L2P 2012

Nasty weather this year. Heavy showers, strong headwind = extra thick crust of road muck &  wankered headset bearings. Still, great fun, group 3 rode well & tight. Highlight - Nice hotel in Amiens again. And Pierre Herme macaroons in Paris. Lowlight - crappy Holiday Inn in Calais with throbbing music till 4am. I wish I had a picture of the macaroons, but we ate them too quickly.

Lotta bikes

Calais War-Faces

Cold. Wet. Windy.

Insouciant. For sure.

The Piglet

Last weekend I became the proud builder of a mountain bike. Six months it took. I owned one before, a long time ago, during my second year at university. It was only mine for two weeks before it got stolen. I'd parked it carelessly, in a rush to get my end away with the girlfriend of the time. A Kona Lava Dome, with odd sized wheels. Probably just as well. Probably a fair exchange.

Now, I'm really a road cyclist, with excursions into cyclocross. Last year's Marin Roughride made me think though. Is a modified road bike the best way to go cross country? Why is everyone else on an MTB? Why do I put up with skinny tyres and an inability to brake? Why do they point and throw stones at me? That last Roughride, in the freezing rain of a Welsh June morning, sliding backwards down the muddy campsite, I had an epiphany. I was decided. I would build my own MTB. 

I'd have nowhere to put it, but I had been scoping my recently retired father-in-law's garage, engineering-expertise, and comprehensive collection of tools. Job done. In minutes months, the job was done, and the bike was complete.

Pearson 150 2012

Since the weather was only going to be freezing and windy, Mark from RCCC suggested it would be worth riding the Pearson after all. Then Kevin texted to say he'd be around, did I still fancy it? Plus I'd paid my entry. I was trapped. I also needed to get some miles in for the L2P. Dreams of a Sunday lie-in lay shattered. In desperation, I asked my wife if she'd go in my place, but she was asleep. I shook her gently, and she affectionately punched me in the face. No joy there. I struggled to find my cycling clobber. The only socks were thick and woolly hiking efforts. My only windcheater day-glo and leery. A shot of coffee and I was ready.

RCCC Breakaway Group

     After a late start, we maintained a good pace, keeping close together. Mark zoomed ahead on the climbs, in the big ring, like Contador on amphetamines. On the level Kevin kept up a slave driver's pace. Despite the strong wind, it was a relief to take a turn in front just to slow him down. Compared to those two, my riding powers were more relaxed, so I took on the role of directeur sportif, suggesting frequent piss-breaks and scenic rest-stops - Brighton pier for a donkey ride and photo op, a snooze on top of Ditchling beacon, that sort of thing. As a result our time looks perhaps middling. The fact is though, only two types of rider were out that day - the really tough, and the pros, and I wanted to make sure no one was burned out for the coming season. I take my responsibilities seriously.

The PostIt Chicken

Can't help but feel I'm easily distracted. Check out the chicken:

Three Peaks Cyclocross Race 2010

Well, finally had time to put some words down about my first Three Peaks Cyclocross. Crickey, it was pretty tough, bollock breaking hard in fact, but massive fun, I will definitely do it again. I took it fairly easy, it being my first time, although some of my fundraisers seemed a little disappointed by my pedestrian performance. F's boss in particular asked why, if he could run 2/3 the distance in 2/3 the time, I needed a bicycle.

This was my answer: Firstly, he is incredibly fit. Even on a flat road, it would be a difficult to beat his running times, using only a human powered vehicle.

Secondly, a rather vicious looking girl, on what looked like a tricycle, forced me off my bike just after the start. As a result I skinned my knee. Obviously I couldn’t carry on till it stopped hurting, and I ended up towards the end of the pack. I tried to get her number, intending to report her to the marshals for riding an illegal vehicle, but she was just too fast, even with the tassels on her handlebars.

Thirdly, due to nerves and over-hydration, just before the first hill I was bursting to answer the call of nature. This was against the advice of other competitors, who told me to wait, and right they were. When I’d finished, I found I was amongst the last in line to get to the top. It’s single file and you pull yourself up by a wire fence for the final yards, whilst the rider in front hits you in the face with their back wheel, and you do the same to the rider behind. If there is one. Maybe I was hitting myself.

Finally, stopping at each peak and getting the dibbers to take a photo of me perhaps did not help improve my times.

Looking at other competitors' split times, if all this hadn't happened, I would have been at least five or six places up, with the associated possibility of running into other racers. This would have been a dangerous thing, especially after the tricyclista, so it's all for the best really.

Anyway, it was a great deal of hard work and a great deal of fun. Knowing that I'd have fundraisers on my back if I did not complete the race kept me going, as did my fantastic race support.

