Last ride of 2013
After the Christmas ride with the GLC, I decided that I
wanted to get the riding going again. So that evening I posted a ride out on
the GLC forum, for the next weekend. I also rang a couple of friends to invite
them along too. So times and dates where all set and there would be at least
four of us attending.
I had the route set, in my head, which I wanted to follow,
but the problem I had was that when I sent my Satmap back for repair I had
accidently deleted all my routes, and
not having ridden for a while my memory of some of the further away loops were
vague. So I set about re-mapping and plotting.
With it already being Saturday and the middle part of the route
still vague in my head, I decided to ask Dave if he didn’t mind leading this
part of the ride. As a backup I also asked Josh if he didn’t mind, but it was
then he decided to tell me that he couldn’t make it due to being ill.
Sunday was now looking like a three man ride as I had no
replies on the forum, although this didn’t bother me and Josh had now pulled
out. The forum is a funny thing, you find people will say they are coming then
not turn up, or no one will confirm that they are coming and a few will arrive
last minute.
Sunday morning had arrived and it wasn’t as forecast. The
forecast was for a nice day but at this point it was overcast with dizzily
rain. I made the short ride to the fuel station and filled up; I brought some
new batteries for my GPS and waited for anyone to arrive. I was due to leave
the petrol station at nine and meet Dave at the John Bunyan pub at around nine
thirty. By nine fifteen no one had arrived so I decided to make my way to meet
Dave.
Lane one is only a few hundred yards from the petrol
station. It’s only a short lane but one of my favourites. It hasn’t been graded
and it remains a natural lane. The grass lay across the lane doing its best to
hide the ruts and making the surface unpredictably slippery. There is a sharp
corner about half way along that is rutted, not deeply, but enough to make me a
little wary so on the approach I drop down from the standing position, sat as
far forward on the tank leg out trying to use the rut as a berm to help me
round. Once round I was back up on the pegs for the rest of the lane, this part
of the lane is enclosed by trees, the ground is leaf covered mud that’s slightly
loose under the wheel. Dead fallen trees lined the edge of the lane from the
recent high winds.
I rode the road down to the fords that were now running high
due to the recent rain, the water wasn’t its usual crystal clearness, and was a
murky brown, hiding the gravel bottom. I
could have taken a detour over the bridge but decided to tackle the river,
although deeper than usual the current wasn’t too strong and the crossing
wasn’t too bad. Fords now dispatched
there was just one more lane to tackle before I met up with Dave.
I arrived safely at the end of the lane, but Dave was not to
be seen so I decided to chill for a while. The sky was now blue dotted with
large white clouds. The trees and hedgerows were brown and here and there, dark
green ivy climbed up through the hedge and tree trunks. The fields lay baron
and brown whilst the grass banks were a rich green. The lane was wet and rutted
with an ivy covered small tree blocking its entrance.
A short time passed and I heard the distant rumble of an
engine heading toward me. Dave arrived soon after, with the warning that the
lane was slippery and treacherous. The
lane for the most part is bank either side, these banks where covered in golden
brown leaves, fallen trees had been pulled to the sides to make the way clear
and here and there along its length braking the winter brown of the landscape were
green holly trees. Just before the end of the lane a large, long and deep
puddle covered the trail. Once through
the puddle we ascended up a short root stepped bank which led us up to the
road. We then caught the road to the
next lane which in part is tarmac and the other graded so we made quick work of
it.
At the end of this lane my intentions were to turn left, but
Dave suggested we go right. It meant cutting a chunk out of the ride, but it
also meant we had more time to explore. I had asked Dave to show me a short
lane which he uses to link up a small section of the loop he rides and this was
our next lane, after we had done some extensive road work. I have ridden this
lane many times before. It is only a short lane most of which has been graded
and flat. But it was a lane that was going to catch me out big time. Now I knew
where it was and how to find it I set off at a fair pace. I had travelled along about half the length of
the lane when I rounded a corner. On the line which I was taking the heavy rain
from the last few weeks had washed away a section of the path exposing a large
root. I have in the past coped easily with bigger step ups than this, but as
the front wheel hit the root it slid violently to the right causing me to steer
to the left. Then in a split second I had hit an overhanging tree which knocked
me backwards and sent the bike spinning through the air. I looked up to see the
bike at ninety degrees to the lane with its handle bars buried into the bank. I
jumped up full of adrenalin checked myself over then went to check on the bike.
