Fat Lat Rides the Return Of the Rodley Roamer

First canal ride of the year. Half an hour to pack the bleeding car for a ten mile(ish) ride.... still beats riding there and back as well which is what Roachy would have me doing if he could....

Setting off from my place Pete and Shiela followed us down in their car negotiating the Leeds Ring Road with my usual automotive finesse. At Rodley we unpacked with little fuss and we were off.

The Rodley Roamer is a flat, big ring pedal of a ride. Pete and Roachy wizzed along at a fair old pace up with Sheila and I trailing in the distance. Into the woods for the only climb of the night and I was going big guns, as the climb turned the corner it got very boggy and hard work but I made it. I would have felt immensly proud if it wasn’t for the overwhelming fight to keep my meal in my stomach and not deposit it on the trail.

After my walking in circles to keep my food down we were off again. On the top path which isn’t rideable at the best of times Shiela end up tangled in a tree and Roachy over the bars.

Now when we first set off from the car I managed to snap the cable ties holding on my front mud guard. “You’ll not need your mudguards tonight, it’ll be dry out there” were Roachy’s words of wisdom. Well he was wrong. Really really wrong. It was bleeding boggy to say the least. As in 6” deep sections of gloop most of the way back down to the canal, with the final part of the path like Dagobah itself.

On the other side of the gate, we all agreed that if Roachy ever said it was not going to be muddy to us again he’d recieve a collective slap. From there on it was towpath all the way and to the pub on the for a swift one before home.

Fat Lad

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Fat Lad (and Mrs Fat Lad) ride the Sherwood Pines Shuffle

Mrs Fat Lad likes riding. But her day job is more like a all-bleedin-day-and-most-of-the-evening-and-a-good-proportion-of-the-weekend job. So when the opportunity to go out riding on the weekend together we jump on it. The initial plan was to set of 9ish am, so when we set off at 11am, a fine Fat Lad tradition was continued. (The bed was sooo warm and comfy I was going nowhere until I was damned well ready).

So with the hearse packed we were ready to go. I'm not the best driver in the world so with my current vehicle currently missing a spare wheel I took it steady on the journey to Nottingham. It was a pleasant change not to get lost, but that because my better half was doing all the navigating in between mocking my driving skills and telling me how much she was looking forward to the ride.

Like I said, I'm not a great driver and I don't particularly enjoy the experience usually but with fantastic company and a soundtrack of Levellers and The Dead Pets all the way there it made a pleasant change.

When we landed we unpacked the hearse got ready and scooted over the route board to see what we fancied doing. Mrs Fat lad suggested the green route and off we went. The paths there are the same managed bridleways that you get in any Forestry Commission site and roll really well. We pootled round and before we knew it we were back at the start. With a little breather for Mrs Fat Lad and we decided we'd have crack at the blue route as well. In the blue route there is only really one climb and after making the ascent we both stopped for a little rest and to play about with the camera. (Soon to be in the gallery). About half way round the blue route my better half started to flag so we decided to take the shortcut and head back to base. With the end in sight a clicking that I’d been trying to figure out where it was coming from suddenly became a lot louder and annoying. Turns out to be a very loose spoke. Good job we turned back early, being a ahem larger fella loose spokes can cause funny shaped wheels quickly.

Back at the start I got the very nice gents at Sherwood Pines Cycle Centre to tighten my spoke and true the wheel which they did for a very reasonable price indeed. Stood around waiting for the wheel to be fixed I noticed the unmistakable smell of chips. Me and Mrs Fat Lad decided that in the interests of cosmic balance we should consume all the calories we had managed to burn on the trail in the centre’s cafe.

Mmmmmm cheesy chips. Food of the gods. I shall say no more. (only because typing this is making me hungry!)

With sliced fried potato and the rest lining our bellies it was back into the hearse for more good music, company and really god awful driving.

