Graeme Sides
New Member
- Location
- Leeds
Me and two mates attempted this on Saturday and I wrote a blog on it if anyone would like to read it.....
Saturday 22nd June 2013, me and two of my good mates Glynn Beale and Alan Morley Jnr set upon the task of trying to complete the 127 mile Liverpool to Leeds bike ride to raise money for Cancer Research UK, in a day!
It was always going to be an uphill task, not helped by the facts that myself and Glynn had only been back from a messy week in Ibiza eight days ago, neither of us had slept the night prior to the bike ride, I had a chest infection, Glynn only started training for the event on Monday, oh and none of us knew anything about bikes, not even how to change a puncture! Morley on the other hand was just pleased to be allowed out for the day by his missus.
My uncle, who picked us up at 3.15am, dropped us off at Liverpool Docks for a 5am start.
We knew we had our work cut out if we were going to complete the ride in a day but at the back of my mind I was thinking 'how hard can it be', although the furthest I’d ever cycled was 12 miles to Leeds and back on tarmac from Rodley Canal.
It did however turn out to be the most physically challenging, mentally draining [apart from maybe learning algebra, that was hard] twenty four hours of my life!
And so, it got underway, all of us in high spirits, we got off to a flyer.
Until five minutes in that was when we hit our first of many hurdles of the day. A section of the canal was cordoned off and over the other side of the canal a scouse policeman told us, ‘Can’t go past there lads, crime scene’. How stereotypical, a dead body in the canal in Liverpool. We tried negotiating with him but he wasn’t having it, so we asked for an alternate route to get around the crime scene but he came across as being pretty thick and just shrugged his shoulders. Anyway we came off the canal, not before Bealey shouting ‘Cheers for nothing, scouse pig’, luckily he didn’t come after us or the bike ride would have been rather short lived.
We cycled around Liverpool town centre for about five minutes before finding our way back onto the canal, this was to be regular occurrence throughout the day.
Again we got into rhythm stopping after about an hour for our first drinks break. All in buoyant mood we calculated we should be finished by about 7pm, how wrong we was!
The first fall of the day, me and Glynn riding ahead heard a bang behind us, we looked back and saw Morley on the floor with his bike besides him, much to our amusement.
Thinking we had plenty of time to spare me and Glynn decided to do a Harlem Shake which Morley filmed, basically we had a gimp dance off then jumped in the canal. As I was on my way out Glynn pushed me back in, then again, by this point I was fearing for my life and thinking this must be how budgie’s feel all their life’s, trapped. Luckily I finally got out after having swallowed half the Leeds Liverpool canal, we dried off and resumed.
Not long after this it was my turn to come off the bike as Morley broke infront of me without making a monkey noise [the code we was using so the others knew was braking], I hit his bike came off did a tipple over and ended up in a nettle bush with my feet over my head getting electrocuted every few seconds by an electric fence, cheers Al.
Our rucksacks were beginning to hurt our shoulders and neck so I decided to get rid of a few items, so into a bin went a bottle of water, a banana and my napoleons casino card, this didn’t make a rite lot of difference to be fair.
Another hour or so in after eating the ten bars of chocolate I brought we were getting hungry, especially Morley who asked every single man and his dog we walked past, ‘You know where there’s a cafe mate’, which slowed us down a bit.
Finally we found one and had a half hour break as we re-fuelled.
We returned to the canal to be caught in yet another storm, by now the wet weather had totally stopped the brakes on my bike from working [even though I paid £45 for a service the day before] and I had to rely on driving into things to stop.
Around dinner time more and more drinks breaks were being taken as fatigue began to kick in, we must have had about 10 cans of red bull and 20 bars of chocolate between us which wasn’t the best diet but kept us going.
About 35 miles in and I heard a shout behind me of, ‘Im done’, I looked back and Glynn was laid on the floor with his bike besides him. He had a five minute sleep then battled on.
We had a meeting and after lengthy discussions came to the agreement that I was going to leave the other two, which had all the recipe’s for disaster as I had no idea how to change a puncture and had the geography skills equivalent to a ****ed up dyslexic monkey.
About ten miles after I left them I had a set to with a swan from Wigan, I hate swans, always have and it came to a head. Fair play it was protecting it’s puppies and wife but all I wanted to do was go past it without any trouble. Anyway, which ever way I went it cut my path off, so I thought right me and you lets sort this once and for all. So I threw my bike to floor and said ‘Come on then’. It spread it’s wings and started hissing at me, so I roared at it like a tiger expecting it to back down, it didn’t and started to advance towards me, at this point I backed off, only as I didn’t want to show it up infront of it’s wife, not because I was scared or anything. Anyway I sat on the wall until it walked off which was around five minutes later. I hate swans.
