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An Irish Jig: Riding in historic Ulster Products & Tech • Riding The Ribble & Much More! Issue 4 • 2015 £2.95 AN AUTHENTIC EVENT: REJUVENATING THE YORK RALLY Wheeling Down the Western Front : Through Flanders

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Page 1: Seven Day Cyclist - Issue 4

An Irish Jig: Riding in historic Ulster

Products & Tech • Riding The Ribble & Much More!

Issue 4 • 2015£2.95

AN AUTHENTIC EVENT: REJUVENATING THE

YORK RALLY

Wheeling Down the Western

Front :Through

Flanders

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issue 4 / 20152

WELCOME

Welcome to 7DC, February 2015

In my neck of the woods February began with some sunny days.

Though piercingly cold, it was a distinct improvement on cycling

through late January blizzards. To get out of one of those blasts I went

into a café. Warmed up and noticing a slight lightening of the snowfall

I went to retrieve my bicycle and head for home. Incredibly I found – I

was riding my old sit up and beg – that someone had removed the

wheel nuts. A quick visit to the ironmongers solved the problem and I

rode home. I did not know whether to marvel at the strange behaviour

of some thieves or be thankful for old-fashioned technology. In any case,

I enjoyed the ride home despite the return of the tempest.

Old-fashioned wheel nuts have their advantages but there is much to

be said for up-to-date technology and high-end components. I recently

put a review of a titanium stem from Torus onto the website. At £135

I began to wonder how many days cycling I could get with food and

overnight stays for a similar amount. Then I considered the benefits of

having a bicycle equipped with components of such high quality and –

something we can all appreciate – beautiful engineering.

In this edition of Seven Day Cyclist we have some big rides, including

one that shows how GPS can definitely beat a map, though perhaps the

trip would not have been so glorious with one. Equally, we can have a

good ride, a long one, too, on a sit-up-and-beg – so we have that, too.

We have the usual authoritative mix of technical and practical guides

and products thoroughly tested, to suit different depths of pocket. If

you do approach a manufacturer or buy a product based on what you

read here, please tell your supplier – and, if you’d like, tell us about what

you think.

Safe travelling

Steve

Seven Day Cyclist Copyright Statement: all material contained in Seven Day Cyclist magazine and on this website, www.sevendaycyclist.co.uk , is protected by copyright. No material may be copied, reproduced or used in any format or medium without express prior written permission from the publishers.

Cover Image, courtesy of Peter Eland

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WELCOME

Contents4 Irish Jig14 Wheeling Down the Western Front – Part 222 Products28 Ride the Ribble34 Rub a Dud Hub38 There’s More to Cycling42 Peak Ambition

50 The Brompton Goes Wild54 Tour de Jour 58 Grease is The Word64 Rebirth of an Authentic Event68 What a Corker72 The Good Old Days74 Rear Rack

CONTRIBUTORS

Kim StoneJohn CampbellPaul WagnerMark Jacobson PRODUCT TESTS AND TECHNICAL

Michael Stenning

EDITOR

Stephen Dyster

DESIGN

Colin Halliday

CONTACTS

See details on www.sevendaycyclist.co .uk

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The stunning Antrim coastal road

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DAY ONEMonths of deliberating over my chosen destination, weeks of detailed route planning and organising travel itineraries, only to find me at Troon sea front, the departure point to Larne and my gateway to Ireland, laughing dismissively at myself as I notice an important omission - no water bottles on my bike – they are both still snuggling nicely in my fridge back home. Some man, as they say in Ireland.

An Irish Jig, Part OneJohn Campbell went for a wee run round Antrim and Donegal

A few enquiries to the availability of a bike shop, some expert directions and I was soon in the Bicycle Room speaking to the proprietor, Alan, and before long was the proud new owner of two water bottles, which he very kindly filled with water. Not a glorious start, but as Alan pointed out, if that’s the worst that happens on my trip I’ll be having a good one.

P&O Ferries operate a fast link ferry on the Troon-Larne route, journey time a mere two hours punctuated by the a close up view of Ailsa Craig, a well-known, but usually distant, landmark in the Firth of Clyde, and sunbathing on the observation desk.

Within minutes of disembarking, I am on the old shore road, at the entrance to Larne Lough, staring up at the 92 foot high Chaine memorial tower, built in 1888 to commemorate James Chaine, who represented the County in Parliament, from 1874 to 1885. Not many

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politicians these days get, nor deserve, a memorial. Let’s assume James earned it as it’s a grand structure.

THE GIRO, MARCONI AND THE TALE OF A GIANTThe Giro D’ Italia started in Ireland in 2014 and much of my route today followed what was Stage 2. Despite the peloton having stampeded through almost a month before, evidence of the race, and how much the Irish embraced it, is still obvious as I begin my cycle along the Antrim coast. There are more pink bikes than in a well-known toy superstore (some of which are brilliantly placed on rocky islands out in the lough), pink houses Barbie would be proud to own, not to mention donkeys, gnomes, walls and even a stone elephant fully decked out in pink.

Today there are no crowds or peloton, just a blissful road, delightful scenery and things of interest aplenty as I meander on my way. Ireland’s sense of humour

belongs to its roads as well – letting the big man almost convince himself that all roads on this land were pan flat, my first hill coming after 36 miles by which time I had cycled through Ballygally, with it’s terrific white sandy beach and Ballygally Castle, the oldest occupied (now a hotel) building in Ireland, travelled onto Glenarm where the view in land up river along the perimeter walls of Glenarm Gardens and Castle is a stunner and the best of the trio Carnlough, it’s impressive breakwater and clock tower making a nice spot to watch the boats gently bob in the current. That the sea is not always so compliant is confirmed by the plaque on the nearby lifeboat’s building commemorating those lost on the 26/11/05 when the S.S. Peridot broke up in a storm.

Entering Cushendall my eyes were drawn to the impressive looking red sand stone tower, apparently originally built as a place of confinement for idlers and rioters – must have been a quiet place back in the

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Charming little Carnlough Cobleland

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day, unless it was thirty to a room, as the tower’s dimensions are by no means generous. Something that cannot be said of the mural just up the street, taking up the full gable end of a house, depicting 100 years of the local Gaelic athletic club – easily missed as it’s behind as you cycle out of town.

This brings me back to 36 miles of cycling; when, for the first tim,e the road takes me inland, an extended climb begins from sea level up through the mixed wood of Ballypatrick Forest; nice to see native trees and not the pine tree plantations so prevalent today. Out of the forest onto a long stretch of moorland, panoramic views back towards the sea just reward for the climb.

Soon enough the height gained is lost (a pattern to be repeated a hundred times as my jig evolved) as I hurtled downhill towards Ballycastle, almost missing the signposted Bonamargy Friary, founded around 1500 and in good order, the walled entrance and wild grasses helping to give it a sense of age.

Ballycastle buzzes with activity, the smart sea front park thronged with folk enjoying the good weather. I joined them wandering between the illustration boards depicting an earlier generation of hardship, horse and carts, dirt tracks for roads and the threat of hunger ever present. However, not all was bad news, as here in 1898, Marconi made his first successful radio transmission between Ballycastle and Rathlin Island, some miles off shore but clearly visible today. A memorial stone to his achievement sits in the car park up near the Rathlin

The Chaine Memorial, Larne

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ferry service car park.The steep climb out of Ballycastle on the B15 (passing

another more modern Marconi plaque) took me onwards to the much lauded Carrickarede island rope bridge where, having paid for the privilege you can walk across the rope bride strung 75 feet above the sea. I contented myself with a photograph from afar, my focus now turning more on a giant’s work, not that of mere ordinary men.

As I rolled up at the Giant’s Causeyway the attendant announced that he, too, was a cyclist and we went at it – my planned route, his knowledge, my bike, his bike you get the picture. If I didn’t want to go through the exhibition hall, nor take a talking guide handset, which I didn’t, and save myself some money, which I did (we Scots have a reputation to maintain) he suggested chaining up the bike and walking over the grassed roof of the exhibition and down the walkway to where the Giant’s work is evident. I thanked him and off I went.

The myth and legend has it, the Causeway was carved by the mighty giant, Finn McCool, who left behind an ancient home full of folklore. The science is the 40,000 interlocking basalt columns is the result of intense volcanic and geological activity – an epic 60 million year old legacy to the cooling and shrinking of lava flows. I much prefer the myth and legend, but either way, it’s not hard to understand why this is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

OF WHISKEY AND A TEMPLE GOING DOWNHILLBack on the A2, and the pungent odour of Angel’s share hung in the air, better than any map, guided me straight to the Old Bushmills Distillery, where whiskey has been distilled legally since 1608, making it the oldest licit distillery in the world. Once more I find myself wishing I liked whiskey, with or without the e, as I do so admire the traditions and history behind the golden nectar and their distilleries.

