W is for Wintry in the Wild West Pennines

It would seem that even early doors downpours, 40mph winds and the need to switch one's lights on until 9am doesn't reduce the numbers these days, as once more we had around 50 people at the shop ready for the grand depart. No less than five groups formed, one of which was Craig's MTB/CX ramble over some rugged terrain. All of which was a recce for the soon-to-be-launched D for Dirty (no mudguard) group, but you knew that already. The rest were divided up into four road cohorts, with Neil taking on Laura's job of leading the C's, Jeff and Rhian led the B's out towards St Helens (that little rugby town who need to pinch this new duathlon star called Tom Hanlon from you-know-where) and two top tier groups formed. Wilko had half a dozen race rockets ready for a run towards Tockholes while Steve Depport led perhaps the biggest group of the day on an improvised reversal of the Race group route, to take in Brinscall, Tockholes and Brindle. Steve's group set off last, beginning with Ruff Lane.

THERE GOES MY REMAINING HUB BEARING (SINGULAR); YES PLEASE MATT PUT ME DOWN FOR DARREN'S WHEELS

I set off on the right side of Row 4 next to Colin Carrot Cake Clark, who warned me the other day about the virtues, or otherwise, of stuffing one's face with St Mary's Marina cake slices. I would pay heed to that, but more details in Chapter 47. For now we were making best use of the 40mph gusts of tailwind to power us on a quicker-than-normal warm-up to the A577 and the road towards the Plough. This was actually the first gut-check for anyone who had crashed recently as the first big flood of the day forced us to single out and follow the white line, so we were relieved to get up the incline, so much so that Dave had it in him to shout "GET SOME MUDGUARDS" - not that there were too many culprits in that regard nowadays; I think it's a little bit much to say "no mudguards, please go home" but a D for Dirty group next week would be hilarious, especially given it's the five-year anniversary of Dirty-Derriere-Gate in Rufford, which also happened to take place on a day when the red men had a 2:05pm kickoff. Why didn't we think of that before scheduling the MTB ride? Anyway, we bypassed the Plough and instead carried on towards the Hoscar Moss. Here, the roundabout itself was in a dreadful state but the road to the train station was the least bad, if you can call that a compliment, that I've seen in quite some time. Progress, indeed. Our own progress would be halted by a second flood even worse than the first one just before the T-junction, and this one pretty much went as high as our rear hubs; I know I've been dragging the DT Axis wheels out as long as possible but you've never heard such a Philharmonic-orchestra-style drum roll from a rear hub. Indeed I think the idea of "blow it up and start over" applies as much here as it does to any reality show run by Simon Cowell (to say nothing of the one Paloma Faith stars in, and that one's switching sides for 2017 too). After drenching our wheels in the muddy stuff we got rather cleaner terrain on the way past the Eagle and Child, but it got dirty once again through Mawdesley, and quite bumpy too, and to make matters worse, I was behind a mudguardless bike (you know who you are; agree to buy me a triple Malibu and coke at the club dinner and you can have my old Crud Roadracers for free. Interested?) It wasn't long before we reached Eccleston via Doctor's Lane, but unusually we would get straight over and straight back out of the village into the wilds once more, which split the group thanks to some brilliantly-timed traffic, not for the last time on the day either. On our traipse through the back roads to the A49 several people would need a piss stop and it was here that I got chatting to Alan Price for the first time. He's the one on the Carrera bike from Halfords, but as I was stuffing my mouth with a granola square it was left to Darren to suggest that me try and move further up the group, and it worked a treat, because now I could sit on the back row and chat to the A group's new strongman Dangerous Dave about carrot cake and why I hadn't gone with Wilko. Well, if Darren and Lynchy, to name two, hadn't joined Kevan's Kult then what chance did Mr 50x11 have? Actually, the use of big gears did pay dividends once we got to the A49 as it helped me swoop down the descent and pass some backmarkers before vaulting back to midfield as we made our way through to the back roads of Euxton Station, where yet more traffic kept splitting the group, and Chorley, where one group became three then eventually back to one. We were only too happy to get out of town up the hill and head for the first challenge of the day, the Col de Brinscall.

WORN WINTER RUBBER FOR 26MM TURBO COTTONS - SPECIALIZED, GIVE US ANOTHER TYRE AMNESTY!