Disaster struck, about ten miles east of Accrington I got a puncture, a bad one, I tried to ignore it thinking it would go away, but it didn't. I thought to myself no way am I quitting so pulled out the puncture repair kit from my bag and decided this is the moment I become a man and learn how to change a puncture. I started reading the instructions and it made me dizzy so I threw the kit in the canal.
I tried carrying on cycling with the puncture but after about five miles on grass and rubble felt like I was cycling in cement and knew Id be cycling until next weekend at this pace. Knowing I still had around half way to go I was absolutely gutted, I thought the ride was over. I turned my phone on to see where the other two were. Glynn had got on a train home about half an hour ago and Morley had just got to a train station in Accrington. I pleaded with Morley to come meet me to swap bikes, he asked how far I was from Accrington and I replied, ‘Not far mate’. One and a half hour later he turned up looking at me like I’d spat on his kid. I said to him, ‘Mate, you’re a legend’. He replied, ‘You’re a f***ing liar’.
I realised that the saying ‘Failing to prepare is preparing to fail’ is a load of rubbish, all you need is determination, loads of chocolate and a screw loose.
I was sad for Glynn having to call it a day but he still did well considering he had only done four days training for the bike ride, Morley too but on the other hand happy as I could have his bike and carry on.
Back on track after an unwanted rest, I got my foot down for an hour.
Approaching Burnley, which was around the half way point, I was really struggling for energy again and thought if I don’t come across a shop soon I may actually pass out. Luckily, or so I thought at the time, a Tesco was down some steps just off the canal. I went down and spent £17 on chocolate and red bull to last me for the rest of the trip as I knew I couldn’t really stop again as it was a race against time to get to Leeds before dark! I devoured a pack of fruit pastilles which I reckon saved my life.
Then a major set back, I got back to the canal and ridiculously tired couldn’t remember which direction I’d come off from. With a one in two chance I was always going to get it wrong, which I did. Not noticing anything I thought I must be going the right way, until I came across a sign about five miles later confirming my fear, I was heading back to Liverpool. So I turned around again thinking get off at the next point and get a train home, but I didn’t, this time thinking about how much money I had raised and didn’t want to have to give it all back.
Well into the heart of Burnley now and I came to a lock where I had to leave the canal, there was about fifty of these throughout the day, each time I struggled to find my way back to the canal and had to ask several people. Only at Burnley they all kept telling me the wrong direction, probably because I had Leeds United shorts on. After around forty minutes I finally found my way back to the canal.
As Will off the inbetweeners once said, ‘I don’t mind football but Burnley, Burnley can f*** off!’
In all throughout the day I must have been lost for around four hours and cycled around twenty five miles extra trying to find my way back onto the canal.
The rain and gale force wind started battering my face making cycling along what seemed endless rubble and grass all the harder. I read a forum a few week prior to the bike ride and a few people on it said the wind blew from the west, which is part of the reason why we started from Liverpool. They lied! The whole day we had wind and rain blowing towards us.
Approaching Skipton and little did I know this was about to be the worst two hours [which felt like two months] of my life. There must have been twenty miles worth of narrow bike tracks a bike wheels could only just fit in, constant grass where I felt like was peddling backwards at times it was that muddy and wet, not to mention the 2400 gates I had to open then close or climb over.
Deep in conversation with myself I decided Skipton need to fit some footpaths on top of all the grass, this would more likely get done if they had a human in their village and not just sheep. I also came to the conclusion that I hate myself.
Finally coming off at a lock a long stretch of downhill, I was buzzing, I flew down what must have been around quarter of a mile, only for the end of it to be a farm with some free range chickens giving me funny looks. At this point I was expecting and a bit of me hoping to be shot by a farmer, but I wasn’t. So I had to double back, climb the steep hill and re enter the canal where I should have done it the first place.
I approached a sign for Keighley and realised I was on the home straight. Crossing a bit of road separating two locks I wasn’t concentrating, infact at this point I was illusinating like the few days after Ibiza. I just walked out into the road and a car very nearly hit me, I half raised my hand to apologise as didn’t have the energy to fully raise it and carried on.
