Rain Stops play...

As per the title really.

I'm still riding but just don't feel like blogging it anymore. I will explain the reason behind my decision though.

On May 30th my brother David died whilst out riding. It was sudden, it was a shock. It was and is, shit.

He was out riding in Macclesfield and suffered heart failure due to a previously undiagnosed heart condition. He was 21.

The following weeks have somewhat diminished my desire to blog my rides, as it is something that I feel he was part of.


I'm writing this final post to the few of you who do read my blog, as some sort of conclusion. This post isn't meant to be morbid and those of you who know me well are already aware of David's death. Just filling in the gaps.

Andy

One Armed Bandit

Following David fracturing his elbow two weeks ago at Llandegla, this was his first ride out. The plan was to take it gently to avoid aggravating his injury. The sun was shining and so we thought we'd ride up to Tatton Park in Knutsford for a bit of country air.

We headed down Brooklands Road towards Timperley when I heard a loud 'bang' similar to the popping of a balloon. I turned my head to see David looking dejectedly at his front tyre (the one I had inflated 5 minutes earlier). The first puncture of the ride less than a mile from home!

Puncture No1 - Brooklands

 

 

There was a huge tear in the tube, so after 5 minutes of faffing and we were on our way again. (Using my spare inner tube as David had forgotten to bring one).

Round Brooklands roundabout and onto Shaftesbury Avenue we plodded on, turning left at Thorley Lane and up towards Hale. We were soon in the hedgerow lined lanes of Ashley, so far so good. Davids elbow was holding up and we got into a nice rhythm and the lack of traffic meant that we were able to ride side by side and chat. There were dark clouds looming and we were headed toward them. As we turned into the park I could feel a few spots of rain...they rapidly turned into dirty great drops and we were decidedly damp within minutes. How remiss of us to forgoe our waterproofs! The shower passed as quickly as it had come and it was time for a danger panda.

David in a long distance danger panda. My fat carcass in the foreground.

Blurry danger panda over and done with we sought caffeine at from the friendly baristas' at Costa Coffee in Knutsford. I ordered two pints of black coffee and a couple of brownies (just to keep us going).

591ml of strong, black coffee

Re-energized from the beverage stop we decided to ride over to Alderley Edge and then onto Wilmslow. The weather was holding up and we hadn't done many miles. Off we went, a little quicker than before thanks to the caffeine kick.

A noise behind me again. This time a rattle and pop. I looked back to find David again looking dejectedly at his front wheel. I was starting to think that our little ride today was strewn with cowpats from the Devils own satanic herd! Front wheel off again, David set about using my 2nd and last inner tube.

Mobberley is very pleasant place to fix a puncture

After closer inspection it appeared that the first loud puncture had split the sidewall of the tyre, so we were unable to fully inflate it. This gave us a slight conundrum. We had no more inner tubes and no puncture repair kit. Going off recent historical evidence David was quite likely to puncture again before we got home. Being the more graceful rider I decided to take one for the team and swapped my front wheel for Davids. This meant we were going to have take it very easy on the way back. An even bigger problem was that my blue and white bike now had a red front wheel. THE SHAME! We had to get back without a further puncture and preferably without any of my shaven legged brethren seeing us.

Due to our current predicament we took a shorter route home, going past the Cheshire Smokehouse and under the runways. All was going well until we hit the back of Thorley Lane when the heavens opened yet again (I refer to my previous comments about the Satanic herd). The pace a bit faster now. We were quickly soaked through to the skin. Saturation was almost immediate. Back on Brooklands Road now the rain feeling more like hail. As I still had Davids front wheel we went back to his to swap the wheels back. Another mile and the dry warmth of my house beckoned. Shoes kicked off at the front door and cold beer in the fridge.

Just under 28 miles done. No more cowpats please.

Blitzkrieg!

Well, not really. Just a photo blitz! My focus on cycling has been upped by the recent spell of good weather (fair weather cyclist I hear you say). I haven't been blogging my rides as I promised myself I would. The  photos' below are just some of the rides I've done in the last month. Monthly mileage total (including today) is 715 miles for both road and mtb.

