Tuesday 30 April 2013

Cycles of the mind, Bolton clarion culture club.


Bolton Clarion Culture Club

Well it may not be culture as others would perceive but the cycling world is a culture that stands on its own, a wonder world of athletes, personalities beyond the norm, geeks and a more than fair share of world champions on the two wheeled stage.
The diversity between cycling clubs is also akin to a cycle jumble, a mixture of interests and whacky, delve into this world and be amazed.
One way of delving into the wonderful world of cycling is to read, here again is a potpourri of cycling flavours, bikes, history of bikes, bike riders, history of bike riders, bicycle bibles, not to mention the ever growing row of cycling magazines on the shelf at Smiths, the cheapskates library. This upsurge is a response to the huge rise in cycling, all this on the back of a great British Olympic Games. You can now adopt a new training regime a day, all for the price of a weekly or monthly fee.
Dedicated club cyclists adopted this mantra over many years, and nowhere was it more obvious when we, Bolton clarion, held our first lend, lease, give, cycling book night at our now regular cheap and cheerful meeting place, Bradshaw conny club.
As far as I’m aware an organised event like this has never been tried so it was a risky venture when the idea was floated. However, the suspicion that cyclists do indeed read as well as ride was proven with the support by members on the evening, and not just by the number attending but by the sheer volume of books brought.
The aforementioned diversity was greatly illustrated in the books brought, something for every branch of cycling, from mechanicals to physicals, yes even medical advice on cycling ailments to the general cause, overtraining. Sir Brad, Sir Chris, Stephen Roache, the great Anquetil with a spicy account of the racy side of cycling, all good reading, much better than a lonely read on the bog at work.
Eleven members attended, a really good number for a first time effort and a fantastic response with the books on offer, had more members  arrived with books we would be looking at hiring a room at the town hall.
The event was rounded off with a free raffle, prize again donated by Geoff and Yvonne Smith, one that would have been much appreciated by a cyclist needing to recover after a hectic weekend. A new water bottle and a large bottle of recovery drink powder, banana flavoured, I wish I had won it. Dave Bisset won it in his absence, a family occasion cut his stay at the event short, winning ticket drawn by Chris Roach.
A thoroughly enjoyable evening that will continue to be enjoyed, cycles of the mind stimulated by a good cycling book.      

Sunday 28 April 2013

My mad mad time trial.


The Club Ten Champs.

Since returning from the Scarborough Easter Meet I began to cough, a dry niggling cough that seemed insignificant to begin with. The cough was dry so I dismissed it as a cold due to lack of mucus and blocked runny nose. However the cough began to be so irritating I could not sleep, night time seemed to make matters worse.
As I was due a blood test, my annual PSA count that allegedly checks progress or lack of, my prostate condition, I asked for a doctors appointment fearing by now a chest infection.
The doctor listened to my tale of woe, consulted the desk top PC then began to write. First up was a card to present to the walk in centre at Bolton One for an x ray, second was a prescription for an inhaler to help my wheezing. On my x ray card was the information that I was an ex smoker, time to worry?
I picked up the inhaler on the way out and went straight to the x ray dept, despite a good number of people present the service was surprisingly quick.
Friday evening I was informed by the doctors surgery my x ray revealed a chest infection, pick up medication on Saturday morning, antibiotics had been prescribed.
The medication had the name Amoxillin on the box, a bit of worry crossed my mind, wasn’t this that I once reacted to years ago after a visit to the dentist. No matter, start the treatment, the cough by now was a real pain, real heavy coughing that made the ribs and stomach hurt. I was relieved that the medication would work quick time, wouldn’t it?
While all this was going on the club ten mile championship was upcoming, the Tarleton tens were starting and I had entered on line a month in advance, crikey, if this doesn’t shift I won’t be able to ride.
One week on and as the last tablet of the medication taken, I was in a desperate situation, something had to be wrong, the antibiotics had not worked and what’s more I was worse than ever. The ribs were aching from the non stop coughing and my stomach felt like I had been doing six pack crunches non stop, oh the pain.
By one thirty in the morning my chest was caving in, the inhaler was empty and I was breathless, it was like my insides were expanding against my lungs and was on fire, jeeze, I’m having a heart attack or a violent reaction to the antibiotics.
In desperation I got into the car and presented myself to the A & E department, god I hope it’s not full of drunks.
I was seen to in quick time, only one drunk and one overdose case. A blood pressure test then a double dose of nebuliser fed through a mask to ease the breathing, a chest x ray and a blood test, wow, I’m doing well. All this takes time however and night becomes early dawn, the young doctor apologises for the time taken but explains he is awaiting the blood results, at last they arrive.
As before the chest x ray revealed nothing other than clear, that’s a relief, but, the chest infection is a viral infection and a virus does not respond to antibiotics, at last an explanation that solves the mystery of why I was getting worse and not better. Coupled with all this coughing and infection was the fact I had suffered an asthma attack that exacerbated the problem, hence the wheezing and breathing problem. The bad news was the virus was medically untreatable, it would clear up on it’s own, no time table, but it would go eventually. So the good news was my chest was, apart from the virus, clear, but how long before the coughing would stop was anybody’s guess. Over the counter cough tablets etc from the chemist would be the best bet but I was given tablets for the painful ribs and six pack.
Another trip to the doctors in an urgently sought appointment led to a prescription for the treatment of the asthma problem that was not helping the chest virus, two differing inhalers were obtained that eased the wheezing but did little for the continuing hard cough.
So what’s all this preamble got to do with the club ten champs? Well despite my problems I really wanted to ride the event, as unprepared as I was. I had hoped to ride a couple of the evening tens at Tarleton in preparation for the event, after all we, ( I ) had thrown down a challenge to Bury clarion to encourage inter club rivalry. At least I had the sense to step back from riding while coughing and limiting myself to a couple of gentle rides just to get out in the fresh air. As a result I had been virtually cycle inactive for a month, even my turbo trainer was sulking at me.
Friday night before the Wigan Wheelers ten at Garstang and I had the best nights sleep in a month, I slept the whole night through and awoke to a cough free morning. What a relief, I had been agonising over should I ride or should I not ride, that is the question, now I had a clear answer, I would ride. Wise or unwise remained to be seen, but to hell with it you’re only seventy five once.
 Now how do you tackle a ten mile time trial with no training whatsoever, easy, if you can ride ten miles or more, and I certainly can do more but at a relaxed pace. As Dave Bisset frequently jests, ‘ I will try to break the hour’ for a ten, but without jesting it is a good guide if you desperately want to ride, and I did.


