Well, that was one fun packed weekend. Sunday afternoon being fun only in an ironic sense (I'll come back to that).
But first, an introduction, or a reintroduction as applicable....
This fine four-legged chap is Stanley Squires, currently a resident of Tollerton, Yorkshire. His hobbies include barking, growling (he would make an excellent subwoofer, pun intended), jumping up and down demanding attention (I for one am happy to accede), and eating soil. Those of you who were on LonJog sped past him, his 'brother' Gus, and their human dad Daryl on your way through Tollerton (I stopped for a natter, and to get barked at). So should you cross his path in future, do say hello, and remember he growls at everyone so don't take it personally. He's a sweetie really
My trip to Yorkshire started a bit earlier than most of the southern contingent, apart from having the time off (well, with a late shift I'd have had to anyway, but...) I was combining the ride with a visit to Daryl, his lovely wife Jen (my best mate), and the dogs. There is a cat as well, but she's a bit of a stroppy teenager...So I started the journey north just before eleven, over to King's Cross in time for the 1330. And a brief encounter with Eddie, who was catching an earlier train to Leeds (also staying with a friend). Train up was uneventful and arrived on time two hours later, the departure from York station equally so. On my trip up for the Cleethorpes ride three years back, I managed to get the GPS routing back and forth between York and Tollerton wrong all four times (nearly missed the train home!!), so I'd been extra careful this time in setting the courses this time. Route ones, no stupid hard-to-spot bike paths..and thankfully in practice they all worked. Up to Tollerton, ten and a bit miles (much of the route familiar to Lonjoggers) in 49 minutes, to be greeted by Daryl and a most effective canine alarm system. Several hours of chinwagging and a most excellent bowl of pasta later, plus aforementioned (and utterly magnificent) brownies in The Rucksack, headed south again, in plenty of time for the meet-up. And this time, managed to spot the great big Minster-shaped thing without bother
Time to admire Uncle Phil's AM and User10571's newly rebuilt Scott before we all headed off, after the safety talk and invocations against whatsisname who failed to turn up after 'reconfirming'. Twit. Very pleasant to see CL and cub on our way out of town. Due of the travails of two of our party, our progress was unexpectedly slow, but despite the nip in the air, as pleasant as the southern varieties. As ever, there were interesting encounters with the human wildlife, this time in Goole, where Rebecca and Adam bailed on account of the former's knee problems. The spread at Garthorpe was most excellent, and the table rapidly emptied as if a plague of lycra-clad locusts had arrived. On we went, the speed didn't increase, but the pleasure did nonetheless. The sunrise brought some truly fantastic views, and my second trip over the Humber Bridge no less memorable than the first. After a welcome cameo from Mike, on we went, Kingston-upon-Hull proving surprisingly picturesque in places- those wide streets with the grass central reservations were lovely.
After a most excellent breakfast at Pasaz and a modicum of chinwagging (some brevity in view of the onward journey I had to make) I made my way north. The train appealed only as a backup option. £20 for an hour or so into York, then still have another ten miles at the end of it? That, to reach Tollerton a mere hour or so earlier barely seemed worth it. So off I slogged into the headwind. Fortunately, most of the climbing came at the beginning, and the throbbing in my right knee that I've been feeling on the last few long runs didn't develop further. Though, sadly, the headwind didn't bugger off somewhere else. Got passed by the clearly speedier MAC when I stopped for a refuel just short of Melbourne, then passed him a bit later when he was dealing with a visitation. My pace wasn't a patch on what I've done in the area before, but given the conditions (mine and the weather) four and a quarter hours for fifty miles wasn't too shabby. Bed beckoned not long after that. Slept like a narcoleptic baby. Surfaced for more chinwagging, a most excellent dinner, and Dr Who on the iPlayer. Fab.
Sod's law, headwind for the return to the station in the morning, but I allowed plenty of time to make the train, so no bother there. Went a little pear-shaped after that. Due to the London Marathon organisers helpfully not consulting the FNRttC calendar before scheduling the event, I was going to have fun and games making my onward train. I'd booked a five quid ticket on Southern out of Victoria for 1317. The York service was scheduled to get in 1244. And it ran late...aargh. 22 minutes from KX to Victoria (via HPC to avoid the road closures) wasn't too bad, but that was one ticket down the drain. And due to engineering work and other delays, there were big issues with services out of both Victoria and Waterloo. On to Clapham Junction, eventually getting a train homeward at 1420 (yup, that was running late too, though it made most of the time up, thankfully). Trip made much more bearable by a most excellent lunch courtesy of Jen. Eventually home just after four. And relax.....at least until I go to work, er, today.....
PS: Pun of the weekend, at the Hungry Horse pub on the A19, plugging their desserts. 'Cake Me Out'. They're not kidding, huge portions there
!! Positively balmy in comparison to the Felpham ride apparently 
