clarion
Guru
- Location
- Exiled from Hyperborea
Glad you had a good ride.
FNRttC Cardiff to Swansea - 6th July 2012
- Thread starter dellzeqq
- Start date
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martint235
Dog on a bike
- Location
- Welling
It must have been wet for mudguards to have been allowed!!! 
SaLQ83
Active Member
No worries. You were fine. To be honest we were feeling the same after the "lovely" head wind to the station. But hope you feel better see you at the next ride.
Mice
Guru
There is something about leaving London by train to start an FNRttC in another City. Somehow it is even more of an adventure and this time we were heading to TCs manor. Excellent! Tickets booked months ago, last minute questions about what to wear, what's the weather going to do, what does the DZ cat predict? Weatherspark is a new acquisition to my bookmarks and it said not too cold or, err wet.
Sahar and George concurred the same so with minimal wardrobe I headed to Paddington where I found a bear, Eddie (!) (sic), DZ and Susie. Bikes on board, we took our seats and headed West.
Two hours later we arrived in Cardiff and it was raining. Raining. We made our way to Pizza Express to join several others - TECCharlie, Stuaff, GregColllins to name a few. Over the next hour, the group grew and grew, Georgios and Sahar arrived on fine form and we made our way to the Millennium Centre for the rest of the hellos, Bungalicious and Bungano-no's from DZ. We were all getting wet. It was cold.
On the stroke of midnight, the power of TC came to the fore and the rain stopped. Just like that. We headed out of Cardiff, slightly inebriated pedestrians imitating the call of eeeezeeeeeee, asking us where were going, cheering us on "pedal 'arder, they're catching you up" kind of thing. We made our way to Tescos for a splash and dash, then out into the countryside.
The sky was cloudy, the roads were wet and it was cold. We didn't go to Barry (why would we? had already been inferred) and we weaved our way up and down gentle country lanes. At one stage the road was not much wider than an electric car, with high hedgerows, smooth tarmac and shimmering bicycle lights. It reminded me of Lonesome Lane. Some of us had mud(!£!"£!_) and some didnt.....!
The chit chat was to the FNRttC standard. Friendly, fun and actually really funny. The team of TECs and Wayfarers flew by - goodness knows how many extra miles they ride. GregColllins confirmed that he had not cleaned his bike since LonJog ("Why would I do that? It would just be getting dirtier again" I thought of Ianrauk and knew that my bike cleaning of yesterday was the right thing for my bike!
We headed along the coast, the route was just lovely. True FNRttC style. We went over a Cattle Grrrrrrrrrriiiiiiid. Immediately afterwards was a display of startled sheep. Everywhere. No Highway Code - they just ran across us, behind us, around us, scattering and baaring all the way (baaring mechanicals?) The road dropping down to the sea. It was one of my most favourites lanes ever ridden on an FNRttC.
Not long afterwards we reached Stopsies. Super Stopsies. 3am, two marvellous people making pots of tea like there was no tomorrow. Sandwiches and Welsh Cakes too. Fabulous attitude, nothing was too much trouble and they are right up there in the Stock and DeckerTim standards of Stopsies. How DZ find these peeps I have no idea.
A puncture was repaired, we were back out on the road. It was cold. I was too cold so threw myself up the next hill at the front to try and warm up. Spinning a la ttcycle style all the way. There was another puncture, the sun started throwing its light across the horizon and we could see Port Talbot. There was a discussion at the top of a hill about further hills. A lesson learned that not everyone who says there are no more hills is telling the truth.
I was a bit shattered having been up since 5.30am on Friday morning and would have happily stayed at sea level. But no, we were off again around Neath. Up, up up. Spin, check the gears being used, granny ring when needed and just keep the pedals moving. Thank you ttcycle, you have no idea how this has transformed my FNRttCs. As we regrouped - I saw something I wasnt expecting. A view. An absolutely fantastic view. I was hooked. On we went, up, down, along roads of puddles, some 45mm deep. And more views across to Port Talbot, inland and down to Swansea. Breathtaking.
The route from Swansea to Mumbles was tough - the wind was strong. But worth it. We piled into the cafe, fabulous breakfasts all round. A presentation by Sahar to DZ on behalf of the Fridays - DZs broken derailleur mounted as a trophy as a reminder and thank you from the Fridays for LonJog 2012.
Up another hill (shocked the scrambled eggs I had eaten) to beersies. Our numbers decreased one by one until Gordon, Graham, McWobble and I headed to the 2.30pm train home. Excellent company - big thanks to you all.
