Wednesday 29 May 2013

Oh Woe is Me

Forget about Wednesday being named after Wodin, today was all about 'Woe' Getting ready for the ride out, door locked, leg over then, woah! Polar heart rate monitor not working, was, but then it wasn't. Park bike and nip in to change the battery, simple eh, not so, two batteries later no joy. Right I have one on the turbo trainer, I'll use that, more fiddling but hey, we're off. All's well until Leyland, back wheel puncture, glad I'm on fixed, no gears to mess with. Puncture sorted I'm off next through Croston, swanning along nice and easy on the rise to Wrightington and have a brief stop on a bench for a drink. Funny, front tyre seems a bit soft, pump it up, carry on with the drink and play with the gps watch to see what time it is, after pressing a couple of buttons it gives me a blank look, jeeze I don't believe it. Of course I at least know where I am, only use the gps to record ride, distance speed etc. Off again then just as I get out the saddle up a hill into Coppull I feel the front rim touch tarmac, oh woe is me, another puncture. Thankful I carry about four spare innertubes the repair is effected, and I'm off again. I muse on the punctures as I ride, the tyres are in good condition and the roads have been dry, perhaps the bits of flint have been in a while and have only just worked through, but front and back seems a coincidence. My next bit of woe comes shortly after the second repair, I'm bowling along nicely at a brisk cadence when from behind at great speed comes a young lady, knapsack on her back, (valderee valderei) and pushing a huge hear. I resist the temptation to take up the chase, I wouldn't have caught her anyway and content myself with the excuse my chest infection has destroyed any fitness I may have had, I am of course in recovery mode, I'm not having a good day. One thing is in my favour though, a brisk breeze has gained strength and it is situated nicely behind me. As I reach the reservoir before Horwich my spirits are lifted, the youg lady is at the side of the road and she has blown, and not a tyre, I made sure of that and carried on. On reaching home a pot of tea and a jam butty later I check the gps watch to see what is recorded, it seems it just had a flat battery, if it fails again it will join the pulse monitor in the bin!!

Monday 27 May 2013

Is summer really here?

