Dirty Dozen play "Dodge the Death Wind"

With Matt taking the Race group to the middle of nowhere, we had four groups forming at the shop for the 9am departure. Two B groups were on offer, with Howie being the comeback kid to offer words of wisdom about the 312 while a C group rode to Farmer Ted's. Not to stop for animal produce though, thank God for that. As such we had a dozen takers for DNA's A group to include a few lumps and bumps first, before a long slog into the wind triathletes would no doubt approve of. DNA set off second, beginning with the cricket club.

WELL THAT'S ONE WAY TO CONSERVE ENERGY FOR THE RUN, GOOD CALL STEPHEN

I set off on the right side of Row 5 after a bit of bullying to get there, just so I could be sure of doing work on the front. I'm aware that I almost swallowed Mark le Titch while in the act of taking up position and that's not big or clever, but at least it showed willing. We began with a route that was actually the reverse of my Saturday morning beast run session when I also saw the DNA mobile (AKA the Fiat 500) parked on Alty's Lane as I was desperately trying to maintain 6 minute mile pace as only I expect. They don't call me and Emma Austin the "Hollywood Two" for nothing at St Helens Tri, after all. We passed the C group and went onto Catharine's Lane, another favourite run beast session straight of mine, before hitting Long Lane towards Bickerstaffe where I got a good chat with Ian about life in the greatest city in the world and how good the bikes are at the Giant store. Well, I did reference it last week when talking about the baltic social and American IPA. It was tough going in the first few miles because the crosswind was particularly biting for those on the right side of the formation including me, who don't like being blown off on 35mm deep wheels. Eventually we reached rather more sheltered lands including the first part of the Bickerstaffe TT course where Stephen Graham, who obviously wanted an extra half hour in bed, joined us halfway down the starting ramp and was straight into his element as we made our way to the Holdi roundabout before crossing the carriageway to Rainford. Here, John Faz assumed the front and I immediately started murmuring "it's going to be fast" while hearing ten choruses of Pirates of the Carribean in my ears (brain?) on the run through Rainford towards the Crawford junction. We slogged onwards into the headwind until the roundabout we'll no doubt revisit tomorrow night on the St Helens Tri run session before heading northwards towards the Pimbo garden centre, where Faz the f***ing legend used up his remaining power by going full Charlotte Newton BADASS mode and lighting it up all the way through Tower Hill to the turnoff for Appley Bridge. I thought we would go straight to Standish but instead the call came to go back to Billinge and do Shaley from the easier side.

NOT SO MANY GIGGLES, JUST TURNING UP THE WICK

As already alluded to, I was surprised we were seemingly headed back towards Ormskirk but it turned out DNA had a plan to make us work and use up body fat early by climbing the easier side of Shaley. Now I had been enjoying a good conversation with Carl Hammal about my upcoming trip to Long Preston on the edge of the Yorkshire Dales, when I'll also visit Gargrave, Dent and, you guessed it, Giggleswick, but I think I should take Paloma the Panther (my MTB) to build #strength on the off road climbs rather than a road bike because while Danny Shearer used his 64kg chassis to pull away, Carl almost caught him at the line and I was left to hold onto third place at the summit of Shaley before losing two more places to Mr Do Everything AKA Colin Clark and Steve Williams who was apparently powered by a curry from the night before. That's my vegan nom nomz sorted for my trio away, then. On the restart DNA demanded "no hiding" which I'd already pre-empted by insistently attacking over the bridge with Carl and all the way up Billinge Hill round the back of the housing estate and past the ice cream parlour which disappointingly doesn't have any offers for non dairy sorbet. MUST do better. Anyway, DNA apparently needed a piss stop so me and Carl once again set a good, steady 21mph tempo in the hope of finding a bush for such "use". But none eventuated and soon we were handing over to Emma (not my St Helens Tri teammate) who pushed us on our way back to the Billinge roundabout, under the bridge and up the first part of the Standish climb. I thought we would go to the top but at the co-op DNA decided to take in the detached bungalows of the local area and then the route to the water pumping station, which unlike "Easy Shaley" required use of the little ring just as I was contemplating turning off early with Ian as I was seriously struggling for spark, given I'd been out until late with the Philharmonic concert where the Tchaikovsky 1st piano concerto was performed and the kids sang about GHOSTS (but not Kevin Murphy). In fact we weren't at all troubled by the gradient past the SPAR shop and the United Utilities base, instead staying together with a big push on the pedals as we headed up the hill for Wiggo Corner. Here, I lost a place to DNA on the left side of the formation but at least I was now closer to returning to the front. But that would be of no relevance whatsoever as we embarked on part 3, the best tailwind ever.

