Midsummer murder - 29/06/13

A slightly depleted but nonetheless fortified peloton consisting of Craig, Robbo, Ronnie, Iron Man Chad, Tudor the Russian, Hughesy, Young Gaz and Patron were looking forward to whatever route Le Patron had conjured for us this week. Individual distances and speeds varied depending on start/finish points, I made it 77.7 miles and 17.3 average.

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23/06/13 OTB - 1.10pm

The title of this OFB will become clear at the end of the report. On a damp and drizzly morning Le Patron (Al), Rocket (Mark), Chris, Ronnie (after a short delay to go and get his winter bike due to free hub shenanigans), Tudor, Tudor’s mate James and the Lantern (Ian - brother The Candle resting following an impressive 70 mile trek the previous day) gathered outside Al’s for a trip to Maesbury picking up Matinee (Paul) and Craig on the way. But where was Vino? Unbelievably following his ripping of Copout Coppi the previous weekend Vino had cried off due to the drizzle. He was immediately rechristened “No-show” Jones! When contacted for a comment the aforementioned Copout said “Don’t mention decorating having to do each wall three times” - no I didn’t understand either! The peleton stayed together to Oswestry and then splintered on the climb towards Treflach with an unusually subdued Patron and the Lantern sliding off the back. Debutant James easily keeping pace with the main peleton on the first climb of the day. Thankfully the main bunch waited at the foot of Blodwell as Patron had remembered the bridge on the way to Llanymynech was closed so the group headed down to the X-roads at Lyncwys. At this point Craig, following his 70 mile jaunt the previous day with the Candle opted to go straight to the café. The main group then headed down the main road towards Llanymynech. Again Patron made his own pace with Lantern along for the ride. At the front Ronnie put the hammer down on the incline up through Pant. Pausing to look round and assess things he was surprised to see James sat on his wheel looking fresh as a daisy. Ron redoubled his efforts before James and Matinee took turns on the front. Tudor then blew the bunch apart by taking the pace up to an impressive thirty mph (which is faster than any car he’s sold ever managed!!!). After a refuel and a chance to dry out (slightly) at Maesbury the group headed back towards Gobowen. Tudor again flexing his muscles with a long pull on the notoriously draggy road from Whittington to Gobowen before James and Ron also dragged the bunch along. No fractures this time and the group barrelled down to Western Rhyn where Craig and Matinee peeled off and the rest of the bunch headed round the back of Chirk. The short pull up to the castle was enough for Tudor to put daylight between himself and Chris and the Rocket with the Lantern (yes I was surprised as well!) close behind. Tudor managed to hold his gap all the way home despite Chris and Mark’s best efforts with the Lantern trailing in next followed by Ron and Patron rounding things off shortly after (James having gone straight home presumably unaware of the lure of Al‘s café at the end of each ride). It was agreed by all that James’ debut had been suitably impressive and only mileage had done for him in the end and everyone said they were knackered. As always another great if slightly damp day out with the boys so a big thank you to everyone for making each ride such great fun!! The title? Well at 1.10pm Ron arrived back at Patron’s and said “ I could see the Lantern ahead of me but I couldn’t catch him”. Now I know he was on his winter bike but it still counts - that’s going on my headstone that is!!!!! Probably missing for a couple of weeks now boys as off to get some sun in Spain hopefully so go easy when I get back (fat chance!!).

Long Mountain, Deux Maillot Jaune and mistaken identity.

Brian, Craig and Robbo arranged to meet the rest of the bunch at Overton, and a motley crew of Gareth, Ronnie, Hughesy, Cabbage, Patron, Coppi, Lantern and Rocket crested the hill out of Erbistock one by one. A quick glance around confirmed all riders to be replete in matching CRAPI team kit, apart from two notable exceptions – Lantern and Coppi, who for reasons best known to themselves, were bedecked in matching yellow jerseys, souvenirs of last year’s Alpine jaunt. The similarity between the two of them was uncanny, even Coppi’s brothers couldn’t tell them apart, as the peloton rolled on to Ellesmere, eagerly debating which of the ‘yellow jerseys’ would be the protected rider for the day. A right turn in Ellesmere signalled the start of the ‘Tour of Flanders’ section of the ride, and shortly afterwards, an ally of Robbo’s pedalled alongside and whispered that Ronnie would be out to get him today, following the previous week’s misadventure. Robbo made a mental note to look for the tell-tale signs of Ronnie’s cunning plan as the route wound its way along to Baschurch, Melverley and Princes Oak before the main drag of the day, the Long Mountain road to Welshpool. Legs and lungs were tested as Gareth led the way up the climb, pursued at a slightly less frenetic pace by Craig, Rocket, Cabbage, Robbo and Brian, whilst the rest of the bunch opted for a sedate ascent. Notable by his absence at this juncture was Ronnie, who when last sighted was glass cranking down the road with the rear bunch – a sure sign of energy conservation for battles still to come. The stop at the Inglenook cafe came at the 50+ mile mark and each finely honed athlete opted for the full cooked breakfast, with the exception of Craig, who chose a very healthy chicken salad sandwich, and a plate of chips roughly twice the size of Rhostyllen colliery bank. Breakfasts were heartily dispatched, apart from Coppi’s, who had the look of a man forcing down his last supper before a dawn appointment with the gallows. Surely the return leg of the ride wasn’t going to be that hard, was it? Shortly after passing the Guilsfield turning, we split into two, as Ronnie, Robbo, Gareth, Brian, Cabbage, Craig and Mark pushed on, leaving Patron and Hughesy to protect a yellow jersey each. The pace to Oswestry was brisk but comfortable, halted only by the need for an impromptu group ‘natural break’ shortly before Blodwell bank. A straw poll was taken to determine the plan of action should the group split on Blodwell bank, but in the event we re-grouped at the top for the run into Oswestry. Riders yo-yo’d on and off the front and back of the group through Treflach as legs were tested to see what was left in the tank. On the final drag up to Os, Robbo found himself off the front of the group and a quick look over his shoulder confirmed the only rider on his wheel was Gareth. Gareth eventually came round and pulled away over the crest of the drag, whilst Robbo waited for the rest of the bunch to catch up, fairly safe in the knowledge that Gareth would wait in Oswestry. A minute or two later, the rest of the bunch rode up to Robbo’s wheel and he was dumb-struck to see that one of them was........GARETH! Robbo’s heart sunk as he realised the rider that had just ridden off into the sunset ahead of him was actually Ronnie!!! He silently cursed the matching club kit which had led to the confusion, but felt a painful glimmer of admiration for the crafty smiling assassin, who’d managed to do him over as promised. Brian, Craig and Robbo peeled off in their various directions home leaving Mark, Gareth and Cabbage to be the first home to Rhostyllen, followed not long after by the two yellow jerseys (more like yellow cardigans at this stage) and their faithful domestiques. Individual mileages varied between 80 odd and 96 miles for the day, my computer recorded 84 miles and a 16mph ave.

