S is for Sheephouses and "Shake, Rattle and Roll"

The first of the spring/summer weather and the appearance of a few summer bikes, or at least winter bikes with mudguards removed, brought around 50 people to the shop today for the 9am start. We would get no less than five groups, with Mick taking the C's out to Southport and including a quiz, not sure how that would work but then again maybe he's looking for a few new ride reporters. Two B rides were also on offer, one going to Rivington while John Hesketh led the star ride of the day out to Subway in Mellor, much to Rhian's delight. She was rather happier once she saw what a couple of A group riders were up to; I'll leave her and Luke to fill you out on the details but it appeared as though Luke was finding his new Castelli jacket a bit uncomfortable together with a mesh base layer. He would join me on one of two top tier group offerings; while Matt joined returnees Annette and Martyn on a trip down Dark Lane, Steve Depport's eleven-strong group would include Ian and Darren (bang goes my recovery after the 10- mile Project Leicester beast mode run the other day), Luke on his California 56ers bike (mine yet to be taken out this year) and, in the biggest story of the day, JP! That's right, not only was JP out with the group who have been holding a scud missile to his head as if to say "you're coming with us whether you want to or not" but he would join Steve Depport on the front as we headed out of Ormskirk on the A577, beginning with the run towards one of my own house-hunting venues, Westhead.

MUDGUARD RUBBING? ALMOST AS GOOD RESISTANCE TRAINING AS SITTING BEHIND RHIAN ON THE MELLOR RIDE

We set off past more than a few "For Sale" signs as the first few miles took in the Halton Castle, Crosshall Brow and the climb up Dicks Lane towards the Plough. It's funny how often a sense of deja vu comes over you on a Sunday ride, as only two days ago I was shouting at my legs coming the other way up the A577 into Ormskirk. They were barely wanting to move after forcing sub-6:30 miles, all ten of them, on my race pace rehearsal for Leicester on 23 October the day before and I was only too happy to have an "excuse" to stop for a few minutes, buy my new Giro Westerly gloves which came in so handy today, and devour a carrot cake slice from Waterfields. Today, though, I was in the group where it's all about shutting up and doing the work no matter how bad you feel and at least I hadn't been racing like Tom was yesterday at the Eddie Soens. He's got a great new pair of Specialized Caterham Green road shoes which would match up very nicely for those being a cheapskate and spending the Cervelo P3 fund on the Shiv Elite (go look it up, Caterham green is much more "of the moment" than Jaguar green) but neither of us were felling all that good as the workout began up through Stormy Corner to Vale Lane. Here, Cobbs Brow was blocked off so we had to go through Whalleys to get to the Beacon sideroad. In a foretaste of things to come, Luke shot past the group and a few choice comments were made around the peloton like "go on chase him down". But no-one was really up for chasing early doors and the next bit of fun was only around the corner, literally, as we bombed the descent before the turn onto Hillock Lane. Here, Felt Man (sorry don't know your name) had a gearbox mini-explosion normally reserved for He Who Won't Use Little Gears but we were soon back together again through the narrow, twisty descent onto Lees Lane. I thought we'd get a fast run at the Endurance Store headquarters but instead "PUNCTURE" was heard. It actually wasn't a dead inner tube, rather a flapping mudguard giving us grief as Mark on the Trek Madone had a rear Crud Roadracer Mark 2 which just wouldn't sit straight. After a few minutes trying to get it to stay put he admitted defeat and lobbed it into a bush to retrieve sometime later today, at least unless anyone doing the Parbold Duathlon wanted it for their TT bike. After I took the shameful opportunity to shovel down a granola square we set off towards the pumping station, but instead of doing the left-right double-turn we simply went right which allowed more Strava attacking from Luke. He was lucky to get away with this one though; Toyota Man and Daewoo Man bombed past the peloton, nearly hitting oncoming traffic, and were flabbergasted to see such an easy breakaway. It must be that f***ing awesome SL4 frame that does the trick, but in any case we were all back together again on the run towards Standish and the M6 junction. Truth be told, I was feeling so lousy at this point that I was wishing I'd entered the Parbold race on my Tarmac and things didn't get any better after being stopped at the temporary traffic lights. Indeed, we passed Disco Dan and a female companion thinking he was going to jump us through Haigh Hall, but the only people doing any jumping here were Luke and Darren, the former because he was doing a bit of race training today, the latter because he's off to Mallorca the day after the 312. After the breakaways came to naught at the bridge, the calls came to ease off, then turn right through the golf club. Now there's a thought for recovery walks when you do so many beast sessions every week, buy that bungalow on Smithy Lane and you know where the nearest leisure club is. How much for a set of golf clubs I wonder?

