Finally.....cogitation completed, cream applied to cow-slip rash and lap-top wrestled from every other member of the family.
Thanks to everyone who turned up to enjoy the ride with me, i'm glad you liked it. I'm afraid no ride pictures from me again so words once more.
What a day! A little chilly at the beginning it must be said. I arrived at work to find a behemoth motor home on the car park. Andy? A quick inspection revealed not an Intruder, so maybe not. TedC suggested later in the day that perhaps it was his spare that he tows behind the proper one. Pretty soon riders began to arrive and the kettle began to earn it's keep.
By 1030 a motley crew of riders were assembled, resplendant in lycra and with a whiff of embrocation to boot. And then we were off, the pootlers splitting off after a mile. The lanes were pleasant, the hedges green, the cow slip and wild garlic aromatic and one particular motor-cyclist obnoxious. At this point Edwards had been dropped and had his own personal run-in with said biker (see above)
New phrases were soon to be added to the lexicon of road riding. Never mind 'car up', 'car down', instead think 'hole', 'hole', 'bigger hole', 'gravel', 'lake', ad nausem
The banter was convivial, if sometimes a touch blue, and Ken was hanging on in there.
A swift stop for Ken to buy Lucozade...'i've never tried this before' (he is almost 40) and off we go. Ken hits the front as the sugar takes hold and 10 minutes later, BOOOOOM he's at the back again.
Pretty soon we hit the pave
at pace. Edwards is pleased. There are dark mutterings in relation to pub, food, hunger and 'are we nearly there yet'. Yes we nearly are! We arrive at the pub having put 34 ish miles behind us, and refuelling is required. And so we come to 'cheese-gate', a sordid tale of bread, dairy products, a cyclist in his prime and lets say 'leisurely service'.
Beer consumed, food eaten, ignored or stashed and soon we are leaving the tangled lanes and continuous head-winds of Warwickshire behind us and spinning along the wide boulevard type roads of Leicestershire. I spy a cattle grid! The entourage sneak past the side of it while Grumpy mans up and takes it at speed, and here is where the lesson begins, 'Pride comes before a fall'. Feeling very pleased with himself he dishes out some stick to the others, questions their sexuality, takes his eye of the road for a split-second and promptly rides into the back of Matt. I can feel the rubbing and vibration of rubber against rubber (steady now) and there is nothing i can do except prepare for the inevitable. SPLAT. My companions were very polite and enquired of my general health, while i was expecting and deserved something a little stronger.
Out of Market Bosworth, Robin lights the blue (cheese) touch-paper and the Retrobike hammer is down. And what a last 20 or so miles it was. Truly exhilirating. We are eating the miles at such a rate. Roadies are caught and passed, the rolling hills are gobbled up and we are way over 20 mph for long periods. It is at that this point that Robin admits he quite likes this bit of the ride. A quick stop for urination and we are storming through Sheepy Magna and Atherstone is a stones throw away. Up the Sheepy Road, approaching 3M's and my saddle starts moving up and down. Hmmmmm, that feels odd and then, i suddenly regret my light-hearted bet that Dave would suffer a mechanical, as my rear tyre deflates. Why, when riding fixed, are punctures always to the back wheel? More standing around politeness from everyone, Robin even offers latex gloves (steady now again!).
We limp through Atherstone and then sprint up the last 2.5 mile climb to the brewery, Robin always at the front but like the courteous gentleman that he is, in the little ring. Dave gets lost 0.5 mile from the brewery so i volunteer for the search party.
And that is your lot...thankyou everyone.
P.s Cheers for the frame Weeman
Pps Wheel punctured again this morning so while fixing it, Matt's unrepeatable words are still ringing in my ears and i dutifully clean my drivetrain. Attached pictures for him