The Ginger Menace Strikes

RIDE LONDON 100 MILE SPORTIVE - 2ND AUGUST 2015

In July I received my start time and start details for Ride London. My start time would be 7.30 am and my number was 30205.

It wasn't as good a number as say 72 but 30205 was MY number.

It was starting to feel real now. I had a number and everything. This was actually going to happen.

I felt that physically I was ready. On a club ride Hannah, who does triathlons asked me if I was "tapering"  or basically reducing my training load prior to the big event.

That seemed a little too professional for me but on second thoughts was a great excuse for all kinds of questionable behaviour.

Cream cake ? Yes please I'm tapering.
A few beers ? Yes please I'm tapering.
Cocaine and hookers ? Yes please I'm tapering.

OK maybe that's stretching it a bit. Definitely no cream cakes.

I now started to obsess about other things like the logistics of the trip and in particular if the bike was in good condition.

I morphed into a bike hypochondriac.

What is that noise ? Where is it coming from ? Does the chain need changing? Are any components worn ? Do they need changing ?

Like an over anxious new mum with a new born baby I had that bike into the bike shop on several occasions to have it checked out and then back again because I was hearing funny noises.

By the way new mums, don't take your new born baby to the bike shop, it was just a metaphor and it's not the right place.

In the end I decided not to ride my Specialised for a week before the event to eliminate the risk of new faults developing and because I was mentally exhausting myself worrying about every little rattle and squeak coming out of it.

The Missus would be coming down to London with me. Annette had originally applied to do Ride London herself. I had secretly hoped she wouldn't get in because selfishly I wanted her to look after me.

" I hope you don't get in" I said to her " I need you to look after me" 

OK maybe it wasn't that secret after all.

"What do you mean look after you ?!"

"Well, you have got to be my soigneur when I go down there. I need you for physical and emotional support and to possibly run a few errands for me. That's the situation. Deal with it ! "

"In fact you can start now" I continued, pushing my luck "My shoulders are a bit tight darling, a nice shoulder massage would be much appreciated"

"Hang on a minute darling, I think you are mixing up massaging and strangling ...Arrrghhh ! "

So apart from the one incident of attempted murder that all went rather well. That's exactly how it went down and once I'd bought the engagement ring she was fully on board.

DEPART FOR LONDON

 

We were staying at the Premier Inn on the Olympic Park in Stratford. As the event was starting from the Olympic Park there was going to be no problem getting to the start the next morning.

Packing up the car for the trip down was a bit of a military operation checking the bike and accessories were stowed as well as kit, clothes, GoPro, etc. 

However when I came to check the GoPro there was a problem. I was planning to record the whole ride for which I needed a spare SD memory card and spare batteries. These would need to be changed over at some point on the ride. 

The spare SD card had gone missing. I didn't understand where it could have gone as I had laid everything out the night before. The guilty party soon presented himself.

Chester helping with enquiries

"Was it you ?! " I boomed at the suspect " Where have you put it ?!" I continued trying to put the frightners on.

"Alan he is a cat" said Annette "He is not going to crack under questioning" 

"Oh I don't know love he looks guilty as hell to me give me another 5 minutes with him and I'll have a confession"

"Have you looked under the table that's where he normally deposits things he's stolen"

And lo, that's where it was complete with teeth marks. However I had it in a plastic sleeve so the card itself looked OK. No need to test it I thought. A decision that would come back to bite me (pun intended)

Chester was bang to rights and his punishment was prison for 3 days. 

Chester In Prison With His Cell Mate

After Annette had dropped the cats off at the cattery we got on the road for the trip down to London.

I really hoped that this time my experience of London would be a good one. I don't want to be down on our nation's capital but over the years I have found London to be an expensive, overcrowded shit hole.

When I get on the tube for the first 30 seconds I find the experience new and exciting. When the novelty has worn off after 31 seconds I just find it a giant pain in the arse. From the moment I arrive in London normally I just can't wait to go home. I think there is a name for this type of attitude ..oh yes..it's called "being a northerner".

 "No it's not called "being a northerner" " replied Annette as I reminded her of my opinions on the way down " It's called being a "miserable bastard" ! "

"No I'm not having you saying " I want to go home" as soon as we get down there" she continued "You might be going down there for a bike ride but I want a nice weekend away and you are not going to ruin it for me ! "

Bit touchy.

FINAL PREPARATIONS & LEAD UP TO THE RIDE

 

We arrived in London at about 4 pm on the Friday after a predictably tiresome journey where the only highlights were an attempted picnic that was aborted due to wasp attack and a flurry of merriment when we saw a sign for Trumpington.

"Hey look at that. Fancy living in a place called " Trump......ington ! "  "

Oh yes the long winter evenings fly by in our house.

There was time on the Friday evening to get to the Excel Centre to register for the ride and pick up my numbers, final instructions and Ride London kit bag.

Words Fail Me

During Saturday we scouted out the starting area, checked out where I had to be and did some touristy stuff looking around the Olympic Park. 

 By the way the Arcelormittal Orbit .....why ? 

In the afternoon Annette went shopping and I sat in the hotel room in my underpants watching rugby league on the TV, being northern and formulating my plan for the ride the next day.

I wanted to get round as fast as possible both in terms of moving speed and overall time. This meant avoiding getting bogged down at feeding stations. 

Hence, I would carry all the food I needed with me. 

As far as water was concerned there would be 2 big bidons on the bike. This would not last the whole ride so I had to pick a spot where I was going to refill my water.

There was a drinks station at the top of Box Hill that was 69 miles into the ride. I could make my water last that far and then refill at the top of Box Hill.

Annette Pins My Number On - That's The Spirit !

Another consideration was the start. 

I was going to be waiting at the start for a good hour before I got going. 

To stop me using my precious reserves of water on the bike if I had a small bottle of mineral water in my back pocket I could wet the whistle if I needed to whilst waiting. It could also serve as an emergency water supply on the ride.

Another thing to obsess about was the contents of my saddle bag. The bike was fitted with a large saddle bag. It was bursting with stuff. 

Hundreds of inner tubes (OK , four ), CO2 inflator & canisters, tyre irons, multi tool, Go Pro batteries, SD card, spoke key, chain splitter and spare links. 

I have never used a chain splitter in my life but I had one in that bag.

After Box Hill there would have to be one more stop to change the GoPro battery and SD card. That would surely be just a 5 minute job and I would play that by ear....... 

