Raking It In
The others went on without me to tackle the climb of the dreaded 'Ramsbottom Rake'. This road twists and turns up the hillside towards the little village of Holcombe above. It starts off steep, then it steepens, until finally... it gets steeper still! I went there a few years ago with Bill to watch the National Cycling Hillclimb Championships and I remembered what a brute it was - we'd had problems walking up it! I got back on my bike and engaged my lowest gear immediately. I knew that I had to conserve what little was left of my strength for the top section so I rode up as slowly as I could while still maintaining my balance. I nearly had to stop when a couple of cars blocked the road in front of me, but they got out of the way just in time. On and on I plodded, until I reached the last bend. I saw a sign to my left - 25% - blimey that WAS a steep road! I managed to get to the top without stopping, but halted at the junction with the A-road ahead, hoping that my heart would not burst, God please don't let me die here, I'm getting too old for this.
I had to cross here, because the route took me off the road behind the pub opposite. A marshal beckoned me across, but I checked for traffic 'just-in-case'; I'm sure that he was trying to get me killed, muhaha. Hmm, perhaps sugar-deprivation was setting in, with attendant paranoia...
The road was clear so I scooted across and stopped for a drink alongside him. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked with a wicked grin. He could see that I was looking 'slightly tired'.
"Well, it will be nice once it's finished..." I replied with a weak smile and pointed back at The Rake, "but whose bright idea was it to get us to ride up THAT hill?" He laughed and said "the same person who changed last year's route so that you now have to climb up to Peel Tower!" I'd conveniently forgotten that change...
More Than You Ever Wanted To Know About Peel Tower
I looked up some information about the tower on the Internet:
"The Peel Tower at Holcombe is more than a local landmark, it commemorates Sir Robert Peel, Prime Minister of Britain between 1841 and 1846, founder of the modern Police Force (once named 'Peelers' and still often referred to as 'Bobbys'). He is also renowned for repealing the Corn Laws. The tower, opened in 1852, is a popular landmark sitting on the top of Holcombe Hill (1100ft.) on the west side of the Irwell Valley offering a magnificent view to those who climb the 150 steps leading to the top." So now you know!
I wearily remounted and set off with my former riding partners who had also been resting after their exertions on The Rake. A bridleway ascended round the left side of the hill. I rode steadily up behind the other riders and noticed that one was missing - 'Volvo Man'. We had nicknamed him that because he was wearing cycling shorts and jersey emblazoned with the logo 'Team Volvo'.
I saw a turn to the right and a little green arrow pointing up it, but it looked impossibly steep. Surely we were going the correct way and somebody had mischievously turned that arrow round to face the other way? I trusted the other riders and followed them to the left. Up and up we went round the side of the hill, and then the path levelled off and started to descend again. I was SURE that we had made a mistake and were heading miles off course again so I rode past the other riders and stopped them. I told them about the arrow but they were not convinced. We stopped a while to think about it, and someone produced a map. It was not clear from that which route we should take.
Carbo-loading For Athletes
Meanwhile, one chap fished out his provisions for the ride - a packet of strawberry jelly and a tin of cold spaghetti hoops - ugh!!! He swore that they gave him plenty of energy, but I think that I will stick to my apples and bananas.
(Of course, by then I'd run out of apples and bananas and would have KILLED for a couple of hits of strawberry jelly cubes with cold spaghetti hoops...)
Suddenly, Volvo Man rode up the hill towards us, wheezing as he approached. We asked him if he'd been held up by a puncture. He replied that he'd got out of breath riding up The ****in' Rake and had stopped for a 'fag-break' to recover; I couldn't believe it!
In the end, I set off back down the hill and the others reluctantly followed me muttering darkly things like "if he's wrong, and we have to ride back up this way again...". We got down to the other turn and on closer examination it obviously WAS the way to go. It was a very steep track which zig-zagged its way up to the foot of the tower above. I did my usual slow steady climb. A few of the other riders also climbed steadily, but faster than I could manage. One young rider had a very odd way of going about it - he would overtake me at a suicidal pace and go up for about 50 yards, before collapsing in a breathless heap. He would just about get his breath back as I passed him, then he would remount, whizz past me and do it all over again. Strange...
I made it to the top, and paused to look around. The tower was a bit square-shaped and ugly, but the views from its base WERE magnificent. I could see right over Manchester to the hills of the Peak District beyond. It was a bit hazy to the west and south-west but on a clear day I think you would be able to see the Irish Sea. Unfortunately, I did not have long for sight-seeing because I had my step-daughter coming for tea later on and needed to keep an eye on the time. I set off along the hill across Holcombe Moor, accompanied by the sole remaining cyclist, Volvo Man, who appeared to be getting grumpier and wheezier by the minute. I think that he was getting tired like me and just wanted to get to the finish.
We carried on together for about 5 miles of undulating moorland, before going down a slightly tricky rocky path to the road at Helmshore i.e. neck-breakingly steep, rutted, rocky, big drop-offs...
Arrows directed us round the back of some houses and somehow we got separated. I think we were both lost because after about 10 minutes of going round in circles, cursing with fatigue, we met up again going in opposite directions! Another friendly resident sent us on our way, but I'm sure HE misdirected us too because we ended up having to carry our bikes down footpaths again. All was not lost, because I suddenly spotted a green arrow pointing behind some factories. We followed that and emerged at Haslingden, where a marshal assured us that it was only 5 miles to the finish. I knew that he was wrong because I remembered that there was at least 10 miles from there last year...
We went up a short steep road and then headed on to a bridleway climbing steeply up behind 'Ski Rossendale'. This is a dry ski slope built onto the side of the hill. Our course takes us round the hill just above it. Despite his evil smoking habit, Volvo Man had got fresh energy from somewhere and pulled away from me and that was the last that I saw of him. I heard a funny flapping sound which began to irritate me. Eventually, I saw that the glued-on tread of one of my cycling shoes wasn't any longer! It had come loose and that really annoyed me so I tore it off and shoved it in my back pocket, never to be glued on again. (In fact I kept those shoes in a box for another 7 years, never wore them again and finally threw them away a couple of weeks ago!)