Turbo training and past time trials have taught me that I have a high heart rate during time trials, to average around 180 beats per minute is quite normal for me, so all I have to do is ride well within my comfort zone. I set myself a target of around the 160 mark though warming up on the turbo pre event even that seemed optimistic.
Riding down to the start in an easy gear my computer was reading 28 mph, wow, then I was passed by a guy going twice my speed, I realised that something was amiss. I had changed the battery prior to riding and through squinted eyes managed make out the letters KPH instead of MPH, the computer had gone back to default, what a shame I was now back down to earth with the emphasis on easy not hard.
Being early to the start I continued to limber up easily on a quiet circuit close to the start and with an eye on the watch counted down the time to the off.
I was now fully aware of just how windy the afternoon was and despite lots of blue sky and sunshine there was a chill in the air.
A headwind start up the slight incline from the 54321 countdown made me even more conscious of the need to keep my heart rate in the required range. The 160 I found difficult on the turbo trainer in warm up was passed within the first half mile, here we go again. Reaching the first level bit I tried to control my pace and heart rate, it was difficult, it may have been a level bit but the strong headwind did its best to turn it into another incline.
The going was now easier with slight downward inclines but my heart beat refused to believe it and promptly sought to find its own level, soon 170 plus was on the clock face. Despite this high level I was not uncomfortable, sure my legs were feeling it but surprisingly no where near what I expected.
About a mile from the half way roundabout traffic ahead of me began to slow and hazard lights began to flash. In the middle of the road lay a crashed motor bike along with lots of debris, the unfortunate rider was lay on the roadside surrounded by people I assumed to be giving first aid.
I threaded my way past the obstacle and resumed my battle with the wind, the incline up to the roundabout and my ever increasing heart rate.
Circling the half way point I now looked forward to the ‘easy’ return with a nice tail wind, surely the old heart rate would welcome this respite and behave in a reasonable manner. The other contestants were obviously having no such problems as they passed me at speed, my mind blocked this out with ‘it’s your pace that counts’ keep in control.
The easy trip back was minimally interrupted again by the traffic tail back at the accident scene then it was back to the duel between me and my heart rate. During this ‘easier’ return leg the inclines pushed the heartbeat into the 180’s, again with no discomfort but I was thinking only of getting to the finish, too high a heart rate would risk a massive blow out and a complete loss of legs. I tried to regain a more conservative pace to eke out the reserves, I managed a little reduction along with a reduction in pace but I was intent on a flourishing finish. Surprisingly the legs were holding up quite well, hurting a bit but no sign of ‘jelly legs’ and this allowed a bit of confidence of making it back.
The same incline from the start was reached and I gave as much as I could down to the finish, heart rate be blowed as 186 was reached, a breathless shout of ‘69’ to the time keeper signified an end to my personal battle to complete the club ten mile championship. Time taken was secondary to a feeling of elation at having done ten miles at a pace above the pottering rate I have been condemned to over the past weeks and I survived.
You will by now know we have a new worthy champion in Dave Owen, congrats to him, and congrats too to Mark Ainsworth having the presence of mind during his ride to recognise no one was helping the injured motor cyclist in a proper manner, Mark gave up his chance of a medal with an act of humanity too little seen today.
William Cocker also supported the event to gain the silver award in a very respectful time for a complete novice, well done Will.
Tales of time trialling up and down the country are probably numerous, I don’t consider mine to be unique but oddly not too many are recorded, boring or not, it’s my story.          

Monday 22 April 2013

Transport for Greater Manchester

For those of you who have not logged onto this website, this is the link to the maps page. you might find this useful.

http://cycling.tfgm.com/maps.htm

Or you might not.

Enjoy.

Sunday 21 April 2013

Marmonte & Mont Blanc Overland Tours

2013 Tour Dates:    
Marmotte Tour           28th/31st July to 4th Aug 
                                  1st/4th Sept to 8th Sept    
Mont Blanc Tour        21st/24th July to 28th July   
                                  4th/7th Aug to 11th Aug    
                                  18th/21st Aug to 25th Aug 
Hi Peter,
Both our Marmotte & Mont Blanc overland tours take in some of the most iconic climbs in the Northern French Alps:
Marmotte Tour: Full circuit of the Marmotte Sportive route (Alpe d'Huez, Galibier, Telegraphe, Croix de Fer) plus Glandon & Madeleine - a great challenge, ideal for fit riders.
Mont Blanc Tour: Colombiere, Aravis, Saisies, Cormet de Roseland & Petit St. Bernard - more suitable for Alpine first timers.

