After months of speculation and planning, accommodation has now been booked for the Crapiwheelers trip to the Alps next Summer. Preparations are already in full flight even at this stage. The Rhostyllen boys have enrolled on a group therapy programme to combat the inevitable signs of 'village-withdrawal' sickness, Robbo's topping up his fake tan, Al Lewis is taking six months off the bike to ensure that he's as fit as the rest of us and Ian is practising blowing out of his ar*e in readiness for his return to his nemesis - the dreaded Col Du Glandon.
Can't wait.
Wednesday 2 December 2009
29/11/09 - A birthday and Beer
Today is a special day for the CRAPI peleton; the big daddy of the group - Le Patron - is 50 years young today. Despite looking like an anorexic pug following swine flu, his enthusiasm is undimmed from the first time he berated my shortcomings on a bike almost 5 years ago. If you are meeting at 9am he’s outside his front gate at ten to, anxiously pacing up and down; eager to be off. As it’s a special day Mark also puts in an appearance and, just for Le Patron, its raining as we set off.
Apart from being wet and chilly the ride out to meet the Matinee Idol is remarkably without incident though it seems harder going uphill than the previous week. Once the Idol joins the ranks the pace begins to creep up on the road to Oswestry. Strengths are being tested and Le Patron, today of all days, seems determined to give no quarter. The Lantern watches all this wearily whilst yo-yoing off the back.
Remarkably we arrive at the café without incident and without my legs feeling like they are going to fall off. At the café Le Patron has several surprises - we’ve got him a cake, Ian & Fiona at the café have provided beer and Alan Lewis is there & smiling!! Le Patron sits there grinning like a schoolboy who’s just seen his first copy of Mayfair, drinking beer and fondling his torque wrench in a, frankly, disturbing fashion. The café stop progresses with more beer, cake and bacon buttys/eggs on toast all round. By the time the peleton pulls out we‘ve all put on about half a stone in weight and its not far up the road before half the group has to agree to a comfort break.
The ride back is nice and sedate and Le Patron seems in no hurry to end his birthday ride. After bidding adieu to Paul and Mark the remnants of the Peleton retire to Le Patron’s for yet more cake and tea.
Le Patron (Big Al in case you haven’t yet worked it out) said he thoroughly enjoyed his birthday ride which is the least he deserves for all the enjoyment, encouragement and comradeship he has given us all over the years. Hopefully I’ll still be make comebacks and riding alongside Al for another 40 years or so - maybe by then I’ll be able to catch him - but I wouldn’t bet on it!!
Apart from being wet and chilly the ride out to meet the Matinee Idol is remarkably without incident though it seems harder going uphill than the previous week. Once the Idol joins the ranks the pace begins to creep up on the road to Oswestry. Strengths are being tested and Le Patron, today of all days, seems determined to give no quarter. The Lantern watches all this wearily whilst yo-yoing off the back.
Remarkably we arrive at the café without incident and without my legs feeling like they are going to fall off. At the café Le Patron has several surprises - we’ve got him a cake, Ian & Fiona at the café have provided beer and Alan Lewis is there & smiling!! Le Patron sits there grinning like a schoolboy who’s just seen his first copy of Mayfair, drinking beer and fondling his torque wrench in a, frankly, disturbing fashion. The café stop progresses with more beer, cake and bacon buttys/eggs on toast all round. By the time the peleton pulls out we‘ve all put on about half a stone in weight and its not far up the road before half the group has to agree to a comfort break.
The ride back is nice and sedate and Le Patron seems in no hurry to end his birthday ride. After bidding adieu to Paul and Mark the remnants of the Peleton retire to Le Patron’s for yet more cake and tea.
Le Patron (Big Al in case you haven’t yet worked it out) said he thoroughly enjoyed his birthday ride which is the least he deserves for all the enjoyment, encouragement and comradeship he has given us all over the years. Hopefully I’ll still be make comebacks and riding alongside Al for another 40 years or so - maybe by then I’ll be able to catch him - but I wouldn’t bet on it!!
22/11/09 - A Record Breaker
Well I guess it had to happen eventually; The Lantern Rouge finally overcame a slight leg injury & a much more serious bout of being an idle bar steward to return to the Peleton. The morning dawned drab and drizzly, a bit like me in the morning. Once the Guinness Book of Records had verified I’d now had more comebacks than Frank Sinatra, Le Patron, Chris and myself set off to Ronnie’s house to minimize his chances of getting lost. After a heartfelt greeting from Ronnie along the lines of ‘Who the f**k are you’ we set off to meet up with the Matinee Idol at a Garden Centre (he likes to admire the foliage apparently).
Le Patron keeps telling me to ‘let em go’ seemingly unaware that this is me going flat out and its more likely to be my body that ’lets go’ before the ride is through. Actually its not too bad on the flat but each slight rise in the road sees me sliding off the back like a kid on a toboggan. Somehow I make it through Oswestry and up the hill to Treflach before the welcome respite of descending Blodwell Bank where Le Patron shows a turn of speed last seen when someone uttered ’Free bar’.
The rest of the ride to the café passes in a blur of pain for me as the rest of the Crapi peleton finally makes me regret those months off the bike. Thankfully the welcome repose of the café by the canal in Maesbury (highly recommended whether cycling or not) is soon upon us and after soup and tea I feel almost human again.
Just as we are leaving Alan Lewis arrives, not on his bike thank god!! After a frustrating morning watching youth football masquerading as water polo he seems a bit peeved not to be on the bike. Staring forlornly out of his car window he looks like a depressed Deputy Dawg wearing a beanie hat. If only he’d said ’I’m so happy!’ I’d have died a happy man.
Thankfully the rest of the guys kept their word and we went the quickest way back. A brief blow out in Western Rhyn where the rest of them sprint for the roundabout - they do this every week though they pretend to have no interest in who actually arrives first - we part from the Matinee Idol and wind our way back to Le Patron’s house.
I arrive there cold, wet and knackered but it feels good to be back on the back. With words of encouragement ringing in my ears from Ronnie (‘I thought you were shit’) I leave vowing to return the following week.
Le Patron keeps telling me to ‘let em go’ seemingly unaware that this is me going flat out and its more likely to be my body that ’lets go’ before the ride is through. Actually its not too bad on the flat but each slight rise in the road sees me sliding off the back like a kid on a toboggan. Somehow I make it through Oswestry and up the hill to Treflach before the welcome respite of descending Blodwell Bank where Le Patron shows a turn of speed last seen when someone uttered ’Free bar’.
The rest of the ride to the café passes in a blur of pain for me as the rest of the Crapi peleton finally makes me regret those months off the bike. Thankfully the welcome repose of the café by the canal in Maesbury (highly recommended whether cycling or not) is soon upon us and after soup and tea I feel almost human again.
Just as we are leaving Alan Lewis arrives, not on his bike thank god!! After a frustrating morning watching youth football masquerading as water polo he seems a bit peeved not to be on the bike. Staring forlornly out of his car window he looks like a depressed Deputy Dawg wearing a beanie hat. If only he’d said ’I’m so happy!’ I’d have died a happy man.
Thankfully the rest of the guys kept their word and we went the quickest way back. A brief blow out in Western Rhyn where the rest of them sprint for the roundabout - they do this every week though they pretend to have no interest in who actually arrives first - we part from the Matinee Idol and wind our way back to Le Patron’s house.
I arrive there cold, wet and knackered but it feels good to be back on the back. With words of encouragement ringing in my ears from Ronnie (‘I thought you were shit’) I leave vowing to return the following week.
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