Training weekend really. Fred and I have ridden together before, we cycled John O’Groats to Lands End in 2007. We also cycled the Coast to Coast in November of last year as an early warm up for our TransAm journey. The first weekend of April, 2010, though marked the beginning of our training “regime”. I headed back up home to North Yorkshire (“God’s own country” as Mum would have me add) on the late night train from Waterloo, ill prepared for a weekend of riding. My fitness work during the previous week had consisted of a suit fitting and walking up the stairs to a book launch. The book incidentally was “Beta Male” by Iain Hollingshead – a postmodern deconstruction of masculinity in the modern age masquerading as very good read with some (marginally) puerile humour , I recommend it highly.
But I digress. Training hadn’t really been occupying as much of my schedule as it should have been and so when I stepped on the train back down to Bradford the next morning to meet Fred I was a little apprehensive. The plan was to cycle back from his flat in Shipley (where in the weeks to come it would emerge that there had been some grisly goings-on, wholly unrelated to our training ride) to our homes in North Yorkshire, which are only about three minutes apart. In truth I wasn’t sure I would be able to cycle the 70 miles home and might end up embarrassingly stranded in Boroughbridge or Thirsk. These are not unpleasant towns to be stranded in, but I feared that friends and family would start to doubt whether we really could make it across America if I couldn’t cycle across Yorkshire.
As it turns out I needn’t have worried. We ate up the miles pretty quickly and after stopping in Otley, for a loo break (the public loos in Otley are, to say the least, well hidden), and Boroughbridge, for lunch, we arrived back in Carlton, at Fred’s house, after only about 6 hours. A good start to the weekend.
Unfortunately we were going so well that we forgot to take any photos at all. In truth, nothing particularly memorable happened during the ride, save for the incident with the badger. We usually talk intermittently whilst riding and if there is a pot-hole or some other obstruction, the person in front shouts to let the other know about it. However, when Fred shouted “Badger” at the top of his voice as we were approaching the spa town of Harrogate, I assumed that he was engaging in one of his (fairly frequent) bouts of surrealist humour. I certainly did not realise that he was referring to the lifeless badger lying on the road. Fortunately, I spotted the majestic beast just before it completely wiped me out and I managed to swerve out of the way. It seems likely that from now on “Badger” will be our code word for danger.
Most of Sunday morning was taken up with a planning session of Team TransAm. We looked at maps, discussed flights and admired Winnebagos. Nonetheless, after a substantial breakfast, cooked by Ma Stockham, we were back out on the roads.
The ride on Sunday was somewhat less exotic, and we stayed within the confines of the North Yorkshire Moors. It was notable for me as the first time that I have ever made it up the infamous Carlton Bank, without having to put a foot down and rest (hopefully a good sign as far as the fitness goes). We also added to our repertoire of cafes with the discovery of a lovely little coffee shop in Hawnby, run, in slightly eccentric fashion, by a man who appeared to be a scout leader. Our favourite offerings were the biscuits from “Samba House, Mango Park…..Bolton” and the injunction on the wall to “Enjoy your sausage.” It is perhaps the case that when one is tired things seem funnier than they actually are, but these two nuggets kept us going for the afternoon.
The scenery of the North Yorkshire Moors is glorious and fortunately we managed to take a few photos of the day’s ride.
We arrived back to Fred’s at 3pm after about 40 miles on the road, which included some long climbs, and I then faced the prospect of the 4 mile ride home. This was undoubtedly the hardest part of the weekend. For some reason I had completely run out of energy and felt cold and uncomfortable; no doubt a prelude to feeling that way for many miles over the coming months. Still, after a few Nutrigrains I perked up and made it back home.
A pretty good weekend of training, but it left us in no doubt that we are going to have to up our fitness levels significantly if we are going to get anywhere close to finishing our epic trip.
The Parkes and Stockham Cycle Part 2: TransAmerica 