That's one of the things that I love about cycling, the way that it seems to bring out the best in people. If you appreciated the tea stops this year, then don't thank me and Baggy, thank Mary, Jim, Eileen, Ben and Rob who crewed the tea stops last year. Those tea stops saved our ride and it only seemed fair to return the favour this year.
Pick a pitch time...
We hadn't managed to find a pitch for the first tea stop before the day, so we drove up in Andy's van via Cheddar, checking out a variety of laybys, side roads and what have you for suitability. Nothing really looked quite right, until we hit the Gorge and saw the huuuge coach parks at the bottom, just before the road turned into the town. Spacious, well located and far enough away from shambling drunks demanding a cuppa. Sorted.
Whisky Galore!
So to Channings, once Baggy and I had conducted our now traditional detour around sundry bits of Bristol. Bikes everywhere, people fettling lights. Old faces from previous years. People who
looked familiar but turned out to be someone else entirely. Andy Gates, fixing a naughty rear hub. A whole club of cheery blokes from the Wirral in team kit. Oh and the chaps from Stewartry Wheelers. Crystal whisky glasses to toast yourselves during the ride? Admirable style gentlemen! The garden was heaving with machinery and lycra and, oh joy of joys, being beamed on by the sun! With a squeak from George the lobster the first wheels rolled off in search of the bridge while Baggy and I clambered back into the van.
Wherever I Lay My Cap, That's My Home
We'd only just got the table set up and the water hot when the first wave rode down the Gorge. It was quite a sight, seeing headlamps pouring down the slope. Within a few minutes we had a heaving mass of grinning cyclists hoovering up malt loaf (memo to self, buy more for next year) jaffa cakes, jelly babies and tea. We'd picked a spot at the bottom because people usually stop at the bottom to re-group. It worked a treat. More and more poured in. Baggy, deprived of a weekends gardening, was watering cyclists instead. We'd scored 8 huge water containers courtesy of the Great South West Run and Freecycle (see, what comes around) which solved a potentially huge logistical nightmare. Bottles were topped up, energy drink mixed and tea brewed. I milled around, trying to figure out how my camera worked and mostly failing. Gradually people headed off, until we were left with just a few souls, bracing themselves for the night ahead. But there were still people out there, people we knew, who hadn't come through. We waited. Gradually they rolled in. Andy, having had a weekend of heavyweight Bob-Yak merriment, was in a state known to us as 'completely f*cked'. Happily the van that we'd borrowed for the night was his, so the available spare space was duly claimed. The last two souls to arrive were a couple of lads, sorry chaps, I didn't catch your names. One of them was clearly suffering from more than just a bit of fatigue. A cold or perhaps even mild hypothermia. He looked dreadful. One of the Met Office guys lent him a jacket, with a promise that it would be posted back (what comes around..) but it was obvious that he wasn't going to make it to Exmouth. We came up with various plans and schemes, but in the end they decided to head for Glastonbury and the Travel Lodge there. 12 flat miles, but that's a long way when you're not well. I hope you got there chaps.
Once we'd got packed up we headed to Wells to drop Elayne off. Night riding is a new experience for her and without Andy, as map reader and general Bike Guru, she wasn't about to head off alone. Probably wise, it's a strange experience if you're not used to it.
Go West Young Man!
We got to the second tea stop after a hectic (but entirely legal) dash across the West Country. Baggy propping her eyes open, me poring over a map and Andy snoozing beside me. At least the smell of his shoes helped us to stay awake. I just hope you gave them a decent burial when you got home Munky...
We were pitching the table at Luppitt (no time to pop in to North Curry) when the first riders appeared. They were very patient and sat watching the boiler while Baggy did her best domestic goddess impression, laying out biscuits and cutting cake. Andy, meanwhile, had retreated to the back of the van and was barely visible under a pile of bedding. I had to wake him later so that we could pack the van again. I felt so mean and he did actually wail like a tiny kitten. Bless...
The second stop was lovely, less frenzied than the first but with the sun rising through the woods behind us it was a beautiful morning and everyone was in fine spirits. There were two tandem crews on this years ride but one of them, riding a fine Roberts had got Big Problems. Baggy and I had prepared for just about any eventuality. We had tools, spare wheels in two sizes, a jig and a workstand. Did we have a spare rear tandem wheel? Er...... They'd hit a nasty pot hole and split their rim. They soldiered on but eventually had to pack at Tipton St John. Luckily one of their friends had a car and managed to rescue them, putting the bike on the roof padded with pillows and using inner tubes for bungee cords.
Eventually we packed up, but not before the Lanterne Rouge rolled in. This chap deserves a special mention. Redfox, take a bow. Riding 100 miles to the start?
Then tackling the Exodus? Chapeau old chap, that was heroic, epic and very well ridden. Special plaudits for being able to maintain a polite conversation and be friendly, despite a thousand yard stare and looking completely knackered. Truly inspirational.
Thank you and goodnight...
Ok, thank yous.
Dave - for starting this thing in the first place, organising stuff and running the half way stop. It's a pity you missed the end.
Everyone who made a donation. The whole thing runs on goodwill and donations, so the money that accumulated in the hat was very much appreciated. I reckon we've more than covered our costs and there should be a few quid in the kitty for next year. Thank you.
Dawn and crew at the cafe. I spoke to Dawn and she was very happy to have us and very happy that everyone who was waiting at the cafe when she opened was so polite and appreciative.
Stew, Ian and a chap whose name I didn't catch for riding sweeper. Thanks guys.
Andy for lending us the van.
Lesley Smith at Devon County Council Travelwise for sponsoring us again.
Patrick Field, for not organising Christmas.
GrahamG - for his nuts and generally being a Jolly Good Chap.
Everyone who rode, for being friendly, cheerful and great fun. We throughly enjoyed running the Squeaky Lobster Cafe. Next year we'll be back. This time with even more malt loaf.
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