Manchester to Liverpool Bike Events 26th May 2013

A rare thing indeed, sunny day that is. After enduring a rainy windswept day on the last event a couple of weeks ago, it was with glee I read this weekend's forecast. In the words of  the popular beat combo Elbow "It was looking like a beautiful day". Another early start again with Mrs S. taking me and the bike to the start at The Watersports Centre, Salford Quays, Manchester, which is looking pretty flash these days by the way.
Here participants were gathering, mainly on mountain bikes. In previous years this has been an event purely for those on this type of bike, as it followed a rough  path along the ship canal and  Mersey into Liverpool . However this year along with the shorter off road route there was a longer road route as well.

The usual good facilities at a Bike Events start and a good mix of riders again, not quite on the scale of the Manchester to Blackpool run as it seemed there were not too many gathered for the 8 am start . Plenty of people seemed to be registering on the day , suppose the weather helped and in a worthy cause for the NSPCC.

So the tape dropped and we were all off , mountain and road bikes together through the Quays and away towards Trafford Park.It was a bit stop start with traffic lights and roadworks but  Urmston and Partington rolled by and I found myself in a small chain gang, nicely tucked in I was spinning along lovely. I've found the benefits of this incredible over the last few events and as long as you take your turn on the front everyone seems happy. So over Warburton bridge, no charge on a bike, towards Culcheth. Up to now it was all nice and flat with the odd bump. The morning chill was burning off and things were warming up nicely. I hadn't been given the route card prior to the event nor had it been published anywhere,well not in any detail. So it was here the road started to rise up out of Culcheth through Lowton and Garswood up Billinge Hill. Well I wasn't expecting that climb. Needless to say the chain gang broke up and strung out. Before I knew it those fellas back wheels I'd been so close to for 25 miles were now a dot in the distance as I paced my way up the climb.

At the top the view was magnificent with a handful of riders stopped there admiring it, by the way taking on some drink and rest. Some were as surprised as me about the sneaky climb. I'm not that familiar with the terrain in these parts and assumed, wrongly as it happens, the whole route was flat as...  The drop down was rapid though and it wasn't long before I was spinning back to my usual pace. I could have been on a ride by myself for this part of the route as nobody past me. Other than the occasional event sign at the junctions to remind me what I was doing, I could have easily forgotten.

The route meandered through Rainford and toward Simmonswood and Kirkby. The rising tower blocks confirmed this.Skirting around Kirkby and the Knowsley Estate I was now into the urban suburbs of Huyton, Belle Vale towards Woolton. It was here, in between those two very different areas that I felt the dreaded firm tarmac through the seat, a rear wheel puncture about 7 miles from the finish. My heart sank, "bugger", well something along those lines, I thought. Oh yes, riders passed me now to remind me. They were all very friendly  though, asking if I was okay . First time using my new pump was a bit of a faff  but I managed to get enough air in the new tube to get me going again. I couldn't find what had caused the puncture, but prayed it wouldn't happen again as I was out of spare tubes now.

In the 20 minutes it had taken me to get going again my body had relaxed and wasn't impressed when I tried to push on. With a little cruel kick of a climb out of Woolton Village toward Allerton and past the infamous Strawberry Fields all the mountain bike riders rejoined us again as the routes converged.

Down to Riversdale and the sight of the Mersey onto the prom was a sure sign of the finish nearing.. The weather was magnificent and in true Bank Holiday tradition the crowds were out. I weaved along this bit in and out of the day trippers until finally I saw the finish. Raised up to my right I was suddenly directed toward a steep path which I was completely unprepared for. In  totally the wrong gear and with my momentum carrying  me up the tarmac path I slowed as the path ended, turning into a  grass field . Well on a road bike this isn't exactly easy. With several onlookers clapping I dug in to maintain some kind of dignity and speed. My right  leg suddenly cramped, obviously shocked at this sudden effort. Thankfully I crossed the line as it did and took a minute when I stopped. A bottle of water and another certificate for the garage wall.

I knew someone at the finish, they had done the mountain bike route and spotted me. we sat talking about our day and cycling nonsense, but in the back of my mind I had another 13 miles to ride home. He lent me a spare tube and a go with his more substantial pump on my tyre. I was very nice there lay  in the sun but eventually I dragged myself up and said my goodbye before a steady ride home. This time without incident.

A nice ride on a beautiful day, 70 miles done and another step toward my London to Paris fitness.

