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Part the third, off at last. |
We blazed through London in a fast moving convoy. It seemed less congested than last year and much faster; maybe I just had my head down and was trying to keep up. I know my pedalling cadence was up over a hundred, but didn’t know the exact figure as this bike has no computer. Before I knew it we had started overhauling riders and were on the long drag up to Epping and last years first stop point of the petrol station. At the petrol station we did indeed catch up with the second half of the convoy we wanted to catch. AndyGates was there on his fixie with flag, as, from what I remember, were the rest of the ACF/C+ peleton. As I had already guzzled nearly all the contents of my first water bottle, and the water tap said “Not drinking water” I decided to buy some bottled water. I walked into the shop having clearly stated to TimPike “Don’t leave without me”. I exited the shop to find the ACF/C+ group had departed. I hastily stuffed both litre bottles of water under a handy bungee and sprinted off. I was on my own, in the dark, on a bike I didn’t trust. With tyres screaming defiance against the tarmac I sped through the night. Espying red lights ahead I piled on the pressure and accelerated. It wasn’t them. I screamed past in a blur of legs and thunder of noise. I stopped to pick the water bottle up and stuff it more securely under a bungee and then sped on. Doubt set in, had the team really left without me? They’d talked about a gentle ride from that point. Were they hiding at the garage, had they put on a sprint to lose me, or was I just too slow? As I roared down the road I saw another two riders ahead. I slowed to quieten the din from the tyres and asked if they knew whether there was a tandem ahead. The answer of “I think so” was enough to motivate me into a final effort. I caught them, although they had stopped. Apologies were received, they thought I was with them and hadn’t noticed me missing. From there the ride settled down into a case of just keep turning the pedals and look around. It wasn’t as great as last year, it was chillier and more overcast so we didn’t have the silhouettes against the sky line or the summer evening scents. I was also concentrating on keeping up. Each time we caught a group of riders I had to watch for the break when my group went ahead again, if I wasn’t careful I tacked onto the back of the slower group then had a massive effort to catch up again with the ACF/C+ group. The food stop was incredible. Many many more bikes than last year and a queue out of the door. With nothing to do but rest I decided to rest in the queue and see what sort of pasta gloop was being served, rather than resort to the supplies in the bar bag. It was edible, but obviously already being rationed (without a reduction in price). I was also able here to meet other people for the first time. Ron, who last year I gently mocked for stopping for bladder relief without turning his lights off, had watched as we sped past his punctured bike at the same spot. Sorry Ron, it’s nothing personal. I also met with one of my other CTC DA committee members, I wasn’t aware he was even riding this ride. Finally, with great relief, I enjoyed a massage from Mike. My shoulders and neck had locked up as the bike was set up wrongly for me. I don’t know what Mike did but the pain went and didn’t come back. Of course, I haven’t been able to mention this at work, his user name makes perfect sense on a cycling forum, but I daren’t mention that I enjoyed BentMikey’s massage to my non-cycling colleagues. |
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