As for the FNRttC -Thank you DZ and Susie. Thank you TC - we know about hills now...! I took some pics. I now know why you dont notice hills. You are surrounded by them although that's not necessarily a good enough reason to deny they exist....!!! But I really like your manor. What a place in which to live. User1314 - we need to invite ourselves over for a day ride if we can (and Leoqueen 1982 + G!)
I took some pics.
https://picasaweb.google.com/108733...&authkey=Gv1sRgCI2r5qP5jJSGPg&feat=directlink
M
PS I hope this isnt boring to read. Maybe I should have slept first. At least the pics capture a bit of how it was. To put it succinctly - it was ruddy fantastic and I count my lucky Red FNRttC Stars to be part of these rides. Thank you, peeps. Truly.
Sahar and George concurred the same so with minimal wardrobe I headed to Paddington where I found a bear, Eddie (!) (sic), DZ and Susie. Bikes on board, we took our seats and headed West.
Two hours later we arrived in Cardiff and it was raining. Raining. We made our way to Pizza Express to join several others - TECCharlie, Stuaff, GregColllins to name a few. Over the next hour, the group grew and grew, Georgios and Sahar arrived on fine form and we made our way to the Millennium Centre for the rest of the hellos, Bungalicious and Bungano-no's from DZ. We were all getting wet. It was cold.
On the stroke of midnight, the power of TC came to the fore and the rain stopped. Just like that. We headed out of Cardiff, slightly inebriated pedestrians imitating the call of eeeezeeeeeee, asking us where were going, cheering us on "pedal 'arder, they're catching you up" kind of thing. We made our way to Tescos for a splash and dash, then out into the countryside.
The sky was cloudy, the roads were wet and it was cold. We didn't go to Barry (why would we? had already been inferred) and we weaved our way up and down gentle country lanes. At one stage the road was not much wider than an electric car, with high hedgerows, smooth tarmac and shimmering bicycle lights. It reminded me of Lonesome Lane. Some of us had mud(!£!"£!_) and some didnt.....!
The chit chat was to the FNRttC standard. Friendly, fun and actually really funny. The team of TECs and Wayfarers flew by - goodness knows how many extra miles they ride. GregColllins confirmed that he had not cleaned his bike since LonJog ("Why would I do that? It would just be getting dirtier again" I thought of Ianrauk and knew that my bike cleaning of yesterday was the right thing for my bike!
We headed along the coast, the route was just lovely. True FNRttC style. We went over a Cattle Grrrrrrrrrriiiiiiid. Immediately afterwards was a display of startled sheep. Everywhere. No Highway Code - they just ran across us, behind us, around us, scattering and baaring all the way (baaring mechanicals?) The road dropping down to the sea. It was one of my most favourites lanes ever ridden on an FNRttC.
Not long afterwards we reached Stopsies. Super Stopsies. 3am, two marvellous people making pots of tea like there was no tomorrow. Sandwiches and Welsh Cakes too. Fabulous attitude, nothing was too much trouble and they are right up there in the Stock and DeckerTim standards of Stopsies. How DZ find these peeps I have no idea.
A puncture was repaired, we were back out on the road. It was cold. I was too cold so threw myself up the next hill at the front to try and warm up. Spinning a la ttcycle style all the way. There was another puncture, the sun started throwing its light across the horizon and we could see Port Talbot. There was a discussion at the top of a hill about further hills. A lesson learned that not everyone who says there are no more hills is telling the truth.
I was a bit shattered having been up since 5.30am on Friday morning and would have happily stayed at sea level. But no, we were off again around Neath. Up, up up. Spin, check the gears being used, granny ring when needed and just keep the pedals moving. Thank you ttcycle, you have no idea how this has transformed my FNRttCs. As we regrouped - I saw something I wasnt expecting. A view. An absolutely fantastic view. I was hooked. On we went, up, down, along roads of puddles, some 45mm deep. And more views across to Port Talbot, inland and down to Swansea. Breathtaking.
The route from Swansea to Mumbles was tough - the wind was strong. But worth it. We piled into the cafe, fabulous breakfasts all round. A presentation by Sahar to DZ on behalf of the Fridays - DZs broken derailleur mounted as a trophy as a reminder and thank you from the Fridays for LonJog 2012.
Up another hill (shocked the scrambled eggs I had eaten) to beersies. Our numbers decreased one by one until Gordon, Graham, McWobble and I headed to the 2.30pm train home. Excellent company - big thanks to you all.