Lancashire Lanes Sportive Sunday 12th May 2013

This was a "must do" sportive when I first heard about it back in February. A 75 mile ride over Winter Hill and Belmont Village organised by a local club, Liverpool Mercury in association with my preferred bike supplier, Dolan Bikes. A good cause to, Marie Currie Cancer Charity.So for the first time I didn't need to bribe Mrs. S to take me or neither would I have to get up at ridiculous o'clock to drive to the event. I could ride there and enjoy the day. All I wanted was good weather.....Ahem.

As is the trend at the moment with the weather, the seasons seem to be back to front, gales and heavy rain forecast for an early summer Sunday, didn't inspire me. I was pleased to see several colleagues with whom I'd worked with in the past, were also participating.

Along with one of these, Bill, we rode to the start at the Parish Hall for 8:30 am. Despite the forecast conditions seemed promising, however I'd decided to be cautious and not take my new carbon bike but the old faithful winter one, which was still sporting  it's mudguards. This would prove to be a  good decision later. Several hundred riders congregated near to the start as the organisers tried to relay last minute route changes due to roadworks on the way. Like horses at the Grand National start we gathered by the road before we were off. Lots of local north west club riders were here and keen to get going as they set off in their groups. Compared to what I'm used to, which is mainly riding alone, the pace was blistering. I was able to comfortably stay within the groups which does make a difference. I smashed every Strava PR I had for the first 20 miles or so. 

However, this rip-roaring speed in the initial stages would come home to roost later on. I got a little carried away I think. Things started to string out as we reached the first climbs. Bill had left me and turned back , as he'd a prior appointment and couldn't complete the full event.

So there I was alone, the occasional club rider flying past me as I rode at my usual pace.

I had ridden the route back in March just after it was published on their site. This was purely to see if I was capable of completing it in a reasonable time. So I knew the climbing that lay ahead and was conserving a bit for that. 

As I reached the Rivington Reservoir, I mentally stalled. should I take a break here ? 

I decided to push on even though I could feel a bit of muscle cramp in my legs. That early pace was having an effect. Somewhat concerned at this unusual early fatigue, I hit the climb with some apprehension. I normally don't feel the cramp until at least 60 or so miles and often not at all. This was a worrying development.   

My diesel engine approach to hills has served me well in the past and having completed this hill a few weeks previous I was confident of making it. Head down and push, a few riders past me but thankfully they were not exactly flying up themselves. Soon enough Belmont village was reached and I didn't have to crick my neck to see the the winter hill mast any more.

I spun along happily but my legs were cramping again following the effort. Choosing a smaller ring I  took the strain off them and to add insult to injury the rain began to fall. A brief stop to put my waterproof on eased the stiffness in the thighs and the ride to Brindle would be a bit easier.

Brindle, turning left at the aptly named Cavendish Arms, with not a sprint left in me I free wheeled  into the village hall and was greeted by hundreds of abandoned bikes. Not a wall or kerb was free here as this was the rest stop. The organisers had laid on a lavish banquet of beans on toast, tea, biscuits and juice. With the queue spilling out of the door I drank the rest of my liquid and ate one of my banana specials. Unsure whether or not to grab a meal I concluded that a brief break would assist me greatly and duly joined the queue. 

I sat down with my food at a table where a few riders were sat, one of them asked us how well we knew the area as his friend had missed the turn at Rivington and in an effort to rectify the error was now in Bolton. Christ I thought, I'd cut my losses and head home.

He was in mid conversation with them when I made my excuses and left . 

I was getting too comfortable there so I stuck my gloves and helmet back on topped up my bottle and grabbed a biscuit before leaving. It was raining more heavily now as I set  off for the remaining 32 miles home. I was alone again apart from the occasional group crossing my path from obviously the wrong way,trying to get back on course. A few times I was asked if I knew where I was. 

The rain grew heavier and the wind stronger, both in my face. This proved to be mentally sapping.

Not for the first time I questioned my decision to participate in this event and the fact I had taken a days leave for this punishment. The familiar villages rolled passed me seemingly slower than I had even ridden through them before.  Leyland, Eccleston and Mawdsley. Eccleston is the home of Sir Bradley and there was some suggestion his wife was riding this event, I never saw her and if she was, by now I think she'd have called it a day. 

The weather was more akin to a November weekday as it seeped into every corner of my clothing.

As I left Mawdsley I was caught by a group of about 8 riders who pretty much saved me from delirium. In the nick of time I was able to shield myself from the elements in the middle and maintain a steady pace.

