Good show, EldestCub!
I'm more or less recovered from the weekend now, as driving long distances in hot weather and faulty A/C in the car seems to tire me out, and although the A19 north from York was altogether quieter and quicker than the A1, the A68 wasn't really. But the picnic lunch stop at Derwent Reservoir was lovely, and nine hours' sleep last night on a big mattress and a pillow not made of rolled-up Hummvees was luxury.
A relaxed pootle from my campsite to the race course turned into a right hammer down endeavour after somehow getting lost in Bishopthorpe and then pointing the velomobile at the big roads instead of NCN65. Parked up at the BHPC tent, chatted with Jeff and Shawn, and immediately resorted to handing out copies of my Quick Reference Guide™ to save me answering the same questions over and over, like I did last year.
How fast does it go? Is it electric? Can you fit in there? Do you need a flag? I think you need a flag. How much did it cost? Where did you get it? Did you build it? Are you allowed to ride it on the road? Can you carry anything? Can I sit in it? Is it yours? Does it have pedals? Does it have two wheels? What happens when it rains? Does it have lights? Do drivers see you?
The trade tent seemed smaller than ever, perhaps even than last year; certainly smaller than the halcyon commercial days of the York Cycle Show, but even the food tent seemed only to have beer at one end and Little Bao Boy at the other. I wandered around the clothing and accessories stalls and recognised some end of line stuff that was there last year. Some of the Polaris seconds range was nice – I liked the pink/purple/red jerseys with the triangle pattern – but I have no need for back pockets. The spread of used bicycle components was tempting, mainly for having an original Shimano Deore XT rear dérailleur with the deer emblem on it, for just £5.
Good to catch up with some yACFers after lunch at TJ and Nye's tent (sorry I missed you, Butterfly) and a couple of others whose faces are familiar but whose names I have completely forgotten.
It's a shame when life gets in the way, and a few other faces were notable by their absence.
Lee and I rode together to ye olde pubbe, and tried to avert the rush for food by going straight to the bar instead of hanging about and being sociable. But the blackboard said the food was the steak buffet, which was
- apparently the only thing available; and
- depleted
so we lost our advantage of time by having to ask the staff when the buffet would be undepleted again. I decided quantity was more important than variety, and got stuck in anyway. Howard and miniHoward waited five minutes more and got a whole plateful of more interesting food, while I was happy with cheesy pasta and salad and onion rings and rice and gloop. A good time was had by all. Lee and I rode back to my campsite for a bit of friendly Milan SL vs Quest on gorgeous tarmac. He then rode back to his campsite, and I hid in the car to escape the flies which had seemingly erupted in their thousands from thin air and were battering against the windscreen and windows, until the temperature dropped enough for them to go elsewhere and I could make a run for it to the toilet block.
Sunday morning I discovered my foot was covered in bites, and my arm, and one huge bite in my back. Unlike Scotland, pharmacies in York don't seem to open on Sundays, until lunchtime nearly, or at all. I found one on the north side of town, but Google maps took me down the Shambles and made me get lost again. Still, it was nice to see the Minster close-up again, even though I was a bit late getting out of town.
Then to the race track! Whereupon I realised I hadn't brought my helmet. No lid, no race, so I took photographs instead and generally cooked in the sunshine. Fortunately Mike Burrows was more sensible than me and gave me some of his suntan lotion (which, I have discovered today, worked a treat). While low racers and streamliners cranked over in the hairpins makes for great photos, velomobiles and trikes are (usually) entirely planted and stable, so I played with wide angle stuff. The velodrome, as Kim pointed out, has no shade. In fact, it does, if you crouch behind the lighting columns. I made do and turned myself periodically so that at least I'd burn evenly.
Kim lent me her helmet at the end of the session so that I could take my Quest around the velodrome. Shawn did the timing for me, so I did one lap on the level, realised I was going too fast to build up any more speed so hooked up for one lap on the banking to get the feel of it—unlike a bicycle, three wheels needs 20-25mph for safe riding, and my Quest is quite softly sprung—and then fired in one hot lap. Andrew shouted at me to keep going because the times were good, so I dumped everything I had into my legs and tried again. I'm not sure I could do that pace all day, put it that way, but both Shawn and Mike were very complimentary.
Back to normality after that, back to my tent for showering and putting on civvies. Lee, Howard, miniHoward and I met up in town for a meal, then a walk in the sunshine, then back for ice creams, and then home, and a jolly good time was had by all.