The bike was fine the handle bars were a little out of line, but nothing
serious and the hand guard had been knocked up, which was soon put right by a
short sharp tap.
From here Dave took the lead as I wasn’t quite sure of the
best way to go. The next two lanes where known to me, but again as I rounded a
corner the rear wheel stepped out scaring me a little. This proved to me that
you need to practice to stay on top of things. A small amount of road work saw
on some familiar lanes once again. It
was here that we met up with a couple of quad bikers and a motorcyclist. We passed
them and headed toward the end of the lane. We were on the last section when I
made the silliest mistake of the day. The end of the lane had several deep
puddles along its length. I decided to take the right hand bank to avoid the
puddles. But it had recently been cleared and had several trees lying along it.
I thought I would be clever and pop the front wheel over these trunks and avoid
the puddles. No, what happened was I
didn’t pop the front wheel enough going over the first log, as it was wet the
front wheel then tracked along the log causing me to fall off toward the puddle
I had been trying to avoid. The next thing I knew my hand to elbow is submerged
in water. I’ve managed to avoid a
soaking, but on retrieving my bike I notice that the hand guard was now
catching the clutch, so at the end of the lane we stopped so I could make some
minor repairs.
Whilst making the repairs to my bike, the quads and other
trails ride turned up. I tinkered away and Dave got reacquainted with the
trails rider; apparently back in the day they used to ride at the TBEC
together. Introductions were made and it was agreed that we would join forces
and ride as a group. So we headed back up the lane we had just ridden. At the
end of the lane we waited then waited some more. The sun had now come out and
the weather was good. The trail rider said he would go and check where the
quads had gone. We waited some more, on his return he informed us that they had
taken the wrong route, but where close behind and would soon be with us. We
then waited a bit longer then some more. Eventually it was agreed that Dave and
I should carry on and let the rider go back and find his friends. Hopefully we
might meet at another point during the day.
Dave and I now set off again. Dave has a wealth of knowledge
of the lanes around this area and now started to show me a mixture of lanes
that I had already ridden and some I didn’t know of. There was also a nice mixture of fire road
and graded lanes and untouched muddy, slippery lanes. Slowly we covered lanes making our way back
toward home and soon I once again knew where I was. However Dave still
surprised me with some lanes I didn’t know off. Although riding now for several years I still
need to learn some essential skills such as the wheelie. Wheelies aren’t for
showboating but play an important part of riding, for coming off of banks or
getting over logs etc. I would also like to be able to spin the bike on its
axis. But today’s lesson was on how to
roost your mate. A useless piece of
knowledge unless of course you want to cover the person behind you in mud. It was now past lunch and I was once again on
familiar ground, so we decided to make our way to the garage to refuel both
ourselves and the bikes.
We sat for a while and had a chuckle about the morning’s
ride and activities. However the day was getting on, and we had to make a decision
on what we were going to do for the rest of it. One thing was for sure and that
was we were going to tackle Fox’s Lane. This lane always has an amount of water
running along and we wanted to see just how deep it had gotten. Soon it was
time for the off, we made our way to the lane. We had just started when we
rounded the corner to meet two four by fours blocking the way. They hadn’t
broken down or anything like that, they were in fact just ferreting and although
one walked out to see what was coming, they made no effort to move. I quickly
weighed up the situation and made my way around the inconsiderate ferreters. Dave
joined me shortly afterward; we now tackled the wet lane I was thinking ahead trying
to map the best route available to me, which is hard when all you can see is a
nice flat level surface of water. We were doing well, the line I had guessed
was most of the time round hub deep. Then suddenly, but I can’t say
unexpectedly, the front wheel was suddenly engulfed. The engine stopped dead
and I must admit I thought the engine had sucked in water through the air box. I
quickly pushed the start button and luckily she started straight away. I continued
relieved but with slightly wet feet. Once through and in what I considered to
be a safe place I turned round to see how Dave was getting on. We both made it
through safely, even if we did paddle a little, and then headed off to the next
lane.