As for the FNRttC -Thank you DZ and Susie. Thank you TC - we know about hills now...! I took some pics. I now know why you dont notice hills. You are surrounded by them although that's not necessarily a good enough reason to deny they exist....!!! But I really like your manor. What a place in which to live. User1314 - we need to invite ourselves over for a day ride if we can (and Leoqueen 1982 + G!)
I took some pics.
https://picasaweb.google.com/108733...&authkey=Gv1sRgCI2r5qP5jJSGPg&feat=directlink
M
PS I hope this isnt boring to read. Maybe I should have slept first. At least the pics capture a bit of how it was. To put it succinctly - it was ruddy fantastic and I count my lucky Red FNRttC Stars to be part of these rides. Thank you, peeps. Truly.
Attachments
srw
It's a bit more complicated than that...
Absolutely not. Great write-up, lovely photos, and I'm really disappointed we, or I, couldn't make it. When's next year's?
(And in the traditional way, a Brit has just failed to close out a match at Wimbledon - this time it's the completely unknown Marray. Thank heavens for Wiggins).
Michael Adu
Über Member
- Location
- SW9
"Maybe I should have slept first. At least the pics capture a bit of how it was"
Great write up and pics I think you could throw that camera of a cliff and it would still work !
Great write up and pics I think you could throw that camera of a cliff and it would still work !
StuAff
Silencing his legs regularly
- Location
- Portsmouth
As so often before, smashing pics M!
Even before yesterday morning, I was thinking the Trek was going to be the best bike for this one- still clean(ish) from a full monty service last week, the only bike I've got with mudguards, and disc brakes do not care if your wheel rims are covered in crud. And the Viner's Ian clean at the moment after its service- rather keep it that way for a bit! I'd got to Cardiff at a quarter to nine (the best compromise between timing and price)- train amazingly on time, though First Great Western still haven't accepted that their services along the south coast need more than three carriages- much of the time it was as crowded as a rush-hour train. And why, if I have a reserved seat, are no reservation cards displayed?..pointless.
Made my way over to Pizza Express in the rain, the journey interrupted by red lights at pretty much every junction, to be joined not long after by Greg and Gordon, then Claud, Charlie, and more of the London contingent as time went on. One thorough feed later, we made our way down to the Millenium Centre where Kim and the majority of our Welsh friends were waiting. Of the intrepid Teef, Graham and Adrian there was no sign yet.
Claud got the weather sorted for the night- it dried out just after the start, and what precipitation there was wasn't heavy and mostly confined to a short burst just before the stop. Cardiff street commentators were (mostly) amusing. One rather annoying taxi driver though- not really fast enough to help when I was trying to draft him on my way back to the front after marking (he got in the way, really..), and rather dodgy passing of the peloton earned him a short lecture from Simon.
On we went, through roads remarkably quiet even by late-night standards. Calls of 'sheep' were I think a first, the cattle grids weren't too bad on 28mm tyres at least. The three amigos eventually caught up with us just before the stop. Which was superb indeed- generous pot of tea, excellent sandwiches, and top-notch Welsh cakes, all served up with speed, efficiency and a smile. Teef unsurprisingly looked somewhat the worse for wear after a long, long day on the bike, in the pouring rain and into a headwind, but the break seemed to restore him to his usual strong self. Chapeau! for a phenomenal effort.
On we went, weather holding up, and by 5 am we even had some sunshine (pass the smelling salts). Bog Road....eek. Sorry, I'd rather have had the Fabian Way. At least I was on the right bike for a spot of cyclocross (one part of LonJog I did not enjoy was cleaning all the crud out of my very-expensive-and-recently-replaced-front brake after an alleged cycle path!). The hills weren't too arduous really, think I used the granny twice, though if I could have whatever drugs that speedy chap on the Focus Cayo's been having (every climb he seemed to storm up) that would be nice!
Jazz hands mark two was a little of a damp squib- I think there was a certain bemusement at our funny London ways on the part of the Welsh (perhaps understandable). On we went, and the Pier Cafe did a great job again. Service seemed a little confused at times, but the huge breakfast was well worth the wait. Following the presentation of the Trophy, some of us made our way up that climb to the bar- nearly made it but got the line wrong and had to walk up half of it. Next time....Then Charlie, Kim and I made our way to the station for the 11.28 to Paddington. My journey was an unexpectedly fraught one- I was supposed to change trains at Cardiff, but the Portsmouth service was cancelled. So back on until Newport, when (I thought) I'd have a long wait for the next connection. It got in at 11.42, the Pompey service was due to leave at 11.44. Fortunately, due to problems on the line the service was running late and I made it to the platform in time. Journey back to Pompey then thankfully trouble-free and less crowded than the outward leg.
