C.R.A.P Cycle Ride, May 2017. blog, ian Mcallister
My turn to sum up events for 16 sodden souls over the weekend of 19th to 21st May 2017. Well… sodden for a wee while.
Before I begin, I must reiterate that Phil George has very much been involved in the organising of this year’s ride. This needs to be recognised although I’m more than happy to take all the credit.
A ‘reduced’ version of our annual cycle saw us start from Cramlington, stopover in Durham, cycle to Haltwhistle, stop over again and then head back to Cramlington on Sunday. No Thursday stay over, no mini bus and trailer costs, not even support van costs, thanks to Paul Flint. We all owe a huge ‘Thank you’ to Paul for that.
Sadly, some of our regulars couldn’t make the trip this year; Graeme Cuthbertson, Colin McBeth, Ant Hewitt, Dave Gillon, Bob Ball, Richard Stothard, Ken Wheeler, Alan Blacklock and Keith Colton – all were a big miss.
These rides, along with all the other CRAP activities, have been going for a long time now (30 years in fact) producing a close knit group who all get on well; a group I am proud to be part of.
This year’s bike squad were: Big Phil George
Andrew Mowbray
Derek Smith
Tony Gilroy
Tony Gillon
Roland Smith
Derek Brown
Tony Hedley
Mark Livingstone
Paul Flint
Colin Robertson
John Hill
Greg Young
Richard McAllister
Bob Young
Ian McAllister
Before I begin, I must reiterate that Phil George has very much been involved in the organising of this year’s ride. This needs to be recognised although I’m more than happy to take all the credit.
A ‘reduced’ version of our annual cycle saw us start from Cramlington, stopover in Durham, cycle to Haltwhistle, stop over again and then head back to Cramlington on Sunday. No Thursday stay over, no mini bus and trailer costs, not even support van costs, thanks to Paul Flint. We all owe a huge ‘Thank you’ to Paul for that.
Sadly, some of our regulars couldn’t make the trip this year; Graeme Cuthbertson, Colin McBeth, Ant Hewitt, Dave Gillon, Bob Ball, Richard Stothard, Ken Wheeler, Alan Blacklock and Keith Colton – all were a big miss.
These rides, along with all the other CRAP activities, have been going for a long time now (30 years in fact) producing a close knit group who all get on well; a group I am proud to be part of.
This year’s bike squad were: Big Phil George
Andrew Mowbray
Derek Smith
Tony Gilroy
Tony Gillon
Roland Smith
Derek Brown
Tony Hedley
Mark Livingstone
Paul Flint
Colin Robertson
John Hill
Greg Young
Richard McAllister
Bob Young
Ian McAllister
Friday Morning
Oh dear. At 7am it was raining – by 9am it was tipping it down. Not the best start. As all arrived at Halfords, Greg’s bike was upside down, rear wheel (it’s always the rear) off and puncture repair in progress. What a shame. Little did we know, Greg was simply cementing his new found reputation for ‘Demolition’ – see what I did there? More later.
Halfords proved too much of a temptation and one or two had to go in and buy some bike goodies. Lord Derek Brown wanted gloves, his current ones were shite. Phil wanted waterproof over shoes. Clearly happy, Phil came out with a big smile and showed us his purchase. Once fitted, we realised why he was ‘so happy’, he now no longer needed £1.60 for the ferry, he could just walk across the Tyne.
Just to cheer us up, Dave from Halfords popped out with a dozen or so energy bars, "There you go lads". Very good of him and just when Hedley, sorry I mean Tony, was inside getting his own goodies. Not sure he ever got one of those bars.
So a 9am start was a 9:20am start… in the rain. Greg referred to his meteorological terminology book and officially declared it "pissing down".
Oh dear. At 7am it was raining – by 9am it was tipping it down. Not the best start. As all arrived at Halfords, Greg’s bike was upside down, rear wheel (it’s always the rear) off and puncture repair in progress. What a shame. Little did we know, Greg was simply cementing his new found reputation for ‘Demolition’ – see what I did there? More later.
Halfords proved too much of a temptation and one or two had to go in and buy some bike goodies. Lord Derek Brown wanted gloves, his current ones were shite. Phil wanted waterproof over shoes. Clearly happy, Phil came out with a big smile and showed us his purchase. Once fitted, we realised why he was ‘so happy’, he now no longer needed £1.60 for the ferry, he could just walk across the Tyne.
