AT FIRST I WAS AFRAID, I WAS PETRIFIED

No bullshit, I was. The BTR looked liked it had been knocked up in my neighbour’s garage. The bottom bracket was shot. The brakes didn’t work. The gears were similar to a pack of angry toddlers on a bouncy castle (jumpy) and the forks were in need of some ‘jiz’ juice and a service.

KEEP THE FAITH, LORD YOU GOTTA KEEP THE FAITH

I’m a great believer in giving anyone a shot at the ‘big time’. Think of me as the Simon Cowell of the bike world. But in complete contrast to our beloved Mr. Cowell I try not to be full of shit and I am not in it for the money. The BTR deserved an audition. Perhaps even a holiday. Somewhere rough, steep and littered in roots.

IT WAS A DAY TRIPPA

Some holidays are like a five–star cruise, comfortable and relaxing. Mine and the BTR’s day out was more like a coach trip to Margate (it was actually Ludlow). Action packed, uncomfortable, tiring, but a trip you will always remember.

WOULD YOU DANCE IF I ASKED YOU TO DANCE?

If someone asks you to dance you should always ‘yes’. It’s just rude not to (no matter how they look). On any U.K. based downhill course the BTR can ‘quick step’, ‘cha cha cha’ and do ‘70’s disco’. In fact whatever dance you ask it to do it’ll perform. The BTR is without question the John Travolta of the ‘DOWN–A–HILL’ hardtail world. It’s the best DH course dance partner I’ve had for a long, long, time and with not a single, aesthetic sparkle and sequin insight (in other words, no over–priced carbon bollocks).

JUMP FOR MY LOVE

The BTR jumps with ease. If the jumps are fast and downhill it zips and floats through the air. However, if you venture into slow and tech it isn’t that great. But let’s face it, why would you take a pure out–and–out DH race bike to slow and tech. ‘Fast’ as f–k is where this bad boy belongs.