Back home just before four, and the short nap became two hours of solid snoozing (think I needed it).
Thanks one and all!!
Even before yesterday morning, I was thinking the Trek was going to be the best bike for this one- still clean(ish) from a full monty service last week, the only bike I've got with mudguards, and disc brakes do not care if your wheel rims are covered in crud. And the Viner's Ian clean at the moment after its service- rather keep it that way for a bit! I'd got to Cardiff at a quarter to nine (the best compromise between timing and price)- train amazingly on time, though First Great Western still haven't accepted that their services along the south coast need more than three carriages- much of the time it was as crowded as a rush-hour train. And why, if I have a reserved seat, are no reservation cards displayed?..pointless.
Made my way over to Pizza Express in the rain, the journey interrupted by red lights at pretty much every junction, to be joined not long after by Greg and Gordon, then Claud, Charlie, and more of the London contingent as time went on. One thorough feed later, we made our way down to the Millenium Centre where Kim and the majority of our Welsh friends were waiting. Of the intrepid Teef, Graham and Adrian there was no sign yet.
Claud got the weather sorted for the night- it dried out just after the start, and what precipitation there was wasn't heavy and mostly confined to a short burst just before the stop. Cardiff street commentators were (mostly) amusing. One rather annoying taxi driver though- not really fast enough to help when I was trying to draft him on my way back to the front after marking (he got in the way, really..), and rather dodgy passing of the peloton earned him a short lecture from Simon.
On we went, through roads remarkably quiet even by late-night standards. Calls of 'sheep' were I think a first, the cattle grids weren't too bad on 28mm tyres at least. The three amigos eventually caught up with us just before the stop. Which was superb indeed- generous pot of tea, excellent sandwiches, and top-notch Welsh cakes, all served up with speed, efficiency and a smile. Teef unsurprisingly looked somewhat the worse for wear after a long, long day on the bike, in the pouring rain and into a headwind, but the break seemed to restore him to his usual strong self. Chapeau! for a phenomenal effort.
On we went, weather holding up, and by 5 am we even had some sunshine (pass the smelling salts). Bog Road....eek. Sorry, I'd rather have had the Fabian Way. At least I was on the right bike for a spot of cyclocross (one part of LonJog I did not enjoy was cleaning all the crud out of my very-expensive-and-recently-replaced-front brake after an alleged cycle path!). The hills weren't too arduous really, think I used the granny twice, though if I could have whatever drugs that speedy chap on the Focus Cayo's been having (every climb he seemed to storm up) that would be nice!
Jazz hands mark two was a little of a damp squib- I think there was a certain bemusement at our funny London ways on the part of the Welsh (perhaps understandable). On we went, and the Pier Cafe did a great job again. Service seemed a little confused at times, but the huge breakfast was well worth the wait. Following the presentation of the Trophy, some of us made our way up that climb to the bar- nearly made it but got the line wrong and had to walk up half of it. Next time....Then Charlie, Kim and I made our way to the station for the 11.28 to Paddington. My journey was an unexpectedly fraught one- I was supposed to change trains at Cardiff, but the Portsmouth service was cancelled. So back on until Newport, when (I thought) I'd have a long wait for the next connection. It got in at 11.42, the Pompey service was due to leave at 11.44. Fortunately, due to problems on the line the service was running late and I made it to the platform in time. Journey back to Pompey then thankfully trouble-free and less crowded than the outward leg.
Back home just before four, and the short nap became two hours of solid snoozing (think I needed it).
Thanks one and all!!
Mice
Guru
1924063 said:
Thank you for your kind comments, I'm glad you like the write-up and pics. What with your kind words and 10 hours sleep I now really feel a whole lot better. The ride was just fab. srw and rvw and Michael - sorry you werent there, hope you can make the next one. My camera seems to be hanging on by a thread no matter what I do to it! (I have started a back up fund for when it finally reaches its limit of how many times it can be thrown on the road, pavement, floor...!) Michael I have found another pair of legs - GordonPs. Blimey. You both pedal as though you just happen to be moving your legs,completely effort-free. The next time Im on a ride with both of you Im going to measure them. Standing next to GordonP, my hips were parallel with his knees! Must check Martin235s! Teef legs are just powerhouses. London-Cardiff-Swansea. Wowser!
