Here comes the rain again

Two rides to report this weekend and although neither could be classed as canal training, valuable lessons were learned!

The first was on Saturday. It was meant to be a training ride for the canal with just myself and Keith deciding to go and it was meant to be early, but when my alarm went at 07:00 and I wearily rose and looked outside I felt like I'd been transported overnight to the subcontinent in monsoon season! The heavens were wide open, the rain was torrential and I may even have seen a cow blow by the window! (Not really).

I was determined that this unfortunate turn of events was not going to stop me and I so I waited until 08:00 before sending Keith a message. "Up for it?" read the text, but even as I pressed send, I knew what the response would be! Two minutes later and the phone rang. "Morning!" I answered, "Are you mental?" came the reply. "Yep, fair enough" I thought but pressed on in the vain hope that if I could persuade Keith to go out in the East Lancashire version of a biblical flood, then I really should go out myself. "It's not that bad" I ventured but Keith was sensibly adamant, "Not a f***ing chance" he replied. To his credit Keith did agree to go out eventually, but on a local, tarmac based ride. We agreed to disagree and decided to wait to see what the following morning would bring, there was a chance that we would go to Coed Llandegla in North Wales with Nick and Ash to experience the trails there for the first time.

Later that day however, the rain had gone and the sun came shining through. I called Keith again and asked whether that local ride was still an option and 30 minutes later we were off. We didn't really count on the fact that the wind was as strong as ever and we were intending on riding up hills. The higher we got, the stronger the wind got. When we eventually made it to the top of a local hill called 'Black hill' (which is neither Black, nor a hill but a brown mini-mountain) the wind was so strong that pedalling slightly downhill became hard work!

The rest of the ride was fairly uneventful apart from a comedy moment where we rode through a field where a seemingly lost Jack Russell terrier barked and growled at us as we rode past then stopped to open a gate before riding through. The sight of 2 grown men opening a gate as hastily as possible while laughing nervously was probably somewhat pathetic!

With Nick being unable to contact Ash for the rest of that day, we decided not to bother going to Wales on the following morning and to take a trip to Lee Quarry in Bacup where we'd been a few times before.

Sunday morning dawned and there was no rain, nor was there a wind! Result!

Nick arrived at 08:00 (These early starts are getting out of hand!) as did Keith and 5 minutes later Nick's van was loaded up. At this point I suppose I should make mention of my futile attempt to stop my new pride and joy from being scratched on the journey by placing an old tablecloth between Keith’s and my new bike as I tied them to the shelves in the back of Nicks van. In doing so I accidentally let go of the Bungee Cord when it was at full stretch and the hook on the end spun around and hit the top bar and created a nice centimetere long gouge. For F***’s sake …..

We made it to the quarry and unloaded. This was Nick's first attempt as riding off-road with his new SPD shoes and clipless pedals. For the uninitiated, these are the kind that fasten the rider to the bike. Typically when a rider takes on this feat for the first time, hilarity ensues. Inevitably, two minutes later, hilarity ensued.

Nick, experiencing an almost Zen feeling of being at one with his bike seemingly forgot that he was attached to it and joyously pulled a wheelie while riding uphill on rocky ground at 1 or 2 mph. I like to think that right then, somewhere in the world, at that moment, someone put one palm to the side of their mouth and cried "Timberrr!". Nick fell sideways, and being unable to twist his foot in time to unclip himself from his new body part, the first bit of human to hit the floor was elbow. In an unfortunate twist of fate, Nick had decided that this stunt would be best performed on the edge of a ditch. Sacks of spuds have been known to move more gracefully! Throughout this barrell roll, there was a look on his face of utter confusion in not being able to stick out a leg to stop himself. Once he came to rest, on his back, he groaned, but ironically was no longer attached to his pedals. Keith and I hooted with laughter. That’s what mates do, laugh first, then ask about injuries once your breath has returned. There were none so we laughed again. Thankfully Nick laughed too as despite his trip into a ditch in a quarry, no sharp edges had broken either his or his bikes skins. Lucky bugger!

Despite the fact that we're supposed to be training for an feat of endurance, our location and the next 3 hours of riding meant that we actually only covered about 8 miles. There were a lot of hills involved and quite a few periods of standing around watching while one or another of us attempted either 'drop offs' or jumps. I’ll admit to possibly being the least daring on this occasion as I'm not yet totally confident in my new steed and the rocks and mud were generally fairly slippy.

We watched one brave soul ride virtually sideways down something that none of us would have attempted walking down, and when he hit the bottom at full speed, he fell off and stopped dead. 20mph to zero in an instant. He too rolled around on the floor a bit but after thirty seconds or so, was up and on his bike again. Impressive!

For the rest of the morning we generally larked about like children and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. By the time Keith reads this, I wouldn't be surprised if he too is the owner of a new bike. We both decided to get one around the same time and after these last two rides, I think Keith is even more eager to splash the cash!

Lessons learned this weekend:

1. Don’t count on English weather.
2. SPD's and clipless pedals? er, no.