Sixteen feel the Squeeze on a Sunny Sunday

The largest ever choice of rides meant that we got over 70 at the shop today for the 9am start. After Willow's 16-strong cohort headed off for their century ride into the deep south, various A group rides were put forward, including Luke's hillclimb circuit, Alan's IMUK trip to Blackburn which I presume everyone followed with a ten-mile sub-hour run, and a shortened regular A ride round the coast. How those rides and the B's and C's got on I'm not sure, but our ride set off first, beginning with a loop round the cricket club. This peloton was a mix of A and B riders but far from being a ride where things split frequently, it would be a day when things got squeezed rather closer than we might have liked. Read on to find out why.

JP OBVIOUSLY DIDN'T FANCY WORKING THE GRAVEYARD SHIFT

The first mile was very slippery, indeed it was no better than the dreadful 18mph average I set while heading over the moss at 8:30am. Two excuses spring to mind, the first being rather wimpy that I had no legs left after sprinting round South Manchester yesterday, the other rather more realistic that the roads were very shiny and I was praying that no black ice would take me out. Even picking off a bloke on a MTB just after the horse stables didn't really enthuse me all that much and momentarily I'd thought about going back to get the car, but the decision to "just ride your bike" would prove absolutely pivotal in the final results table. For now we turned off right before Bickerstaffe down Graveyard Lane then back out onto the A506, which led us to the left-turn full of potholes for Kirkby. As we approached the Land of 50,000 Sky Dishes we got held up once or twice by cars and also had to dodge fallen bricks, of all things, in the road, but just as we came out the other side at the Copper Pot junction JP and his mate appeared right on cue having presumably done a lap or two of the industrial estate to warm up/steal some Stravas. He nestled himself nicely in Row 3 after the lights as we made our way south towards Knowsley village, where the route was at least familiar to those of us who'd chased David Jackson last October on the Beeston Castle Classic. Even better, we didn't get the cute kitten running across the first descent to scare us. Next up was the climb over the M57 where you see Stockbridge Village in the distance, but we were on our way towards the first gradual drawn-out ascent of the day in Prescot, which gave me the chance to move up a few places and realise that my legs really weren't that dead from yesterday's race. This would be the start of several troubles for Claire as her left pedal cleat just wouldn't engage properly which at least spared my blushes, but once the pack had reformed I got talking to Paul Davies who I'd not ridden with before. He's behind the scenes at BBC Radio 6 Music and apparently thinks that Radio City 2, "the greatest hits for the greatest city" has come at the right time to steal the likes of me and much younger listeners from the ever-growing behemoth that is Capital FM. After all, if £10m was the necessary requirement to buyout Juice Liverpool what's to say Justin Bieber didn't pony up the cash himself? You'd think so by looking at their website, but at least Sigala and Anton Powers kept their places on the playlist. Something for everyone if nothing else, I guess. After skirting the backside of St Helens and the local hospital we made our way eastwards with JP, yes JP, beasting the headwind like a true A group rider and giving the likes of me rather a bit to worry about, at least until we got shelter from the breeze at the right-turn into Penketh, which was a precursor in itself to me and Gemma getting out front for the first "countryside" part of today's ride at the mud run on the outskirts of Warrington. Gemma was always going to play a starring role on the off-road section, but I think I handled the rough stuff rather better than in the pats and certainly better than the MTB who must have been scared no end at the sight of CATLIKE coming towards him. So he stopped. After that it was a swift run under the railway bridge and through a sequence of villages before the southward run for one of the most iconic parts of today's route; a virtual U-turn towards the local rugby club followed by a tree-lined climb and the lovely cooling lake on the left. Ducks are cute and so are some types of dog, and indeed it would be some little miniatures of the canine variety who would provide us with the first real bit of entertainment on today's ride.

