A Ride of Remembrance and Reverance - 2018 HMCC Curtain Call

The final Sunday ride of 2018 attracted around 50 people to the shop for the 9am start. We expected four groups to form, with the ever faster racers pushing themselves to death on Paul Moy's wheel (nothing is EVER fast enough) and Cathy Jenkins was on call to take the C group featuring the one and only JP - as in not the one I defeated at the Chester Round the Walls race. That left around 20 riders, essentially A plus B, to join Neil Pollington's ride to Hoghton Towers and the site of the feed station on the now-deceased Roman Road Challenge, before looping home via Brindle. Neil's group set off last, beginning with Dark Lane.

WHO ATE ALL THE VEG? WELL NOT JUST ME

I set off on the right side of Row 3 next to Rhian Williams whose choice of purple was just as distinctive as my orange helmet. It's also the colour I can wind Chicago Bears fan David Rodgers up with given his team will likely have to face the Minnesota Vikings twice on consecutive weekends. We crested Greetby Hill and made our way down Dark Lane towards the Hoscar Moss, but as we reached the tight right hander we had to park up for a couple of mechanicals. First, Chris Cooke couldn't get his mudguard to sit away from the tyre and Charlotte, who eats even more good stuff than me and likes adding muscle for hashtag GAINZ, had a problem with the seatpost. Clearly that's what more power does, it breaks bike parts, but I'm loving the Deda RHM02 handlebars Matt fitted a couple of weeks ago and used them to good effect to make a shorter reach position and more forearm work on Charlotte style sprints. On resumption we crept through the minefield of bumps at the petrol station then past the Ring O'Bells to the railway line where Neil did the first positional shift allowing just one new face on the front each time. This lifted me to row 2 and so far was so good as I was vindicated by the double decision not to drink last night in the pub and also to avoid John Hill and Co. In the best Chinook opening for a long time, it was a swift dash round the bridge corner and towards the T-junction, but for once we carried on towards Rufford Marina, with a fine misty rain now falling steadily. During this passage of play I got to the front alongside Mark Legend Lane who's looking forward to some sportives next year, which got me thinking. I joined the club in 2010 and we had racers, sportive riders and social members. Given how fast the bike racers are, and given that some of us save events with swimming and (more often) running for box office race days, why not do away with Gareth Olley's recommendations and go back to those three group concepts? We certainly agreed that given the immense pace of the 10 John Hills, us triathletes/marathon runners/Ironman prospects didn't really owe the bunch race bunfighters anything, rather we'd just like finish line tickets for their wins at Pimbo in 2019. Meanwhile, we went down the A59 to the Croston turn off and handed over possession of the front, which got me alongside Ronny the Deliveroo Man from Germany, then James the Builder from Ormskirk. Two great characters who I've enjoyed many a great ride with. It was tight through Croston and past the sports club, but we turned right past the little cafe then round to the left out of the village for Moss Side, where I marvelled at the unique design of Clare's new helmet; not seen something so distinctive since the days of Catlike (Louise the Limar will appear again soon, my Specialized might be great for MTB but it's like a lead weight on my head on long road rides) We weren't on this road for long though, as the main objective was going north for our destination.

TOUR DES ROMAN ROADS, SANS FEED ZONE, IN REVERSE-REVERSE

We made our way through Midge Hall and towards the railway line near the garden centre but were slowed considerably by both a rolling piss stop (make of that what you will) and the tight corners and large group size. Not that is really mattered as we were enjoying a cracking ride out on various stretches of roads which alternated between the Roman Road Reverse and some of our routes to Fleetwood and Knott End of years past. A right turn had us on the back road to Penwortham where for once no tourist groups were coming the other way. Instead we did our usual route through the back of the housing estate before finally coming out at Bamber Bridge, but here the group got more than a little scattered as first we thought we were going left at the lights only to see the riders at the back go right. This led to quite a Benny Hill chase as we reversed on our RRR route to catch the new leaders, and I hit speeds of up to 25mph in chasing back, before spotting that the group had pulled over in the lay by near the bridge underpass. It's an easy set of bollards for the likes of Neil and Rhian to negotiate but for those of us who were dizzy at 70mph yesterday morning in the pitch black (hence why I missed out on a second place at the Stadt Moers Parkrun, to say nothing of the bollard incident) it was very unnerving. I was relieved not to have been dropped during the course of this super technique section and begin the climb towards Hoghton Tower in good field position, namely in the top 6. Neil asked the leaders to park up at the church, but even they couldn't have imagined what dietary trickery one rider would have up his sleeve (or in his back pocket)

