Meggin reacquainted with 'Griffin' - her family name |
Hays Galleria |
By water is as good as by Wheel |
Arriving late Thursday afternoon at the Excell Centre was meant to be straight forward, we 'pop in' register, collect our packages and go to the Hotel.
For convenience we had hired a van, however the hirer forgot to mention that there was no A/C.
We improvised by opening the windows, but road works most of the route not only elongated the suffering but prevented any airflow.
The 90 degree temperature made the cab very 'Moist'.
Paddy's attempted humour and made a few wise cracks about it being cooler than Houston - I told him that he was better equipped to do his day job.
Relief was palpable when I spied the signs to the Excell Centre with directions for a selection of car parking spaces. Unfortunately this did not apply to Vans.
Using some guile and poetic licence I managed to sweet talk a sweet Lithuanian Security guard into letting us park with the trade vehicles. I persuaded her that Paddy was Peter Segan and that he had put on a few pounds after finishing the Tour de France.
Thankfully none of the hurdles placed before us had anything to do with the organisers and once we gained access to the Excell Centre everything was life free wheeling with a tail wind.
There were hundreds of volunteers to help and guide us to the right place and enough trade stands to keep coax out even the most reluctant wallet
For convenience we had hired a van, however the hirer forgot to mention that there was no A/C.
We improvised by opening the windows, but road works most of the route not only elongated the suffering but prevented any airflow.
The 90 degree temperature made the cab very 'Moist'.
Paddy's attempted humour and made a few wise cracks about it being cooler than Houston - I told him that he was better equipped to do his day job.
Relief was palpable when I spied the signs to the Excell Centre with directions for a selection of car parking spaces. Unfortunately this did not apply to Vans.
Using some guile and poetic licence I managed to sweet talk a sweet Lithuanian Security guard into letting us park with the trade vehicles. I persuaded her that Paddy was Peter Segan and that he had put on a few pounds after finishing the Tour de France.
Thankfully none of the hurdles placed before us had anything to do with the organisers and once we gained access to the Excell Centre everything was life free wheeling with a tail wind.
There were hundreds of volunteers to help and guide us to the right place and enough trade stands to keep coax out even the most reluctant wallet
Wheres my spoke adjuster |
The Explorer |
The hired bikes were obtained from 'On Yer bike' which although highly recommended it is not the easiest of places to get to.
Having been deprived of my Addy (My Scott Addict) through an ill timed mechanical problem I secured an entry Level Trek 1.1 road bike.
Anything more advanced I would have required a small mortgage for deposit.
After a few adjustments, my own seat, pedals, water cages and well placed strips of red and black electrical tape, ride numbers etc - the result no longer looked like a 'hire bike'.
A well loved two wheeled companion had emerged from the corner of the hotel room, ready to carry me over 100 miles at a pace to out-pedal even the most enthusiastic of politicians.
Wheres the bike Shed? |
Saturday featured a closed road 'Freecycle' around central London.
With our finest Mule livery we ventured out.
It was a surreal experience riding on closed roads around the Iconic sights of London.
Every opportunity we had pictures were taken and the atmosphere was milked up in churn loads.
We even decided to add to the Guinness book of records by getting 6 mules into a phone box.
I am not sure its an official category but we are looking to beat it again very soon.
As lunch time approached, things got messy and to be frank dangerous.
I was wanting to have a closer look at the excess on my bike hire for fear of an inevitable spillage.
This free ride for all was being jumped upon by half of London with hundreds of cyclist everywhere you looked.
Each had there own speed, experience, spacial awareness, risk radar and more significantly levels of responsibility.
Small children criss-crossed the road in joyous abandon as if at home in their private cul-de-sac
parents looked on seemingly deaf to the screeching brakes and subdued curses.
Other older children in their mid thirties used the moving mass of as an obstacle course and weaved in and out as fast as they could.
Sadly they too seemed oblivious to the dangers they were presenting to both themselves and others or maybe they just did not care.
One particular over tattooed specimen took great exception to advice I offered.
His response 'unmeasured' was a decision to share with me all the curse words he had ever learned.
I had heard of most of them and insultingly some referred to animals other than a Mule.
Some he also used more than once - poor show, clearly he learned nothing else in life.