I wonder if its sunny in Swansea today...........?
Mice
BigGee
Senior Member
- Location
- North East London
Swansea was a ride I was very much looking forward to being a place I had some happy memories of, including both a rugby tour and a cycle tour. my first cycle tour in fact, when I did the same ride of friday night in reverse. Due mainly to the fact that I did not know what I was doing, the tour left me with completly knackered kness and resulted in a couple of months off the bike, but also a strange desire to do it again, which is probably why I am writing this blog now! Anyway this all happenend over twenty years ago and I have been a stanger to swansea since then, so it was good to go back.
Put off by some rather expensive train tickets to cardiff in the evening I took the opportunity to go to Bristol in the afternoon and visit my daughter first. The rain was already coming down on my ride up to paddington and stayed with me on the train ride west. I then went to my daughters new student flat and managed to catch the last set of the andy murray match with her.
So buoyed by the result and fortified by some posh clifton chips I set out at about 19,30 planning to ride up to the bridge, over and down to cardiff in time for the start. I had it in my mind to be about 38 miles, but with the benefit of hindsight I am not sure exactly where the information came from. I was making reasonable progress trying to navigate the country lanes that lead onto the bridge cycle path when I saw the flash of a red cycle jacket in front of me, I caught up and found it to be martin, looking a little road worn following his ride down from london, a long day in the rain, which was still falling. He was also trying to find his way onto the bridge and to meet up with adrain who was waiting at the service station for him.
The signage for the bridge it has to be said is not great We followed a sign for it,which then promptly took us miles out of our way and probably cost us half an hour. We did eventually make it but by that time where in need of a coffee to revive us a bit and to let us dry off a little. We then set off with a bit over two hours to make the start line, but again it was a bit further and more challenging than we thought. Newport seems to go on for ever and then we managed to lose the A48 as we came into cardiff. By this time it was clear that we were not going to make the start and we had been instructed by our leader to meet the ride at the tesco stop on the A48. However as we were now off the A48 and circling the centre of cardiff trying to find it again this was not proving easy.
When we did eventually get back on the A48 and found tesco's it turned out to be the wrong one! We were of the opinion that this was a perfectly good tesco's and we could not see why the ride had not stopped at this one, but that did not help us. Some enquiries by adrain revealed that the tesco's we wanted was another 4 miles up the road and so we girded ourselves for one last push and the lure of some food. Just as we approached it we saw the tell tale sign of the red lights of a group of cyclists dissapearing away into the distance, so we had missed then again!
We needed some food at this stage and so stopped anyway. I had done 52 miles since bristol by by this stage and god knows how many martin had done, but revitalised we got back on the chase again. Eventually we got off the main road and onto some great country lanes and some quite exhilerating riding in the dark, swooping up down and round. A few more phone calls to guide us in and we eventually re grouped at llanwit major, some greeting expletives were exchanged between the two groups and then we all carried on together.
The rest of the ride was great, an excellent stop for food, views of port talbot steelworks, some reasonably challenging hills and the 'bog road', boy I am glad that no one punctured there! Swansea bay is majestic and I even spotted the devon view guest house, venue of our rugby tour many moons ago! No sign of devon on saturday morning but the rain had stopped during the night and the wind had blown us dry.
Once I got to mumbles I took the chance to pop off to catch up with some old friends of mine who live nearby and I had not seen for a long time. A couple of hours later I caught up with the remnants of the party, for whom the drinking was still on going. I spent a very pleasant couple of hours in their company before the long slog back around the bay in the company of Andrew, Gordon and Miranda towards the station and homeward bound.
We comandeered a table on the train despite it being booked up in the hope that it would not be claimed. At bristol some people did come to claim it, despite their being lots of other empty sets in the carriage. The guard, probably the most sensible and easy going railways employee I have ever met calmly directed them to some other empty sets nearby and peace broke out. We had a nice chat with them at the end, they were going to the wimbeldon final today and so we asked them to give andy a cheer for us.
Gordon and I bade Miranda farewell at paddington and we set off eastwards throught the westend and around the city. Gordon peeled off at mile end and I soloed the last bit home to woodford green. Got home at seven, 154 miles on the clock and a long satisfying ride in the tank.
Thanks to martin and adrain for the company earlier on in the adventure, to my companions on my journey home, to simon and claudine for arranging a great ride and to eveybody else for making it a great night out. See you all again for the harwich ride in august.