In terms of pace I knew I had to avoid my usual rookie mistake of going too fast too soon. There would be plenty of people blasting past and I didn't want to get suckered into trying to keep up with people who were far better than me.

In the calmness of the hotel room sat there in my underpants the logical approach would be to ride within myself up to the top of Box Hill and then empty the tank over the last 30 miles.

OK I had a plan. Now all I had to do was execute it.

THE START

A Throng Of Cyclists

The alarm was set for 4.45 am. I didn't need it. I was already awake.

At 6.15 I was fed, watered and ready to go at the front of the hotel.

All that remained was for Annette to take a photograph of me looking anxious and I was off for the 5 minute ride to the start line.

By 6.30 I was in my allotted start pen taking the first of my many photographs of a throng of cyclists.

The Legs Of A Throng Of Cyclists

As I had an hour to wait I tried to sit down as much as possible on the curb to rest my legs. I began taking the first of my many photographs of the legs of a throng of cyclists.

After 30 minutes they started to move us towards the start line where there was the obligatory DJ come MC blasting out music and talking like Smashy and Nicey.

Smashy announced (or was it Nicey ?) that we had some celebrities starting in my wave.

Would they be "A" listers ? 

John Inverdale ( BBC presenter ), Sam Bailey ( X Factor winner -2013 ) and Jenny Faulkner ( TV presenter ) .

Going Over The Start - John Inverdale Is Close By !

The fact that I had to put who they were in brackets tells you that they were a lot further down the alphabet than "A".

And then at 7.30 am on the dot my wave was started, I rolled across the start line and my Ride London experience was under way.

THE FIRST 69 MILES

I had ridden in mass participation events before but immediately the big difference of this event was apparent.

Going The Wrong Way Down A Dual Carriageway !

After a couple of minutes I found myself on the A12, a major arterial dual carriageway going to the heart of London surrounded only by fellow cyclists.

This was weird. Was it a trap ?

Were we only being lulled into a false sense of security before the cars, lorries and buses made a surprise appearance and mowed us down ?

Well I certainly wouldn't be doing this event again if that was the case and Boris would get a sharply worded letter.

I needn't have worried. It was not a trap.

It did take some getting used to not looking out for vehicles particularly when we went through underground and tunnel sections of this major road.

I had never been in a road tunnel except when driving a car.
 

This Is Different

Once at the north bank of the Thames the ride moved west past the Tower of London, St Paul's Cathedral and The Strand before popping out into Trafalgar Square.

The iconic names just kept on coming. Pall Mall, Piccadilly, Knightsbridge. Was I on a bike ride or a massive Monopoly board ?

Yes I know Knightsbridge is not on a Monopoly board.

Then further out into West London the ride crossed the Thames at Chiswick Bridge and shortly thereafter the urban and city scape was replaced with the green open spaces of Richmond Park.

I looked down at my Garmin which told me I was already at the 20 mile mark.

Wow, that had gone by in the blink of an eye.

Going into the park naturally slowed everybody down. It was time to get some food and drink down. I chomped away on the first of my energy bars. A bar at every 20 mile mark was the plan. Pretty soon I would be sick of these energy bars but anything to keep the dreaded cramp away.

Coming Onto Trafalgar Square

The pace had been frenetic and I was going way too fast. There would be a reckoning down the road if I kept this up.

However, whilst my brain was fully cognoscente of this fact the message was not getting through to my legs to knock it off a bit.

There had been a mutiny in my body, something else was in control.

As my bike handling is so poor I knocked it off a bit for food and drink to avoid a crash. Then it was back to the wholly inadvisable pace I was doing.

Exiting Richmond Park I pressed on to Kingston and Molesey going through Hampton Court Park where I saw my first prostrate cyclist of the day. She was being tended to by paramedics in the middle of the road.

The terrain was pan flat here so she must have come to grief by a touch of wheels.

Note to self. Do not fall off.

Richmond Park

I certainly didn't want a ride in the air ambulance that was landing on my right as I pedaled into Molesey.

Walton On Thames and Weybridge were next with good natured crowds lining the route followed by Byfleet, West Byfleet, Ripley and West Horsley.

After West Horsley at the 44 mile mark the ride started to move into more hilly terrain.

The Newlands Corner climb on the A25 between West Horsley and Gomshall was a wake up call. A one mile climb with an average gradient of 5 % . As I coasted down the other side having set the 15893rd fastest time on this Strava segment I was feeling stressed for the first time on the ride.

Air Ambulance Landing On The Right

I looked down at the Garmin and as the total distance covered hit 50 miles the ride time was almost exactly 2 hours and 30 minutes.

Whilst my brain was not in control of what my legs were doing it was still able to work out that I had just done 50 miles at an average speed of 20 mph.

Absolutely a personal best but surely suicidal.

I knew Leith Hill was coming up around the 57 mile mark so now when it was too late I decided to start conserving some energy.

The next climb up to Holmbury St Mary took it out of me as well. This was a gradual climb over 3 miles and when I pressed the accelerator to go faster there was less and less oooommf there. My turbo lag was getting longer and longer until it was ...just plain old lag really.

A rider who perhaps was feeling the same way as me asked

"Was that Leith Hill mate ?"

"I am afraid not pal" I replied "That is still to come"

Once through Forest Green there was a sharp left hander and that was it we were on the Leith Hill climb.

Leith Hill - Not Much Banter Up This One !

1.4 miles with an average gradient of 6.5 % and a maximum of 12 %. I wasn't expecting it to be easy but equally I wasn't expecting it to be as hard as it was.

There was no chance of me scampering up this like a mountain goat. I stuck it in the bottom gear and ratcheted my way up. There was a lot of people suffering on that climb. No banter. No chit chat. Just the sound of creaking bikes and creaking cyclists no doubt wondering why they were doing this.

Things got a little tight for space at times with the narrow lane, the field bunching up and the odd person pushing their bike.

The top of Leith Hill was a welcome sight and came in the nick of time for me as I started to feel some warning signs for cramp in the legs.

"Well that's what happens legs"  I scolded myself  "when you disobey direct orders from the brain."

There was now an 8 mile down hill section (mostly) running through Abinger down to Westcott and Dorking. Time to recover or try and recover at any rate before Box Hill came along.  I tried to shake my legs to loosen them off as that's what I see the pros doing on the TV.

