An Autumn day in Summer.

A day out with Autumn. Delamere Station, Cheshire.

With many members away in Belgium, Mike, our runs secretary was a little concerned at the prospect of members turning up for the A group ride and finding no one there. I volunteered to meet anyone arriving on the town hall square and decide what to do on the day.

The intended ride was to Henbury but the only ones to arrive for the A ride were two were actually non members, both of whom were so quick I would have been an encumbrance to their enjoyment of a day out. One was quick to see the dire prospect of a day out with a geriatric and declined the ride, the other fit young man did however agree to accompany me in joining the B group ride. As Peter had expressed the need for a guide to Delamere Station through the Cheshire narrow lanes labyrinth I readily agreed to the invitation.

Today we were to be accompanied by Autumn Barlow, a columnist for the fairly new cycling who is gaining widespread recognition for seeking out ‘unusual’ cycling experience’s . Bolton clarion can certainly provide a good deal of that. As Autumn appears on the town hall square she seems to be preoccupied searching out something or some place resorting at last to reading the large town centre map close to our meeting place. Off she goes again seeking what I wonder, Autumn quickly reappears and at last asks the question, ’where are the toilets?’ Costa or McDonalds replies Peter. Again she disappears then suitably relieved returns as we begin the ride across the town hall square. We are interrupted by a shout, this time Autumn discovers she has left her glasses in the toilet and makes a hasty retrieval, little knowing that these events are second nature to our clarion rides.  

With four over seventies on the ride one might think it was a regeneration of ‘Last of the summer wine’ but on wheels, not so. Though we should be at our age be ‘doddering’, it’s not the case, despite the dodgy knees and arthritic complaints the foursome are quite up to riding up to a hundred miles on a summer day. ‘Doctor, I’m finding I’m knackered after doing a hundred miles, what can you prescribe ?

The start to the ride from Bolton and on through Leigh is a little less than exciting  cycling the byways and streets that shout out the bygone industrial age these towns were built on.   Cycling through these suburbs I am wondering all the time what our guest rider may be thinking, not the most impressive surroundings.

Once through Leigh we begin to see a gradual change as we approach Culcheth then down on to Holcroft Lane where open arable landscapes appear, now this more like it.

At Hollins Green a short break is taken and John Martin’s bike does its usual trick of refusing to go any further forcing him to return to Bolton once again.

Warburton Bridge looms ahead and once over this impressive landmark we can say we are truly now in the attractive Cheshire lanes so beloved of cyclists around this area.

The climb up Broomedge brings a surprise as Peter points out that the Willow Pool garden centre is up for sale, ah memories of sumptuous ice cream sundaes and other goodies over the years at the cafe there.

Making our way over a motorway bridge we are passed by a large group of cyclists, cheerful acknowledgments and banter are exchanged, grins are the answer to my remark that they are being unsociable. The odd thing is, once they passed us they adopted the same pace as ourselves so we swing on the back appreciative of the shelter the now large group affords.

The group turn out to be the Nova cycling club, a Manchester based club of many years standing , not as old as our venerable club but still well respected. A conversation with a lady member reveals they are on their annual 75 mile reliability ride over to Tattenhall and their route turns out to the same as ours, until that is, we turn off for our first break at Dones Green. A cheery wave and thank you for the back wheels is acknowledged  as we separate and head for the ‘Let’s Eat Cafe’.

The cafe is busy, not hard to figure that out, the large number of bicycles parked outside indicate that. I, as usual park my bike and head into the cafe, ah, no one queuing making me first of our group to be served.

I was joined at the table by Autumn and I recalled the landmarks we had passed giving a little insight to the ride. I was surprised really by the fact that as a columnist she did little to show any inclination to dig for facts but showed great interest in the ride across Cheshire. I of course asked the questions one usually asks of a new acquaintance, where from, how long but avoiding the killer ‘how old’.

Suitable fed, eggs and bacon, beans etc we make ready for the next phase of the ride to Delamere Station and by now the sun is high and quite hot, lovely, summer is here, along with Autumn.

From Acton Bridge the ride is transformed, for a start there are hills to be climbed, but the hard work is well worth the effort. When I say hard I have to qualify that description as both Autumn and Lambro just romped up the steep hill to Acton Bridge as if they were on a mere pimple whilst the seventy plus guys, all rising to the challenge, spluttered and wheezed their way to the top, no mean feat as I’ve seen far younger legs giving way before now.