Coffee in Buxton

Good Friday Track meet at the Velodrome

Stay close to me

I'm bigger in real life

Danger Panda

David and his broken elbow following a crash

Llandegla

 

New sexiness

Cheshire lanes

Danger Panda

Best cafe in Hayfield (only)

Welcome to Derbyshire.

David looking bored

Jon messing around with a weird electric bike

I am not a number, I am a FREE MAN!

Water Park Waltz

Nice weather again but fancied a change from the road bike.

I've got a biking holiday coming up in the Alps in July and wanted to try flat pedals again. I've been riding spds for about 3 years now and find 'normal' pedals quite unnerving. I thought I'd play it safe with a gentle ride round the waterparks in into Chorlton.

Apart from a couple of foot slippages when trying to bunnyhop, it wasn't too bad. Not sure if I'll be keeping flats on though. We've got a ride planned in Macclesfield Forest on Saturday so may keep them on for that.

Stopped in at my mate Ian's shop for a chinwag on the way home. No coffee this time though. Ignorant sod!

GHETTO!

13 miles.

Swiss Hill and beans

28th March

This is my first up-to-date blog post in a while but as there has been a glut recently I won't drag this one out.

A quick after work jaunt upto Alderley Edge with the motive of 'ticking off' one of the 100 Greatest Cycling Climbs was the flavour of the day. I recruited my brother, David to the cause as he needs the exercise.

We headed down Brooklands Road and over to Screaming Gate Lane at the back of the airport. A right turn onto the Gin & Tonic Belt and under the runway tunnels. David had dropped behind at this point so I stopped to wait in the tunnels.

David flexes his inner tube replacing muscles

A puncture for David. It's a joke, he averages 1 puncture per ride, clumsy fecker. After much faffing and we set off again. Under the tunnels and out into the daylight and the short climb up to the Honey Bee Pub on the edge of Wilmslow. Barely catching our breath and clicking up a couple of gears we make haste toward the town centre and down to Alderley roundabout. The traffic is getting busier as we approach the start of rush hour. Over the railway bridge and into the land of the vain and indebted. A left turn onto Chapel Road and the tarmac was beginning to climb.

Bottom of Swiss Hill

 As you can see the bottom of the hill looks pleasant enough. The cobbles even look flat. It really doesn't last. As soon as you hit the first corner the vertiginous nature of the climb bares it's teeth. Moss, broken cobbles, dips, ruts, it's got it all in spades. By the first garage I'd lost all momentum and nearly toppled off to the side. I took a minute to get my breath. I saw David behind me pushing his bike up. He'd lost the will about 10 metres in! A club rider from Velo Club St Rafael shot past me seemingly undeterred by the gradient. BASTARD.

I mounted my bike and struggled to clip my feet back in. The climb continued to rise. I was really struggling to turn the pedals. The climb flattened out at the right hand turn and I thought I had made it but there was at least another 300m to go. I struggled on round the left hand turn and got out of my saddle to sprint the last 150m. I say sprint but it was in slow motion with an amazing amount of exertion for very little forward motion!

I was still quite pleased to have got to the top, even if it was in two parts. I'll be going back soon to do it in one...

A quick descent back into Alderley Edge hitting 35.7mph without pedalling and on for coffee and cake at Starbucks in Wilmslow.

Back home in time for tea. 26.2 miles.

Leeds to Bolton Abbey

24th March

Much to my surprise Bolton Abbey isn't actually in Bolton. This was quite fortunate as I was in Yorkshire. I wouldn't have fancied riding over to Lancashire and back.

Meeting Bod at Leeds train station we jumped in the car and drove out to Headingley to start the ride. A quick stop at The Edinburgh Bicycle Co-op to pick up a pair of cycling gloves and we set off.