A couple of really nice days

It was with some disbelief that finally we were about to experience at least two days of summer weather starting on Saturday the 25th May. Friday, the 24 was bright enough, lots of sunshine in our area but the winds were so strong it would have been foolhardy to venture out on a bike, well at my age anyway and it was so cold.
Saturday morning arrived, true to the forecast and the wind was a gentle summer breeze, a little cool early morn but you just knew we would feel the warmth of the sun eventually. 
I went into town on my shopping bike, fixed gear of course, suitably attired in fancy cycling pants and short sleeves, principally I was out to collect my pension, Monday being a bank holiday the post office is closed.
Once in town the sun truly was all that had been promised and I joined the happy shoppers enjoying the warmth of the precinct. Short sleeve tops, summer dresses were abundant and as the morning wore on the happy band of shoppers multiplied. 
By mid day the town hall square was teeming, the town hall steps being utilised as seats by young and old alike, for those able to remember the good old days, it was reminiscent of 'WakesWeek', otherwise known as 'Bolton Holidays'.
I did a bit of shopping, did a bit of reading bike mags in Smiths then I actually purchased one, the new edition of Cycling Plus, I had to buy it, it was in a sealed wrapper, somebody's getting wise.
Eventually my thoughts turned to the 'Giro' so I packed my small panniers with the shopping taking care that the Jelly Babies were not squashed, my plans for Sunday included these sweets as my major sustenance. It seems three jelly babies are equal to one of the modern Gels on offer in a multitude of guises, energy, carbohydrate, protein and recovery. Having read that one gel should be consumed every twenty minutes, a six hour ride could be as expensive as bed and breakfast at £1.00. plus for each gel. At ninety nine pence a pack the jelly babies are indeed more than a childish attraction.
I release my locked bike from the lamp post at the front of Smiths and make my way back home up the Middlebrook trail that by now is quite busy with walkers and bikers, one of whom is Bill McFadden, enjoying this truly first day of summer.
A busy afternoon is ahead, feet up and watch the Giro, well it is busy if you are jumping up and down, and after that a brief outing with the flymo and strimmer attacking the overgrown grass that all the rain encouraged to grow. Sweep up, fill the green bin with cuttings and grass, oh my backache, ouch!!
I hope to recover of course during the evening watching the all German Euro Cup Final, boy what a match that turned out to be, an end to end cliff hanger, as a neutral it was a case of may the best side win, as it turned out they both deserved to win.
Sunday morning arrived in a burst of sunlit glory, one of those good to be alive days when you throw the door open and drag lungfuls of fresh air in then set about preparations to get out on the bike.
Not for me the hills of west Yorkshire, I'll leave that to the lads on the A group ride, though they will certainly have the weather for a very scenic route, bombing round that course will be very hard.
For me will be a nice easy ride out to the coast, Southport, the proud boast of 'Sunny Southport' will live up to the advertising today.
I prepare two bottles for the trip, along with the jelly babies I should have energy to get round ok. Heart rate monitor strap is donned, I'm determined not to burn out by working too hard, I had enough of that last week tackling the hills of Pendle, steady state cycling will be the focus today.
Right dressed and ready to go, into the garage for my steed for the day, the fixed gear On One Pompino. Immediately there's a draw back, I have only one bottle cage, drat! The bag mounted is nothing like my carradice camper, so one bottle will have to do, the bottle won't be wasted as the stuff added is also a recovery mix so it will be handy when I return home, at least I have my jelly babies to supplement my reserves.
In my best beautiful retro Campagnolo red short sleeve merino jersey, Campag emblazoned in a broad white panel on the front, I set forth.
On reaching Chorley New road I am surprised to see Peter Moore heading back toward Bolton, seeing him at the last minute he had passed before contact can be made either by a shout or wave. Strange but obviously a good reason as to why will be found later.
With pulse monitor fixed on the bars and my eyes fixed on it, I start at the steady pace I have set myself and sure enough I become cannon fodder for the cyclists sneaking up from behind, I just have to ignore these challenges, stick to the plan, sod to no pain no gain.