SO WE'VE LOST A MUDGUARD, A SADDLE BAG AND NOW A CHAIN. HOW ABOUT A BOTTLE BEFORE DOING FOXHOLES - OH HANG ON A MINUTE..........

Luke got the jump on everyone at the foot of the day's second climb and I decided to chase after him, dodging walkers, joggers and a couple of cars as we did so. Inevitably his climbing prowess won out but I was more than happy to rest up at the pub bench near the cobbles, and the pair of us were quite a sight as Luke put his feet up on his top tube and said "I wonder if they'll do us a pint" - well I think the most we'd have downed would have been a double JD and coke before the remaining riders arrived, but on the restart a few interseting things happened. First, the world's slowest Vauxhall Corsa refused to flash us through ahead on the road, then proceeded to split the group at 20mph leaving me at the head of Group 2 doing absolutely bugger all work. Well, who needs to work when you can just hide behind other vehicles? Indeed, me and Luke would be the only ones from Group 2 to grab the tail of Group 1 as it turned out that Darren had lost his saddle bag on the gradual descent after the cobbles. Typically there was no branding on this bag but I do know it was mainly black with a silver no-name label on it, this only being inspected for loose bits because a few riders took the opportunity to take a piss stop - in full view of the traffic no less. And the fun wasn't over yet; on the restart we were muscling our way up the road towards Horwich when Darren managed to use his brute force to dislodge something else, this time his chain, which led to a quick park-up at the roundabout where left is Rivington, right is the home of the Horwich Triathlon. Luke tried to get away on the move after the pedestrian crossing but Steve Depport had a new idea; why not do Foxholes, and an even harder version than the one we normally do? Opinion was pretty split on this one as to what constituted easy and what was hard, but the air of mystery did nothing to help me and after Luke and Tom inevitably got away early, so too did Darren and Mark, then Steve rounded me just before the off-road segment and yet again I was reduced to a jibbering, overheating wreck on the rough stuff which so nearly led to me getting JP'D; only a late chase to join Steve Depport saved me from a sure relegation to the group our Strava hunter used to frequent. I say "used to frequent" because Darren himself reminded JP that he would have to come many times to fully become an A rider (though STRAVAIZING the Trough descent to steal a pasty from Dunsop Bridge will be permitted as long as you join me, all welcome) but still, a mid-table finish was not what I had in mind for the first use of the little ring. So quite a down in the dumps start to the bit where I always beat myself up if I don't perform, but then the ride began to come back to me. First, I took time off from snarling at those who got up the climb ahead of me to remove the arm warmers, and this would prove to be pivotal on the short punch up Matchmoor despite the best efforts of the local stables owners to let their babies loose on us. I joined Phil McDonald on this ascent, then decided to descend solo; this downhill has given me nightmares even when it's been smooth, today's version was full of water-filled potholes and I'm amazed the group didn't come off when descending en masse. Not for me; instead I parked up solo at the walled garden and shovelled down a second granola square, nicely toasted both by my own heat and the rising sun. This cooled my nerves somewhat, and together with a good discussion with Darren about where I might move to in the near future, gave me a bit of a feelgood factor as we approached the final big climb of the day, the easy side of Belmont.

L IS FOR LIMBRICK, LONDIS AND "LOOK WHERE YOU'RE GOING"