Dolgellau - Aberdyfi - Machynlleth - Bwlch Oerddrws - Dolgellau

Dolgellau was today's starting point, as Mark, Le Patron, Hughesy, Ronnie, Coppi (yes you read it right, I said Coppi) Lantern, Candle, Craig, Tudor and Robbo mounted their machines in anticipation of a great day ahead. Shortly beforehand Le Patron had enquired whether anyone had any bog paper, but on reflection he chose to decline the chance of an early morning al fresco latrine visit, opting instead for the "slow cooker". Needless to say the peloton gave Le Patron a wide berth as we trundled off in the general direction of Fairbourne, Tywyn and Aberdyfi. It felt good to be alive. The cool morning air tingled with the heady cocktail of Spring flowers, sea-salt, the Lantern's factor 500, Coppi's hair-oil and Le Patron's occasional leakages. The ride to the cafe at Aberdyfi was pretty steady and very enjoyable, and no-one was in too much of a rush to bypass the beautiful Cambrian coastline, as riders looked expectantly out to sea, hoping to catch sight of some porpoise. Except for Coppi that is, who seemed to have the boundless energy of a Springer Spaniel. Could he keep this pace up all day? Following a pleasant repast at the Aberdyfi cafe, the pace again continued at a leisurely rate until eventually picking up on the last few miles into Machynlleth. A quick look over the shoulder confirmed that Coppi had not managed to maintain his earlier work rate, also absent at this juncture was the Lantern, who would share the rest of the ride with brother Coppi. Hughesy (straight off a night shift, how does he do it?) opted to drop back to shepherd the two rear-gunners, whilst the rest of the group ploughed along the seemingly interminable road to Dinas Mawddwy. In Harry Potter it was the sorting hat, which shrewdly decided which house the new arrivals at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry would be allocated to, and so shape their destiny. The merry band of Crapiwheelers underwent a similar selection process today, as the 20% gradient warning sign of Bwlch Oerddrws hoved into view shortly after leaving Dinas. By this point, Ronnie, Tudor, Craig and Robbo were digging in for the challenge ahead - who would crack first? The more appropriate question should have been - who would attack first, and that was swiftly answered, as Tudor set off on a suicidal boys own adventure, closely followed by Ronnie and Craig. Robbo however chose to keep his powder dry, confident that a "slowly slowly catchy monkey" approach would reel in the escapees as they inevitably blew out of their arses, or so he hoped. The first to succumb to said tactics was Craig, as the 20% slope bit off his legs and spat them unceremoniously over the edge. After a couple more minutes Tudor realised he'd underestimated the gradient and length of the slope as lactic acid took its toll on his not inconsiderable leg muscles. Robbo contemplated passing on some words of advice to the over exuberant climber as he edged past him, but barely had the breath to get the words out. With the smell of possible victory flaring in his nostrils, Ronnie put in a hard dig and pulled strongly away from Robbo on the summit hairpin band. By the time Robbo had crested the Bwlch and got his breath back, Ronnie was a 50mph white blur, plummeting towards Dolgellau like a man possessed. Was there a Guinness sale on in town that I didn't know about? A game of cat and mouse then ensued, with the mouse always out of sight for the next few miles. Robbo's attempts at closing the gap were thwarted by a caravan which insisted doing 30mph all the way down the hill past the little chef. Fortune favours the brave, and sometimes the crafty bugger too, and Robbo realised his tactics had paid off as he eventually caught sight of lightweight Ronnie struggling against a headwind with about 2 miles to go. The chase was on. Ronnie glanced back and dug deeper. Robbo conjured dark thoughts about the solo breakaway rider who seemed to be holding him off. Eventually, bodyweight and sheer bloody mindedness brought Robbo up on the shoulder of the escapee, and both shook hands and called a truce, just 300 yards from the car park. The remaining riders rolled in over the next few minutes, and all agreed it had been a grand day out. Hey Al, "I've found that bog roll, do you still want it?" enquired Robbo. "Nah, it'll wait" replied Al, wincing as he squeezed out his final backside broadside of the day before climbing into his car. 58 miles 17mph ave