Bod had planned a route utilising the back roads so we could enjoy the scenery and absence of traffic. As we moved out of the suburbs we began to feel a bit of a Deliverance vibe. We stopped to take a picture of one of the locals.

A Leeds local playing his Banjo for us

We decided to keep moving for fear of being made to squeal like a pig.

Otley was quite pleasant although the traffic slowed us down somewhat. We passed over a pretty bridge which reminded me of the Cotswolds

We had already warmed up by this point and I was beginning to be concerned by the amount of climbing we would be doing over the course of the day. Being a southerner (relatively speaking) and mainly road riding in Cheshire my legs were beginning to feel the burn. I decided to embrace Rule 6. This done I felt a weight lifted and and hit a high cadence to push on to Ilkley. The roads were quiet and the views were stunning. It felt like we were on holiday and we both began to enjoy liberation and excitement of riding on new (to us) roads. Simple pleasures.

Coming through Ilkley we were soon climbing again. A 1 in 5 climb beckoned. The road was beautifully smooth but very steep. My lungs and legs were burning. My eyes were blurred with the effort in the sun. As I looked at the middle third of the climb I thought my drink had been spiked. Why is there a statue of Christ, Mary and Mary Magdalene halfway up a hill, nowhere near a church?

Jesus and The Mary Chain?

After a brief rest we went onwards and upwards to Ilkely Moor and I was indeed Baht' at.

At the summit I slowed to wait for Bod who was sweating like Paul Gadd at a playgroup.

Come on Bod, Catch up!

Over the moor we went and then hit the descent. Flippin 'eck it was steep, twisty and fast. After riding through a little slurry we were on the main road. A quick right and more climbing, up the main road to Staithwaite. More climbing...and some sheep. Bod let out a primal scream and curiously seemed elated to see the lambs.

Mint Sauce?

I hurried him on for fear of worrying the livestock. After a breathtaking descent we were faced with another choice...

Desolation Valley? No Thanks.

I think we chose wisely.

We had passed a cobbled ford which is unnerving to say the least on skinny tyres.

 We were now at Bolton Abbey and a 'comfort stop' was needed after a couple of hours in the saddle. It was much prettier than I'd pictured and so we stopped to take a couple of snaps.

We headed over to the abbey and had a mooch around the graveyard. I found Fred Truemans' gravestone, which was unexpected.

A nosebag was long overdue so we sought out some food and a rest for tired legs.

The resting period was over and we needed to get back to the car in Leeds. We opted for the most direct route which was via the main road back to Headingley. Legs were tired at this point. As we plugged away at the never ending hill (about 6 miles of climbing) we began a more gentle pace. Double file up the road, chatting about the ride on the way. Soon back at Ilkey we could almost taste the end. 14 miles fell away fairly quickly but taking its' toll on the knees. The car was a welcome site. Bikes were packed into the car and the lure of Bretts Fish & Chips beckoned.

43.85 miles done and just Lou to pick up before we headed home.

Sale Water Park Bimble

20th March

My friend Dave is recovering from an operation so we decided on a gentle bimble around the waterparks and down to Fletcher Moss in Didsbury. Bod was recruited to stretch his legs and to take advantage of his extensive knowledge of the good bits of the TPT.  Myself and Dave met Bod at Jacksons' Bridge and headed down to Chorlton Water Park. We took the decision to head towards Didsbury so we wound our way down the Mersey.

As we hit Northenden it was obvious that the recent floods had taken their toll on the footpath. Branches and silt everywhere made the going quite arduous in places. The Mersey Valley Rangers had seen fit to close off some stretches of the path and picking our way round was somewhat precarious. Crossing at the Ford Bridge over on to Mill Lane, we turned left and went down towards Didsbury Golf Club on Ford Lane. Simons Bridge in Didsbury South loomed and we quickly scooted over to civilisation. A quick fanny around on the woodwork on the nature walk and we headed back through Didsbury and back into the Ghetto.

30 mins or so later and we were back to Gods Own Suburb, Sale.

Approximately 15 miles to the good. No pics I'm afraid.