What a splendid weekend that was.... actually better than last year in a few key aspects:
Trains instead of rail replacement bus services (or, in our case, Even More Cycling, Compulsory).
I got to Fish Tram Chips, in time for chips.
Fewer nav errors.
More riding with/trying to chase down others. Wot helps the speed greatly.
Chips
Chips
Chips
Oh, and Llandudno promenade became Stuttgart-Zuffenhausen am See on Sunday morning.
Back to Friday. Booked on the same, 1420 Euston-Piccadilly service as last year. So 1154 train from Fratton, the obligatory slog over to Euston (it should be ten minutes, it never is), and then an uneventful service Oop North. Full quota of orange cardboard, which made life easier.
Into the Ibis on Princess Street, bike safely in room, then a little shopping (HMV in the Arndale, for new Rammstein album, playing both down and upstairs. Quite right). After that, a very pleasant evening with Nick, Skolly, Mossy & Claud in firstly the Seven Brothers Brewhouse (most excellent burger, nom), then Northern Monk.
Six am alarm, a comprehensive buffet breakfast (and snaffled some OJ for the bottles, plus an apple for later), then over to Piccadilly where one pannier was left in the capable hands of Mrs Nick & son, before joining the ensemble round the front. I used the lift this time, much easier....
We left pretty much bang on time, and after the usual schlep out of the city, the pace picked up nicely. Nick's ETA of 1030 for Weaverham proved pretty accurate. Went for the steak & stilton pie again, filled a hole (temporarily). After saying farewell to those leaving here, the rest of us for the most part stuck together. Certainly helped keep the collective speed up.
After much rolling ups and downs- which felt like mostly ups, on to Eureka, where Mr & Mrs Kes bailed for a train, Anita having struggled a bit, Colin turned back east, a few more joined us, and many calories were consumed. I think I skimped a bit on the lunch stop last year, didn't risk that again.
Then, onwards and upwards. More groups formed as pace ebbed and flowed, breaks taken, etc, but there always seemed to be someone to ride with, or try and catch up with. Along the stretch into Flint, I was riding with Peter (
@Domus) and Chap on E-MTB whose name I didn't catch, and was careful to warn them I was taking the hilly route. Not for the unwary, that bit...
Made the mistake of taking the most direct route to Cornist Lane (steep, muddy, wet, debris...walked it rather than come a cropper), before the main event, which didn't feel as bad as last time (Luggage, in a word). Followed
@McWobble's sage advice about joining Llephrog Lane via the official route, and that proved far less terrifying than last year. Piece of cake in fact. Eventually, after however many Oh God It's Going Up Again moments it took, down to Rhyl, where Claud, McW, Tony & Tom were resting at the bike hub. Rhyl is much less annoying when you avoid it!
Along NCN5, where I tried and failed to keep pace with the group, those bastard rises again getting the better of me, headwind pretty brutal at times. Rejoined Tony and Tom at Colwyn, they'd stopped for a rest, and attempted to keep pace with then for a bit. Until Penrhyn Hill, which I decided to walk. The bike path gradient is just silly, and I wasn't going to make it. The road looks a better bet, slightly.
And finally, down to the town. It's about half six. Chips are on menu. Yay! Made FTC at about 1845, and (I think) the last there. But not a problem. Cod and chips was generously portioned. Most delicious, and much needed.
Then over to Rosaire Guest House, where my shower got interrupted by an excess of water (through the ceiling, plumbing problem upstairs). Then, over to Tapps, and a most pleasant evening of nattering and drinking.
Splendid full Welsh this morning, before a little car spotting. Any car you like, as long as it's a Porsche. Porsche Club GB does an annual meet on the prom, and hundreds of cars turned up. Pretty much every model short of the really, really, really expensive ones (someone was in a 911 RS 2.7, though... something like £250k). Even a flatnose 911 Turbo, and a Ruf-modified 911, neither of which I'd ever seen before. Quite funny to see RS models (stripped-out roll-caged track-day specials) with child seats....Then, cutting it somewhat fine, to the junction station, my train to Euston, and aforementioned surprise meeting.
Back to work for a rest tomorrow!
Thanks Nick et al. Same again next year...hopefully!