Castles: the history, toil and, unfortunately in most

Why route planning may be advantageous

Lets celebrate...

The myth and legend has it, the

Causeway was carved by the mighty giant, Finn McCool, who left behind an ancient home full of folklore. The science is the 40,000 interlocking basalt columns are the result of intense volcanic and geological activity – an epic 60 million year old legacy to the cooling and shrinking of lava flows.

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Downhill Palace, last occupied during WWII

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cases, the conflict interwoven into their very walls stir a passionate interest in me, none more so than the precarious ruins of Dunlace Castle, thought to be built between the 15th and 17th Century. Perched high on the cliffs above the sea, I pedalled up the entrance road, and the full grandeur of the castle became evident the closer I got. Like I say, I’m a bit of a Castle nerd and this must be one of the best I have had the pleasure to sit beside.

Beyond Dunluce Castle is Portrush. Despite many years away from the game, the importance of Portrush golf course and its imposing clubhouse, are not lost on me as I enjoy the fast descent into the town. However, the typical sea side resort ‘attractions’ see me head straight out of town, onto the A29 southwards towards Coleraine.

Taking no chances of a repeat of the souvenirs and arcadesof Portrush, I chose to by-pass Coleraine’s town centre, taking the ring road over the mighty River Bann, rejoining the A2 west of the town, pedalling towards the Downhill Palace and Mussenden Temple.

Stopping at the palace gates with two imposing lion structures, I stroll across the grass to the ruins of Downhill Palace. Built in 1780, the grand frontage and outer walls remain in a remarkable state of repair, especially when you consider it was last occupied by troops billeted during WWII. Much of the thanks for this must go to The National Trust.

Round the back of the palace and down the hill is Mussenden Temple on the cliff edge. Built in 1785,

this domed rotunda looks in even more remarkable condition and the inscription around its top appears to have been composed by a land lover:-

‘It is agreeable to watch from land, someone who else is involved in a great struggle while winds whip up the waves out at sea’

With nothing more than a dramatic downhill descent to the nearby village of Downhill (newsflash: hours of deliberation at the council office for a suitable village name comes up trumps) and onwards to Benone, my chosen camping spot. My first day on Ireland had been a memorable one.

DAY TWODONEGAL TIME; MONSOON TIMEA leisurely pedal along Magillian point, made unattractive by both the military firing range and prison, has a redeeming feature at the road end – not the Point Bar, though in different circumstances this might qualify - a Martello tower, built during the Napoleonic wars . Reading its history and a look at the intriguing picture of how a gun turret was added during the WWII, but since removed, whiled away time as I waited for the ferry to Greencastle.

Enquiring of a lady on dog walking duties as to the accuracy of the timetable, she looked me in the eye and said ‘Son if you’re heading over the water there’s something you need to be realising. Over there it’s Donegal time, the ferry will be, when it’s good and

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the Inishowen Peninsula.Immediately the difference to the Antrim coast is

palpable. Less excitable, slower paced and the places of interest though still well signposted, appear less needy of your attendance - commercialism has yet to dominate the quaint it would seem.

Guinness is more Irish than Ireland, and in the next village of Glenelly I stopped to take a picture of a fetching old style Guinness mural, painted on a pub wall, with a farmer walking along pushing his cart, in which sits his horse, and the slogan “Guinness gives you strength” emblazoned across it. Mental note to self at the time – best check that slogan is accurate at a later date.

The monsoon continued.

GOLDEN WEDDINGAt Culdaff a mysterious looking memorial takes pride of place. A first for me, and I wonder if any Seven Day Cyclist readers have seen anything similar? A gift to a village on the occasion of a golden wedding – in this case a green iron cast hand pump under a wooden roof. The sign above the pump declaring it was presented to the village of Culdaff by Mr and Mrs Young as a memorial of their Golden Wedding 1908.

Worthy of mention at this point is the Irish compulsion for signposting every puddle/stream/ burn as a river and every road, no matter how far removed it would seem from the traditional definition of one. The L5241, situated off the R238 between Culdaff and Malin, is a more extreme example of what can be experienced in these parts. Even so, be wary of your route planning and consider a Google map check before you leave home just in case.

A winner, in the past, of a national award in the best maintained village, pausing in Malin is a worthy cause. The flower-fringed, grassy diamond is picturesque, the arched bridge spanning the estuary outstanding, the natives friendly, and it would prove to be, the only place I would see a green and cream old style telephone box on my trip. To cap its appeal the village is endowed with a number of suitable places for sustenance. A fine little place, made all the better by the adjacent and vivid (even in such dismal conditions) Trawbreagh Bay, which comes into full view as the road hugs the coast before heading inland to Ireland’s most northerly point.

It really wasn’t a day to be at Malin Head. Visibility was poor in the extreme, the full might of the Atlantic wind made standing, or walking, a distinct challenge and with the ruined Napoleonic signal tower let down by

Golden wedding present at Culdaff

ready, so don’t be fretting now!’The ferry finally appeared right enough, only late

if G.M.T. is your master. Donegal time would be fine by me, though I was not so sure about the monsoon that welcomed me to the land of the Euro. Run-down looking Greencastle, followed by the more upbeat Moville, are both part of the area collectively known as

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Drymen green

Mamore switchbacks in all their glory

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modern material patch ups, my stay was a brief one.With the weather gods in your favour, you may come

this way and be suitably enamoured and take time to discover the numerous little paths I could see out on the headland.

Personally, a traditional thatched cottage just before the Head and the basking shark mural on the Malin Head Community Centre wall, were compensation, as I retraced my way back to Malin, before taking final leave, veering off the R238 and over the afore-mentioned estuary bridge towards Carndonagh.

The monsoon continued.

CROSSES, ST CAFFIENE OF BALLYLIFFIN AND THE ROAD TO RUIN ON THE WAY TO THE FORTCardonagh is a little more populated, and busy, in comparison to all of villages passed through this morning and would have been swiftly forgotten, such is it’s drabness, had it not been for the 7th Century Donagh Cross and it’s two smaller pillar stones, situated on the gradient out on the R238.

I walked into the café in the next village, Ballyliffin, under the pretence of buying a coffee, when in actual fact it was more a tactic to escape the rain for a brief interlude. But I got more than I could possibly have expected.

Ireland is, after all, a country of miracles. Sitting sipping my coffee, having first apologised to the owner for scattering my wet apparel over most of the adjoining seats and dripping puddles all over his nicely polished floor, there was an occurrence. St. Caffeine of Ballyliffin was amongst us and brought forth a miracle.

Six hours of incessant rain, thunder, lighting and flooding the likes of which I have never cycled in before (which is some admission from someone who lives in the capital of rain) just stopped. The sun edged its way out. I proclaimed his coffee miraculous and asked for another just to be on the safe side. He looked worriedly at me – I could hear him silently diagnosing my condition - water to the brain.

A handful of miles beyond Ballyliffin, in miraculously bright sunshine, the road to ruin, or, to give its proper title, the Mamore Gap, looked down on me. Nothing prepares you for this road. I’d read of its steep switchbacks, of its incessant gradient, but, rather smugly, having reconciled myself with the fact of not having needed to walk a bike up a hill for many a long year, I’d shrugged it off. Foolish man.

I hit the hill at speed and ground to a halt. Walking is good for you and this walk offered great views across Lough Swilly. Within yards of the summit are two shrines and its associated well. The well a good excuse for me to stop and get my heart tucked back in under my ribs.

Onto the brow of the hill, back on the bike, plummeting down the other side, it was not long before the delightful little single track road signposted me all the way into the heavily armed Fort Dunree, the final few hundred yards a steep but brief climb past the shop, depositing me at the fort entrance.

The fort, now a museum, perched on a headland overlooking Lough Swilly was built in 1798, beginning life as a tower, then later greatly enlarged to counter the threat of French invasion. Adjacent to the fort are four enormous red painted cannons and a smaller, green

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Delightful Trawabreaga Bay

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little more than a mile detour off the R238 route? It gave me the opportunity to sit on the causeway wall in isolation, stuff my face, watch a mallard and her new brood of young work the marginal weed on the small lough. It also afforded me a vision of my immediate future; the climb towards the hugely impressive Grian Ailigh, which, even from a distance of some five or six miles away, dominates the hilltop.

