Vantage
Carbon fibre... LMAO!!!
- Location
- Behind everyone else, Bolton
...is over.
We set off from dad's house at 10am into fine wet as wet can be rain. The kind that could drown a fish.
The Spa Wayfarer true to form was handling like a drunk pig. As Tom Cruise said in Days of Thunder, "Her ass is all over the place".
First chance I get I'm replacing this pile of crap and will never buy another spa frame again.
As we rolled into Betwys-y-coed the rain eased off and we put the raincoats away. Rolling along in t-shirts was nice.
We weren't long out of Betwys before hitting some steep climbs. They were no match for the almighty ebikes. Cruising up like we were on level roads. Easy peasy. One in particular wasn't so easy peasy. Dad got up with a ridiculous amount of effort. I didn't have it so easy. As anyone with a gear shift sensor knows, you move the shifter and the motor cuts power whilst the chain moves across the sprockets to save them being chewed up. I've still not gotten used to all forward momentum ceasing when this happens.
I saw the hill and decided that changing to my lowest gear whilst on a corner and going up the grade would be no problem. Bike on its side. Bill in the bushes. Get back on the bike and try again. Fall off again. Thinking cap on and using the throttle to get me moving was the answer. No it wasn't. The bike pulled a wheelie and I ended up on my arse again. I may have used some colourful language at this point. All this plus trying to stop the bike rolling back down the hill which wasn't easy either. Finally I got moving having pointed the bike diagonally and using the throttle whilst holding on for dear life and pedalling as hard as I could. The display showed the motor going north of 650w and the battery using near every volt it had on the way up. I didn't fare any better. When I reached the top dad said that climb was a bi***. He wasn't wrong. I was breathing too hard to answer and slumped over the bike for a few minutes trying not to puke up.
We hadn't gone more than a few miles further when dad and an oncoming driver on a blind corner near had a head on. Both locked their brakes momentarily.
A few more miles of up and down and round and round on single lane roads and all was going well.
When we rolled into Chapel Curig the rain was upon us again and we were about to do some offroading. Not that girly gravel riding the newbies do. Offroading. Wot real men do.
Not 5 minutes on the trail and dad's left front pannier took flight.
Slow and steady was my advice to him.
We took it in turns to lead at the front and holding the numerous gates open for each other when I reached one and dad was nowhere to be seen. I waited and finally saw a small figure riding towards me.
He'd lost grip and went head first into the ditch. I laughed.
We walked for a bit as dad was shaken slightly and not long after karma got me for laughing at his misfortune. Dad was holding a gate for me and as I pushed the bike through the back of it started to lean while the front started to rise. The top tube had pushed against the back of my knees and it was as if the gods of cycling were forcing me to kneel before them. Dad grabbed the bike and rescued me from my impending doom.
Lots of slipping, sliding and bumping later we were back onto single lanes. 45mph was reached with me shouting "WOOHOO!" on the corners
By now my back brake was near useless for some reason (I'll be checking that later) and dad's brakes had all but disintegrated.
The A5 spoiled things in a big way. Dad hates these roads as we all do and wasn't keen on it. There was no alternative.
He took the front as his lights weren't working and mine were.
After a while dad tried to mount the pavement and all hell broke loose. He'd hit the kerb at too shallow an angle and the front wheel washed out. Dad went down like a ton of bricks with mud flying through the air and dad going head first into a wooden telephone pole at around 10mph. He lay there motionless for a few seconds till I'd managed to stop. As I was dragging the bike off him a highway maintenance pickup had seen the carnage and stopped to give first aid. The guys had bandaged his hand as best they could and made sure he was ok before leaving. There's still some damn nice people in the world.
If it had been me, I'd have thrown in the towel there and then, but not dad. He's made of sterner stuff and decided to carry on to the campsite. We'd walked a while first till he felt ok to ride.
A few missed turns and we finally rolled into the site around 3pm soaking wet and cold. Tents were pitched and dad went off to the showers to check the damage. Not long after dad came back. It wasn't good news.
His left arm needed stitches.
The tour was cancelled at that point and he was picked up by step mum. I decided to wait for my partner so he could get to hospital and I was home by 10pm.
A CT scan has shown no worries but his helmet is a mess and the doc has said the usual "That helmet saved your life etc etc". 3 stitches in his arm and he didn't get home till 5am today.
Just glad he's still here. Can't lose my dad this early.
If we can leave the usual helmet comments for the helmet thread I'd appreciate it.
Dad has said that he'll not be bike touring again as he's to old for that malarky. Can't say I blame him.
As to future tours I'm uncertain. I could have carried on myself on this one but I'm a scaredy cat and worry about touring on my own but at the same time, I'm a rather unsociable bugger.
