Turbo 10 in Top Locks and Tarleton

The club trip to Bala and the little matter of yet another Pimbo road race meant that only 20 people turned up at the shop for the 9am start. Two groups formed, the lowest number since the 2012 Miller and Carter Ice Bowl, with Colin leading the B's out towards Billinge while Wilko didn't actually know where he was going but eventually provided us with a new, novel way of tackling Top Locks. Unusually, I would join him out front for the first passage of play up Dark Lane.

THIS ROAD'S CLOSED, THAT ROAD'S CLOSED - AT LONG LAST THE TRANSPORT BUDGET BOX HAS BEEN OPENED!

We began by reaching speeds of around 23mph on the way down the hill and across the worst segment of road surface you're likely to find apart from Hors Cat Cobbles. There's actually a sign just before the top of the initial rise implying that the road is closed for five days 26-30 June, not including the weekend of course. So maybe, just maybe, the one wish I had for the next Government is coming true, that they will actually spend more on the roads rather than force us to spend more on pleasing tyre manufacturers. I must admit, when you've taken on a new job the last thing you want is to see these "ROAD CLOSED" signs everywhere but as long as there's more money (I mean Cervelo S3 fund) available for 2016 that's all that matters, really. We continued onwards across the Hoscar Moss picking off our first victims just after the Ring O'Bells, and with brand new S-Works Turbo tyres on even the road conditions and railway line didn't bother me all that much and soon we were ambling up the slight incline to the Eagle and Child. A left turn here sent us to Mawdesley, where a left-turn at the Robin Hood allowed Wilko to swing off and let Paul and his awesome Giant Propel onto the front alongside me. Paul asked me "is this a race" - I think having 55mm deep wheels on plus half an hour already done alongside a club legend should tip the balance, let's just say, away from me, but maybe I'm doing it wrong. In any case the pace was now repeatedly hitting the 25mph mark, mostly because we didn't have to turn right for yet ANOTHER "road closed" sign, though they did get their diversion signs a bit mixed up pointing the aforementioned alternative route in the SAME direction as the closed road! Imagine if some truck driver had to go down there at night........Anyway we reached the top end of Croston at the walled garden, where I tactically sent my new tyres over the gravel and botched the restart to allow Brian to waste his breath alongside Mr Propel for the run up the hill and over the roundabout towards Bretherton, where I got into a chat about Cervelo bikes and the sudden emergence of Qatar as a global superpower with...........The EDGE! That's right, I forgot to mention in the preview that he's got himself a new R3 and bolted his Reynolds Assaults on. Until now I've generally been more interested in the S series than the R3/R5, but what a great colour scheme - no problem putting any red tyres on! I thought we might soon be seeing red or even stars as the next passage of play would be the same as the one where Kevan and Brian demolished half the group last week, but instead the cohort would put on quite a show of strength in depth as we made our way towards Moss Side, where a few more choice comments were forthcoming as to where we were going. Indeed, Wilko, what were you thinking at this point?

COL DE COW WELL LANE - COW BELLS AT THE READY METHINKS, ANYONE SEEN ALBERTO SALAZAR LATELY?

After rounding the sequence of roads to Worden Park we went left then right past the Tesco where the cobbles used to be. This brought us out onto the road leading to the A49 crossing, where we swooped left then, after a brief park-up at the lights, headed off left to Wheelton. This road is pretty fast as even the gradual incline is approached by a sequence of fast bends so we were at the A6 in no time at all, but rather than descend Shaw Brow we carried on to find another road none of us had gone up before. It's Cow Well Lane, or now I think about it, Cow Bell, because as soon as you get onto the climb you see the top, so the ascent doesn't last much longer than the last lap of one of Mo Farah's races where the cowbell starts ringing. Quite why Farah hasn't been seen ringing up other coaches like Col or Chinook is anyone's guess - it's not as if either of us push the limits of the rules quite so flauntingly - but in any case the red and black SL4 was first up to snatch some early points, although for me that was as good as it would get. Upon regrouping we continued northwards then eastwards up the next incline on the B5256 where Luke stole one of his 45 KOM's for the day by vaulting up the hill effortlessly - I stand by my prediction I made earlier about a Big S getting on the podium at this year's hillclimb. From here we took the unusual step of approaching the Cavendish Arms and Brindle Church from the west side, which certainly splintered the group once more and this time you couldn't even blame the Big S club. Of greater interest was the clang-clang-clang of bells from the church, rather more tuneful than the DANG-A-LANG-A-LANG plus heavy breathing you get on the last lap of the Olympic 10,000 metres. It's unsual for a non-Edgey wedding to take place on a Sunday, but thank GOD it wasn't scheduled for three weeks today.........

