showmethecakes Sun Apr 23, 2017 6:07 pm
There was a good variety of characters out including Ivan's personal trainer - Paul. Paying for a personal trainer is clearly worth its weight in gold as it soon became apparent that Ivan had been making a school boy error all these years. He's been obsessed with his weight to power ratio which has steadily been increasing over the years. Only now has it become clear that he should have been working on his power to weight ratio! He is also experimenting with compression wear to increase blood flow to all the vital organs. For those of you not familiar with current developments in sports science this was previously known as a corset.
Anyhow, I was glad to see Ivan's return as the pace of the bunch was going to be limited to something more leisurely. The 18mph up the A370 suited me fine apart from the fact that at the back of the bunch I was hitting more pot holes than a neurotic gardener. To improve matters I rode to the front but politely kept the speed down to about 19. Like North Korean diplomacy, Lofty, Neil and Nick seemed to misinterpret this as a hostile act and launched a ballistic missile up the road. Also like North Korea it fizzled out at Congresbury when we stopped to regroup and for Paul to fix a puncture.
Ivan was keen to stick to his training regime and said he would go on up the road at his own pace. The vast majority of riders then went with him to leave a small but select group ready to pace Paul back to the fold. However, unknown to Andy, Neil, Nine Pints, myself and Lofty, Paul had shot off down Yatton High Street after fixing his puncture to save time. As soon as this information filtered through to the DS Lofty set off to chase down the various groups up the road. Across Kenn Moor Lofty pulled us along at about 24's, I then took over for a bit before Andy went to the front. It was all going rather well but it soon became clear that Nine Pints had a team mate in the breakaway and when his turn on the front came he stalled the chase, reducing the speed down to 20's.
It didn't really matter in the end as Paul was waiting with group 2 at the end of Kenn Moor. We cheerily waved as we rode straight past them and on up the road to Nailsea. It all came together again shortly after and despite my earlier optimism I now doubted if we would catch the main group before Belmont. I needn't have worried as we soon joined a queue of slow moving traffic up the hill to Wraxall which could only mean one thing - there was some slow moving traffic up ahead. We then met up with Ivan and the whole group reassembled for the run up to Belmont.
There was the usual shananagans down Beggar Bush with what Ivan later described as something similar to a pro-tour sprint. The similarities being that there was a bunch of nutters on bikes spread 5 across the road trying to pedal fast. The similarities ending with the fact that there were no time bonuses on the line and no prize for coming first at the lights. In terms of suitable prizes I was thinking along the lines of pro-tour races such as when Tom Simpson won a cow for a stage finishing in a famous farming area and other riders picking up a years supply of cheese for crossing the line first in Comte or something. As Paul crossed the line first along Beggar Bush I think it only right and proper that he be offered a beggars bush for his own personal use.
In Clifton white van man was in evidence although in the gender neutral environment we currently live in I like to think of them as plonkers with honkers. You can still tell male and female drivers apart as the men generally have one large one while the women tend to go for a pair of honkers.
Paul led us through the back streets of Bristol via Gloucester, York, Chicago and New Dehli before arriving in Shirehampton (abbr. Shi'ton.). After a run down to Blaise Castle we re-grouped for the final run to the cafe. I couldn't say exactly where the cafe was as, according to Strava, the Dandy Highway reckons he went to Berkely, I thought it was Almondsbury and others thought it was some place called Morning Ride. Martin got closest by realising that the last place we passed through before the cafe was Over.
I can't fault the cafe staff for the slow service. After all it's not every day 16 fit young cyclists roll into your cafe demanding highly balanced cuisine for elite athletes. How was your full English Nick? Shame you forgot to order black pudding with it and I am surprised you turned down Paul's offer of some of his own home made stuff. While waiting Pete had 40 winks and was dreaming of scrambled eggs on toast. After 40 minutes he woke up to find his dream had come true! I don't think anyone went for a second course of scrambled eggs, or even a third course. Sometimes the thought of sloppy seconds or thirds just doesn't appeal. A cream slice might have been nice but I couldn't see any available.
I know the continentals bang on about their cafe culture but let's not do ourselves down here. We had informed discussion throughout our stay: Ivan - "Who sang that song?". Nine Pints, bang, straight in there with: "Bardot, 1982 Eurovision entry." followed by various impressions of Terry Wogan. Classy.
Not much happened on the way back. Some bunch of speed freaks decided to go as fast as they could on the run in to Avonmouth which was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday afternoon. It almost made riding through it bearable. A lot of us bagged top 10's on Strava before we slogged up over the bridge and onwards to Portishead. The pace was kept high all the way to Clevedon. Back across Kenn Moor we had the usual rant with the breakaway of myself, Lofty and Neil keeping the bunch at bay. Like a wayward horse in the grand national, Ivan's bike tried to veer to the right for an ice-cream in Yatton but good work with the reins pulled it straight and onwards to Congresbury.
Back at Weston, home of the Wheelers no less, the group split up and headed for home, content with their day out.
OJC: 3, TTCR: 8/10 (allowance made for slow service), KFC: 7/10, Mileage about 75.
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