You have to ask. No really you do. What sorts of idiots go out in the sort of weather we had Sunday morning. Below zero temperatures, lots of snow and a biting arctic-esque wind. Read on and find out…
For a guy who really does not like mornings getting out of bed on a Sunday am to go riding is surprisingly easy. Maybe it’s something to do with it not being work. After forcing my porridge down I covered my flabby body with Lycra and after sticking my head out the door changed into a slightly warmer base layer. Loading the car the snow was lightly drifting to earth but not settling.
Manhandling the tank of an automobile that I laughingly call a car I picked up Pete and we made our way up to the Old Brickworks. Pulling up to the car park Martin gestured towards his watch so I gestured back. Unloading the car a good crowd was already in attendance and it swelled a little more as Roachy turned up with two new faces. Roachy introduced us and explained that he’d found them riding not far from his gaff and asked if they wanted to join us. Stupidly they’d said yes and here they were freezing their nuts off with the rest of us, and I was fairly sure I recognised one of them.
Everyone kitted up and ready to go, I did a quick head count (nine) and off we went. Before we’d even got a mile under our knobblies Pete got us lost twice… on the right track we flew down past the farm where a few weeks previous the hounds tried to eat us. With a very small tarmac climb we we’re at the Valley pub and the ride could begin proper.
At the first proper climb the stronger riders blasted on while the hill sloths amongst us made their way up in there own steady way. Passing Amy and the dude I’m sure I thought I recognised, I pedalled on with Keith not far behind me. It was then I realised who that guy was…. turns out I’d gone to school with him many moons ago. Small old world… regrouping at the top Keith had a moment while he gathered his breath and Amy went a funny shade of green. “Did anyone ring my mobile?†I asked the crew and with nobody owning up we set off once more. I sped up to catch Pete and let him know I was shooting to the bottom of keeper to get photos of people coming down. Descending keeper lane with snow and gloopy mud was a grin inducing challenge.
Not far from the descent’s end my phone started ringing again and with the last few seconds of downhill remaining there was no way I was stopping to answer it. I propped my steed up to one side and got ready for the guys to come and be photogenic.
With everyone down safe and sound, I returned to my bike and picked up my voicemail to hear a very confused Donny Dave wondered quite where we had left him…. Bugger.
“Have we lost anyone?†I asked the pootle crew. With a sudden realisation Pete’s face dropped, yep we had. I did a quick headcount and got nine once more. Hmmm, oh yeah I not counted myself at the car park, schoolboy error. Sometimes, ok most times, I can be a right prat. Pete took the stronger riders up the nightmare climb to the Bank House pub and a after certain rider’s hangover subsided we followed the stream to meet up where the other were going to descend to.
We got to the crossroads in the trail just as Pete was rescuing one of the new guys from the stream after a failed attempt to cross it. Luckily he’d not ended up in the drink but was balanced precariously track standing for dear life until assistance was available.
All together again, we rode on as the inbound snow got thicker and heavier. 
We played in the small wooded section and then made our way up the absolutely vile climb to our next stop.
After a brief breather, it was onwards again. At the first new section Roachy decided to bail out and took the new lads with him, leaving the party faithful to enjoy the rest. The brief downhill out of the way we attacked the next climb; a slippy cobbled mare of an ascent in the dry and an entertaining giggle in the snow. Sliding out early on it was impossible to get going again so I soldiered on, barely managing to walk it.
Catching up with everybody at the summit, they had all taken shelter from the bitter crosswind in the shadow of a gateway. For the last ten yards of the ascent I had managed to pedal it felt like my face was sticky, stopping to regroup I cleared the ice from my beard and onwards we rode.
Restoring the navigational balance Pete led us to the new section with barely contained gusto.
We traversed the railway crossing, continuing on and over the main road. After just a little more tarmac we hit the next field. Doing my best to retain control, I slid left and right through the snow. As Amy and I were joking about the lack of grip I ended up in a ditch but managed to stay upright while Amy went over sideways.
All upright again we rode into the woods following the trail up, down, left, right skidding and smiling all the way. With everyone caught up we lined up for what promised to be fantastic. With the trail a blanket of deep white snow all you could do was hang on for dear life as we followed the twists, turns and drops of the rider in front’s tracks. At the main trail we stopped for some lunch.
Everybody fed and watered we decided it was time to get back and save the rest of Pete’s treat for another time. Stopping for that brief interlude had giving us time to cool down and I was now starting to feel the weather getting to my hands. With all the ice and snow compacted in my pedals I was starting to have trouble clipping in but slowly onwards I pedalled.
Straight out of the woods and up the field we’d entered by the cold weather got the better of my bladder and I had to stop to make yellow snow. Back on the main road snow drifts were starting to form on the street corners and making our way back I was having to clear the ice from my goatee more and more. Back at the cobbled hill Keith slid out at the first corner and bent his mech hanger in the process.
Regrouping before the next climb I scraped as much ice as I could from the pedals using my Leatherman. Someone in the group reckoned I should have peed on them. Had I not had great fun earlier making yellow shapes in the now earlier I probably would have done it. We strted the climb and I rode as fast as I could manage with only one foot clipped in.
Cashing in on the altitude bank we fired down the horrible climb we’d ascended earlier and rolled onto the next climb to the farm. With the revolutions of the wheels slowing Amy’s rear wheel locked solid where the compacted ice could no longer get past the seat stays. While she pushed my bike up I carried hers until we could get on the flat and clear her bike.
With all of us wet and very cold Pete took the wise decision to cut the last off-road sections out and led back to the cars on the tarmac. Gliding back to the car if I could have moved my frozen face muscles they would have formed a feckin’ great grin
Fat Lad