FNRttC Cardiff to Swansea - 6th July 2012

[GrumpyGregry]

How come you're koalified to judge ?

Why the fark is that Koala wearing a helmet? Surely they are only compulsory in Oz for humans?

 

[martint235]

Why the **** is that Koala wearing a helmet? Surely they are only compulsory in Oz for humans?

Because it might save its life obviously. D'oh.

 

[Aperitif]

The weather looks pants. No, it's worse than that...it looks underpants!

it looks pretty good. Some rain at Porthcawl, but not much.

Just get that one out of the way for a K.O.

Well, that was very fine!
No, not the rain silly - that was torrential at times. I declare a liking for The Mumbles. Listeners might think it is affection for Greg and Adrian on a good day (which would be true) but - I. Just. Like. It.
And, as a sort of homage a Frank, (who will be doing a 24hr time trial later this month and tooling about with folk like me might be just a bit too off-putting to risk mental destruction riding to the Land of the Bloody Great Fishes) after he led a ride down there last year, I wanted to do this once more for fun. Davy, having pulled the thread on the right leg of his super-wide shorts was unable to participate, which was ok. I would have been happy with 'Route 1' along the A4 but preferred the original x-country style, taking in various bits, particularly with relevance to last year's ride - cheers, Frank.

For anyone who glimpsed the countryside attached to my bike by Mumbles End...this was just before setting off...
I delayed 'the off' for a couple of hours in the vain attempt to start dry and get warmed up. The rain was falling like hard pencils (it wasn't 2B) so wet it was. No problem though as it stopped 14 hours later.

Last year the ride was two months earlier and the pond at Harefield was bathed in sunshine. Even the ducks were feeling down...
Harefield was awash. Other minor roads were flooded; it was impossible to pick up on the descents as there was invariably a Buckinghamshire Booby-Trap waiting - submerged, ready to puncture and buckle...it became a bit dicey and, overall, a quite 'technical' (for me) ride. (Which is why I 'looked tired' - riding and thinking are not my strong points obviously...along with the multi-tasking element my brane was steaming )

I dialled in Swindon and went direct. A coffee and pie were hoovered up at a garage. These '+ facilities' are welcoming welcoming welcoming. I realised that the float on my pedals was coming in handy along the route...Whilst wondering when I should change into my dry gloves I took a look at an atlas. 'Aust' was nearest to Nirvana and Adrian (I make no distinction, although Nirvana needs to get up to speed...) and Boom! I was off again to Malmesbury and beyond - not a wing walker in sight (you'll have to trawl for last year's report to find out about all that biz.) Stopped for a phantom puncture and changed gloves. Dry gloves were wet in five seconds as it was thrashing down by then, but I needed to ramp it up to get to Adrian etc.
Saw some idiot in an Altura red jacket idiotically cycling in the wet, and I thought I was looking in the mirror "BigGeesus!" I exclaimed. Luckily, Graham knew the way.
To Amarillo but not The Services at the Bridge. The signeage is farking useless and assumes one can read stuff hidden behind trees and written in 72pt in the dark... but we made it and Adrian bought rescue coffee.
A sightseeing tour of Newport and Cardiff, including a SuperTesco, followed by a disappearing peloton of red lights from the next, was our reward. It had almost stopped raining - whoopeeee-do! Almost. By this time, I needed to get off the bike - not for long but just for walksies and a sandwich. Ate one and then tried to eat the other two bits whilst trying to climb that big enough slope after departing Tesco. Difficult! Adrian has expletived himself out by this point - unwrapping his telephone at every opportunity sounded like he was leading in The Tourette de Wales...louder and louder - made me smile. If I had been on time it wouldn't have happened - sorry Adrian.
Then we all got together and normal service was resumed. The back of the ride was ramping up the pace and I wondered what was going on to let the ride split so much - but there was a logic. The latter stages of the ride were interesting for me - the ups and downs, just being nosey...