I was so tremendously proud of Mrs Fat lad I don’t think I can put words on the screen to describe the sheer joy and pride of seeing her combat her own fitness demon and not give up even when the pain starts.

I Love You Sarah

Fat Lad

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Fat Lad Rides The Pete Pootle Once More

So as Tuesdays are obliged to do, it rolled round once more. Quick phone call to Pete on the Monday night and we decided to do the Pete Pootle again.

Short blast to Pete and Shiela’s place and waiting to set off I was happy to be feeling much much better than last week.

All ready, we pedalled off down the main road and at the first off road part, with some glee I might add, I noticed that I’d finally (after much fettling) got that left feckin pedal working.

At the top of the first climb I found Pete trying in vain to wheely. Now I can’t wheely for toffee either (especially not with clipless pedals) but I used to ride with a guy who can. Vinny (hello if your out there mate!) could Wheely for England and in all honesty was sickeningly talented on a bike. I mentioned this to Pete and through a long story involving a Unicycle and a guy called Titch (you couldn’t make this shit up) it turned out he knew him too. Small old world.

Down past the chapel and again I didnt make the short steep climb. I couldn’t blame the pedal this time. Errmm, it was, errr, yeah, wrong kind of sunlight. That’s it bad light. Bad light stopped me from making that climb. Not a general lack of technique and fitness, oh no. Bad light.

Onwards and upwards we circled the reservoir again. When I got to the grass descent I fairy-ed last week, I flew down and out of the saddle stomping on the cranks blasted up the climb back to the top boosting my Trail Karma in the process. From there on in it was back home to base same route as last week.

Is it a brilliant ride... not really. Is it fantastic to be pedalling with friends?

Always

Fat Lad

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Fat Lad Rides The Pete Pootle

Jeezy Chreezy this real life bullsh*t really does keep getting in the way. Anyways.... with my ride buddy sunning it up in Oz on his honeymoon it was just Pete, Sheila and I. We met up at the Ming-maid chippy (I'll not put its real name of Mermaid Fishery here as this blog ranks fairly highly on Google with certain search strings..) with a route Pete and Sheila had tried out last week. I still didn't feel a hundred percent but figured that being out on NuNu would be better than sitting on the sofa watching the haunted fish tank.

So with all the pleasantries out of the way we were off down the Rein Road and towards the first piece of track of the night. Shooting down the wide track I had a sudden realisation of where we were. It was the track where we were supposed to go when I got us all lost on a Sunday ride. For the record I have absolutely no sense of direction and I could get lost in the bath.

The weather was mild and beautiful and pedalling the first climb of the night we saw a group of kids on a knackered motorbike whizzing round the fields. Must be closer to summer than I thought. We crossed Dewsbury road and headed through the grounds of Woodkirk church to a downhill leading immediately to a pig of a grass climb. Trying and failing miserably (couldn’t get clipped in is my standard excuse theses days as I still cant get that left pedal quite right.....) to get up the fecker I had to have a smile as I reminisced on all the cheap cider fuelled giggles I inflicted upon this general area as a teenager.

Remember kids under age drinking is not clever, but it is a whole lot of fun!

We made our way down through the suburbs of Tingley and pulled off the road to the reservoir bunny hopping the speed bumps on the track as we went. We did a loop of the reservoir at a decent pace and without warning Pete shot down a steep grass verge. Sheila followed next, sailing down beautifully. I however descended like a complete fairy. I despair of myself sometimes. To make up for it I absolutely hammered up the climb back to reservoir level and hopefully in the process appeased the fickle gods o’the trail.

We left the reservoir via a very small wood section with a short steep hill that I didn't even think about until I’d cleared it. From the woods we made our way out of the estate and onto Thorpe lane towards the field on which we usually come the other way.

The rest of the ride was tarmac and so the GPS log would be circular I followed Pete and Sheila back to the chippy. From there I made my way back home.

When I got home I felt truly exhausted and it had surprised me how much illness can affect your riding. Let’s see if next time is any better.

Fat Lad

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