Mark_Loses_his_Cherry

Mark Loses his Cherry

We always remember the first time, don’t we? no matter how embarrassing or awkward the circumstances. It’s all a bit of a mystery isn’t it? All those questions that race through your mind,

“What shall I wear?”
“Will I need protection?”
“How will I compare?”
“Will they laugh at my equipment?”
 “Is Lubrication an issue?”
 “Shall I finish first or try to finish together?”
 “Have I got the stamina or the technique for it?”

Then finally there is all the fumbling in the dark with all those strange straps and buckles…..

But eventually you get the saddlebag attached and it’s off we go on another Audax ride or in Mark’s case his first 200k Randonnee and the longest ride of his career. 

Off we go  

And so it was last Saturday 20th October, when we set off from Ainsdale on one of my DIY Permanent rides, this one with the chance to visit foreign parts, no not Yorkshire, but a place with a different culture, a different language and strange customs. (could still be Yorkshire, I suppose).

Although this would be Mark’s longest ride he could hardly be regarded as an innocent “ virgin” since he is an experienced Ironman “Tri-ath-alete” and his normal long rides of 112 miles are sandwiched between 3mile open water swims, then running a full marathon. No worries, therefore, on whether he would struggle with the distance and so it proved to pass.

We were joined on the road by two time randonneur, Will making up our threesome, so to speak, and headed north to the first control point at Hesketh Bank before turning south on the A59. There we were joined briefly by Steve Duffell on his way to meet the Road Race boys for his regular Saturday morning spin. Our route took us on the Rainford by pass through St Helens where, as the new boy, I regaled Mark with tales of my past in the area suffered by previous participants on these rides. “That’s where I bought my first car in 1973”, “I used to work there”, “That’s the pub where I used to go under aged drinking” etc. All the while Mark feigned fascination whilst Will tried hard not to roll his eyes. Out of the town centre we nervously rode through Apache country also known as Parr and followed country lanes to emerge, albeit briefly, on the A49 in Warrington before locating the A50 Knutsford road which takes you on the quieter route over the River Mersey and Ship Canal at Thelwall. Up the long drag which marks the highest point on the ride we emerged on the roundabout over the M6 where a motorist found it oh so difficult to negotiate his shed of a car round us with only one and  a half lanes at his disposal, without sounding his horn and trying to run us into the kerb. Mark again showed his mettle by unleashing a stream of invective and expletives with hand gestures that any continental pro would be proud of whilst Will at the back blushed like a schoolgirl, though to be fair I think even John Terry would have been embarrassed at that outburst, but on seconds thoughts perhaps not.

Brunch was taken at the Lymm Truck Stop Services, however, after the big build up I had given the place it was disappointing to find that the baked beans were nearly cold. “Character Building” I concluded. Before leaving the cafe, we chatted with a group of 30 odd (well actually they were quite normal) riders from Stockport Community Cycling Club who had made their way to Lymm via their section of our very own Trans Pennine Trail.

Mark & Will share a romantic breakfast whilst I search for a Red Rose

To Foreign Fields

Continuing on quiet B roads and country lanes we headed east towards the outskirts of Runcorn before picking up the A56 through Frodsham and Helsby. We turned off this road at Mickle Trafford and again found quiet lanes and back roads to avoid the traffic chaos that is Chester at a weekend and dropped onto the beautifully paved cycle path that runs alongside the River Dee. After about a mile we crossed the border into Wales (ah that’s the foreign country, come on keep up!) where Mark’s chest visibly expanded with pride as we entered the Land of his Fathers, Mothers, Wife and Aunty Gladwys.  A little further on we crossed the river itself on a narrow bridge. Cue much sweating and wobbly wheeling as two of my pet fears, namely riding near water and heights but especially riding high above water, manifested themselves, a situation made worse by two riders coming the other way. Trying hard not to make eye contact or let them see the fear, I made it to the other side and having reached the warmer southern climes Will decided to strip off some of his layers.

Eureka! Now S*d Off

A few miles further on and up the hill we reached the next control point in the historic village of Hawarden, one time home to Victorian Prime Minister and “scouser” William Gladstone. After a brief stop to obtain proof of passage it was a 2 mile downhill to Queensferry and the roundabout next to “The ASDA” where we picked up the old Welsh road north, re-crossing the border and emerging via cycle paths and back lanes near to our afternoon stop at the World Famous Eureka Cyclists Café.

There we received the usual reception of a warm & friendly greeting by the staff and a cold shoulder from the other cyclists present. Clearly a case of “why don’t you play down your own end” I imagine but twas ever so whenever I have visited. (Perhaps it’s me). To be fair we were joined by one cyclist from Wrexham who recognised the jersey from the previous week when Richard & Sue Carey had ridden his local club’s Hill Climb up the Horseshoe Pass on’ tandem.

Leaving the Eureka we took the country lanes and the Wirral Country path route as far as the next control at Hoylake, familiar to those who came on the Mersey tunnel ride last November.  After Hoylake, we had a mad half hour with Will & Mark taking turns on the front in a desperate attempt to make sure we could get to the Ferry terminal in time for the next sailing. A feat we managed after me breathing out of every possible orifice with only ­17 minutes to spare.

How Much!

There is a famous book much loved by the womenfolk hereabouts called “Twopence to Cross the Mersey”. I don’t think it will be one of Mark’s favourites. Whilst Will & I used our bus passes……(small pause here whilst you stand back in amazement because we are surely not old enough) Mark asked for a single and was charged the sum of £4.50 for the 10 minute journey. “It’s the River Cruise price” said the ticket man, “yes but we are only going straight across”, we countered. “I know but you get the commentary and to hear Gerry & the Pacemakers” etc etc. .. Still someone has to pay for all the old codgers who go free, so we thought it might as well be Mark.

Mark checks his On Line Bank balance after buying a Ferry ticket

To be fair, the views of the city from the ferry are always spectacular and never better than on a beautiful sunny autumn evening after 100 miles of cycling…or when it costs you nowt.

Emerging at the Pier Head we crossed the Strand and left the city via Tithebarn St, swinging a left at the Lambanana with very little traffic to contend with. Despite the best efforts of virtually every set of traffic lights through Bootle & Litherland turning red just before we reached them, we made good progress through Sefton & Maghull to then climb Holborn Hill and descend to the penultimate control at the BP garage in Ormskirk.

“..And Now the End is Near”

The sun was dipping below the horizon and in a sign of things to come with the clocks going back next week, it was time to attach the lights and pootle off across the moss to Birkdale & Ainsdale with Will serenading us from his repertoire of ballads, and classic rock, though in all honesty he didn’t get much past the first verse of anything all day.

The final control was the ATM machine in Ainsdale Village and so it was job done. Mark had lost his cherry and ticked off another achievement for his “bucket list”, both Will & Mark had visited the world famous Eureka café to be given the “bum’s rush” but we had yet another grand day out with lots of laughs in the autumn sunshine.

I just hope that they will both still respect me in the morning!!

Report and Pictures from Peter Gawthorne. Posted 222/10/12

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