All I achieved in doing that was to veer across the road alarmingly so I stopped doing that.

The ride was returning to more built up areas now and going through the town centres with the roads barriered and the public clapping was pretty cool.

Box Hill was upon me all too soon.  I was pretty keen to get to the top and get off the bike as my arse was killing me now. 69 miles without a stop was enough for me. However I knew that I was still at risk as far as cramp was concerned and there was no way I was going to be tempted into standing on the pedals.

Box Hill - Call That A Hill ?

It seemed everybody was going past me on that hill as I stayed sat down in an easy gear and just made steady serene progress. My experience in the Tour De Yorkshire was uppermost in my mind. I was not going to stop part way up this hill with a cramp attack and cry like a baby on the side of the road.

In Yorkshire I don't think they'd even call Box Hill a hill. It would be a pimple or a mound or perhaps a lump. They probably have cracks in the pavement with a higher elevation in Yorkshire.

It was certainly nothing to be concerned about which was a great relief to me and my failing legs. At the top I rolled into the drinks station and dismounted much to the relief also of my derriere.

Drinks Station Top Of Box Hill

I had just about exhausted my 2 bidons so the timing was just right. Annoyingly I hadn't touched the small bottle of mineral water in my back pocket and therefore I had just carried it unnecessarily around with me for 69 miles.

After refilling my bidons and a quick comfort break I was on my way again. With only a third of the ride left to go I was already tasting all the forbidden foods I was going to tuck into when this thing was over.

I'M GONNA KILL THAT CAT

 

From the top of Box Hill there was a 5 mile down hill run to get to Leatherhead. There was opportunity to get the average speed back up again. This is where I hit my maximum speed of the ride which was a very conservative 43 mph.

There were many people doing a banzai on this stretch. Not for me thank you.

Banzai Section To Leatherhead

However, occasionally the road did kick up again and when it did it was clear that I was not firing on all cylinders. On the flat I could get my speed up to 20 mph but as soon as a hill ( or gentle upward slope ) came along and I had to push harder my speed was coming right down.

To continue the engine metaphor my engine management warning light was on and I was in safe mode to get home.

Hello Good People Of Leatherhead

When the ride time had reached 4 and a half hours I was looking out for my GoPro battery to run flat. This was a slightly precarious business to keep looking down at the camera to see if it was still on whilst surrounded by so many other cyclists.

Eventually I clocked that the camera was off and I pulled to the side at the 80 mile mark just after Oxshott.

I would change the SD card as well as there was not enough memory left to record the rest of the ride. It was a bit fiddly and thank heavens it wasn't raining but eventually battery and SD card were changed and I switched on......what's this ?!

The camera was displaying an error message " SD ERR " and it wouldn't work. I must have been stationary for about 15 minutes trying to get the thing to work.

Slowly it dawned on me....that cat !! It looks like the chewing that Chester gave the spare SD card had rendered it useless.

I only had one option and that was to put the original SD card back in which still had some recording time left on it but not enough to record all of the ride that was left.  I would have to only switch the camera back on when I was sure that it would last to the end of the ride.

After all I didn't want to miss crossing the finishing line.

As I rejoined the stream of cyclists heading for London I decided that Chester's sentence would have to be go through judicial review. I would of course advocate the case for the death penalty but no doubt Annette would plead it down to a stern talking to followed by a tummy rub.

THE FINAL MILES

 

After the GoPro debacle the final few miles whizzed by pretty quickly.

After Esher there was a return trip through Kingston and then to Wimbledon and across the river again at Putney.

Not The Best Shot Of Big Ben You'll Ever See

Then all of a sudden I found myself cycling along the north bank of the Thames in central London with obviously just a few minutes to go before the end of the ride.

I started to reflect on my "journey".

There had been a lot of miles covered to get to this point figuratively and metaphorically.



I was proud of how I'd improved on the bike and the work I had done off the bike in raising money for the charity.

I was relieved I had done it, it was over and I had achieved what I set out to achieve.

I must confess as I cycled along the Thames there was some chin wobbling going on.

Just as I began to wallow in sentimentality and the Simon Bates " Our Tune" theme was playing in my head I pulled myself together.

Just About To Go Under Admiralty Arch

I remembered that I am British, I am male and I am from the North.

Emotions must be suppressed and buried deeply. Serious issues must be trivialised and made light of.

Thank goodness I remembered my heritage just in time otherwise I could have let myself down in front of those soft southern pansies.

The end was surreal.

Firstly I went past the Houses of Parliament where I distinctly heard the sound of expense forms being filled in (little bit of politics there) and then all of a sudden wallop I was on The Mall.

Let's Get The Celebration Right !

I could see the finish line a short way ahead. Just how would I finish ?

No way would I take both hands off the bars as I would fall off immediately.

Maybe a Superman punch and a roar like Bradley Wiggins on the final time trial stage of the Tour De France 2012.

Or maybe more reflective like an 80s power ballad singing to a clenched fist. Or maybe a fist pump with a "get in ! " . Or maybe ....hang on what's this ?

Just Over The Finish Line - The Mangled Bike

The announcer at the line was warning there had been an accident at the finish line and everyone should slow down and be careful.

Sure enough as I crossed the line there were paramedics around a gentleman who was laid out on the floor.

It was a nasty one and his bike looked like he had hit a wall at high speed as the front wheel was caved in.

Just how does that happen on an open road with no obstacles on it ?

Buckingham Palace, Some Cyclists & Jonathan Edwards

That is why my official finish line photo does not show me grandstanding but looking confused and startled.

There is no way I am paying £17 for that !

I rolled up to the front of Buckingham Palace and stopped at the throng of cyclists waiting to get into Green Park.

Oh, there's Jonathan Edwards.

THAT'S ALL FOLKS

 

Having now returned to Barton and drowned the cat in the bath....I'm kidding...I killed him in the microwave....no I'm kidding honestly. 

I have put together a video of the whole ride speeded up so it only lasts 12 minutes.

That is the whole ride minus about 10 miles of course !

I have watched it all the way through only once as it made me feel dizzy, nauseous and sick. However I have spent ages putting it together so you can all bloody well watch it.

If you have read all the way to the bottom of this blog you must be one of my hardened fans and therefore I thank you for reading the blogs leading up to my great Ride London adventure.

