Riders ;- Mike (leader) Anthony, Martin, John W, Paddy, Jim, and JAMES BOND *
*Agent 007 (ish). Alias John R
A change of rendezvous and a morsel of mysterious mechanical machinations led to a slightly delayed start. By 9.45, however, a convoy of bicycle laden cars departed Tower Green and headed North along the A6, A later start had it's advantages as the roads were , by now, quiet and we were soon pulling into the car park at Glasson Dock. No boots to don but bikes had to be downloaded and in some cases partially re-assembled.
We quickly crossed the road , passing as we did, the new "superior" but expensive toilet block that had replaced the old one and off on the well defined bicycle track following the route of the old railtrack.
After a few hundred yards the track crossed a deep and muddy creek at which point a shout from behind told us that there was a hitch and we needed to wait,
Here we see Paddy up the creek. Sorry ! Let me rephrase that. Waiting up over the creek. It was only a short wait before the "Pelleton" was together again. Now with the Lune shining to our left we pedalled on through the car park at Condor Green and forged ahead towards Lancaster. The cycleway, 'though somewhat "gravelly" was clear and well surfaced with seating at regular intervals. It is obviously a popular facility as other cyclist passed us travelling in the opposite direction whilst further "Speedier" folk overtook us. Walkers too, both dog- encumbered ( must keep my prejudices out of this !) and canine free were also following the track in large numbers.
A short dogleg took us off the first surface and onto a metalled section which made our progress towards the County Town smoother and easier. OH NO IT DIDN'T ! Fallen trees and wind had combined to scatter small branches and twigs across our path. Relatively harmless, except that some of the twigs bore sharp thorns. Now history has taught us that James Bond (J.R.) has an affinity with sharp pointy twigs and sure enough a regular flapping noise from his front wheel was on investigation shown to be a large thorn (still attached to twig) deeply embedded in the tyre. When removed a clearly audible hissing began.. The words emanating from our secret agent's mouth clearly indicated that he was both stirred and shaken. (more sort of p----d off really). But as usual John's spirit allowed him to press on regardless hoping to get to the planned stop (The Millennium Bridge) before feeling deflated.
It was not be. A few hundred yards before the bridge John had to dismount and walk the rest of the way together with the solicitous Mike.
Whilst the rest of the group sat with their elevenses Mike and John set to repair the puncture. The application of much spittle and brainpower at last found the tiny leaking aperture. The offending tube (not fair - "offended" tube) was replaced by a spare and all the cycles were road-ready again.
At this point the decision was taken to travel Eastward along the Lune valley rather than cross the river and head coast ward into a increasingly brisk headwind. The short stretch past the Millennium Bridge was a trifle tricky as once over the aluminium floored bridge an underpass awaited with steep slopes and awkward barriers designed to slow cyclists down - they did!
From here onwards the cycleway became wider and smoother as it forged on towards the Crook O' Lune and Caton the turning point on our planned ride. Our valiant Velo-riders speed onwards.
Whether walking or cycling lunch is important to any Meanderthal. and lunchtime had arrived. We we were not too distant from the beauty spot "Crook O' Lune" and this would provide the ideal dining destination, Picnic tables were available and the views are nothing less than magical. Indeed so magical are they that the artist J M W Turner sat at this same spot to capture the view that was to be presented before us. Before we reached this wonderful site (sight ?) we had a short tunnel to duck through . Above which was a delightful wrought iron representation of a heron. Unusually this was to be the only heron we saw as we followed the river. Perhaps they are all perched on top of high trees in their heronry as the young-raising season is in full swing. Immediately after the tunnel, we crossed the first of the two consecutive bridges that carry pedlers and pedestrians over the tight loop in the river that forms the "Crook".
The view at the "Crook" was undeniably wonderful but the chill breeze that blew around us was less wonderful and after eating lunch and admiring the said view.which had the unfortunate property of being of "Yorkshire" we were soon off again to our final destination "Caton"
Here we are looking up the Lune valley from the very spot that Turner reputedly sat and painted. In the distance the shelving slopes of the magnificent (Though Yorkist) "Ingleborough"
Our route now led us quickly towards Caton but paused briefly at the catholic church of "Our Lady of Lourdes" a converted station building.
