Mark Walker’s last report on a club run detailed the most epic of rides in torrential weather. This report, for the ride on Sunday 9th February, is all about the longest ride we’ve covered so far, in conditions not much better than a few weeks ago, in particular the wind which was very strong.

 

That didn’t deter eight riders turning up, of which included six from the club’s Racing Team. In attendance were, Matthew Johnson, club coach Richard Guymer, George Leighton, Will Thomas, Andy Carroll, myself (Mark Walker), Richard Dean and Neil Dean.

 

Blocks of wood

The plan beforehand was to head up towards Huggate, Wetwang and onto Burton Fleming where Neil’s better half Mandy would be waiting for us.  My legs weren’t in the best shape having participated in another fantastic edition of Jim Sampson’s training rides the previous day, so I was a little circumspect of what the ride would have in store. My fears were only heightened when we climbed out of Skidby and up the drag to Little Weighton. The wind was blowing straight in our faces which didn’t help, but my legs felt somewhat reminiscent to two blocks of wood.

 

It wasn’t long before we were travelling north up towards Walkington. Matthew started to up the pace only for Rich, with his coaching hat on, to remind him of last week when he came a little unstuck a few miles from home. He eased off somewhat as a result. It was just drizzling a tad at this point but nothing to upset my mood too much. The same couldn’t be said for Andy unfortunately. He’s been fighting a cold for the past few weeks and with the weather been a bit drab it was perhaps inevitable that he would have to turn back. He stuck with us for a fair way up to Holme on the Wolds before he headed back home.

 

Huge pothole

Good timing in hindsight, as not long after heading in the opposite direction, into the wind again, where we encountered a couple of touring cyclists, who were also wrestling with the wind. This meant we had to take evasive action with Rich G, George and Rich D taking to the far right. What looked like a fairly innocuous little puddle, was in fact disguising a huge pothole underneath. Rich G hit it first and nearly went arse over heels, George then also hit it and at one point looked like he was about to nut Rich’s back wheel whilst it was in mid-air. Rich D also hit it but came away fairly unscathed. All the while Neil was ploughing on oblivious to what had happened. He hadn’t heard a thing with the wind howling as strong as it was.
On past Middleton, and over a huge puddle of water covering the width of the road, we headed up towards North Dalton. However, we had to stop for a bit as Rich G noticed his bike was feeling a little odd. His feeling was that something had happened to the headset, but under closer inspection it turned out to be a flat spot on the rim, which must have been causing all sorts of strange feeling under braking.

 

Suffering like dogs

We regrouped and set off with myself just a little ahead of the others. Will soon corrected that as he powered past me in his now familiar sprinting style. Will’s come on a bundle these past few weeks, particularly on the long runs, and he, along with one of the team’s other stars, Danny Posnett, had most of us suffering like dogs on the way home from the previous week’s ride. However, it was my turf coming up with the long climb out of Huggate. Sick of seeing his rear end for the past few weeks, I felt it was only right to restore my pride by at least dropping him up the hill. Slowly but surely he started to fade once the gradient steepened. My legs were burning with the headwind and yesterday’s ride but I had to save face, I couldn’t let him catch me back up I’d never forgive myself. Once at the top I turned round to see Will about a hundred metres behind. ‘I’m only 25 seconds behind’ he said, my response, particularly modest – NOT.  ‘Yeah, well, I wasn’t even trying!’ which was a complete lie, but I couldn’t help feel a little assured in myself nonetheless.

 

After a small wait for George and Matt, who was feeling a little weak in himself, we carried on.  Matt didn’t get much further unfortunately as he said he wasn’t feeling it. Probably because of yesterday’s ride, but also it might have had something to do with the fact that he was playing badminton and running on a treadmill the night before. I don’t know, kids nowadays think they can do everything. Anyway he would have still done about 50 miles or so, which wasn’t too bad in the circumstances.

 

Flat tyre

History was about to repeat itself for me though; as no sooner had Matt turned off, I felt a spongy feeling below me and it was becoming hard to pedal. I couldn’t blame the wind this time, as we were now heading east with a strong backwind behind us. Low and behold I had a flat tyre, although it was the front this time instead of the back from the previous report. I should by now be fairly good at punctures having also had one the previous day on the way to the training ride.

 

However, with the added pressure of six blokes looking on and trying to keep hold of my stuff from blowing away in the wind, I blew it.

 

‘Come on Mark, you should be an expert in puncture repairs now’, one said.

 

‘What an earth are you doing, have you not repaired a puncture before’ said another.