 The conversation took our minds off the worsening weather for a few miles before the pace of the group meant a few of us dropped off the back by the last pull up at Ormskirk. The drag over this hill of which I am so familiar was tough. My legs were leaden and I was ready for a hot bath. 

I dragged myself over it and rejoined Rick, one of the old boys in the group with whom I'd chatted to. The final 2 or so miles we rode together and shared our days aches and pains . 

Arriving back I rested my bike against the wall and gingerly walked through the doors.

Cyclists sat along  a trestle table with steam rising from them. I collected a rather small cheap certificate by way of acknowledgement of my achievement and pondered how to get it home dry.

A quick biscuit and two brews later I wrung out my gloves and jumped back on the bike for the final push home.

A rewarding day and given the good cause, cheap cost of the event I can only complain about the awful weather. 

Jodrell Bank Classic Cyclosportive 10th March 2013

5 am Sunday 10 th March 2013 , I awoke well before the alarm. I wasn't sure if it was the apprehension of an 80 mile ride or the weather forecast which was grim to say the least. I'd sorted the car out the day before, but in the few minutes it took to place my bike on the rack, my hands were frozen, not a good sign. It took me about 50 minutes to drive to Poynton Leisure Centre where the attendants were working furiously to organise cars neatly as they arrived. I was lucky and parked quickly. The wind was gusting straight off the Urals right through the car park as the snow began to fall, I wondered why I'd thought this was a good idea. I'd had the choice of a 30, 50 or 80 mile ride when I booked this. In my efforts to gain experience of bigger miles to help my London to Paris fitness, I hadn't considered doing anything less than the 80, until now.
As 8 am loomed, the official start time of the event, I made my way to the start. Wrapped in several layers of clothing I was keen to get going and warm up. Just after the hour I was off alone, but with dozens of other like minded riders.

A few miles in I felt good, the winter training was making a difference, albeit a small one. I'd programmed the Garmin with the 80 mile course, but the signs were well placed and I didn't need to worry for the first dozen or so miles as everyone was doing the same route. I rode west toward Wilmslow and through Alderley Edge onto Mobberley. Here the route split for those on the 50 and 80 mile stints. A diversion around Tatton Park brought us back to Knutsford  and then Mobberley again. Briefly into the head wind which had been so helpful behind me, was now most unwelcome. A wind chill of -4 degrees into my face, you can sense my joy. I turned south and headed toward Middlewich . A 15 minute stop near to here gave me the chance to re fuel with energy drinks and flapjacks and lifted my spirits. I knew the worst was to come, 40 miles of head winds and two steep climbs lay ahead. The legs felt good and I'd teamed up with another rider doing the 80 miles alone. We shared a few war stories and decided to help each other out swapping lead riding positions as the wind gusted stronger or so it seemed. He confessed to me that his achillies heal was hills, not exactly my favourite either. After 40 minutes or so we separated and I watched him ride on ahead as I slowed and took on more liquid. We would meet again in the latter stages.
By now I was  heading towards Congleton and up towards Macclesfield. At times here I thought I was alone and the event had finished, it was only the route signs and the occasional rider at the road side that reassured me I had not been forgotten. There had been over seven hundred riders registered and only a small percentage had gone for the 80 mile route and I suspected some of those had seen the forecast and not even turned up. I can't say I blamed them, by 65 miles I was in the hurt locker myself. I had some emergency banana butties smothered in golden syrup that I downed as if my life depended on it. Well it kind of did . It seemed like forever that ride to Prestbury, but this village with the partly cobbled road surface was a sure sign that I was getting close now.
Bollington, I have only ever been here once before, last summer on a ride, I knew the severity of the hill out of the village. That time I had the joy of free wheeling down it,  sadly the opposite lay ahead. As I rode through the village I mulled over in my mind whether or not I should take a break before the climb up what I'd describe as the Hovis Hill. I decided to push on, my leaden legs slowly pulled me up and past my fellow rider who was not wrong about his weakness for hills. Bless him, he was off the bike and pushing it along the pavement.I offered some words of encouragement and rode past. I felt bad that I hadn't stopped, but I knew I would never have clipped back into my pedals again had I done so.
The hill soon leveled out and I could change gear to a more manly cog and pick up speed. The elevation was slow and gradual on this bit and I yearned for a sign that read Poynton. Soon enough it came and I caught up with two riders tailing them for the final few miles down hill.
Through the suburban streets and into Poynton Leisure Centre to the finish. The car park was almost empty and people were packing up and leaving. The poor compare who'd set us off over 6 and a bit hours ago was still desperately cracking jokes and in a scene reminiscent of the final moments on the deck of the Titanic, he played on.
I was thankful there was some sense of  acknowledgement of my achievement, if only by this guy.
I followed some of the other finishing riders to the sports hall where hot drinks and food were being served. Here I collected my printed certificate complete with blank spaces to put my name on and a cup of coffee.
I didn't dwell and shoved the bike on the rack satisfied with my days ride and another step nearer my goal.

