Fat lad Rides the Thorpe Tickler Again

I've actually been out twice since I last wrote but this real life crap really does keep getting in the way!

Tuesday night rolled round like it always does and a few posts on the Bad Brains forum later fellow rider Chip decided he would be joining the Morley Master-class. Turning up at my gaff at 7 all three of us got ready to go. Roachy and I rolled over to Chip's car waiting to set off. “I've not put my lamps on tonight there still charging in my garage, am I gonna need them?” Chip asked. “You'll be reet” Roachy replied.

So with everyone suited, booted and with Chip riding with just a Petzl head torch and a commuter light we set off proper into the rainy night. We set off with a good pace and hit the first climb, the short steep cobbles past the chippy (Mmmm fish and chips....) and with a certain amount of glee I flew up the hill this time without losing my chain!

Back onto the road Chip and Roachy got further into the distance as I got cut up at a roundabout, catching up I flew past them waiting for me and we whizzed on to the off road cut off point. Off the tarmac we followed the gentle climb upwards looking over the night view of Morley keeping up the good pace as we went.

Across the duel carriage way and onto the field to Thorpe we actually took the right path this time and slogged through the deep mud. Following the deep tyre tractor tracks across the fields Chip tried to transfer from the left to the right rut and fell off spectacularly into Roachy’s back wheel loosening most of the spokes. The only way I could possibly describe it is that it looked like someone had nailed chips wheels to the floor and then pushed him sideways! I couldn’t help but giggle.

Everybody recovered we rode onwards and down Thorpe lane, cutting off left dodging the burnt out cars and broken glass that is the scenic joy of lower Middleton. The tracks here, while not singletrack nirvana, do roll quite nicely and in our giddy pedalling we nearly missed the turn off. We turned round at cruised down the track to meet the road and I shouted that I needed 5. (Well I did. I was knackered. This whole reasonably quick pace thing was fecking me good and proper). During the gossiping we noticed that Chip’s right hand shifter pod had been nicely split in half and his bell (!) destroyed by Roachy’s rear wheel. Again I couldn’t help but giggle.

Setting off again we cruised round the White Rose centre roads the wrong way round freaking out all who saw 3 grown men head to toe in mud with very bright lights. We cut up onto the footpath known as the gravel stream. I’ve spoke about the “gravel stream” in another post before now and suffice to say it’s not very nice to ride downhill. So when we did it uphill…….. fecking hell and I didn’t manage to finish it without pushing is all I will say on the matter. Off the gravel stream and onto the path parallel to railway track my rear tyre turned to s slick with all the mud and for all my trying I couldn’t get my bloody left foot clipped in. So… that bit was not fun. But on the plus side the crossing boards over the railway track have been finished.

With a just a small amount of glee, we were ascending the last climb of the night, with gritted teeth, much swearing and burning legs and lungs I made it too the top. Despite the fact it was pissing it down we stood there for a while gossiping like old women and setting the world to rights. When the cold crept it’s way back in to our muscles we decided to make our way back home.

Good Ride

Fat Lad

Fat Lad Rides the Thorpe Tickler

Apologies for the length of time between posts but you know how it is; sometimes real life gets in the way.... So any ways, back in the mists of time Roachy and I decided it was time to find some more routes for our Tuesday night rides and on that strength we decided to use a weekend ride for a recon blast.

We agreed to meet at 9 at my humble abode and so when Roachy turned up at a quarter to we were both shocked and surprised to find I was ready! At a decent pace (for a Sunday morning) we set off making our way to our first climb; a short but very steep cobbled path that cuts a fair bit of road off the route. Things were starting off good and I was giving it a good go until the chain came off onto the spokes trying to reach the lowest gear on the cassette and twatting my knee on the handlebar. Maybe not so good after all.

The next mile and a half was road to the cut off point and it was nice to be off the tarmac and onto the trails proper. We followed the path past the farm and across the back of the industrial estate gossiping as we went and also lamenting about all the land that both he and I had played on as kids that was now new housing. We crossed the dual carriage way eventually to get onto some more trails and carried on to Thorpe lane. We flew down Thorpe lane and cut off down the back of Middleton dodging burnt out cars and broken glass all the way.