The tree lined lanes look magnificent, dappled sunlight lending a touch of magic to the scenery, a cloudless blue sky and the sun reaching its zenith , all contributing to the ‘perfect day’.

Delamere Station, well what a destination on a sun drenched afternoon, little wonder it is so popular with walkers, cyclists and ramblers, the cafe offering refreshment second to none. As it is not too long since egg and bacon at Dones Green, a sweet is a natural choice, after the protein comes the carbs, and mine consist of apple and rhubarb crumble with two scoops of delicious ice cream. A poplar choice of the others is cheesecake, it looks so nice I am greedily eyeing their generous helping.

A nice leisurely break is enjoyed sitting outdoors on the bench seats, another cycling club is also there in numbers, the famous Manchester Wheelers, a name synonymous with the track icon of the forties and early fifties, Reg Harris.

Time to move on and we begin to retrace our route but with a slight detour, returning via Great Budworth, a beautiful old village with black and white timber framed cottages lining the lane through, the red sand stone church at the top of the hill standing proud. Ancient stocks and a shady lane beside the church completes the picture perfectly, a photo call here is a must. Lambro again shows his proficient hill climbing technique and romps up the steep hill through the village quicker than a deer bounding across open moorland, I think we must be boring him with our more sedate gait.

Photo call done and we are already looking to our next port of call a few miles down the road, easy miles at that as we are now on the flat Cheshire plain heading for High Legh and the old village schoolroom. However half a mile or so before the schoolroom is reached a shout from behind indicates a problem, Ray has a puncture. The puncture seems to be a slow one so Peter delves into his bag and produces a co2 canister pump, a quick squirt into the innertube and the tyre is hard again, but for how long, with a shout to Ray to ‘sprint’ before it deflates again, he duly complies and makes it to our tea stop.

 On Sunday afternoons during summer the schoolroom serves as a cafe and is manned on a rotational basis by voluntary groups raising money for their charity or voluntary group. All the food is home made and so good that customers come from miles around, wind rain or blow its popularity never wanes, and today its business as usual.   

Again we relax in the afternoon sun and I begin to note Autumn’s observational quality, she listens intently to our sometimes inane conversation and is quick on the humorous side of comment, I think her success as a columnist is derived from this ability, no notebook and pencil here.

Back on the bikes for the downhill swoop past once more Broomedge and the Willowpool garden centre, it is far more pleasurable passing at speed than grovelling up the other direction. At the very bottom where the lane disappears under the canal bridge the traffic lights are on green for go, a very rare event indeed as most times we are stopped by a red traffic light, I can say with great honesty I can only recall landing on green once before, and it’s many years I have been travelling down here.

On through and over Warburton Bridge again and Ray declares a ‘soft’ tyre again, a change of innertube is now imminent. We gain the village, Hollins Gren and off the busy main road and Ray sets to with the repair. As Ray begins the repair Petr takes off with Autumn to view the unique sign at the village pub inviting all cyclists to use the toilets, no purchase of drink necessary, this has afforded a great relief to many.

Back at the puncture, Ray upends his bike to remove the rear wheel, he then discovers his tools etc are in the rack pack, access only from right way up, he smiles ruefully at me, good job there’s only me there.

Get the bike upright again and remove tools and spare tube, bike upended again and wheel removed, tube changed assistance replacing the tyre, all that’s required now is inflation. Peter eagerly produces the co2 cartridge pump again, inflating a tyre with these gadgets is a piece of cake, err well, most times it is. Instead of a quick inflate peter is quickly deflated as the cartridge proves to be empty, one of those I don’t believe it moments transpires. Poor Ray is reduced to pumping the tyre with a mini pump, now mini pumps take a notoriously long time to fully inflate a tyre, unless of course you have the ability of Superman to move the pump handle at the speed of light, Ray doesn’t have that ability so has to endure a comment of ‘faster Ray’. All taken in good humour, I think.

Autumn seems to be enjoying the moment, no doubt an episode to rival the original Last of the Summer Wine moments.

All we have to look forward to now is the end of the ride, the urban drag to be endured rather than enjoyed but good company helps to shorten the miles.

From feedback off facebook the ride seems to have been enjoyed by all and has been the longest ride of the year for most. For myself I’m happy to have the trademark of summer cycling, milk bottle white body, sun tanned arms and legs where short sleeved tops and shorts leave a sharply defined demarcation, happy days!