Plans for 2013

It's been a busy month, January . The purchase of a Turbo Trainer has been a great success so far. I've been able to get on the bike whatever the weather. This year's big trip will not be another Coast to Coast but an organised 4 day  trip from London to Paris in September. I'll be doing it with my Nephew.. So in preparation I've thrown myself on several Sportive / Charity rides this year to get me up to  a reasonable level of fitness. I've put myself in the ballot for Ride London 100 in August, I'll find out in the next few weeks if they've been foolish enough to pick me. 20,000 places and 50.000 applicants. I've also plumped for the Jodrell Bank Classic in March. An 80 ride through Cheshire. There are a couple of possible events in June but nothing booked yet. I'd like to do the Liverpool Chester Liverpool tunnel run in July but this may be difficult due to work commitments. As will the Manchester 100 in September.  But I'm booked in for the Bike Events - Manchester Blackpool run again .

Cold wet and windy

Not that there was much transition between summer and winter this year , all but a few nice days in September and October. On which,  sadly I was working. It's been difficult to maintain the summer's cycle fitness and there's a definite slope downwards on the Garmin Connect graph. However my thoughts on what rides to do next year have kept me motivated. A few mechanically issues with the trusty Cannondale, on which I've done both Coast to Coast rides, have lead to me replacing and upgrading the bottom bracket. I've booked for next year's Bike Events Man to Blackpool again and I'm waiting to see about doing a few others.
Thanks to all that donated to help the MNDA this year It's very much appreciated.

Manchester 100 ( Bike Events ) 2nd September 2012

Despite one of the wettest summers on record, my cycle fitness has improved over the last few months. So when I saw I had no work commitments on the day of this event  I decided to sign up.The decision was should I do the 100km or 100 miles ? At the moment I think I'm good for the 100 miles, but thought I'd air on the side of caution having never ridden in this event before. So I plumped for the lesser of the two.

The alarm went off at 05:45, a misty, dull morning with light drizzle. It wasn't cold, just a bit uninspiring. The forecast was for it to brighten up later .I threw everything into the car in anticipation of a wet day, given the accuracy of the recent weather predictions. No need for the efforts of Mrs. S. this time, as this was a circular route returning back to the start at Wythenshawe Park, I could drive myself there and back. I'd paid for a car park spot when signing up.So bike on the car  I set off at 06:30 and made good time, on the M56 as I approached the turn for Wythenshawe I was greeted by a car park of  vehicles with thousands of pounds worth of carbon fibre strapped to them.. I had to stop on the motorway itself, not a great feeling watching  trucks in my rear view mirror hurtling toward me. It was obvious that this was the queue for the event and that no one was going to give up their place. Given that the entrance was about a mile from where I was on the motorway and the queue wasn't moving I decided to drive on in the hope that the sat.nav., which I'd now activated, would find an alternative route. It did, telling me to do a U- turn back down the motorway, where I joined the back of the queue. I sat in it for about 15 minutes and discovered another way  around. I pulled out of the queue for the second time hoping this would work. Thankfully and surprisingly I found myself in front of the park entrance within 5 minutes. However I could see signs saying "drop off only" at the entrance, so not wanting to create a chaotic scene I drove past it and into a nearby street. There I parked the car and rode the bike back to the park and start

I had loosely arranged to meet a colleague, but given the state of the roads on the way in and the fact I was already late and suspected it would be the same for him, I set off in the next group out . It was still a bit dull with spots of rain but little or no wind, it was ideal really. A busy ride out towards Tatton Park and Knutsford  which was a bit stop - start  but no problems. I had the opportunity to speak to  a few people and got the measure of those participating . This seemed slightly more serious than the Manchester to Blackpool events I'd ridden in before with less "novelty riders" . None the worse for it, just different . Still a great atmosphere among those I rode alongside.

Before I knew it 20 miles had sailed past along with some very pretty villages. In the back of my mind I had thought about not stopping until the end and feeding and watering whilst in the saddle, but there were numerous feeding stations along the way and some rather tempting to.So it was at just under halfway around I stopped at The Old Star pub in Winsford  for a quick social media update, Soreen and a drink. Great to see a beer garden and marquee full of cyclists.