Thanks for reading.
We set off from dad's house at 10am into fine wet as wet can be rain. The kind that could drown a fish.
The Spa Wayfarer true to form was handling like a drunk pig. As Tom Cruise said in Days of Thunder, "Her ass is all over the place".
First chance I get I'm replacing this pile of crap and will never buy another spa frame again.
As we rolled into Betwys-y-coed the rain eased off and we put the raincoats away. Rolling along in t-shirts was nice.
We weren't long out of Betwys before hitting some steep climbs. They were no match for the almighty ebikes. Cruising up like we were on level roads. Easy peasy. One in particular wasn't so easy peasy. Dad got up with a ridiculous amount of effort. I didn't have it so easy. As anyone with a gear shift sensor knows, you move the shifter and the motor cuts power whilst the chain moves across the sprockets to save them being chewed up. I've still not gotten used to all forward momentum ceasing when this happens.
I saw the hill and decided that changing to my lowest gear whilst on a corner and going up the grade would be no problem. Bike on its side. Bill in the bushes. Get back on the bike and try again. Fall off again. Thinking cap on and using the throttle to get me moving was the answer. No it wasn't. The bike pulled a wheelie and I ended up on my arse again. I may have used some colourful language at this point. All this plus trying to stop the bike rolling back down the hill which wasn't easy either. Finally I got moving having pointed the bike diagonally and using the throttle whilst holding on for dear life and pedalling as hard as I could. The display showed the motor going north of 650w and the battery using near every volt it had on the way up. I didn't fare any better. When I reached the top dad said that climb was a bi***. He wasn't wrong. I was breathing too hard to answer and slumped over the bike for a few minutes trying not to puke up.
We hadn't gone more than a few miles further when dad and an oncoming driver on a blind corner near had a head on. Both locked their brakes momentarily.
A few more miles of up and down and round and round on single lane roads and all was going well.
When we rolled into Chapel Curig the rain was upon us again and we were about to do some offroading. Not that girly gravel riding the newbies do. Offroading. Wot real men do.
Not 5 minutes on the trail and dad's left front pannier took flight.
Slow and steady was my advice to him.
We took it in turns to lead at the front and holding the numerous gates open for each other when I reached one and dad was nowhere to be seen. I waited and finally saw a small figure riding towards me.
He'd lost grip and went head first into the ditch. I laughed.
We walked for a bit as dad was shaken slightly and not long after karma got me for laughing at his misfortune. Dad was holding a gate for me and as I pushed the bike through the back of it started to lean while the front started to rise. The top tube had pushed against the back of my knees and it was as if the gods of cycling were forcing me to kneel before them. Dad grabbed the bike and rescued me from my impending doom.
Lots of slipping, sliding and bumping later we were back onto single lanes. 45mph was reached with me shouting "WOOHOO!" on the corners
By now my back brake was near useless for some reason (I'll be checking that later) and dad's brakes had all but disintegrated.The A5 spoiled things in a big way. Dad hates these roads as we all do and wasn't keen on it. There was no alternative.
He took the front as his lights weren't working and mine were.
After a while dad tried to mount the pavement and all hell broke loose. He'd hit the kerb at too shallow an angle and the front wheel washed out. Dad went down like a ton of bricks with mud flying through the air and dad going head first into a wooden telephone pole at around 10mph. He lay there motionless for a few seconds till I'd managed to stop. As I was dragging the bike off him a highway maintenance pickup had seen the carnage and stopped to give first aid. The guys had bandaged his hand as best they could and made sure he was ok before leaving. There's still some damn nice people in the world.
If it had been me, I'd have thrown in the towel there and then, but not dad. He's made of sterner stuff and decided to carry on to the campsite. We'd walked a while first till he felt ok to ride.
A few missed turns and we finally rolled into the site around 3pm soaking wet and cold. Tents were pitched and dad went off to the showers to check the damage. Not long after dad came back. It wasn't good news.
His left arm needed stitches.
The tour was cancelled at that point and he was picked up by step mum. I decided to wait for my partner so he could get to hospital and I was home by 10pm.
A CT scan has shown no worries but his helmet is a mess and the doc has said the usual "That helmet saved your life etc etc". 3 stitches in his arm and he didn't get home till 5am today.
Just glad he's still here. Can't lose my dad this early.
If we can leave the usual helmet comments for the helmet thread I'd appreciate it.
Dad has said that he'll not be bike touring again as he's to old for that malarky. Can't say I blame him.
As to future tours I'm uncertain. I could have carried on myself on this one but I'm a scaredy cat and worry about touring on my own but at the same time, I'm a rather unsociable bugger.
Thanks for reading.
