showmethecakes Sun Oct 01, 2017 12:25 pm
Castle Cary
The annual pilgrimage to Castle Cary, home of the home made cake, was upon us one again. Ivan was already concerned about the distance and announced that he would be taking the shortcut from Churchill to Burrington to gain a couple of minutes advantage. Wayne who had not been feeling too well understandably followed prompting Martin to do a full u-turn on the A38 and join them. What a lightweight! He won't mind me saying that because he clearly is a lightweight. With advances in frame technology it won't be long before bicycles will weigh more than Martin.
Determined to keep the advantage down to as little as possible, Alex put a good effort in along the A38 and the bunch arrived at the bottom of Burrington just in time to see Ivan approaching from the other direction. He had the face of a man whose whole world had just caved in around him. His 'two minute advantage' had just turned into a 20 second deficit and the climb hadn't even started.
The pace kicked off a couple of times across the Mendips. Malcolm did a good job of pulling group two along with Ivan sitting last wheel. He did well to maintain that position up a short incline. I don't think I could ride, pant and swear all at the same time although Mrs W might have a different opinion on that. If I hadn't have been so knackered myself I would have fallen off laughing.
Jeannie got dropped on the descent into Shit'n and followed Malcolm and Alex as they turned right towards Wells. After realising her error she doubled back and then headed down the A37 towards Castle Cary. Clearly thinking she had gone wrong again she doubled back and this time headed towards Nunney only to realise she had gone wrong and went back to Shit'n. At least she had the sense to follow her nose. After all you can always sniff out Shit'n Smellit.
After a few veiled attempts at regrouping Neil and Andy shared the work all the way to Castle Cary. At the town square the MacMillan ladies had been hard at it. Buns had been in the oven and their wears were spread wide for all to see. Muffins, a nice bit of ginger some cream filled fairies and a moist drizzle. We eagerly tucked into the first course with no sign yet of Ivan, Wayne or Jeannie who had just completed her 86th mile and was still in Shit'n. Finally they arrived in dribs and drabs while we went back for seconds.
Just before leaving for home we read the local notices posted outside the market hall. Dance Choreography for Weddings caught the eye. A well qualified Mr Parsons, FISTD, UKAPTD, FIDTA, was running the session. Not sure if all the qualifications are necessary. I mean most of us know how to get hammered and smash your face on the floor while dad dancing at a wedding. There was some speculation as to how to get FISTD. For those who are interested this stands for Fellow of the Imperial Society of Teachers of Dancing and requires an examination of all relevant subject areas.
At Glastonbury Nine Pints tucked into his Cornish Pastie which had been cooking down Andy's bib shorts. Most of the gravy had stayed on the inside but some had clearly leaked out onto the pastry. Andy's backside had clearly been in on some kind of joke as it kept winking at us on the ride home. Either that or a baboon had escaped from the zoo. Might be time to add a new FAQ to the forum - why are Andy's shorts so see through? Answer, so he can tattoo a map of Somerset to his arse so Jeannie doesn't get lost again. What's the red glowing spot in the middle? That's your current location. Why has it just turned brown? That's gravy for Phil's pasty.
On the levels Neil turned off wanting to head home via Wedmore and Cheddar. Wanting to avoid hills Ivan then suggested we take the next right and do the same but everyone just ignored him and carried on. Then Wayne got a puncture. Ivan shouted to stop but everyone ignored him and carried on! I know people will say they didn't hear the shout but how many other people in the middle of the levels are going to be shouting out 'puncture!'. After a short delay we headed up Daggs Lane and across to Mudgely. No sign of anyone waiting so we turned towards Wedmore to avoid the impending rain to the west. Within about 30 seconds we rode into the rain. Great!
At Cheddar Nick flew past up the Axbridge by-pass. He was hoping he might catch us having left about 2 hours later. Insane.
OJC: 3, TTCR: 9/10, KFC: 8/10.
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