Just to cheer us up, Dave from Halfords popped out with a dozen or so energy bars, "There you go lads". Very good of him and just when Hedley, sorry I mean Tony, was inside getting his own goodies. Not sure he ever got one of those bars.
So a 9am start was a 9:20am start… in the rain. Greg referred to his meteorological terminology book and officially declared it "pissing down".
The 9.20am start worked out really well. The fast lads waited at the North Shields Ferry while the rest made good time. All riders got on the ferry at the same time. Wish I could take the credit but it was pure luck. I told them it wasn’t raining on the other side. I lied.
I’m told the ride from Cramlington to Shields and then Shields to Sunderland was drama free, just wet. Some uninteresting facts along the way.
Tony Gillon had a new bike, so did Ian Mc although his wouldn’t be tested until Saturday.
Paul Flint had a bike with his name on.
The van, kindly provided by Paul, was a Citroen and it drove brilliantly.
Phil’s steed would be its last outing, destined for the scrap yard (should keep the yard’s welders busy for a week or so)
Hedley, sorry I mean Tony, brought his road bike in surprisingly good order. Peter Phillipson would have been proud to see Tony at last take note of his advice. (For the uninformed, somewhere in the rain clouds above Hawes mending punctures some years ago now, Peter said Tony’s other bike was shite)
It was clear in the Sunderland area that the squad were well spread out. Bob Young decided to go off-piste in Sunderland city centre to admire the University campus at St Peter’s and the nearby church. Bob went one further when he decided to have a similar jaunt around the town of Seaham, some locals now on first name terms. In truth, Bob like few others had missed the Lord Byron café, the designated lunch stop.
After last year’s escapades, I thought Mark Livingstone would be wary of Tony Hedley Tours, a subsidiary designed to maximize the CRAP cycle experience, alas 7
not and Mark (with Tony) could proudly boast cycling many more miles than anyone else. They too have sound knowledge of all that Seaham town has to offer. Lord Brown officially announced that the Lord Byron Café sold THE best coffee in the North East. Couldn’t argue with that.
After lunch this was the situation:
The fast lads (Richard Mc, Paul Flint, Greg Young) hadn’t been seen since 9:20am. In fact, not seen again until all arrived at the Honest Lawyer Hotel. Of the rest, two distinct groups emerged although ‘Tony Hedley Tours’ broke away briefly to include Houghton-Le-Spring on their itinerary. For brevity, I’ll call the two factions: Phil’s group and Derek Smith’s group. Somehow without knowing it, one group passed the other somewhere around Lyons Parks in Hetton-Le-Hole, a lovely town by the way. All insist they followed the route exactly. As van driver for the day, I was utterly confused. Never Mind. All were safe and all on their way to Durham town. (The fast lads were already at the hotel. Arrived at 1:30pm apparently). Derek’s group took in water at the Swan and Cygnet and waited. Phil’s group didn’t. Bob Young successfully transformed from cyclist to commuter and took the train back to Morpeth for his mystery Friday night. Suitably refreshed, Derek’s group finished their last leg and all were safely lodged at the Honest Lawyer.
Being picky, at around 45 miles the 1st day’s cycle was a trifle short but at least the rain subsided and all would be set up nicely for what was to be a tough Saturday.
I’m told the ride from Cramlington to Shields and then Shields to Sunderland was drama free, just wet. Some uninteresting facts along the way.
Tony Gillon had a new bike, so did Ian Mc although his wouldn’t be tested until Saturday.
Paul Flint had a bike with his name on.
The van, kindly provided by Paul, was a Citroen and it drove brilliantly.
Phil’s steed would be its last outing, destined for the scrap yard (should keep the yard’s welders busy for a week or so)
Hedley, sorry I mean Tony, brought his road bike in surprisingly good order. Peter Phillipson would have been proud to see Tony at last take note of his advice. (For the uninformed, somewhere in the rain clouds above Hawes mending punctures some years ago now, Peter said Tony’s other bike was shite)
It was clear in the Sunderland area that the squad were well spread out. Bob Young decided to go off-piste in Sunderland city centre to admire the University campus at St Peter’s and the nearby church. Bob went one further when he decided to have a similar jaunt around the town of Seaham, some locals now on first name terms. In truth, Bob like few others had missed the Lord Byron café, the designated lunch stop.