Luke tried his usual opening gambit but Tom was onto him but earlier than before and showed he'd recovered from the strains of racing in recent weeks to take a well-deserved win. Meanwhile I was amazed to find that my rather pedestrian attacking instincts only had one predator chasing my tail, namely Trek Mark, who of course had the added bonus of not trailing an errant mudguard any more. Our two-man roadblock at least assured me that I would get a better placing than on the Foxholes mud run variant, but even better, I was able to pedal gradually away from today's breakout rider and snatch the final podium position, possibly my most satisfying ascent of Belmont to date. Things got a bit hairy on the descent as I set a new Belmont descent PB of 65kmh only to get swept up by a few nutjobs intent on taking the downhill segment, and I got further spooked when a motorbike coming the other way wanted to share the cattle grid with me, but I got to the bottom and compared chainring sizes with Luke, who unbelievably has 54x38 as standard - for the mast and everything! In addition, I found out that me and Tom Hanlon are pretty much the same weight despite him being three inches taller than me - what on earth am I going to look like at the end of Project Leicester? At least I won't be struggling to find somewhere to eat a multiple CHEESE pizza will I? In fact, Tom would play a starring role in the day's next prang as we crossed the reservoir; he was caught out for once by the traffic ahead and nearly did a CHINOOK on poor Alan Price who nonetheless shows great guts and determination every week to power round with the A group; the B groupers who wrecked the Mothers Day ride should take note. Next up was Limbrick, where I was expecting JP to appear from nowhere to steal the segment only for Tractor Man to pull out of the side road near Cocker Farm and hold us all up. Or to put it another way, any excuse for a breather. The road here is in a pretty awful state, and you just wonder how much further it can be cut into - literally - at Wednesday's spring statement at No. 10. One person running a bit low on supplies was Luke, who wanted to refill his bottle. So we pulled over on the outskirts of Chorley, but I noticed there was nowhere for him to lock his bike up. So I thought it best to defend the proverbial base and just use THE ARM on anyone dumb enough to try and run off with it, only to reverse straight into the village midget who was at the centre of the day's biggest comedy moment "you're not safe anywhere are you" and the calls from over the road confirmed to all of us that he would indeed appear in the report. See, little guy, your mum always told you that you'd be famous one day. I relayed this to Luke and assured him that the dwarf would never have got his leg over the top tube crossbar, so I thought it best to sit on the guy instead. He was very thankful for my quick thinking and after he'd filled his bottle up we were off again towards Chorley itself, where the traffic had us stopping on more than one occasion. Here, Steve Depport took to the front and would put in probably the longest stint I've seen anyone do in the lead all year as we continued to pedal at a steady pace through Euxton and on towards the A49 crossing, where I got into a good discussion with today's headline-grabber from Kirkby about the plans several family members have to run a 5k. I presume that HMRC does NOT stand for Harry Middleton Running Club, but here's a thought JP: take them to the Princes parkrun on Good Friday, do the 5k then get your bike out the car and join the 312 crew on their 130 mile Wirral Loop! We got stopped at temporary roadworks a few times, but at least we can say they're doing something about the road surface near Midge Hall. In addition, we found a THIRD loose component on Darren's bike, namely his rear mudguard. It really must be summer bike time soon mustn't it - to say nothing of the loose BB cup appearing on my left side crank arm from attacking Trek Mark up Sheephouses. By now I was talking to JP about the new appointment at St James' Park, and whether Rafa Benitez would keep his team in the Premier League. That would be a question for us as well; hanging in there or being pushed out the group? We were about to find out.

2017 SUMMER RIDE RULE CHANGE: "A" GROUP FOR BICYCLE LOUNGE BOUGHT MACHINES ONLY, THESE SPECIALIZED RIDERS CAN SET UP THEIR OWN GROUP

Croston wasn't as busy as normal, which gave us an easy run across the bridge and towards Rufford. Steve Depport was still doing a sterling job out front and was quick to comment on Ian Gallagher's sneak away from the pack as the traffic held most of us up on entry to the A59. This fragmented the remaining riders in all directions and as I saw Luke draw alongside me on the left, I thought "don't hold him up he's on the Morgan-Hill team with me". He put in quite an attack to try and reel Ian in but he only succeeded in passing the Orbea well after the Rufford sign and even though I really do have split loyalties here being between a Formby squirrel and someone with the same summer bike as me, ultimately the adjudicator's decision is final and must be made one way or the other. A terrific escape from Ian to take the finish line and prove once and for all he really is the body double of Sensa Giulia Man aka James who beasted me across the moss this morning and ruined my warm-up (I swear blind I looked round and thought it was Ian until I saw there was no BIG O on his head tube). James, if you're reading this, please join us in the A group next time so I can use you as my lead-out man. Oh, and get yourself a new bike. But should it be a Specialized? Hmm......

