With the nights getting lighter and the trails getting drier we’d made a decision via the forum to start extending the rides a little. Post day job, I dragged the Kona into the front yard to put my freshly cleaned chain on while the sun beat down gloriously. Self confessed newbie Andy rolled up as I was putting the final lick of lube to the chain and after fettling his steed to make it a little more off road friendly we were soon on the tarmac to Pete’s. Andy had splashed out on some new lights and wanted to know at quarter past seven when it would be dark. There speaks the voice of a man who hasn’t spent all winter in the dark, knee deep in gloop.
Despite Andy riding to work day after day I managed to lose him on the cobbled path by the chippy, I’d like to say it was my fitness or hill climbing technique but to be fair I think local knowledge may have played more of a part than I’d like to admit.
Before long we were at Pete’s and as we pulled up to his gate he sauntered down the street having just picked up his clothes from a local girl’s flat. With the eyebrows raised we wanted to know more; the resulting tail of a naked mad bint jumping out of her window after a row with her fella and Pete’s subsequent assistance was more bizarre than our depraved minds could ever muster.
While Pete got ready, Andy and I rolled over to the chippy to meet the rest of the pootle crew. Gezz was out on his singlespeed, Keith was out on his usual steed and Amy was out on her Specialized… only it was clean. Pete rolled over to us and during the welcome banter told us how this would be his second ride of the day. Somehow I knew it wouldn’t slow him down though…
We were soon off the road and onto the trails. With spring starting to flourish the lines had been reduced through recently ploughed fields but it was a small price to pay for brightening weather. Crossing the motorway bridge I introduced Andy to everybody. Formalities out of the way we followed the green side of the motorway up to the first obstacle of a short sharp hill. Everybody had a good crack but failed to clear it. That is until Gezz had a go. Then promptly cleaned it. On a Singlespeed. Bastard.
The ground is really starting to firm up in places and despite spending all the dark months riding through the Somme-like terrain I had to giggle as everybody skirted a puddle. Making good speed we hit the trailhead of singletrack and launched down it. Off the second or third corner Keith ended up in a heap with his custom “oofâ€. To make up for it he sailed beautifully off the next jump touching his wheels down silently. Regrouping at the bottom we tried to remember the last time Keith had ridden and stayed on for the duration…. We were struggling. Andy was still curious as to when the light would go completely so he could use his new lamp.
The smiles and pedalling kept coming and with the trails firm despite the odd section here and there we were at the stream crossing before we knew it. I climbed the next section well feeling good with every stroke of the crank. (I’m sure Gezz would have something to say about stroking cranks…) With a short breather it was time for the climb to the ruins, just to make everybody that little bit more jealous; Gezz stomped up the hill way ahead of us all making the first section with ease. Rather than taking the easier route that follows the contours he attacked it dead on hitting the slope with all he could muster. We had to giggle when he ran out steam, fell over, and the dramatically rolled down the hill like a skinny Castleford avalanche. Making my way up the first section shouted gently at Andy to shift. I have enough fun getting up these climbs as it is let alone having to avoid people as well.
All regrouped at the top we had a brief respite and we were onwards again. The light was starting to go now but still plenty enough of it about to not light up yet. We ambled across the fields and at the next challenge Amy managed to get tangle up in the barbed wire. After extracting her and the bike from the twisted metal wire it was time to assess the damage. On first inspection it looked a fairly nasty gash. After Dr Keith’s first aid kit came out (I’ve seen less medical gubbins in the back of an ambulance) and a quick antiseptic wipe the wound was less nasty than it originally looked. With the decision to cancel the Air Ambulance made and Amy patched up we were off again. Arriving at the gate we’d lost all the light and the sun was well and truly down. Dark skies in residence it was time for Andy’s moment of truth and wouldn’t you know it… it wouldn’t turn on….
Gezz had a fiddle (with the light pervs) but to no avail. We rattled down the singletrack to the church and for once I had a go at the steps that I always just dismount and walk down. So I approached the steps at a decent speed get my ample backside over the back of the saddle in preparation and promptly bottled it at the last minute. I’m such a coward at times…
Other side of the steps Keith’s battery had come disconnected so while he bodged it back together we had another crack at Andy’s lights but again with no joy. I knew that pussy-ing the steps the trail gods would be looking from something form me to make it up. So with a monumental effort and a first for me I stormed up the climb after the church to the next breather entirely using the middle chain ring. At the top Big Al’s Special Hill Medicine went round and with burning chests it was time to admit defeat with Andy’s lights and push on.
Past the Oak pub we headed for Haigh wood and catching up with everybody the group had bunched up on the first climb. Shooting along the ground rolling the wet doubles we were quickly onto the grass climb up to the reservoir. We soon skirted along the reservoir side and were negotiating the gate to the bomb hole. Barely all through the metal nightmare and Pete was up the steep challenge we all manage most days.
As the first of us blasted at the incline Pete’s voice could be heard booming encouragement from the darkness followed by giggles and belly laughs from the riders. Selecting the right gear and making my attempt I also burst into laughter as my Fireballs lit up Pete sat in a plastic garden chair one leg crossed. With everybody up we laughed some more and aimed for the bomb hole.
As Andy’s lights still weren’t playing, Pete fired down the bomb hole first and lit it up from that direction while I put both my lamps on to light up the descent. Andy safely in and out of the swooping dip we all made our way through with Gezz even going for a second go.
Back onto the tarmac we very swiftly to take advantage of the light and everybody’s good legs and tag some miles on. We cranked onwards and where we should have cut left to enter Beirut the local teenage dole queue fillers were holding a chav… Sorry camp fire. Quickly I led the group away from the smell of burning rubbish and smoke of burning car tyre through a safer but much duller route through Middleton itself. With the unfortunate but necessary detour over we hit the downhill death-star-trench run through the last section of Beirut at speed and at the end both Gezz and Pete skidded down Pete’s death slide.
Previously I had found a sneaky shortcut that takes out the worst bits of both the gravel stream and the horrible bramble infested narrow path by the scrap yard. I led everyone onto this and the penultimate climb of the night and everybody was chuffed at not having to wade through pebble sized broken rock. We followed the path to the railway crossing and with everybody safely across we chilled out for a bit laughing and joking before we made for the last climb and a pint.
I left everybody at the laundrette to dash home and get changed while the rest of the crew took in the last few sections of tarmac. Apparently at the top of the cobbled climb by the chippy Gezz managed to wreck his lamp…£270 worth of damaged it later transpired. Honestly you can’t leave the pootle crew for two seconds without something happening…
Fat Lad
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