With tempers rising I did not want to share some Anglo Saxon traits with my American Cousins and offered a pilgreimage. All agreed so we decided to cease this glorious stupidity and detour to the Cyclist shrine - The Rapha Store.
Caffeine and things of beauty.................Bliss
With our finest Mule livery we ventured out.
Guess we will just park here |
It was a surreal experience riding on closed roads around the Iconic sights of London.
Every opportunity we had pictures were taken and the atmosphere was milked up in churn loads.
We even decided to add to the Guinness book of records by getting 6 mules into a phone box.
I am not sure its an official category but we are looking to beat it again very soon.
How many Mules can you get in a phone box? |
Mule Train on the Embankment |
I can hear a Siren |
One day I was cycling by St Pauls.................. |
What would Christopher Wren have said ? |
Meggin and her Mule |
As lunch time approached, things got messy and to be frank dangerous.
I was wanting to have a closer look at the excess on my bike hire for fear of an inevitable spillage.
This free ride for all was being jumped upon by half of London with hundreds of cyclist everywhere you looked.
Each had there own speed, experience, spacial awareness, risk radar and more significantly levels of responsibility.
Small children criss-crossed the road in joyous abandon as if at home in their private cul-de-sac
parents looked on seemingly deaf to the screeching brakes and subdued curses.
Budding Laura Trott |
Other older children in their mid thirties used the moving mass of as an obstacle course and weaved in and out as fast as they could.
Sadly they too seemed oblivious to the dangers they were presenting to both themselves and others or maybe they just did not care.
One particular over tattooed specimen took great exception to advice I offered.
His response 'unmeasured' was a decision to share with me all the curse words he had ever learned.
I had heard of most of them and insultingly some referred to animals other than a Mule.
Some he also used more than once - poor show, clearly he learned nothing else in life.
With tempers rising I did not want to share some Anglo Saxon traits with my American Cousins and offered a pilgreimage. All agreed so we decided to cease this glorious stupidity and detour to the Cyclist shrine - The Rapha Store.
Caffeine and things of beauty.................Bliss
Obligatory visit to Rapha Store |
Getting up at 4.45 on Sunday morning was not alien to me.......It was the usual time I get up in the week to commute so I did not have to adjust my alarm.
It was 2 miles from our Hotel to an official drop off point on Jamacia Rd, Bermondsey, and then a further 5 miles to the start.
We cycled past the Olympic Cycle stadium which was ironically illuminated by the first golden rays of morning sunshine.Goosebumps appeared on my arms a trend that was going to continue throughout the day.
Just Perfect |
The start was amazing with fast roads leading through a neutralised area to a formal start some 5 miles in.
It was clear straight away that some of the participants new to mass riding had not been totally honest when they filled in their anticipated ride times.
They were soon found out being swamped by passing cyclists.
It must have been terrifying!!!!
We agreed to meet some of our earlier starters on the road and by the time we had reached the city we had our own Mule Train (Pace line) in place.
Caught in the moment their was no room for the nervous, as the pedals pushed out unprecedented watts and the air crackled with adrenaline.
Sun touched athletes |
As ready as I ever will be |
Richmond Park |
In all of my sportives I have stopped at schools, churches, garages, parks, in laybys, outside toilets and on moor tops, but this must take the prize as the most unorthodox of venues.
I think the stop extended our finishing time somewhat as we all wanted pictures.
Unconventional Feed Station |
The unbridled joy of finding Toilets with no queue |
The Pace continued throughout and up to Surreys version of a climbs featuring Leith Hill and Box hill. For us the only hazard was other riders knocked in their tracks by the increase in gradient as some southerners struggled we mocked that such climbs are considered false flats in Yorkshire.
Race Faces |
From Box Hill to the finish I have never pedalled so fast for so long. Great crowds had assembled along the route, Raucous, encouraging and ensuring that adrenaline levels were topped up to the limit.We kept our paceline going which made spectators believe that maybe we were some professional unit as they seemed to keep their loudest cheer for us.
Or is it just my imagination?
Finally we arrived at the mall, a spectacular union jack lined corridor of pleasure, with pounding hearts, smiling faces and the odd tear in the eye.
It was A MAZ ING !!!!!!!!
Already looking forward to Next year....What a buzz |