A RIDE - WADDINGTON

SUNDAY 13 MARCH 2011

The forecast was almost right, I feel justified in making this comment as regular weekend cyclist, plus midweek ones keep an almost unhealthy interest in what the weather has in store for the coming week, weeks in some cases.... Sunday morning arrived with the overnight rain still persisting down, looking through the window at a start to the day that looks decidedly unpleasant. The will to go out on a bike is diminishing until I look at the forecast, rain moving on, sunshine later.

The promise of sunshine does the trick and the porridge is put into the microwave for the pre requisite 'ping' time. This morning I mix a new energy drink for the day, I won 1.4 kilogram's of the stuff on a cycling web page, I will testify to the efficacy on return from today's ride. Such preparation is a necessity today as we are to be accompanied by the club ten mile champion. Another low turnout on the town hall square indicates the lack of faith in the promise of sunshine later in the day. Bull Hill sees a return of 'Bale out Bisset', who incidentally is our reigning ten mile champ, Dave decides that getting out of breath up the long drag is an indication of a need for more hill work, and promptly turns for home at Darwen, the hilly route home. This course of action by Dave leaves me at the mercy of a returned to form Bernard Nicholson, Bernard was getting cold waiting for us at the top of Bull Hill and could not wait to get going again. Being the reigning downhill champion I am first to the bottom of the swoop into Darwen, gosh it feels cold though.

We are now down to four and resume our way, the rain having now ceased, the going is a bit more pleasant with a hint of a tail wind. Blackburn is deemed a relief stop and Bernard takes advantage at Morrisons. The ride now to Whalley is quite good with another long drop downhill into the picturesque town, which is quite busy today, cars, despite the high fuel prices are queuing to get in and out the place. A bit of a testing time now as we head to Clitheroe, a long gentle drag Bernard could not resist flattening had me on the limit, the steam being emitted from the high neck of my windproof indicative of my effort. Into Clitheroe up the short steep incline I was in danger of a blackout, Bernard was glancing at the shop windows to see if, and who, was behind as he floated ever upward. Seeing me there he seemed to accelerate more and more.

On reaching the other side of the town, a loud twang came from Bernard's back wheel, I insisted he look for a broken spoke, I was in need of a rest, Bernard insisted it was just a bad back wheel but we stopped anyway. Another short sharp hill and we are on the doorstep of Waddington, Tim's café was never more welcome for me. The beauty of the village takes secondary interest as we pull up at the café. We place our orders and seat ourselves at a big table, the café is not too busy yet so there is lots of room. Full breakfasts and egg and beans on toast arrive quite quickly and are greedily tucked into while a hungry looking Bernard looks on. Bernard ordered a hot pot which duly arrived as we had finished, all eyes were now on him garnishing his food with pie crust, red cabbage and sliced pickled beetroot. After fifteen minutes watching Bernard demolishing his hotpot it was time to make a move towards home and the route chosen was Longridge via Chaigley, not an appetising prospect for me and my dicky knee. However the lanes through to Chaigley are not bad at all, the hedgerows real handy at cutting down the effects of the head wind we are now exposed to. The sun is now quite high but no real warmth is felt due to the still chill wind.

It was agreed that the climb of Chaigley will bring on a bit of a sweat. I told Bernard that at my dropping off the back to carry on regardless, I would see them at Higher Walton, I expected to struggle somewhat, and so I did. Breasting the top I was surprised to find the threesome were waiting for me, Bernard said he wanted to carry on but Pete Lane would have none of it, we are not leaving anyone he said. So there you have it, Bernard would have, Pete wouldn't. Anyway once we were off again I had not too much of a problem staying on Bernard's back wheel, in fact I recovered so much they let me back on the front again between Longridge and Preston. Despite a headwind we moved at a fair pace through to Preston and on to Higher Walton where the Bon Appetite provided a welcome pot of tea and a slice of cake, and we were surprisingly very early.

Again discussions of how to get home arose, the wind being in the right direction to make the Belmont route attractive, well to three of them anyway, my number one choice being the trusty A6. The climb up from the café nearly killed me, my left leg would not work and I was almost at the top before it could be of any assistance, a one legged effort of biblical proportions. Eventually it settled down and as I hit the A6 things began to be a whole lot easier, the wind offering comfort from behind.
As I have said before, the A6 and I are old friends, recollections of days of yore are abundant every time I travel it alone, the good times and good pals, the bad days and the misery of painful slogs, but always the joy of getting home after a long day out on my bike. Today is no different, I am glad to get home despite a good day out, and as ever Smudge is glad to see me, if only to refill her food dish. First thing I want to know is, who are Bolton playing in the semi final, Stoke as turns out with the multi millionaires of Manchester to battle out the other. Report by Tony Bowles