Let’s be honest the climb, especially the initial section from the N13, is brutal but eminently cycle-able, and it’s worth every bucket of sweat accrued to make the summit.

The huge circular stone structure, the only remaining terraced fort in Ireland, is believed to have been built as a pagan temple around 5BC, and restored in 1870 after having been damaged in the 12th century by the King of Ulster is more than reward in itself. Yet from this magnificent vantage point there are also stunning views in all directions. As I reflected on my good fortune, I also selfishly thanked the Council for withdrawing funding for the Lough Swilly ferry.

GOING THROUGH THE MILLGrian Ailigh behind me, it was time to settle into a rhythm along the N13 towards Letterkenny. Arriving

one, all of which add to the Fort’s menace.Just as my time at the fort was ending a fellow

touring cyclist, from Poland, trundled in complaining of the hill he’d just walked over – the road to ruin claims another victim.

ROLLING THROUGH BUNCRANABy way of recompense, after the Mamore Gap, the quiet roads from Dunree to Buncrana have no major climbs, nor much in the way of traffic. Soon enough I am treated to a magically long descent into Buncrana, the largest town in Inishowen and bustling on this late Saturday afternoon.

My original route outline would have had me leaving Buncrana by ferry, across Lough Swilly to Rathmullan to continue around the Fanad Peninsula. However, only a handful of weeks prior to my departure, the ferry closed when the local Council withdrew funding. There was no alternative but to alter my route. I carried on southwards.

Unless you have a pressing desire to stop at Buncrana, may I suggest you keep going for a few miles and have your interlude at the tiny hamlet of Fanad, and enjoy the Fahan Mura Cross Slab, and then follow the signs for Inch Island, a wild fowl reserve which is

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additional info: TRAVEL

ScotrailScottish Train Service. Troon is served by trains from Glasgow and Edinburgh and Ayr and Kilmarnock. Frequent service.

Bikes are carried free. NO need to book on these particular routes.

www.scotrail.co.uk

P & O FerriesTroon – Larne A journey of just over 2 hours by fast track ferry. 2 ferries daily, each way.

0870 242 4777

Bikes are carried free

£61.00 return.

in Donegal’s largest town I didn’t expect, nor get, a picturesque place. It’s like any other large urban sprawl with a bewildering choice of shops and large retail parks. I was happy to stop for water then move on, passing the tidy little Gaelic football ground on the way to Newmills. The village takes its name from the well-preserved whitewashed corn and flax mill, complete with lade and large wheel.

Newmills, indicated a change in direction.I headed northwards into rural Donegal. Sustained gains in height were perceptible without ever being too taxing, bar the approach to Church Hill. There the extra gain in height was immediately relinquished as I arrived on the beautiful shoreline of Lough Gartan. Nearing my final destination of the day, I met my old shrine acquaintance from the Gap, St. Columba or Colmcille, a saint of huge

importance in Donegal (and far beyond), making him omnipresent in these parts.

St. Colmcille Abbey and Cross is well signposted, be warned

www.poferries.com

Lough Foyle Ferries

Service between Magilligan Point – Greencastle

www.loughfoyleferry.com for timetable - but remember to factor in Donegal time!

£2.50 or 3 Euro, each way.

Although, I only had a cursory enquiry of my passport on the crossing, I would recommend you take yours with you.

SHOPSThroughout this route I never seemed to be far away from some sort of shop. Getting water and food on the route proved simple enough. Almost every petrol station has a shop, and in every town or village there was at least a small grocers/newsagent and in many, supermarkets and a wide range of shops.

Lough Garten, north of Church Hill

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though, more climbing is required to reach it. Indeed, the pattern is ingrained in my pysche. In Ireland, where need dictates that structures dominate the surrounding land, you can be sure if you wish a close up view, you’ll almost certainly be dragging yourself and your bike up a hill to get there.

Though small in stature, the little ruins of the Abbey keep my interest and a memorial stone erected and inscribed: Colmcille 1400 – June 9th 1997 was unveiled by her excellency Mary Robinson President of Ireland on June 7th 1997. It is, coincidentally, seventeen years ago to the day I now stand beside it.

Back on the bike, and little more than a few miles up the road, my opportunity to wild camp arises when investigation of a little track leads me to a small secluded wood. Bliss. SDC

Remember you will need both Sterling and Euro.

IRISH HOSPITALITYIt is often said Ireland is a friendly place. I’ll vouch for that. Everyone I spoke to was so warm, friendly, seemed genuinely interested in my plans and were more than willing to share the craic with me. Return the love.

WHERE TO STAYYour personal choice will dictate the shape of your tour. Like the shops, there were endless opportunties to stay in hotels and B&Bs’, though official camp sites were few and far between.

With a multitude of Irish travel websites and the old faithful Google at your disposal, a few nights on the computer should enable you to find what you need.

Here are my choices:-

Night OneI stayed at the Golden Sands Camping and Caravan Park at Benone, approx. five miles from Magilligan Point.

Toilets and two shops. £8 sterling per night (plus a £2 refundable deposit for a key to the toilet block and 20p extra per shower)

Phone number 028 777 50324.

I didn’t book and was the only person camping in what is an enormous area set aside for camping.

Night Two

Wild camping is not permitted as openly as it is in, say, Scotland. However, as always, using discretion and making sure you leave no trace makes wild camping possible. Night two was spent in a secluded wood only yards off the road, a few miles beyond Church Hill.

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Having taken a day and a half to get from London to Nieuwpoort, at the northern end of the Western Front – Stephen Dyster and

his ‘brick’ (aka Helen, Andrea and Andy) turn south along the IJzer front

Wheeling Down the Western Front

Pedestrians and cyclists in holiday mood thronged the shared path by the IJzer as we turned inland to head for Ieper (Ypres). Fortunately those “Bloody Belgians”, generally believed

by some Brits to be unable to do anything in a straightforward or competent way, have the good sense to make their cycle routes generously wide where volume of use is likely to be high.

It is worth noting that use of cycle paths when present along the roadside is required by law. It does not matter which side of the road it is on or the direction of travel, unless indicated so. We were hailed, in very polite English, on one occasion, with a gentle

Part Two : Nieuwpoort to Arras

reminder that “there is a cycle lane over there … the other side of the road.” The voice of the lady driver was surprised – by our ignorance - and helpful rather than angry and aggressive.

Pressing on past the goose-foot locks – the King Albert Memorial is under repair, though there is a British memorial to the missing of this sector, including those who lost their lives to the north around ports such as Zeebrugge – this was where the sea met the Western Front. The extreme northern end of the line was not left in the hands, solely, of the Belgians. There were British and French troops here, too. Apparently, the two allies did not trust the Belgian’s as King Albert was married to a German. Good job the British Royal Family changed

The goose-foot locks still hold the water at bay

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its name from Saxe-Coburg-Gotha or the alliance might have been in real trouble. The locks are a magnificent; the power of the water, the strength of the gates, the havoc that would be wreaked should they fail is all impressive.

Close by is a memorial to the British and Commonwealth troops who were killed in this sector but have no known grave elsewhere. There may well be a grave, but it will be marked as that of a soldier of the Great War known unto God. Tiny by comparison to its counterparts at Ieper and Thiepval, it is much less visited.

A HILLThere is a cycle path that cuts a corner off the IJzer as it wends its way to Diksmuide, but the route card ignored this – presumably because the prevalence of the narrow-tyred Light Brigade of cyclists. A sense of good order kept the Heavy Brigade on the correct route, too. The IJzer slides sluggishly, heavy with the water of Flanders, broad and quiet, amidst pastures and meadows. A few Belgian war cemeteries and the preserved Trench of Death interrupted to remind us that there was ferocious fighting here, especially in the early months of the war.

After a burst of heavy traffic near the bridge over the IJzer at Diksmuide, the “brick” gained speed on the main road to Ieper. One of the harder to spot directions took us back to minor roads to visit Langemarke German Military Cemetery. A small hill followed,

Memorial to missing British and Empire servicemen, on the banls of the IJzer

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Cyclists amongst the many on the Menin Gate

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Pilckem Ridge, the rim of the saucer in which the small city of Ieper sits, before passing Cement House CWG Cemetery and a rare freewheel to the Ieper-IJzer canal at Boezinge.

