T is for Top Locks, Tarleton and Twisted Transmission

The first ride of September saw one of the biggest turnouts at the shop for quite some time as around 60 people arrived for the 9am start. As such we needed at least three groups which probably became at least four, with the 35 C’s staying local and the A/B ride opting for local lumps then a loop northwards on the coast road. That left around 16 to join Matt on the A ride aiming for Top Locks and Brindle before returning to the coast via Walmer Bridge. Matt led his group out of town, beginning with Dark Lane.

NOTHING IS EVER FAST ENOUGH, AND THAT INCLUDES OUR PUMPING TECHNIQUE

I slotted in on the left side of Row 5 as we started the first few miles down the hill in pursuit of the A/B group. During the opening segment we were only briefly troubled by cars, but the first split of the day occurred at the Hoscar Moss roundabout where I was last of the sneaky types to shoot through a gap and stay on board with the early pacesetters when cresting the bridge at the Ring O’Bells. The A/B’s turned right for the cobbles and Ashurst Beacon but we stayed on the road to the railway line which was somewhat less problematic than usual, even with my rear tyre feeling like a full suspension mountain bike. For now it was behaving itself but the first “change on the front” led to the first shouts of “come on FASTER” from GUESS WHO, given that we always know when it’s a bully-boys ride. Every one who turns up adds extra to the stress levels and reduces one’s ability to think straight and settle their nerves, and so it proved as despite stealing two places in the queue at the right-turn towards the Eagle and Child Paul Moy still wasn’t too impressed because my left foot couldn’t find the pedal. I thus got into Army Mentality Mode as we turned left for Mawdesley but there was a real sense that my inner tube wasn’t going to last the ride, and so it proved; on the potholes on the way out of the village the rear tube finally gave up and this sent me into full war movie junkie mode, as everything I did just had to be wrong (s*** pump/you don’t need to turn the bike upside down/bike fell on Paul’s Kuota/tube disqualified for being 50 grams underweight/not pumping aggressively enough, the list goes on). It’s telling that I’ve got so far without even discussing the virtues of Paul’s Zefal pump; it appears to be quite forceful, certainly more than the Specialized which looks like it’s full of water from having been ridden through a few mini rivers over the last five summers. After a slightly shorter than usual delay we set off once more, aiming for Eccleston where we went left and left and again for the humpback bridge. We went right at the possible fork in the road rather than towards Midge Hall, so we could take in a bit more of the Runshaw end of Leyland. The pace kept up well throughout this passage of play, only relenting a little on the climb before the right-turn before the college, though we did have to split a couple of times at the mini-roundabouts before the A49 huge junction near Merlin Cycles. Once across the last of these troublesome traffic lights, we could turn left for the wilds of Top Locks.

SO THIS IS HOW TO ADD 17 MILES ONTO THE IRONMAN COURSE, NO BELMONT REQUIRED

As we reached the crest of the climb I thought we might continue to the A674 but instead we turned left for the last extra rise prior to the storm drive descent to the bridge which, to John Farrington’s delight, is always full of mud like it’s a predesigned slick planned to catch out time trial bikes. Unfortunately I don’t know of a TT bike that takes 32mm knobblies so I guess it’s all about using the lowest pressure possible. Once at the church we turned right for Top O’The Hill Lane which ordinarily leads you to Hoghton Towers as featured on the Roman Road feed station, but today we would turn left at the very corner where 20 months ago I had the “F*** THIS” moment when the chainset simply flew off. Today there simply wasn’t enough weight on the saddle for that to happen, and probably not enough power which is so important when the aim is simply to win everything, but at least the leaders weren’t up for attacking the technical descent and this gave me prime position to join David Rodgers out front on resumption of proper play just before the uphill/turn right/look right/turn left moment at the crest of the next climb. The next few miles turned into a classic game of heads shoulders knees and toes as I tried to spot the endless long chain of exposed grids but it turned out that I’d lit the touch paper a bit too early (to say nothing of the later antics on the coast road and the choice comments) so the calls to stay stead went wonderfully unheard as all I could think was “ETU 2020” as in “do you want to qualify for Team GB or not” (you’ll be hearing plenty more like that over the next few months) while David kept me entertained with exactly what the Isle of Man crew have been up to (no, I didn’t think they’d been on their way to Ireland for the opening weekend of the Pro14 rugby). I’m sure the irony of me shouting at a Toyota driver to hurry up at the traffic lights near the “Beer Box” (a new micro pub) in Bamber Bridge wasn’t lost on John Farrington given how much he wants a Yaris, but shortly after we passed the Dr Oetker factory Paul took over on the front and looked suitably delighted about it given that he had to be in Liverpool for 1pm today to visit some random pub round the back of Lime Street Station. Clearly it’s changed a lot round there in the last few years then, upmarket bars and bike racks! The right turn at the flats led us to the Walmer Bridge roundabout which was the first of many incidents where the leaders got through and the back markers did not, as such it was one of those days when you realise why they always say “ride at the front end”. Normally we ride through the minefield that is Midge Hall with a view to revisiting Croston but today we would turn towards the garden centre and into the wilds of Penwortham, or at least the road that lead there. On this occasion we wouldn’t be going to Broadgate Cycles to look at how to get the same helmet as me, instead we would be going straight to Walmer Bridge for the beginning of the run home. But for one rider, that “run home” would involve a phone call and four wheels.