As well as myself, there will be an experienced bike host riding with the group, and support vehicle with driver to carry luggage, refreshments and spare kit along the way. We take care of all the navigation, and are on hand to help in the event of any mechanical difficulties, so you are free to simply focus on the riding.
Each tour starts and finishes in Morzine, and is available as a 4 night package (£595), or as a 7 night package including 3 days led & supported riding from our Morzine base (£795). You can download the trip notes, including a full itinerary, from our Alpine cycle tours webpage.
Most days of every tour have a long and short route option, which you are free too choose on the day. This ensures a much more fluid cycle experience for everyone: each rider can go at their own pace, without the worry of holding up the group, or the need to wait around excessively for others to catch up.

Check out our website for full tour details, message me, or call if you'd prefer to talk it through.

All the best,
Paul Bramford
Director, Forever Morzine
www.forevermorzine.co.uk

+44 (0)7860 527606

KEY 2013 DATES:

16th June                                   Season Starts (Morzine-based, self-guided)
23rd June                                   Morzine Sportive Race Package
14th/17th July to 21st July        
Tour de France Trip
21st/24th July to 28th July        Mont Blanc Tour
28th/31st July to 4th Aug          Marmotte Tour
4th/7th Aug     to 11th Aug
        Mont Blanc Tour

18th/21st Aug to 25th Aug        Mont Blanc Tour
25th Aug         to 1st Sept         Father & Son Week
1st/4th Sept    to 8th Sept         Marmotte Tour

21th Sept                                    Season Ends (Morzine-based, self-guided)
You are receiving this update from Forever Morzine because you may be interested in an Alpine cycling holiday in 2013.

Wednesday 17 April 2013

Surprising find

Surprising find.

Whilst looking for something protective, a small box or suchlike, I chanced on a suitable one among some of Amy's old stuff. On opening it I found a number of National Clarion Meet ribbons, most of which were of recent history, but among them I found an old ribbon dated 1923 celebrating the meet at Buxton. 
I began to study it it closely and was amazed at the detail on the small ribbon. Name of manufacturer, the usual Fellowship is life, un fellowship is death but I was intrigued by the main depiction. Illustrated are, a flagon of ale,(presumed) two glasses, two clay pipes, a couple of sandwiches,(again presumed) and in bottom left what would seem to be a dice, I doubt it would be a sugar cube. Perhaps it was to signify who was getting the next round in. In a way it would seem to illustrate a social way of life for cyclists of the day, a more relaxed attitude to cycling where socializing is perhaps first and foremost as opposed to today's hectic emphasis on training hard even for what we used to take for granted, a good old fashioned social club run. 
I hope you find the ribbon as interesting as I did, cheers.
 

Saturday 13 April 2013

A ride round Rivington and an out of body experience.

An eventful ride on a low to medium fixed gear round Rivi today, suffering a bad throat and chest I ventured out on an easy recovery ride with the emphasis on 'easy'.
Rolling along easily with a strong wind behind I discarded all thoughts of the return ride into the same strong wind.
As I bowled along to Horwich a group of three fast moving cyclists were headed toward me, with a fantastic Bolton clarion jersey prominent on the front it had to be Dave Owen's Saturday ride, with a cheery shout and wave we passed without pause, gosh I wish I was that fit. (and young)
On the lane up to Rivington I saw a cyclist walking toward me, all the gear, smart clothing, looked like a neo pro almost. On asking what the problem was, a puncture was the response, the next bit I found hard to believe. I offered a spare tube to help him out, an offer he declined, 'I have a spare one'  he replied but he was unsure about removing the back wheel and all it entailed, he thanked me for the offer and my directive to the local bike shop, the Green Machine in Horwich. Most of us have heard the saying, 'all the gear, no idea' but this was hard to believe.
I carried on and mused on cyclists venturing out thinking punctures were a thing of the past, ah well.
A brief stop at the lower Barn for a bit of clarion spotting, but non on display I carried on to the new favourite watering hole, the Bowling Green cafe.
A number of bikes parked outside indicated the presence of, yep, cyclists. I immediately recognised one, a rather nice looking Lemond, part titanium, part carbon, it could only belong to Pete Wilson. Though he hasn't paid his subs this year I still count him as a member, another eight months yet to prise them out of him.
Three other ex members were present, one a member of the phoney clarion 1895, formed in 2008, the usual banter about fraud and misrepresentation took place before he left, no names, no writs.
Leaving the cafe I had a mental idea, for the first time in years I would ride Sheephouse Lane on my fix geared steed, I must be mad, however made the irreversible decision and with a strong wind at my back, I began the climb. It was my intention to ride to the first junction then take the left toward the old lead mines but first I had to get there.
My pace reduced to slower than slow as I got into the climb while my breathing got faster and faster, I must be mad, I've got a chest infection. I doggedly carried on, thoughts of a heart attack transcended the chest infection as my heart seemed to be battering my eardrums. The junction arrived and saved me, a sort of 'out of body experience', a bit of level then a downhill swoop worked wonders in terms of recovery, the next rise was taken at a good pace, ok it was only a slight rise but I felt good about it.
This section of road is actually a part of the course used in the Commonwealth Games but I am going in the opposite direction, much easier I thought. A nice swoop down to the reservoirs then down the Street and I am back in Rivington and thankful for the toilets at the barn, relief at last.
Despite now riding into the wind the lane with it's trees and hedgerows give some shelter so the going is still easy.
As I head down the main road I spot Dave Hession on his way up to Rivington, we stop and have a real good chat and exchange the latest news, some good, some not so good. We part company and I continue the few miles to home. Despite the near death climb of Sheephouse Lane I arrive home non the worse for wear and manage the short steep climb up to my house with a flourish. A nice ride that I feel was a worthwhile outing, Rivington lanes have so much to offer.