THAT'S MY BREAKAWAY GONE TO THE DOGS, AND PROBABLY MARK'S REAR WHEEL TOO

I remarked last time we went to Hatton that the place has the most boring name ever for a pub. Let's just take over an empty premises somewhere where there's one to be had easily, let's say Sandgrounderland, and call it "the Southport". How about that? I think you get the picture. But shortly after passing "the Hatton" we were greeted by a load of rottweilers who'd escaped out of what looked like an animal sanctuary and the cute little creatures starting jumping around excitedly at the sight of all these bikes coming towards them! It was so entertaining, I forgot to pedal, or should I say used it as a convenient way of ending my stint on the front and handing over so I could try and give my tired legs a rest of sorts. We turned right at the postbox and headed towards the road parallel to the M56, which had signs for Daresbury visible from the side road we were on. This confirmed to me that we were on our way to Frodsham, but on this occasion we would swing off just prior to this little market town and turn left towards Acton Bridge. Here, I remembered there was a Hors Cat Climb on offer so it was "little ring now - and that includes YOU too Chinook". I used it to good effect as, for once, I got the pedal/breathing rhythm spot-on and rounded up the leaders, and with no dogs on hand to get in my way I could park up and enjoy the first granola square as a treat for taking the KOM title for the day. Garry was next up having put in a very impressive performance on his Red Wind 50's and Gemma was not far behind me either; clearly we're proving that it's all about miles, indeed after today I'm already over 150 up on my mid-February year-to-date total from 2015. Once we'd regrouped a few comments along the lines of "how far is it to the cafe" filtered through, and not from the gas guzzler you might think, so after meandering through Norley and Hatchmere we reached the left-turn signposted Delamere in good spirits. We kept things together for a long while until the climb towards the right-turn for Delamere station ate up some people's legs. At this point I did suggest that if we arrived at the cafe in two groups it might be easier to get served, but of more pressing concern was a little issue further back. Mark's unreal pedalling force had dislodge his rear wheel and left it dangling about perilously close to the second line of riders. In turn Claire managed to avoid hitting him but the pair ended up pretty much "locked together" anyway and now Mark was seriously thinking he might have to get his De Rosa SK out ahead of schedule. And all on the day when Claire's pedal cleat wasn't engaging or releasing properly too. We kept the pace steady on the long straight towards the cafe, only to be held up when a camper van passed us just as a backlog of traffic was coming the other way. Typically, Camper Van Man decided to be really too nice and let the whole world through despite having right of way. On the restart Paul outjumped JP to get on the exhaust pipe of the high-sided vehicle and for a moment looked as though he'd make it two out of two for Team Specialized, but Garry rounded the pair of us just before the line to take the cafe points, leaving the rest of the riders to pick their way through a long row of cars coming out of the nature centre so we could get prime place in the queue for what turned out to be a very long cafe stop.

HOT CHILLI? CHECK. HOT CHOCOLATE? GET INSIDE, QUICK (AND NO CHASING THE WAITRESSES EITHER)

We locked our bikes to one of the lampposts and set about reading the menu. While some went for the station batch I devoured last time and others picked things like beans and cheese on toast, I decided it was lunch time and chose chilli and rice with a hot chocolate. Initially we sat outside and JP acted as my doting domestique by bringing out the hot drink I'd left at the counter, but truth be told we'd have been better staying inside as within minutes of bringing the drinks into the open air they started to get rather chilly. A few tables then became free inside so most of us who had hot food on order jumped at the chance to get warm and enjoy our lunches properly. The chilli itself was very hearty and very filling, indeed I struggled to finish it all (I actually wrote that, can't believe it can you) and it went very well with a "rich" hot chocolate. Conversation topics included the upcoming racing season, whether any of the waitresses were "available" (sorry you-know-who-you-are, they're too young for me so you've got no chance) and what at the time looked like a stunning Leicester win at the Emirates. If only the 4th official's board signalled a maximum amount of added time instead of minimum........After a quick piss stop and a chat with riders from other clubs who were surprised to see so many Focus bikes on show (we did tell them where to get am Izalco from) we shivered in the cold air (14c my arse, who was sitting on their Garmin while in the cafe) and, bizarrely, turned left back the way we'd just come. I thought this would make for a peaceful stanza as everyone digested their lunches, but I couldn't have been more wrong.

