After cleaning the Jackson Pollock from my right jacket sleeve (palette of greens and yellows with a splash of white), right sleeve? - Westerly out Easterly home, I am now able to consider today’s ride and put the day into perspective.
After a couple of weeks off the bike; ear infection throat infection general kak at work I suppose today was always going to be challenging – and so it proved. I briefly made contact with the ride in Keighley; the early signs were not promising, -they rode past me, the good ol’ boys from VS were tapping out a brisk rhythm, Pete W looked like he’d lost a couple more pounds, Brian had resorted to his summer bike and Melvyn had a steely, take no prisoners, look in his eye - I tucked in nevertheless.
Someone had whispered ‘Cringles’ so when we flew past the turn to Addingham, my spirits lifted and I began to entertain hopes that we might be heading on towards Cracoe and Grassington and that, subject to me hanging on out of Skipton, I might have a wheel to suck for at least a part of the day.
It was not to be, the VS were aware of an alternative route over Cringles that involved a sharp right at the left to Cononeley. As the road ramped up I slipped away, not, unfortunately, in to death’s sweet embrace but in to a sort of purgatory that lasted until I accepted that there was no point in chasing, at which point I settled in to my own rhythm and began to enjoy the day.
By the way I did briefly make contact with the run again. I’d made my way to Cracoe Café (second best sausages in Yorkshire) and as I was about to leave in they trooped; Burnsall apparently was too busy. I resisted the temptation to hang around and made my own way back, once bitten twice shy.
PS In case you were wondering Tesco Value Range Chipolatas
PPS If you want a run report I suggest you ask someone who was on it