Friday 12 April 2013

BCCC Website Running Again

Hi guys, Bolton Clarion website www.boltonclarion.co.uk is up and running again. In upgrading the webserver account I have removed all the old files etc so we have clean database. Please could you check the site and let me know of any errors. Cheers Andy

Thursday 11 April 2013

Easter Meet with the National Clarion 2013


Clarion Easter Meet
Scarborough 2013

Easter Meet time and I ready myself for a trip over to Scarborough for the first time since eight years ago, also a clarion meet.
As we were facing the coldest March on record, plus visiting the east coast, a place renowned for being cold at the height of summer, preparation was of the utmost importance.
The first consideration was thermal underwear, as a callow youth I would only have tee shirts and a crew neck pullover and a brave face, but advancing years have brought a little sense.
Unsure of what activity would be most prominent, pub, cycling or socialising, the number of items of clothing being taken just grew and grew. Whatever the activity one thing was certain, my collection of merino wool vests would outnumber anything else, some of which I thank ‘Aldi’ for.
Socks, ski socks, thermal socks, thin socks, wool socks added to these were my little hotty toe warmers, cycling boots and overshoes.
With the accent on warmth sorted the rest was easy, lightweight trousers, posh shirt, and an assortment of tees and finally a waterproof.
A request from the ‘Meet’ organisers for the loan of our club time trial numbers and high viz jackets added another huge bag to the pile I had already assembled, Would there be room in Dave’s car for this lot? The answer to that last question was yes, Steve Menhams had taken the courageous decision to ride all the way to Scarborough on his bike, what a guy!
Dave arrived at one o’clock and the bike and stuff went into the back of the car quite comfortably, but even so thoughts of the return with three of us and luggage meant a bit of squeezing.
We are off.
Onto the M62 and heading east in good weather we seemed set fair for a trouble free trip across the country to Scarborough, before too many miles however the outlook was decidedly taking on a bleak appearance. Flashing motorway signs were indicating a problem ahead, delays from junction 23 to 25, ah well just a minor delay we thought. As the build up continued we were down to a crawl and finally a full stop, the motorway was now closed from junction 23.
The best way of dealing with this was to have a picnic, I rooted out a pack of four Mars bars and a box of twelve Easter eggs from one of my bags, chocolate is said to be for comfort eaters and we needed comforting right now, if I’d known we were to take a break, Kit Kats would perhaps have been more appropriate.
After a couple of hours of stop start due to three packed motorway lanes being funnelled into a single exit lane we eventually left the motorway and sought a detour beyond the supposedly clear junction 25, a good move as it turned out. Eventually we joined a fast moving road and made good progress to the A64 leading straight to Scarborough, it was like having shackles removed.
Reaching Scarborough we had only to find the hotel, as neither I nor Dave had thought to bring a copy of the Boots and Spurs giving details we were lost.
After a good deal of driving round with not a policeman in sight we eventually spotted a car hire place, good thinking, they are bound to know. After a friendly driver said he knew, and offering to take us for £4.60. before he realised we were in a car, he did point us in the right direction, with an added, ask again when over the bridge, the ‘bridge’ being a famous local landmark.
A very friendly receptionist at one hotel actually came out on the street and gave us precise directions, spot on, and in a couple of minutes we were there, the feeling of relief was almost overwhelming. By now it was around seven pm and the first room sought was the little one marked, ‘Men’, as I said, overwhelming relief.
Handshakes and greetings to familiar faces then up the never ending flights of stairs with luggage to the room, arriving at the door in a state of collapse, thank god, we’ve made it.
The evening begins with a bit of socialising and a drink or two, it’s good to see the Mayoress taking the time to seek out all clarion members and engage them in conversation, usually the local dignitaries are cornered barely meeting anyone other than a few. It’s not hard to spot clarion members, they were all wearing the ‘Scarborough meet ribbon’.
Among the members is one from London who never ceases to amaze, Martin Perfect, he made the trip over on his bike, a mere two hundred and forty mile marathon. Martin did the ride over three days and in doing so won the award for most miles covered cycling to the meet.
Our own hero, Steve Menhams, also chose to ride from Bolton to Scarborough, in one day. Steve covered one hundred and thirty three miles into the strong bitterly cold east headwind, arriving at the hotel around nine pm, understandably after stowing the bike, unpacking his huge panniers and showering he retired to bed. We saw him at breakfast the following morning looking non the worse for his leg weary journey, and to think Dave and I were legless just climbing the multi stairways.
Saturday morning begins in bright sunshine but the bitter east wind persisted, not that it trouble us much as the morning is going to be taken up by the National Clarion Annual Conference, sounds grand but a real turn off for those wishing to get out and ride their bikes.
As usual the meeting gets underway with the hope that due to a reduced agenda business will be over and done with allowing those present, time to a bit of sightseeing and cycling. Dave and I look forward to a bit of cycling on the Saturday but as Dave is Chair at the conference the whole morning goes by without a pedal being turned.
However, also as usual time drags on, and as usual you have the member addressing the meeting with the classic, ‘ Mr Chairman, I can sum the resolution up in one sentence’ and sits down fifteen minutes later.
The meeting does draw to a close but already I have one eye on the clock, we have the responsibility of getting the Bolton clarion numbers and high viz jackets over to the time trial HQ. We had been hopeful of getting there, HQ was about twelve miles out, but there was no one to take the kit over so Dave and I drove over. Any one who has run or been to a time trial HQ will be aware that no matter how early the organiser gets there he is beaten by eager contestants wanting to sign on and get a number on their back.
We arrived and sure enough plenty were awaiting the arrival of the numbers in the village hall scented with the all too familiar smell of embrocation, I swear horse liniment is in use today, and with a cold wind blowing liberal amounts were being applied to shaven legs.      