After last year’s escapades, I thought Mark Livingstone would be wary of Tony Hedley Tours, a subsidiary designed to maximize the CRAP cycle experience, alas 7
not and Mark (with Tony) could proudly boast cycling many more miles than anyone else. They too have sound knowledge of all that Seaham town has to offer. Lord Brown officially announced that the Lord Byron Café sold THE best coffee in the North East. Couldn’t argue with that.
After lunch this was the situation:
The fast lads (Richard Mc, Paul Flint, Greg Young) hadn’t been seen since 9:20am. In fact, not seen again until all arrived at the Honest Lawyer Hotel. Of the rest, two distinct groups emerged although ‘Tony Hedley Tours’ broke away briefly to include Houghton-Le-Spring on their itinerary. For brevity, I’ll call the two factions: Phil’s group and Derek Smith’s group. Somehow without knowing it, one group passed the other somewhere around Lyons Parks in Hetton-Le-Hole, a lovely town by the way. All insist they followed the route exactly. As van driver for the day, I was utterly confused. Never Mind. All were safe and all on their way to Durham town. (The fast lads were already at the hotel. Arrived at 1:30pm apparently). Derek’s group took in water at the Swan and Cygnet and waited. Phil’s group didn’t. Bob Young successfully transformed from cyclist to commuter and took the train back to Morpeth for his mystery Friday night. Suitably refreshed, Derek’s group finished their last leg and all were safely lodged at the Honest Lawyer.
Being picky, at around 45 miles the 1st day’s cycle was a trifle short but at least the rain subsided and all would be set up nicely for what was to be a tough Saturday.
Friday night
I had been fearful that if nothing much happened on the ride, I would be presenting a lame blog, I needn’t have worried. Food at the hotel was good enough and all done and dusted by 6:30pm. It was time to find a pool table. 10
We found a pub, ‘The John Duck’, which had a pool table. First to strike the balls was John Hill, doing his Space Cadet impression. His mind was definitely somewhere else, a distillery vat in Central Scotland I think.
With only two games played, the table was removed to make room for a live band. That still gave Ian Mc (anorak) time to find out what John Duck was all about. After a concise and extremely informative address, all crappers now know John Duck was a 17th Century butcher who became very rich, became Mayor of Durham and also became Baronet of Haswell on The Hill. His fortune began when a raven dropped a gold coin in front of him, he then came across a farmer struggling with two cows on the way to market. Duck bought the cows, made a profit and never looked back. More CRAP culture eh?
We were sent to ‘The Library’ to continue our pool competition. An odd name for a pub but this place had two pool tables. Whey-hey. Not only that but it had a dart board, bar football, speedball, a TV and lots of students. This was like a playground for grownups. (Not us- obviously.) The pool competition flowed while some watched the rugby. Towards the end, Hedley and Mark teamed up (as they had all day) to play Richard Mc and ‘Flinty’ in a feisty battle of bar football. Don’t have to tell you who came out on top- Tony Hedley (and Mark), of course.
Now a split camp. Some wanted to go back to the Duck for the second set of the live music. Some didn’t. Never thought I would ever say this but "Tony Hedley in a Champagne Bar". Yes, Tony and others didn’t fancy the live band so tried other places. They ended up in the Champagne Bar where trouble erupted over a Gin and Soda which should have been a Gin and Tonic. Staff were having none of it apparently, until the manager intervened. The drink was eventually replaced, but the manager drew the line at replacing the ghastly coloured umbrella.
Meanwhile, 8 or so older men sat at a John Duck table and waited for the music. Everything happened at once. The lead singer came on. A Sher lookalike, around forty something, wearing vertically striped pants. We all agreed that she must have fallen out with ‘Everyone in the world’ because at least one kindly person could have told her those pants were not for her. We decided she had to be a drugs courier using the pants to conceal the bags. She had lumps and bumps where no one should have them, such is the power of alcohol the conversation got more and more silly.
Then a forty something couple came in and placed themselves directly in front of us-blocking our view of the pantaloons. The dapper male, wearing expensive clothes and shoes, had clearly brought out someone else’s wife for the night. The lady in question removed her coat to reveal a see through blouse and tight leather trousers. She then carried out a most audacious courting ritual, mainly involving a thrusting bottom gyrating towards Mr Dapper’s groin. Lord Brown was convinced she was doing this for our benefit as much as anyone else’s.