Here is where riding a bicycle comes into its own as a tool for understanding the fighting and the desperate situation the Allies often found themselves in. Pilckem Ridge is barely noticeable. The legs push a little harder and subconsciously the brain notes that there is an ascent, but were it not for the miles of flat roads already traversed it would not excite much attention. Yet it was this low ridge that semi-encircles the ancient city of Ypern, Ypres or Ieper, that had been captured by the Germans. Withdrawal from the city was unthinkable as it would open up the whole coast of Flanders and north-east France. Ride around the quiet countryside and you’ll see how hard it would have been to establish a defensive line; bomb along in the car and you’ll notice little.

The canal towpath runs past the famous canal-side dugouts where surgeon John McRae wrote “In Flanders fields the poppies grow…” and lies the grave of young Joe Strudwick, aged fifteen, the youngest English soldier to be killed. He should, of course, not have been there. Should the rest? Good question. That evening, after setting the tone for the tour by arriving late at the hostel, failing to find the expected beds and rushing off for dinner, we started to get an answer.

FOOD FOR THOUGHTIt has often been said that the Great War should not have started, but that when it did it was absolutely understandable that the UK and its Empire would get involved. Andy Robertshaw, eminent military historian, archaeologist and broadcaster had joined the trip. He made a thought provoking comparison; in 1914 Britain went to war to preserve Belgian independence and in 1918 Belgium was free; in 1939 Britain went to war to

preserve Poland’s independence and in 1945 Poland was free form Nazism but in the hands of the Soviet Union. In other words, the armies of 1914-18 achieved what they were asked to do, yet the popular perception of the war is one of an absolute disaster.

Throughout the tour these “en route” talks and evening briefings became a fascinating feature – another benefit of an “organised tour.” There are many more complexities to the Great War than are held in the popular imagination. Whilst aware of the products of

Cyclist rehydrating with magical brown

fluid, Ieper

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The Menin Gate at midnight

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recent historical research and thought, having the miles in the saddle pass whilst thinking through the words of an expert was most enjoyable, sometimes perplexing. Nor, by the way, does it underestimate the death toll or play-down the sacrifice of so many young lives; it puts them in context and gives them meaning. Soldiers returning in 1918 did so as heroes who had won the war and Sir Douglas Haig was venerated as the man who had lead the army to victory.

For me, this ride was as much about honouring those

who came home and got on with life in the tough twenties and thirties as it was about the sacrifice of those who gave their lives for their country.

As the bugles of the daily Menin Gate ceremony faded and we headed for refreshments in the grand market place I reflected by what small margins had some lived and some died. Yet, Belgian beer is good and we were happy. We walked back up to the Menin Gate as the carillion chimed midnight.

It turned out that our dorm spaces had been

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mixed up. In the dark we searched for a room with beds and finding a dorm with two empty bunks amongst the snoozing cyclists, we did our best to settle in without waking them. In the dark it was impossible to find the bedding. The hostel deals mainly with schools and has plastic under sheets. A hot day, a room full of sleeping men – fortunately not snorers – and I was lying on a plastic sheet. A thoroughly uncomfortable night, but, at least I did not wake everyone up and I was in time for breakfast.

A DAY IN SEPIAWhilst fetching the bikes form the hostel gardens the rain began to fall just in time to be off. It set the tone for the morning. Despite being reminded that the Great War did not happen in monochrome nor in a constant drizzle, for a drag across Messines Ridge, the flatlands of the Lens battlefields and final run up and over Vimy Ridge dull, dreary, monochrome weather seemed the perfect accompaniment.

The area around Ieper is peppered with cemeteries and Great War sites. One cannot visit all, even on a sixty-mile day. Equally, “cemetery” tourism has a morbid side and is not something I like to do. Yet there are new memorials erected and ones never before visited. After a talk at the Pool of Peace – the crater left by one of the mines blown by the British in 1917, at Spanbroekmoelen – we ran down and up the Messines ridge and spent some time at the Irish Peace Park. The group contained several cyclists of Irish origin. Their reflections on the establishment of the memorial and on the Irish soldiers who fought in the British army at the same time as

some of their countrymen were fighting the British in Ireland gave further food for thought.

Beyond Messines the country is flat, workaday and increasingly industrialised. As the constant drizzle descended on us from above and the mud on the country lanes spattered us from below, there was little banter and chat. The memorials and cemeteries kept coming – including the famous football bedecked cross that marks the informal Christmas Day Truce of 1914 – at odds with the fields of beets and vegetables that faded into the mist.

ON THE FLATEasy cycling through drizzle-soaked, workaday agricultural lands at odds with the work of killing a nearly a hundred years ago felt rather oppressive. Whilst the British tend to head for Ieper and the Somme, this soil attracts the Australians. Fromelles has a new visitor centre, built following an excavation of a nearby wood and the building of a new cemetery. Andy Robertshaw had been involved in this excavation, so another fascinating talk held our attention.

In a farming area where the soil is such a prominent feature, the new complexity to contemplation of cycling was this; this area is now strongly identified with the Australian soldiers who fought and died here, but there were other nationalities, too, and many of their sons never returned from here either. Is it understandable that a nation should want to claim soil sacred to its dead? Of course, but how much should this be tempered by the historical truth that others fought and died here too? All nations want to remember the part their sons played and, at Fromelles, the Australian

More cyclists amongst the many, Messines CWG Cemetery

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Indian cemetery, Neuve Chappelle

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government had stumped up a good deal of cash to support the search in the woods. For “colonies” the events of the Great War were seminal moment in the building of new nations.

We stopped in a café for hot coffee and a quick warm up, then passed through the semi-industrialised, semi-decayed area around Lens. The route design was very good, with little use of main roads as we made good progress amongst the business units and slag heaps. It was one of those bits that would never attract the touring cyclist if they were not bent on reaching a special objective.

THE CREATION OF CANADAThe objective in question was Vimy Ridge, where Andy Robertshaw was giving another talk. The Heavy Brigade fell a little behind time and made the decision to go at the ascent as individuals. As the climb began I

dropped the Pashley into first and went at it. The initial steepness soon gave out and it was into second as the road curved round toward the giant memorial depicting Mother Canada mourning her dead, at the same time revealing the importance of the capture of the ridge as the view over industrial northern France, then occupied territory, was displayed. The capture of Vimy Ridge was a huge blow to the German army.

It was the first time the Canadians had fought as a single division; men who went to war as immigrants to Canada, many still regarding themselves and Scots, English, Welsh, Irish, fought as Canadians and their memory and the collective pride their achievement lead to helped to forge the Canadian nation.

Though I say it myself, my ascent was nifty, and I arrived just as the talk was commencing. As ever, Andy Robertshaw provided food for thought. He told the serving soldiers that they would not have recognised the tactics of 1914, but they would have been familiar with those of 1917 when Vimy Ridge was captured. Once again, he put the Canadian desire to make this a site sacred to Canada in the context of British and other forces which operated in the immediate area. Then the Canadian guides showed us around the underground tunnels along which men and ammunition were brought up to the front line where the trenches were sometime only fifty yards apart.

Later on, leaving the memorial, we left the woods and rolled down the hill towards Arras. At last the sun had come out. The plain of the morning had gone; the gentle hills rolled on. Ripening cereals made a patchwork with the woods. The downcast oppression of dirty roads in the wet clay-lands which remain the only grave of so many, lifted. The heart of Artois offered a change of scenery, though not, of course, an escape from the Great War.

A MOONLIT NIGHTWe spent the late evening in the grand market square in Arras, rehydrating. Away across the square, with a harvest moon rising in the clear blue evening sky, stood the magnificent city hall; a floodlit monument to the prosperity of this region since the middle-ages that speaks of permanence and the wealth of peacetime commerce in agricultural produce and cloth. Only, it is, of course, a replica rebuild. Three-quarters of the town required rebuilding after 1918.

With that sombre thought to end a contemplative sixty-mile day, we leave the Pashley and its rider to sleep off their rehydration. Next time; a short day on the Somme and journey’s end. SDC

Pashley dwarfed by the stupendous memorial

on Vimy Ridge

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InformationThe ride was organised by Green Jersey French Cycle Tours on behalf of ABF The Soldiers’ Charity.

The vast majority of the route can be found on Michelin 1 : 200 000 sheet 236, but having a route card as a guide through the urban strip to the west of Lens was very useful.

Battlefields tourism is big business, though, there is much more to the areas we cycled through it will always be a major draw. Any tourist information centre will have information on sites and tours. Many would be easy to follow by bicycle and by doing so you’ll get a much better feel for the terrain over which the fighting took place.