TURN LEFT, HE NEVER GETS IT RIGHT

In the 1990s, on many a long trip across the country on a family holiday, we would stop for an Early Starter at the Little Chef, during the company’s heyday. The advert which stuck in my mind mentioned “turn left, we get it right“ and “ we just left you have what you want, when you want it” (at least until we get taken over by EuroGarages and run the place as a skeleton, Knutsford 2017 en route to the Nantwich Triathlon don’t even go there). Well, we were at the “Little Chef” roundabout in Walmer Bridge and just about to catch Garry and Linsey when Daniel pulled out as one of the leaders. I saw him coming towards me and steered away just in time but it turned out he had a spectacular mechanical; his inner chainring, which obviously got so much use on today’s ride, had twisted, and not only that it was throwing the chain off the big ring! So he had to park his Cervelo C5 at the pub and wait for a lift home, during which time he apparently ordered a seven course meal with IPA and espresso to finish. Meanwhile, we set off once more in pursuit of the coast road. At Tarleton lights Charlotte did the rather more sensible thing and rode towards Rufford Marina, though not, as it turned out, to eat the entire supply of peanut butter flavoured goodies. The rest of us continued towards Shore Road on the north fringes of Hesketh Bank. This brought back memories of last year’s epic stress test with Ste Francis shouting “COOOOOOOM ON” but strangely he’d disappeared today; indeed by this stage I’m sure it wasn’t just Charlotte who’d left us. The leaders kept us around the 25mph mark all the way down this exposed road and it was the first ride in a long time where I was questioning whether I’d make it to the end. Either that or I’m simply not thinking aggressively enough on the bike at the moment given I haven’t been running much. We returned to rather more sheltered roads in Banks, but if you believe the “no excuses, never relent” gang John threw his bottle out of his cage necessitating another rest stop. During this park-up I ate the second granola bar, the first one having vanished at the KFC in Bamber Bridge. Now all that stood between more and my current base was eleven miles of torture known as the Plough to Tesco Formby.

CIAO ADIOS I’M DONE (AND WANT TO GO FOR A RUN) #MAY2019SOUTHPORT

As we began the coast road the group took time to reform, but once together again we set off like we were on a time trial. However, John Faz had to turn the beastliness up even more and started naming and shaming a few riders who had been on someone’s wheel all day. One, who likes Birkers Bar and Grill and somehow weighs less than me, probably wanted to do a Howie on him, sprint past and then swerve him into the caravans parked at the roadside car given the weight discrepancy between them, but given his Anne-Marie reference on his Strava report I doubt Oasish or Whole Lotta DC were coming to Birkdale’s favourite social hub. Not that we were even thinking about that on the ride past Pleasureland where a few ill-timed cars meant that some took advantage which is surely desperation tactics in the extreme? Once past the Weld Road roundabout the two-by-two wheel weaving games began, with the likes of John Faz simply doing this until his legs had splintered like roof tiles in a Force 12 storm and me trying to replicate this after the Sands pub, even making some extremely strange noises and shouting as I went past. Typically it was to no avail as several streamed past on the approach to the bridge, before the group were stopped at the lights. Here, Matt wanted to finish the ride with an off road adventure on Plex Moss Lane but I was going to see my Dad in Formby so turned right at the lights, found I suddenly couldn’t really pedal on the coast road such was the letdown after the previous few miles, then get squeezed by Orange Van Man just before the Tesco junction when he forced his front wheel alongside me then simply refused to get on with the pass, meaning I had to park up on the grass verge to get across with 60mph cars flying towards Liverpool in pursuit of Paul Moy. Eventually I got my chance to turn for Formby and snag a few booms in Waitrose, parking up down my old drive at 12:45pm having covered over 60 miles. Nice to know the miles can still be done but it’s fair to say that the gap to the big hitters is getting larger not smaller, and I don’t mean I’ve been eating too much and gaining weight either……….

Now for the results, brought to you by the Beer Box, Bamber Bridge:

Distance; 96.91km

Time: 3:05:23

Average Speed: 31.37kmh

Dead Inner Tubes: 1

Busted Drivetrains: 1

Granola Squares Eaten: 2

Slow Toyota Drivers: 1 not in a Yaris

Post Ride Nutrition: Falafel and salad as an open sandwich plus fruit for antioxidants, can’t go to Parbold for the festival as I’m off to work now

REJECT OF THE RIDE: Daniel’s Inner Chainring

(Would have been interesting to know how he got on with his adventure bike on Plex Moss Lane)

Here’s to another one next week, though there’s plenty on next Sunday so I’m not sure yet what hours I’ll be out. It’ll help that I’m not running around at work until midnight though, dare I attempt the Ormskirk RUFC Beer Pong Tournament on the Saturday night?