NO MORE CHAMPAGNE BREAKFASTS FOR YOU, DEAR

As I've just mentioned, the first few riders were parked up at the junction for a little while enjoying food and drink out of jersey pockets while the last two or three made their way over the rise. We actually gave the backmarkers a chance to recover but while they were having their elevenses, some bloke on an ancient Trek bike met us and said "is this the pinch point" - well actually he had a good point there, given how many cars were parked up at the roadside. Now he was still pedalling as we clipped in once more but don't tell today's Reject; she walked out in front of Edgey and Trek Man looking as though she'd stumbled out of some nightclub or, alternatively, had enjoyed some alcohol, probably of the champagne variety, at breakfast. Come on, at least look both ways before you cross the bloody road........We plunged down the descent then up the next Luke Launchpad, or rather Top O' the Hill Lane, before plunging towards the junction and taking pretty much the same route "enjoyed" by Kevan's Super Soaked Six just before Christmas. The descents saw some particularly impressive bike handling despite the best efforts of my front mech to overshift and send the chain over the right pedal, and after turning off Tithebarn Lane we could get a clean shot at Top Locks. It's the first time me and Edgey have shared this stretch of road since the infamous 2012 Lancashire Lanes demolition effort on his part, but once again it was Luke who came up trumps despite Wilko's best efforts to rein him in, and during the wait me and Brian conducted an investigation into last week's epic fail in Hilldale. It turns out that there's something on the Parish noticeboard about a dog owner throwing twigs for his pet to catch, and that they were now a road hazard - now we know what cut my tyre sidewall! Then we turned right, seemingly away from home but actually onto the speedy A674 (or maybe a bit too speedy for Colin who managed to do a CHINOOK on Chinook), where we rocketed towards the junction before turning right across the carriageway for the BP. A quick head count later, we were on our way to Merlin Cycles, but rather than try any price matching we made our way through road after road of new build houses (so that's why Merlin wanted such a big showroom) and continued westwards for Eccleston, but not before Luke took the Buckshaw Parkway link bridge with such consummate ease, one wonder if he'll emulate Rick Taylor's progression through the "cats" quite so quickly. After turning right we spent quite a long time on Runshaw Lane en route to the Texaco and Eccleston. During this passage of play a load of lads in a white van shouted something incomprehensible; now when you know I can't report on it, you at least get an idea of what substances they must have been under the influence of. IN a serious sense of deja vu, we were now going westward on the same roads as earlier in the day, which included the run up the Croston train station bridge and the Bretherton curves, coming off-route only upon reaching the Tarleton TT course. But by this time it was raining and we really HAD to get to the cafe in time for breakfast food. But with the weather blowing hot then cold, what to do for hydration?

GO AND SIT UNDER THE UMBRELLA, ELLA, ELLA.........

As we turned onto the A59 I noticed that people wanted to spend only a few seconds on the front. It took me a while to twig to what was going on, but eventually I figured that it must be through and off time. This necessitated a few short stabs of power from anyone who could throw a punch, and this number shrank progressively to the point where by the time we reached the "your speed" sign, only five were really doing any pulling. At this point Edgey struck back to vault to the head of the field and looked as though he might take it, but in the end both he and Luke had gone too early and were swamped up both by the main pack and by Wilko, who deservedly took the spoils after a quite thrilling morning ride. While one or two were eager to get home quickly, most of us were only too keen to stop, refuel and shelter from the elements.

