June 24th – Past Manchester, feels like ‘up north’ now
70.6 miles – total so far = 463.3
2,211 feet of climbing – total so far = 29,228
Max elevation 789 feet
Well, that was a bit of a surprise.
I am not going to risk offending either 52% or 48% by revealing which way my postal ballot went or commenting on the result, but this was one of the few events that actually managed to penetrate the bubble of the ride and register with me that something quite big had happened that didn’t involve bikes, hills, miles and miles or cake.
Really nice breakfast this morning as we knew it would be having stayed at this place before. Then the usual call and before you know it, all the morning preparations are done and its off at a very good time. Earliest start yet, 8:30. Only 70 miles to go, so if I have a half decent ride, then I could be to the hotel mid-afternoon. That would be very nice.
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Looking at the weather for today, it matches the mood of the remainers, dark and gloomy. Heavy showers passing across the route pretty well all day from the west, unlikely that I will miss them all.
The best of the day looks likely to be the start, so I push on fairly hard and maintain a good pace at about 15.5 mph. This is quite a flat day for the first half at least. This stage takes me past Jodrell Bank, don’t have time to stop off.
First stop is at a Methodist Chapel, closest place seems to be Mobberley. I manage to just beat the support team there, this could be an ongoing competition, so far I think I am 2.1 up. I don’t believe that will last as Ruth will get herself sorted out, she doesn’t like coming second.
Quick snack, drink and off while it’s still dry.
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6 miles in and I have a slightly odd bit of route, past a rubbish tip down a side lane. I check with another cyclist who is coming the other way and its passable so off I go, only to find a gaggle of geese blocking the way. Picture time and then they saunter off and I continue.
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That was kind of the start of the interesting route bit as this was always going to be a bit tricky. After the tip and the geese, I emerge into Hale. Still flat, but somewhat urbanised and a mixture of busy roads and back alleys as I skirt past Altrincham. Then it’s back into the country.
Some funny lanes, I pass Manchester United’s training ground, not overly impressed as it started to rain about now.
I am now starting to go around the outside of Manchester, and go through Flixton. Here I have the one time when my smile, be nice and friendly doesn’t quite go as planned.
I could see this guy cycling ahead of me on the road who I was going to pass, and as usual when passing I just look over and say hello.
On looking over the words almost froze in my mouth on seeing his expression and seeing his head.
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Where I had thought the guy was wearing a strange helmet, actually it is just tattoos all over his skull giving that impression of a helmet. It’s amazing how many thoughts go through your mind in a short space of time as in between the surprise of realising that it was loads of tats, and passing the guy I made the decision to stick with my friendly, don’t make assumptions approach and I think it this case the assumptions would have been correct. Guess stereotypes form for a reason.
It became a case of let’s ride on as fast as possible in case he decides to catch up with me, stab me, leave me in a ditch type scenario, before continuing to deliver his staches to his customers.
All the B movie scenarios you can play out came to mind straight away on the basis of that look that came back. It did not reflect my cheerful isn’t it a lovely day opening. Have to say, that this was the only time this happened, so overall I am happy to have stuck with the friendly approach.
From here, my route took me into a car park and then down a scruffy path stroke cycle track and then suddenly I am on a skinny little bridge with low handrails and going across the Manchester Ship Canal. Wow, I think, this is impressive and I can see a pair of locks that I will cycle over the top of. Holy crap, that’s a long way down. Cycle faster, get over that, phew, done. Glad it wasn’t windy. Thinking about it, they do have big ships going through, so it would have to be deep when emptied to allow the seaward craft in.
Still spitting with rain, but no heavy shower yet, not got the waterproof on yet.
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The next bit of road is reminiscent of the cycle track I had with Glenn, pretty rough, loads of rough stones and cinders, all in all can’t help but think this is puncture heaven, but somehow no, and after a few miles get off of this, cross the railway and it starts raining, so top on. Only a couple of miles to the next stop, so it will be fine.
By the time I get to Astley (nothing to do with Rick as far as I can tell), it is pissing down. Only option is to leave the bike at the back of the car and clamber into the Yaris for lunch. Sandwich, water, cake and hear about the drama of persuading a doctor’s surgery to allow Jenni to use the facilities as she was bursting! Some of the stories in here do cross reference to the blog that was published on the day by me and Ruth, this is one of those cases if you want Tales of the Bladderbank.
The forecast still not great and as it is dumping a lot, we decide to throw in another stop closer to the end of the day. After 30 minutes, the rain eases, so it is a case of it has to be done and get out of the car.