The cool of the morning begins to disperse and as I warm up the going becomes easy, riding fixed gear on your own is a real pleasure, especially on a beautiful sun drenched day like today.
Through Chorley and the going gets even easier as I begin the drop down to Leyland and Worden Park. Worden Park, apart from it's pleasant greenery, has the one thing I cannot pass without a call, the toilets, always a big relief to get here.
Beyond the park are the quiet lanes to Croston, but Croston is a bit busier today as cars head for the same destination as myself, Southport. No matter, I am soon on the lane to the rickety bridge, being a mere farm track peace and quiet is returned.
I shatter the quiet on reaching the rickety bridge, all the wooden sleepers replaced by a metal equivalent, but still a resounding racket is made but now in metallic tenor. I look forward to being with a cycling group crossing the bridge, what a wonderful racket that will be.
At Sollom I ride over the canal bridge remembering the day it became a hanging bridge, Brian Timms was forced from the bridge, bike and all by a motorist in a four wheel drive, luckily Brian was caught up in some plastic webbing by his feet. There he was hanging upside down from the bridge, fortunately there was no harm done, either to Brian or the bike and the ride continued with one topic of discussion all the way to Southport.
At Sollom I enter Green lane and I am struck by the brilliant yellow of the rape seed flowers, vast blocks of brilliant yellow fields set against a clear blue sky. As I head toward the car wash cafe I am on the drops as the openness of the arable land offers no shelter from the strong breeze blowing across, and I am riding into it.
Once across the open ground it's not too bad and I choose the cycle path beside the main road down to Banks, from Banks it's a quiet road down to the Botanical Gardens at Churchtown, another welcome stop for relief.
I decide to take a ten minutes or so break and find an empty seat in the flower gardens, unusually though no flowers have yet been planted, the park is still very nice though especially in the sunshine. A drink and jelly babies are my food for the break, the sweets are being rationed out at three every twenty minutes, just about enough to get me home I reckon. Water bottle replenished I make my way to the other windswept lanes that lead over to Burscough, only now the strong summer breeze will be assisting my passage, I am looking forward to the pleasure of coasting along with minimum effort, this is wonderful cycling.
At Rufford the terrain alters dramatically, no more flat open lanes, just steady rising hedge strewn byways heading slowly up to Wrightington Bar.
Just about half way up to Wrightington at the T junction, Bentley Lane- Barmskin Lane, there is a post box and a nicely situated bench, nice enough for a ten minute break and more jelly babies plus drink.
Sitting in the sun, I gaze at the sign Bentley Lane and muse on the catch phrase of the comedian of old Jimmy Edwards in his 'Take it from here' radio show, 'Gently Bentley'. The saying seems appropriate sitting here getting ready for the two big humps to be tackled on my fixed geared steed.
Break over I begin the ride to the top, I crawl over the first big hump and recover a bit before the final push to the top and onto Tunley lane where I am more than glad to be, now the going will be nice and steady again.
On through Coppull then it's more steady rising roads through Adlington finally cresting at the Millstone pub and the reservoir where a brief stop is taken to capture the scenic view across the water of Rivington Pike and Winter hill beyond. The mast on Winter Hill is poking through fluffy white clouds with a deep blue sky as a backdrop, we are lucky to have all this on our doorstep.
I arrive home with three jelly babies to spare and once the bike is stowed they are greedily eaten, washed down with the bottle I was forced to leave behind in the morning, recovery is wonderful, well it will be when my legs are able to carry me upstairs for a shower.
A perfect end to an almost perfect day come as I watch 'Captain Cavtastic Cavendish' take the final stage of the Giro in a dramatic massive bunch sprint, wow! That was some race. Eventually I read my pulse monitor record, an average of 132 beats per minute, exactly what I had set out to do. As easy as the ride was though, I still felt knackered, not quite as tired as the Pendle event but I certainly knew I had been on a bike ride, a pleasurable one at that.     