My arms, ankles, wrists, shoulders, neck, quads all in agony I thought to myself when interrogating a member of the taliban they shouldn’t stick nails in their eyes or whatever they do nower days, they should just make them do the Liverpool to Leeds bike ride, they would definitely confess all then.
Really lagging at this point, again I nearly called it a day but was spurred on by the doubters who said we’d ‘never do it in a day’, the fear of failure and also the fact I’m from Yorkshire and really didn’t want to have to pay for a train home!
It occurred to me that Id only saw one other cyclist all day other than us three, no one else was daft enough to come out on their bike in this weather!
Trying to keep myself awake at this point and with a lot of time to think to myself I began to ask myself some questions, like:
Me: ‘What is the worse thing you’ve ever done?’
Me: ‘This bike ride’.
Me: ‘What do you want to be when your older?’
Me: ‘Not a cyclist’.
Me: ‘How do they get the white bits on top of the chocolate on Milka bars?’
I didn’t know the answer to this one.
Starting to cycle slower and slower I was running on empty at this point, I stopped, rummaged through my bag looking for scraps and was over the moon to find a can of red bull, well a can of boost which is poor mans red bull. So to get the most out of it I realised I had to really go for it as the energy kick runs out about two thirds quicker than proper red bull.
Nearly at Apperley Bridge I realised how polite I was. Even though I was feeling a lot of hate for the world right now I was still saying ‘Excuse me’, ‘Please’ and ‘Thankyou’ to all the knob heads that were getting in my way. The credit for this has to go to my parents for the great job they did at bringing me up.
I then realised I really am polite when noticed I could say ‘Thankyou’ in four languages: Merci [French], Gracias [Spanish], Danke [German] and thankyou [English].
Approaching Rodley Canal and I swallowed the first fly of the day through my eyeballs. Normally when I cycle the short distance from Rodley to Leeds I swallow about a thousand. This must be because flies don’t come out in the rain, little puffs.
With just 6 ¼ miles to go my brother was waiting for me at Rodley Canal with a head torch and a bottle of water, he then drove to town to meet me where I arrived about half an hour later.
All in all I believe this was due to all the obstacles faced my biggest achievement to date. I hope all the family I’ve lost over the years, which was my main motivation throughout the day will be proud of me looking down.
Also I would like to say a massive thankyou all that helped me raise over £500 for Cancer Research UK which made it all worthwhile!
Ps, bike free to a good home, or a bad one!
Saturday 22nd June 2013, me and two of my good mates Glynn Beale and Alan Morley Jnr set upon the task of trying to complete the 127 mile Liverpool to Leeds bike ride to raise money for Cancer Research UK, in a day!
It was always going to be an uphill task, not helped by the facts that myself and Glynn had only been back from a messy week in Ibiza eight days ago, neither of us had slept the night prior to the bike ride, I had a chest infection, Glynn only started training for the event on Monday, oh and none of us knew anything about bikes, not even how to change a puncture! Morley on the other hand was just pleased to be allowed out for the day by his missus.
My uncle, who picked us up at 3.15am, dropped us off at Liverpool Docks for a 5am start.
We knew we had our work cut out if we were going to complete the ride in a day but at the back of my mind I was thinking 'how hard can it be', although the furthest I’d ever cycled was 12 miles to Leeds and back on tarmac from Rodley Canal.
It did however turn out to be the most physically challenging, mentally draining [apart from maybe learning algebra, that was hard] twenty four hours of my life!
And so, it got underway, all of us in high spirits, we got off to a flyer.
Until five minutes in that was when we hit our first of many hurdles of the day. A section of the canal was cordoned off and over the other side of the canal a scouse policeman told us, ‘Can’t go past there lads, crime scene’. How stereotypical, a dead body in the canal in Liverpool. We tried negotiating with him but he wasn’t having it, so we asked for an alternate route to get around the crime scene but he came across as being pretty thick and just shrugged his shoulders. Anyway we came off the canal, not before Bealey shouting ‘Cheers for nothing, scouse pig’, luckily he didn’t come after us or the bike ride would have been rather short lived.
We cycled around Liverpool town centre for about five minutes before finding our way back onto the canal, this was to be regular occurrence throughout the day.
Again we got into rhythm stopping after about an hour for our first drinks break. All in buoyant mood we calculated we should be finished by about 7pm, how wrong we was!
The first fall of the day, me and Glynn riding ahead heard a bang behind us, we looked back and saw Morley on the floor with his bike besides him, much to our amusement.