It was awkward, there was nowhere else to look-except for the odd glimpse of weirdy-pants singing away in the background.
The music started badly with a couple of poppy songs. No one can remember what they were. Personally I was ready to leave but then a few ‘Free’ numbers came up which she sang well and it all got better. 'The Hunter' and 'All Right Now.'
Lord Brown showed his true self as the karaoke king when Lady pants went walkabout and shoved the mic’ in his face. He hit the right notes mind you.
Another karaoke prospect, a Judy look alike (Punch and Judy that is) came across and said she was a nurse, that we should be careful, she can kill us, she had the key to the pharmacy cabinet, quite worrying really. Note to self; don’t take ill in Durham.
Anyway this nurse had been a bit of a nuisance trying to grab the mic’ which we thought was amusing. She was handed her own microphone and sang away to her hearts content little knowing that it wasn’t switched on.
Just as we were leaving L‘ Brown pounced on a couple of ‘older‘ girls telling them they should take him away and abuse him. We pointed out that they were trannies, "Were they?" he said. (Actually they weren’t..... As far as I know anyway, not being that worldly) Taxi back and a quiet drink in the hotel bar, just to put the world right, deciding what to tell Mr Trump, sort out Korea etc.
I had been fearful that if nothing much happened on the ride, I would be presenting a lame blog, I needn’t have worried. Food at the hotel was good enough and all done and dusted by 6:30pm. It was time to find a pool table. 10
We found a pub, ‘The John Duck’, which had a pool table. First to strike the balls was John Hill, doing his Space Cadet impression. His mind was definitely somewhere else, a distillery vat in Central Scotland I think.
With only two games played, the table was removed to make room for a live band. That still gave Ian Mc (anorak) time to find out what John Duck was all about. After a concise and extremely informative address, all crappers now know John Duck was a 17th Century butcher who became very rich, became Mayor of Durham and also became Baronet of Haswell on The Hill. His fortune began when a raven dropped a gold coin in front of him, he then came across a farmer struggling with two cows on the way to market. Duck bought the cows, made a profit and never looked back. More CRAP culture eh?
We were sent to ‘The Library’ to continue our pool competition. An odd name for a pub but this place had two pool tables. Whey-hey. Not only that but it had a dart board, bar football, speedball, a TV and lots of students. This was like a playground for grownups. (Not us- obviously.) The pool competition flowed while some watched the rugby. Towards the end, Hedley and Mark teamed up (as they had all day) to play Richard Mc and ‘Flinty’ in a feisty battle of bar football. Don’t have to tell you who came out on top- Tony Hedley (and Mark), of course.
Now a split camp. Some wanted to go back to the Duck for the second set of the live music. Some didn’t. Never thought I would ever say this but "Tony Hedley in a Champagne Bar". Yes, Tony and others didn’t fancy the live band so tried other places. They ended up in the Champagne Bar where trouble erupted over a Gin and Soda which should have been a Gin and Tonic. Staff were having none of it apparently, until the manager intervened. The drink was eventually replaced, but the manager drew the line at replacing the ghastly coloured umbrella.
Meanwhile, 8 or so older men sat at a John Duck table and waited for the music. Everything happened at once. The lead singer came on. A Sher lookalike, around forty something, wearing vertically striped pants. We all agreed that she must have fallen out with ‘Everyone in the world’ because at least one kindly person could have told her those pants were not for her. We decided she had to be a drugs courier using the pants to conceal the bags. She had lumps and bumps where no one should have them, such is the power of alcohol the conversation got more and more silly.
Then a forty something couple came in and placed themselves directly in front of us-blocking our view of the pantaloons. The dapper male, wearing expensive clothes and shoes, had clearly brought out someone else’s wife for the night. The lady in question removed her coat to reveal a see through blouse and tight leather trousers. She then carried out a most audacious courting ritual, mainly involving a thrusting bottom gyrating towards Mr Dapper’s groin. Lord Brown was convinced she was doing this for our benefit as much as anyone else’s.
It was awkward, there was nowhere else to look-except for the odd glimpse of weirdy-pants singing away in the background.
The music started badly with a couple of poppy songs. No one can remember what they were. Personally I was ready to leave but then a few ‘Free’ numbers came up which she sang well and it all got better. 'The Hunter' and 'All Right Now.'
Lord Brown showed his true self as the karaoke king when Lady pants went walkabout and shoved the mic’ in his face. He hit the right notes mind you.
