FNRttC Night Ride Cardiff to Swansea Friday 18th September

[srw]

@StuAff and @Dogtrousers looked after the back of the ride admirably until FD got there, and continued to be invaluable in other ways thereafter. But yes, you are right. I'm relaxed about people riding ahead of me when they want to stretch their legs - especially on big hills where everyone needs to find a pace that suits them - as long as they are the sort of people who notice stuff. Looking over one's shoulder regularly and noticing that one is passing a possible turn-off is all that is required. And in the end my conscience is clear when it comes to people riding off the front. But risking losing people because of disappeared waymarkers won't do. But at least we didn't leave any behind - I got a bit obsessive about accounting for the ones we'd positioned on the route into Llantwit Major before setting off...

And very grateful I was for it, too. And I didn't mean to do down the contribution of Messrs Aff and Trousers.

 

[srw]

Incidentally, in looking up the etymology of the place-name Mumbles (however sceptical I was about the twin breasts - mamelles - being corrupted it does seem to be widely quoted, and is similar to other examples like Paps of Jura) I discovered that Mumbles Pier was the terminus of the world's first passenger railway. I'd guess the route roughly tracks the route of what is now the cycle path.

 

[mmmmartin]

I believe that glowsticks are quite good value.

Also walkie-talkies, which allow a full and frank discussion of the route between the man at the front who decides where to go, knows the route backwards and is making decisions based on traffic flow, strength of wind, group dynamics and bunching of 21 people riding across, for instance, the Netherlands, and the man at the back, who thinks he knows better but does not realise the man at the front has a GPS with routing set to "mountaineeering". This works very well, until the man at the front turns it off to get some well-deserved peace.

But a glowstick issued to the All-Upper would work well - a bit like the conch in Lord of the Flies.

 

[StuAff]

Also walkie-talkies, which allow a full and frank discussion of the route between the man at the front who decides where to go, knows the route backwards and is making decisions based on traffic flow, strength of wind, group dynamics and bunching of 21 people riding across, for instance, the Netherlands, and the man at the back, who thinks he knows better but does not realise the man at the front has a GPS with routing set to "mountaineeering". This works very well, until the man at the front turns it off to get some well-deserved peace.

But a glowstick issued to the All-Upper would work well - a bit like the conch in Lord of the Flies.

'Hinge calling Bracket, Hinge calling Bracket....'

 

[theclaud]

Incidentally, in looking up the etymology of the place-name Mumbles (however sceptical I was about the twin breasts - mamelles - being corrupted it does seem to be widely quoted, and is similar to other examples like Paps of Jura) I discovered that Mumbles Pier was the terminus of the world's first passenger railway. I'd guess the route roughly tracks the route of what is now the cycle path.

Yup. And not so much roughly as more-or-less-exactly, at least between Blackpill (the Junction cafe by the lido is the old station) and the pier. East of that it was closer to, and at the level of, the current road. The higher prom route follows the line of what was once the Central Wales Line, which ran from the current leisure centre (Swansea Victoria Station) via Blackpill up the Clyne Valley (now also a bike path), and eventually to Shrewsbury. http://www.digitaldesk.org/resources/mumblestrn/route/route.htm

 

[rvw]

Incidentally, in looking up the etymology of the place-name Mumbles...

Having checked, I'm disappointed not to find an alternative use of Mumbles in "The Meaning of Liff". I might suggest that it's actually a temporary and (usually) non-life-threatening affliction, suffered by cyclists, and caused by a combination of sleep deprivation and beer.

 

[StuAff]

Despite the learning opportunities (for my part, I did cry 'all up' a few times- but it was my job in the first part of the ride until Adam joined us, and after that I only called it when I knew he & Andrew were right behind me), this was an exceedingly fine job by @theclaud and @User482, definitely cause for praise not brickbats. Much praise.

As I wasn't riding west, First Great Western saw fit to remind me why that was my preferred option rather their unlovely (this is putting it mildly) Sprinter service to Cardiff. I'd have got wet a bit and there was a headwind, but all day on the bike was still the better option...There's bugger all legroom, it's noisy, crowded (three f***ing carriages and they must know there's the demand for more of them), seems to stop absolutely everywhere and move at the speed of a snail on valium, extra-strong valium at that. It pulled their usual trick of being increasingly late-running as it headed west yet remarkably managed to pull into Cardiff early. I call timetable shenanigans. Despite over three hours of that, my legs were thankfully still functional on arrival, and once I realised I'd gone out the station via the wrong exit for the Bay, progress to the Millennium Centre was rapid. Apart from a Porsche owners' gathering that was just ending, four or five cars of various vintage all that was left, the area was far quieter than I've seen it on previous visits. Perhaps everyone was saving themselves for the rugby...

