Riders; Coops, Stevio, Cam, Gadge, Neil and Delirious Dave (aka “the victim”).

Location; Conrhenny and beyond

What happened; Firstly it was Coops what done it; I’ve said it and it’s out; impeach me if you must, just don’t make me ride those steps again.

The Flock met at the Cat; some regulars missing, and a guest appearance by the Hobbit. Coops had a plan to ride uphill into every headwind going. So we set off into a headwind towards the Clypse. When we got there we thought there was a doggers convention, but it was just some sad middle aged men with expensive gear that wasn’t an MTB. Bet they felt jealous when a load of sad middled aged men went past with…. Oh. Anyway.

At the Honeyhill end of the link track racy fast Ben went past in a blaze of On One 29’er carbon glory. We dragged up the hill (into a headwind) and had to wait for a below par Gadge who was clearly suffering. We were as supportive as only the Loaghtans can be…..

Along the road, over the hedge, and down 10 foot and left to have everyone repeatedly stall at the first tree route we came across….(it was quite big, though). Along to the car park, and Cam and Dave sprinted to the new look out, where we admired the quality of Bolty’s carpentry skills, and noted what looked like wood for a skinny section over the brash (hint, hint). Barely had we got there when Cam raced off again, dropping left into the rooty section off the main drag. After a quick talk about owls and Harry Potter (someone please buy Neil a Nimbus 2000….) it was off again down through the trees to the perimeter track. We stopped (again) to let some fast riders through (ok, it was Robbie Savage in chiselled goatee chin mode) and then rode down and around and up turning off towards the bottom left.

Coops “hooned” down the hill on his Other Cove, then cut left to avoid the big puddle at the bottom corner by the road. I followed him down, and then round as he cut back to the right.

At this point the moral lowpoint occurred…. Coops says his “pedal” caught one of several bits of “slightly lumpy ground”, so he stopped and fell off. I managed to stop on top of one of the humps. My stylish skills dazed Dave so much he fell off into what looked like barbed wire from the yelps and whimpering, but may have been merely thorns and nettles. MTFU I say (or where leg warmers like me). Once Coops had kissed it better it was a brief photo stop – only 4 shots to get them all looking the right way; bet David Bailey never suffered like I have.

Down Barroose we went, strung out to avoid riding over Gadge. Without Bazzer on call it was left to Coops to show top mincing skills on the way down. At the bottom it was along Pack Horse Lane to Baldrine, missing what looked like rebar sticking out of the ground at the speed I was travelling but was probably plastic water pipe (the embarrassment after swerving to the right still shames me).

Back up to the other green lane and then a brief pit stop when Dave, obviously delirious started rambling about what wheels to buy. We tried to ascertain relevant info to help him make choose, buit all I can remember now is “Clydesdale” and “fat knacker”. Oh, and he’s heavier than he looks, thank god….

Back down to the LA at which point we realised no one had (or was admitting to) Beer Money. So along the road and up the track (in a head wind) towards Lower Begoade Farm. Coops nearly had a revolt on his hands, but rather than going up Enemona he then persuaded us to go up the road to Conrhenny Equestrian Centre. When we got there he wanted to do a Duke of York and get us to ride back down again. Must be some road love thing, but it just did nothing for me.

Delirious Dave then started asking about his left hand shifter (concussion I think). As we caught him up he asked everyone in turn what they thought was the problem? (Trick question; the answer is “it’s a SRAM X9 shifter, it’s rubbish”….).

I suggested the boardwalks down to Enemona. This involved me leading the way into a stinky mud puddle (the bog of stench, apparently) and unwisely riding down the steps @ the end. Sheer terror; never again. No one else copied my lead, funnily enough. Still better than riding up, and then down a boring stretch of road to do 25 foot of track.

Back at the Clypse track Gadge got caught out by the rubble tipping and suffered a puncture but this was soon rectified (have you thought of a 29’er, apparently they can’t, it’s just not allowed), and it was off down the road, and back to the Cat for Gary and Coops to drown their sorrows, (mud AND punctures) and Coops to start making excuses for Pedalgate….

Stevio (really I should say ONCHAN like FOXDALE, but I live in DOUGLAS – the shame, no really, I don’t like to talk about it)*

*(makes a change THE EDITOR)