RR: Sheep get heavier when they're wet!

The above line by Ardal O'Hanlon was running through my mind as I balled
my hand into a fist and squeezed the water out of my gloves for the
umpteenth time in the ride.

Simon had dropped me an email a week earlier suggesting that I might be
interested in riding a 160km (100 mile) audax in Ayrshire on Sunday. I
had been intending to ride a century for a while, and this seemed a good
opportunity. I swapped my tyres for even thinner ones, re-attached the
QR rack to the Giant and set off from Edinburgh in a borrowed car with
around 5 hours sleep to see me through.

Driving through the rain and fog was a little dispiriting, but the
conditions seemed to be improving as I headed south from Glasgow so
while I was expecting showers I was dissuaded from entering.

I picked up my Brevet card and passed the time until Simon arrived
admiring the collection of steeds. One chap on an Optima rider stood
apart, more than anything due to his collection of foam addons which
shielded him from road muck. Other than a few traditional steel tourers,
there seemed to be a lot of fast bikes of a pretty high calibre. The
Giant was fairly outclassed by most.

Simon arrived, with a friend from his fledgling cycling club and running
a little late, the three of us set off last. Thankfully, we didn't seem
to be plagued by the technical problems that had hit us on the last
audax we rode together, although Simon did have some trouble with a
slack cable which made changing chainring a little problematic.

Marcus, Simon's friend, had jovially commented on my overshoes before we
set off and as we stopped to remove our waterproofs, I wondered if he
hadn't been right to do so, and whether I could fasten them to my rack
with everything else. When the rain started a little later and forced
the donning of raincoats again, I was glad I hadn't.

Marcus, was forced to retire after around 25 miles due to back problems
and being soaked to the skin. As he left, he offered us a bail-out if we
needed it, in the form of a drive back to the start. As we continued
steadily upwards into the headwind and driving rain over the next ten
miles, that promise was echoing around my head, and I don't mind
admitting, that if Simon has suggested packing it in, I would have done
so then and there.

But he didn't, so I didn't, and so eventually we staggered into the
half-way (ish) control: The Green Tea House in Moniaive. We added our
bikes to the collection in the front garden and went in for a cup of
coffee and to get the cards stamped. In the tradition of good controls,
this one sold a great selection of food including bacon butties. "I
agree with their portion control" was Simon's comment as two
considerable bacon butties and veritable bowls of coffee arrived.
Despite resembling a drowned rat (and feeling like one two), this was
enough to make the whole thing look more positive and with the
encouraging direction "L and over steep hill" we set off again.

Good hill!

I started in the middle ring thinking that I could muscle my way up it.
When I realised that this wasn't going to happen, I also discovered that
I couldn't change down as there was too much tension in the chain, and I
couldn't afford to slacken off at all. Thankfully there was a reasonably
flat driveway which allowed me to drop to a more sensible gear and from
there it was just a matter of spinning incessantly until the top. At
this point we had bunched up a little and were riding for the next 5
5-10 miles as part of a collection of 6 which made the going a little
easier.

To be honest. Other than a few choice moments, my memory fades here. So
those moments (In no particular order):

- The twisty descent (Of the aforementioned mad hill) with potholes
galore. I remember looking down to my right and seeing the road which
was heading right just as we were beginning a pretty sharp left turn,
and realizing that that meant the next corner was going to be quite
exciting. It was.

- Another descent (Nearly home) and we were flying... right passed the
turning which we were supposed to have taken. This was one of a number
of minor navigational errors, although this one gained us around
1.5miles over the planned route.

- Riding a ridge about 2 miles from the finish and seeing a shaft of
sunlight glinting off the sea at Ayr.

- Watching the trip meter on my computer tick over to "100.00".
Strangely satisfying that.

- The irritation of the increasingly complex directions as we neared the
end of the ride. Tired and (still) damp, we were relying on Simon's
route sheet as mine had fallen apart due to rain damage, and some
relatively complex unsigned routing around Ayr was not what we needed.

- The joy of the last climb... into the carpark of Ayr Rugby Club. And
subsequently sitting in the bar, talking bikes and cycling. I'm inclined
to agree with the lady Simon... if you can ride a 100 miles on a day
like Sunday, you have no right to claim to be "unfit"! ;-)

All in all, it was a good day, and aside from some stiffness in my left
ankle (?) I was reasonably OK the following day. I could have done
without having to get up at 6:45 to drive to Galashiels, and could
definitely have done with having a day off (Public Holiday? you're not
public!) but while I doubt I could have done another 100, I could
certainly have managed a few more than my 3 miles home from work in the
afternoon.

Jon

in message , Jon Senior
jon_AT_restlesslemon_DOT_co_DOT_uk ('') wrote:

The above line by Ardal O'Hanlon was running through my mind as I
balled my hand into a fist and squeezed the water out of my gloves for
the umpteenth time in the ride.

Great write-up, Jon. I've just posted my own.

--
(Simon Brooke) http://www.jasmine.org.uk/~simon/

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