Heather’s gran was once asked about a coach trip to the Lakes with the Dewsbury Happiness Club, she thought for a bit and said there’d been some water and some Swans, but the best part was that she hadn’t had to open her purse all day.
I know that I’ve got a Central Lancashire mind, but I may also have a West Yorkshire soul, because I am impressed by value, and on the Three Coasts 600 we certainly got our full quota.
The all-in price of £10 seemed to be stretching it a bit for a possible three nights in Mytholmroyd Community Centre, two dinners, three breakfasts, snacks for the journey and two stops serving food for the later riders at closed controls, but it all worked out. I can only put it down to ‘Tyke Power’ or possibly a secret training college in Cleckheaton, twinned with one in Kirkaldy. The amazing value spread to Castleford Bus Station and the Boathouse Café in Bridlington, rarely has my wallet seen so little damage.
What of the ride itself you ask? It had been forecast to be wet but still on Saturday and a better day on Sunday - it wasn’t. Saturday was dry but overcast until about 10pm, with a fairly brisk Westerly. This was not good for all the lightweight climbers who tend to get blown about, but I don’t mind so much, because it’s a more sociable ride for me when others realise the benefit of sheltering behind my ample bulk, I rode out to Bridlington from Castleford with Julian Dyson.
I had an incentive to seek company, as my laminator had packed up, so my route sheet arrangements were pretty poor. My abiding impression was of a very large number of poppies in the fields. This inspired a series of disjointed observations on remembrance and Help for Heroes, this was deepened by my visit to the impressive war memorial at Sledmere, I stopped there while I waited for Julian, who was relieving himself close to the sign for Beverly and Wetwang. I mused on the details of the sculpture and on whether Beverly Wetwang would be a worse name for a boy or a girl.
After my lunch of homemade steak pie, chips, peas and gravy for £3.25 in the Boathouse café, we left to face the headwind. We encountered a big group on the first climb over the Wolds, they all shot off as I adopted a tempo approach. Soon the climb slackened, the wind took its toll and I passed them, taking a very neatly dressed AUK called Martin with me. He was experienced and we were soon working together, catching Ian who was on his first 600. Ian was very keen, and shot off the front on his turn on the front, which is only natural. Once we’d taught him to peel off and drop back we formed a good team on our way to Malton. He did tire a bit, largely because he hadn’t developed the iron stomach required for the big distances.
We all came back together at Castleford, where we had the archetypal late night service station experience, it was raining by then and I needed to stick with a group for navigation. Two of us dropped off on the hills and we went a bit wrong near Leeds, I also relied on Keith and Ann Benton to keep me on the straight and narrow back to Mytholmroyd.
After some food, two hours sleep, and breakfast, I set off with a small group in the rain and wind, I went the wrong way in Todmorden, and was on my own until Preston. I also didn’t have a route sheet and navigated by a combination of memory, the card details, a map and imagination.
At Preston, well Fulwood actually, it’s my birthplace, so I’m fussy. I rejoined the others, but set off again alone. I was confident of finding my way to Blackpool, but when Martin came past again we joined forces. I’d told him that cycling was a popular activity in Lancashire, and that we’d see lots of people out. This had been true even in the early morning rain, probably because they’d seen the forecast for a nice day from 10am.
At Blackpool we noted the name of the Hotel behind the cenotaph, which is an obelisk. Leaving Blackpool we encountered another rider, who wanted to know where Asterix or Obelix were. I assumed these were forum names initially, but I twigged and directed him to the promenade, which was closed for improvement works.
The route to Glasson Dock takes in some well known time trial roads, where I’ve ridden 50s, 100s, and 12s. We went on the tiny lanes instead, until Pilling and Cockerham marshes, a sort of wind-blasted steppe, where that wind was behind us.
I met up with my friend Dave at Glasson, we are going to film PBP together and he wanted to sort out some colour-balance issues on the five cameras. I hope the other riders weren’t too alarmed by his attention with a Canon 7D. Martin seemed quite taken with Glasson Dock, which is an historic canal basin and wet dock, we were there at high tide when there is a lot of colourful activity. My Dad used to sail dinghies at Glasson, so I’d seen everything hundreds of times, but through new eyes it looked very pretty, the Lantern o’er Lune café was very nice, but 40% more expensive than Brid, good food though and still good value.
I’d ridden much of the route between Glasson and Whalley on a 100 the Sunday before, so I invented my own, less hilly route, most people beat me there though. There was a helper and a van there, dispensing food and water, as the café was closed. The same was true of Hollingworth Lake, reached after much tempo climbing and welcome descending. This was followed by a very ’tempo’ ride up Blackstone Edge and a welcome descent of almost five miles to Mytholmroyd and more excellent catering.
It was a demanding ride because of the wind, there were about 8 hours of rain to contend with as well. But a lot of rides since early May have had those conditions, by the end of Sunday there was a blue sky. I enjoyed the ride for the company as much as anything, and the inspiring sight of Keith and Ann Benton completing their 600 qualifier. The Press in York was impressed that they rode a similar distance in four days, I wonder what they’d think about 40 hours.
York OAPs Ann and Keith Benton, from Wigginton in 362-mile charity cycle challenge across Europe (From York Press)