Monday 20 May 2013

Bolton clarion culture club 20.5.13.

Great night on our social evening, lots of books, lots of fun, lots of gas bagging, boy can cyclists talk, and read apparently. Car window stickers arrived via Peter Moore, looking good. Plans for Bolton Clarion's participation on June the 2nd Sky ride laid, we need volunteers in new clarion tops to confirm attendance. Looks like it could be a good day.
Book night well attended, looks like we'll have to book one of Bolton councils redundant libraries shortly it's so popular. Thanks to members for giving so much support, Bernard Nicholson went away with the star free raffle prize, again, he'll look a real cool cat in those nice cycling shades. Bernard came and went on his bike equipped with saddle pack he's won, front light another raffle prize and a rear light he thinks he got from another draw, but he bought tickets for those. Lots of info from the 100k ride, two punctures stole the limelight, Dave Bisset and Paul Hackin being the stars. Clive Bryan had to ride well clear of everyone due to being radiated with nuclear fission, our very own Homer Simpson, he was rollocked it seems for sitting outside eating sandwiches at the Barley visitor centre, poor lad, well and truly in isolation.

Jelly Babe Circuit of Pendle AKA the 100k reliability.


100k 2013 , Should I or Shouldn’t I?

The first reliability of the year has arrived but I am in a bit of a quandary, my chest infection has eased off considerably but will I manage to get round the short but quite arduous circuit of the mighty Pendle Hill.
I made up my mind to do it and posted my intention on Facebook whereupon David Bisset, also a chest infection sufferer decided if I could do it, so could he.
On reaching the town hall square early  for the 8.30 am start I found two other early birds, Dave Bisset and Steve Garthwright, like me Steve was a little unsure about riding but as he is undertaking a short tour in June he is looking for an increase in fitness..
Eventually more and more arrive meaning a healthy number up for a certificate, it was also quite obvious there would be at least two distinct groups making the circuit of Pendle, the fast lads and three others.
The three others comprised of myself, Dave Bisset and Steve Garthwright, two chest infections and an unfit wannabe fit.
The selection of the two groups were made as we reached the bottom of the first long drag of the day, Bradshaw to the old pub at the top. The fast group disappeared up the road while we, the ‘liability’ group got together at the bottom with Dave the volunteer pace maker. By the time we got to the top I felt I need a pace maker of a different sort, the one that’s inserted in the chest. The downhill bit to Ramsbottom was more that welcome allowing recovery before the climb up to Greenfield where a little break was taken, and, the first appearance of the ‘Jelly Babies’.
Off again on the Rawtenstall to Burnley leg with nice downhill stretches, particularly the old Bull and Butcher one into Burnley, wow, what speed down here, it would be hair raising if I had any.
Through Burnley and the fast drop down past Barden Mill is suddenly brought almost to a standstill at the sudden rise over the motorway bridge. This hill has nearly brought me to my knees time after time, the annoying thing is it looks so innocuous. Steve battles up a little off the pace but as Dave says we’ll rest ‘til he catches up, the lad’s back with us.
We climb out of Fence up the short climb that demands a sudden effort to get round the bend near the top then it is nice and rolling along the lane before the dramatic drop down to Roughlee. A female jogger with a dog on an extendable lead is coming up as I career downward at speed, the dog sees me as a threat and lunges at the bike, boy, we both had a lucky escape. I think these mobile trip wires should be banned.
A bit more gasping and wheezing and Barley visitor centre is thankfully reached, break time. My huge saddlebag is packed with enough stuff to feed a platoon, apart from the two water bottles on the bike I have packed 3 oven bottoms, with jam, a banana, six chocolate wafer biscuits, two apples, a bar of chocolate, a can of coke, a can of recovery drink, all stowed in with spare gloves waterproof spare folding tyre, and that’s not counting the bulging side pockets of my Carradice long flap camper bag. No wonder I am puffing up the hills.
While at Barley my tight chest remind me I have foolishly left at home my drugs, namely my asthma reliever, gosh and I am about to climb alongside of the mighty Pendle Hill next, the very thought has me out of breath.
After a decent break I hand out the jelly babes again anf off we go, Dave for some reason or other is clock watching, having decided to score the longest time ever doing our 100k perhaps he is having second thoughts.
Leaving Barley we are immediately on the long climb out and just as quickly I engage ‘Granny Ring’, ok fastlads when you get to seventy five you too will be looking for Granny.
