S is for St Helens, Super Sam and Spanish Beef

The first decent Sunday morning of 2015 attracted over 50 riders to the shop today for the 9am start. No less than five rides were on offer, with Pam leading the C group and two B groups featuring the likes of The Leach and John Hesketh. By now we have around 30 riders every week up for a bit of A for Army Mentality training so the only solution was to split them into two distinct groups, with Wilko taking one group which apparently got a bit disorganised while a Dirty Dozen led by Steve Depport took in the headwind route to St Helens before vaulting back up north via Moss Bank and Standish. Both the A groups, minus DNA Dave's rear mudguard, headed out of town passing Morrison's as they did so.

JUST AS WELL I DIDN'T BLOW MY OPEN CORSAS TODAY

As we parked up some thought that the earliest ever cafe stop was underway after just 800 metres. Not so, although it would have been quite ironic given that Wilko's ride to Roots had no takers and that would have been considerably longer and harder on the way back, but instead this is where we split. Upon resumption of play I slotted into Row 4 alongside Howie who sold me my St Helens red Open Corsas yesterday, though he wasn't surprised to see they were being kept under wraps for now. After all, who wants to waste their chance of a PB just because of a few sharp stones round the back of Sue's house? Indeed, this is exactly where we were going early doors as we effectively started by heading by home to Formby, until we turned left onto Greens Lane and slipped and slithered our way round the torturous potholes and piles of gravel all over the road. With everyone's training tyres holding their line somewhat better than mine did this morning while trying to catch two other Formby squirrels after the Great Altcar roadblock, we looped back round to Sudell Lane and across the Northway, where we were pretty lucky not to get split too much by a particularly fast 4x4 driver. The first shuffle took place on the back road towards the A506 and this sat me alongside Neil who seemed very interested to hear of my plans to gatecrash the Wild Wales post-race party the day I'll be in Llanrwst doing the biggest triathlon of my 2015 season, and also my plans to get within five minutes of Sue's half marathon PB on the mean streets of Jose Mourinho's favourite town. Bradford, in case you hadn't worked it out (25th October, "guess my time" prediction game to follow soon). As we approached the T-junction we rounded up one rider who looked to be having a bit of bother with his drivetrain - not sure who it was but he was with Wilko's group - and I guess he joined us as the group now had a Baker's Dozen rather than a Dirty Dozen. We turned left at Melling and continued on the Aughton chainey route before heading for the Land of 58,000 Satellite Dishes. This place gets quieter every time we pass through and considerably cleaner too; maybe we should consider this area for a future road race to go along with Pimbo. Soon we were crossing the East Lancs which allowed yet more shuffling of a pack already decimated by the 120rpm tendencies of my two fellow Formby squirrels, which left Sam out front soon to be joined by yours truly. But what a second stanza it turned out to be........

IT'S BEEN A HARD DAY'S NIGHT, AND NOW I'M WORKING LIKE A DOG

There was a bit of confusion surrounding the exact way to get to St Helens via Knowsley Village but soon we were passing the original home of the Kenny Hill sportive, namely the village hall. As we approached the Texaco, a particularly excitable dog yapped at the heels of the riders on the left side of our formation and this scared the likes of Ian so much that he contemplated pulling in the garage and asking if he could use their toilet. Ye gods. As I know from the Gluco-Gel Bowl in Birchwood a couple of years ago, huge shots of adrenaline are often followed by energy epic fails, and he must have been delighted to see what happened next; Mr 50x11 out front with his fellow NFL expert Sam Wood. I haven't seen Sam's entry on the Pimbo start list for 6 September but he seemed to be finding it pretty easy going to maintain 20mph up the M57 flyover and into Prescot; clearly he wasn't riding under the influence of beef madras and four pints of Stella after last night's match. He handed over to Howie who had someone on his tail shouting "Come on, knock it off". I mentioned to Howie that "Come On" and "Knock It Off" kind of mean exact opposites in much the same way various US Governments have tried to "enforce freedom" on many politically troubled countries over the last 100 years, but now I think about it a few riders were probably still traumatized by the ROTR leaderboard-topper and were fearing an encounter with the lions in the safari park. So it was something of a relief that we arrived at Eccleston in one piece, only to then play "Ski Sunday" with the downhill dash into St Helens given the roads are so clogged with potholes. As I pointed out to Mark Titchener once I'd handed over, there won't be any money for the council to employ piano teachers in the schools if the roads are in such a state. We continued on the route to the old St Helens rugby ground until we reached the Seven Stars. Here, we continued to the new Starbucks drive-through prior to Windle Island, but turned right for the town centre before making our way to Moss Bank, with Lynchy now out front. Most of us remember this climb as not being too difficult given it's still a busy road but today no cars were in our way, which would make for quite a race to the top...........

