R O T H A R . C O M

Recovery

Last night I watched an episode of Willie’s Wonky Chocolate Factory. People have been talking about this for a few weeks and it has been fairly interesting to hear about it. There’s not too much of a surprise in the story of an entrepreneur setting up in business and finding that it’s a lot more hardwork and difficult to achieve than might have been expected. The interesting thing for me was that there was an interesting focus on Willie and that he turns out to be a bit of a dab hand at cooking and (perhaps not that surprisingly) has the same passion for dark, spicy chocolate that I share. So as he spent a good segment of the show making hot chocolate, it seemed wrong not to follow suit.

Now I didn’t make the same – consistency of thick cream – drink that he produced, but I did have a good rummage in the ingredients cupboard and the end result of a very generous portion of Green and Blacks 70% Cocoa Powder combined with ground black peppercorns, a dash of red chilli powder, freshly grated nutmeg and ground cinnamon and some fresh orange juice with hot milk was probably the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had. So hat’s off to the man and I’ll be keeping a look out for his chocolate billet which is being stocked by Selfridges (will have to have a look next time I’m in the City Centre) and there is some more discussion on this forum. I’ll be experimenting a bit more over the next few days I think.

Tonight’s ride was a good one. Leg has improved over the day and I hardly noticed it on tonight’s ride. It was very cold again and I had to dig the Buffalo jacket out. I’m fairly sure it was still a bit breezy, but I can’t honestly say it was hard going in any particular direction, so maybe it wasn’t at all. Probably could have ridden for longer, but my inspection of the bottom bracket revealed stripped threads on the non-drive side cup and I didn’t replace the unit, so I’m probably pushing my luck to be doing too many more miles on it before I get it fixed.

Three in One

Friday was a nice evening for a ride and I headed out with grand plans of an extended loop around the back of Stockport towards Marple and home. This plan was rather scuppered by a puncture on one of the climbs. Now this wouldn’t have been so bad if it was a normal puncture, but no a piece of glass had slashed through the top of the GP4000 and if the tube was pumped up beyond about 40 psi it bulged through the carcass. So it was a slow, careful and squidgy ride home.

I dusted off my rugby boots on Saturday for a game. I felt much better this year than on previous occasions because I feel like I’ve put a good number of miles in this year. Shortly after the kick off for the second half, a crushing tackle from one of the oppositions front row, left me feeling a bit green. It was one of those moments where you get that sickly feeling in your stomach. Pause and assess: Well I’m still standing so my leg can’t be broken…. Phew, just a dead leg then, but this one is a humdinger. Hobbled about for the rest of the half trying to run it off, but no luck – this one’s a keeper. Home, shower, slap on a load of Deep Heat and then head out on the Singlespeed. Not feeling too great, certainly no power, so kept it local and the pace comfortable.

Slept all Sunday morning, eventually waking up and then faffing around before limbering up enough to get out on the bike. First 10 minutes were really uncomfortable, but eventually the leg seemed to free up a bit. Managed to ride out to the M60 exploring some old bits of trail I first explored a few years ago. there’s been a lot of changes, with new housing developments coming up. Nasty north easterly wind coming in made the ride out hard work, but otherwise okay.

30 from 30 Riders

Just Do It

Didn’t want to ride tonight because pretty much from the moment I came in the door tonight it’s been raining. As I was oiling the chain and pumping the tyres up before heading out I noticed a gap between the non drive side bottom bracket cup and the frame. I’ve had problems with this coming undone on the Harry Hall ever since I fitted it, but it was particularly loose tonight. Go to tighten it up with my fingers and it just keeps on turning. Both ways. Bugger. So either I’ve cracked the cup through and the threaded section is jammed in the frame, or I’ve stripped something completely.

Then I thought about what Steve said this morning “I’m facing a 12/14 hour day today and it would have been so easy to quit, but then when I think about it I can quit drinking for a month, surely I can do something everyday for a month? Especially something that I consider defines who I am and what I do ?” and of course riding whatever the weather is no big deal. So I just took the bike out, dodgy bottom bracket and all and rode it. Just about to ride out and go to turn the iPod on – it’s completely flat. No tunes tonight then.

Stormy

The news is full of the current weather. Winter Storms Bring Chaos read the headlines. Trying to avoid getting blown off his bike Tyrrell was doored on the way into work this morning and then almost run over whilst lying in a crumpled heap in the road. It happened on Upper Brook Street outside the Hospital. For a few years now ever since they started the construction work on the Hospital expansion, the contractors have parked along the side of the road. It’s been a constant threat that’s worried me so I’ve chosen to ride in the centre of the lane rather than end up too close alongside the parked cars and vans. Still he’s okay, apart from a bloody knee and the idiot responsible was lucky to escape without a bloody nose.