Dave is away up ahead while I, despite being at the side of Lancashire’s most beautiful sight see nothing but tarmac, glancing occasionally up the road at more tarmac wondering when the end will be in sight. Steve is behind me content to also engage a manageable low gear. At the top we are together again with another dramatic drop in front of us, the scenery in front of us is equally dramatic, the Ribble Valley and the hills of the Yorkshire Dales unfold before us.
All too soon the view is gone, descending at speed in the direction of Rimmington, another of Lancashire’s famous beauty spots, before we get there however another pig of a climb must be overcome, short but sweet as they say.
Now if you do not pass the white chapel with the sundial on the wall, you have not completed the 100k route, think about it you guys, did you?
After Rimmington comes Downham, truly god’s own village, a sight to be savoured and photographed too. The day may be overcast but the beauty of the village is in no way demeaned and we drink it all in as we take another short break and more jelly babes. As we pose on the ancient village bridge a guy who is a keen runner around here takes a photo of the three of us on the bridge with the attractive church high on the hill in the background.
Next on our Pendle circuit is another Lancashire gem that has hit the headlines recently for all the wrong reasons, without wanting to ‘speak’ about why, Pendleton village is such an attractive place.
The country lanes take us next to Whiswell, pronounced locally as ‘Wizzell’ and from here it is another nice easy downhill stretch to Whalley.
As usual I bomb down the hill with nary a backward glance, save for a quick look behind as we reach the busy main road we have to cross to continue the downward swoop, I am lucky, a break in the traffic allows me to cross safely.
On reaching Whalley I pause at a spot we use to regroup, out of my saddlebag comes the can of coke, very welcome it is too, and I drink while looking back up the road for Dave and Steve, no, they’re missing.
After a while I realise a problem must have arose and continue to wait, while gazing up the road a group of cyclists are heading toward me, are they among this lot. The jerseys begin to look familiar, Bolton clarion tops dominate and I realise that they are the ‘fast lads’, our lot, I am gobsmacked.
With shouts of recognition and cheery arm waving they carry on and I am left to finish my can of coke.
Eventually it is make your mind up time, finish the cokedeposit the can in the dustbin and begin to retrace back through Whalley to search for the lost boys. I have no sooner set off when two cyclists appear heading toward me, we pause again and the tale of the puncture begins, punctuated by the appearance once more of the jelly babes. Dave declares once more ‘it is the law to eat the heads off first’ before devouring the the body in double quick time.
Now we have the long laborious trundle up to Wilpshire after which another easy stretch into Blackburn, beyond then is the dreaded Bull Hill, what purgatory awaits today?
I have been riding all day with my pulse monitor on, the idea being not to over stretch myself on the climbs of the day, that went out of the window early, as early as Tonge Moor actually, never mind we’ll see what happens up the monster.
We are more or less together up to half way, at the cemetery the road kicks up a little more and I change down a gear, I think Dave was waiting for the moment, as my speed dropped he shot past with a whoop, the swear word ‘bastard’ never really left my lips but it was in my head.
I plugged on, ‘wait ‘til my chest infection is over Bisset and I have a few puffs of  salbutomol, I’ll get my own back’. Back to the trudge I check my pulse rate from time to time, jeeze I’m working harder than I do on a time trial and hardly moving, 182, 183, 185, and still rising, bugger it, just keep going. Steve has dropped off again but Dave has waited at the top so we once more celebrate the ascent with another jelly babe, head first of course. Dave pleads with me not to die yet as a bout of coughing besets me, wait until we get into town.
Now for the real excitement, the downhill rush virtually all the way into Bolton, a mere pimple at Dunscar bottom to overcome, as Steve said, in our younger days we would use our momentum and sprint to the top, but then that was a while ago. However it is nice to get over the last bump, the feeling of ‘I’ve done it’ is there even before entering the town hall square. We arrived back at 3.30 pm bang on, six hours after setting off, not bad when you consider all three of us had set out to ‘attempt’ the ride not knowing the outcome due to our own problems, chest infections and general unfitness. Taking stock as well of our leisurely breaks on route, we have done well on our ’Jelly Babe Circuit’
Dave treated us to a Costa Coffee as we recovered on the marble slabs while discussing our problems prior to the ride, we had all arose that morning with a ‘suck it and see’ philosophy, we had all succeeded.          

