the next couple of hours within the confines of our affectionately named camper, Peanut, admiring every inch of her pristine beige paint job and abundance of ashtrays. Our home-on-wheels was undeniably from the same vintage era as the aforementioned Patagonia catalogues, and the bikes bobbing about the rear window weren’t far off either.
Once we’d docked in the Peak District, untethered our bikes from Peanut’s behind, and switched into an ensemble of Goodlids gear, we spent the next five hours tearing about the heather-plagued landscapes – crunching gears, spraying dirt, skidding, sliding and remembering why suspension is now commonplace on all mountain bikes.
But what we lacked in modern technology, we made up for in something else. Things like suspension and electronic shifting have undoubtedly made riding bikes easier, but they also take away from what made mountain biking so much fun as a kid: the sense that, at any moment, something could go seriously wrong.
So while our arses may have been extremely unhappy during our bone-shaking descents, that feeling didn’t quite translate to our faces. We were beaming from ear to ear navigating prime Peak District gravel on our bicycles, that by modern standards should’ve ended up in landfill many years ago.
That making the most with what you’ve got mentality directly relates to Goodlids ethos, too. The brand has never proclaimed to make the most lightweight or technical gear on the market. On the contrary, they make the sort of outdoor clothing that actively makes you want to go outside – the sort of garb that only looks right once it has been doused in a healthy amount of dirt.
Although admittedly, on this outing, we almost certainly tipped into unhealthy levels of filthiness. It only took an hour before we were flecked head to toe in the finest grit the Peaks had to offer. Arms caked, faces freckled and knees covered. As much as we would’ve liked to have kept our new Pleated Shorts in suitable condition to sit on the sofa that evening, the damp Peak District floor and rear wheels had other ideas.
The beauty of getting that dirty though, is that you reach a point where you stop caring. Where you stop avoiding puddles and actively start seeking them out.
As the day progressed, we ventured higher into the Peaks. Anyone who has been up on the moors on a bad day will know that it can be a totally unforgiving landscape – like a barren wasteland that seems intent on shaking you off at every given opportunity. Unfortunately for it, we were on a mission: to stand on a peak for little reason other than the fact that it was there.
At times we were biking, at others we were hiking. The ground underfoot had turned from slick, to sludge and actually pedalling up it required a genuine amount of skill. Alas, we stood at the top – for all of fifteen seconds before the Peak District upped its wind speeds even more and added a sprinkling of ice cold rain – our cue to ride down as quickly as our mud-caked wheels would allow.
Thirty minutes later, and the day concluded as it had started – with us huddled inside Peanut, chatting in awe about its time capsule features – not least its gas cooker which managed to produce a genuinely delicious meal of minced beef inside tortillas. Maybe old technology is best? Or perhaps we were fucking starving. And frozen to the bone.
We trundled back to Manchester in no particular rush, chatting about the day and all the times we nearly went over the handlebars. Our legs were covered in mud, our hair was still wet with sweat, and no one had touched a keyboard all day – just as we had intended.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, and we’re proud to say that we managed to capture the Patagonia catalogue-inspired images we had set out to achieve. We hope you’ll agree – Goodlids gear looks even better with some added grain.
Find out more about Goodlids at goodlids.com