Another karaoke prospect, a Judy look alike (Punch and Judy that is) came across and said she was a nurse, that we should be careful, she can kill us, she had the key to the pharmacy cabinet, quite worrying really. Note to self; don’t take ill in Durham.
Anyway this nurse had been a bit of a nuisance trying to grab the mic’ which we thought was amusing. She was handed her own microphone and sang away to her hearts content little knowing that it wasn’t switched on.
Just as we were leaving L‘ Brown pounced on a couple of ‘older‘ girls telling them they should take him away and abuse him. We pointed out that they were trannies, "Were they?" he said. (Actually they weren’t..... As far as I know anyway, not being that worldly) Taxi back and a quiet drink in the hotel bar, just to put the world right, deciding what to tell Mr Trump, sort out Korea etc.
Saturday
Seemed calm. No rain but cloudy in most of the sky. Could have been worse, could have been Friday. Good breakfast. I say good breakfast, but a certain Lord was unhappy with the design and functionality of the hotel’s auto toaster. Can’t keep a Nobleman waiting, 3 runs for a light tan was simply not good enough. Turning the knob to High he filled the dining room with smoke and the smell of burnt toast.
Where I had a totally drama free van day, Phil did not.
Greg and Richard decided to have a lie in and they started their ride after ten, however they were up and about to wave us off before their breakfast.
The fast lads were off. I know not where.
It all started about twenty minutes into the ride when Lord Brown got a puncture just before leaving the god- awful A167. Phil picked him up deciding to repair the puncture at the 1st proper van stop at Lygetts Park in Consett. Derek was gutted that he couldn’t ride the 15 mile wagon- way up to Consett.
As is now the norm’ the group were well split.
Derek’s attempt to repair his puncture failed, he couldn’t get the tyre off the rim. He and Phil diligently waited for the riders at Consett, fed and watered them and then sought a cycle shop in Consett. The group- minus the fast lads -Paul Flint, Bob Young and Tony’s Tours made their way up to Castleside. Richard Mc and Greg were about to leave the hotel and took their own road route to Consett. Somehow they got caught in a terrible 40 minute downpour (Greg referred to his meteorological Terminology book and declared it ‘Pissing down again’)
Tony Gilroy went astray. Ian Mc, Tony Gillon and Colin Robertson held back. Still no Mr. Gilroy. Meanwhile Greg, the bike Destroyer as he is now known, had gone into full swing and exploded his gears on an uphill stretch. It looked pretty terminal.
Without hesitation, Richard told Greg "Pointless us both getting cold, you're pretty much screwed so I‘m off."…… Families Eh?
Lord Derek Brown’s puncture was now fixed but mysteriously bike and rider were still in the van when Phil met up with Ian Mc and Colin on the Muggleswick Moor, still no sign of Tony Gilroy. By a stroke of luck, (clearly not for Derek) Greg rang in and so too did Tony Gilroy.
Both needed picking up, Tony was lost and tired, Greg guilty of criminal damage to a bike- hence no bike. Derek was ousted from the van to make room and so went on to complete a tortuous day cycling the big hills and facing strong headwinds.
Who said it seemed calm?
As is worthy of Peerage, lunch for Derek was a specially prepared hot lunch in the Lord Crew Arms in Blanchland where 'Sir' Derek mixed with friends of Pippa Middleton. A £250,000 wedding was the topic for discussion. Meanwhile the serfs in the group settled for a hot coffee at the local corner shop. The hot meal, a cheese toastie no less, took an age.
No one has dared ask the Lord at what point he intended getting out of the van that day but it doesn’t matter. The truth is he put in a valiant effort and completed the remainder of the day, that 2 ** Michelin toastie provided all of his energy. As he reiterated later in the day, he had survived a massive puncture and a massive day cycling, well worthy of a hot bath. (Not sure how massive the bath was, Derek kept fairly quiet about the bath).
While the day progressed for us cyclists, little did we know, customers and staff at Consett’s Wetherspoons were dicing with death. They had no idea who they were dealing with when they barred the Lycra clad Destroyer of bikes from the premises. claiming he and his wreckage were a health hazard. Yes our Greg had to wait some time before being picked up, why not Wetherspoon’s? The street would have to do.
Funny how lycra is acceptable on the bike but generates much consternation when worn anywhere else.