Thank you to everyone who has donated to Alzheimers Research UK via my page and to all the members of Cottingham Road Club who have both helped me get fit for this challenge and supplied material for my blogs at the same time.

Similarly thanks to all my friends and family particularly Annette.


I think like Harper Lee I will now retire from public life and resist the clarion calls to write more at least for a little while.

I am looking forward to letting myself go a little and indulging in some of the treats that I have been denying myself of late. 

For example I have just got myself a rather nice chocolate brownie to eat....hang on where's that gone ? 

It was just next to me a minute ago........CHESTER !!! 

To make a donation towards the vital work of ALZHEIMERS RESEARCH UK please click on the link below. Thank you very much.

MY VIRGIN MONEY GIVING PAGE

The Eye Of The Tiger

CTC 90th ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION RIDE - 5th JULY 2015

In March, along with some Cottingham Road Club (CRC) colleagues, I had done the 50 mile Spring Standard ride put on by the Cyclists' Touring Club (CTC).

The ride and the event had been very enjoyable. I wrote a blog about it. I was even invited to write a blog about the next CTC event because ...there was nobody else to do it. Unfortunately I couldn't attend so that was that.

However the planets were aligning again on the 5th of July when the CTC was holding a 90th anniversary celebration ride. The distance would be 90 miles. Did you see what they did there ?

The timing couldn't have been better.

After the CRC charity ride I had lost focus somewhat.

Imagine if you will the plot of Rocky III. A veritable Shakespearean masterpiece about an athlete who had started from nothing and through sheer hard work and determination had got to the pinnacle of his sport. However complacency had then set in. He allowed himself to get distracted, his preparations were compromised and his contests were not true tests.

 Er hello ?! The parallels with my situation were spooky. I had just done a 140 mile ride so surely a measly 100 miles in London in August would be a piece of cake ? I took my foot off the gas and my hands on that cake...and cheese and crisps and what about a few beers ? Hell yes you deserve it ! You are The Champ !

I did a few rides after the CRC charity ride but they were not very taxing and I wasn't pushing myself. In a surprisingly short time scale I had put on about half a stone and lost quite a bit of fitness.

If I were to come up against Clubber Lang now I would be toast and my corner man would have a heart attack. I never did like that guy anyway.

I came up with a 3 pronged plan of attack :

• Get the eating under control. In particular give up the cheese....again...except on pizzas because that doesn't count
• Start doing rides that were going to push me and hurt me again.
• Look at another big ride leading up to Ride London.

Removing cheese from my life was tough. I wanted to rebel on many occasions shouting

"I don't give Edam about Ride London I need cheese !!"

Thank goodness for the occasional pizza which kept me sane.

I reeled off 3 CRC Tuesday night bike rides on the trot where I was dragged up all the local hills, dragged along at break neck speeds and then just simply dragged along.

Then it was time for CRC meets the CTC round 2. Seconds away. Ding Ding !

THE ROUTE

Starting at Hessle Rugby Club on the north bank of the Humber the ride would come over to the south side and head over to the River Trent at Keadby Bridge. From there we would go south along the west bank of the Trent and then all the way down to Gainsborough. At Gainsborough we would cross the Trent again to the east side and travel north along the river until Susworth. Then a turn eastwards to Caistor via Scotter, Waddingham and Moortown. Finally back north again to the Humber Bridge via Kirmington to the finish.

Patrick & Steve Getting Themselves Motivated !

I was doing the ride with CRC members Steve and Patrick. The weather was glorious when we arrived at the rugby club.

Tea & Coffee

We carried out the usual pre-ride protocols.

Registration - check.

Tea and coffee - check

Sunbathe on the grass - check

Suggest only partly in jest that we not do the ride at all - check

Shall we bother ?

Slag off CRC members who were not there - check

"I thought Charlie was doing this ride ? Where is he ?"
"Tosser ! "
" Adam said he was doing this ride as well. Where is he ?"
"Tosser !"
 
Patrick consulted the directions that had been supplied for the ride. Two "control" points were identified at Dovecote Cafe near West Stockwith and at the Arts & Heritage Centre Cafe in Caistor.

Registration

I assumed that proof of making these points would be required in order to get our buffet on return to Hessle Rugby club.

"Where are our cards ?" I said.

"What cards ?" said Patrick

"Surely we need our cards stamped or something at the control points. Where are they ?!"

"Stop panicking I'm sure we'll get our buffet"

"Hey unauthorised buffet taking is a very serious offence. You think these people won't cut up rough ?! Think again my friend ! "

THE START

The Start - It Was Dog Eat Dog

As 8.30 approached we reluctantly got up off the grass and got on our bikes. A group of about 15 went to the start line elbows out jockeying for position. It was pretty ugly in there let me tell you.

Sheila acted as starter.

"OK if you want a time when you've finished I'll give you a time. Off you go !"

We started climbing up the hill out of the rugby club towards the main road and when we got there myself, Steve and Patrick were at the back and the rest of the group were rapidly disappearing into the distance.

I know what you're thinking. The new scourge of the peloton. Mechanical doping. Some of those water bottles did look a little on the large side.

So we settled down to going at our own pace. Across the Humber Bridge and up "heart attack hill" as Steve put it or known locally as Gravel Pit Road. Then through South Ferriby and along the A1077 heading for Winterton before taking a right to get on much quieter roads going to Thealby and Normanby.

Steve Gunning It Downhill On The Way To Normanby

Whilst I had the written directions in my pocket I had the route on my Garmin and as is the modern curse was following it slavishly. 

That was until it became clear that the course file may have been hacked by North Korea. 

Just past Normanby Hall the Garmin instructed a right turn which I slowed down to take until I noticed that a right turn would just take us into a field. 

We were a little more suspicious of the Garmin instructions after that.

Across Keadby Bridge

As we approached Gunness we saw a group of cyclists ahead of us in the distance. We didn't think it could be our CTC group as they had shot off so fast at the start. They must have been miles ahead by now.

As it turned out it was our CTC group so either they must have slowed down or we must have speeded up.....yeah,  I guess they must have slowed down.

We made the junction just before Keadby Bridge. I was keen to get ahead so I could take some pictures of the group with the GoPro so we went past.

Hi Remember Us ?

In our enthusiasm to get past we nearly blasted past the left turn we needed to take to get onto the west bank road of the Trent until a helpful shout from the back

" LEFT !!! " 

After that we were quickly caught by the group and we settled down to keeping our heads down in the middle of the pack.