After Mr No Mudguards turned off just prior to the Red Cat, we picked the speed up nicely as we continued northwards up the main road towards Brinscall. Steve Depport was leading the pack with Ian at this point but Darren decided to make the first move. I'm pretty convince by now that Darren's planning his whole year around the hillclimb season a la Tom Hanlon but I didn't realise he was old enough to compete for an "on standard" vets prize. Rick Taylor, you have been warned..........Back to the point, it was only as I rounded him and heard a chicken waking up in the fram nearby that I heard some murmurings from Mr-Let's-Wind-Him-Up about the 15 years advantage I have on him (that's a corresponding disadvantage when you find a nice house in the Sefton Cottages of Ince Blundell for £169k and the mortgage rules are so much tighter nowadays, but then would I want £600 a month repayments anyway) but I nearly got stopped after the left-hand bend by some roadworks. The restart was pretty hairy, given it was a no-passing zone with plenty of mud on the overtaking line, and this probably made the difference as track position was king to create the first UPSET SPECIAL of 2016! Meanwhile the rest of the group were reforming at the top of the climb as David Roe's rear mech was starting to misbehave, but two creatures who were very much in the Aint Misbehavin' category were two horses who must have been disappointed not to have Garry and his new Giant TCR grace them with his presence. Instead we made our way past one-by-one and powered up Twist Moor Lane, before regrouping at the top just as a bus went past. Upon turning right towards Belmont someone mentioned "a long climb to finsh everyone off". Given my legs are more suited to playing American Football than riding at race pace for hours on end I was quietly conceding the Belmont backside immediately, but things would turn out quite differently indeed. First, we had plenty of snowfall to contend with, as the Tockholes/Blackburn/Darwen area has its own microclimate and last night's rain had fallen as snow on this higher ground. This split the A group into three different mini-groups (also known as cliques and bluster by Wilko, who was spotted with the Race group heading north around this point) but trying to pass the head of Group 2 to rejoin Group 1 was a frightening experience with lashings of snow in between the tyre-tracked lanes on each side of the road. Also, Dave Roe's Shimano Tiagra rear mech had now completely given up the ghost, so much so that he could only use the 11t sprocket in ether the big or little ring. Now a 50x11 gear for Denver's next placekicker in waiting is nothing, as well you know, but for normal cyclists it can be something of a nightmare to haul over any lumps. The group pulled into the car park for yet another piss stop and this turned everything on its head, as the stragglers at the back of Group 3, who had the added benefit of not being snowblasted by 30 passing cars while waiting for David, were carrying on their merry way! So I thought it best to pootle on very slowly because I know the road well, I don't have much confidence in my rapidly-decaying wheels and tyres and I thought if I have another crash I don't want to ruin a fellow squirrel's bid for the Dark Lane dash GUTS-PAIN-GLORY title, so I pedalled easy, braked easy (if at all) and reeled in the likes of Gemma just as I reached the third giant puddle of the day; this one demanded you go kerb-crawling and try not to get done by the bizzies who obviously have plenty to do in the quiet hamlet of Tockholes on a Sunday morning. I got to the pub in third place having noticed that Dave had retained his Turbo Tockholes title from last summer, and while we pushed the discarded Christmas tree out of the way, we spotted Ian Roberts and some of the VCUK team attending to a mechanical of their own. In addition, two runners were out, one who looked like she knew what she was doing, the other whose young kid was dragging her up the hill (she's getting BLUE FLAGGED if she comes to Bradford in October, it's only four laps of the city centre). I took the opportunity to eat a second granola slice which left e with only two Mr Kipling's angel cakes to see me home, but at least the hard work was done and we could look forward to a nice simple downhill ride back to base. Could it really be that straightforward?

D IS FOR DARREN ON THE DECK AND DOWN GOES ANOTHER CONTI TYRE

We had quite a selection of rolling roads through various towns including Pleasington, Feniscowles and Brindle. It was during this passage of play that the group started to fragment a little as it was, after all, a tough day to be stepping up from B to A group standard, but surprisingly the likes of Alan who had been a little spooked by the pace early doors was now one of those making the moves when it mattered to stay in the lead mini-bunch, very impressive stuff. We did get a bit of confusion upon reaching Brindle church as some thought we would go left only to be told it was straight on but truth be told, I was pretty sure that's the quickest way home. So I got a good restart and enjoyed the straight descent towards the M61 bridge and Clayton-le-woods, where all manner of craziness kicked off. First, we saw a mad runner out jogging (you couldn't call it running) at what looked like easy-go pace around the 9 minute mile mark. Of course, no-one is saying every session MUST be a beast session - volume is king every time as Lynchy and Colin will tell you - but this bloke was running slowly in an old-school white vest and shorts! Did he not look at the weather forecast and see how cold it was inland? At the next roundabout Darren was lucky not to get CHINOOK'D as my middle-distance perception let me down once again but at least I stayed upright. However, a few miles later we were turning right towards Runshaw College and Darren was right in front of me alongside David Roe. Now I'm not sure what happened here; either David's trajectory was quite tight or Darren's non-Specialized rubber understeered into the corner, but the end result was a second squirrel smash in three Sundays and a very quick steering correction by yours truly to avoid landing on top of him. Well, that would probably be more painful than crashing in the first place. Commendably, Darren was up off the floor rather quicker than I was a couple of weeks ago, but it brought back memories of seeing Kevan's video from last Sunday's A group ride where the pack were four-wide after the train station. We got going again and rolled off some pretty speedy segments past the college and on the run towards Flag Lane, but that all ended as Lynchy's rear Continental Ultra Sport 25mm tyre let him down. It's been a bad run of luck for the favourite tyre choice of HMCC's non-Specialized brigade, but I went back up the road to survey the damage and applauded as the tube was replaced in 9 minutes 36.89 seconds. Upon resuming the ride the plan was to ride to Eccleston and then wind it up through Mawdesley, but we "got wound up" anyway. First, some chavs driving the OTHER WAY gave us an earful of abuse, then on the way through Mawdesley itself a stream of cars either blasted horns at us or nearly did a head-on into other vehicles in their desperation to pass us! With the Mawdesley Madmen having absolved the Darren and David show of the ROTR prize we could start thinking about the 30-second Tabata sprint session (to include Hoscar Moss, Dark Lane and the Formby Cycles/YOLO bridge) or, better still, about snatching some scran. You can guess where this is going, can't you..........