We covered a few more lanes and ended up at a point where we
were both about the same distances away from our homes. Whichever way we went
now one of us would be travelling away from home. The days are short at this
time of year and when the sun goes down it gets cold very quickly. So after a
quick chat we both decided that today had been a good day and that it was now
time to quit while the going was good and make our way home.
I was really hoping that there wasn’t going to be a big turnout,
the thought of a lot of people depending on me for a good day’s ride was a little
daunting. But I needn’t have worried. The weather had been awful the past few
weeks and I think this put most people off. I arrived at the petrol station
about 5 minutes late, I fuelled up and paid, Dave was waiting for me when I came
out and we talked about going to the Isle of Man TT. He had a spare place as
someone had dropped out. I really wanted to go, but unfortunately had already
booked the dates up, to go on a European tour. As we talked Woods an old mate I
hadn’t seen for a very long time turned up and we chatted for a while, just
catching up on what had happened in the last year or so. 
The time now was nearly 10am and it was quite clear no one
else was going to turn up so we fired up the bikes and headed off. The first
lane was to prove a tester of what the rest of the day was going to bring, and I
was unprepared as to just how difficult the ride was going to be and glad our
group was small. Weeks of solid rain had turn the lane into a slurry trap, my
lack of riding lately saw me sliding everywhere, the nerves kicked in and my
riding pace slowed to a crawl. I wobbled, slipped and skidded to the end of the
lane, where I stopped abruptly puffing like an old steam train, with my heart
beating through my chest. Five weeks of doing nothing had clearly taken its
toll. I was knackered and could have quite easily packed up then and there, and
gone home. 
The next lane involved two river crossings, but as I approached
I saw the rivers had swollen with the weeks of torrential rain. With my lack of
ability clearly highlighted on the first lane, I decided that to tackle the
fast flowing deep river was best avoided and so we took the bridge instead. Later
in the day I was to find out I had made
the right choice, as I recall a friend of mine who I 4X4 with had told me he
had driven through it the evening before in his 110 Land Rover, and the water
had come over his bonnet. 
The next few lanes saw my confidence grow a little my
technique return and my speed slowly but surely increase. After tackling a lane
I love, because of its length and just because of the way it is, we stopped for
a break. It was then I noticed Woods’ front sprocket, well let’s just say it
was more of a washer now than a sprocket. After a chat we decided it was best
to change the planned route, to one that would see us heading back toward his
house. 
The ride was going well, Woods sprocket was holding, we were
covering all types of terrain, broad gravel fire roads, muddy rutted trails,
slippery clay lanes and steep gnarly root covered hills. By late lunch we had
made the pub where we would split and make our own separate ways. Woods was now
only a few miles road ride away from home. I would back track and make my own
way home. But before that, we had a drink some food and took the chance to
catch up a little more.
The time came to Part Company and head our separate ways. We agreed to contact each other once we’d gotten
home just to make sure we were ok. Woods headed off down the road and I must
admit the noise of the slipping sprocket didn’t sound good or bode well. I headed
off back down the lanes. I made good steady progress home, my riding
continually improving. On my journey I passed a group of eight or so riders. The
weather was good with broken cloud and sunshine, the lane were mostly empty,
probably to the fact that it had rained constantly for the last three weeks and
the general condition of the lanes.
I arrived home safely around mid-afternoon. I was happy with
the day’s ride. I put the bike away, had a shower and then text Woods. He replied
saying he’d got home eventually; he’d apparently got within a mile or so of
home when his sprocket had given up and he had also got pulled by the old bill
for having a small number plate. He had luckily managed to get in contact with
a friend who then collected him and his bike.
All in all it was a good ride to start the year.