Christmas Day memorial

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Issue 4 / 201522

TESTING TIMES

Dualco Mini Grease Gun £12.99 (337g*)

Dualco mini grease gun is an excellent choice for generic workshop duties, though bikes in particular. Made in the good ol’ US of A, an

aluminium alloy body and cast cap are welcome surprises at this price point, resisting everyday carelessness and my farm cat’s palpable contempt with notable nonchalance.

It’s what’s commonly known as a “vacuum primed” design, where grease is injected into the nozzle via an internal slider. Mechanically simple and therefore, extremely low maintenance. Alas any air within the system will at best interrupt, or more likely curtail flow, so needs careful purging during the filling stage.

This isn’t particularly complex or laborious but nonetheless requires technique. Unscrew the base and squeeze your chosen lubricant from its tube or, in the case of tubs, decant using a clean stick/spatula of some description. Either way, maximum capacity is around 80ml.

Refit the cap loosely, slacken the nozzle’s bolts and then insert a flat bladed screwdriver into the base slot, pushing upwards. Now wind the cap fully home, snug down those bolts and pump the thumb trigger-it may require several before coming on stream but things are running correctly when a consistent, controllable 5ccs is released.

This is a nice amount for efficient repacking of hub, headset and old fashioned cup ‘n’ cone bottom brackets without proving inconvenient for detailed jobs such as chain-ring/stem bolts, quick release skewers and mudguard, carrier/bottle screws etc.

Alternative/replacement nozzles are readily available, enabling easy alternating between broad and precision beads-perfect when performing complete overhauls or frame-up builds.

However, given the ubiquity of rubberised and sensitive composite components on modern bikes/groupsets, its best to choose sympathetic, neutral grease, although wallet friendly pricing means you could buy two – one packing space age polymers, the other more generic Teflon based stuff. Michael StenningVerdict: Great value, super durable grease gun, though initial set up can require patience.*figure includes 80ml of Teflon grease-not supplied.www.ison-distribution.com

Finish Line Grease Injection Pump Gun £19.95 (68g)

Finish line grease injection pump gun is the lovechild resultant from a passionate tryst between biro and syringe. Superficially

similar to a tsunami of similar units, the devil is very much in the detailing, which will delight some and alienate others.

All take the mess out of maintenance, minimising waste, cross contamination and those incriminating finger prints on fridges and light switches. Continuing this narrative, it accepts standard 9/16, 60 or 100ml tubes (though smaller nozzles can be converted using a 9/16 screw, bolt and two rubber o rings).

Simply remove the cap from your chosen elixir, trim and pierce as appropriate before feeding clockwise into the gun’s anodised aluminium sump-squeezing the guesting tube to expel any residual air. Failure to perform this subtle move first time round induced a heady mix of frustration and mirth. Now rest it between your index and middle fingers;

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TESTING TIMES

KMC Z1X 1/8 Inox Chain £19.99

Commanding the lion’s share of £20 and weighing in at 442g, KMCZ1X Inox chain should

be more than mighty enough for the most miserable British winters, thus an obvious choice for fixed/single speed and some internal gear drivetrains. That said; it’s not completely maintenance free and there’s a persuasive argument favouring less exotica and more frequent maintenance on hack bikes.

In common with most these days, its bushing-less, which are quieter and cleaner running, allowing better

lubricant flow, simultaneously using it to flush away dirt, grit and similar contaminant. Now, some will feel short changed upon discovering only the outer components are stainless steel. Rollers and pins still need little n’ often drizzlings of seasonally appropriate lubricant.

aim at intended recipient(s) while depressing the thumb trigger…

Doing so dispenses a very modest 2cc of lubricant per prod, removing any risk of over-packing, which can in fact increase friction in bearings, or indeed seal damage (especially using the buttery lithium or PTFE based preps). Perfect for intricate stuff such as bottle, mudguard/carrier/cleat screws; stem/seatpost binder bolts and pedal bearings.

However, the tip and therefore flow isn’t adjustable, so somewhat pedestrian when repacking headsets or installing cartridge bearing bottom brackets with super stiff marine or ceramic polymers. Despite some initial doubt, lightweight composites have resisted accidental (and quite sharp) drops onto concrete and tiled flooring with no obvious scarring and its aluminium section sports a cutaway for convenient tool board parking.

Michael StenningVerdict: Excellent for precision jobs but less versatile than generic designs.www.madison.co.uk

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Since we’re on the subject, satin finishes are technically superior to mirror effects given less metal is removed during polishing. 112 links should cater for most solos, although half-link designs overcome tensioning headaches where eccentric bottom brackets aren’t necessarily appropriate/cost effective (road/mountain bike conversions employing vertical frame ends being prime examples).

Magic links are another polarising feature-some love their convenience, citing effortless removal come time that demonic sludgy mess of congealed lube, salt, slush and indeed trail spatter needs full-blown solvent bath exorcism. However, experience suggests any weakness is unwelcome when touring or riding single brake fixer builds in stop-start traffic/hillier regions, so I joined ours in the traditional way.

Packet fresh, ours was playing nicely with my cyclo-cross inspired winter trainer’s 46 (3/32) x16 (1/8th) configuration in a matter of two minutes and extracted links. Straight cut, as distinct from bevelled sprocket teeth certainly help, although I’m inclined to suggest there’s more to the no-drop technology (where inner plates are elevated slightly) than marketing puff. Things have remained serenely quiet, four weeks and four hundred miles hence.

Additional girth is tempered by superior power transfer – say when pulling away in stop-start traffic or cantering along the climbs. Transmission braking in these contexts inspires similar confidence and corrosion resistance was broadly within expectation, remaining unblemished despite regular exposure to wet coastal roads.

However, pins will still taint and stiffen if low is interpreted as zero maintenance and I was also surprised to see some middleweight, PTFE based lubes seep from the rollers and slide over the outer plates in really waterlogged conditions. This may be connected with the metal’s extremely slippery texture and something I’ve never encountered with nickel and zinc models. Michael StenningVerdict: Refined and extremely durable chain for posher workhorses, though not corrosion proof in the literal sense.www.todayscyclist.co.uk

Revolution Finna Anatomic Women’s ¾ lengths £39.99

Revolution Finna Anatomic ¾ length shorts are a rugged, comfortable set of women-specific three season’s longs with flattering

cut, accurate sizing and very reasonable price-tag. Bridging the gap between shorts and full-winter

tights, these are ideal for when there’s a slight nip in the air but too mild for tights. They’re made from polyester “comfortal” fabric, designed for ease of movement-a boon, especially when hopping from low-slung recumbent to traditional tourer or more leisurely configurations. Articulated knees afford excellent protection from chill and tendonitis, yet extremely conducive to spirited cadences.

Elasticated legs and waist prevent unwelcome migration, or gathering, while flat-lock seams continue this gentle tenure, thus no unsightly tell-tale branding when

Revolution Tune up Pro Chain Tool 339.25g £14.99

Revolution tune up pro chain tool has certainly trumped a few significantly costlier contenders sat on my bench. The term

“universal” begs contradiction; although Edinburgh Bicycles insist it’s suitable for all types, including the latest super skinny eleven speeders.

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Thankfully, this one is made entirely of heat treated steel and nudges a confidence inspiring 340g. Sitting nicely on the tool board, it slips conveniently inside most tool rolls/saddlebags too, thus a practical companion for both weekend and extended tours alike. Durable satin black powder coated finishes not only look sharp but are structurally superior to electroplating (whose process involve acid baths and other corrosive, weakening agents).

Thoughtfully, a spare pin also comes as standard. By definition, all drive pins will eventually fatigue, although this shouldn’t be a regular occurrence and subsequent replacements are available to order. Experience suggests spreader slots are the Achilles’ heel of many designs - there’s been no just cause for alarm here but time will tell. Then of course, we’ve those luxuriously thick, rubberised sleeves adorning body and “propellers” ensuring excellent purchase-even with oily, sweaty hands.

Standards of machining are reassuringly high too, threaded components adjusting with impressive refinement. That said; ours appreciated a drop of Teflon lube to begin with. Size and rigidity take the strain from removal/fitment, cruising through most 5,6,7,8, 9, 10 and 11 speed derailleur fare-simply align within the appropriate slot, wind the handle clockwise, checking periodically to inspect progress. Ours has

been adequate, rather than astounding with industrial looking ½ link 1/8 track and BMX units but standard models posed little problem-a boon for anyone with a fixer or two in their fleet.