Phil’s busy van day continued with efforts to get Greg’s bike repaired in Consett, trying his best to support the main ride and towards the end, getting the bags to Haltwhistle where a few of the fast lads had been waiting quite a while.
Tony Hedley had sat quite a while in the Black Bull before telling all that he had somehow managed a room to himself, chuffed to bits he was, enter Phil the Van; "Tony you've got a spare bed-apparently ?" "Bollocks. No snoring mind!" raised a few eyebrows at the bar.
Other odds and ends for the day;
Paul Flint got a puncture.
Our support van got a puncture, albeit a slow one.
No one else got lost.
At 71, John still made it look easy.
I have no idea what route some of the riders took.
Highlight of the day, for me at least, 8 glorious wind assisted miles of great roads from Allenheads to Allendale.
Seemed calm. No rain but cloudy in most of the sky. Could have been worse, could have been Friday. Good breakfast. I say good breakfast, but a certain Lord was unhappy with the design and functionality of the hotel’s auto toaster. Can’t keep a Nobleman waiting, 3 runs for a light tan was simply not good enough. Turning the knob to High he filled the dining room with smoke and the smell of burnt toast.
Where I had a totally drama free van day, Phil did not.
Greg and Richard decided to have a lie in and they started their ride after ten, however they were up and about to wave us off before their breakfast.
The fast lads were off. I know not where.
It all started about twenty minutes into the ride when Lord Brown got a puncture just before leaving the god- awful A167. Phil picked him up deciding to repair the puncture at the 1st proper van stop at Lygetts Park in Consett. Derek was gutted that he couldn’t ride the 15 mile wagon- way up to Consett.
As is now the norm’ the group were well split.
Derek’s attempt to repair his puncture failed, he couldn’t get the tyre off the rim. He and Phil diligently waited for the riders at Consett, fed and watered them and then sought a cycle shop in Consett. The group- minus the fast lads -Paul Flint, Bob Young and Tony’s Tours made their way up to Castleside. Richard Mc and Greg were about to leave the hotel and took their own road route to Consett. Somehow they got caught in a terrible 40 minute downpour (Greg referred to his meteorological Terminology book and declared it ‘Pissing down again’)
Tony Gilroy went astray. Ian Mc, Tony Gillon and Colin Robertson held back. Still no Mr. Gilroy. Meanwhile Greg, the bike Destroyer as he is now known, had gone into full swing and exploded his gears on an uphill stretch. It looked pretty terminal.
Without hesitation, Richard told Greg "Pointless us both getting cold, you're pretty much screwed so I‘m off."…… Families Eh?
Lord Derek Brown’s puncture was now fixed but mysteriously bike and rider were still in the van when Phil met up with Ian Mc and Colin on the Muggleswick Moor, still no sign of Tony Gilroy. By a stroke of luck, (clearly not for Derek) Greg rang in and so too did Tony Gilroy.
Both needed picking up, Tony was lost and tired, Greg guilty of criminal damage to a bike- hence no bike. Derek was ousted from the van to make room and so went on to complete a tortuous day cycling the big hills and facing strong headwinds.
Who said it seemed calm?
As is worthy of Peerage, lunch for Derek was a specially prepared hot lunch in the Lord Crew Arms in Blanchland where 'Sir' Derek mixed with friends of Pippa Middleton. A £250,000 wedding was the topic for discussion. Meanwhile the serfs in the group settled for a hot coffee at the local corner shop. The hot meal, a cheese toastie no less, took an age.
No one has dared ask the Lord at what point he intended getting out of the van that day but it doesn’t matter. The truth is he put in a valiant effort and completed the remainder of the day, that 2 ** Michelin toastie provided all of his energy. As he reiterated later in the day, he had survived a massive puncture and a massive day cycling, well worthy of a hot bath. (Not sure how massive the bath was, Derek kept fairly quiet about the bath).
While the day progressed for us cyclists, little did we know, customers and staff at Consett’s Wetherspoons were dicing with death. They had no idea who they were dealing with when they barred the Lycra clad Destroyer of bikes from the premises. claiming he and his wreckage were a health hazard. Yes our Greg had to wait some time before being picked up, why not Wetherspoon’s? The street would have to do.
Funny how lycra is acceptable on the bike but generates much consternation when worn anywhere else.
Phil’s busy van day continued with efforts to get Greg’s bike repaired in Consett, trying his best to support the main ride and towards the end, getting the bags to Haltwhistle where a few of the fast lads had been waiting quite a while.
