Origamist
Legendary Member
That was a great ride and route - fast, smooth roads, some stunning views, lots of new faces, pleasant weather in the main, friendly staff at the cafes/pubs, and copious amounts of moist cake (thanks CL).
On the ride to the Minster from Dringhouses I passed a cyclist (who I later learnt was Hulver) but selfishly sped past as I was worried I’d be late. As I passed York train station I picked up Simon et al just in time to lead them through the morass of drunken and disappointed England fans in the centre due to Lendal Bridge being out of action.
The Minster was a beautiful, pre-ride loitering spot. We made it out of York quickly and without incident and were soon on quiet country roads. I was TECing for the first half of the ride, but the closest we had to a mechanical was a slipped chain. The tailwind meant that the group was moving along at a fair pace and we were soon in Melbourne for a brief tea-stop.
Sutton Bridge was a doddle (thanks to Adam) and Yorkshire soon became Lincs. As we approached the Humber Bridge Mikee suggested an off-road route – this led to flashbacks of Bognor, but the path was gentler than many of S London’s roads and we kept our fillings. The path turned out to be an inspired detour as it afforded wonderful views of the Humber Bridge with dawn fast approaching. After stopping at Mrs B's (what happened to the limited menu of jacket spuds, jacket spuds and jacket spuds?) I made a tactical blunder and had a sausage roll, when carrot cake would have sufficed.
The rest of the ride is a bit of a blur, but I managed to clumsily fix my camera to the handlebars at dawn, rode more towards the front, and chatted to anyone who would put up with me for 5 mins or so.
We made excellent time as Grimsby was on the horizon by 6.30ish. A bit of drizzle welcomed us to the coast, but the cafe was a well drilled outfit and we were all clogging our arteries in next to no time.
I was toying with the idea of cycling back to York after hearing of talk of problems with the trains. However, I quickly came to my senses and convinced a small but select band of FNRttCs (3BM, TC and ILB) to accompany me to the train station pub. This venue contained more than a few “characters” that were already sloshed by 9.30 (I think it’s what literary types call “local colour”). Young Andy looked like he was trying to swallow his tongue when “Heather” a large, tattooed and uncompromising sort regaled us repeatedly with tales of her impending incarceration at Her Majesty’s pleasure for GBH. Thankfully, this group had booked a taxi to “top town” and departed in a fug of burps, expletives, and good-byes.
We stayed for another pint, but decided the train situation was worth a risk and we made it to Donnie and then York (part of me hoped we would get stuck in Scunnie - maybe next time?).
Later in the day I visited the bike show and spotted Clarion of this parish, but left soon after as I needed a power nap. Three hours later I awoke and was whisked off by my friends to Oscars where I had a chicken burger and a bottle of Rioja; a comforting way to end a brilliant day.
It was great to catch-up with the old contemptibles and meet so many new people: Dalestar, Hulver, Crinkly Lion, Sharky, 3BM, Marin, Fiona, Landslide, Longers, Mr Bunbury, and Uncle Phil (who had “sensibly” affixed a name tag to his saddle-bag!).
A final big thank you to Simon and Mikee for making it all run like clockwork and the doughty chap on the MTB with 2” knobblies who made me feel like a cheat for running 700c slicks...
On the ride to the Minster from Dringhouses I passed a cyclist (who I later learnt was Hulver) but selfishly sped past as I was worried I’d be late. As I passed York train station I picked up Simon et al just in time to lead them through the morass of drunken and disappointed England fans in the centre due to Lendal Bridge being out of action.
The Minster was a beautiful, pre-ride loitering spot. We made it out of York quickly and without incident and were soon on quiet country roads. I was TECing for the first half of the ride, but the closest we had to a mechanical was a slipped chain. The tailwind meant that the group was moving along at a fair pace and we were soon in Melbourne for a brief tea-stop.
Sutton Bridge was a doddle (thanks to Adam) and Yorkshire soon became Lincs. As we approached the Humber Bridge Mikee suggested an off-road route – this led to flashbacks of Bognor, but the path was gentler than many of S London’s roads and we kept our fillings. The path turned out to be an inspired detour as it afforded wonderful views of the Humber Bridge with dawn fast approaching. After stopping at Mrs B's (what happened to the limited menu of jacket spuds, jacket spuds and jacket spuds?) I made a tactical blunder and had a sausage roll, when carrot cake would have sufficed.
The rest of the ride is a bit of a blur, but I managed to clumsily fix my camera to the handlebars at dawn, rode more towards the front, and chatted to anyone who would put up with me for 5 mins or so.
We made excellent time as Grimsby was on the horizon by 6.30ish. A bit of drizzle welcomed us to the coast, but the cafe was a well drilled outfit and we were all clogging our arteries in next to no time.
I was toying with the idea of cycling back to York after hearing of talk of problems with the trains. However, I quickly came to my senses and convinced a small but select band of FNRttCs (3BM, TC and ILB) to accompany me to the train station pub. This venue contained more than a few “characters” that were already sloshed by 9.30 (I think it’s what literary types call “local colour”). Young Andy looked like he was trying to swallow his tongue when “Heather” a large, tattooed and uncompromising sort regaled us repeatedly with tales of her impending incarceration at Her Majesty’s pleasure for GBH. Thankfully, this group had booked a taxi to “top town” and departed in a fug of burps, expletives, and good-byes.
We stayed for another pint, but decided the train situation was worth a risk and we made it to Donnie and then York (part of me hoped we would get stuck in Scunnie - maybe next time?).
Later in the day I visited the bike show and spotted Clarion of this parish, but left soon after as I needed a power nap. Three hours later I awoke and was whisked off by my friends to Oscars where I had a chicken burger and a bottle of Rioja; a comforting way to end a brilliant day.
It was great to catch-up with the old contemptibles and meet so many new people: Dalestar, Hulver, Crinkly Lion, Sharky, 3BM, Marin, Fiona, Landslide, Longers, Mr Bunbury, and Uncle Phil (who had “sensibly” affixed a name tag to his saddle-bag!).
A final big thank you to Simon and Mikee for making it all run like clockwork and the doughty chap on the MTB with 2” knobblies who made me feel like a cheat for running 700c slicks...