Me and Dave were stuck on a crossroad about four miles from the finish as marshals, a cold draughty corner but fortunately the almost cloudless skies meant plenty of sunshine that struggled to lift the temperature by a degree or two, where o where would the sport be without suffering volunteers.
For us the event was underway when the first rider came into view, whizzed past, as Dave ticked the number off the list. The crossroad was at the bottom of a hill and as the riders had a tail wind on this section they took great advantage of it, carbon aero wheels and disc wheels shwishing and rumbling by at great speed. Nick Hall (Bury) went screaming past on his drops, I shouted to him, ‘get on your tri bars’ not realising as I found out later, he had non fitted to his bike, a bit odd for a man fancied to win the clarion event. As the last man, number seventy screamed past at warp factor one, we just had to hang around a bit to collect numbers of those yet to pass though a few of the missing numbers were obviously ‘permanently ’missing, one of whom was our mile eating Martin. After his marathon ride he was down to compete in the ten mile time trial.
On returning to the HQ I made a hot tea and cakes my priority before turning my attention to the result board, as yet incomplete but would soon contain a bigger surprise than the time of the winner.
The course was described as ‘sporting’, a bit of an understatement in my opinion as a pig of a long long climb at the start was made even more difficult by the strong headwind, such a course would have been considered suicidal by me.
The results began to trickle in and of course being a clarion event we eagerly awaited the results of our fellow members and for a long time a clarion member was the overall leader, not only that, despite generous handicapping, he was leading that as scratch man, it was some ride by Mathew Ball coming all the way from West Lothian.
Martin provided a bigger comment as he recorded a really decent time despite being seen only by the start timekeeper and the finish timekeeper, perhaps he had passed us, and other marshals, at warp factor three and therefore invisible. He was unfortunately removed from the result board, Martin accepted the verdict with a smile, nice one.
The outright winner was a local lad who posted a fantastic time, a onetime national junior champ, well clear of the next man but there was little between the second and third places, Mathew taking a very creditable third.
As the result board provided crowded interest I took advantage of the quiet tea bar with another two cups of tea and cakes, it’s hard work marshalling.
Back at the Easter Meet HQ we relaxed again and took details of the evening event organised by Chris Goode, who along with fellow east coast members had taken responsibility for the whole weekend, and a very good job they did too. The event was being held in a church hall, an evening of Ceili dancing. Interestingly it was a ‘bring your own beer’, being a church hall of course it was soft drinks only provided. Now Ceili dancing is not every ones cup of tea but bear with it, prepare to be entertained.
Dave and I walked over to the event by a coastal path that was animated by waves crashing over the sea walls then along the front with its penny arcades and souvenir shops prompting Dave to pick up a couple of fridge magnets depicting the town. Fish and chips from a branch of the famous Harry Ramsden chain were ravenously enjoyed along the way to the dance. Our knowledge of the town had been greatly enhanced by an hour of being lost the day before and the hand written notes Dave had thoughtfully scribed before we left HQ.
All we needed now was an off licence to take on board the ‘booze’. As we wandered in our quest we were asked the directions of a particular bus service by a young lady with a broad scottish accent made even more brusque by inebriation. As we had no idea where we were other than in Scarborough we were of no help, the young lady rather loudly confronted other passers by with the question, ’are ye on an adventure ?’, obviously sorting tourist from local. Eventually the young lady and her male companion drifted away in the distance in their unusual quest.
We neared our destination and lo and behold came across a local Aldi store, how good and fortunate was that, we had been looking for an off licence and here we were with one of the best.
Ten bottles of Belgian lager plus plastic carrier at less than the price of a pint back at HQ highlights just what good value the store offers, Dave with his alcoholic ginger beer and cans of ‘Murphy’s’ was equally sorted.
Entering the church hall it was immediately obvious that we were the first one there, apart from the band, who were busy setting up and tuning on the stage. What struck me was the fact that all the band, with possibly one exception, were older than me, imagine that!
Some preparation had been made by someone as the evenings buffet had been nicely laid out and very good it looked too.
Dave and I sat like two lost souls sat there with drinks awaiting the party to start.  Eventually the guests began to arrive and despite not everyone being present yet the band struck up and an enthusiastic leader soon had volunteers on the floor, strictly come dancing it was not. For a start Dave was unexpectedly one of the volunteers. Since not many had much idea of ceili and country dancing a good deal of explaining and rehearsing the moves soon had hoots of laughter, audience participation was superb.
As more arrived, more were encouraged on to the dance floor, first man up for every dance was Dave, now if you thought cycling was energetic, forget it, the sight of Dave careering up and down the hall, doing doe si doe etc. Intervals between dances were very brief, just long enough to get into the next can of Murphy’s , a wiping of sweat with his jumper and Dave was up again. Believe me, Mr. Chairman is a man of unplumbed depths. The bravery of the ladies was to be respected also, how would you cope with the sight of a very large man careering toward you with little chance of pulling up? It was a good job Dave had the Murphy’s to replace lost minerals, I have never seen anyone in such a lather, it was all good fun. Despite lots of cajoling, I took no part in the dancing though I enjoyed it immensely along with my Belgian beer.
We had a welcome interval during which the buffet was started, it was indeed an excellent buffet and very plentiful, so much so that at the end of the evening pleas were made for people to take home a doggy bag.
In the chill of late night we unerringly found our way back to HQ where the warmth was very welcome, a cup of tea would have been a welcome nightcap but the room was bereft of the usual tea and coffee facilities, or so I thought.



