The Audio-Talk Cycling thread.

[andrew Ivimey]

Not really Phil, not really!

[pre65]

Not really Phil, not really!

Are you not familiar with the Buddy Holly song "Oh boy" ?

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/buddyholly/ohboy.html

[IslandPink]

Ooh - I got it - I got it Sir - I'm cleverer than Ivimey !

[andrew Ivimey]

Familiar...I should say not. New fangled beat music, scruffy long haired tykes , three years in the army would sort that lot, now in my day...

[Dave the bass]

...he's got a Stratocaster with a whammy bar....

[andrew Ivimey]

Now thats a reference that eni fule no.

[Dave the bass]

Referenced twice in one day.

Radical!

[andrew Ivimey]

Oh for fuck's sake! That's really stupid! You know what I mean...

[Dave the bass]

92.2 miles, not quite Ivimey Gold Cup standard, but close.

Fixed....natch.

[IslandPink]

Wow - what's going on down there ? - is there something special in the water ?
Respect Due !

Stouffer.jpg (6.71 KiB) Viewed 4103 times

[Dave the bass]

Ta Mark.

Summer, and a bit of free-time! Thats whats going on down here Pics + Full report tomorrow but in short I did Dartford to Cambridge via Epping and B-roads, then KingsX to back home.

[Dave the bass]

My legs still work today, just, yey!



https://www.relive.cc/view/g13318676452

Positively 'Mountainous'....


Then, a good few hours chin-wagging with...

Good to meet up with you again MrI, its been toooooo long.

Whilst the bikes acted all dog-like and sniffed one another's bottys...


Then train from Cambridge back to KingsX, then Pfffiksey back home...


Total mileage = 92.2 for the day. A PB. Av speed not too shoddy over that length of time (for me).

Cambridge ride Stats.

Departed: Aug 03, '17, 07:39AM <- (Note, post brekkie!)
Distance: 69.6 mi
Elevation: + 3027 / - 3126 ft
Max Grade
12.9 %
Avg. Grade
0.2 %
VAM 363 Vm/h
Ascent time 02:32:35
Descent time 02:02:02
Total Duration: 05:33:39
Moving Time: 04:34:37
Stopped Time: 00:59:02
Max Speed: 33.9 mph
Avg. Speed: 15.2 mph
Pace: 00:04:48
Moving Pace: 00:03:57

[andrew Ivimey]

92.2 miles - lets consider... Impressive and special in anyone's book but on a fixie..... I couldn't . fan super tastic, but more of that later.

When a fixie is used in ideal fixie conditions a fixie really is a treat. Our Dave's journey was not by a long chalk ideal conditions - Respect. On the other hand, having seen his old black bike up close I notice several things. Dave is economical with; Campag front wheel indeed and that lovely Brookes saddle. Looking deeper I realised some very quality fettling has gone on and this bike is v.good indeed.

still a fixie though! phhhrrrooooaarrr.

When Dave suggested his heart's desire was to cycle to Cambridge I pm'd him saying as it would be a delightful jaunt across the fields for me so I'd join him for coffee. And so the stage was set.

Like Bilbo Baggins I overslept and ran out of the house without handkerchiefs, my paracetemols, couldn't find the intended cycling trousers and my carefully constructed crib sheet on how and where I was to leave the Shire for vile eastern parts (all carefully transcribed from AA routefinder) So that's how I found myself speeding towards Sandy. Where I found a delicious little short cut didn't I but then I got lost in Gamlingay ( a weird little village for 'local people' only) about half way. Pondering the consequences of a wrong decision whilst gazing upwards to a signpost I was overtaken by a speeding monster clad in very little except muscles, he turned left. So confident, fast, a full of flair was he that I nearly followed but it was right I had to go left and eventually realised I was taking the middle route of the three I had found on my pc. I came down to the A603 about 8 miles out of Cambridge. Now, the cruelometer was seriously in the red as cars passed me close to mach 1 but after a few miles there appeared a totally fab cycle lane so I sped into the city to play with the tourists in the pedestrian precincts of learning in the heart of academia. I was sitting wobbly on my crossbar when round the corner came Dave, wreathed in smiles and fresher than a daisy - it was with great pleasure, we met.

