Off the Back Archive - 29th June 2008 Lord Baltimore finds a friend.

Another Sunday so it must be time for one of the Patron's exercise's in pain. The Patron nearly faints in orgasmic delight when he spots the new Bianchi c.2.c on top of the Matinee idol's car. He finally has the bike to go with his movie star looks. The Patron just manages to wait until the bike is off the roof before getting on for a go (but it was touch and go). The Crapi's are down by one today as Chris has to go and play with bits of cars. The deficit is made up by Dave from the Oswestry club. The Patron says it's a new route (we find out en route exactly how new!).

Your cuddly (ok, fat) Lantern feels he must step up and go on the front a bit in Chris's absence. Ten miles in, with the pace showing no signs of abating, it’s time for a rethink. Dave looks equally stunned. For all the talk of taking it steady the Patron and Rocket Ronnie just can't help themselves. Twenty miles in and the pace is still high, over 17mph average, well at least Dave is suffering as well! Next thing Dave wizzes to the front looking very comfy, is it drugs or has he just found his legs. It looks like a long lonesome road of hanging on the back for the Lantern. Respite for me arrives in the unlikely form of a herd of cows returning from milking. I catch up and we idle away the time looking at the best looking farmer anyone has ever seen.

Soon we are off again and the drags are killing me (and me back!!). We pass through a very pleasant village whilst the Patron looks for a turning, he's sure it's round here somewhere, he just manages to stop himself asking the Rocket which way he thinks it is. Eventually after a delightful detour we arrive back in the same village, where the patron contrives to make out it was all part of the plan. Eventually he finds a road that's steep enough for him and we set off up it. Another endless drag which everyone else cantered up whereas I did my by now celebrated impression of a ninety year old with emphysema who's smoked 90 a day. Reaching the top I find a conference about which way to go, the Matinee Idol has a very serious look on his chops - the cafe stop is looming and no one seems to know where the cafe is! We turn right and the heavens open and we get our first drenching of the day. Just when I think things can't get any worse we top a hill on a nice little B road and the 15% downhill has been resurfaced and there are chippings like ball bearings everywhere. Matinee casts a despairing look at his new shiny paintwork. The Patron decides it’s too steep and gets off (see it’s not just me!!). Only the Rocket and me (your intrepid Lantern) risk the descent at any pace. I can't control myself and fly past Ron, it was worth it just to see his face!! How I got round the next right hander I'm not sure, suffice to say I was looking for a soft landing. We stop at the crossroads for another team talk and strike out for Church Stoke. Eventually we reach civilisation - the cafe stop - after only 38 miles. Things are not looking good at this stage (and before you ask no I wasn't riding behind the Patron), it’s a long way back to Oswestry from here and I'm knackered. Soon after the cafe stop another team talk re directions (this one designed to minimise my sufferings), when asked Ron utters the immortal "I don't mind as long as we pick the pace up a bit". Oh dear! Within 5 miles of the cafe stop it’s raining again and by the time we hit the A483 at Welshpool I can barely make out Dave's back wheel in front of me. The ride up the A483, for the most part, passed in torrent of water and pain. Thanks to the effects of the diazapam I slipped Ron when no one was looking the pace is sufficiently genteel (between 18-25mph less you think the rest of the crapis are getting soft) for me to hang on until we are almost back in Oswestry. The elastic snaps with about 4 miles to go and I trundle in after Dave has departed. My average speed was 16mph over nearly 63 miles (god knows what average the rest of the crapis had) and I feel more knackered than the previous week. With barely a word I slink off home.

Now I've showered and eaten it all looks a whole lot better, another enjoyable romp through the countryside with the dashing hero's who make up the crapi peleton. Thanks again to the Patron, Rocket Ronnie and the Matinee Idol (and Dave from Oswestry) for getting me round and not getting too grumpy when my lack of miles began to show (about a mile into the ride!) - it is appreciated.