Put off by some rather expensive train tickets to cardiff in the evening I took the opportunity to go to Bristol in the afternoon and visit my daughter first. The rain was already coming down on my ride up to paddington and stayed with me on the train ride west. I then went to my daughters new student flat and managed to catch the last set of the andy murray match with her.
So buoyed by the result and fortified by some posh clifton chips I set out at about 19,30 planning to ride up to the bridge, over and down to cardiff in time for the start. I had it in my mind to be about 38 miles, but with the benefit of hindsight I am not sure exactly where the information came from. I was making reasonable progress trying to navigate the country lanes that lead onto the bridge cycle path when I saw the flash of a red cycle jacket in front of me, I caught up and found it to be martin, looking a little road worn following his ride down from london, a long day in the rain, which was still falling. He was also trying to find his way onto the bridge and to meet up with adrain who was waiting at the service station for him.
The signage for the bridge it has to be said is not great We followed a sign for it,which then promptly took us miles out of our way and probably cost us half an hour. We did eventually make it but by that time where in need of a coffee to revive us a bit and to let us dry off a little. We then set off with a bit over two hours to make the start line, but again it was a bit further and more challenging than we thought. Newport seems to go on for ever and then we managed to lose the A48 as we came into cardiff. By this time it was clear that we were not going to make the start and we had been instructed by our leader to meet the ride at the tesco stop on the A48. However as we were now off the A48 and circling the centre of cardiff trying to find it again this was not proving easy.
When we did eventually get back on the A48 and found tesco's it turned out to be the wrong one! We were of the opinion that this was a perfectly good tesco's and we could not see why the ride had not stopped at this one, but that did not help us. Some enquiries by adrain revealed that the tesco's we wanted was another 4 miles up the road and so we girded ourselves for one last push and the lure of some food. Just as we approached it we saw the tell tale sign of the red lights of a group of cyclists dissapearing away into the distance, so we had missed then again!
We needed some food at this stage and so stopped anyway. I had done 52 miles since bristol by by this stage and god knows how many martin had done, but revitalised we got back on the chase again. Eventually we got off the main road and onto some great country lanes and some quite exhilerating riding in the dark, swooping up down and round. A few more phone calls to guide us in and we eventually re grouped at llanwit major, some greeting expletives were exchanged between the two groups and then we all carried on together.
The rest of the ride was great, an excellent stop for food, views of port talbot steelworks, some reasonably challenging hills and the 'bog road', boy I am glad that no one punctured there! Swansea bay is majestic and I even spotted the devon view guest house, venue of our rugby tour many moons ago! No sign of devon on saturday morning but the rain had stopped during the night and the wind had blown us dry.
Once I got to mumbles I took the chance to pop off to catch up with some old friends of mine who live nearby and I had not seen for a long time. A couple of hours later I caught up with the remnants of the party, for whom the drinking was still on going. I spent a very pleasant couple of hours in their company before the long slog back around the bay in the company of Andrew, Gordon and Miranda towards the station and homeward bound.
We comandeered a table on the train despite it being booked up in the hope that it would not be claimed. At bristol some people did come to claim it, despite their being lots of other empty sets in the carriage. The guard, probably the most sensible and easy going railways employee I have ever met calmly directed them to some other empty sets nearby and peace broke out. We had a nice chat with them at the end, they were going to the wimbeldon final today and so we asked them to give andy a cheer for us.
Gordon and I bade Miranda farewell at paddington and we set off eastwards throught the westend and around the city. Gordon peeled off at mile end and I soloed the last bit home to woodford green. Got home at seven, 154 miles on the clock and a long satisfying ride in the tank.
Thanks to martin and adrain for the company earlier on in the adventure, to my companions on my journey home, to simon and claudine for arranging a great ride and to eveybody else for making it a great night out. See you all again for the harwich ride in august.
GrumpyGregry
Here for rides.
One of the hardest rides I've ever done, from pub to station that is.
an afternoon awheel in Cardiff, a Norwegian Church and a food fayre, denied a trip on a boat with bike for safety reasons, an abortive visit to a castle, the rain arrives and thoughts of the bridge and back abandoned, a most splendid arts centre, a cardboard box that wasn't, some dogs on the TV, photos of graffiti that weren't, yummy mummies smiling, precipitation to tempt Noah out of retirement, a burger, beer, the splendid Gordon P for company listening to me waffle on, another beer, a double espresso, pointless red phases where no one thing moves, overshoe doubles as saddle protector, somewhere in Cardiff a Waitrose bag blows by an puzzled tramp, pizza, friends and a diy affogatto, more friends, even more friends. Laughter. Balm to the soul.
