9am we assembled at T&P, a full compliment of lycra clad nutters. The route was disgorged to the assembled crew. We set off at the allotted time. rolling swiftly down through the village, the first climb of Ballo weighing heavily on the legs. Campmuir first, that burst water main still running (see if they introduce a hose pipe ban… words will be had). Ballo is getting closer. The pack rolls relentlessly on to the foot of Ballo. We spy another group of Sunday cyclists – who had clearly just descended the wee hump that is known as Ballo. We started the climb, the pack split. The other Sunday group cruise passed DB and AW. One of their number had an Orange jacket like DBs and as they pased him AW did wonder in his confused Ballo mind where DB had found more energy than usual and was sprinting up Ballo. AW engaged them in conversation. It was good to see they could hardly speak too . Ballo crested and the descent endured. Now there is a funny wee dip before we climb again. This dip has to have the worst bit of road ever in it. I think the road has been washed away by another burst water main. Anyway, AW gets about 20 yards past the on road off road section, when his rear tyre deflates like a whoopee cushion under an fat bloke. Cursing, he starts the repairing of the errant tube, and as he does he notices another fluorescent jacket tinkering with a deflated tyre about 200 yards further up the hill. It’s Alan, his front tyre has gone too. We regroup at the top of the hill AWs tyre does not have enough air (bit like his lungs). We set off for Knapp John and Alan are pulling away from every body (probably hoping to find a 30 limit to claim). As we approach the Longforgan turn, there is no sign of the lead two, so the rest of us head towards Liff. We are discussing how far ahead the lead two must be, when John appears behind us. He is questioning why we are where we are. So, it turns out the they never heard the word “don’t” in the instructions “Don’t go under the carriage way and don’t go to Longforgan”.
We are within a hairs breadth of The Mains of Fowlis when Alans rear lets go as does his bike tyre 🙂 We all discus fuck knows what and watch Alan repair his tyre.
How many people does it take to change an inner tube. Five! 2 to hold the bike, 1 to supervise, 1 to film and 1 to actually do the work. Check the video.
We set off for Fowlis and Muirend. There is only one major hump in the way of us and our scones. The wee hump in the way leads us to Auchterhouse, but it still climbs and now we have a head wind, the pack is splintered. When I say splintered, it probably covers a couple of miles. The whoosh to Newtyle is a welcome respite, before pushing on the Meigle Coffee shop.
At the shop, I spy my bikes little sister, bet its front mech still works , we enter and order our usual. Tea and scones, braw!
The road back to home is into the wind, we always knew we had this ahead of us. Over the course of this run there have been many 30’s contested, won, disputed, and uncontested. Ardler, appears on the horizon, we bunch up behind BP (he notices)… 200 yds to go DB makes his move, John reacts first and heads round the outside. Daves efforts are in vain, no wait he has boxed Bill in. John and Alan race for the 30’s. John wins. Bill is not happy, he suspects foul play on Daves part… its not the case he claims, just a coincidence, honest!
The rest of the run to Woodside is uneventful. John and Bill are accelerating towards the Woodside 30’s.. its a hard sprint… Bill wins by yet another baw hair. Still there is a god, when we all regroup outside T&P Bill and John are suffering for their efforts and massaging their own hamstirngs…LOL
Where to next week Alan?