Rest in peace kaya

longun

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Vern lost his fight with cancer this evening, matthew has posted in the areas section and I'm adding it here aswell.

He was a lovely soul who was friendly, down to earth, honest, made the best slow gin and always had a tale to tell them we had rides

I'll never forget the weekend spent at Snowden living in the van and feeling like a teenager again the night before we rode up a mountain ;) as well as the countless rides around Yorkshire and the peaks

Properly gutted and I've learned an valuable lesson recently to make the most of everything no matter what and make memories that live forever

See you in the moors again buddy (but probably after a long climb as per uncle verns usual routes)

Use this thread to post memories, pictures or messages.

X
 
that's terrible, i didn't actually know he was ill. i met him a few times when we did the national ride series, really good guy, that's such a shame.

ride in peace Vern
 
Such terrible news. Vern has always been a stand out retrobiker for me, always great fun on the rides we did and such a memorable bloke. RIP Kaya, one of the really good 'uns.
 
Vern and I had been exchanging Private Messages for a good while now - in the somewhat unique way that people can when they share an illness and its treatment :rolleyes:.

Crikey, this brings my situation all a bit closer, although it would appear that I still have something left in the tank yet.

Thinking of you now mate, and it seems an appropriate time to slip down one of your little home made pressies that you sent me :cool:.

Pip. x
 
I cannot remember the first time I met Vernon Booth. Looking back through photographs it looks like it was a long time ago. We certainly looked much younger.
Vern was one of those people that brought people together. I’m blessed to have so many friends that he brought to the table, friends that will last a lifetime, and collectively will be a constant reminder of what a beautiful soul we are mourning today.
We are all very fortunate to have had so many adventures together: epic days in the sun, post beer festival hangover rides, miserable slogs over rain drenched moors, getting lost on trails that were overgrown and impassable. But nothing fazed him, every minute on a bike was always something to be savoured, no matter how pear shaped things went. He would shrug it off and call it oldskool riding. If we take any lessons from his life, it is that no matter what is thrown in front of you, you drop your saddle and hit it as hard as possible.

One particular memory has been rattling around my head this morning. A big day out on Cut Gate. Old fully rigid bikes and 30 miles already under our belts. Two younger gentlemen reached the summit on Orange Fives, fully kitted with armour, ready for the long rocky descent back to Langsett. Vern waited until they were out of sight and mustered the troops to go get em.
They were soon caught and passed with a cheery ‘just squeeze past you there mate’. The look on their faces was a sight to be seen. The frantic pace continued along the full trail, rocks pinging off everywhere mile after mile, absolutely pushing it to the limit.
On reaching the end of the trail, the realisation that we were counting on cantilever brakes, rigid forks and old tyres suddenly dawned on me. That bloody thing was not slowing down. It got steeper and more washed out, the bike was just bouncing all over and I was just hanging on with a look of terror on my face. This was not going to end well.
At this point Vern shot past me, off the brakes, smooth as silk. ‘Get off the brakes, speed is your friend!’ He pulled up down by the bottom gate, I ended up in the heather wondering if the Air Ambulance would be able to find somewhere to put down. That was Vern personified. Absolutely fearless.
He had the same attitude in the last few years of his life. He just got on with it. I saw him just before Christmas. Almost unrecognisable, frail and tired. But that spark, that twinkle in his eye showed the world that he was still in there, still off the brakes, flat out on his final descent. Cancer is f**king horrible, but it met it’s match with Vernon Booth.

We are all today picking ourselves up out of the heather. Vern is waiting for us by the gate. There will be more trails waiting for us when our time comes.