The villages rolled by quickly and smoothly. Derrythorpe, West Butterwick, Owston Ferry and West Stockwith. Then we pulled into the scheduled stopping point of Dovecote Cafe.

In the Cafe I was expecting a stern looking person in CTC uniform holding a stamp saying in a comedy german accent,

" Ver are your papers ? I vill stamp zem ! "

But there was no such thing so I guess there was no formal control, signing in or stamping. Then Steve came back from the counter holding a blue chitty with a number 12 on it.

"Hey, what is that ?!" I said " I thought you said there were no cards to be stamped, what is that then ?"
 
Then a young lady came out with a cup of coffee

" Number 12 ! " she shouted.

"Over here " said Steve waving his blue chitty.

"Look just calm down Alan you don't have to get anything stamped. You are going to get your buffet at the end. Just chillax will you "

"Why don't we get going ? " I said sulkily

"Alan stop sucking the joy out of everything you'll end up turning into Charlie ! "

Jeez not The Grinch himself. That was a sobering thought.

DROPPED BY A 72 YEAR OLD MAN

So we left Dovecote Cafe all together and carried on towards Gainsborough. I tried to be a bit more sociable and got chatting to a few more of the group.

Departing Dovecote Cafe

Having crossed the Trent again at Gainsborough we then hugged the east bank running up from East Stockwith, Wildsworth, East Ferry and Susworth.

The pace was pretty quick. We were doing a good 19/20 mph. One of the group, Dudley, I was told is 72 years old. He was coping with the pace no problem. Brilliant.

An Iron Man

Patrick, however, was spending more and more time at the back. Was he on the ropes ? I went back to him to offer some encouragement.


"Hey Patrick there is a 72 year old man in this group. If you get dropped you'll never live it down !!"

No there's no need to thank me Patrick. You are welcome.

I decided to do one of my dashes to the front and then fall back again to get everyone on the GoPro. As nearly everyone didn't know why I was doing this they must have just thought I was a wally.

At Susworth we turned right and started the eastward trek to Caistor.

Riding Up The East Bank Of The Trent

We had been through Scotter and Scotton and were on our way to Kirton In Lindsey when Patrick's chain came off.

I went back to assist, otherwise known as standing there and hoping he sorts it out himself. Steve held back as well.

The rest of the group carried on up the road.

I must confess this irked me slightly as previously I had gone back to see if one of the group was OK when he was having some bike issues.

Where was the quid pro quo ? But it wasn't exactly a club ride or a group ride was it ?

The Cafe At Caistor

We just happened to be riding with these guys on a 90 mile course.

Also to be fair I think they just didn't realise we were gone.

However, fuelled by moral indignation I gave it the beans into Kirton and then struggled up the hill to catch them up so that I could ask for a regroupment.

They stopped on the other side of the A15 to allow Patrick to rejoin.

Pretty much as soon as we got going again it was clear that Patrick wasn't going to keep up and I wasn't going to ask them to slow down again. It was time to throw in the towel.

We would let them go and ride along as a threesome.

So around the Waddingham area we became the three amigos again.

Just in case Patrick was feeling bad about the situation I decided to give him some more encouragement

"We just got dropped by a 72 year old man you tosser !!"

No, honestly Patrick there is no need to thank me.

A SUSTAINED DOWNPOUR

 

At Caistor we had definitely broken the back of the ride. There was only 20 miles to go now. As I had started my Garmin when I left the house I was looking at doing my second 100 miler now. 

Patrick In A Sustained Downpour

We stopped at the cafe in Caistor for some refreshments. 

We caught up to the main group briefly but as we were just tucking into our flapjack and chocolate cake they were off.

There was talk of having to get back to the rugby club for 4 pm in order to get the buffet. I didn't think we were going to make it.
  

Steve Contemplating If This Was A Sustained Downpour

We set off from Caistor and after the initial climb out of the town we then enjoyed the long gradual down hill sections on the way to Kirmington. 

The weather had been fantastic all day but now I could start to feel a few spots of rain, then a few more until it was raining hard.

I stopped to put my rain jacket on remembering the words Annette had left me with that morning 

"You won't need that rain jacket, it's not going to rain ! " 

Feeling smug I carried on.

"What would you call this rain ?" asked Steve. " It's definitely more than a shower, but it's not like torrential is it ?"

"Well it seems quite torrential to me Steve" I said as I dodged the small inland seas that had developed on the road.

" I think it's more of a sustained downpour " said Steve. " Yes a sustained downpour. Put that in your blog when you write it "

"Ok mate ...thanks "

Whether it was a shower or a downpour or a typhoon , the rain was giving me an unexpected problem. I had lathered myself in sun tan lotion before the start and the rain on my face washed said sun tan lotion into my left eye. My eye began to sting quite badly. For quite a while I was riding along with one eye closed.

I explained my difficulty to Steve and got no sympathy or reaction at all. 

Oh yes the question of whether we were in a sustained downpour or not and you couldn't shut him up. 

But concern about me being blind in one eye..nothing !

THE FINISH

 

Once the sustained downpour was over we were practically home. A short while later the wonderful sight of the Humber Bridge came into view and what's more we were going to get to the finish before 4 pm. Just.
 
I tried to get us to finish together like Team Sky crossing the line in the 2013 Tour De France but it was like herding cats.

You'll be glad to know there was plenty of buffet left and it was very nice too.

Myself and Patrick had a beer whilst Steve who's body is a temple set a shining example and had water.

Patrick said that was the fastest 100 miler he had ever done and he was over the 16 mph average. All joking aside he had done brilliantly. I would never tell him that to his face though.

He also pointed out that I had never done a 100 mile ride without him which was true. I did indeed owe him a debt.

Whilst I was in a slightly inebriated state Patrick shamelessly tried to canvass for a good nickname in the blog. The "Golden Bullet " was proposed by Patrick optimistically.

I think Patrick is one of those cool guys who should be known by a single word or maybe like the artist formerly known as Prince just by a symbol or a letter or a number maybe ?

But what number would sum up that epic ride and the part that Patrick played in it ?

"72"Enjoys His Beer

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CRC Overnight Bike Ride. It's Insane But It's For Charity !



"How far ?!"

"Is this some kind of joke ?!"

"Why does it have to be overnight ?!"

"Isn't this..well.. insane ?!"