Thinking we had plenty of time to spare me and Glynn decided to do a Harlem Shake which Morley filmed, basically we had a gimp dance off then jumped in the canal. As I was on my way out Glynn pushed me back in, then again, by this point I was fearing for my life and thinking this must be how budgie’s feel all their life’s, trapped. Luckily I finally got out after having swallowed half the Leeds Liverpool canal, we dried off and resumed.
Not long after this it was my turn to come off the bike as Morley broke infront of me without making a monkey noise [the code we was using so the others knew was braking], I hit his bike came off did a tipple over and ended up in a nettle bush with my feet over my head getting electrocuted every few seconds by an electric fence, cheers Al.
Our rucksacks were beginning to hurt our shoulders and neck so I decided to get rid of a few items, so into a bin went a bottle of water, a banana and my napoleons casino card, this didn’t make a rite lot of difference to be fair.
Another hour or so in after eating the ten bars of chocolate I brought we were getting hungry, especially Morley who asked every single man and his dog we walked past, ‘You know where there’s a cafe mate’, which slowed us down a bit.
Finally we found one and had a half hour break as we re-fuelled.
We returned to the canal to be caught in yet another storm, by now the wet weather had totally stopped the brakes on my bike from working [even though I paid £45 for a service the day before] and I had to rely on driving into things to stop.
Around dinner time more and more drinks breaks were being taken as fatigue began to kick in, we must have had about 10 cans of red bull and 20 bars of chocolate between us which wasn’t the best diet but kept us going.
About 35 miles in and I heard a shout behind me of, ‘Im done’, I looked back and Glynn was laid on the floor with his bike besides him. He had a five minute sleep then battled on.
We had a meeting and after lengthy discussions came to the agreement that I was going to leave the other two, which had all the recipe’s for disaster as I had no idea how to change a puncture and had the geography skills equivalent to a ****ed up dyslexic monkey.
About ten miles after I left them I had a set to with a swan from Wigan, I hate swans, always have and it came to a head. Fair play it was protecting it’s puppies and wife but all I wanted to do was go past it without any trouble. Anyway, which ever way I went it cut my path off, so I thought right me and you lets sort this once and for all. So I threw my bike to floor and said ‘Come on then’. It spread it’s wings and started hissing at me, so I roared at it like a tiger expecting it to back down, it didn’t and started to advance towards me, at this point I backed off, only as I didn’t want to show it up infront of it’s wife, not because I was scared or anything. Anyway I sat on the wall until it walked off which was around five minutes later. I hate swans.
Disaster struck, about ten miles east of Accrington I got a puncture, a bad one, I tried to ignore it thinking it would go away, but it didn't. I thought to myself no way am I quitting so pulled out the puncture repair kit from my bag and decided this is the moment I become a man and learn how to change a puncture. I started reading the instructions and it made me dizzy so I threw the kit in the canal.
I tried carrying on cycling with the puncture but after about five miles on grass and rubble felt like I was cycling in cement and knew Id be cycling until next weekend at this pace. Knowing I still had around half way to go I was absolutely gutted, I thought the ride was over. I turned my phone on to see where the other two were. Glynn had got on a train home about half an hour ago and Morley had just got to a train station in Accrington. I pleaded with Morley to come meet me to swap bikes, he asked how far I was from Accrington and I replied, ‘Not far mate’. One and a half hour later he turned up looking at me like I’d spat on his kid. I said to him, ‘Mate, you’re a legend’. He replied, ‘You’re a f***ing liar’.
I realised that the saying ‘Failing to prepare is preparing to fail’ is a load of rubbish, all you need is determination, loads of chocolate and a screw loose.
I was sad for Glynn having to call it a day but he still did well considering he had only done four days training for the bike ride, Morley too but on the other hand happy as I could have his bike and carry on.
Back on track after an unwanted rest, I got my foot down for an hour.
Approaching Burnley, which was around the half way point, I was really struggling for energy again and thought if I don’t come across a shop soon I may actually pass out. Luckily, or so I thought at the time, a Tesco was down some steps just off the canal. I went down and spent £17 on chocolate and red bull to last me for the rest of the trip as I knew I couldn’t really stop again as it was a race against time to get to Leeds before dark! I devoured a pack of fruit pastilles which I reckon saved my life.
Then a major set back, I got back to the canal and ridiculously tired couldn’t remember which direction I’d come off from. With a one in two chance I was always going to get it wrong, which I did. Not noticing anything I thought I must be going the right way, until I came across a sign about five miles later confirming my fear, I was heading back to Liverpool. So I turned around again thinking get off at the next point and get a train home, but I didn’t, this time thinking about how much money I had raised and didn’t want to have to give it all back.