Sunday morning was the day of the social rides, two of, one short easy pace, one long at a more brisk rate, but first came the Annual Photo Shoot, a grouping of the sections from around the country, a colourful occasion with each sections colours proudly worn. Standing out above the rest of course were the Bolton clarion jerseys of Steve and myself, oddly Dave posed as best he could in the old red yellow and black but non the less a colourful figure who can stand out anywhere. The photos were taken against the backdrop of Scarborough harbour and cloudless blue sky, what a picture, what stunning scenery, almost as stunning as the cyclist in the foreground. Photo shoot done, there was a general melee as route sheets, signing on sheets, maps were handed out in return of a one pound coin, wow, how cheap is that for an organised ride, I use the word organised advisedly. We were even given an official card to be stamped at the half way point.
Having breakfasted well I was ready to go, as were loads of other impatient cyclists eager to be off. At last the organiser stowed his saddlebag with remaining paperwork and to a loud cheer threw his leg over the crossbar and engaged the pedals and toe clips, we were off.
The rides were a sociable A ride and a sociable B ride, the A being the longer ride to Flamborough Head, while we who had opted for the B headed for the now familiar HQ village used for the previous days time trial. The village is a typical lovely place so fittingly situated in the East Yorkshire Wolds, a fine area for cycle touring with a lot to offer.
The village has a very nice tea room and it is there that we are making for via some beautiful rolling lanes.
The two rides left Scarborough together with a separation point about three miles out of town, despite the so called easy social group ride, the separation came a little early for some, my heart and lungs conveyed to me that someone must be off the back as I clung to the wheels of the first half dozen riders. The fast lads and ladies up near the front were just pedalling in their comfort zone whilst putting a few of us older guys distinctly out of theirs. Every now and again some up front would ask, ‘are we altogether?’, a positive shout from the back led them to believe it was so, it wasn’t.
Finally we reached the point of separation, the B ride regrouped and I was thankful of the break. Interestingly one who was troubled least by the earlier pace was the youngest rider with us, Alex Ball, a mere slip of a lad still in the infant school by the look of him, nine years old I think, son of Mathew from West Lothian, he was riding fantastically strong. Ian Clarke correctly pointed out that the oldest and the youngest clarion riders of the day were almost side by side.
During the re grouping it was discovered that Dave was missing along with two young ladies, well from my perspective they were young, one of whom happened to be Ian Clarke’s mother in law, mother of Jayne. It was decided , after a delay that Dave’s ability to read the map provided, would allow them to find the cafe stop, we would meet them there.
With young Alex showing everyone a good turn of speed the rendezvous was reached and an eager bunch of cyclists crowded in. As I went to the counter a young lady thrust a signing on sheet and a punch machine into my hands, I was now in charge of booking everyone in and out, plus punching the cards with a musical note.
Later Dave appeared along with the two ladies and gave a long and detailed explanation of what went wrong, all could have been condensed into, ‘we got lost’. However they had made it and we were glad to see them, being the b group on their own now, no one would be left on the return to Scarborough.
The cafe was a pleasant stop and like a true club run there was much milling around in the now pleasant sunshine as we made ready for the off, being only one wc the off was much delayed allowing plenty of photo shoots.
The route back was practically all in quiet lanes, some would describe them as rolling, others would say hilly, but as we stopped at the top of every climb no one flagged or complained, this was a real social ride. The ride was so social we even stopped at the bottom of a very steep hill as one clarion rider took the unusual decision to ‘walk’ down the hill, how cool is that for social riding. The ride also gave pleasure to young Alex as he just romped up every hill, another couple of years and he will give Mathew, a more than capable rider, a real run for his money. My money will be on Alex.
A couple of miles from the HQ we were back on busier roads but still not bad and still together in one group, also it was still early afternoon, plenty of time to make for the nominated pub in town that was showing the ‘Tour of Flanders’. The bike race would turn out to be just one of the afternoon’s attractions.
We found the pub in question without much difficulty, ‘The Cask’, and rather surprisingly Martin Perfect was already sat outside, it seems he had prior knowledge and made good use of it.
We settled into a crowded pub finding a table right in front of the tele showing the race and with about twenty five miles left to race we had timed it nicely.
It wasn’t long before another attraction, (or distraction) divided attention among the customers, the arrival of a noisy hen party, a bevy of busty , high heeled, hatted young and not so young ladies, dressed to kill in a variety of mini and super mini dresses. The odd one or two in tight trousers looked like they had been painted on, all this as a determined bunch of cyclists pounded the cobbles of Belgium for all they were worth, now where would you rather be.
As we sat with eyes flirting from tele to man trouble, the drinks flowed freely and the noisy hen party was interspersed with frequent hysterical laughter, perhaps it was the sight of ‘men in tights’ gazing at them with intent that brought the hilarity about, who knows.
Eventually a mini bus arrived to carry the mini skirted bevy of ladies to the next port of call on their pub crawl, the quiet on their dispersal was sudden, the race on the cobbles was now centre stage. The culmination of the race brought home just how strong and fit the pro’s are, Cancellara in particular, but unlike his two previous classics wins he had to dig deep as Sep Vanmarkek took him all the way to a fantastic sprint out on the velodrome finish. Cancellara won but boy was it close. 
Race over the drinks continued  awhile longer, as did the tv entertainment, the Oxford v Cambridge boat. After the excitement of the bike race the boat race seemed quite tame, to us anyway, though the spectators on the banks of the Thames were very raucous as usual. Oxford won by the way.  Eventually we had to leave the warmth of the cosy pub and get back to HQ for the big occasion, the National Clarion Awards Night.  
We rode back to HQ a little un steadier than we left for the pub but all went well and without incident.  
Showered and shaved we were ready to join the party when I began to look for something in drawers and cupboards and to my surprise found the tea and coffee making equipment stowed away in a cupboard, I was flabbergasted. I make a point of taking or buying extra tea and coffee, as well as milk when staying in hotels, this time I had taken a good supply including the milk. Ah well, you live and learn, I certainly did as I found the milk to be well and truly curdled.
The dinner went well and most notable for me was the superbly delicious steak, after the afternoon ride in bracing sea air, the entertainment at the pub, I was more than ready to dine.
After dinner we had a rather unusual after dinner guest speaker, a man well known locally as a road safety officer, recognised for his work with children and cycling safety. He commenced to give one of his safety lectures using raw eggs, dropped from a height, some in protective cardboard , others without. No doubt you will have guessed what the message was all about, the great never ending helmet question, to save the cranium or not save the cranium. Needless to say, opinion was divided..
Finally the awards ceremony took place, interestingly the north was again prominent with Bury, Stockport and West Lothian gaining a fair share of awards. Nottingham though took home most of the major trophies including team awards. With trophies for all disciplines, road, time trial, track, cyclo cross and mountain biking, you can see there is something for all, including non competitive and social awards, it’s a while since Bolton made  the awards but perhaps we can do something this year.
The night was drawn to a close with the event that all cycling clubs are famous for, even Bradley Wiggins alluded to it when being acclaimed winner of the Tour de France on the podium, it is of course the raffle. Bolton couldn’t even win at that, me Steve and Dave drew a blank despite many prizes being raffled.       
After an early excellent breakfast it was time to stow the bikes and baggage into Dave’s  car, this time Steve’s baggage was included which made for a very heavily laden vehicle.
Dave had a bit more clarion business to complete, the dual role of chairman and treasurer requiring a bit of tidying up, cheques etc, then we were off.
Wishing not for a repeat performance of our motorway to Scarborough, Dave chose a more traditional route across to Bolton hoping to avoid the mass exit from holiday resorts, we certainly did that.
The journey across Yorkshire went very well, Harrogate and Skipton were reached quite comfortably but once at Skipton things began to unravel.