And so we arrived at Caton. A car park known as Bullbrook.. Here we were treated to brew (by Paddy ....and Jim ?) and the author quickly downed a superb hot chocolate complete with marshmallows. Now was the time for our secret agent to risk life and limb by declaring his dislike of the seasonal invaders who threaten our highways and bye ways by their concerted attack on the freedom of movement of persons and goods throughout the country. He bravely and boldly named the enemy - "Caravanners". Little did he know that our group had been infiltrated by one of their number. Counter spy Cullen. (I seem to remember this fellow has been under suspicion before !!)
Now our task was to simply return the way we had come. "Simply" only refers to the route. No physical effort is ever simple to amateur sportsmen and on a personal basis my uncushioned rear end was finding the task increasingly "challenging". Just as the river flowed swiftly downstream we found ourselves flowing surprisingly rapidly as we were now gravity assisted. We were to have one final "scare" as a short stop back at the millennium Bridge led to the discovery that we had lost Martin. This was rather a worry as on our last outing he left part of his leg in "some corner of a foreign field" surely no further "bits" were to go astray. Immediately Mike turned into a border Collie and set off "away to me" only to "Come bye" as Martin reappeared all by himself.
All together again and just the final stretch back to Glasson Dock. A few minutes spent attaching bikes to assorted racks and our delightful day was over, Our spokes man said that no-one had been tyred out. That we were all in the right gear and that we had all had a wheely good day. The weather had once again blessed us. Our leader had worked hard for us all and James Bond had once again proved highly entertaining. Hippo, Secret Agent....whatever next ?
Great day. Well done Mike. Here's to the next ride (when gluteus maximus is back to normal).
A short dogleg took us off the first surface and onto a metalled section which made our progress towards the County Town smoother and easier. OH NO IT DIDN'T ! Fallen trees and wind had combined to scatter small branches and twigs across our path. Relatively harmless, except that some of the twigs bore sharp thorns. Now history has taught us that James Bond (J.R.) has an affinity with sharp pointy twigs and sure enough a regular flapping noise from his front wheel was on investigation shown to be a large thorn (still attached to twig) deeply embedded in the tyre. When removed a clearly audible hissing began.. The words emanating from our secret agent's mouth clearly indicated that he was both stirred and shaken. (more sort of p----d off really). But as usual John's spirit allowed him to press on regardless hoping to get to the planned stop (The Millennium Bridge) before feeling deflated.
It was not be. A few hundred yards before the bridge John had to dismount and walk the rest of the way together with the solicitous Mike.
Whilst the rest of the group sat with their elevenses Mike and John set to repair the puncture. The application of much spittle and brainpower at last found the tiny leaking aperture. The offending tube (not fair - "offended" tube) was replaced by a spare and all the cycles were road-ready again.
At this point the decision was taken to travel Eastward along the Lune valley rather than cross the river and head coast ward into a increasingly brisk headwind. The short stretch past the Millennium Bridge was a trifle tricky as once over the aluminium floored bridge an underpass awaited with steep slopes and awkward barriers designed to slow cyclists down - they did!
From here onwards the cycleway became wider and smoother as it forged on towards the Crook O' Lune and Caton the turning point on our planned ride. Our valiant Velo-riders speed onwards.
Whether walking or cycling lunch is important to any Meanderthal. and lunchtime had arrived. We we were not too distant from the beauty spot "Crook O' Lune" and this would provide the ideal dining destination, Picnic tables were available and the views are nothing less than magical. Indeed so magical are they that the artist J M W Turner sat at this same spot to capture the view that was to be presented before us. Before we reached this wonderful site (sight ?) we had a short tunnel to duck through . Above which was a delightful wrought iron representation of a heron. Unusually this was to be the only heron we saw as we followed the river. Perhaps they are all perched on top of high trees in their heronry as the young-raising season is in full swing. Immediately after the tunnel, we crossed the first of the two consecutive bridges that carry pedlers and pedestrians over the tight loop in the river that forms the "Crook".
The view at the "Crook" was undeniably wonderful but the chill breeze that blew around us was less wonderful and after eating lunch and admiring the said view.which had the unfortunate property of being of "Yorkshire" we were soon off again to our final destination "Caton"
Here we are looking up the Lune valley from the very spot that Turner reputedly sat and painted. In the distance the shelving slopes of the magnificent (Though Yorkist) "Ingleborough"
Our route now led us quickly towards Caton but paused briefly at the catholic church of "Our Lady of Lourdes" a converted station building.
Great day. Well done Mike. Here's to the next ride (when gluteus maximus is back to normal).
