showmethecakes Sun Apr 30, 2017 8:47 pm
What better way to celebrate the end of the Spring Classics than a trip to Frome, home of the cobbled climb. Best bikes were our for this one. Even Wayne was down to his last layer of prehistoric mud. It was all very calm and sedate up Burrington and over the top of the Mendips. At Rocky Mountain a handful of riders pulled over for the short option. Like last week, Ivan's steed was succumbing to peer pressure and started to follow the others. However, just like in pro races his DS, Paul, came alongside and in a kind and supportive way said: "Your not going in there you're coming with us".
The pace was kept reasonably steady to hold the group together across to Frome. I knew there was one fast descent coming up but for the life of me I couldn't place where it was. That was until Ivan suddenly regained his mojo and took off over the crest of a hill. Before you could say 'Who's a lucky boy then' Neil shot past me as well. This must be it I thought. I started to wind the speed up but misjudged how fast Steve 'The Fit One' was travelling. I ended up cruising around a blind left hander on the wrong side of the road before plummeting down the dip. "Bridge to engine room - more power needed". "I canna giver her any more captain!" came the reply. I didn't matter, KOM in the bag.
After a few more fast sections we rolled into the home of the Veggi Sausage. Now whenever I mention a new bike to Mrs W she always says "They don't grow on trees you know". I beg to differ. There was clearly one dangling from the tree in the cafe courtyard. Ivan was also playing matchmaker when he locked his and Ade's bikes in a dark shed for about an hour. Normally it's the rider that pants at the end of a hard ride but a few strange noises and the tell tale signs of cigarette smoke wafting out the shed door tell a different story. Give it 9 months Ade and you might be the proud father of a new baby Raleigh.
We thought about putting Jeannie's bike on the roof but judging by the look we got it's probably going to be less of a struggle getting her on the roof. Lance Armstrong was famed for 'The Look' but just check out Neil's photo on Strava. "Cappucino!". Thought I'd chuck that in there as no one ever pays any attention when it is called out at the cafe.
After leaving the cafe we struggled up the 50 metres of cobbles that set this ride apart from any other. I would have joined in the ride up the cobbles but my cleats had clipped into the cracks in the pave. At the top we marveled at all the toys in the toy shop like kids in a sweet shop. We then marveled at all the sweets in the sweet shop like kids in a toy shop. We then marveled at all the sexy underwear in the fashion shop like a bunch of dirty pervs.
The run in to Shitt'n was fraught with many incidences of poor driving. On at least three occasions a motorist tried to pass a line of us on the wrong side of a solid white line heading straight for oncoming traffic. Eventually we pulled in to a layby to wait for a couple of stragglers. While waiting things got rather touchy feely when R2 started to feel my rim for roughness. Martin then poked R2's rear end to see how much give there was. Quite a lot as it turns out as the disc wheel was just an ordinary wheel disguised in a couple of sheets of carbon fibre.
After Shitt'n the rant was on as three riders set off towards Wells. While they slogged it out into the wind the rest of us enjoyed a leisurely 28 mph behind a kind motorist. When the group eventually came back together we swept through Croscombe bagging many top 10's on Strava and another KOM - Kerching.
Probably would have had a good time to Wells if we hadn't had to stop at the most pointless set of temporary traffic lights ever. No cones, no holes, no workmen, nothing. Just two traffic lights about 10 metres apart on a normal bit of road. Grrr.
Martin clearly took out his frustrations running in to Wells at 52kph. Kerching, KOM.
After Wells Jeannie kept a good speed until Ivan spoiled the party by bombing past at 25's. After a short burst Neil took over and did a long pull on the front before handing over to R2. As the speed began to drop a little, R2 did the honourable thing and pulled over to let me on the front. As the road went up a slight incline I decided I would spend all my energy keeping the pace nice and high over the bump and then pull off like everyone else. When I pulled over I looked back to see Nine Pints about 15 metres behind. Well there was no point in stopping so I just carried on up the road until the others caught up. Just as it all came together again guess what. "Cappucino!". No, that would be stupid. Another bloody set of traffic lights! After an enforced period of recovery we set off again for Wells and eventually whittled the group down to just four for the final run in with the others not far behind. In Wells Ivan popped to the shop for 20 fags and some Red Bull to see him home. Again, ever the true professional he'd shown signs of fatigue all day but I was buggered if I could catch him down the road through Locking.
As we said farewell we commented on what a great ride it had been and how we didn't actually feel that bad despite the high speed return journey. I smiled and sprinted off round the corner before collapsing over my top tube and plodding on home.
And no, I am not going to mention the delightful young woman in Shitt'n who was clearly an Asset Manager. There is always a risk that assets might move down as well as up but she clearly had everything expertly pinned down (and out).
OJC: 2, TTCR: 6/10 (expensive and Ade is still trying to work out what meat was in his sausage), KFC: 8.5/10.
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