A for Anglezarke, B for Brindle, C for Crank It

I wasn't even sure as to whether I'd make it out of bed today after the festivities in Lancaster last night but while Rob McLeod and Alan Copland were enjoying a full English in the Lancaster House Hotel, I was just feeling not quite bad enough to get my head out the door for 9am to join the four groups on offer at the shop. These were quite varied, with Ralph taking an A/B jaunt to Roots for those wanting a flat ride with a cafe stop, while the usual B and C rides were also taking place. That meant Matt had around 15 takers for his ride to Anglezarke with a few extra stingers thrown in on the way home. But by the end of the ride, I was seriously wondering if Rob and Alan had the right idea all along - and not just because I could have eaten both of their breakfasts. Read on to find out the full story.

SCHNELL! SCHNELL!

Dark Lane wasn't just dark this morning, it was more like a bleak, deep, freezer. For the first few miles to the Hoscar Moss I was just about unable to feel my toes properly and my fingers didn't want to push the gear lever. That would be quite a talking point later, but for now we were busy meandering our way through the Ring O'Bells roundabouts. However, as we ascended the bridge "MECHANICAL" was heard further back, and it turned out our new recruit Ronnie from Hamburg had a loose mudguard. He was lucky that Ian Gallagher had a zip tie in his saddle bag otherwise Matt would have been charging him £10 (or 10 post Brexit euros) for such a part. We set off once more only to have to chase down the B group who were on their way to Rivington. Upon reaching the junction at the end of Hoscar Moss we turned right for the Hilldale side of Parbold Hill, where an Endurance Store Duathlon was being staged today. Darren was gutted we weren't going up Hunters but given the TT bike speedsters were about to descend from the quarry it's probably for the best we stayed out of it. We continued through the curves of Wrightington to the church passing a few leisure cyclists in the process, now with me getting closer to the front. The first call to not go full beast mode came at the Heskin Green switchbacks but I got a real shock as the front mech changed down all on its own; surely it wasn't time to dip into the TT bike budget to be able to use the little ring properly? Upon resuming I pulled into third wheel on the right while Darren continued on his merry way setting the pace through some unusually dense traffic. The next change sent two red jerseys to the front, one of whom was, naturally, me. So plenty of comments about half wheeling and aggressive riding dominated the next passage of play, but we would be seeing red for a very different reason on our way to Adlington.

C IS FOR CRANK IT UP AND COLOUR COMMENTARY

I decided we were going too slow to warm up properly and set about raising the pace to over 20mph before another "auto change down" incident just before the Thyme and Plaice pub. This led to first of many rounds of "f*** this" as well as "now I'm back on the big ring" and "Let's make Ormskirk great again!" Of curse you know who gave me the idea for the latter but upon handing over to Howie and his destructive descending tendencies I got talking to Matt about the new great beers in the Green Rooms. Apparently they even serve one now called 312! I asked "is that the alcohol content, I'll ask about the 6.24 version" which impressed Matt considerably more than the idiot in a blue Vauxhall who blasted its horn at us about 5 seconds back and nearly took the ride leaders out!  With this noob well up the ROTR leaderboard we could ride onwards to Adlington and the grand crossroads. On the restart Mark Titchener was pretty surprised that the leaders weren't hammering it up the hill, rather that it was possible to have a good chat about digital radio and how best to get 6Music. The station I overwrote on my DAB to get Capital Xtra, but you knew that anyway. After crossing the motorway bridge we bombed the descent for the Yew Tree Inn. After passing the capita of burnt roast potatoes we swung right then left towards the big climb of the day, Anglezarke. John and Stefan put on the closest thing to a (Capital) Throwback as they duelled for the top just like the old days of 2011 and Darren scooted through a five wide roadblock to pace himself to the last spot on the podium. I thought I might get Kieron towards the end but ultimately I rolled home 5th ahead of the captain himself. You could also tell who the podium scores were as they burned off their caffeine from breakfast by watering a few flowers while I ate the first of two granola squares acquired on the cheap at the Co-Op yesterday and these remaining morsels of goodness were only a single day past their date. However, the climb was nothing compared to what would happen in an extremely chaotic third quarter of the ride.

