Friday 4 July 2014

Being called a liar and eating a Pork Pie by the Marianas Trench - Another 100 mile bike ride

So, anyway, since I got home from the Marie Curie bike ride 10 days ago, I've mostly been eating bacon sandwiches and Maltesers and watching the World Cup with my mum.  Apart from the Parkrun on Saturday, the only exercise I've had has been going backwards and forwards to the shop to top up on bacon and Maltesers, so yesterday I thought I should get my finger out and do some cycling.

Whoever's bike that is, I'm pretty confident I could beat them in a sprint finish
I don't know if you've ever worn lycra, but it isn't particularly comfortable.  Especially the shorts.  So if you're going to wear it at all, it might as well be for a worthwhile distance.  Also, I'm trying to improve my stamina on the bike for later in the year, and to do that I really need to be riding 60 miles plus at a time.  Otherwise it's just too easy.  So once again yesterday I thought I'd ride 100 miles.  It's a nice round number after all.

I could have gone even faster if I didn't have to stop for trains
After my last two attempts at 100 mile bike rides, I decided to a) set off early b) go on a road bike c) try for the flattest 100 mile route I could find.  I thought it would be easier that way, and I was right.  I only started to completely come apart physically and mentally quite close to the end this time, instead of shortly after halfway.  Also, instead of riding for over 9 hours like on the last two, I managed to ride for only 7 and a half this time.

Almost halfway!
I chose a route I know.  This had the advantage of me not having to waste time reading a map, which is just as well, because I don't really understand them.

I stopped after 27 miles for breakfast at Beningborough Hall.  They do good porridge there.  I must have made good time because I was there for them opening the door at 9.30.

Here's my new prescription sunglasses - I can see in the dark and everything
Since I rode the Coast to Coast last week, I've picked up my new prescription sunglasses from my friends Ann and Jane at Moorhouse Opticians in Garforth, and they made life a lot easier.  Prior to getting them I was playing eye roulette with the two options available to me.  Either wear normal glasses on the bike and have all sorts of debris go round the side of them into my eyes, or wear cycling sunglasses but be virtually unable to see anything except for vague shapes.  Now I can do both.  I call Ann and Jane my friends by the way, because apart from hanging out with my mum watching the World Cup, since I moved back to Leeds going into the opticians every week has pretty much been my social life.  Now I'm all full up with new glasses I don't know what I'm going to do!

Wath - look out for Morris Dancers!
There's a nice symmetry about me doing my 100 mile route now starting from Leeds, because the middle 20 miles are the same 20 miles as they were when I used to do the ride leaving from Teesside.  In both incarnations, Easingwold comes at around the 40 mile point.  I usually stop at the Co-op there to top up on Lucozade, Minstrels and Pork Pies.

Don't carry a camera in your back pocket on the bike.  When you sweat the lens steams up
It was 10.45 when I got to Easingwold yesterday.  There are about 27 benches in the little square outside the Co-op.  At 10.45 yesterday 26 of them were empty, and I was sitting on the other one, but as soon as I saw the old guy with the big bruise on his head coming towards me, I knew he was going to sit next to me, and start trying to interview me.  I knew this, because it's happened to me before.

What is it about Co-op convenience stores?  Does each one come with an ageing nutter, who claims to have been a top sportsman?  In 2012 in Tobermory it was Jimmy the ex-boxer who claimed to have trained all the boxing greats.  Of the two hours I spent in Tobermory with Ruth that day, approximately 1 hour and 50 minutes of it was being talked at by Jimmy.  Jimmy spent much of the time telling me how to completely disable someone in a street brawl simply by putting your thumb down the waistband of their trousers.  I didn't say so at the time, but there's no way I'm putting my thumb down anyone's trousers, even if they're trying to attack me.  Not without a written invitation and / or a legal disclaimer at the very least.

Don't go near the Co-op.  That's where they keep the nutters!
Not only do these nutters exist, but there seems to be some sort of exchange scheme going on, because in Tobermory they've got Jimmy the Geordie, whereas in Easingwold they've got a Scottish guy called Harry.  Call me cynical if you like, but it's when people start carrying on as if they're taking part in the World Name Dropping Championships, that I get suspicious.

What I really wanted was just to have a 5 minute rest to sit and refuel but of course Harry with the bruised head had other ideas.  It turns out Harry used to play football for Chelsea and Manchester City and that he was Newcastle United's chief scout under Kevin Keegan, and that he's a close personal friend of Neil Warnock (not sure why anyone would make that one up).  If I'd been able to get a word in edgeways I might have told him that I know Alistair Griffin.  That would have shown him!