The rainbow was dropping toward The Cafe at Mumbles.
And the rain stopped. Herewith a rare example of morning shadows, cast by the sun - a delight:

I commendeered the Dyson Airblade and basin within the gents WC, to wash and do drysies on my overshoes. Then I tried to wash my legsies and found the only way was to use the overshoes to do scrubsies - and got them all dirty again! Personal hygiene is never my strong point (except for the smell) and so didn't bother further.
It rained some more while we looked out on the magnificent widescreen of the Bay. "This is a right mare" I said to myself, and just then - he appeared! Complete with official photographer, but not for us, although Kim deigned to give him an audience and they shook hands. It would be funny if the pic. appeared in the paper instead of who it was supposed to be...Claudine will spy no doubt, and report back.

Adrian's bicycle, alone, looking like it was from another planet
- before we set off as sensible, refreshed people to get battered by some wind+, on the road to the Station, then London, for our various obligations.
A lovely adventure. No idea how far but a bit longer to arrive than last year plus whatever the length of the Cardiff - Mumbles bit was. 220-230 miles? Dunno - didn't start the counter. Nice folk to talk to and Miranda offered me a cup of teasies as soon as I got to the halfway point - excellent service.
Thank you Simon and Susie - you love me both.

PS. For sale: See below. (Note to self - don't be an arse next time and think the impossible!)

 

[Flying Dodo]

Epic ride & write-up Martin. I had thought about repeating last year's ride to Cardiff - I had even bought 2 brand new tyres as preparation. However, at the time they released train tickets back to London, my train-fu must have failed, as I couldn't find cheap ones back with a bike reservation.

 

[Aperitif]

Epic ride & write-up Martin. I had thought about repeating last year's ride to Cardiff - I had even bought 2 brand new tyres as preparation. However, at the time they released train tickets back to London, my train-fu must have failed, as I couldn't find cheap ones back with a bike reservation.

Thanks, Adam - you would have been a welcome companion, as you had a score to settle. Next time.
Funnily enough, the 'lift' for me was when I passed the scene of one of your rubber-based events* - outside Malmesbury - and then got to that house where the horse was looking out over the wall at us. This year, I could see him, indoors watching telly - even the white horses on the slopes were galloping for cover. But it meant that I was in hot pursuit of that coffee at the bridge...

* One on a bike I mean - not the usual sort.

 

[theclaud]

our very own National Gallery, Garbo's Salary and Cellophane all at the same time!

That may well be the first time I've been Cole Portered in a Cyclechat thread . If people will excuse my intertextual ramblings, it's put me in mind of an obscure Mumbles connection. I came across this account featuring a school in Newton Road (up the hill towards my old house) known as "Miss Pinkham's". I know nothing else about Miss Pinkham of Mumbles, or whether she had any connection to her famous namesake from Massachusetts, but I suspect it was the latter that Irving Berlin was referring to in his alternative lyrics for Porter's tune:

You’re the top! You’re Miss Pinkham’s tonic.
You’re the top! You’re a high colonic.
You’re the burning heat of a bridal suite in use.
You’re the breasts of Venus.
You’re King Kong’s penis
You‘re self-abuse.
You’re an arch in the Rome collection.
You’re the starch in a groom’s erection.
I'm a eunuch who has just been through an op.
But if baby I’m the bottom, you’re the top.

But I digress...

I always believed that the rain would stop and the wind would swing behind us. And anyway, I had already decided it would be McWobble’s fault if it didn’t. But this doesn’t explain why anyone else would show up, for earlier in the evening it looked, to anyone not employing the same tactic of insane optimism, like a night for masochists only.