Distinctly weathered examples required more persuasion, though haven’t induced bouts of shot-putter-esque grunting, agricultural outpourings or sore digits. Despite very favourable performance to date, my money says this one’s a bargain for busy enthusiasts, not commercial workshops, though should repay its modest investment countless times over. Michael StenningVerdict: Super sturdy, user-friendly chain tool well suited to regular fettling.www.edinburghbicycle.com

it’s time to strip off and hit the shower. Inserts can be another area of contention, since we’re all unique.

In my experience, most safeguard against chafing, though even some household names can feel decidedly fetid, especially in monsoon conditions. These Finna feature a generous Cool Max pad

that flattered my shape, so there wasn’t any self-consciousness when sauntering around stately homes or meeting friends for lunch.

Polyester fibres absorb moisture, using body heat to traffic it outside of the garment, while silver continues the hygienic theme, preventing bacterial growth and keeping things socially acceptable on day rides and weekend tours.

Fabrics have sniggered at the inevitable spills and frisking from thorny foliage, aside from some minor bobbling. This hasn’t worsened in six weeks’ wear and constant machine washing.

Ladies blessed with larger calves may find them a little tight on formative rides but this relaxes with time. Similarly, I found them just a little too toasty in milder conditions, so better suited to late autumn and early spring; although they have winter potential too, worn with longer, waterproof socks. Michael Stenning Verdict: Competitively priced ladies longs with great pad, unrestrictive movement and fit. Sizes: S, M, L, XLwww.edinburghbicycle.com

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TESTING TIMES

Sugru Magic Rubber Long Term Test £12.99 (Pack of eight as tested)

Sugru Magic Rubber has been with us a few years now and I’ve been suitably impressed by its versatility and moreover, longevity in that time.

Available in packs of red, blue, yellow, black and white, it’s a UV stable, weather proof, electro bonding/repair putty taking its name from the Irish word for play. Consistency is close to that of plastercine and can either be removed and reused or permanently set given 12 hours at room temperature-nearer 18 in dry garages/outbuildings.

So then to the science bit; each sachet comprises of squidgy silicone mixed with methyltris (methylethylketoxime) silane and gamma-amino propyl triethoxysilane. In laymen’s terms these ensure the silicone assumes a supple solid. However, packet fresh and until fully cured they are also irritants - those with sensitive skins should don latex or similar gloves to prevent allergic reaction.

Talking of which, observe best before dates, (refrigeration extends their useful life three fold) since ignoring/exceeding these will result in them turning rock hard and therefore useless. Ours have been successfully deployed in a multitude of cycling friendly contexts such as invisible and genuinely waterproof repair of dynamo/high power lighting/computer wires-with no loss of electro-connectivity, silicone wrap-over handlebar brackets, plugging minor holes in chrome plastic mudguards, casings etc.

Modifications have included the paint-defending cable cuff – simply mould around the outer sections where it rests against the paintwork. Leave to set overnight and say good bye to unsightly wear (which

can have structural implications if left unchecked/treated), insulating unused cantilever posts; end caps for mudguard stays anti-slip/damping bumpers on bottle cages, or indeed trialling plastic cable guides on a frame before brazing steel versions in situ.

This season, Sugru have introduced a magnetic sibling. Now, with a 4.5 kilo maximum payload, it’s not going to replace that friendly blacksmith should your rack bust in Belarus (though might just fix an injured top-plate, brake lever clip, cable guide etc, until more permanent repair can be effected) but will ensure more secure tenure for handlebar mounted action cameras, lights and other creature comforts that need quick removal when locking in the street.

Fitting is a little more involved than the wrap, press, smooth technique. Mould half a packet into a conical shape, press against the magnet and then compress atop host(s), smoothing gently for aesthetically pleasing results.

Previous generations are still going strong, despite regular service in extremes of temperature, exposure to salt, grit, detergents and related contaminant, so should repay its investment many times over. Michael StenningVersatile and user-friendly repair putty well suited to cycling applications.www.sugru.comwww.extrauk.co.uk/product/detail/SystemEX/Cranksets/2040/

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TESTING TIMES

Juracycle Short Sleeve Merino Wool Jersey £80 329g (Large)

Made in Turkey from Italian merino wool are the first of many intriguing features of Juracycle short sleeve jersey.

The Sussex marque offer a wealth of long and short sleeve designs with a distinctly continental retro flavour. Ours was red with blue and ecru stripes but there’s also pale, navy and ecru. Talking of which, many manufacturers emblazon their logos across the centre strip but names and other personalisation are readily available at extra cost.

Design and construction are similarly timeless. A lighter tog weight and flat seams means the difference between traditional and now justly fashionable, raglan cuts are pretty academic – I’ve never once felt restricted whether alternating between drops, tops and indeed tri bars, or just reaching behind for a spare bottle or banana.

Pockets follow the traditional three terrace convention, though are surprisingly accommodating of wallets, spare tubes, small maps and indeed GPS/similar mobile mod cons. However, those raised on mid-range polyester fare will find these less supportive.

Mini workshop type multi-tools had a tendency for bounding around like the proverbial playful Labrador puppy, especially over washboard tarmac, or during out of the saddle efforts, but button top closures prevent unwanted ejection.

Sizing is generous - large is generally bang on for me

but while still very flattering, my proportionally shorter torso means medium might’ve been an even better fit. Merino is an extremely soft wool, prized for its softness and technical properties, so I was slightly surprised to find ours feeling uncharacteristically itchy. Thankfully, this sensation passed within minutes and something I attributed to the host packaging.

Cut, colours and tailoring have a second-skin familiarity without necessitating a “Photoshop” physique, morphing chameleon-like between Lycra, Messenger knickers and indeed baggier plus-fours. This has a distinct advantage when meeting friends down the pub for Sunday lunch, doing quick supermarket sweeps or similar errands en route home.

In technical terms its every bit what you’d expect from merino, reacting seamlessly to the wearer’s fluctuations in temperature. Put the hammer down and the fibres react, wicking moisture without the clammy hesitation synonymous with even the best synthetics, so unless coming the proverbial cropper on a stretch of bovine dung, remaining whiff free come day’s end is pretty much guaranteed. Even sans base layer, wool retains warmth should air temperatures dip unexpectedly

Sharp showers proved less traumatic too, drying within 15minutes on most occasions-add another five or so when line drying following tours de Zanussi, mind.Michael Stenning Verdict: Competitively priced retro jersey with some innovative touches.www.juracycleclothing.co.uk

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WIDDALE AND RIBBLEActually, setting out from Hawes so the steady climb up Widdale over to Newby Head to cross the watershed into Ribblesdale had provided a warm up by the time the weather worn citadel of the Settle to Carlisle railway line came into view. The Ribblehead viaduct famously defended in a campaign to keep the line open claims the land for humankind much as a wild-west frontier fort asserted that the cavalry were fully in control.

The Ribble does not gain its name until Ribblehead is reached, though the waters have gathered and the Gayle Beck does a pretty good imitation of a moorland river as the road runs close to it on the

Not the bicycle, the dale and the valley of the River Ribble: Kim Stone rode downstream from Ribblehead to Preston

riding theribble

way to Ribblehead from Newby Head. On no account should this section of road be left out of a ride down Ribblesdale. A long, descent from Newby Head on a good surface with a sparkling stream as a companion guiding one to wider and wider views of Pen-y-Ghent is not to be missed. It helped more than a little, perhaps, that the drizzle of Widdale had given way to the sun-rays of Ribblesdale.

There was a major walking event taking place on the Three Peaks route, so a temporary village of campervans and tents huddled at the roadside where the path leaves the road for the viaduct. The few people in the scene vanish in the vast landscape. And the road

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make a fine route from or to Hawes, dependent on how long one has to take. The Yorkshire Dale has many, many fine bridleways which can be followed on a bicycle using either the 1:50 000 or 1: 25000 OS maps. There’ll be a strong element of exploration and one should take especial care of this sensitive environment as well as of oneself. There’ll be times when you will be carrying the bike.

Horton has several places to refresh and a village shop at which to restock re-stock the saddlebag. Often busy, it is the main settlement of upper Ribblesdale, thronged with walkers, cyclists, sight-seers many of whom seek accommodation in the various bed and

Ribblehead viaduct

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rolled past with glimpses of Ingleborough behind Park Fell and Simon Fell.

To follow the River Ribble a turn onto the B6479 takes one away from the scar-ridden hills that flank the River Doe on its way to Ingleton and along a gentler valley. Despite this, a quick look at the map shows an array of potholes and lines of limestone scars, though it is the familiar stepped peak of Pen-y-Gent that takes the view from the road until Horton-in-Ribblesdale is passed.