W IS FOR WEIGHT WATCHERS, WILD WEST STYLE

Only seven of us turned right onto Black Moor Road, but upon reaching the cafe no other riders from HMCC were there and we got two inside tables all to ourselves. Scones were popular today, until I picked up the menu and chose a very warming, filling meal, but also the ideal choice if you've reached 160lbs because you didn't follow the Government's new guidelines on alcohol consumption (the pub trade must love David Cameron almost as much as Mike Ashley and the mortgage brokers do). Today's lunch was a Tex-Mex Wild West beef chilli wrap with salad, followed by a small Mars Bar shortcake to round things off, and all washed down with a fat-burning cappuccino. Now that's responsible behaviour, that gets Kevin Murphy's approval, and that's called being driven to do better. I even did my good deed for the day collecting a teaspoon dropped by a kid so that his mum wouldn't have to bend down and pick it up; if only they knew how slippery bike shoes are on tiled floors and how easily she could have been CHINOOK'D..........I uploaded the lunch pics to the HMCC FB page and went to clean up in the bathroom, before joining the queue to unlock the bikes and head for home. I had no clashing Denver commitments to be home early for (that's because we're so awesome we got the top seed and avoided the first round of the playoffs, Lynchy's Redskins are on tonight at 9:40pm so hope he had a dry one at the Prince William) so with the sun out and winds easing, I thought it best to join the cafe stop crew on a trip through Hilldale to look at the end terrace house being sold for £160k, then up the Beacon to finish my legs off. Better to be doing the beasting now than when the race season starts, surely?

THERE WAS I, WAITING AT THE CHURCH - ACTUALLY NOT LONG AT ALL

We set off southwards from Rufford towards the fourth flood of the day just prior to the Hoscar Moss. This was just the right side of the divide between the two routes so I guess none of the fat-burn non-stoppers ended up taking the meaning of an early bath to the next level, but Dangerous Dave had a great idea to avoid the climb to Hilldale. Instead, we would take the back road to Maltkiln Lane and from here we would reach the Hilldale junction even quicker, so we could survey the damage left behind from the Endurance Store Duathlon. It was very satisfying to sit back and get an armchair view of just how much he and Chris Cooke have progressed over the winter, and they led us down the Common just as a burglar alarm went off in one of the nearby houses! Shortly after that we turned onto the Beacon, with the idea to park up at the church if we were in the lead, then me and Chris Cooke would head for home as we were heading west anyway. Having already pointed out Dave and Chris' prowess on the Hilldale descent, one should also credit Gemma for coming alive on the Beacon, as the planned park-up/take a selfie job for the day had to be abandoned, as she put in a very good finishing kick. Just imagine if she'd had the extra-nitrous chilli wrap......She completed the Beacon with Inder and Dangerous while me and Chris plunged into Skelmersdale, whereupon he turned off for home and I returned to Newburgh, which must have spooked BTWIN Bike Man as I'd passed him on the Church Lane descent only to see him coming the other way on Cobbs Brow! From Newburgh it was a long slog on my El Clasico route home via the Hoscar petrol station, with a FIFTH flood to contend with just after Briar's Hall. After that it was a stress-fest to raise the average speed as high as it would go and I thought for most of the return journey home that I wouldn't reach the 17mph mark, but some real beastly efforts at 21mph down Formby Lane boosted the score somewhat and after a YOLO effort to 23mph at the Formby Cycles bridge I could bask in the happiness of Mission Accomplished as I reached the magic mark just as I passed the local Specialized dealer. From here it was a blast over the junction, before diving down my drive as fast as possible to round off a 77-mile grand day out. Well done to all who stepped up today, you will all become better cyclists and better people for it as the spring approaches and we seek to kick on once again.

Now for the results, brought to you by HMCC's favourite, Continental tyres:

Distance: 124.43km/77.77 miles

Time: 4:33:19

Average Speed: 27.31kmh/17.07mph

Dead Inner Tubes: 1

Dead Rear Mechs: 1 Shimano Tiagra

Horses: 3

Hors Cat Climbs: 1 for most/2 for the extra miles group

Crashes: 1

Idiot Drivers: 1 in Tockholes plus 3 in Mawdesley

Money Spent Today: £11.60 on chilli wrap, Mars bar slice and cappuccino

REJECT OF THE RIDE: Mawdesley Merchants of Madmen

(So that’s a joint award to the chavs, the longest car horn ever and the one who shoved their nose in)

Let’s get going a bit quicker next week, there’s a 2:05pm kickoff to consider. In the meantime, lamb roast for Sunday dinner is calling, plus Bishop’s Finger ale……….