We went into the market Square bought two large coffees and for nearly four hours just stood there and talked and larffed, larrfffed and talked, talked more and had a jolly good catch up all round. We talked about youse lot too, oh for only about 10 seconds but how we did talk. You'd think we would at least sit down and/or sample the delights that such a city could offer. But we didn't. we stood, talked and larfffed. And then it was four o'clock so we said Ta-Ta and set off in opposite directions.

My heart was not full of joy for although I could get off to a fast start heading homewards I dearly wished a freak tear in the fabric of the space time continuum would swallow me up, or indeed I could be run over. No oh no, there was a promise of gusts of wind up to 41mph coming from west, south west and this was exactly the direction I had to cycle in. Up to 35 possible miles of this was what I was theoretically facing. At first it went well; the cycle path. But I knew what to expect; Cruelometer country where the cycle path just ends, And a big bastard hill. But no, what's this / a turning right promising 'Bourn' in 6 miles and a cycle path that continues. I remembered my studying of the three possible routes for the day and this could be the northern way. I was seduced and all was well until the 'Taking the Pissometer' showed that for 4 miles a long pull up had become torture... and the wind was rising.

On the 'tops' I found the wind was indeed gusting and doing a pretty good job of sustaining itself too. OTOH it was a good cycling road, the sun was shining and some of the views of surrounds were spectacular and beautiful. In the westerly distance I could see the Sandy broadcasting Aerial. It looked about seven feet tall. The gusts continued - it was hard and getting worse and then, as I crested another long pull up, it was down and down and down into Gamlingay, so picture this, wobbly and frail the bike continues without me having to push pedals. I stand up to ease anatomical pressure and a little joy re-enters my miserable existence. And then it 'gusts'. I'm not kidding. I was stopped dead in my tracks and was forced to pedal hard to go downhill. Having gotten through Gamlingay I was out in the open fields again and the wind was roaring. If I was doing 2 miles an hour I was not doing 2.1mph. and an idea sprung out and licked my face; It was six o'clock, I have a wife and a car. Surely some combination of these factors could combine with me drinking pints of beer in a pub while waiting for all the factors to resolve what had become an impossible situation. I phoned Anna and gave her the coordinates for the Thornton Arms in Everton and that’s where she found me three pints later. As the pub wasn’t really the sort of place I’d want to eat in though the dog behind the counter was licking his massive chops at the sight of Anna and I, we pressed on to Moggerhangar where I had two more pints and a plate of egg and chips.

Happy Ending! Home, shower, cuppa tea and sleep!

Only 52 miles but the last twenty were the hardest miles I have ever ridden, ever, no really, I mean it. The needle of the cruelometer is seriously bent and will have to be re-set and calibrated.

As Bob Marley used to sing, ‘One good ‘ting about wind, is when it ends you feel okay, so hit me with the wind, hit me with the wind now!’ I got hit alright.

Fab day out though and I’ll leave you with this thought, ‘Dave,' I said, 'look. when you get back to Dartford you’ll have done 90 odd miles – why not just push on a little further...?’ He replied, and I thought this was so considered, modest and mature, ‘...that can be a goal for another day.’

Cor!

[ed]

cor Omib, I'm full of yearning for the past and hugest nostalgia....

you will have passed close by the environs of Longstowe, where abided Swift acres for many a year...close by the aforementioned Bourne. My earliest years were spent there before shipping out to Hitchin. A slightly different countrified route might have taken you through Grantchester, of the meadows fame....super bike ride territoire..

ahh I ramble

[andrew Ivimey]

Ramble on!

Its the only way to go.

Dave has happy memories of Grantchester, me nah! But Godmanchester, that's another story.