A shift in the wind, a miracle; the rain has stopped. We exit the darkened city in a mode so different to the Great Wen. The usual enquiries "We don't do charity". A climb. An elderly man tells a tale of woe, trackstands, Susie attempting a bass-baritone "all up!", riding very, very, slowly. Police enquiries. Hedges like walls, scary shadows, pitch dark concealing who knows what behind. So much darker than the south-east. A lesson in welsh for Charlie and Susie, roads strewn with leaves and twigs, rivers and streams with tarmac bottoms, a clever idea to fight erosion perhaps, views over the Bristol Channel "Is that Weston?" Colin's wheelbearing plays the rhythm section. A silly wheel breaks a spoke, a red card is issued, such a shame but fix it roadside we cannot. The Heddlu come to look again. A grumpy man arrives with two friends. Normal service is resumed.
The wind attacks from every gate, I curse the panniers on my rack but thank my lucky stars for mood gourds. Trappist rules for the tea stop. Threats of violence. The best ham ever. Welsh cakes to die for. Coffee. Such lovely people. The kindness of strangers eh?
George earns a medal as the Welsh Waymarker, Colin goes left, a hill. A bluddy great hill. I'm am overtook. I curse the contents of my panniers. I overtake the overtookers. The view. The grumpy man has cheered up and fixes his own puncture in Pyle. A housing estate stands where once I chased an oval pill. A right turn, gratuitous hillage. Susie is not best pleased. I pour down a rain of oaths on my panniers, the Aged P, and the need to visit him.
An Epistolary diversion.
"Dear roadie peeps
The Bog Road was fantastic. Rim brakes are useless. I hope we go that way again. Every time we come to Wales. I loved it. It takes all sorts.
Yours sincerely
A descender"
The sea. A marina, a classic tailwind roll. Beware of the sand. Beware of the road train - signs erected especially for Mice. Mumbles Pier. Inferior sausages. A good line in milkshakes. 'Teef washes up. Andrew good company. I forgot to get my whisky out. A sore throat is noticed. Beer is mentioned. and mentioned again. A jersey is awarded, a Tour Operator is recognised. Some depart for the smoke, and some for the Lake District. A short but significant hill is climbed. God is thanked for triples. Bike sculpture forms; a symphony in steel and titanium and recycled coke cans.
London Pride and the best company a man could ask for. Joy arrives. As does more rain. More Pride too. Martin suggests two-timing it to the station. Nonsense is talked. Four hats is deemed excessive. A charger is sought and found. Some people go. Simon enquires. Simon nods off. French France next year. More beer? I decline. The road is hit. The cycle path declined. The wind. Oh the wind. Thank you Martin. Ticket machine disgorges. Sweet relief.
A post script....
Lunch bought. Train boarded. Angry man in bike space. I ask nicely. He answers in fluent anglo-saxon. I ask again. He rears up. I point out sign. I read out sign. He gets all racist. I tell him in the language of heaven what he can do. He no speak the language. Twat. The conductor intervenes. Ineffectually.
He tries to stare me down for the next half hour. He fiddles with my pannier. I get in his face. He gets ejected from the train. A drunk misses his stop and rails at the world. A Haven arrives, me and the drunk the only passengers. Stunningly hot. Drunk man falls over on platform. I climb aboard the bike. Nice little ride. Use of cycle path is suggested by driver. I decline. Politely and in silence. We discuss at the traffic lights. He in anglo-saxon. I agree to go back to England if he will leave my life forever.
The Aged P is tearful. Big Sis ditto. A shower. A Chinese takeway. An Englishman wins something a Wimbledon. Bed by nine. Sleep of the dead.
an afternoon awheel in Cardiff, a Norwegian Church and a food fayre, denied a trip on a boat with bike for safety reasons, an abortive visit to a castle, the rain arrives and thoughts of the bridge and back abandoned, a most splendid arts centre, a cardboard box that wasn't, some dogs on the TV, photos of graffiti that weren't, yummy mummies smiling, precipitation to tempt Noah out of retirement, a burger, beer, the splendid Gordon P for company listening to me waffle on, another beer, a double espresso, pointless red phases where no one thing moves, overshoe doubles as saddle protector, somewhere in Cardiff a Waitrose bag blows by an puzzled tramp, pizza, friends and a diy affogatto, more friends, even more friends. Laughter. Balm to the soul.