HORTON AND SETTLEOne day I will follow the Pennine Bridleway. This comes down from the hills at Horton. This would

The Dales recede, on the road south of Settle

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Café culture in Settle

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breakfasts and at the campsite. If you are planning to stay, it is, in my experience, sensible to phone ahead. There is a railway station and you can take your bike on the train – if there is space, and there is not always room.

The going around Horton is fairly easy, though proceeding in a southerly direct one is given a sharp reminder that this is a hilly area when a quick rear up and a tumbling descent stick their noses in just between Helwith Bridge and Stainforth. The views remain very good though the Ribble becomes less companionable on the approach of the Settle-Giggleswick conurbation as the road pulls away before running down into the pretty town centre of the main market town of Ribblesdale.

A cobbled market square surrounded by sturdy stone buildings that hark back to bygone years of markets and industry whilst catering for the modern day visitor and resident, the whole is backed on the east by the steep-sided hills that bar the way to Malham to those who dislike a climb that is amongst the stiffest of the stiff. A group of cyclists studied maps by the market cross. Three pointed towards Malham, four at the way I had come from Horton. Democracy triumphed.

As a solo cyclist my decision on which café to refuel at could be taken without such convoluted processes. It was made simple by the fact that though there were many cafes only two were open at the still relatively early hour on a Sunday morning. One was crowded; the other had a smattering of motorcyclists. Opting for the latter provided a more than satisfactory breakfast which was to take me all the way to the end of the ride

Sunday morning in Wigglesworth (courtesy of the Editor)

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without replenishment.Breakfast gave time to ponder. The only way to follow

the course of the Ribble, even vaguely, after Settle is to use the A65 and the A682 to Gisburn. The former, in particular, can carry significant traffic on its often winding and narrow carriageways; unpleasant for the experienced, potentially nerve-wracking for the new-comer. To avoid these, the Ribble has to be abandoned at Wigglesworth for a pleasant ride through rolling farmland and a brief dalliance with the Skirden and Holden Becks until the Ribble is re-joined a little above Sawley.

CLITHEROE ON THE ROADOpting for the pleasant ride, I was treated to the sight of a big club ride, fast, tourer, family, all inclusive, heading in the opposite direction towards Settle in separate groups along these lovely hedge-lined lanes that take the rider in the pastoral gentleness that divides the Dales from the Forest of Bowland. Next to the green, at Wigglesworth, the last views up the Dales made for a sad farewell

Despite this yearning for the hills, the run down to Sawley is beautiful. The becks hold their character as streams born in Gisburn Forest, their wild freedom baulking at the pastures and hay meadows that gather around them as they pass farms and villages on their way to join the mature Ribble.

WILDERNESS AND REBELLION?Sawley was a wild spot once, though today its stone bridge looks as if it has been there forever, the houses line both banks of the river and cars are parked as the occupants head take tea or to sit or stroll by the river. In 1147 Cistercian monks came here; they sought the wild so as to escape engagement from the temptations

of the world and reliance on others. By the time of the Dissolution of the Monasteries the prosperity of Sawley Abbey, never great, had declined, though there is no reason to think that the monks were any less dedicated. In fact four, including the abbot were executed following their involvement in the Pilgrimage of Grace, a revolt against Henry VIII’s attack on the monasteries and some other aspects of the Reformation, boosted by social and economic discontent.

The Sawley of today was full of blossom and quiet prosperity. The river, since Gisburn, has settled into the broadening Ribble Valley which has replaced the wilder Ribblesdale. Harold Briercliffe’s cycling guide to the north of England seems an acceptable source for this distinction, but it is a transformation that has become apparent, at some indistinct spot, somewhere along the way.

An undulating minor road runs on the north side of the river as far as Waddington. A pretty village at the foot of a long road climb to Waddington Moor, it is also the junction for Clitheroe and a ride over Pendle Hill. The Ribble at Clitheroe is excellent for paddling, whilst the town is a good place to stop for a night or two.

Beyond Waddington, keeping off the main road becomes a little convoluted, but remains straightforward with the odd diversion from the bee-line. A more direct line for Preston could have been maintained, but I wanted to visit Ribchester. Thus a short swing south to cross the River Calder at Whalley (an attractive small town and site of another Abbey) and a surprisingly attractive ride along a signed on-road cycle route past Brockhall Village.

Brockhall Village is a modern development on the site of Brockhall Hospital, originally built before the Great War as an Inebriate Women’s Reformatory.

Sawley BridgeSawley Abbey stones

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Setting off up the Coventry Canal to Nuneaton

The Ribble at Sawley

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The hospital became one of the largest institutions for people with learning disabilities, closing in 1992.

A surprisingly steep descent near Salesbury Hall was proving to be equally surprising as an ascent to two large groups of leisure riders heading in the opposite direction. Despite the sharp upward kick, they made steady progress and could all say “Hello!”

ROMANSThough the B6245 runs through Ribchester its riverside position and lovely stone houses give it the feel of a settlement on the end of a cul de sac. Buy at the shop, drink at the pub, picnic on the riverbank, the place invites idling and the slow river is accompanied by grassy banks and a pleasing riverside walk beneath the trees by the Church.

As in much of this area the village was once dominated by textile manufacture. This did not always make for prosperity and the numerous weavers in this area faced as harder times as their more urban counterparts. If you like browsing round country churches, then St. Wilfrid’s is for you, containing, as it does a number of features that, whilst replicated in so many others, cement common past in our present. Keen

church-seekers, such as the editor, may well pedal the short distance to St. Saviour’s, Stydd. A hazy past with surprising twists and turns makes this an interesting site, as well as being one of Lancashire’s few churches dating from before the middle of the twelfth century.

Ribchester’s history, of course, dates back to the building of a fort by the Romans. Presumably there was a ford nearby by which a road crossed the Ribble. There is a museum and there are some remains, though

Waddington

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Traffic free route as it should be

Pendle Hill, in the distance

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RIDING THE RIBBLE

The Calder Viaduct, Whalley

the fact that the fort site seems to have remained the centre of the village means that much has been obscured by later occupation.

THE FINAL STRETCH THAT MUST BE DONEBeyond Ribchester the approach of Preston is felt, increasingly so after Longridge is skirted. The M6 junctions and the busiest roads can be avoided by a short diversion to pick up and follow NCR6 to the north

of Grimsargh. For me, there had come that moment when the ride was over and it had to be admitted. Getting to Preston station was the priority and though the way was far from peaceful, it was more direct. In any case, the run down the Ribble had been accomplished and taking the shorter route gave me a few minutes to sit in the riverside park, close to the station. Part of Preston’s proud Victorian heritage, rather like the Ribblehead viaduct is for our railways, and just a day’s ride into a different world away. SDC

InformationMAPS

OS 1:50 000 sheets 98, 102,103.

GETTING TO RIBBLEHEAD

Well, if you don’t cycle, the alternatives are driving or the railway. Ribblehead has its own station with trains from Leeds and Carlisle. Alighting at Ribblehead, one can ride up to Newby Head, if so inclined. Alternatively, for that fine breed of cyclists who prefer to retrace steps as little as possible, alighting at Dent Station, dropping down to Dentdale and climbing back under the railway will avoid all but a short replication. Allow it to be said that by the end of the latter your legs will be well-warmed up. Trains do not run directly from Clitheroe to Preston, a change at Blackburn being required, except on Sunday, when a single, seasonal, service in each direction links Preston directly to Ribblehed via Hellifield. Check times and cycle carriage. www.nationalrail.co.uk

ACCOMMODATION AND REFRESHMENTS

There is no shortage either, but the area is very popular, so ring ahead or book in advance if you want to stay in a particular spot.

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Dud HubA

side from regular cassette replacement, periodic cleaning and regreasing of its quick release skewer, this particular unit has soldiered on untouched for several seasons and

5,000miles. However, a ghoulish, gritty grumbling emanating from its inner sanctum confirmed serious TLC was in order.

For the uninitiated, Shimano’s six bolt, disc ready M475 freehub is a relatively inexpensive cup and cone model, closest in linage to Alivio but sharing some common parts with the Japanese giant’s more widely revered Deore. Nonetheless, servicing protocol is broadly identical for all three.

Rub A

Simple labyrinth seals mean the 475 is best suited to commuting, touring and general road riding. Regardless of sophistication, sealed bearing components are designed to withstand the sort of water pressures experienced during shallow river crossings and gentle rinsing with garden hoses - not jet washing. Doing so simply forces water inside. With no means of escape, slowly but surely, this destructive element induces corrosion, seizure and ultimately catastrophic failure.