Get some rest now pal

Si
 

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I cannot remember the first time I met Vernon Booth. Looking back through photographs it looks like it was a long time ago. We certainly looked much younger.
Vern was one of those people that brought people together. I’m blessed to have so many friends that he brought to the table, friends that will last a lifetime, and collectively will be a constant reminder of what a beautiful soul we are mourning today.
We are all very fortunate to have had so many adventures together: epic days in the sun, post beer festival hangover rides, miserable slogs over rain drenched moors, getting lost on trails that were overgrown and impassable. But nothing fazed him, every minute on a bike was always something to be savoured, no matter how pear shaped things went. He would shrug it off and call it oldskool riding. If we take any lessons from his life, it is that no matter what is thrown in front of you, you drop your saddle and hit it as hard as possible.

One particular memory has been rattling around my head this morning is a big day out on Cut Gate. Old fully rigid bikes and 30 miles already under our belts. Two younger gentlemen reached the summit on Orange Fives, fully kitted with armour, ready for the long rocky descent back to Langsett. Vern waited until they were out of sight and mustered the troops to go get em.
They were soon caught and passed with a cheery ‘just squeeze past you there mate’. The look on their faces was a sight to be seen. The frantic pace continued along the full trail, rocks pinging off everywhere mile after mile, absolutely pushing it to the limit.
On reaching the end of the trail, the realisation that cantilever brakes, rigid forks and old tyres dawned on me. That bloody thing was not slowing down. It got steeper and more washed out, the bike was just bouncing all over and I was just hanging on with a look of terror on my face. This was not going to end well.
At this point Vern shot past me, off the brakes, smooth as silk. ‘Get off the brakes-speed is your friend!’ He ended up down by the bottom gate, I ended up in the heather wondering if the Air Ambulance would find somewhere to put down. That was Vern personified. Absolutely fearless.
He had the same attitude in the last few years of his life. He just got on with it. I saw him just before Christmas. Almost unrecognisable, frail, tired. But that spark, that twinkle in his eye showed the world that he was still in there, still off the brakes, flat out on his final descent. Cancer is ******* horrible, but it met it’s match with Vernon Booth.
We are all today picking ourselves up out of the heather. Vern is waiting for us by the gate. There will be more trails waiting for us when our time comes.

Get some rest now pal

Si

Lovely words Si
 
I’ll never forget this ride

Just me and Big Vern on an adventure back in 2011

Here are my thoughts on that eventful ride

Kaya's Killer Loop

In a slight change to our normal programming due to a technical hitch 'Plan B' was hastily formed.

After meeting Kaya at the carpark and chatting for a bit we decided to actually pay for our car park tickets and have a wander round to see who else had turned up

Just Kaya and myself for this epic then

I unload the bike from the car and start to do up the allen key skewer on the front wheel

'Snap' followed by 'boing... rattle rattle' as the nut shears and lands about 3 feet away & off goes the spring AWOL never to be seen again...

Shit, I just snapped my front skewer :evil:

Well that's it, game over :roll:

....or not...

Seen as it was only Kaya and myself we decided to still carry on with a ride, a proper Plan B of a ride.

First things first, a detour to Chez Kaya for a spare front skewer so that I can actually ride my damn bike!

Then another short journey in the cars back into the moors to actually start this ride :LOL:

We started off at Scaling Dam Reservoir and did over 23 miles of moorland, farmland and minor roads, passing through Lealholm, Glaisdale, Fryup, Ainthorpe and Danby.

We also passed through a herd of rather bemused cattle, I think Kaya was a sheepdog in a previous life, boy can he can herd cattle :LOL:

With over 2200 ft of climbing it was one hell of a killer loop for me

GPS route log here: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/104781395

Excellent day on the bikes all things considered :LOL:

I am absolutely shattered!

Massive thanks to Kaya for keeping me going with the skewer, leading the route which was epic & also for keeping me going with the near constant conversation which kept my mind off the fact that my legs died after the near 5 mile climb up to the highest point of the route which was only 11 miles into the 23 mile route!
 
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Just read your words again Si, describes Vern down to a tee, I'll always treasure the memories I have of him and I'm proud to have had him as a friend!

You're an absolute poet Si, that's likely the most apt and moving post I've read all day 💔
 
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