Tale from
'The Rivington'
Damsel in
distress.
Out today
on my 26 mile circuit of Coppull and Rivington, fixed gear again, my
steed of choice today was my superlight Viscount Aerospace retro
bike.
After a
fortnight of stagnation designated by dreary grey wet weather during
which I have been on a spree of thick toasty loaves and crumpets
spread generously with Anchor butter, broke only by a brief spell of
the dry stuff when I managed to fit in a ride to Red house farm for a
delicious cream tea. I was out to jack myself into the real world of
cycling masochism by doing a programme of all out sprints, ok, so a
78 year old can't sprint, but I can try can't I?
On my
circuit are a number of climbs, some short and sharp, some a bit
longer, so I utilise these on my low to medium fixed gear for short
all efforts. Pitiful as these efforts are my heart rate monitor
either lies or tells the truth, one maximum effort today brought a
reading of 192, once described by a friend as 'directory enquiries'.
With lots and lots of recovery time taken between these sprints,
alright, efforts, my average speed reads as something less that
average for the 'average' cyclist.
A well
earned pot of tea is welcome as I reach The Rivington tea room, which
as I arrive full to capacity with cyclists from the Tuesday/Thursday
gang, otherwise know as 'the old lags'. The place is a hubub of noisy
chatter which will miraculously subside at the stroke of 12 pm as
most will arise without order and troop out the door.
Today
there was a damsel in distress event whereby the uniform exit from
the tearoom stalled. Karen, a very able young lady, discovered a
puncture in her front wheel and began a lengthy repair job. Finding
she needed tyre levers she came back in the room where a gentleman
cyclist handed her the requisite levers from his kit then resumes
his coffee and conversation on the table. Karen soon had an audience
gazing on through the window as she wrestled with tyre and tube but
help was soon at hand as the old lags left the tearoom en masse. At
once she was surrounded by five willing helpers, old lags are nothing
if not helpful at the plight of a lady in distress. Odd as it may
sound it seemed many hands did not make light work as ten of them all
wanted to fondle the tyre and errant and new innertubes but
eventually all worked out and all were on their way home.
Just as
this event was ending I saw the arrival of a Bury clarion member,
John Yates, father of the now famous twins Simon and Adam, now of the
Orica Greenedge pro team. Sparkling conversation was now a certainty.
The twins
are much of an aside when John and I get together and straight away
the craic starts. Funny stories and dark humour keep us entertained
for some while, just a bit of serious stuff now and again keeps
things on an even keel. The twins, grown up as they are are still
giving John the runaround, perhaps more so than ever but he is loving
it.
As we
left the cafe for home the higher than seasonal temperature was
dropping quite sharply, just as forecast, perhaps winter is finally
on the way.