The council are finally building a cycle lane to connect the two ends of the University Campus, primarily it will provide a safe route between the Upper Brook Street/Grosvenor Street junction under the Mancunian Way through to Sackville Street. I bumped into the planners yesterday afternoon and the workmen started work on widening the path this morning. This is a welcome bit of trail because when the traffic is heavy the complex of bends that form the road route are a bit dangerous.

So tonight I decided that rather than get battered by the wind and rain, I would try and seek some shelter and still get the miles in. Coupled with an ambition to get a local crit-type circuit, the recent resurfacing work on the Oxford Place has now opened up a realistic route. So 15 laps later, the jobs done and the weather really didn’t matter.

18

18 rides now into the 30. Weather is grim. It was either hard work slogging into the wind, battling the bike to maintain a line with the cross wind or getting a glorious tale wind all through the ride. It was cold and wet too so I didn’t enjoy it much at all. I wouldn’t have minded the ride in daylight, but at night it’s just horrid. I spent most of the ride thinking about a new all mountain trail bike and riding in the Alps this summer. Well you have to dream…

Photos from Herm

Herm

I’ve just added some of the shots from Herm to Flickr, you can see the rest here. I didn’t have time to take that many pictures, but it was great. A few shots from Guernsey to come too, but I’ll create a composite album from previous trips and add the few new ones in. The weather wasn’t so great on Saturday, so there were even less good shots.

Struggle

I was so tired this morning. I think it was all the excitement from the weekend and three early mornings, but I was barely keeping my eyes open at about 11.30am. Tonight represented my biggest challenge to date in terms of getting the motivation to keep on riding. I felt mentally and physically drained and it was only a steady supply of caffeine that kept me going.

Suffered my first puncture on the road bike since I built it up (that’s over three years now) on the ride home tonight. Inspection revealed a shard of glass that had just pierced the tube, leading to a slow, but inevitable softening of the rear tyre. I hate it when it’s wet, I seem to get all my punctures then which makes changing tubes a messy job, so I just unweighted the rear wheel and road it home to fix it in the dry and warmth of home.

In the end managed to ride out about 8.30pm. I had been thinking it might be interesting to do a different route every day of the 30, but I destroyed that idea tonight by riding the same route to Altrincham that I covered on day 10. I really couldn’t put my mind to coming up with something else. Catch up with how everyone else is doing via the links below:

30 from 30 Riders

Panic Three

So after my little adventure, which might be remembered as The Escape from Herm, I eventually made it back to Daves’s place and then spent the evening down the pub catching up with some friends. As the sea crashed over the sea wall and the wind kept blowing open the door, talk about the gale force winds and storm conditions that were due that night and all day Monday weren’t exactly filling me with confidence that my adventure was over yet. The last thing I remember checking on Sunday night was that the alarm was set for 5.45am, so I could get up and over to the airport in plenty of time for my 7am red eye flight back to Manchester.

Being woken up by Dave shouting, “Mate, it’s quarter past six!” was not a good thing. Fortunately everything was packed in the car so all I had to do was literally stuff my sleeping bag away, get dressed and hit the road. Dave gave me a recommended quick route to the airport and coupled with a bit of commitment and some interesting gear changes and line choices in the Focus, I was at the airport in 10 minutes. Dropped off the car in the car park, battled the rain and wind as I hauled the bike bag to the terminal building and checked in just as they announced final call for Manchester.

Piled into the plane. Sketchy take off with the high winds, relatively smooth crossing, sketchiest ever landing* back into Manchester. The plane was getting a wobble on as it tried to slow and brake down the wet runway and it was with some relief that the pilots brought it back under control and taxied safely into the terminal. Picked up the bike from baggage reclaim, changed my Guernsey notes back into Sterling and thenjumped on the train, getting back to the office for just after 9am. Result.

*This is in the context of the recent landing in Guernsey where we almost ran out of runway and only just stopped in time and a previous trip where there was a fault with the landing gear on the plane and they had to perform an emergency landing (full on brace for impact stuff) in Southampton Airport as the emergency vehicles chased the landing plane down the runway.

Panic Two

So after riding yesterday I went for a walk around St Peter Port and popped down to my former employer Ian Brown’s Cycle Shop. Unfortunately I missed Ian, but caught up with Paul Brehaut to get the low down on the local scene and a guided tour of the shop. It was great to see how much it has changed and it is without doubt one of best shops I’ve been to in terms of location and setup.

That night I caught up with my old buddy Dave Hubert who was letting me crash at his pad and what was supposed to be a few quiet ones turned out to be a full on session with double Glenmorangie chasers. The weather was picking up as a big Atlantic front approached and we were soaked through by the time we walked home from the pub. Up early the next morning to get the ferry to Herm for the race. So early that most places were still closed, so with a slightly heavy head, I managed to find the newsagent on the Bridge open and bought a few packets of crisps. This was mistake one. Should have bought more food.

