Courtesy of John P again:
Four
Seasons in a Bike Ride
The
end of April has lived up to its reputation this year; there has been cutting,
cold winds, heavy showers of rain, hail and snow and beautiful patches of warm
sunshine - and today was no exception. As the grid formed on the start
line by the Guide Hut it was clear there was a variation in views as to whether
wets were needed or could you get away with intermediates. Split about 50:50,
but the start was clearly veering towards downpour conditions. Dick ever
optimistic was sure he could see some blue sky behind the GH as we waited for
the grid to fill and the skies to empty. Dick, Bob, Ian St, John P, John M and
Scott duly lined up as the five lights lit up and then went out. (Ed: OK enough
of the F1 imagery please)
Plan
A was an idea from Robin that we could head along the Deeside Way all the way
to Camphill and then back; keeping us low down and hopefully across wind and
out of it as much as possible. Mutterings of OK, but equal concern at its
linearity. So to add some loopishness to it we headed through the West Gate up
to Crathes. Amongst other things, this was to try and lay a ghost of Robin’s
and see if we (he!) could actually make it through Crathes without breaking
down. Still with Camphill in mind we paralleled the Deeside Way along by
Myrebird. The wind was icy along this low ridge and as we neared Drumoak we
enjoyed a particularly pleasant hail storm. A couple of us noted how the hail
stones managed to penetrate the helmets and ping off our (for some)
balding heads. It was also evident that not all rear mudguards are the same.
Against our fetching day-glow green (yellow?) riding jackets various spray
patterns were developing. It seems length and width are important when it comes
to mud guards.
Camphill
was seeming more and more unlikely and quite sensibly, Drum Oak Garden Centre
was made the coffee stop and turn round point. There was a nodding mention
towards ‘The Torque Question’, but most conversation seemed to involve
broadband woes and insurance pitfalls and costs; a fairly predictable staple
for Gentlemen Of Our Age! Back on the steeds and down to Deeside Way. Very
familiar but in the (now) bright sunshine beautiful with the beech just
beginning to show its leaves. Everything was going swimmingly until Bob
announced he had a soft rear tyre, just by the trains at Crathes. Lots of
sympathy, but reluctance to bring to bear out notable (absence) of bike mending
skills. Consequently Bob was about to ring his wife for a rescue when it was
realised Dick had a can of the foam you fill a punctured tyre with. Realising
we have not tried this before there was suddenly enthusiasm to see what would
happen and Bob was willing to consign his tyre to the rubbish bin, as when used
it ‘writes-off’ the inner tube. Dick produced the kit and promptly started squirting
it into the tyre. “Have you read the instructions, Dick?”, well what do you
think the answer was. Nevertheless the tyre filled and regained some substance
and we all felt ‘job done’ and as we were congratulating ourselves, someone
mentioned, “Can you hear that fizzing noise, anyone?” As we looked at the tyre
the split that had caused the problem became apparent and out of it was a
stream of gas and now white foam. Not all was lost and to be fair, the tyre
ultimately got Bob back home.
‘Bob’s
Incident’ had meant that Ian had gone on ahead without realising we had
roadside repairs to do. So eventually we found a forlorn figure sitting by the
track wondering where we had all got to. Quick group ‘hug’ and acknowledgements
of what had become of us, and then we picked our various routes and headed back
to our homes.
36km
in two and bit hours, 240m of climb
 |
| l-r: Scott Hunter, John McWhinnie, Robin Brodie (lurking at the rear in non-uniform black). Dick Taylor, Bob Elder, John Perry & Ian Stewart |
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