We came out across from the White Rose and followed a track that I hadn't ridden for years (and judging by the state of it neither had anyone else). It was a narrow path running parallel to a stream with a lot of overgrown thorn bushes and the surface was that awful slippy mud that's almost impossible to get any traction on. After a short distance we were out of Nam and back onto open fields and the last few miles to home.

On the final climb of the day the hill seemed to be getting even harder to go than usual and with a few muttered blue words I looked backed and confirmed my suspicion of a puncture. Less than a mile from home as well. Feck. After wrestling a thorn out of my tyre (it need the pliers from my Leatherman) and replacing the tube we finished the climb and parted company at the road.

Back home I rinsed the bike down lubed the chain and man handled it into the cellar. Getting as nekkid as the day I was born in the kitchen I flung my filthy kit into the washer and dashed upstairs flesh wobbling all the way to the shower. Singing badly to the Snow Patrol CD I noticed something in my arm. Picking it out with a fingernail a thorn had worked its way through my rain jacket through my jersey and into my forearm. Nice. Still it will be a good ride for Tuesdays

Fat Lad

Fat Lad Rides the Outwood Overkill

So against my better judgement and common sense I decided to ride with Bad Brains guys last night. Roachy usually also rides these too but he was still doing his Bob the Builder bit and decided he was cracking on with the tiling of his bathroom.

So alone i drove to the meeting point and ended up there early. Makes a very nice change to my usual lateness. With a couple of new faces about I was gutted to find that none of the usual back marker fellas were present. I was going to be lonely. Uncle stAn (never have quite figured out why he writes it like that) lent me his spare Walkie-Talkie (ten four rubber ducky over) and that buoyed my confidence in not getting lost. We set off after the usual faffing about, at the Bad Brains Pacetm (i.e. Feckin fast) coming very quickly to a steep road descent that was just a bit quick. I was whizzing along the tarmac grinning like a loon when I suddenly realised that if I was descending this much I'd have to regain the altitude sooner or later. Damn. After the descent we got into the woods proper and the ride really began. I'll be completely honest when I ride with these guys I'm so busy trying to keep up that most of the ride blurs into a mixture of misery, pain and up hills, so when you finish another climb and turn a corner to see a dimly lit graveyard glowing in the night. A vision of macabre beauty it kind of sticks in your mind.

About two thirds of the way round and I'm really starting to flag and Steve piped up with the offer of a guided shortcut was too good to pass up. I followed Steve to a point where we would meet up with the rest and as Steve shot off to get changed and bring cake back to the pub I sat on a stone like Kermit on the stairs. I looked up and watched the awesome sight of the clouds racing across the evening sky.

I chased the guys for a bit further and at the top of a road climb I'd lost sight of them. I was fairly confident I knew where I was and as I crossed the road an old guy walking his dogs (I have a theory about dog walkers I'll explain another) asked if I was looking for the other “bikers” and then sent me completely the wrong fecking way. Stuck in the middle of a green of the local golf course I used the radio to call for Uncle stAn to come and rescue me. From there on we were on to the final off road climb of the night on a horrible sand/gravel mixture that had me pushing up the miserable fecker from early on.

My cycle computer clocked the ride at about eleven miles and to be fair at the pace I was trying to match it was two miles too much. I really need to do some more riding and build on my fitness. But still...... it was a giggle.

Fat Lad

Fat Lad Nearly Rides Somewhere

Sorry for not updating dear readers. (I'm fairly sure there's a few of you out there at least that's what the website stats are saying...) but it's because I've not ridden for a very very long time. Any danger of me calling the blog Thin Lad Rides Again have long since evaporated after Christmas and New Year..... too many pies and way too much ale! I was all fired up to go riding last night. Lights charged; yep. Kit washed; yep. Bike ready;yep. Roachy going out; nope. Well he could have done but as he's playing Bob The Builder and was tiling his bathroom last night he wouldn't have been able to shower afterwards. I thing Mrs Roachy would probably have kicked him out. Still I could have ridden by myself.................... yeah right. Still I'm supposed to be riding on Thursday with the Bad Brains guys maybe my one loyal reader could leave a comment and coax me out..........