A shift in the wind, a miracle; the rain has stopped. We exit the darkened city in a mode so different to the Great Wen. The usual enquiries "We don't do charity". A climb. An elderly man tells a tale of woe, trackstands, Susie attempting a bass-baritone "all up!", riding very, very, slowly. Police enquiries. Hedges like walls, scary shadows, pitch dark concealing who knows what behind. So much darker than the south-east. A lesson in welsh for Charlie and Susie, roads strewn with leaves and twigs, rivers and streams with tarmac bottoms, a clever idea to fight erosion perhaps, views over the Bristol Channel "Is that Weston?" Colin's wheelbearing plays the rhythm section. A silly wheel breaks a spoke, a red card is issued, such a shame but fix it roadside we cannot. The Heddlu come to look again. A grumpy man arrives with two friends. Normal service is resumed.
The wind attacks from every gate, I curse the panniers on my rack but thank my lucky stars for mood gourds. Trappist rules for the tea stop. Threats of violence. The best ham ever. Welsh cakes to die for. Coffee. Such lovely people. The kindness of strangers eh?
George earns a medal as the Welsh Waymarker, Colin goes left, a hill. A bluddy great hill. I'm am overtook. I curse the contents of my panniers. I overtake the overtookers. The view. The grumpy man has cheered up and fixes his own puncture in Pyle. A housing estate stands where once I chased an oval pill. A right turn, gratuitous hillage. Susie is not best pleased. I pour down a rain of oaths on my panniers, the Aged P, and the need to visit him.
An Epistolary diversion.
"Dear roadie peeps
The Bog Road was fantastic. Rim brakes are useless. I hope we go that way again. Every time we come to Wales. I loved it. It takes all sorts.
Yours sincerely
A descender"
The sea. A marina, a classic tailwind roll. Beware of the sand. Beware of the road train - signs erected especially for Mice. Mumbles Pier. Inferior sausages. A good line in milkshakes. 'Teef washes up. Andrew good company. I forgot to get my whisky out. A sore throat is noticed. Beer is mentioned. and mentioned again. A jersey is awarded, a Tour Operator is recognised. Some depart for the smoke, and some for the Lake District. A short but significant hill is climbed. God is thanked for triples. Bike sculpture forms; a symphony in steel and titanium and recycled coke cans.
London Pride and the best company a man could ask for. Joy arrives. As does more rain. More Pride too. Martin suggests two-timing it to the station. Nonsense is talked. Four hats is deemed excessive. A charger is sought and found. Some people go. Simon enquires. Simon nods off. French France next year. More beer? I decline. The road is hit. The cycle path declined. The wind. Oh the wind. Thank you Martin. Ticket machine disgorges. Sweet relief.
A post script....
Lunch bought. Train boarded. Angry man in bike space. I ask nicely. He answers in fluent anglo-saxon. I ask again. He rears up. I point out sign. I read out sign. He gets all racist. I tell him in the language of heaven what he can do. He no speak the language. Twat. The conductor intervenes. Ineffectually.
He tries to stare me down for the next half hour. He fiddles with my pannier. I get in his face. He gets ejected from the train. A drunk misses his stop and rails at the world. A Haven arrives, me and the drunk the only passengers. Stunningly hot. Drunk man falls over on platform. I climb aboard the bike. Nice little ride. Use of cycle path is suggested by driver. I decline. Politely and in silence. We discuss at the traffic lights. He in anglo-saxon. I agree to go back to England if he will leave my life forever.
The Aged P is tearful. Big Sis ditto. A shower. A Chinese takeway. An Englishman wins something a Wimbledon. Bed by nine. Sleep of the dead.
martint235
Dog on a bike
- Location
- Welling
Who is this grumpy man of whom you speak Mr Collins?
GrumpyGregry
Here for rides.
Essential Welsh for Cyclists. Lesson one
The weather.
Mae hi'n bwrw glaw = it is raining
Mae hi'n bwrw glaw iawn = it is raining a lot
Mae hi'n bwrw (glaw) yn drwm = it is really lashing it down
Oes tafarn yn agos i fan hyn? = Is there a pub nearby?
Hoffwn i gwrw, os gwelwch yn dda = I'd like a beer please
The weather.
Mae hi'n bwrw glaw = it is raining
Mae hi'n bwrw glaw iawn = it is raining a lot
Mae hi'n bwrw (glaw) yn drwm = it is really lashing it down
Oes tafarn yn agos i fan hyn? = Is there a pub nearby?
Hoffwn i gwrw, os gwelwch yn dda = I'd like a beer please
GrumpyGregry
Here for rides.
My evil twin.