Steady climb for a while, which in some ways takes your mind off the rain that is still falling, but starting to ease off. Get to Middle Holton and its downhill for a while. Head towards Bolton, have a bit of a route malfunction on a high street type road but correct it in time and find quieter roads. Did not like that road at all, and from reading the blog, it seems to have prejudiced me against Bolton. Tunnel under a railway line at least is dry.
From that tunnel is the biggest climb of the day, about 450, so another Beacon.
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Meet the girls at a pub most of the way up, Bob’s Smithy Inn and have a cup of tea. It starts raining again so we shelter under a small corner that we can just squeeze into. Interesting graffiti on the table informing us that DJ Custard sucks balls. We wish him all the best.
After some food as well, it’s time to head off again. Bit more hill to do. Not quite sure why, but after a couple of hundred yards checked the rear light to find it wasn’t there. Believe me, there are few things worse than riding back down a hill you have ridden up, knowing that you will have to ride back up it again.
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The light found, fallen off just outside the pub and then it is back up that bit of hill. I guess I could have either not found it or been further up the hill, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it didn’t help the mood which was starting to match the colour of the sky.
That improved a bit as there was a nice downhill after the ups, just as it was very wet, you have to take it quite carefully so not possible to really whizz along. Then it’s off to Rivington.
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Flatter here as I am contouring around the Lower and then Upper Rivington Reservoirs. The track / road I follow around the Upper reservoir appears to not be a public road, but some ‘Utility’ road, but I chance it and go along it. All fine.
Then one more reservoir, the Anglezarke. Looking back at the Strava on this, it was only 1 ½ miles this bit, but it was a disaster. And it was my fault.
I think somehow, the last reservoir and taking the ‘Utility’ road had both encouraged and disconcerted me. I wasn’t happy about chancing it down roads that may be blocked at some stage, so getting away with almost makes you think you have used up a bit of your luck. On the other hand, take what chances you get offered.
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So, my route here was meant to take Moor Road, and it was another big hill. The road surface also looked pretty rubbish, but I think I was looking for reasons not to do it at this point. Also, there was another of these roads though that showed as going along the side of the reservoir, so let’s roll the dice again.
Starts off fine for the first half mile, not great surface, but rideable. Then it ceases to be a track, and becomes a footpath. A footpath through a wood. It also starts raining. Do I turn back and tackle that hill? Looking at the Strava, it feels like it is better to press on as it looks less distance and it must be flatter. The mood nosedives at this point, but also a degree of stubbornness kicks in.
It may only have been about ½ to ¾ miles, but this bit was slooooooow. Having to carry the bike at times, lift it over styles, slugging through muddy paths and fields, until finally I find a style over to get back on to Moor Road. A lot of time lost.
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I gather that the girls were puzzled as they were tracking me, and at one stage Ruth was saying, he’s in the middle of the reservoir, should we go rescue him?
We do meet up at the last rendezvous for the day, an equestrian centre and then it’s just under ten miles to the end. This wasn’t easy for either of us. Lots of hideous confusing roundabouts for the girls, a bit more than Ruth was used to as a new driver, and when I navigated the last lanes and got to the A59, I realised that I hadn’t plotted the route to the hotel, I just stopped it where I got to the A59.
Grumpy phone call to see if I should go up the hill or down, go on, guess. Yep, up the sodding hill. It wasn’t much of a hill, only a mile long and a hundred feet or so, but I was in a dark place now, and this was not a good end to the days riding.
For most people, it is four days into a LEJOG that they have a crisis of confidence, despair, and general grumpiness, for me it was most definitely day 6. Part of it was the weather and the problems of the day, but at the same time there was a sense that I felt now as if I had been doing this forever and the end was even further away. It was silly to think that I could do something like this at my age, on my own, well aside from the magnificent support, but they can’t ride the bike for me. Also, the bike, it is now just me looking after it and I don’t know anything about bikes. Weighed down for sure.
Then the evening routine kicks in. Perversely the sun comes out now so we give the bike a wash down and clean up, then the rider gets a wash down and clean up as we are entertaining tonight.
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First up, Ruth had an evening off to go and meet a uni friend of hers in Preston. Jenni and I met up with Ruth Lowe. Ruth is a national CRY representative, whom I had spoken with on Uckfield back in February, and had various emails with in preparation for the ride. Ruth had lost her son years before and had since raised a phenomenal amount of money for CRY, over £100,000.
Talking with Ruth, it is clear that whatever you do, events will continue to shape you and come back at you. How each person deals with that varies. Not having a comparable loss, not always sure what to say.
Ruth and her husband were used to this and kept talking. They were very helpful on CRY fund raising and encouraging about the ride. I took advantage of local knowledge to check the early part of the route the following day!
Then our Ruth was back with Rebecca and they joined us for a bit of food before Ruth ran Rebecca back to the station and we made our way to bed.
Tomorrow has to be a better day.