 

I assure you if I was on my own I’d have been OK. I eventually got the wheel repaired, with a little help and ‘gentle encouragement’. Again it was a tiny flint that had got through, about the size of a pin head, but it was enough to strike me down. I’ve come to the conclusion that I need some new tyres as three punctures in two weeks is more than a coincidence, and from inspecting the tyres you can see little cuts all the way along.

 

Life Hill

So once again we remounted and got going down the nice fast descent into Wetwang before the long drag known as Life Hill. The first part was perhaps the worst as it’s completely open leaving us susceptible to the crosswinds. I got to the top first with Neil and Will not far behind. Last up was George, who to be fair had stopped to take off his jacket or at least he had tried to, as he still had it on when he got to us with it blowing viciously in the wind – not ideal for aerodynamics.
After Life Hill we ended up at Sledmere before taking a left turn towards Weaverthorpe and Burton Fleming where we were going to be meeting Mandy at the café stop. With the strength of the wind increasing we didn’t go below 23 mph for the next 10 miles or so. George was starting to dangle off the back a little bit and was a bit like a little kid in the back of a car on a long journey. ‘How much further to go’ he repeated. For a young lad he’d done immensely well to get this far, especially with so little training behind him but you could almost see the hunger etched on his face. After pleading with him to stay tighter to the wheels in order to reap the rewards of drafting, we got to Burton Fleming altogether and headed to the café stop know as Aunt Ellie’s.

 

The wind and the distance

After a beautiful sausage, egg and chips lunch, at what is now my seond favourite café stop (after seaways at Fridaythorpe), we headed out of Burton Fleming and onto a stiff drag. Feeling a little bloated after my lunch, I wasn’t too pleased to encounter this climb, especially now that the wind was in our faces. We got over both the climb and our bloated feeling and headed to Kilham, which again was proceeded with a climb out of the village. In normal circumstances these little rises would feel like nothing but with the wind and now the distance, they were starting to feel like small mountains.

 

No sign of George

After Kilham, and the small village of Ruston Parva, we had took a right back towards Driffield onto the main road. We got up to Nafferton roundabout and headed into the village. We looked round and there was no sign of George. I turned back but I couldn’t see anyone up around the roundabout. Next thing I know my phone is ringing but I have the most stupid ringtone which only starts to make noise before it goes to voicemail (I really need to change it) so by the time I got to my phone the call had ended. It was George. So I rang back but no answer. We were starting to get a little worried, as there was still a way to go and he was starting to struggle. He eventually found us and I think he said he’d ended up at a nearby petrol station.
So again we remounted and got going. I was trying to perfect the art of no handed riding between Skerne and Hutton Cranswick but I couldn’t do it for more than about 5 seconds before veering right. Turned out my bearings in my headset were seizing up making me feel like I had a large 50 pence piece for a steerer. ‘Not to worry’ I thought, ‘I can still pedal OK’.

 

Starting to suffer again

After Hutton Cranswick the wind picked up again and a very ominous black cloud was heading our way. The wind was causing yet more problems, as George almost fell off when he clipped the back of Will’s wheel by trying to stay as tight to the wheels as possible. Onto the now smooth tarmac of Bracken Farm and George was starting to suffer again as it was completely open at this point. Will looked behind him but without realising got stuck in the gutter which caused him to veer a sharp left in to the rest of us. How no one fell off owed to Will’s good reactions and pure luck.
After a short stop for George to refuel, we headed south of Bracken Farm, passed Lund and onto the B1248 road into Beverley. Mandy turned off towards Etton having parked the car there whilst the rest of us carried on into Beverley. I was keen on getting the average up so I decided to hit the front and time trial my way into Beverley. Will and Rich G sprinted for the Molescroft sign with Will edging it.

 

Crawling speeds

Going around Molescroft roundabout and I thought I’d picked up another puncture but it was in fact my bearings that had got to the point where they were pretty much stuck pointing forwards making it a nightmare to turn. We were close enough to home though for me to be too concerned about it.  All that was left was for us to head out of Beverley, through Dunswell – were Neil and Rich D left us for home, and on towards Cottingham. The wind and fatigue were really taking its toll on us as we were almost reduced to crawling speeds at some points. However we made it which was a relief for all of us but in particular George, who had done immensely well to keep going having not trained a great deal beforehand.
All in all it left us with about 85 miles in the bag at an average of around 17mph and some stiff legs to boot. Some of us are off to Majorca next week, so hopefully we can leave the crap weather and puncture-friendly roads behind, at least for a week anyway.

 

Mark Walker
HTRC RR Secretary