Skipton was so busy, people were thronging to the ever popular outdoor market that runs all the way down the main street, quite unique, if you have never been I can recommend it but go on a bike, you’ll be lucky to get on a car park. So it was with us as Dave sought a parking spot with a cafe stop in mind, up to now we had made do with the Mars bars and easter eggs for a snack. The search for a parking spot was fruitless as we circled the car park along with others also intent on a stay in Skipton, eventually Dave decided to hit the road again in the direction of Clitheroe.
Leaving the town heading for the bypass Dave took my advice and turned into the lane to the Thomas the Tank village, Embsay. Dave’s nickname for me has been the human satnav, but today sunspots seriously disrupted the magnetic field. I will say now, that the clanger I was about to drop would be the most beautiful clanger ever dropped.
‘Turn left here’ Dave dutifully did so, and why not, I had got us out of a tight spot on the way to York, the left turn brought us into a very narrow lane, one with ‘passing places’ denoting just how narrow. A main road loomed at a tee junction, ‘which way’ take a right , we’ll head for Hellifield, my wires were well and truly crossed.
After a while, the road looked distinctly familiar as did the road signs that definitely disagreed with the direction we were allegedly heading, Grassington brought an exclamation from Dave, as did the sight of a very familiar landmark, Kilnsey Crag. On a nice summer day rock climbers can be seen tackling this famous overhang, but not today. God how had we finished up here. ‘Take the next left Dave, it leads to Settle, I promise’
The next left does indeed take us to Settle via Arncliffe and the beautiful Littondale, I swear that if you ever come down it to Grassington on a summers day the memory will live with you forever, it is that beautiful. As I said earlier it was a beautiful clanger, Steve Menhams whole heartedly agreed, even if it was with a chuckle, Dave remained non committal.
Dropping down from the top of the climb out of Littondale we are dwarfed on the right by the huge icon that epitomises the Yorkshire Dales, Wherneside, this area is known as the ‘Gateway to the Dales’. Dropping down to Stainforth it is amusing to see standing outside remote dwellings and farms the ubiquitous wheelie bin, despite the narrow lanes made still narrower by stubborn snowdrifts, collections are still being made.
We arrive in Settle and within minutes the option of fish and chips in the old market place chippy is taken, and almost as quickly the delicious meals were devoured, after all, the detour had delayed by some degree, lunchtime.
Suitably satisfied we took a stroll round he small compact market centre where Dave looked for more fridge magnets as a reminder of the Easter weekend, thankfully there were none illustrating ‘clangers’. Steve’s  interest in a merino wool ‘Buff’ quickly waned when learning from the shop assistant they had a price tag of £36.00. and just as quickly he came out of the shop.
Back in the car we are now on our last leg of an ‘interesting’ journey home but still with interest along the way, Rathmell, Flass Farm, memories of the tea room there, and summer rides down the Ribble valley.
With no further ‘detours’ on the default route back to Bolton we arrived with just doorstep drop offs left, first Steve then me, Dave must have let out a great gasp of relief as he left my doorstep, the hugely delayed journey home was almost over.
I put my weekend notes by the computer, so much had happened in four days, should I curtail the story and condense it to a few lines or do I write a mini novel, it had indeed been a novel weekend.    
Having found it difficult to stop writing, members will have to forgive me for being long winded, but if just a couple of you are inspired to enjoy a weekend with the National Clarion on an Easter Meet, I will be well pleased, cheers.          