THANK GOD I'M NOT PLANNING TO MOVE OVER THAT SIDE OF THE MERSEY

Delamere is very popular with day-tripper and long-distance tourists alike. It's full of houses I like the look of, but really the place is almost too popular for the road infrastructure that serves it. We'd already had a couple of hairy moments before the cafe due to the big squeeze I refer to on today's title, and it was a really tight squeeze - even tighter than me trying to put my gilet on after a plate of chilli - that let to today's big accident, when Linsey couldn't get round a parked car in not enough space, struggled to get her cleat off the left pedal and ended up sideways on the floor. It was a really nasty fall and at first I thought multiple bikes had bee involved, but it was only as she sat at the roadside that it became apparent just how heavily she'd landed. Indeed, a bloke living in the house two doors down offered to get his better half out of "lunch in bed" (I presume) to help her and the bizzies who were there to direct the traffic were only too willing to help too, but after a quick check of her bike and a snap decision not to get the train to Chester followed by home, she rejoined at the back of the pack, who turned left to venture round Delamere's backside complete with walkers and a very happy dog who came very close indeed to being decapitated by an ancient Mavic Ksyrium Elite wheel on my bike. I know that's cheating but I did need all the help I could get today after the cross country. We skirted Hatchmere once more before turning west towards Chester. It was due to my sense of direction that I got it into my head that we were going west for Tarvin, so I was rather surprised to hear Willow say "right" as in up the hill. You can guess what happened; I was stuck in 50x13 and had to get off the bike to find one of my less-used gears at the big end of the cassette. After this little comedy moment which had me frantically scrambling to make up places we got onto the A56 for Mickle Trafford, which at least assured me that we were headed for the Deva City. However, today we wouldn't get all the way to those fabled walls, instead we crossed the M53 between Junctions 11 and 12. In the midst of this passage of play, Ford Focus Man was so desperate to pass the whole group that he put two wheels off the road and chewed up a load of grass at the kerb edge! If he'd carried on to the kerb itself his car would have become a virtual surfboard and we would have been first on the scene of a T-bone special. Instead, we lived to fight another day and took the prudent step of avoiding Chester Zoo so no-one could be eaten by the lions. At long last we were on our long trip north into that nasty thing known as block headwind, and this would stay with us all the way home. To begin this long arduous final segment we went down the same lanes we visited on that day I missed the turn-off and had to ask the hedge cutters "where did the blue jerseys go". Today, though, I was happily buried in mid-pack so took the left turn easily. By this stage we were past the 65 mile mark and some people were really beginning to tire badly so we were all quite happy to get a bit of rest in Little Stanney while I ate the second granola bar, others discussed ferry/train plans and Garry checked Linsey's front wheel, which in itself is far more impressive than the Zuus marketing pictures have you believe.

PLAN "A" FOR KEEPING THE PACE STRONG BUT STEADY: PUT TWO TT SPECIALISTS ON THE FRONT

By now Ellesmere Port came into view so I said "mouth covers ON" given my comments last time about the levels of air pollution and it was here that me and Gemma took over from Claire, who'd completed an extremely impressive stint into the wind and she deserved more credit than she gave herself for it. We took over and held station all the way through the residential areas of this old industrial town but luckily we avoided the really nasty smoky parts and turned off left before the M53 for Hooton, home of the garden centre we stopped at last time. Only thing was, the climb parallel to M53 Junction 6 really took it out of pretty much anyone not named JP so a park-up was needed to assess who to put where in the pack order. It was suggested that those struggling should get near the front so as not to lose ground on the climbs. This made the Col de Hooton Station and the run past the garden centre rather easier despite the best efforts of Smoky BMW Man to run us off the road, and still left me in a good enough position to help direct the run through the Clatterbridge roundabout. After passing this haunting hospital who stand to profit greatly from Project Leicester 2016 when it goes live, I started giving instructions such as "you need Birkenhead" which meant the long, steady climb which David Jackson ripped everyone to bits on last time. Today, though, the pack stayed together very well and the only real sense of panic came when we got to the A552 crossing and Oxton Hill came into view. We had a bit of stopping and restarting to do here, too, but soon we were rolling downhill past the Caernarvon Castle pub and towards Bidston, where we turned right for Claughton Village. This made for a very fast descent past the Tesco Metro, at least until an idiot in a red KA stuck his nose out jut after the Co-Op and glared at us because, well, we just HAD to be there. Poor him. I was one of very few people who knew the way to Hamilton Square by now so, together with Willow, directed the group to the brown signs for the tourist attractions and through a run-down part of Birkenhead itself, before we stopped outside Hamilton Square station and though about what to do next. In the end the train was thought to be more prudent than waiting until 4:30pm for the boat, but in keeping with the madness of the day, you just knew someone would goof it up.

