I realize I'm a bit tardy with a response to the ride, but many thanks
@nickyboy for organizing, and
@Andrew Br for your splendid hospitality. Apart from the miserable bit in the middle, I had a great time, and it was nice to meet and ride with some new CCers and catch up with some (ahem) old ones.
A ride of contrasts. By the time I was heading into a glorious and warming sunset The Other Side of The Clwyd, the grim no-man's-land between Connah's Quay and Rhyl seemed like a bad dream. I'm not a stranger to that stretch of the A548 - my work occasionally brings me to Clwyd Theatr Cymru, sometimes with mornings free. I once stayed for several days at the Northop Hall
Travelodge, which resulted in a series of exhilarating and terrifying dashes along the A55 - I'd happily repeat that sooner than I'd ride the A548 in a freezing wet westerly again. I was reminded that it was the same stretch of road where a driver killed the unfortunately named Alan Mort a few years back, and then
@Andrew Br revealed he'd been knocked off his bike in pretty much the same place. The whole thing needs slowing to 30mph with cameras, and the through traffic can bugger off onto the A55.
I enjoyed the exit from Manchester; the weather and the countryside before Marbury; going slightly off piste with
@Origamist;
@rich p and Jason; seeing Ade, Crax, Pubbers, Wobblers, Rickshaw Phil and co at Eureka; the comradely respite from misery at Maccy D's; the lift in spirits and view at Towyn; the satisfaction when our
Equipe Lanterne Rouge finally rolled into the genteel environs of Llandudno; the pub and the company in it; and the fact that Wobblers was sufficiently bonkers to miss the last train deliberately and ride all the way back rather than forsake the post-ride beer.
I was sorry that Cubist came a cropper; that Origamist's last memory of the ride was that of Rhyl; that
@mikeee and
@User3094 didn't show; that some idiot put two completely unnecessary bastard hills in the way; that some folk had departed before I got to the pub; that TMN was put off by the terrible musician; that the even-worse musician decided to sit in with the terrible one.
The following morning re-united the scattered Team Slow, joined by
@MossCommuter, over Eggs Benedict and other delights.
@wanda2010 and
@Andrew Br had a Guinness for breakfast, making me feel a bit of a lightweight. I was kindly indulged by
@wanda2010 when I absent-mindedly set off in the wrong direction after breakfast and almost led her up the Great Orme. After coming to my senses, we had a pleasant ride to Llandudno Junction, where I had arranged to meet
@rich p - the silly muppet having booked digs in completely the wrong place.
Epilogue: I hadn't fancied a six hour train ride home the next day, so I asked a pal who lives somewhere rather wonderful atop a
proper bastard hill just south of Knighton if he'd mind a couple of visitors, and Rich and I teamed up for a frivolous half-century across the Shropshire Hills from Shrewsbury. The route was chosen on the hoof, more as a hill-minimizer with beer interlude than anything else. A pleasant gradual climb out on the Longden road suddenly got a bit more testing and we discovered that Shropshire miles are a whole lot longer than real ones. The Three Tuns at Bishop's Castle were a bit jobsworthy about food serving times when we rolled in just after 3pm, but we thought it was rude not to have a quick pint before moving on to the Boar's Head [tip - if you have the chicken in lemon sauce, have it without the lemon sauce], so the stop was a bit lengthier than intended. We picked the flattest route we could find to Presteigne, which turned out to be lined with Tory landowners proclaiming their sense of entitlement with smug blue placards in every field. To escape this we had to climb the aforementioned proper bastard hill, with added luggage in the form of post-ride refreshments. My assurance that the route I had chosen up it was the least horrific of three seemed to be met with some scepticism. Our hosts (one of whom is pictured below) greeted us with an excellent roast chicken dinner, and humoured us by having a glass of wine while we had about six.
We couldn't be arsed with any more hills than were unavoidable the following morning, so we rode the six lumpy but net-downhill miles into Knighton and took the picturesque but ponderous Heart of Wales line to Swansea. There is not much in the way of reception in them thar hills, but I found just enough to read Origamist's post upthread to Rich, as soon as I had stopped crying with laughter. Actually crying - I could barely breathe. We sat in the sun outside the Woodman pub in Blackpill, with the second excellent pie of the weekend and a few very acceptable beers, casting aspersions on passing drivers.
Anyway, thanks again to all involved for an memorable weekend, especially
@rich p,
@Andrew Br (I still have your Ass Saver!),
@wanda2010 and
@nickyboy, and special mention to Skolly for pinging about irrepressibly and giving TMN a helping hand, and
@User (I'm guessing) for helping me find the Travelodge. I've not been in great shape for quite some time now, but I feel the mojo starting to return.