BOLD PREDICTION: TWO "RICKS" ON THE PODIUM IN THIS YEAR'S HILLCLIMB. UNLESS WE CHEW UP THEIR CHAINS.........

As we began the climb it became apparent that it was little-ring time for the first big climb most of us had done in weeks. For me, probably the toughest one since the day the Super Six nearly got washed into the River Chorley just before Christmas. And the front mech certainly thought the same thing; it wouldn't shift down to the mini-ring and worse still, it tried to jump off. With a few drum rolls playing in my brain and a few wind-up comments coming my way the chain just about held on to its ring and I could set about beasting the first, steepest part of the climb. I got a good enough look at the top two to enjoy a thrilling battle for glory. They ran side-by-side for the first half before Sam edged ahead, but just as he thought Rick had ducked away and settled for second, the Kinesis rider flew past with a Charlie-Critchley style attack to take a brilliant victory. I'd add the pair of them to the team's road race roster right now; do you think the other teams would notice if HMCC, a couple of guest Formby squirrels on the veteran's team, and a "lone rider who got lost" wearing a St Helens Tri team kit were working together? It would put a new slant on the meaning of "pitch invader" for sure. I took third at the top of the climb but the chain then started wrapping itself round the crank arms on the descent and I was having flashbacks to Kev Bellion's encounter with Maxine on that epic Hardiman day up Belmont a couple of years ago. So I simply parked up at the T-junction and got the b****rd back on the ring while munching a banana and waiting for a few piss stops to be completed. With Darren insisting that I got the most mixed-up drivetrain ever on the ROTR leaderboard, I explained it away by mentioning that it was the wrong side of burnt orange when I went to clean it after Friday's bucket session ride round the local area. Others were discussing how to use this busy T-junction to win the Golden Stabiliser award; flying over the kerb at 35mph while wearing American Football-style body armour might just seal the deal (NFL-size legs not required otherwise I'd be the only one eligible, except my team could use a new quarterback right now). We continued northwards to Billinge en route to Wigan, where we had more than one close shave with motorists trying to pass us at dangerous moments, the worst of which was a Volkswagen Golf who frankly should be getting a whole heap of penalty points plus a hefty fine (I'd suggest the equivalent of five Open Corsas; your opinion my vary). A quick left-right got us onto the downhill dash to Wigan, enlivened briefly by Mark Titchener's pump trying to slide out of its socket. DNA Dave took over the lead on the restart and held position past the DW before the next bit of fun kicked off. Steve thought we should turn left at Challenge Way but as I pointed out, that's the route to Winstanley's Bikes. So we turned left at the next junction, much to the bemusement of a driver who knew better than we did about the "left only" lanes, but once we got rid of him we reached the aforementioned warehouse and decided to go up a dead-end, of all things. We were pretty confident that the presence of new-build houses would mean there was a walkway and sure enough, we indulged in a bit of cyclocross as we vaulted over the gate. Just like the Darwen Triathlon run route really, except without the pain of, well, running. Next was the plunge under the Gathurst railway bridge and on the restart a plethora of passing cars squeezed us for space making any attacks impossible. Upon reaching the top Darren offered to take over from Steve and we now knew that we were in for quite a beasting over the remaining miles to the cafe.

A FULL ROAST DINNER LYNCHY? THAT'S TOO MUCH EVER FOR ME...........