DO NOT PASS THE TICKET MAN, DO NOT BUY YOURSELF A NEW BIKE IN CASE YOU BREAK IT

Most of us had our tickets pre-bought so got onto the 16:06 train very quickly indeed. This only necessitated a one-stop ride to James Street, where we hooked our bikes onto the steps of the escalator, and a lady in one of the lifts seemed very impressed that we were on for a century. She’d have been much less impressed when she saw today’s ROTR prize winner try to get through the ticket barriers while LIFTING his bike up in the air. While the rest of us had done the sensible thing and go past the ticket man who kindly opened the disabled gate for us, JP thought it best to put his ticket in the machine and ended up clanging his bike against the pillars between the automatic barriers! No, JP, your handlebars are much too wide to squeeze through there. And if you’re getting yourself a new “step up” bike, get some weight training in so you can actually lift the damn thing over your head next time. After nearly falling over ourselves in laughter we set off onto the dock road. Instead of turning left to visit Liverpool’s new hit music station we went right and down the grimy industrial estate, before turning right up the hill so we could get onto the rather busier route that leads to Litherland. We needed a discussion about how to get back as a group, so of course we had to do this 100 metres away from Scandals. I’ll let you look that one up for yourself rather than go and have me put any dodgy weblinks up, but after giving James plenty of applause for his choice decision in this regard we headed north past Go Outdoors and under the flyover at the port. Here, we turned right towards Switch Island, by which time I was simply ticking off the miles one by one and some set about turning right towards Kirkby or Skelmersdale. At Maghull Town Hall I turned left as I was now confident of getting my century in, so I switched my lights on, made my way towards the industrial estate and opened up the whoop-ass can to time-trial as fast as possible all the way home. This involved reaching speeds of 22mph on Brickwall Road and through the sheltered part of the A565 known as Ince Woods, but a rather slower 18mph after turning right at the Pheasant in Hightown. I stuck to the cycle track thereafter and after one last YOLO effort at a rather slower-than-normal 21mph approaching Tesco lights then down Altcar Road I could turn into my cul-de-sac having covered a momentous 101 miles in near-perfect winter weather. Well done to Willow for leading the ride as well as he did, and congratulations to those who dug deep to complete their longest ride of the year. A century in February has to equate to a summer 150 with Mark Titchener, surely?

Now for the results, brought to you by Paul’s favourite radio station, Capital FM:

Distance: 161.65km/101.03 miles

Time: 6:11:18

Average Speed: 26.12kmh/16.33mph

Hors Cat Climbs: 1 somehow taken by me

Crashes: 1 plus a near-miss “love tangle”

Stupid Drivers: 2 on the Wirral

Dogs: At least 6 in Hatton none of which bit a cyclist

Money Spent Today: £10.60 on chilli and rich hot chocolate plus a 75p flapjack from the BP

REJECT OF THE RIDE.

At No. 5: Dogs (particularly the little one which stared at the cat ears on my helmet)

At No. 4: Ford Focus Man (would have served him right if he’d been SURFBOARDED by the upcoming kerb)

At No. 3: Mark’s Rear Wheel (of all the days to get locked in love too)

At No. 2: Delamere Traffic Jams (for blocking us before the café and sending Linsey to the deck on the way back)

And at No. 1: JP vs. the ticket barriers (I’m sure Sports Direct Fitness will expand to Kirkby eventually so no chance of a repeat performance in the future)

And at long last, one tough but thrilling weekend is over and half-term begins. Time to put my feet up and relax………then pick a ride for next week. Got any space for a big-legged slowcoach at the back for the ride to Clitheroe, Rick? Coffee/beer stop, you said it not me………