Just a selection of the things I didn't say when I learned of the details of the Cottingham Road Club annual charity bike ride.

Instead I found myself saying....." Count me in ! "

The club had generously offered to donate a proportion of the money raised to Alzheimers Research UK. So whatever the event was going to be I felt duty bound to participate.....and like it. No moaning, no complaining.

Shit . No moaning and no complaining ? This was going to be tough.

I just wasn't prepared for what was on the cards.

An overnight bike ride from the Humber Bridge to Lincoln and back. A relatively direct route would have been 80 miles or so but a circuitous route via Gainsborough and Goole would make it ...130 miles.

I am going to write that out in words ... one hundred and thirty miles. That is 200 Kms...two hundred kilometres. The longest ride I had ever done up to press was 78 miles. This was well on the way to being twice that.

The ride was going to be supported in the form of Justin in his works van ( thank you Sewell Group ! ) ably assisted by Annette ( my Missus ).

The bonkersness ( yes that is a word ) of training to do my first ever 100 mile bike ride at the Prudential Ride London event by doing a 130 mile ride was not lost on me.

I had to get my head round it though because this was actually going to happen.

The event took place on the night of Friday the 5th of June starting at 8 pm at the Humber Bridge and would finish approximately 12 hours later back at the Humber Bridge.

Leading up to the big night I was not in the best physical shape. I felt I had overdone it over the preceding week or two. My legs were in a continual state of "too tightness". My hamstrings and calves ached all the time and the strain was not being relieved by my half hearted stretching exercises.

I heard a really good quote about stretching exercises recently

"Everybody knows they are really important and nobody does them"

I was concerned that even though the pace of the ride would be steady that it would be too much for me.

The nightmare scenario would be an attack of cramp and being shovelled into the back of the van crying like a baby.

THE GATHERING

Riders Are You Ready !

Spirits were high as we gathered at the Humber Bridge car park. There were going to be 17 of us doing the ride.

Supplies and standby equipment were loaded into the van including a surprising amount of baking that had been lovingly crafted by several participants.

Flapjacks, chocolate cakes, cherry and banana bread and Fat Rascals to name but a few.

The cherry and banana bread that Steve S had created was excellent. Could we have a baking ringer in the group ? After all it is a fact that I have never seen Steve and Paul Hollywood together in the same room.

Back Up Team Ready !

Pretty soon the van was full of kit bags and rider food and water supplies.

That was on top of the myriad of tools and equipment that were already in the van for it's true purpose of facilities maintenance and support.

"What on earth is that ?"  said Annette pointing at a small cylindrical object with a happy face painted on it and a snorkel type tube coming out of it.

"That's a vacuum cleaner love " I replied. It's used for cleaning up.

She looked back at me blankly.

"Never mind sweetheart" I said " it's not important right now"

THE GRAND DEPART

And so after photographs and general hoopla the little matter of a 130 mile bike ride began with the familiar roll across the Humber Bridge and then through Barton to get on to Caistor Road.



In Barton we received our first heckle from a drunken local staggering between pubs.

I'm not sure that he was entirely sure what he wanted to say but he wanted to say something. 

Obviously concerned for the local economy he plumped for an interesting comment about how cyclists may effect the traffic flow in a medium sized market town.

" Ahh you lot ! Get in the way of the traffic why don't you !! "

As a resident of Barton it made me feel proud.

We left Barton and continued on to Burnham, Melton Ross and Bigby.

The ride was being led by Mark E fresh from his epic charity turbo event of the previous Friday night.

Mark E - Ride Leader

I had only met Mark properly a few days before when we had been on a ride together.

Mark was having difficulty remembering my name.

"Hey Andy have you got tonight's ride on your Garmin ? Mine is playing up and I need a back up "

"Yes I have mate and it's Alan by the way"

"Oh I am ever so sorry I've done that before haven't I ? Totally unacceptable. Great, thanks for that!"

Mike On His Fixie

On the way to Bigby I got talking to a new face I hadn't seen out with the club before.

Mike was on a " Fixie ".

I looked down at the large chain ring and the small sprocket and wondered why anyone would choose to ride a bike with one gear especially when that one gear was a very hard gear.

Was it just a macho thing ?

So I asked him.

" Mike " I started "Why would anyone choose to ride a bike with only one gear especially when that one gear is a very hard gear?  Is it just a macho thing ?"

Mike talked about the true spirit of cycling and how all bikes used to be like this. Doing it this way was doing it the right way respecting the heritage of what had gone before and challenging oneself to live up to the feats of the greats of the past.

" And ..." he added " It's a bit of a macho thing as well ! "

Thought so.

INTO THE NIGHT

As the sun was setting we pressed on in the general direction of Market Rasen passing through Searby, Owmby, North Kelsey Moor, Moortown and Holton Le Moor.

Patrick & The Support Van

Just as we got on to the A46 the van was parked up off the road and we had a stop.

I wondered how Annette and Justin were getting on in the van. I hoped Annette wasn't going on too much about her old rowing exploits.

" I swear to you Justin" Annette concluded as she got out of the van  " I had to row 3 hours up that bloody river to see that donkey ! "

Okey dokey.


Handsome But In An Obvious Way

As people milled around the van retrieving food, water and clothing I checked out the paint job on this gleaming clean Sewell waggon.

There were large promo shots of Sewells employees on the side of the van, looking out and smiling.

The subliminal message : We are professional. We are competent. We are here to help.

These people were probably not real employees anyway I cynically thought to myself. They will be models........hold on.

That guy looks very familiar.  He looks like ...he looks like Justin. It is Justin !

A "Mobile Maintenance Technician" said the strap line and what was he holding in his left hand ? A mobile.

Did you see what they did there ?

I was wondering where his right hand was and why he had a mischievous grin on his face before I was snapped back into the here and now.

Bill - Knows A Dickhead When He Sees One

"Gather round everybody !!"

Mark was giving a safety briefing.

"OK everyone we are about to start on the A46 now so there will be quite a few dickheads on the roads. We need to stick together and look after each other "

" You will know they are dickheads as they will have helmet shaped heads " added Bill helpfully.

"OK everyone alright with that ? " concluded Mark , then looking at me " OK Paul ? "

" Yes Mark fine and it's Alan by the way "

"Oh I am really sorry. What is the matter with me ?!"

Shortly after this stop it was properly dark and everyone had their lights on as we progressed down the A46 towards Lincoln.