Tiffins and scones were popular today, but I did the usual and enjoyed a sausage barmcake with brown sauce and a can of San Pellegrino. That might sound pretty tame compared to some of my 10-course feasts but yet another gig last night meant I didn't really get a proper treat meal featuring lots of alcohol and chocolate so I can only assume the smaller, plainer meals I had yesterday sat rather better in my stomach. Talking points today included speeds up Alpe d'Huez, the Pimbo road race and how my legs have grown to the size they are now - Brian even asked me what brand of illagal steroids I must be using. Well, Brian, there's nothing to it, ever heard of the 100m world record holder who had his Olympic gold medal revoked for eating too many sausage barms? No, of course not. Luke had already dashed off home to do some house hunting but just as the rest of us were about to do likewise, a cloudburst hit and we thought it rather better to hide under the giant umbrella which proved quite a haven until, to our amazement, the sun came out! It's been a weird day of weather for sure. So now, with the B group having also enjoyed a long lunch break and me having sneaked onto Paul‘s Propel in readiness for a Giant Store raid at some point in the future, the A and B groups joined forces then split again to become East and West regional divisions. For me, this meant joining Colin and several B-groupers across Curlew Lane and past the Martin Inn.

DECISION MADE: GIANT-SIZED FLANNEL OR COOLING VEST WILL APPEAR ON NEXT HOT AND SUNNY RIDE

Although the group began the final run home together, that didn't last as by the time we reached the Martin Inn we were already one group of three and one group of four. This meant that me, Mike and Colin could leave the ducks to wander into the road and catch out some other cyclists but now I had a tough decision to make; blunt the headwind and face Colin all the way to Birkdale or turn for home immediately and do all the work alone? I took the first option, which actually turned out to be better as at least it got me to 70 miles, but the headache which had been niggling away at me since just before the cafe was a real nightmare, not least because you don't often get headaches or migraines when wearing a cycle helmet. This meant I often had to give best to my two teammates/saviours including the point where Colin did his final attack near his home drive to ge the average speed up. This just left me and Mike until he turned off down Oakwood Avenue, so with me left to my own devices I thought it better to pull over, pour some water through my helmet and eat the second cereal bar in my jersey pocket. This cooled me off sufficiently to battle on home, but what a factor the weather played today; I've never been on a ride where the first half is consistently cool and cloudy, followed by a second half featuring both a deluge and a bout of hot weather right at the end. So I hid from the sun glare by tootling past Formby Hall Golf Club and after one last beast effort to Tesco lights I could attack down Altcar Road before turning left then right down my drive and eventually reaching Chinook HQ at 1:30pm having rounded off the first half of the year in style. Many thanks to Wilko for coming up with a new way to see Brindle and Top Locks, and also to Brian for lending me the fiver for lunch - it turned out I left the £20 on the hall table when putting my helmet down before setting off..........

Now for the results, powered by San Pellegrino Blood Orange Flavour:

Distance: 112.04km/70.03 miles

Time: 3:35:22

Average Speed: 31.21kmh/19.51mph

Cloudbursts: 2

Drunk Wedding Guests: 1

Ducks: 4

Longest stint on front: Half an hour, unbelievably from yours truly

Money Spent Today: £4.95 for sausage barm and San Pellegrino

REJECT OF THE RIDE: The drunk wedding guest

(Calling Dragon’s Den; care to invest in a new business for handlebar-mounted horns?)

Next week should be interesting as it’s Tour de France opening weekend. So shall we go hunting out some Hors Cat Climbs? If so I guarantee right now Team Specialized will win at least one of the jerseys on offer, especially if my order for carpet tacks arrives by the end of the week. Whether I can get my bike in front of Tom or Rick to actually execute the master plan is another matter……….