I was the first of our number there, shortly thereafter joined by Jo, and not long after that by Claud, Steve and the first of the contingent from the east. Much carb-loading at Pizza Express followed. Steve tried out his Dellzeqqian eyebrow, needs a bit of work In view of the delayed London contingent, self and Andrew (@Dogtrousers) were appointed as tail-end team, and I stayed there pretty much all night (That Climb was a notable exception- I needed to press on a bit there rather than brake). Fortunately, the first part of the ride was quiet enough in terms of mechanicals- someone thought he'd dropped a coin and I think that was about it until the Tesco stop, where Adam joined us. Self and Andrew were principally employed in shining lights on the problems and contacting the leaders, roles which we were happy to fill. Nothing major in terms of mechanicals, thankfully- the longest problem was a puncture where the wheel went back on only to find the tyre wasn't on quite right. Most of the fairy victims were ready and able to sort out themselves out with only a little assistance. Once we pulled off from the A48 we were into 'that's lovely' territory, much of it familiar to me from the couple of previous editions I'd ridden. In view of the delays caused by the mechanicals, the tail-end took a shortcut bypassing Ogmore-By-Sea and heading on to Ogmore more directly. The Watermill pub (which seems to suffer from address envy, as it claims to be in Ogmore-by-Sea when it's two miles away...) did us very much proud. Ride leaders pulled an absolute blinder there. Some might have found an £8 flat rate charge a bit steep. I took the full value option, unsurprisingly. Excellent cakes, and sandwiches if anything even better (salt beef...!! ). I was forced to recheck my positive assessments several times.

Second half-and-a-bit was equally excellent. BTW, the pie shop in Port Talbot is Ron Evans on Commercial Road in Taibach, well-regarded apparently. Claud and Steve forgot the all-important jazz hands interlude overlooking the refinery…it was a bit dark though so probably not the best time for it. That Climb towards Neath- well, the second of the three ramps, I got up the other two- again defeated me, but then I wasn't the only one, anything but. That kick is very nasty indeed. Reminds me of Whitedown, in unpleasant ways. After some more uphills- and an emergency stop test when someone (Graham?) decided to cut across my path as I was kicking off- Bog Road. My desire to remodel it with the use of high explosives remains undiminished, but it wasn't that bad this time. In other words, I didn't end up in a hedge. The Trek was definitely the right option for this ride for handling that stretch alone (for the climbs, and the ride up had I done it, the Viner remains peerless). Disc brakes and 28mm tyres made that so much less perilous. I might even have enjoyed the view for a fraction of a second here and there…

And then down to the Kingdom of Swansea and the peachiness of the stretch around Mumbles Bay before we arrived at the pier. I did not, repeat, not go for the largest breakfast option (queue mass outbreak of fainting) but a reasonably large one, which was most excellent. As I was booked on the 1028 train, I did not join Team Beer and instead went straight back to the station. And (unlike 2013, when I, ahem, took a scenic route), it was straight back at reasonable pace and in plenty of time for the train. Engineering work helpfully between Romsey and Salisbury having removed the reverse cattle truck option, I had a booked train into Reading, from where I could get home via Basingstoke or Guildford. First option (Basingstoke, SWT) was SNAFUd by late arrival into Reading- ten minutes late, well done FGW- so via Guildford it was. And it was none other than the Train Company of the Antichrist providing said service, going on to Gatwick. Oh joy. Tiny train? Check. Overcrowded? Check. Ridiculous lack of legroom? Check. Loads of luggage in bike space? Check. Late into Guildford? Check. The only thing that bunch of twits achieve is taking our money. Thankfully, not late enough to prevent me making the next fast service south. Home at about a quarter to four, into the arms of Morpheus not long thereafter.

Thanks everyone. Fingers crossed for a dry day and night with an easterly wind for 2016. And if you're coming to Lancashire, see you then!

 

[Flying Dodo]

(Off topic for a moment, it always surprises me how the Scots, with whom we Anglo-Saxons share a language, a culture and an Enlightment are much stroppier about wanting independence than the Celtic Welsh.)

I imagine the extra 400 odd years of English hegemony might have something to do with dampening the Welsh enthusiasm!

 

[Dogtrousers]

Re etymology, the word "pill" (as in Blackpill) is an Old English word for a tidal inlet. There's a railway in Gloucestershire called"Bullo Pill".

 

[User482]

As someone once said, it’s not about the place, but the time. And so the horribly busy, polluted, snarling mess that was the A48 on my recce had turned into a civilised, swift and functional way of transporting us out of the city: one of the great pleasures on this ride is the speed with which we hit the rural lanes. Reunited with familiar faces waylaid by the vagaries of the rail network, we turned off the main road for my favourite section – Bonvilston to Llantwit Major – of narrow lanes, high hedgerows, swirling mist, clear night sky, and the impression that you’re going really effing fast at all of 15mph. Regrouping after Monknash, Team Fast somehow contrived to get to Ogmore behind Team Slow, where we were treated to tasty grub, proper china and the promised top-notch khazis. Onwards, and an increasing amount of work keeping the ride together meant most thought and effort going into propulsion and navigation. Col de Neath had the double sting I remembered but is fairly short, and Bog Road provided access to a stunning view as the sun rose: naysayers had the good sense to keep their thoughts to themselves and no-one fell off. The path round the bay to the pier seems undiminished by familiarity, but what a pity that it’s cut off from the city by the dual carriageway.

Recharged with a super breakfast outside in the sunshine, some reprobates enthusiastically rehydrated, and one may even have managed to miss not one but two trains home…

Anyway, I’m pretty certain that this is my favourite FNRttC, so a very big thank you to @dellzeqq and @theclaud for making it happen.

 

[GrumpyGregry]

There's lovely, isnit?
-and-
Lush.

Thanks oneandawl for the excellent prose. Maybe next year.

 

[Martin109]

Beccy's picture got a bit lost, hidden as it was in a link:

 

[Flying Dodo]

There comes a point when you're so late with a ride report that you realise you've bought yourself infinite time. It then becomes almost impossible to write anything. Without deadlines there's chaos.

Seeing as the next FNRttC is in just over a week's time, that's your deadline. HTH.