Well into the heart of Burnley now and I came to a lock where I had to leave the canal, there was about fifty of these throughout the day, each time I struggled to find my way back to the canal and had to ask several people. Only at Burnley they all kept telling me the wrong direction, probably because I had Leeds United shorts on. After around forty minutes I finally found my way back to the canal.
As Will off the inbetweeners once said, ‘I don’t mind football but Burnley, Burnley can f*** off!’
In all throughout the day I must have been lost for around four hours and cycled around twenty five miles extra trying to find my way back onto the canal.
The rain and gale force wind started battering my face making cycling along what seemed endless rubble and grass all the harder. I read a forum a few week prior to the bike ride and a few people on it said the wind blew from the west, which is part of the reason why we started from Liverpool. They lied! The whole day we had wind and rain blowing towards us.
Approaching Skipton and little did I know this was about to be the worst two hours [which felt like two months] of my life. There must have been twenty miles worth of narrow bike tracks a bike wheels could only just fit in, constant grass where I felt like was peddling backwards at times it was that muddy and wet, not to mention the 2400 gates I had to open then close or climb over.
Deep in conversation with myself I decided Skipton need to fit some footpaths on top of all the grass, this would more likely get done if they had a human in their village and not just sheep. I also came to the conclusion that I hate myself.
Finally coming off at a lock a long stretch of downhill, I was buzzing, I flew down what must have been around quarter of a mile, only for the end of it to be a farm with some free range chickens giving me funny looks. At this point I was expecting and a bit of me hoping to be shot by a farmer, but I wasn’t. So I had to double back, climb the steep hill and re enter the canal where I should have done it the first place.
I approached a sign for Keighley and realised I was on the home straight. Crossing a bit of road separating two locks I wasn’t concentrating, infact at this point I was illusinating like the few days after Ibiza. I just walked out into the road and a car very nearly hit me, I half raised my hand to apologise as didn’t have the energy to fully raise it and carried on.
My arms, ankles, wrists, shoulders, neck, quads all in agony I thought to myself when interrogating a member of the taliban they shouldn’t stick nails in their eyes or whatever they do nower days, they should just make them do the Liverpool to Leeds bike ride, they would definitely confess all then.
Really lagging at this point, again I nearly called it a day but was spurred on by the doubters who said we’d ‘never do it in a day’, the fear of failure and also the fact I’m from Yorkshire and really didn’t want to have to pay for a train home!
It occurred to me that Id only saw one other cyclist all day other than us three, no one else was daft enough to come out on their bike in this weather!
Trying to keep myself awake at this point and with a lot of time to think to myself I began to ask myself some questions, like:
Me: ‘What is the worse thing you’ve ever done?’
Me: ‘This bike ride’.
Me: ‘What do you want to be when your older?’
Me: ‘Not a cyclist’.
Me: ‘How do they get the white bits on top of the chocolate on Milka bars?’
I didn’t know the answer to this one.
Starting to cycle slower and slower I was running on empty at this point, I stopped, rummaged through my bag looking for scraps and was over the moon to find a can of red bull, well a can of boost which is poor mans red bull. So to get the most out of it I realised I had to really go for it as the energy kick runs out about two thirds quicker than proper red bull.
Nearly at Apperley Bridge I realised how polite I was. Even though I was feeling a lot of hate for the world right now I was still saying ‘Excuse me’, ‘Please’ and ‘Thankyou’ to all the knob heads that were getting in my way. The credit for this has to go to my parents for the great job they did at bringing me up.
I then realised I really am polite when noticed I could say ‘Thankyou’ in four languages: Merci [French], Gracias [Spanish], Danke [German] and thankyou [English].
Approaching Rodley Canal and I swallowed the first fly of the day through my eyeballs. Normally when I cycle the short distance from Rodley to Leeds I swallow about a thousand. This must be because flies don’t come out in the rain, little puffs.
With just 6 ¼ miles to go my brother was waiting for me at Rodley Canal with a head torch and a bottle of water, he then drove to town to meet me where I arrived about half an hour later.
All in all I believe this was due to all the obstacles faced my biggest achievement to date. I hope all the family I’ve lost over the years, which was my main motivation throughout the day will be proud of me looking down.
Also I would like to say a massive thankyou all that helped me raise over £500 for Cancer Research UK which made it all worthwhile!
Ps, bike free to a good home, or a bad one!