Still off to Herm, nice smooth crossing, chance to catch up with a few friends from back in the day, but lots of new faces that I didn’t recognise at all. Good 45 minutes to preride the course, which worked out at about 20 minutes a lap. It took in all the classic elements, except the harbour hill climb, which was replaced by some new downhill sections developed for the Island Games and then a grassy climb back up to the Manor crossroads. The race went okay. I wasn’t ever going to stand much chance against the guys at the front of the field, because they’re used to doing these short course events and you adapt to the short sharp climbs.

I know it took me a year or so to get properly used to riding in the UK for hours at a time after being used to races that just lasted an hour or so. After four laps of the five lap race my steady pace meant that I was clawing a few places back slowly, but then on the final climb, I hit the wall and just ran out of energy. Too much Breda in the pub last night, the energy bars that had mysteriously disappeared from the Camelbak and the fact I’m almost out of energy drink led me to conclude that if I pushed on for the final lap, then I was going to completely bury myself. Just as I was contemplating this suicidal endeavour, race leader Rob Smart (who I used to play rugby with) came past and lapped me, which kind of helped me decide that I could gracefully concede defeat and bow out.

So I had a little time to take a few photos and then we all headed off to the Mermaid Tavern for a hearty lunch. Now I swear that on the boat on the way over in the morning the announcement had been that we were getting the ferry back from the Rosaire Steps at 3.30pm. So after lunch I went off to have a bit of an explore (checking out some of the megalithic monuments and tombs) and had a bit of a snooze in the shelter and in the sun. Get back to the Mermaid at about five past three to find my bike’s the only one left lined up outside the pub. Think that’s odd, they must have just all set off. Ride past the harbour and onto Rosaire. Can’t see any big group of riders or the boat, but then it’s a little hidden from sight until you completely get there.

Arrive to find no big group of mountain bikers. Not a soul. And no boat. Now Herm isn’t very big. There are only two ways on and off it by boat and I’ve been passed both of them. Reality starts to kick in. Either they’re all playing a fantastic practical joke or… That’s the only Ferry off the island today and there’s a great big storm coming in later today with force 8 or 9 winds and the chances are that there will be no way off the Island at all tomorrow and maybe only with luck on Tuesday. Just as I am contemplating having to spend the next few days on Herm a flash of yellow catches my eye.

It’s a bloke in yellow oil skins at the bottom of the steps. I lean the bike up against the wall and wander down the steps and shout:

“Alright there?”

He looks around

“Have you seen where all the cyclists went?”

“Yeah, they went on the boat about 10 minutes ago”

You’re joking! I really am screwed now. Then just as I was giving up, a little fishing boat comes into view. It’s sporting GU markings, so there’s an outside chance… I shout:

“You’re not going back to St Peter Port are you?”

He responds with a nod. So I promptly follow up with a cheeky,

“Any chance of a lift?”

His cheery positive response is the best news I’ve heard in a long time. Fortunately he’s picking up some people who’ve been ormering and have taken advantage of the spring tide to reach some normally inaccessible spots. It’s pure chance that I’m in the right place at the right time and I’m able to grab a lift back to Guernsey. The little boat takes a bit of a pounding on the crossing back, but the fact there are big shipping vessels taking shelter in the lee of the Island is indicative, that it’s going to get a lot worse tonight. Back on dry land the reality of my close escape becomes apparent. That was a serious bit of luck, but I’m going to need more of it if I’m going to be able to get my flight in the morning back to Manchester…

Panic One

Spent all last night after my ride, except for about an hour, getting ready for the weekend away. Really bad night’s sleep, eventually being woken up this morning at 4.30 and then laid in bed waiting for the alarm at 6.30. Next thing I know I wake up at 7am. Holy crap must have dozed off and when setting the alarm last night I’d turned it off by accident. Move into emergency panic mode, dressed, packed and on the bike within 5 minutes. Cane it to work on the road bike jumping all the lights. Get changed and the haul bike bag deposited in the office last night to Piccadilly Station. Get 7.30 train to Airport. It’s an express, so it only takes 20 minutes. Find trolley. Throw on bike bag and push it through to T1 like Lewis Hamilton on a charge through the field. Get to check-in, eventually. Absolutely no one waiting. Bit worried now. Speak to the girl behind, the desk:

“Hi I’m here for the Guernsey flight, but I’m afraid that I’m a bit late?”
“Late?”
“Yeah, sorry”
“Oh no, you’re here in plenty of time!”

Panic over! It was just a quick hour flight to Guernsey from Manchester. Sketchy landing, but quickly through the airport and picked up the hire car, which turns out to be abrand new Ford Focus Zetec. Fired it up and then headed off towards Pleinmont. Had a quick walk around up near the motocross track and then drove down to Portelet and parked up. Re-assembled the bike and then rode out taking in all the old routes via L’Eree, Vazon, the Guet, various green lanes through the interior valleys, down to Moulin Huet up and out and along the coast back to Pleinmont before getting back to the car about 2 hours later. Great to be out exploring the old routes once again and I found probably the only break in the weather all day so managed notto get soaked through and even saw blue skies once or twice.