Unfortunately the prediction about dickheads was correct and they fell into two distinct categories

The " I Am Prepared To Risk My Life and Yours To Get Past "  dickhead

                                                                &

The " I Am Going To Sound My Horn At You For ...Well I Don't Actually Know Why " dickhead



Losing The Light

There were plenty of the latter and mercifully very few of the former.

In fact there was only one incident of a dickhead who overtook us narrowly avoiding a head on smash with oncoming traffic.

Bravely I got myself in the middle of the pack hoping that the flesh and bones of my colleagues would reduce the kinetic energy of any out of control vehicle or projectiles formed by an accident.

Best to keep that to myself I think.

We had another stop down the A46 and people took the opportunity to put additional layers on ready for the overnight conditions.

Amazingly for me I didn't feel cold and so decided not to add any more layers at this stage.

After all the weather forecast was predicting an overnight low of 9 degrees. That shouldn't be too bad should it ?

LINCOLN, MICHAELGATE & THE BIRTHDAY GIRL

As we approached Lincoln it was evident I had made the wrong decision about not putting an extra layer on. I was freezing. Surely this wasn't 9 degrees ?

Never mind we would soon be at Lincoln and I could put something on there.

But to get to Lincoln Cathedral we had to navigate the toughest uphill section of the ride.


Approaching Michaelgate in Lincoln.

Michaelgate is a narrow, steep and cobbled hill on the approach to the cathedral.

Little more than a hundred metres or so in length this road is still ranked 28 in the 100 Greatest Cycling Climbs of the UK and the starring attraction of the annual Lincoln Grand Prix.

An average gradient of 12 % maxing out at 17 %.

After the first killer section the road levels off kidding the rider the worst is over only for the coup de grace to be delivered when the rider turns sharp left and faces a further wall of cobbles to ascend.

Not so much a hill but more like one of those indoor rock faces you get at modern leisure centres. 

Michaelgate

Chris knew where he was going and led the way through Lincoln to get us to the bottom of the climb.

I was expecting something a fraction more bumpy than say block paving. A little lumpy but actually quite pleasant.

I was to be disappointed. The cobbles themselves were like a Himalayan mountain range in miniature. Standing proud of the road surface and each one seemed to be saying :

"C'Mon hit me ! Hit me ! ".

We Are All Here - Even Though You Can't Make Us Out

If I had been smart and switched on I would have headed over to the gutter on the left which was smooth and free of small Himalayan mountains.

However, I was not smart and switched on. I was dumb and the lights were out.

So I ploughed on up the middle, grinding it out for 2 bone shaking minutes.

Still it was great to get to the top and be greeted by Lincoln Cathedral all lit up.

Time for some group photos poorly exposed lacking any real detail or resolution.

Before we left it was time to give one of our number an unexpected treat. We were approaching midnight after which the date would be the 6th of June.

Historical events that occurred on the 6th of June include

• The Normandy Landings - D Day, The Longest Day - 1944
• Bill Hailey and The Comets " Rock Around The Clock " hits No. 1 in the charts - 1955
• Britain voted to stay in the Common Market - 1975
• Cottingham Road Club Overnight Charity Bike Ride - 2015

        AND

• June Heron born - 19.... Better not go there.

Respect to June's parents who obviously didn't waste any time agonising about baby names.

"What month is it ?"
"June"
"That will do ! "

As the clock swung past midnight there was a rousing chorus of " Happy Birthday" which June was overjoyed with as she loves being the centre of attention. Her feelings nicely summed up by the statement :

"Let's go ! "

CAN YOU FALL ASLEEP ON A BIKE ?

From Lincoln we started on the segment of the ride that would end up in Gainsborough. This would take us through Burton, South & North Carlton, Saxilby, Torksey, Marton, Knaith and Lea.

The support van and crew were shadowing our every move. Sometimes they would follow behind and other times they would overtake and wait for us up ahead.

Justin was trying to get Annette to understand the concept of a vacuum cleaner

"You switch it on and it develops a suction which picks up dirt and small particles from the area being cleaned, typically carpets "

Annette looked back blankly.

" Never mind Annette. It's not important right now "

On the outskirts of Saxilby we managed to go the wrong way by missing a right turn. Mark noticed first.

"Hey stop, I think we've missed a turn here" and then to me "Dave, what does it say on your Garmin?"

"We are off the course Mark. And it's Alan by the way"

"Of course it is. I am such a plonker. I do apologise"

We turned everybody round and took the correct turning to get back on the course. Unfortunately we had turned round and gone a different way when the support crew were ahead of us.

Thus we expertly managed to lose the support van and crew. We couldn't have done it any better if we were trying to do it. All was not lost though and a quick mobile phone call later we had arranged to pick up the support crew again at McDonalds in Gainsborough. No drama.

So we pressed on to Gainsborough in the wee small hours. The terrain was pancake flat and it required very little effort to keep the legs turning over and to maintain a reasonable speed. In front of me all I could see were the rear lights, steady or blinking, of my colleagues and then all detail disappeared into the surrounding murky, inky blackness.

I began to feel like I wasn't really there, that I was watching it as some kind of observer through a window. Was this a dream ?

It wasn't exactly riveting viewing either so I began to yawn and feel a bit sleepy. The period of time my eyelids were shut when I was blinking started to get longer and longer.

I turned round to Tony

"Is this really happening Tony ?"
"Do you know I was just thinking the same thing" came the reply.

Not all my colleagues were feeling as soporific as me. In fact quite the reverse for some of them. Carol and Wayne who are as thick as thieves had found something amusing and were cackling like hyenas.

If it wasn't for the racket they were making my eye lids could well have stayed shut on one of those blinks.


WHERE IS THE VAN ?

When we got to Gainsborough we were able to compare the quality of the drunks with the ones in Barton.

I think to be fair though the drunks in Gainsborough had been at it much longer than the drunks in Barton and so there was a much lower quality heckle in Gainsborough.

The best one was from a drunk actually on a bike riding in the opposite direction to us. Maybe in his head he thought he had delivered the ultimate witty heckle that would be talked about for years.

What actually came out as he cycled full gas past us was just a scream.

"Blaaarrrrrghhh  !!!"

We followed the Garmin course religiously into Gainsborough ....and then out of Gainsborough ? Hold on I thought we were going to meet the van at McDonalds in Gainsborough?