C IS FOR CLIMBING, COLIN, CHINOOK AND CARROTS

I passed our purple powerhouse as we passed the pub offering Fosters for £2.45 a pint at the start of the climb. Neil was right when he said it was a long drag and I was relieved not to be dropping off the back of Paul and Colin and Ian was on mighty fine form too, as he looks to the United States of Europe for another mountain journey (avec disc brakes as approved by John Faz). We passed the turnoff for the Sirloin and yet there was still the church and the visitors centre between us and the top. We weren't sure whether to park up immediately or carry on to the junction for Brindle so we did a few donut laps round the turnoff point and I dug around in my pocket for melon fingers. Or so I thought! In the rush to get out of the house I'd got the orange melon and orange carrots mixed up and now had a packet of carrot batons to munch through at the first opportunity. Of course, everyone knows they're a cheap and safe way of staying tanned during the winter months as well as a perfect source of energy, even Charlotte was most impressed by how my entire ride nutrition only cost 13p (well apart from the Arbonne fizz stick). Eventually we returned to the peak of the climb to find that an unidentified rider had turned off earlier having been feeling the pace for quite some time. A few years ago I'd have ordered them to swap the sausage rolls for six salads a day and told them to lose weight, but nowadays I recognise that people can be fast in many ways (remember John Faz thinking about a "fat but fast" training plan, now there's a thought for my BTF level 2 curriculum). In addition I only really turn horrible nowadays when Paul Moy lives up to his horrible reputation or someone is barking orders, in which case I have to "out beast the beast" to declare an unofficial war. None of that today, just proper good guys and girls riding, especially Ronny, who Charlotte noted was riding in shorts in 10c weather; he countered that it's much colder in Germany during the winter months so today was positively boiling. We were cooling down a little too much for my liking and that of the runner crossing the road next to us, obviously he mused the Ribble Valley 10k entry and tried to re-enact the route today in his own area. We saw him once again once we turned onto the road for Brindle and we followed this route all the way to the pub and church, where we turned left past the school and then up the hill, where I got a good discussion with Colin about who's doing various sportives in 2019. Shame that Fred Whitton is always the same week as the Nantwich Triathlon, but then again it'll also be the LFC title party at Anfield in the afternoon and not even Dave Atkinson wants to miss that. We reached the top of the hill with the group now starting to splinter in different places and from here we dropped down the hill at lightning speed towards the water station, which was great fun to go bouncing through especially if you had fat tyres on as per my friend's Scott winter bike, which I would see later on a visit to her house in Burscough. For now, I took the lead off Paul on the way down to the T-junction and towards Shaw Brow. We wouldn't ride up today, but we were still slowed by a white horse who was very calm as we flew past at over 20mph, turning sharply for the left hand hairpin onto the A6 for all of 500 metres, before beginning the run for home via Dawsons Lane.

FORGOT THE STOPWATCH, BUT I'M SURE I RAN ROUND CHESTER QUICKER THAN THAT

Much to the bemusement of two more runners, I refused to change down a gear in the opening mile of this stanza as I wanted to regain the lost muscle from a few months ago, as Charlotte would say it's all about GAINZ. So I was still out front with Colin as we approached Buckshaw Village, but rather than turn towards the dog kennels we went left at the lights for the residential complex near Merlin Cycles. They weren't open today so there was no chance of looking to see if the Gemsie's bike was available in my size but me and Colin were still in front when we turned off the main road only to be stopped at School Lane by a puncture. And today's victim was Rhian's front Continental Ultra Sport 25mm. The process of removing the tyre was fine, but it was a right hassle to find a suitable pump or Co2 canister for the new tube, and we weren't really sure what caused it given that Rhian had been riding on a slow deflation for around ten miles. So certainly not a pothole. While this was playing out I munched the remaining carrot batons and went for a piss stop which definitely helped lighten the load in more ways than one for the homeward stretch, that was if we got to it; I'm sure that's what Forme Man was thinking as he powered out of the junction coming the other way. Eventually, after send me back and forth as the messenger for Clare's supply of canisters and a wait of probably 26 minutes 23 seconds (as in longer than it took me to beat JP at the RTW race in Chester) we got going again, turning right onto School Lane. We returned to the main roads at the BP before hurtling down the hill on the A49 and turning right down our favourite Back Lane, slowed as we were by a speeding motorist who needed to be told properly. We could stop sweating once we reached Eccleston and the road past the Farmer's Arms, but soon we were onto Tincklers Lane and the final run for home via either the Hoscar Moss, or a three stop strategy. Rufford, Burscough and Booths anyone?

FOUR SOYA MILKS WITH AN AMERICANO AND A CHIP BARM? THAT TRUMPS ALL

I got back out front as we approached the Robin Hood, and put on a good demonstration of how to use gears Chinook style on the road to Mawdesley. At the turnoff for the cafe only me and Charlotte chose to go right, and at the end of Black Moor Road she too headed for home, leaving me to ride solo to the marina and pick up a fat American style chip barm, and an Americano with soya milk. They don't have soya milk in the fridge as apparently they don't often see any of the 3.5 million people who've gone vegan, so naturally I got no less than four pots of soya milk - one for every six months of The Orange One's presidency. I got to catch up with Laura Williams who'd set off on her own ride, and Emma who's back in the game with her distinctively liveried Giant and had come from Southport. I was sitting down just as they left and I immediately started the brief summary you read most weeks. After demolishing the delicious chip barm and all four soyas in record time I bombed it down the A59 towards Burscough, stopping at my friend's  house to marvel at her winter bike complete with tyres even John Faz would approve of. Plans were made for the party at the end of the week and I must say the tea with almond milk was superb. After a 20 minute park up I continued towards Booths to blag an espresso and two more vegan sushi pots (normally £3.30 but I got them for 66p). I couldn't stuff any more such items away so used the tops of my bibtights and rode away down the A59 and up the hill with a new spring in my pedal stroke, eventually parking up at home having covered a brilliant 51 miles. Thank you Neil for a great ride, this group will smash its cycling goals in 2019 no doubt about it.

Now for the results, in association with Deliveroo:

Distance: 82.04km
Time: 2:58:17
Average Speed: 27.61kmh
Dead Inner Tubes: 1
Other Mechanicals: 2
Horses: 1
Runners: 3
Cafe Stop Nutrition: 10/10 (Chip barm and rocket fuel Americano with soya milk, now you're talking)

REJECT OF THE RIDE: HMCC Pit Crew
(Pumps, Co2 canisters and levers aplenty and the refuelling and piss stop elements were still more efficient)

Time to sign off for 2018. It's been quite a year, one where greater than ever achievements went in the books but also one where the ever varying goals of individuals made for some pretty challenging groups to ride in. And it was also a tragic year, which overshadowed everything. For Rick and Gary, this one's for you. We go and enjoy ourselves on New Year's Eve, then we unite once more as HMCC in 2019 and push on to bigger and better things. Choose your goal and make it your year!