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Monthly Archives: September 2009
Posted by admin on September 25, 2009 – 10:32 pm
A serialisation by arallsopp (starts here)
— Buy the book here —
Sunday 2311hrs: On through the night
Right. Next up, Washingborough. Set the GPS, get a lock, and go. Lound, Edenham, Elsthorpe, Bulby, flat lands stretch out infront. Steadily northwards. Kirkby Underwood, Aslackby, Sleaford. Long straight roads. Never realized there was so much countryside left.
Navigating on an Audax is an odd experience. In many ways, you’re utterly integrated into the environment. Its dark. You’re dark. It rains. You get wet. Birds call as you approach. Rabbits scurry in your wake. There’s nothing between you and them. ‘Them’ is grass, animals, families, trees, clouds, gravel, hedges, white lines, tarmac. Its immersive, more like swimming through a photoalbum than siting atop a bike. In another part of your head, your brain is actively stripping all this redundant data away, to better compress the journey into a handful of turn instructions. If you’re the kind that panics about missing turnings (I am) you come to appreciate those that offer additional information. L is tough. L:T (T being T-Junction) will resolve itself when you run out of road. L:TL (traffic lights) you’ll even see coming.
Somewhere the wrong side of 1 AM, I’ve just left the village of Ruskington behind me, and the next instruction (R:TL) isn’t for 12 miles. Digby, or Branston, perhaps. The rain has let up. The road is straight and flat. I’m not likely to miss a set of traffic lights, so this is a good chance to get some real speed underway. The tarmac resolves to a low hum, cranks spin, the wind drowns the complaints from my rattling chain. After what seems like a few minutes, I can already pull out the red filters on the junction ahead. Making good progress. 10 minutes later and I’m seemingly no closer. Through Digby, but the red lights are still way up the road. I’m more tired than I thought. Can’t seem to close the gap. 20 minutes later, and I see both lights suddenly swing right. A moment of revelation. Cyclists!
I’ve found the back of the pack. Minutes later, I roll into the Washingborough checkpoint. There’s a tech on the gate, and he’s got a bag of zipties.
“I read your post!”
Posted by admin on September 24, 2009 – 6:34 pm
A serialisation by arallsopp (starts here)
— Buy the book here —
Sunday 2244hrs: Miles ridden 88. Miles walked 6. Arrive Thurlby Primary School
“Howdo. Sorry I’m late. Are you still open”
“Oh yes. We’re not shutting for a good few hours yet. 544 right? You’re the last in. Give us your brevet card and I’ll get you stamped.”
“Stamped? I thought the last stamp was half eight.”
“It is, if you set off at 8am.”
“….”
Big smiles. Note to self. Remember brain stops working when sugar is low. Ok. I have almost 4 hours in the bag. This is far from the plan, but its workable. I’m very wet. I’m very hungry. I’m going to lose a lot of speed once the going gets hilly, so its imperative that I don’t give back any of the spare I’ve just bagged. I’m figuring its flat(ish) from here to Middleton Tyas, but then I’ve got a very nasty 6 in a row of Alston, Eskdalemuir, Dalkeith, Eskdalemuir and Alston again. That’s Cumbria, Northumberland, Scottish Borders, Midlothian and back, and is going to cost me considerably. Must not stop here any longer than necessary.
Right. Grab a warm drink and a plate of food. Thaw out the brain, then set off. ASAP.
This works. The volunteers manning the control are excellent, service is top notch (well, I am pretty much the only rider there), and I’m even beginning to dry out. 14 mins after arriving, I’m feeling human, am back out the door, am looking for my bike.
An entirely unexpected tech interrupts my search to say “I’ve fixed her up as best as I can. Bunged a new tie around the axle. Couldn’t find a jockey wheel or replacement part, so I’ve fashioned this, out of a cleat back.” Under torchlight, I see the old spindle, now cased in fresh zipties, with a suitably low tech protuberance bolted onto the side. The chain sits snuggly on the ball race, with the frame blocking its exit left, and the cleat back right. Blimey. Its ugly. But it holds.
We spend 10 mins refining the positioning, and as the food kicks in I suddenly feel full of confidence. The road onward is dark and remote, but the next check point is only 40 odd miles North of here. I can be there by 2am. In a tradition continued by volunteers at every control from here on in, he gives me a bag of ties and waves me on.
… continued here.
Posted by admin on September 20, 2009 – 10:51 am
A serialisation by arallsopp (starts here)
Sunday 2200hrs: Miles ridden 79. Miles walked 6. Stolen materials.
Ok. My apologies to the owner of the lost cat in Upton. Your sign may not be as neatly retained as it once was.
On the plus side, I’m now rolling again. Ran out of zipties about 8 instructions back. Its raining. Deep suspicion that I’ve managed to miss the optional stop at Gamlingay, and now fair worried that I’ll be out of time for the next one. I daren’t look at the clock. Sun is down. Can’t be more than 10 miles from here to the checkpoint. Maybe I’m still in the game. Come on baby, hold together…
The ground has leveled out now. 6 hours in the rain hasn’t dampened my spirits (yet). My dynamo lights were less interested by a pedestrian pace, so the new tie is very welcome. Walking darkened lanes has given me plenty of time to mentally review the task in hand.
