The Lazy Way Out

I’ve had a knackering day. 60 miles averaging 13.4 or something, throwing myself at the ups and riding with the Household Cyclist, coming home and going to work to cover for my not quite ex boss. All I can think about is a sandwich, a nice glass of red, the ache in my legs and my bed. I can only say I’m sad to say I haven’t the energy to straighten my head and tell you all about it. Tomorrow is the Wansbeck Cycling Club race ( link in my sidebar) which I will be watching with the Junior Cyclist. If you come back tomorrow evening you can be enthralled by it then.

Until then I leave you this. Fellow Vag Mark did not ride with us today, he had somewhere to be and rode out later on his own. He’s just sent me an email saying he’s had a rather bizarre day and could he tell you about it? Well he can…..

Skipping Gears. Bouncing Jublies and Hypnotic Buttocks. OH MY!

Dear gentle reader you are about to be told a story of how one man and his bike went far far down the rabbit hole. It is full of adventure, fair maidens and evil nemeses; so dear reader if you have a head for adventure then read on but be forewarned here be dragons.

The day started like any other day our intrepid hero over slept which he is wont to do. He clambered out of his sty and shuffled downstairs and made some breakfast. Then it was time to kit up and take the bikes to the hospital where they would be mended and cared for ready to do battle again. Number one bike had her new chain assembled and a quick run around the block showed all to be well. Number two bike was left in the capable hands of Mr Breeze Snr. Our hero set of from Amble, he had a whole day and a route in his head. Nothing was going to stop him. He hit Acklington then felton swung left after the bridge and started the climb to Swarland. Things now started to go wrong, the bike would now only give 1st gear reliably. 2nd and 3rd were shot 4th was iffy and the leggs refused to go up in anything higher. The ride was stopped to do repairs, the barrel adjusters were tightened but to no avail. There was no way that he was turning back home after only 12 or so miles. So they plodded on together eventually reaching Swarland while all the time cursing the slow speed of the climbs. At Swarland he admired the scenery and swung left after the avenue and then took a wrong turn and ended in Longframlington instead of Whittingham.

The journey to Rothbury passed without event and eventually they arrived in Thropton where they had a rest as the legs were protesting. He texted Carrie to let her know that he was still alive and to feel connected to the world outside this remote place. After a suitable hiatus they continued on there way eventually dropping down into the fabled national park. Our hero had a wry grin on his face as he crossed the stone bridge with the little national park sign on it. He thought to himself “ this is the furthest west I have ever been, after 3 years of trying I have finally made it to the park.” He then rode past signs of warning that said you may die if you find bits of metal, explosions and archeological interest. He did not take head as he was struggling to maintain a good speed, his average had dropped to under 12mph by now. He saw a sign saying Elsdon 6 miles, alarm bells started to ring. “Are we not per chance getting a tad close to Bilsmoor” he thought in a Boltonesque voice. Indeed he was, how would he cope agains this much talked about nemesis, he was about to find out. Time passed and eventually the signs read Bilsmoor foot and the intrepid pair knuckled down and started their journey down the rabbit hole. At the base of the climb a red car overtook our pair, the girl on the passenger side turned round and waved. Our hero nodded politely, he was too concerned with keeping his forward momentum going to wave. The pair rounded the 1st corner, no summit drat, then the next again no summit. Our hero fixed his steely gaze on the front tire in an attempt to hide from the hill. He then stupidly looked up to see the summit looming ahead and the monster gradient he was about to tackle. Then he noticed something odd, the red car from the start had pulled over by the gate and the two girls in it were now standing in the road. He got closer, legs fading fast. The girls started to cheer and egg him on. His legs were like lead he rocked from side to side trying to get enough force to turn the peddles. He drew closer. The girl on the left was fiddling aound her back, she looked at her friend who seemed to nod in aggreement. He drew closer. With one swift movement, Woosh, there tops were lifted and their Jublies were there for all to behold. Our hero was shocked to say the least. They then started jumping up and down. Our hero pushed harder, he thought it would be impolite to do otherwise. By this point he was burying himself and hyper ventilating as the sight of dancing jublies had put him into a fit of hysterics. He got to the top and said thank you, the girls then each put a hand on his back and ran him down the other side. He felt like he had won a mountain top stage, then cursed himself for not having a helmet cam as no one would believe him.