NO MORE CRANKING THOSE BIG WEIGHTS, YOU'RE IN THE A GROUP

We set off down the descent but my policy of eating at the top was a suitably unsuitable one as it's a stomach churning drop for me at the best of times and today was the worst I've ever felt in descending Anglezarke. In fact I had to let the entire field past me while shaking like a leaf and I was even more unnerved when a wobbly man on a black and green bike came the other way just as the right hander before the bridge opened up. It must have been the steep drop to the bend that did it and if nothing else it served me right for not making use of the water jug last night at the awards (dehydration + blood pressure issue + cold day = loss of balance) so I was relieved that some people had dropped off the back of the speedsters out front so I could pass them and help them back to the main field, even if the horses did their best to hold us back. With the field all together once more I got the opportunity to join Felt Man in not recognising the steep punch up ahead and having to change gear while hand turning the pedals to something remotely resembling a suitable gear. Like 50x15 perhaps. We got going once more and found ourselves in Top Locks, proof that Matt is trying to bridge the gap between the ever growing A group and the 8:30 crew who had their own nasty incident today (hope you're OK Emma, take care). In fact I was seriously lucky not to join her in hospital, not just because of the shaky descending both earlier and here en route to Brindle but also because of the best mechanical incident ever which hopefully will win me a bike repair book (2017 SRAM eTAP edition) at the club dinner. Because we ascended Top O' the Hill Lane and it looked as though we might be going all the way to the Darwen roundabout. That didn't happen but while me and Alan Price were fighting for 5th position I thought my left foot had either gone numb or was dropping uncontrollably. Then came the left hand bend where it all blew up, literally; the crank arm dropped to the floor! Cue a loud rendition of "F*** THIS!" and a mad scramble to find some grass to park up on. Mark Titchener's allen keys came to the rescue but it was difficult to ascertain exactly how well the bolts were torqued up. We decided it was good to go but it appeared as though it was merely the beginning of the end for the doomed chainset as its teeth are seriously worn down and they are munching the chain (which itself had only been cleaned after Friday's bucket session ride where I spotted Ste Francis out, sorry 5 star I was YOLOING my way to a 34kmh average speed). With Matt, Mark and a few others now thinking "who the f*** gave this guy a sponsorship deal" we continued once more down the descent but the normally easy like Sunday morning roads here were more like a cross country course, prompting me to wonder whether we'd find any more actual roads and indeed whether the crank arm would hold out. Happily we were soon out into Bamber Bridge and with a bit of "leaning into" the bottom bracket I could at least help the crank arm stay put despite the nasty back roads of Ulnes Walton Lane trying to jar the loose drivetrain item free, or as it turned out, successfully break off a big chunk of my rear mudguard. As the US Military would say, adapt, improvise, overcome. Before we knew it we were in Midge Hall en route to Croston where I could push the pace at the front in hashtag bulkup mode to 23mph (as in use half of the cadence exhibited by others) before Matt directed us right for the final push, Mawdesley through to the Hoscar Moss and home.

YES PLEASE MATT, PUT MY 55/42 CHAINSET ON THE SAME ORDER AS YOURS

The next few miles were too technical even for the non-Chinook participants to really put the hammer down as it was similar to the Southport CC Friday rides of decades past but after passing the Robin Hood the usual suspects started opening up the whoop-ass cans while the rest of us prayed for a miracle through the minefield that is Mawdesley village. No-one was in the mood for food, preferring instead to power through to the Eagle and Child then the Hoscar Moss. Things did get more than a bit silly here, because what should have been a two lane situation with some healthy through and off instead ended up as a barging match to get a chance at a suicidal attack across the bridge and to the railway line which naturally meant that I started shouting things like "DESTROY THEM ALL" as if you didn't know that race season is just around the corner. Matt had got away as part of the mini break which explains why so many wanted to knock the champ off his perch but he then tracked back at the petrol station to check on the backmarkers leaving just eight for the final run down Dark Lane. Here I got talking to Ronnie our good German mate about his triathlon history; shame he doesn't run any more or else Alan would have a companion for his 15-milers in preparation for his triple Ironman. Then he got his first experience of that legendary phrase: YOLO! That's right, in keeping with today's theme Stefan completed his throwback performance by hammering everyone just like back in the day while me and Ronnie got an armchair view and crossed the line together a fair distance in arrears. All that remained was to cross St Helens Road before going separate ways and with my crank arm still staying alive I finished with Tour de Bridge Street before turning right past Morrisons and then up and down the last hill to home at 12:30 before beginning a huge bike clean/structural survey on the decrepitness of the antiquated machine and compiling a shopping list (sorry Matt don't think I really need a set of wheels, whichever stock wheels come off my next TT bike will suffice) All in all a real character building 56 miler in the bag in cold conditions, completing a great hat trick to open the year.

Now for the results, in association with Rob and Alan's favourite stopover, the Lancaster House Hotel:

Distance: 90.48km/56.55 miles
Time: 3:05:05
Average Speed: 29.33kmh/18.33mph
Horses: 9
Dead Chainsets: 1
Broken Mudguards: 2, one of which combustibly exploded
Dangerous Descents: 1
Post Ride Nutrition: Cheese toastie, green salad, scones with butter and jam and a pot of tea

REJECT OF THE RIDE: FSA Chainset, 2013 Bianchi Sempre cast-off
(At least I can upgrade to attack-off-the-front gears now)

Six days to go before the big one at the Fiveways. Time to get those extra miles in and appetites worked up before me and JP eat all the vegetables............