" You're right " said Mark " better arrange somewhere else "

"Ring your Missus Hugo and tell them to meet us where we cross the Trent. What is the name of that place now ?"

"Keadby Bridge ?"

"That's right Keadby Bridge"

I wasn't even bothering to correct him on the name thing now. Hugo ?

I stopped to make the call while the group carried on. Having got hold of Annette I informed her of the new plan to meet at Keadby Bridge.

"OK got that" she said " Oh and Alan "
"Yes darling ?"
" Why would someone want to pick up dirt with one of these vacuum cleaner things ??"
"Never mind darling. That's not important right now. See you at Keadby Bridge "

I ended the call. Jesus Christ ! Unbelievable !


INTO THE DAWN

The run up to Keadby Bridge from Gainsborough was all along the banks of the River Trent. It was easy to start going a little too fast.

Carol wanted us to slow down a bit

She sprinted up to the back of the front group at top speed only for her to discover that she couldn't pull out of it in time.

She whacked into Wayne's back wheel.

For a second they both wobbled and nearly hit the deck.

"Hey what do you think you're doing !?" shouted Wayne

"I just wanted you to slow down" pleaded Carol

"Well just ask me don't knock me off my bloody bike ! "

I think this was just a sign of general fatigue setting in.

We hadn't seen the van for some time now and people where ready for a stop and something to eat and drink.

At Keadby Bridge we spotted the van parked up off the road.

It was a welcome sight and soon all the doors were opened up and cyclists were gorging themselves on the goodies inside.

Suitably refreshed we set off on the road to Goole via Garthorpe, Adlingfleet, Whitgift, Reedness and Swinefleet.

You could just start to detect the sky starting to get a bit lighter on the horizon. The dawn was coming. Hallelujah !

As we rode through Reedness I put the hex on things.

"Do you know what ? We've been really lucky with punctures haven't we ? What's the chances of going so long without one ?"

Moments later.  " I've got a flat ! ". It was Ian.

The classic puncture repair scenario then ensued.

Namely the person who has suffered the puncture is surrounded by people who adopt a supervisory stance normally arms crossed or if it's really serious hands on hips.

Comments are then made on how the person who has suffered the puncture is doing his repair incorrectly or can do it better. No one actually actively assists.

Lights will be shone on the working area by people who haven't suffered the puncture not to help the person who has suffered the puncture but to assist those watching in their assessment of the situation.

Ian manfully demonstrated that he could take this pressure by repairing this puncture and also the next one he had about 5 minutes down the road !

I don't think I could do it. I would go to pieces under the scrutiny.


LOST IN GOOLE AND DRAFTING THE VAN

As we rolled into Goole the sun was well up now. We went straight on at a junction and the Garmin chirped up immediately  to alert me to the fact that we should have turned right.

Goole - The Final Stop

"We should have gone right there guys ! " I piped up.

Everyone kept going.

"But if someone knows where we are going ....?"

As it turned out no one knew where we were going and we spent about 15 minutes guessing and using The Force to try and get ourselves back on track.

Eventually we did and we crossed the Ouse using Boothferry Bridge and made our final stop at the Ferryboat Inn where there was excited talk of possible bacon sarnies.

Final Pep Talk

A cooked breakfast would have gone down a treat at this stage but whereas it seemed really late in the day to me it was in point of fact still only 5 am. It wasn't open. Bugger!

Never mind there were still plenty of treats in the van to refuel on.

As I munched away on some of Paul Hollywood's cherry and banana bread I looked down at the Garmin on my bike. The distance covered read 107 miles.

Near Howden - Brilliant Sunshine

There was no decimal point I noticed. Usually it would read 44.8 for example but because we were into three figures it had jettisoned the decimal point. I had never seen that before.

Nerdy and uninteresting I know but it's my blog.

Mark got us together for a final pep talk.

"OK everybody we are on the final leg now. If some of you want to have a bit of a blast back home then go ahead. "



Mike At The End - Off To Work !

"We will all meet up outside Vive Le Velo in Ferriby so that we return to the bridge together as a group."

"There's going to be a good tail wind on the way home so enjoy it. OK ? Lets do it ! "

So we set off turning right at Howden in order to hug the north bank of the River Ouse. The sun was shining, the roads were flat and the speeds started to creep up.

For the final stint I found myself in a group with Chris, June and Jason. The support van was also in close attendance. Sometimes just behind us and sometimes just in front.

We had some fun trying to draft the van. Justin was keeping an eye on things in the side mirror increasing his speed to make it harder and harder for us to stick with him. Finally he ended our fun by speeding off into the distance.

 

Carol At The End - "F * * KED"

Over those final 10 miles back to North Ferriby I felt brilliant. I was pressing on and getting some complaints from June and Jason which was nice to hear for those times when they have done the same to me.

The only minor issue in those final miles was the promised tail wind was in fact quite a strong head wind particularly when we were going towards Broomfleet.

After that section was over though it was plain sailing all the way into North Ferriby where we assumed we would be the first to arrive at Vive Le Velo.

I was just about to put my hands in the air (figuratively speaking as if I did it for real I would fall off ) when I spotted a lone rider waiting outside the bike shop.

Justin - Not So Mobile Now

 It was Mike on his fixie.


"How the hell did you get here in front of us ?"

"Well I had to get a move on as I need to be at work in a bit"

"What ?! You are going to work ? After that ride ?"

He most certainly was and if you had any problems with your mail delivery on Saturday the 6th of June it could have been because your postman was a little tired that morning.

Just before we set off for the final couple of miles to the bridge I gave Mark back some ear phones he had lent me for use with my mobile phone.

"Thanks Enrique. Nice one "

Enrique ?? Unreal !


RETURN TO THE BRIDGE

Back At The Bridge

And so we covered the last couple of miles from North Ferriby to the bridge.

It was processional, it was slow and it was brilliant.

What a rush. I had done it. We had done it.

By the time I got home I would end up breaking the 140 mile barrier. Barely credible.

I made a point of trying to get round everybody and give them a handshake to say thanks very much for being part of it with me.

I wasn't going to forget this in a long long  time.

Just before Steve and I got on our bikes again to go back over the bridge to Barton I went up to Mark and offered him my hand.

" Thanks very much Mark. Enjoyed it. "

"That's great Alan well done mate "

I pushed off and started pedalling for the bridge.

Hey, wait a minute ...............what did he just call me ?

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