On reaching Elsdon the obligatory Cafe stop was taken. Hot chocolate, egg and cress sandwiches and chocolate cake was imbued and imbibed. It seemed to our hero that this particular chocolate cake seemed to have half a cadburys factory strewn on the top. It was however welcomed with great gusto.

Now suitably fed and watered and with bidons fully laden he set of to tackle the next big hill around the corner. Upon clearing the bottom 3rd he noticed a pair of horses ahead. One of which seemed a little skittish. Now our hero, for all he is a great and just hero, is rather scared of horses. Well when I say rather I should probably say ‘wants to scream like a girl near one kind of scared’. The bike swings far over to the right into the gutter zone where the P fairy resides. The horse spooked, reared up and kicked the road making an all mighty clang. Our hero found the will to hold his bodily fluids in and summoned enough energy to get in front and pull away.

Around the next two bends they go and the altimeter keeps going up. The nice peaceful serenity is broken by some wheezing and spluttering from behind. Our hero looks behind to see a man on a road bike nearly dying and seemingly having an uncanny fixation on our heros buttocks. The dyanmic duo clear the summit and they slow to take on fluids. The other rider pulls along side and remarks “You have really hypnotic buttocks, they really helped me up that last bit of the climb. Thanks” And then vanishes as easily as he appeared. Out hero was stunned and didnt know what to make of it. This was proving to be an interesting day at least.

The road started to drop and the bike hopped into the big chain ring and top gear and cruised down at 35mph all the way to the cambo road. The average speed was now back up to 12.1 mph.

It was decided to head for Forrest burn gate but on crossing the old railway line this motion was overruled by the legs and they dropped down to Scots gap. Quick left and a right and they were flying average speed was going up again, a thought started to form. “You can get that up to 13 you know if you stop being lazy”. The belly disagreed as it screamed for food. The legs however took it as a challenge. Click, 19mph , click click, 25 mph. Holding it, breathing hard, not changing down for the small bumps. The pair were doing everything they could to get that speed up. On passing Kirkly Hall and failing to corner, resulting in a near miss with a hedge, the speed was up to 12.7 mph. By Shilvington it was 12.8 mph, the hill to the Stannington turn off dropped it to 12.7. Nooo the pair cried but they had nothing left to give. They cruised down the hill rounded the corner and decided “sod it” and went for it again taking the next hill in the big chain ring. By the Bottom of Stannington station they were at 13mph. Top of Nedderton bank no change, sprinting now for the roundabout, screamed round it cornering hard and knee down. Up past the school at 19mph, click 18mph, click click 16mph. Bank left at the red lion. Roundabout clear, check, click click click bomb it down oiver the roundabout. Car tries to over take but the pair dont budge. The car has to break heavily to stop crashing into central island. The police car behind then nicks him for speeding.

Down past the swan cruise up the hill, drop into granny gear for the rest of it. Our hero fatigued collapses onto the handle bars. He looks at the computer 13.1, he sits up and stretches. Theres no way hes going to let that slip. The pair belt of through Choppington and Guide Post and eventually, with legs on fire, swing into their estate. The average was now 13.2 mph. They let out a Whoop of joy.

The bike was given a good night kiss and lovingly put to bed. Our hero went and had a hot bath still grinning at the thought of dancing jublies.

For the stats junkies

Distance: 67.32 miles

Average speed: 13.2mph

Calories burnt: 4671

Total climbed: 3967 feet

Explore posts in the same categories: Friends, General randomness, Guests, Tyneside Vagabonds

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One Comment on “The Lazy Way Out”

  1. notthewowy Says:

    but have you learned your lesson and cleaned your bike first?

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