Unusually, we turned left pretty much as soon as possible towards Toogood Lane, which is a way of saying we weren't visiting Bradley Wiggins' hometown today. On our run past what used to be a country pub a whole load of recreational riders were being split by two horses who seemed to delight in blocking the whole road. See, it's not always a good idea to draft. The route through Mawdesley village was a very good idea - I particularly liked the run to the T-junction at what used to be the Mawdesley Eating House and Hotel - and form here we turned left up the common towards the crossroads. Here, Steve suggested we continue en masse to the cafe then go our separate ways (or time-trial all the way home if you have never-ending energy reserves) Indeed Darren looked like he was well up for that, and was only relieved of his duties out front when first Howie then me took the pace past 25mph shouting "do we want to win our own race or not" and "second place is not an option". We got stopped by one goddamn car at the T-junction which allowed Ian to have a shot at running off and hiding but Sam reeled him in and eventually powered well clear of the three Formby squirrels to take an excellent win from quite a long way out. Not that it stopped Darren from trying to get a Strava KOM over the railway line.........

Most carried straight on at the cafe but me and Mark Titchener joined John Lynch and a few of Wilko's rather fragmented team in the queue to order lunch. Now you all by now that I have always owned it when it comes to ordering the great cafe stop lunches for many a long year, but I have to hand it to John Lynch today; apparently he was so alarmed to hear that the rest of his family were enjoying a roast dinner that he got himself a plate of roast beef and veg with a giant Yorkshire pudding all to himself! He even got served before me, and ate the lot too despite the best efforts of Focus John and Kuota Paul to pinch any leftovers. They weren't getting any from me either, as I paid over a tenner for a meatball baguette and pot of tea. Much like what you get at Subway, only posh. The meatballs were the star attraction, with the sauce and cheese also coming up trumps. I'd have liked a softer baguette, but that was a minor gripe. With Mark Titchener having long since gobbled his scone, and left to go and feed a friend's kitten in Burscough, this left the fab four to head for home via the Hoscar Moss.

GOING OVER 65 MILES NEVER SEEMED SO TOUGH, TIME TO GET OUT MORE

I set off having forgotten to change down gear, much to the bemusement of Paul, who joined me out front for the first part of the return into the wind. This made for tough going and we rarely troubled the 20mph mark until we got onto Wanes Blades Road, where a group fo Phoenix CC riders seemed to be tending to a mechanical. Either that or DNA Dave had donated his stricken mudguard to them unbeknown to us. The discussion about the Pimbo road race continued across the railway line as we were now simply trying to survive to home. By the time Lynchy went straight on for Skelmersdale there was only me and Focus John left for the final run up Dark Lane and into Ormskirk, which was remarkably quiet today. Then again, we did have one obnoxious miniature-limousine driver to contend with just before HMCC HQ, but instead of returning to base John could pull straight into his driveway leaving me to return to Morrison's, try and beat our earlier average speed up the main road and set about beasting it all the way home as fast as possible. Not exactly what you love doing when the wind has turned into a westerly just as you get onto Formby Lane, but in such situations I don't do "nice", only "as aggressive as possible". So I kept it around 21mph until the Scarisbrick before really starting to fall off a cliff around Farmer Ted's; very disappointing but altogether not too surprising given how long ago the last proper HMCC club ride took place. After doing my good deed for the day in letting an old couple in a very old and battered car past me when the lights went to green at the roadblock it was only a couple more miles of beast mode to Tesco lights and then home for 1:40pm having covered the first 70 miler of 2015. Now it's all about consistency and discipline all the way to the start of racing season; can't let our progress throughout 2014 count for nothing can we?

Now for the results, in association with Aunt Bessie's Yorkshire Puddings:

Distance: 112.11km/70.07 miles

Time: 3:51:45

Average Speed: 29.03kmh/18.14mph

Dogs: 1

Hors Cat Climbs: 1, Moss Bank

Chewed-Up Chains: 1 KMC 10-speed

Friendly Drivers: 2 (no Wigan buses seen today though)

Best Food Choice of the Day: John Lynch for that roast dinner (please post a foodie here, I know it's on your phone)

REJECT OF THE RIDE: Knowsley Village Dog Lover's Club

(If you love your "best friend", don't let him near Ian's Zonda wheels humming at 20mph)

See you next week on Super Bowl Sunday for another great ride. With Sam and Rick looking like natural racers more and more each week, do I sense "deflate-gate 2" coming up before the day's big climb? Drawing pins on order.........