Before my legs seized I got back on the bike and set off again. Surprising what 10 minutes break can give you, I felt good. Not many what I'd call "killer hills"  up till now so I was rather enjoying the route.I managed to get behind two guys and stayed with them at a good pace for about 10 miles. Around 40 miles in I was privy to a conversation between two guys behind me talking about a climb near to Lower Peover, but it came and went without incident. With that though I started to feel a few twinges of cramp in the usual places. I quickly downed an energy gel and the remaining liquid in my water bottles and pushed on. Next was Wilmslow, by now it was approaching lunch time. The sun was breaking through as were the beautiful people. A sure sign of nearing the finish . Legs were starting feel a bit heavy by now with the cramp subsiding I could still maintain 15-17 mph. I didn't feel too bad though. The last proper climb peaked at Styal, now downhill.

Back into the urban jungle I rode behind a couple on a tandem for the last few miles debating in my mind the pro's and con's of such a thing. Yeah I'd  like to try it one day, preferably when no one was watching.
The marker board counted down till I saw 1 mile to go. A final push as I turned into the park, I'd left the couple on the tandem and found myself alone on the run in to the finish. I must remember to stop the Garmin as I cross the line I told myself. But the rapturous applause and compere on the loudspeaker again distracted me as I imagined I was something I'm quite obviously not, Bradley.

I forgot to stop the Garmin. A couple of minutes later I realised and collecting a bottle of water , Soreen and a certificate I watched the following riders cross the line accompanied by a steel band which started playing.
An almost carnival atmosphere had just begun, was it my arrival , no it was lunchtime.

Great event despite the traffic chaos in the morning and all being well I'm up for the 100 miles next year.
See you there.

Manchester to Blackpool Bike Events 8th July 2012

Another early start , up at 5.30, bike on the car, Mrs S. took me to MUFC ground at Old Trafford Manchester for this years Bike Events cycle. Having enjoyed this so much last year, I registered early to make sure I was going to be there again. However with the recent biblical weather it was looking like a swim rather than a cycle.The forecast was good and on the morning itself it looked like the cycle gods were in a good mood.

This year I was joined by family, friends and colleagues, although we would all string out along the way. I'd plumped for an earlier start time to avoid the congestion of last years start, which seemed to work. Setting off at 07:30 we rode at a steady pace for 5 miles before my nephew and I rode on ahead of our friends. The weather was perfect, not too cold or hot and little wind. Lots of different kinds of cyclists again. This is why I love this event, from your semi-pro with a bike worth more than my car, to your "look what I found in the garage" riders. Guys and girls in one piece lycra with teardrop time trial helmets,  to people in jeans, trainers and baseball caps. There's a real mix.here and I think it's great.

At the halfway point around Chorley / Charnock Richard we stopped for and snack and drink. This made all the difference as we left feeling refreshed. The competitive nature of my nephew took over here, as we left he stopped with a problem with his saddle bag. I waited for him to sort it and then the bugger left me with a "Manx Missile" sprint out of the blocks. I'm far too long in the tooth to play those games so I didn't even bother trying to catch him. He had his goal to beat 4 hours, so I rode at my usual steady but progressive pace and watched him disappear.

I took in the sights as we neared Preston , which is always a bit tricky given the number of riders competing for tarmac space with frustrated motorists out for their Sunday drive. Getting through Preston unscathed, I rode on toward Lytham. The sun was out and it was getting quite warm, but as last year proved, this is where the wind is and it's always in your face. I tried to slip stream other riders to protect myself , but they were either too fast or too slow. No one was riding at my pace here, so I stuck my head down and rode on.

Counting down the mile boards to the finish was the only time I lifted my head and at 1 mile out I looked up to see the Pleasure Beach at Blackpool . I wondered about doing a "Le Tour" finish again but decided it was a bad idea, without doubt I'd have ended up in a pile underneath the bike in front of hundreds, so my finish was one of a relieved escapee having made it home.

I'd finished about 15 minutes behind my nephew, given that he's less than half my age, I was pleased with that. We had to hang around for Mrs. S to arrive and find us, so watched the finishers arrive. Would you believe it someone did crash at the finish. My decision was vindicated, I think they were okay, more embarrassed than hurt I'd suggest.

Our friends and colleagues arrived a couple of hours after us, a great achievement for all concerned.

Once again it had been a great day and if you ride a bike this is a great event to participate in.