March 2002
March 2002
MESSAGE FROM IAN
I would like to thank everyone for their messages of support during my recent scare! I’m back on the road to recovery now, even if it isn’t on the bike, and if things go according to plan you can read all about my ordeal in the cycling press soon. Meanwhile, if anyone would like to know more about skin cancer, please don’t be afraid to ask. I want to do all I can to prevent others going through the same thing.
Ian Boult.
THE LIVERPOOL 10
The inaugural BNE ‘Liverpool 10’ was run off in ideal weather: it had been throwing it down all day and blowing a gale. This meant that no one was looking forward to riding the following day! I should explain that this was not your normal ‘10’. The objective here was to visit 10 pubs in Liverpool, with a drink in each one. Or just have 10 drinks - we weren’t going to be picky! These didn’t have to be alcoholic, but it would be a brave guy who ordered the first Cherryade.
The event pushed off in Yates’, and the field (appropriately enough) numbered ten: Mike Garner, Chris Quinn, Dave Newby, Phil Gregory, Pete and Chris Byrne, Dave Parry and his mate Nick, Les Kennedy and Ruaraidh Gillies. Mr. Parry was wearing his white suit (as seen on Sonny Crockett,) and so was easy to spot.
The route sadly had not been approved by the R.T.T.C and no course measurement had been taken. Probably just as well as it would have been hard to factor in the amount of beer-induced wobble after the later pubs. We rolled out of Yates’s and into The Rat and Parrot, losing 2 of our number straight away so pretty much like any club run!
Entering our third bar - Edwards – we were reunited. Much hugging and kissing did not follow, and I will sue anyone who says otherwise. The climbers came to the fore now and were rewarded with prime sites on the upstairs balcony here. The view from 20feet was stunning, and it was difficult to tear us away, but we did and headed up to the Revolution. The speed was cranked up now, as we had a couple of weird-flavoured vodkas as well as the statutory bottle of beer. No Isostar! This now made 7 drinks in 4 bars.
One of the eagerly anticipated highlights of the evening was to have been watching Phil Gregory displaying his legendary chat up skills. Readers may remember the story of how he got the phone number of the girl in the Ponderosa café. Unfortunately, he is currently out of action in that field - he’s now got a girlfriend! (And his feeding strategy of pints rather than the smaller bottles did impair his ability to speak by the end of the night too) However, Chris Byrne more than made up for this as there can now be few girls in Liverpool that he didn’t chat to at some point! (Jealous moi? Noooooo !) Fortunately for the girls concerned, Chris drew a blank!
From the Revolution we headed down to Labinsky’s, and onto the old favourite Flanagan’s. We were only at six bars but after Flanagan’s there was only one more drink required. That was achieved when we went into Rubber Soul, and for good measure we had another in Havana (apparently it is a bar, and not the place in Cuba – although that might have explained the high Taxi bill). After that bunch started to get strung out – and going their separate ways (or maybe just falling asleep in gutters – not too sure on that).
All in all a good night out - if the demand is there, we could have a summer event so we can leave our overshoes, gloves and thermal hats at home. Aaah - is that why we were getting those funny looks?
Les
COMPU TESTING
I went up to Preston arena a couple of weeks ago to see how a Compu Trainer works with the NW Coaching Group. Unlike a Cateye the Compu Trainer slowly increases the load automatically and you have to gradually increase your effort to maintain a decent cadence in a set gear in order to keep pace with the machine.
The max testing is supposedly pretty accurate, and the computer holds details of dozens of courses in its memory so that you could for example re-live the Alpe d'Huez or do a world championship time trial course, all with video effects.
Anyway, the coach, Ivor Armstrong is willing to come down to test 4 people over a 2-hour period but will want some travelling expenses (Between £5 & £10 I guess. Two members have expressed interest so far, it is first come first served, so mail me back ASAP if interested.
Geoff
Email: geoffbrandt@templemore.fsbusiness.co.uk
STEWARDING ROTA 2002
A reminder to all that the stewarding rota has now been finalised, and is available from the Events page. Please check to see what you're down for, if you don't already know.
LAST TRACK SESSION
The last track session of the winter is on 21st March, 8pm at Manchester Velodrome Hire your bike in advance on 0161 223 2244.
The following article was sent to us by Cliff Dutton, a friend of Mel Vasey's who's attended the last two club weekends. He wrote this article for the "West Vets" magazine. Thanks Cliff!
Never go back they say, but are they right? I’ve never managed to suss it out to my entire satisfaction. It is not the same as ‘Get out and never come back’. That is something else entirely.