From my office prep when the year was young, I’m pretty sure Thurlby closes at 20:35hrs. I guess I set off a little late, but I’m not sure this is going to wash with the officials. Thurlby is an official check point, so if I don’t show my face there before the cut, I get a DNF. Until I ran out of ties, I was doing 20mph sprints for 5 mile blocks. I daren’t push too hard on the last tie.
Its been dark for a while. An oncoming estate car flashes its lights as it passes me, swings round in my rear view mirror, pulls alongside momentarily, then sits infront at 17mph. The cat’s owner? Damn. This bike is conspicuous.
No.
Worse.
The sag wagon.
Not now. Surely. I was almost there.
Well I’m not stopping without hitting at least one control, even if it’s closed. Exhausted, I follow it. 2 miles later, red tail lights turn off the main road, down a high street, into a side lane, onto a car park. Looks like this is where it ends.
… continued here.
Posted by admin on September 17, 2009 – 11:51 pm
A serialisation by arallsopp (starts here)
— Buy the book here —
Sunday 1522hrs: Miles ridden 9.5. Walking to the station.
Ok. Well I seem to be in Hertford. That sounds like it’ll have a station. Wonder what their Sunday service is like. Best go find out. GPS guides me to station road. I sit kerbside, and post an update to various forums. Buzz! Goes the blackberry. A reply has been posted to a topic you are watching… the text of the reply is shown below.
“If you have some big zip ties [I ask tentatively!] you might be able to bodge a workaround – just make a loop for the chain to pass through. Might be a bit noisy, and you might have to replace the ties every now and then, but it could get you on your way.”
No. That won’t work. Will it? I’ve got 10 in my bag. Worth a punt. 9 yards later SCHLLINNNK BANG. Ok. No. Hmmm.. Cut it loose. Try again. One zip tie over the spindle. Another zip tie around the frame. Back pedal. Hideous noise. Lift the rear and try forwards. Seems to work. Catches on the power links, but otherwise good. Retrace my steps. Get back to the route. Check the ties. Hmmm. Chain is slowly sawing through. Hope to hell there’s someone who’s set off behind me, who happens to have more zipties. Ties in the bag: 7.
… continued here.
Posted by admin on September 16, 2009 – 9:56 pm
A serialisation by arallsopp (starts here)
— Buy the book here —
Sunday 1445hrs: Miles ridden: 0. Your time starts NOW.
OK. Off the line. LongHairedScouser in tow, GPS working lovely, few too many speedhumps for my choice of route, but its drawing me out of town and towards Edinburgh. Suburbia drops somewhere behind us, and the countryside steps in to welcome us aboard. Everytime I glimpse at the GPS, I see we’re moving at 16+mph. The sun is shining. This is good. LongHairedScouser and I are in pleasant conversation about navigation (he admits to being utterly lost already, and is happy / requiring to follow me and the GPS to the first control).
Now, a quick word about recumbents. They’re very comfortable. They can be very fast. They *all* have issues with chain management. In the RWD Furai, this role is supplied by a set of jockey wheels routing the chain line up and down, following the frame. One in particular (the foremost return idler) has the delightful job of keeping the chain out of the front wheel.
So, 9.4 miles in, and my eye catches a wobble in the guide fixed to the foremost return idler. I can stop and sort that. Tiny bit of plastic. Probably just worked loose.
PING! Sh1t! Its come off.
CRACK!! …and gone straight under a car. That’s bad. Ok jockey wheel still there. Never seen the chain mount the guide. Probably just there for aesthetics. Still, let’s stop and check.
PING!
Sh1t. That was a retaining guide then. Jockey wheel gone now. Doing 20mph. Best throw on the anchors.
SCHLLINGGG!
Cr@p! chain is in the front wheel. Can’t steer. Can’t pedal. Unclip. Get ready for crash landing.
SKKKCRRRANK!
[Chain catches spoke and brings rider and bent to a very rapid halt].
Stop. Breathe. Relax. Ok. You’re alive. That was bad. Am I in traffic? No. Ok. Good. Where’s my longhairedscouser? Up ahead. Looping back. Ok. Good. Let’s check bike over. Hmmm.. In place of jockey wheel and two retaining guides, I seem to have a bare spindle. Damn. Can I balance the chain on it?
No.
Damn. Try again. Damn. No. Ok. Can I fix this? Erm. No.
10 minutes pass, whilst the longhairedscouser and I try to work out where on the route sheet we actually are. I momentarily consider loaning him my GPS, as it looks like I’m out of the running. Damn. On second thoughts, I’ll need it to find a station. Sh1t. Not happy. Best ring wife and buddy. See if anyone is still in the area, or whether I’m lugging this thing back on the trains.
… continued here.
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