I got to Swansea station very fast (which was, ahem, alarming), and somehow without getting wet, but I thought of John Cardy's hardy CTC posse setting of to ride to Cardiff from Briton Ferry at 6:30pm (just before the deluge) and almost wept for them. I got word of a couple of cancellations, and as I found myself the only cyclist on the train I took to Cardiff, I feared that they had set the tone for the evening, and that the pre-ride charm offensive on Franklin's might be all in vain. But I was cheered to find Greg, Stu, Gordon and (after a short while) Charlie at the PizzaExpress as planned, and even more cheered when a dryish and smiling John C and his merry band appeared, having wisely traded in the team heroics for a train ride, a dinner in Chip Alley and a couple of pints of Brains at the Prince of Wales. The other John, and Colin, had started earlier and made the ride up from Swansea in good spirits, as had the irrepressible Gareth. We were soon joined by Simon and Susie, with an entourage of Fridays Indispensables, and as we studied the bunting flapping around outside, we started to read good omens into its movements.

Time to gather in earnest, and we might have wandered hopelessly around the bay for hours, had Gordon not used his special powers to locate the inconspicuous assembly point:

Simon forgot to mention sheep in the safety talk, and we were still Three Mouseketeers short, but we set off, the wind at our backs and the rain abated. Much of the rest has been told, and it wouldn't be fair for me to harp on any longer about just how good it felt to be cossetted along the Vale of Glamorgan coastline by benign weather gods; to be blown through tree-tunnels, pedalling now and again just because it would be rude not to. So I won't mention any of that, and I will just say A Few Things About Hills, by way of explanation or apology, depending on your point of view.

Those who have not ridden the route before are unlikely to appreciate that we made at least four hills disappear completely from the first half of the ride. At other times, and for those less blessed than The Fridays, there is a mildly tiresome climb on the road to Llanmaes, a short, sharp slope between St Donat's and Marcross, and an irksome upward drag before Monknash. The aforementioned tailwind and the the magic of the night simply did away with all of these, producing an illusion and experience of flatness that is generally difficult to come by in Wales. The fourth hill, memorably climbed in both directions last year by Simon and John the GP in a brief rescue mission, we did away with by the more prosaic method of going round it instead of over it. Lots of sums were done involving swings, roundabouts, sixes and half-dozens, and we sacrificed the ride's best descent for the gentler charms of the St Bride's Loop - a move which led us, indirectly, to Pam and Julie at Franklin's and their home-baked ham.

Then there was a hill swap. Our halfway break used to be followed by what Simon described as an "undistinguished" climb, through Tythegston towards Porthcawl. Although better at night than in the day, it's an unsatisfying stretch of road that has been bothering me for some time, and not just because a honey bee once perished in the TC decollétage on the descent. The swap, which we now know as The Laleston Variation or The Cefn Cribwr Conversion, was effected one very damp day when Simon heroically risked investigating a yawning chasm in the road in order to save Susie and me an unnecessary mile in the rain. The hole in the road, into which every FNRttC since the beginning could disappear and still leave room for every FNRttC yet to come, spoilt the line of the route from Porthcawl and drove us to seek from the ridge a view which would compensate us for the loss of our dawn stop on the bridge. It did not escape the notice of one or two dear friends, who I would not have thought to be of the bean-counting persuasion, that the swapped hills were not precisely equal in every sense. Opinions as to which offers more bounce for the ounce can be entertained at length when the big hole in the road gets filled in. In the meantime, send them to the Highways Department at Neath Port Talbot County Borough Council...