When you ‘go back’ it is ostensibly to relive old times and the fear is that it never lives up to expectations and you come away with all your memories hanging in tatters.
Over the last few years I have been privileged to have been invited along on the Birkenhead North End weekend.
This involves a trip back up to the ‘Pool’ and my old mate ‘Scouse Mel’.
Last year (2000) was a disaster for me as I was not at full fitness, carrying an injury and, just to shoot myself in the foot completely, I left my road bike at home and rode a borrowed MTB wearing borrowed shoes.
We rode into the Lledre Valley, about 75 miles, during the worst weekend of what was a very bad year. Needless to say, they ripped my legs off. I cannot remember being so embarrassed about my ‘on bike’ performance for years. Pain aside, it was a belting weekend. They are a smashing bunch of lads with that special northern humour.
In the pub on the Saturday night, one of the lads, Roly, arrived late, divested himself of his outer layer, had a quick pint and then went to find the loos. Whilst he was away, I stole his sweater and put it on.
Roly returned and drank another half. Then it was time to return to the digs.
First he looked under the benches, then behind the chairs. "Has anyone seen my sweater?" he asked.
We all stopped and ‘helped’ him look for it with me shadowing him the whole time, holding up chairs while he looked, and him holding up chairs while I looked.
The rest of the gang were nearly wetting themselves trying to stifle beer fuelled giggles.
"What does it look like Roll?" I casually enquired.
"A bit like yours … but a bit darker" he said.
It was instant detonation for the others, and then the penny dropped.
The following year and foolishly they had invited me along again.
It was the usual starting place, ‘The Eureka Café’ to the rest of the country or simply ‘The Mills’ if you are local.
One of the nicest parts of these weekends for me is the breakfast pint of tea, toast and honey and friends that I see so rarely saying "Good morning Smiler, how have you been?" and shaking my hand.
Except for Roly that was, who appeared with an enormous grin, shook my hand and then told me to stay the hell away from his kit!
Then it was off to Ironbridge.
These lads don’t take prisoners and it was a little bit rapid to say the least. With thirty riders and narrow muddy lanes it was only a matter of time before there was a mishap.
A slight down hill, a pothole, a sharp left hand bend, an over exuberant bunch of riders and the ubiquitous white van was the perfect recipe for disaster. Looking back now, it was a miracle that we only lost two riders.
Hilly? This route made the Cotswolds look positively flat. At the top of one climb was a T junction. One lad was unsure whether to turn left or right and tried to get off his bike. It simply just lifted the front wheel and then tried to somersault its way back down the hill, now that was steep!
The YHA that we stayed in was on the banks of the River Severn at Coalport, just outside of Ironbridge, in a converted china factory and it was brilliant…and not too far from the pub.
Yes. We all overindulged and Melvin did his karaoke bit … for about three hours.
In one corner of the pub was a bar billiards table and this was pilled high with all of our coats.
The place was packed, mostly with us, so when Roly needed the loo, he came across to the billiard table and made a great show of collecting all of his clothing together and taking it to the loo with him to the strains of "You wont get me this time you bugger".
As I said, the place was packed and consequently seating was at a premium. As soon as Roly had vanished into the loo, his stool was removed, hidden under the pile of remaining clothes, and was substituted with one of the small white mushroom devices from the billiards table.
Roly came out, the pub erupted … and Melvin stopped singing. Priceless.
The following morning was very quiet with hangovers in abundance. Due to a strange and very fortunate quirk of nature, I have never suffered from a hangover but poor old Melvin seemed to be suffering for both of us.
Fed and watered we got onto the bikes and headed out of Coalport and along theB4373 into the outskirts of Ironbridge. At the first island that you meet heading north there is a small right turn called Church Road and it goes up for ever. About two thirds of the way up Melvin lost both his breakfast and the will to live.
Cries of ‘You’re lighter now so should be able to climb a bit better’ did not seem to help.
By the time we had done Much Wenlock and The Wrekin he was feeling much better, even good enough to have lunch at Prees Heath and by the time we had got back to the Mills we where both ready for beans, a spare and the obligatory pint of tea.
Thanks must go to Melvin for organising the whole affair, Harry, Jack and Steve for the motorised back-up and Dave Russell for planning such an arduous route. When a sign post says five miles to Ironbridge and he informs you that there is at least twenty miles still to go and they contain a 23% climb you realise what a sadist he can be.
The best verbals of the weekend came from Keith Boardman who was heard to cry out "Slow down a bit, this bike isn’t very fit"
Will I go back again next year? I bloody well hope so!
Cliff Dutton
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