WHO NEEDS BRAKES ANYWAY, JUST PEDAL TO THE METAL 

We were now rocketing through Wrightington at speeds of over 25mph with Emma and Stephen Graham on the front. I particularly liked the shape of Emma's Carnac aero helmet for #morespeed as the pace hit 28mph on some downhills. It was on one of those, with a climb into Eccleston to come, where the temporary traffic lights made an early bid for the Reject award by changing to red at the worst possible moment. I know it happens regularly in Gathurst, but this really took the biscuit. Now we had to honk on the pedals in 52x11 to get going again and this really proved time consuming in our pursuit of two HMCC riders, one of which was JJ with a Cannondale rider who looked like they were enjoying themselves. We turned right where they went left and this huge effort continued to the turn for Midge Hall. Mysteriously, DNA had lost his urge to water any flowers, but Carl Had a serious issue with his front brake in that it wouldn't engage with a loose bolt so a quick parkup was needed to fix the offending item, let a horse and carriage trot past at speed and me to shovel down a banana and throw the skin quarterback style over the road which  was just the sort of throw I expect from Joe Flacco now he's taken Case Keenum's job in Denver. Eventually we got going, with Ian a little agitated because he needed to be in Manchester for 2pm so he turned left at Twin Lakes while the rest of us continued in the name of burning more body fat for the run through Croston, where HGV Man was considerably more considerate than a couple of drivers earlier on. This let us plus two new found chumz enjoy a peaceful ride until the headwind returned on the A59 for Tarleton.

WHEN IN DOUBT, POOSH 52X11 AND AVOID THE COAST ROAD

In October 2017 we did Shore Road with Ste Francis shouting "POOSH" every 10 seconds, so naturally it was a relief to not have to out beast the beast on such an exposed stretch of road. Instead, Colin and Dan took up the pace making, which was a relief to some of us, but not to the backmarkers who were now seriously struggling to hang on with depleted energy resources. We reached the left turn for the headwind where everyone was amazed to see me stay upright but with Danny now handing over to me, the big question was coast road or no coast road? The Beast of September 2018 had long since turned off by now leaving a select few to "manage" the route and pace so Colin took us past the botanical gardens where Mark le Titch turned off for coffee and DNA ordered me to just keep riding. At this point I was totally convinced he'd designed the entire rise around killing me off, but as we reached the prom it became apparent that some were favouring a refuel. Oh dear DNA, look what you've done now. An own goal to give Mr 5 Miles to the energy bar a free run home. That wouldn't come up just yet as Colin had a few interesting ideas, including a short cut past Morrisons petrol station (at least once Renault Megane Man got his fat a**e in gear) and through the posh houses of Birkdale including those owned by Kenny Dalglish and Alan Hansen. We plummeted down the railway bridge descent and then onwards to Ainsdale where salvation was on offer in the form of Mecycle.

Coffee all round it was then, and bakewell slices were the order of the day, at least once I'd stopped infuriating the staff as to whether they'd used dairy in making it. Luckily I got a NAK'D bar plus soya latte while others went for coke and San Pellegrino Limonata. They'd stopped serving any hot food so at least no-one could claim a free advantage over He Who Is Powered By Plants. Conversation topics included skiing trips to the Alps and whether it was worth joining HMCC for the Sunday rides in Bala. Turns out no, they'll all be exhausted and wasted by 11pm on the Saturday. Think I'll go CHINOOKING (racing) instead. Come 12:45pm it was time to head for home, with a golf club version of the chainey being the return route.

ANY TIME YOU BEAT YOUR RACE DISTANCE, IT'S A GREAT RIDE (YES STEVE?)

We left Ainsdale and turned right at the Shell garage through Ainsdale past the car garages who failed to beat the Yaris 18 months ago. As we turned off for the golf club and the Sparrowhawk I saw the odometer nudge towards the 90km mark and I was now quite relaxed even when a 4x4 drove past shouting "your legs aren't turning"..........seriously WTF IS YOUR PROBLEM? Anyway we reached the ex-MJ's now McD's junction previously known as Tesco, before vaulting over the Formby Cycles bridge and across the final segment of the chainey route for one last effort with the crosswind. DNA handed over at the Gastropub leaving me and Steve to finish everyone's legs off into Ormskirk but Carl took the final climb up Formby Lane with me screaming "BREAK THOSE LEGS NOW". Yes, peeps, I'm back to full beast shouting mode. Or to put it another way, when Charlotte's not about, Chinook will shout. Eventually we reached Turnpike Road and I could now turn right for my road having beaten the 90km mark with room to spare. That's how you do half Ironman training, only six months to go...........

Now for the results, powered by Emma's choice, San Pellegrino:

Distance: 102.54km
Time: 3:29:58
Average Speed: 29.3kmh
Sunday Drivers: 3
Horses: 4
Hors Cat Climbs: 2
Dead Brake Calipers: 1
Cafe Stop Rating: 6/10 (where was the falafel, hummus and vegan cake?)

REJECT OF THE RIDE: The traffic lights in Eccleston
(For ruining our average speed and nearly breaking a couple of gearboxes)

Enjoy your ride next week, I'm off to the Yorkshire Dales then back for the final Penny Lane Striders cross country of the winter in Birchwood. In any case keep kicking those miles up, more stress = more miles = more WINS!