Wednesday 8 May 2013

Bank Holiday delight


Bank Holiday Relaxation

Another Bank Holiday crept up on me without me knowing, how so? Well after a month of coughing, visits to the doc’s, and drowning in self pity I had little time to focus on holiday weekends.
The intrusion of a spell of welcome summer weather lifted my spirits, the Bank holiday Monday being the first truly fine day for us hardy northerners. Such an opportunity to enjoy it could not be missed.
Still nursing my, almost beloved by now, chest infection, I planned a trip over to Higher Walton and the Bon Appetit cafe there. My route would be nice, almost traffic free, and picturesque.
Into Lever Park Avenue and I am inspired by the area we, as local cyclists take for granted, an area of natural beauty, or as Ordnance Survey would abbreviate, AONB. 
With a light summer breeze and the sun on my back I drift through Rivington, past the Barn and the village green, down to the reservoirs followed by a right turn into The Street at Horrobin Cottage. It’s is very quiet today, who would think it was a Bank Holiday with just a couple of dog walkers on this very attractive lane by the reservoir.
Out of The Street and onto Back Lane, again it’s quiet, this time just a couple of horse riders to divert my attention from the sheer enjoyment of the day, to which was added the pleasure of being able to dress in short sleeve top and shorts, both lycra of course.
I enjoy the rapid swoop and shade as I pass under the mighty motorway bridge feathering my front brake as I synchronise my rapid moving legs with the fixed gear of the rear wheel. I flash back into the sun emerging from the shadows of the bridge, momentum carrying me up the slight rise to the T junction at Limbrick.
At the top of the hill that comes out of Cowling the sign indicating the canal side route to Botany Bay is there and now is a designated cycle route.
The canal path is a bit busier than any part of my route up to now, dog walkers, walkers and the odd cyclist or two, one of whom made my day.
I had just reached the bridge before Botany Bay and slowed as the cyclist on a mountain bike in front of me dismounted and began to kick his back wheel furiously, once, twice, three times before wheeling his bike forward under the bridge. Naturally I viewed with some amusement and passed aside to the guy, ‘if it won’t move, hit it’, he smiled and accepted my offer of assistance. All that was wrong was a loose wheel nut on the drive side of his back wheel. A simple job for the spanner that I carry for the same reason, tightening loose nuts. The guy was just out for a morning spin enjoying the beautiful morn, no tools, no pump, no spares, what could possibly go wrong on a day like today. I smiled inwardly, a good deed done, a good deed appreciated loudly.
Nearing the Top Lock pub at Wheelton the towpath was considerably busier as walkers made their way to the popular spot, no doubt anticipating a shandy or two, too early for me as I left the canal at this point and continued to Top O’th Lane.
It’s a bit of a pull on fixed gear up to Top O’th Lane along the shady tree lined lane that comes out by the side of a noisy motorway but, I manage quite well, slow but sure.
After Brindle I can look forward to a nice long downhill through Gregson Lane, summer breezes blowing on what used to be flowing locks of hair, my bald head now being a useful aero attachment. This is the life, bowling along, legs a blur, with the front brake feathered occasionally for control, blue sky and a warm sun on my back as I speed along heading to a pot of tea and a bacon barm.
A look at my heart rate monitor tells me I’m still alive and kicking and after a break of 45 minutes it tells me I’m ready to go, again, but after deciding I’m leaving via the steep hill, short but sharp up to Bamber Bridge I’m not too sure. I hate setting off after a break at any time but when there’s a hill straight away I dread it.
The weather is still warm and fine and as I do not intend to kill myself on the way home I will continue to enjoy the ride, even the chest infection is behaving, very little coughing up to now, perhaps it is enjoying the summer breeze as well.
Eventually I am on the well trodden A6 accompanied by years and years of memories, times as a young lad hanging on the back of a group, times when I could not, and times when I have been the strongest on the ride, the A6 never fails to stir the old grey cells.
I reach the top of the hill by the Mormon church and take another break, a nice stone flag at a gate serves nicely as a comfortable seat in the sun. I sit quietly and idly observe the passing traffic, quite light really, unlike the adjacent motorway where from a bridge I saw the usual Bank Holiday scene of hundreds of cars crawling along with drivers still convinced they were out for a nice drive. Occasionally a lycra clad lad or two would pass looking for all the world like they were training, suffering they may have been, but not as much as the drivers stuck on the motorway.
 Two gels and a few long swigs from my bottle and I am ready for the easy drop into Chorley, opting to take the ‘old A6’ instead of the new whacky race track that is supposedly a town bypass, a real pleasure and stress reliever after the short main road stretch. Easing down into the town centre I am struck by the central reservation overflowing with tulips, a considerable attraction to the old road as it reaches the park opening to Astley Hall.
Leaving Chorley behind I have a feeling I’m almost home, not far to go now and the long drags up to Adlington and the Millstone pub are hardly a distraction as I continue to ride easily and slowly.
As ride beside the reservoir I reflect how few cyclists I have seen, perhaps eight or nine at the most all day. An elderly couple leisurely making their way to a canal side picnic spot, a mountain biker getting a kick out of his morning ride, two or three gliding past the cafe as I enjoyed my lunch and the couple of boy racers shooting past the Mormon church while I rested up. Cycling may well be on the up again but today I’m wondering where they all where.
I arrive home happy with the short ride I’ve done but as I relax with a drink, tea of course, the cough returns, ah well at least I had respite during the ride so it must have done me good.

Wednesday 1 May 2013

National Clarion Track Champs

Entries to the National Clarion Track champs are now open on the British Cycling website. 
There are 2 groups of 24 riders as in previous years.
 
Venue:-  National Cycling Centre, Manchester
 
Date:-  6th July 1pm till 5pm
 
Entries by following this link
 
https://www.britishcycling.org.uk/events/details/90593/National-Clarion-Track-Championships-2013#summary

Construction Trucks face Cycle Safety Law Threat

Have a look at the attached article Construction Trucks face Cycle Safety Law Threat.