Yellow bikes - They're everywhere
Of course, all of Harry's story is completely plausible, how would I know if it's true, I'm not Wikipedia?  And it's possible I'm just a cynic thinking that he was making stuff up, but the thing was, to add insult to my doubts about his own back story, he kept calling me a liar...

This is pretty much how our conversation went:

Harry:  So where have you cycled from?
Me: Leeds
Harry: Leeds? Today? Fuck off!  You've no cycled from Leeds today.  That's 50 miles away.  It's 10.45 in the morning.
Me: Actually it's less than 40.  I set off early.  I've been up ages.
Harry: Fuck off!  How old are you son?
Me: I'm 46
Harry: Fuck off!  You're no 46.  26 more like.  What year were you born?
Me: 1968.
Harry: Fuck off!  Have you got any brothers and sisters?
Me: Yes, I've got a brother.  He's 41.
Harry: How old does he look?  12?
It was then that for reasons unknown he started talking about Rolf Harris and Stuart Hall, assuming I'd never heard of either of them.
Me: Of course I've heard of them.  I remember them from the 70s.  Can you tell what it is yet?  It's a Knockout etc...
Harry: Fuck off!  You were no in the 70s.

And so it went on...

Holes in the road and mad old blokes - just two of the hazards of life on the open road
On reflection, I suppose there are various ways of saying fuck off, some of which are more offensive than others.  I had to assume that his particular version of fuck off was Scottish ex-footballer speak for 'Wow, that thing you've just told me, it really is rather surprising and unexpected'.

When he asked me how long it would take me to cycle back to Leeds, I said 'around 3 hours'.  There was no way I was about to tell him that I was approximately 38 miles into a 100 mile day, and that I was going a lot further North before turning round.  He would have told me to fuck off again.

By halfway I was going quite fast, but I did slow down later into the wind
Anyway, I made my excuses and let Harry go.

Me on a previous 100 mile ride with Graeme and Suzanne
From Easingwold I used the middle part of my original 100 mile ride from 2007 (the Easingwold - Raskelf - Helperby - Cundall - Norton le Clay - Marton le Moor - Sharow - Ripon - Hutton Conyers - Wath part).  It had a nostalgic feel to it, as it reminded me of other 100 mile rides I've done, and the people I've done them with, ie Ruth, Suzanne, Graeme, Stephen and Mark in particular.  A lot of the places I passed through brought back memories of those other rides.

The Marianas Trench in Sharow - It still hasn't been filled in
As I cycled through Sharow, I stopped for a while at the Marianas Trench, which Mark once fell down when it was full of water, because he couldn't see it.  It was even bigger than I remember.  As a tribute, I stopped to take some photos and eat a pork pie there.  I resisted the temptation to go caving.

Fall down that and you might never be seen again!
I also passed through Wath, and there wasn't a single person around, which contrasted in my mind with the time I rode through there on a century ride in 2009 with Ruth and Suzanne, and the Street Fair was on, and the streets were full of Morris Dancers.

Wath 2009 - full

Wath 2014 - empty
Wath 2009 - with Morris Dancers
Once I'd turned back towards the south at Asenby I also rode past Leckby House, a place which thanks to Nigel and Sarah has often been our midway point on quite a few training rides, including some 100 milers.  It's actually a mixed blessing going there part way through a 100 mile bike ride, because by the time you've experienced the wonderful food and hospitality, you just want to stay there forever and never get on a bike again.  All I can say is that we must have been really determined to do the training for our previous Coast to Coasts, because some of the weather we've gone back out into after leaving there was absolutely horrendous.  Of course, there was the time we had to leave Mark in a barn to warm up because he was literally turning into Papa Smurf......but that's another story.

Yorkshire - they've even got bikes up the trees these days
Anyway, the fitness I've gained by doing the Coast to Coast, and the lighter bike, and the flatter route, must have made a difference yesterday, because whereas on the two earlier 100 mile rides I did in June, I felt like I was grovelling home on my hands and knees from about 60 miles in, on yesterday's ride I only really started grovelling from 90 miles.  It probably helped that it was a lot cooler too.

Last time out, I stopped for a pit stop on a bench in Cattal at the 85 mile point and then I went on a trip to Wrong Turn City, so this time, I decided to stop, but not make a mess of everything from there on.

The bench in Cattal - last time it all came apart from here
Thankfully, this time I didn't make any wrong turns at all, and although I hadn't judged the distance exactly right, and I had to add in a small diversion of a mile or so near home to get the total up to 100, I was home by 4.30.

4.30?  That's not even a day ride.  It's more like half a day!  If I'd known I'd get round so quick, I might have stayed longer and talked some more to Harry in Easingwold....actually, probably not...

He would have only called me a liar some more....

No comments:

Post a Comment