Tony Hedley had sat quite a while in the Black Bull before telling all that he had somehow managed a room to himself, chuffed to bits he was, enter Phil the Van; "Tony you've got a spare bed-apparently ?" "Bollocks. No snoring mind!" raised a few eyebrows at the bar.
Other odds and ends for the day;
Paul Flint got a puncture.
Our support van got a puncture, albeit a slow one.
No one else got lost.
At 71, John still made it look easy.
I have no idea what route some of the riders took.
Highlight of the day, for me at least, 8 glorious wind assisted miles of great roads from Allenheads to Allendale.
Saturday Night
Once again a few in the group had been at journeys end for many hours before the stragglers arrived around 5.30pm. Preparations were made for our evening meal at the Centre of Britain Hotel. With poor Phil (and Demolition man) having arrived back from Consett after 7pm, dinner would be served at 8pm.
Oh what a Dinner. As Lord Brown would say, "Massive."
Pointless going on and on about the food here but it was simply fantastic.
At the table there was much discussion about Greg and whose bike he could break on Sunday since his own was not repairable. Someone suggested Greg could be van driver at which point one group member changed colour and produced a canary. Yes- Derek Brown had been de-frocked and now rostered to drive the van on Sunday. Now white van man, he was not going to have it any other way, at any cost. Not negotiable. Final.
Into the Manor House Pub to complete the pool competition.
After a full Saturday's ride and everyone stuffed to the gunnels, it was a quieter and rather civilised chat amongst ourselves before retiring.
Pool Competition (Courtesy of Phil George)
Friday Night; I threw some big lads off the table at ‘The Duck’,
Managed 2 games then the big lass from the band threw US off.
Tony Gillon beat Space Cadet John Hill in what turned out to be the longest game in CRAP history. Andrew Mowbray beat Derek Smith.
Moved to The Library, Tony Hedley beat Ian Mc. Greg beat Roland (in the pool sense only, Roland remained in one piece, an achievement given Greg’s new found pastime) Colin Robertson
Beat Richard Mc, Lord Brown beat me, Paul ‘Flinty’ got a bye because Bob Young was doing things to sheep.
Quarter Final; Tony Gillon beat Andrew Mowbray. Hedley beat Greg. Colin Robertson beat Paul and Lord Brown beat Mark Livingstone (Mark chucked it after losing the will to live in a tedious exchange and steadfast refusal by both to pot anything)
Semi Finals in Haltwhistle; Battle of the Tony’s-Hedley on top.
Colin Robertston beat Lord Brown.
Final; after cagey start Tony beat Colin in a pool game of a very high standard, so much so, the manager challenged the winner. A sort of exhibition match with a bottle of wine (mini bottle) for the victor.
Tony Hedley won that as well.
Once again a few in the group had been at journeys end for many hours before the stragglers arrived around 5.30pm. Preparations were made for our evening meal at the Centre of Britain Hotel. With poor Phil (and Demolition man) having arrived back from Consett after 7pm, dinner would be served at 8pm.
Oh what a Dinner. As Lord Brown would say, "Massive."
Pointless going on and on about the food here but it was simply fantastic.
At the table there was much discussion about Greg and whose bike he could break on Sunday since his own was not repairable. Someone suggested Greg could be van driver at which point one group member changed colour and produced a canary. Yes- Derek Brown had been de-frocked and now rostered to drive the van on Sunday. Now white van man, he was not going to have it any other way, at any cost. Not negotiable. Final.
Into the Manor House Pub to complete the pool competition.
After a full Saturday's ride and everyone stuffed to the gunnels, it was a quieter and rather civilised chat amongst ourselves before retiring.
Pool Competition (Courtesy of Phil George)
Friday Night; I threw some big lads off the table at ‘The Duck’,
Managed 2 games then the big lass from the band threw US off.
Tony Gillon beat Space Cadet John Hill in what turned out to be the longest game in CRAP history. Andrew Mowbray beat Derek Smith.
Moved to The Library, Tony Hedley beat Ian Mc. Greg beat Roland (in the pool sense only, Roland remained in one piece, an achievement given Greg’s new found pastime) Colin Robertson
Beat Richard Mc, Lord Brown beat me, Paul ‘Flinty’ got a bye because Bob Young was doing things to sheep.