Well, Phil and Alan turned left for the Hoscar Moss and for all I know they might have gone the cafe but enough people either didn't want to stop or wanted to lose weight in preparation for racing season or going to Mallorca so carried on towards my favourite unfavourite back road, Curlew Lane. The dreaded segment of road itself isn't as daunting as it once was so it was no surprise to see Luke sneak round the outside of Darren to try and prime those legs for yet more road races this year, but in keeping with today's theme, you just knew that one of me or him was going to steal the headlines off JP. And so it proved; for no apparent reason, his rear wheel snapped sideways and sent him to the floor at pretty much the exact same place I binned it just over a year ago. It was a hideous looking accident and I nearly ran over his sunglasses, and indeed as he tried to sit up it looked as though he'd need an ambulance, so we were only too grateful that a couple of other riders plus a 4x4 showed some concern. Among the damage was his new Castelli top and bibtights, both Dura-Ace 11-speed shifters and a bit of the bar tape, and his helmet had hit the deck too; this in particular was very spooky for me given I'm waiting for scan results for issues thought to be connected with last year's Curlew Lane Clanger. Most held back for quite some time to help out but Ian and Darren needed to be home pretty sharpish so me and JP joined them, wished Luke well and set off for the road where I've got this house viewing tomorrow. But even this was eventful; two idiots gave us some verbals no the short road approaching the Martin Inn and then today's prize prat who would have easily won the ROTR prize under "no Specialized bike owners" rules cam past us. We had indicated right for Smithy Lane for at least five seconds, and the white van was behind us for the full duration, but just as Darren moved to turn right he blasted past us, and gave us an earful of his horn too! The middle finger went up from Mr Catlike and this certainly took the shine off my opportunity to show off my prime target on the right side of the road. At the A570 crossing JP turned left for home leaving me to quiz Darren on whether he was trying to do a "Kingy" on JP by forcing him to come with us for consecutive weeks (you've never heard "Kingy's" name but he was the ultimate ringleader for the "pressure group" - as in the top of the class group - at our school many years ago) and indeed we felt likes kings - KOMS that is - as we turned up North Moor Lane towards the Ship Inn. At least Darren mentioning the Good Friday ride assured me that I'd passed "the test" (more details to follow both here and on the HMCC FB page) but the road past the Ship Inn was a slow and draggy affair with all the gravel, and we were only too happy to get onto the Haskayne Moss, where it was time to hammer near-broken legs. After all, do we want to win another age group title this season or not? So the remaining miles were done at an average of a nice, steady 24mph until I decided to respond to Darren's grins and nudges forward by shouting YOLO and attacking to 28mph for the bridge. After resolving to accept peace in our time I assured them that at least one of these "bloody Specialized riders" wouldn't be there next week - details to follow in the closing credits - and I headed for home having covered 70 miles on limited food in glorious weather. Well done to Steve Depport for putting today's route together, and also to Mark on the Trek for coming from nowhere to be today's breakout star.

Now for the results, in association with Londis:

Distance: 112.1km/70.06 miles

Time: 3:57:29

Average Speed: 28.32kmh/17.7mph

Dead Bike Accessories: 2 mudguards plus a saddle bag

Hors Cat Climbs: 3

Stupid Drivers: 2 for most, 5 for the post-Curlew escapees

Crashes: 1 plus two near-misses

Post-Project Leicester 2017 Plan: The Firefighers 2-up Duathlon for me and Luke, on Caterham Green Specialized Shivs with neon yellow helmets

REJECT OF THE RIDE.

At No. 5: Any accessories on Darren's bike (you can tell summer's nearly here when bits start falling off)

At No. 4: Mark's Mudguard Swapping Policy (Cruds don't really like getting moved between bikes do they)

At No. 3: Burscough Boneheads (the two just before the Martin Inn plus White Van Man)

At No. 2: Chinook vs the little guy in Chorley (that's why me and Rob Mcleod are never allowed to be in the same group at the Fylde triathlons)

And at No. 1: Luke's Rear Wheel (can't think what else caused the bike to spin out on a STRAIGHT section of road)

Enjoy the reprise next week, I won't be there as I have a date in town with the Philharmonic Orchestra and the training choir as their yearly showcase is the big event in town. In the meantime, keep checking the forum and Facebook for the Easter Weekend rides - we could end up with record Strava distances logged for that week if we think to get started with Monday Motivation on Spring Solstice day!