Wednesday 10 April 2013

Weds 10th April!!
Big day, first time this year that I've managed to complete a club ride. Only Preston Marina with Frank & Ray  but nonetheless a huge step for me.
Just 52 miles as I got home furthest I've ridden since Oct.

Sunday 7 April 2013

Trans Pennine Trail

What a week on the Trans Pennine Trail covering 180miles of stunning English countryside. With my brother Eddy and two mates Mark G and John B we started at Stockport and ventured out into the Tameside wilderness not knowing what will come over the next 4 days. Immediately left out of the station we took the main road to the TPT crossing on wellington road. The weather was cold, dry and sunny but with an easterly wind.  Through a small housing estate and along the route at the side of the river Tame. Following the path through Brinnington, Denton, Haughton Green, Hyde, Hattersley, Wooley Bridge, Broadbottom, Charlesworth to Hadfield where we met the Longdendale trail over the tops to Woodhead tunnel. The snow was still prevalent at this height as we had to push our bikes the 6 inches deep snow. Pushing into the headwind we took the main road over the top of Windle edge and down to Dunford Bridge. Again we had the delights of 6inches deep snow and struggled to get through the snow and took the A616 back to the A628 and headed into Penistone and onto Barnsley. Day 2 was much easier as we had little climbing so only had the easterly head wind to fend with. Immediately onto the route we took off down to Wath Upon Dearne and headed east towards Doncaster and then up toward Selby. Due to the flat countryside the wind was unforgiving. The route took us through Bentley, Braithwaite and along the New Junction Canal to Sykehouse. continuing on we passed Snaith , Hirst Courtney, Brayton to Selby and the headed east to Howden but we turn to Goole for our overnight stay. On day 3 the weather was the same with stunning sunshine, cold but strong easterly wind. Heading back to howden, then through Saltmarshe, Blacktoft we met the Humber and could see the Humber Bridge in the distance. Following Elloughton, Brough, North Ferriby and to Hessle we stop at the Humber Bridge Country Park for lunch. Following on from the bridge we headed into Hull to the docks for a view of the Humber before heading north towards Hornsea. The last stretch from Hull to Hornsea was straight into the wind so was a fight all the way. The trail signs were excellent and easy to follow. Very few mishaps but continuous checking of the map ensured we were on the route.

Thursday 4 April 2013

Bernard's Car Wash ride.

Bernard's Car Wash Ride

I took up Bernard's invitation for the car wash ride, well I was interested, but Thursday morning wind had trees leaning over at 45 degrees coming in from the north east. I set off for the Beehive meeting place on a fixed wheel bike fully intending to take my own route to Mere Brow where the cafe is situated. Meeting the others I ignored the offer of joining them despite promises of an 'easy pace', I've heard that before, but not being very fit I declined.
My route was via Chorley and Worden Park and despite blustery winds it wasn't bad going in the morning sunshine.
Leaving Leyland with a great tail wind I headed for Croston and the road leading to the well known rickety bridge where I had a great surprise. A feature of riding over the bridge was the racket and noise as the loosely laid thick planks of wood jumped up and down under the wheels of the bike, thud thud thud.
Today I found the planks had been replaced by steel hollow planks, newly laid with a pale green look about then, upward facing dimples drilled in the middle are obviously for grip, give a strange but interesting look to the bridge. I rode along and found the steel planks behaved under the wheels in just the same way as the old wooden ones but the noise was now a tinnie rattling racket though the ride is nice and smooth, I quite enjoyed the new experience.
At Sollom I looked forward to the trip across the wide open agricultural space along Green lane, the wind seemed almost gale force and it was blowing me along at time trial pace while barely touching the pedals. In no time at all I was across the wide open expanse and entering the car wash cafe.
Just two bikes parked outside meant I was the first to arrive and as the others had taken the short cut it was a surprise. I reasoned that a puncture problem had led to a delay and I was one hundred per cent sure of the person to whom fate decreed the sad event.
I was unprepared for the next event as I looked out through the window while chatting to the two cyclists already in the cafe, up rolled Bernard along with several LRC members, had he turned traitor and left our lot?
A sheepish looking Bernard then began the tale he had been made aware of via mobile phone. I seems that as spare tubes and a broken pump had led to a decision by three to return to Rivington tea room. The puncture incident took place as he, Bernard, was hell bent on the fastest pace possible and failed to hear or heed shouts from behind, thank god I declined the invitation to accompany them. It was pure coincidence that the LRC arrived at the same time. Ken Bath, a former member was with Bernard and we had a good chinwag while dining, me devouring a 'big breakfast barm', egg bacon and sausages, as a healthy eating option.
Time to return home and once again I took the wind into consideration and plotted my route, it would be narrow lanes and hedgerows in order to negate much of the wind problem. Bernard manfully headed into the wind along with Ken and another lad, I think I made the better choice.
I managed to get back home trouble free, well almost, on approaching Adlington from Coppull the wide open main road I could not miss riding into a full on head wind that buckled my knees on the long drag past the wood yard, I was on the verge of a bonk.
After gaining the Windmill pub I made a brief stop to capture the scene across the reservoir of Rivi and Winter Hill, despite the cold wind it was a beautiful day, and I was knackered.