The rest is all about hills and bogs, and the space between having already been snaffled by motor vehicles. When the Cardiff to Swansea ride was first mooted, my assessment of the possibilities was that the route would pretty much sort itself out as far as Port Talbot, but that the approach to Swansea, to put it as politely as possible, needed work. The sort of work it really needs involves dropping a bomb on some really stupid people in large municipal buildings, but the FNRttC is a peaceable affair, and occupies itself instead with scratching its head and looking at maps until something more benign suggests itself. Last year, directness and flatness did all the suggesting, but we couldn't overlook the fact that lots of people simply hated riding along the Fabian Way. There's a cycle path alongside, naturally, but it's exactly the sort of squalid ghetto that makes Sustrans sound like a swear word. So we decided to do it differently. To the north of Fabian Way there is a very large bog. A road skirts its west edge, between the bog and a something called Kilvey Hill, which (suffice to say) is beloved of Downhill mtbers. The Bog Road is the least hilly road into Swansea from the east, after the Fabian Way. It is also one of only three locations in Britain where you will find Dolomedes plantarius, the Great Raft Spider. Don't do a Google Image Search if you are of weak constitution. These fearsome beasts lurk at the edges of the water and skim across the surface to sink their fangs into anything that remains still for a second. This, and not the poor surface, was the true reason for the over-solicitous safety talk at the beginning of the Bog Road. The ride had to be kept moving steadily and safely, or the FNRttC might have suffered its first losses due to predation. We didn't want to worry anyone, so we kept everyone busy shouting about potholes and gravel. It's trucks or giant spiders, folks - time to make up your minds...

It was a pleasure to ride with you all around my home turf. Oddly, since you've gone, the freak South-Westerlies have returned. I really can't account for it...

 

[Aperitif]

Still awaiting the book...and what a fine way for a bee to perish. And that tree is bending over backwards to prove Adrian right! (Or maybe he's just out of picture, left, ranting at it?)

 

[Aperitif]

I reckon that insects appreciating a good death is a tad fanciful, they can't even have a concept of breasts.

Trust you to come along and put a fly in the ointment! Besides, what about waspies? (No, not waspsies - something else entirely) Plenty of those have been ruined around a person's enbyappointment, or whatever it is called.

 

[User10571]

Well, that was very fine!.............
View attachment 10771

Good words, Martin.

 

[Davywalnuts]

Great read TC. However, now I know of such creepy crawly beasts, I dont think I will ever do the Wales ride.. its insidious!!

 

[theclaud]

They don't crawl, Davy. They lunge. And shouldn't that have some kind of warning on it?

 

[Aperitif]

insidious

Davy got bitten by 'lexicographus thighii' I reckon.

I dont think I will ever do the Wales ride

Cop out.

Morning Afternoon Davos.

 

[DogTired]

Thanks Simon and TC for a cracking ride! From a novice FNRttC (personal) perspective...
1. Twas a lot faster than I expected
2. Was a lot less hilly than expected
3. You can't feel tired when the bloke next to you has ridden from London!
4. Getting a cafe open at 3 in the morning with that level of hospitality is quite an achievement!
5. For us country dwellers the bog road was pretty bog standard - and I learned all about the niceties of land-fill technology on the way down it!
6. Heh, I thought the over-bridge hand-jive would be more Gareth Hunt/velo-warrior/anti-car than what it turned out to be, not the John Travolta/Grease version. Thankfully that's as far as John Travolta went, so the only 'happy finish' after that was the fry-up at the Mumbles.

 

[theclaud]

Thanks Simon and TC for a cracking ride! From a novice FNRttC (personal) perspective...
1. Twas a lot faster than I expected
2. Was a lot less hilly than expected
3. You can't feel tired when the bloke next to you has ridden from London!
4. Getting a cafe open at 3 in the morning with that level of hospitality is quite an achievement!
5. For us country dwellers the bog road was pretty bog standard - and I learned all about the niceties of land-fill technology on the way down it!
6. Heh, I thought the over-bridge hand-jive would be more Gareth Hunt/velo-warrior/anti-car than what it turned out to be, not the John Travolta/Grease version. Thankfully that's as far as John Travolta went, so the only 'happy finish' after that was the fry-up at the Mumbles.

DT - give us a clue - I'm not connecting the CC username with the ackshul cyclist.

 

[DogTired]

DT - give us a clue - I'm not connecting the CC username with the ackshul cyclist.

White specialised, facially a mix of confusion and fatigue. Usually running towards the front in the red-lights of the those two chaps from the Uni after my front-light packed up. (One of whom was Mr whippet up the hills - on the train over from Swanners he was bemoaning he hadnt been on his bike for about 3 months - big fibber!)