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Seeming like an eternity, thanks to the Saturday morning trans-Pennine
express (!), exploits with pumps, bells and sports drinks, our
intrepid adventurers began their voyage of bewilderment and discovery
almost 140 miles from home, with their wheels in the sea on the
slipway at Whitehaven.
After just twenty miles in, the advance party of Rafferty and
Pasco had already disappeared into the distance, leaving the peloton
to admire the fine views on offer, for the time being. With the
group enjoying an impromptu pub stop, the second breakaway party
of Andy “tigger (bounces over everything)” McCoy and
Dave “first to the top” Savage began the first testing
climb of the day with the ascent of Whinlatter, reaching the summit
(refuelling on coffee and cake) and waiting an hour or so to regroup,
the party embarked once more with the days final dramatic consequence
still to be encountered.
The journey down through Whinlatter`s run of the mill forest roads
was quite ordinary, until the mixture of pointing downhill, sharp
left turn, gravel and 8 bikes gave way to the most terrific, high
speed “You’ve been framed” moment of the whole
weekend. One by one, our gallant explorers tasted the dirt in
their own special way, with each one jumping up like Meerkats
in the African plains, as if to defend their pride (top marks
though, to Gary “triple Salko” Allison, for his dive
into the bushes and Peter “ Klinsmann” Knowles, for
his own special way of protecting Mr. Savage’s investment).
It must be said though, that the understatement of the day must
go to Barry “the hat” Stell and Gary “wakey”
Wakefield for missing the point of impact, thanking the group
for waiting for them (!!) and failing to notice the group picking
sticks out of teeth, the straightening of wheels and the soothing
of nettle stings with obligatory Dock leaves.
From then on in, apart from Dean
“pedals” Phillips managing to forget to put feet down
before stopping, and doing a “trigger” (not just once
but at least three times), pints getting spilled, drinking, dancing
and falling asleep on the toilet, the continuing journey proved
relatively normal.
With Saturdays crash stories (and cries of “are you`s cats?)
still ringing in hung over ears, our explorers continued their
tour up and over the Lake District hills and out to the lunchtime
stopover in Penrith minus of course, the expeditionary forces
known as Rafferty and Pasco. As the stop coincided with a certain
Tyne-Tees derby game, the mix of 13 Geordies, Mackems, Smoggies
(dressed in lycra) and 600 Anglo-German Hells Angels (kitted out
in leather and studs) all being located in the same hostelry,
lunchtime came and went surprisingly uneventfully. Perhaps tiredness,
food, drink and football are after all, the answer to the Worlds
problems!!
Pressing on towards the days monster climb, what was once harmless
banter turned to sportsman’s focus, with each team member
knowing the forthcoming period up Hartside pass would hurt, be
relentless and that reaching the summit without getting off and
pushing would be an achievement itself. Oh yes, and the fact that
on the other side, the five mile downhill stretch into the sanctity
of Alston’s Cumberland Arms` paper thin walls and home brew
scrumpy would relinquish memories of that days seven hour slog.
For once, team Rafferty and Pasco decided to remain with the group
on the journey out of Alston, however, killer climbs into Nenthead
and Allenheads, ultimately split our spirited party into three,
with Pasco, Rafferty and “tigger” McCoy, leading the
way (until an untimely 10 mile detour and puncture through County
Durham left Mr McCoy to carry on relentlessly to the finish alone),
the unstoppable “ carry on regardless” duo of Tommy
McBeth and Ritchie Mulvaney, and the remainder of the team forming
the magnificent seven which would ultimately ride to the finish
together as one.
With the café stop at Allenheads proving a useful refuelling
point before the infamous climb (walk/push/slog) up through the
mine workings of the Rookhope incline, our illustrious party knew
that the path across the moor leading to the easy going cinder
track of Waskerley way and then down along the heritage trails
of Consett, Stanley, Beamish and Washington were almost at their
journey’s end.
As usual the welcoming signs of broken glass, burnt out vehicles
and strange goings on under the Wearmouth Bridge welcomed the
team into Sunderland and the pre-arranged meeting point of the
Harbour view pub, with the teams now joining as one for the final
leg of the ride down onto the fine sheltered, sandy beach at Roker
to dip their wheels in the North Sea, declare the journey over
and their task complete (albeit for a quick couple of pints with
friends and family at the Roker Hotel).
All in all, a highly successful weekend, lots of thrills, spills,
blood, sweat, tears etc. but all for a good cause, namely the
Clarke Lister brain haemorrhage trust who we have all been and
are continuing to be kindly sponsored for. As of today’s
date, the team has managed to raise somewhere in the region of
£1000, although this figure is changing daily, please be
kind enough to pass on any outstanding sponsorship money pledged
to any member of the team or, if not already done so, add your
name to the sponsor book.
Barry Stell
Gary Allison
Gary Wakefield
Dave Savage
Dean Phillips
John Ham
Ritchie Mulvaney
Andy McCoy
Tommy McBeth
Peter Knowles
John Rafferty
Brian Pasco
And the driver,
Mick Bell.
Congratulations to the team and many thanks
for your support.
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