So where to start with the pictures? The morning I suppose. Here's me, wasting time checking my phone:

Fiona did a great job of getting me together, and the Craven Arms had left plenty of juice, bread, jam plus cereal. Peeking through the curtain, it looked as if it would be a lovely day, and indeed it was. Here's the view of Pen-Y-Ghent from Helwith bridge:

Pen-Y-Ghent from Helwith

Dialling that bike in

At the start

Ingleborough photo-op

Going up Whernside - that's what it's about! Thanks Tim Fisher.

Up Whernside! Wahey!

Ribblehead. Wa. Hey. Rider support made me eat a banana. This was a good thing.

Off to Pen-Y-Ghent

 Top of Pen-Y-Ghent. Still not having any fun, honest...

Down Pen-Y-Ghent. No brakes.

Further down... Thanks Martin Henson for both of those.

Finished. Time for a pose.

Dirty bike.

Muddy posterior.

Muddy shoes.

Will post more when I get a moment. Note it would appear that someone called Dave Haygarth has linked to this post, even before it was properly cooked. Check out his blog for some more entertaining stuff on the Three Peaks, as well as actual useful advice.

For the scientifically minded, here is a link to my satnav track:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/50935492

Bedford Real Run

Well, the day finally came. Having practised all night playing Grand Theft Auto, I was sure to get second, or at worst third place. Of course I had also planned the flight carefully, making sure to remove any dependency on Satnav or other artificial devices, as per my previous post. Today would be about sheer guts and skill.

08:30 Ben turned up bright and early, and we set off for Earle's Colne, to pick up a machine to fly to Bedford.

09:00 Ben and I seemed to be stuck in traffic, somewhere near Clapton.

09:30 Ben and I seemed to be stuck in traffic, somewhere near Clapton.

10:00 Ben and I seemed to be stuck in traffic, somewhere near Clapton.

11:00 We made it to Earles Colne. Simon had left the keys with the folks there, who seemed unfamiliar with the Rules of the Air, and it took a bit of persuading to give me the documents for the machine. In the event of a crash, they said, there would be nothing left. And also that they would be closing at 6pm, after which we'd be landing on our own.

11:30 Realised we'd have to push the machine out of the hangar, and have to put the handling wheels on first.

12:30 A nice flight, good Basic Service from Farnborough, and no mess ups from me. Ben took a bunch of photos, the one below sums it up:

It took about an hour to get there. A circuit to see where was good to land, and I plopped the machine down on an H. A lady turned up in a car to take us to reception and lunch was.

The food was quite nice. We checked out the crowd - it was all of us, Simon's heli crowd, versus two or three groups on corporate outings.

Bedford Dry Run

No cycling this weekend. Saturday I'd arranged a practice flight from Earls Colne to Bedford for a fly in/track-day in July. Sunday The Lady BumpyConstant's folks are over, so I'll be busy coming up with something to cook - I'm thinking steak and ale pie. I will supply a recipe after the fact.

The area is congested airspace, near the Stansted CTA, so lots of radio work if I don't want to become an infringer. There were a few restrictions NOTAM'd on the day, including an RAF flyby directly over Bedford, so I'd be zigging-zagging, and possibly flying inverted in a 4-g dive at some point. A good day for using Satnav to keep me out of trouble.

The morning arrived blustering and showery, but MacReady would have gone up. I headed out from London and met up with Simon at Earls Colne. He was his usual positive, professional self, and after a brief discussion over the screaming wind, we decided it was all go. I threw together an old-school plan using the whizz wheel, rulers and pens, just for the fun of it. Satnav's great these days though, so I wouldn't really need it.

Bottom right to top left then back. Avoid pink and red bits. Don't hit anything.

In numbers.

Once done we had coffee, then tanked up. Immediately after it blasted rain down, so we played around with the Satnav. We'd be relying on it in this crummy weather.

I'll have 100LL then.

Never too wet for MacReady.

Soon enough the shower passed, I continued the checklist, Simon fiddled with the Satnav, and the O-320 fired up. The strong wind meant only a touch of collective needed to hover. T's & P's were green, a brief 'Whisky Delta departing north', and I pushed forward to take us up. Aloft I clearly saw the bands of rain streaming down from the north. More zig-zagging required, and it was great to be back up again. 

I mostly avoided the showers, and when I couldn't, grannying through with my eyes closed worked best for me. I requested Basic Service off Farnborough and dialled in the transponder code, whilst Simon fiddled some more with the Satnav, which finally broke it. Back to the chart and dead reckoning. Satnav's overrated anyway, I'm sure Macready would never have used it.

The old Bedford aerodrome. Don't land on any cars.

A successful landing.