Quarter Final; Tony Gillon beat Andrew Mowbray. Hedley beat Greg. Colin Robertson beat Paul and Lord Brown beat Mark Livingstone (Mark chucked it after losing the will to live in a tedious exchange and steadfast refusal by both to pot anything)
Semi Finals in Haltwhistle; Battle of the Tony’s-Hedley on top.
Colin Robertston beat Lord Brown.
Final; after cagey start Tony beat Colin in a pool game of a very high standard, so much so, the manager challenged the winner. A sort of exhibition match with a bottle of wine (mini bottle) for the victor.
Tony Hedley won that as well.
Sunday Morning
An excellent breakfast and with everyone in good spirits, the weather glorious and a kind wind blowing, it couldn't get any better than this. The logical decision to allow Greg to use Derek's bike was arrived at and with Paul Flint's knowledge and knowhow, the bike was adjusted. Some adjustment- the height difference between Greg and Derek about 2' 6".
Like previous last day rides, the group were quickly spread and many of us didn't see each other until back at the Snowy Owl later in the day.
Derek the Van supported well. He was spotted at Bardon Mill before the first climb of the day and also along Staingate before our glorious decent into Newbrough and Fourstones.
Greg gave us one last reminder of his talents when half way up a hill he detached Derek's saddle bag from the frame, not sure how this could be done under load at 20% gradient, but he did it.
A welcome van stop in Fourstones, (like the old days) before negotiating Hexham and the second climb.
Although wind assisted the climb was still tough mainly due to the heat! Never happy are we. Just what are the perfect cycling conditions?
After Hexham, the 2nd 'climb' and a short stint on the Military Road. We stopped at the Errington Arms for lunch. Phone call from Van man; "What time you due at Hexham Golf Club, I'm here now." Phil "About an hour ago, we're at the pub."
Refreshed and re-grouped it was all out for the final push. (for the slow group anyhow, the fast lads were probably home by now.)
No dramas, just a steady ride through Matfen, Stamfordham, Ponteland and back to the Snowy Owl.
A great Sunday effort from Tony Gilroy who was determined to get back on his bike and stay the course. Done with flying colours after a troubled Saturday.
Of course the ride ended with two nice pints at the Snowy Owl and a chat about what we do next year.
As Derek would say, a massive thankyou to Paul Flint for a support van which kept costs down.
We have raised over £200 for the Pancreatic Cancer UK charity and with any luck our exploits will be highlighted in the Newspost Leader under '30 years of C.R.A.P.
Cheers
Ian Mc
An excellent breakfast and with everyone in good spirits, the weather glorious and a kind wind blowing, it couldn't get any better than this. The logical decision to allow Greg to use Derek's bike was arrived at and with Paul Flint's knowledge and knowhow, the bike was adjusted. Some adjustment- the height difference between Greg and Derek about 2' 6".
Like previous last day rides, the group were quickly spread and many of us didn't see each other until back at the Snowy Owl later in the day.
Derek the Van supported well. He was spotted at Bardon Mill before the first climb of the day and also along Staingate before our glorious decent into Newbrough and Fourstones.
Greg gave us one last reminder of his talents when half way up a hill he detached Derek's saddle bag from the frame, not sure how this could be done under load at 20% gradient, but he did it.
A welcome van stop in Fourstones, (like the old days) before negotiating Hexham and the second climb.
Although wind assisted the climb was still tough mainly due to the heat! Never happy are we. Just what are the perfect cycling conditions?
After Hexham, the 2nd 'climb' and a short stint on the Military Road. We stopped at the Errington Arms for lunch. Phone call from Van man; "What time you due at Hexham Golf Club, I'm here now." Phil "About an hour ago, we're at the pub."
Refreshed and re-grouped it was all out for the final push. (for the slow group anyhow, the fast lads were probably home by now.)
No dramas, just a steady ride through Matfen, Stamfordham, Ponteland and back to the Snowy Owl.
A great Sunday effort from Tony Gilroy who was determined to get back on his bike and stay the course. Done with flying colours after a troubled Saturday.
Of course the ride ended with two nice pints at the Snowy Owl and a chat about what we do next year.
As Derek would say, a massive thankyou to Paul Flint for a support van which kept costs down.
We have raised over £200 for the Pancreatic Cancer UK charity and with any luck our exploits will be highlighted in the Newspost Leader under '30 years of C.R.A.P.
Cheers
Ian Mc