Look online and there’s a fair few forum commentators advocating replacement rather than overhaul of the lowlier ranges, arguing a new unit can be had for the same price as a shop strip. However, this doesn’t factor the cost implication of wheel re/building.

Michael Stenning’s step by step guide overhauling Shimano cup and cone freehubs: Case Study

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TOOLS• Chain Whip or Pedros Vise Whip

• Cassette Lock-ring tool• 10mm Allen Key (For removing freehub body)• 15mm cone spanners• 17mm ring spanner (for locknut)• Small flat bladed screwdriver (biro lids will work

in a pinch)• Replacement Bearings ¼ inch 9 per side• Good quality e.g. Teflon/Ceramic/Polymer

grease.• Clean Rag• Torque wrench (optional)• Approximate time required 30mins c. (£25

including parts and labour when undertaken by independent mechanic/retailer)

STEP 1Start by removing the quick release/security skewer.

Clean these in biodegradable solvent, wipe dry and leave to one side for now. Next comes the cassette. Wrestle the cluster into submission using a chain whip (Pedro’s vise whip makes this task that bit easier), introduce the lock-ring removal tool and turn it counter clockwise with a long handled adjustable wrench. Stiff, high quality grease during fitment ensured ours relented with only moderate force.

Badly weathered examples may require judicious blasts of penetrating fluid such as Plus Gas-generic maintenance sprays can help in some cases but aren’t nearly so effective. Having slipped the cassette free, maintain correct sprocket spacer sequence by threading everything together using a zip tie. Leave oily, congealed examples marinating in biodegradable degreaser (old ice cream tubs make worthy substitutes for parts washers). Theoretically the cassette system means individual sprockets are easily and cheaply replaced when worn but in reality, a fresh cluster (and chain) can prove better economics.

STEP 2With clear access to the locknut and cone assemblies, we turn our attentions to the left (non-drive) side.

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Pop that 17mm ring spanner on the locknut (turning counter-clockwise) while engaging the 15mm cone wrench clockwise.

Up close and personal, it appears the freehub body has sheared, so needs replacing. Fortunately, we’ve a healthy donor deore unit salvaged from an irreparably bent wheel. Access to the right hand bearings necessitates removal in any case.

Slide a 10mm Allen key until it locates within the recessed bolt and then turn counter clockwise. This is easiest with a long-handled ratchet, although T handled types are generally up to the job. Again; a liberal blast of penetrant spray makes the whole process much smoother, avoiding frayed tempers, grazed knuckles and agricultural outbursts.

STEP 3Remove locknut, spacers and cone from the axle, observing order before judiciously slipping the axle free from the other side. In this instance the resident bearings are shot, so it doesn’t matter but placing a rag beneath the hub during routine inspections prevents ball bearings scattering lemming-fashion beneath fridges, benches and other inaccessible regions.

STEP 4Gently tease the bearings free using a small screwdriver or similar implement, taking care to avoid scoring the hub shells or gouging the seals.

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Now clean the races with some clean rag dipped in solvent, checking for any signs of pitting or cracking. Similar housekeeping is needed at the hub shell’s splines.

component, these also come in different grades. Lower numbers denote better quality and more accurate machining.

Higher end Shimano groups use 40 and sometimes 25 grade, which cost around £9 for a pack of 50 (Enough for several rebuilds). However, in this instance (Or indeed more prestigious models relegated to workhorse duties) 100 grade are more than adequate and approximately half the price. Starting at the drive side, introduce those new balls, guiding them home with a flat screwdriver/tooth pick as necessary.

Thread, the cone aboard the axle’s non-drive side and slide through the hub shell. Repeat and then slide everything in situ.

Nip the cones snug, and spin while holding the wheel vertically to assess bearing tension - this bit requires practice. Once everything turns smoothly, reintroduce spacers and locknut. Holding the cone still with that 15mm spanner, tighten the locknut against it.

STEP 6Satisfied everything’s buttery smooth, slot the cassette aboard the freehub, add a slither of grease to the lockring and tighten firmly - to 30n-m if using a torque wrench.

Assuming this region is sound, introduce a measured quantity of Teflon/ceramic or polymer grease here and to the freehub retaining bolt before reinstating.

STEP 5Before adding a fresh bed of grease to the hub shells, roll the axle across a flat surface.

Wobbling indicates its bent and requires replacement. Ours runs true, so is repatriated once we’ve installed new bearings.

As with any

All that remains is to add the skewer, remount and you’re ready for another year’s faithful service. With thanks to Alan at Riverside Cycle Centre for his assistance. www.riversidecyclecentre.co.uk

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Last week l received a birthday card that had been chosen for me on the net. It bore a computer-generated signature, the instigator had never actually handled it, and it’s a worryingly

impersonal thing, without a doubt. Did it make me feel thought of? No - l was simply disappointed.

I can hear the chorus now – “Get up to date you old fool - that’s the way things are done nowadays.” OK, it’s advancement, of a sort, but that doesn’t necessarily make it good. lt’s still possible to go to the shops and choose a card for friends and relations, and a card thus garnered has a different feeling to it altogether. Some things should remain computer free.

There’s More to Cyclin g than Riding a Bike and Paul Wagner isn’t

sure how much of it can be left to digital devices

Don’t misunderstand me - I readily embrace technological advances when they take the tedium out of life, and although I’m not personally hands-on, l recognise that computers are constantly in use on my behalf. But minor technology is increasingly, almost subliminally, ruling our existence, so much so that several of my friends are in total thrall to it. They no longer have control of their lives - their iPhones do it for them - and what was originally a helping hand has become their command centre.

THE NOT SO ILLOGICAL RANT OF A HAS-BEENWhat’s that got to do with cycling? Quite a lot, actually.

When you go out on your bike nowadays many riders are equipped with electronic aids - computers, various phone apps, and sat-navs. These aids regulate their rides, telling them anything from their average speed to whether or not they are falling behind with their predetermined aspirations - the ever-changing data can even tell them when it’s time to have a drink. Sat-navs and their equivalents were designed purely to get you from A to B as quickly and directly as possible. They are small, limited by size in what they can display, and they are not versatile, although

We don’t know what time it is, but it’s got to be Wednesday?

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it has to be admitted that map apps are coming on in leaps and bounds. All such devices are, however, fundamentally performance orientated and they will marginalise the life-giving quality of just drifting around in the countryside, footloose, and tootling along without a care.

None of this kit has any sensory awareness. No app can even hint at where that heady scent of honeysuckle is coming from - or what the old chap on the seat at the edge of the village is dying to tell you about the vicar, who got half cut at last week’s church fete - or why your whole being is compelled to stop and search the heavens for that tiny dot of a skylark whose tremulous song is so entrancing. You need time to find these things out, but if you’re riding to the computer’s diktat, it may well tell you that time’s a-wasting and the

computer says “no”.Such is progress that soon, instead of getting out

in the fresh air, you’ll be able to dial up a choice bit of the Orkneys, or Cornwall, programme in the weather conditions that you fancy, climb on your static bike, watch the screen, and you will be off. You’ll be able to ease the gradient if the hills are too steep, alter the wind direction at will, stop it from raining and shorten the ride to give you time to take your virtual dog for a walk. In years to come, you won’t really need to mix with the great outdoors at all.

Ridiculous? You may think so, but it’: nowhere near as unlikely as it sounds.

TIME FOR A TRUE STORYMany years ago I was touring with some friends in Wales, using, l thought, nothing more than our natural abilities and a map. It turned out that Stuart, one of my travelling companions, was a martyr to his mileage counter. I had made the mistake of telling him, the week before we set out, how far it was between the hostels we were to stay at, and late on the very first day he stopped the party in the middle of nowhere and said irately “You told me we were doing thirty-five miles today, and we’ve done thirty-six already. Where’s the hostel?” (We were going to Ty’n y Cornel, and we were coming across country from Soar y Mynydd Chapel at the top of Llyn Brianne reservoir, a wild exposed place if ever there was). We were flabbergasted. He was completely unreasonable about it and deaf to the explanation that in diverting, mid-morning, to

There are more places where you can

get lost on a map!

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Issue 3 / 2015

look for a cave shown on the map, we had added a couple of mites to our journey. It was a side of him that we’d never seen, but this deviation from the given figures really troubled him and I learned two things fast - people can become obsessed by statistics, and gadgetry can ruin an otherwise enjoyable holiday. His son, an altogether more relaxed individual, took matters into his own hands, and during the night

dad’s simple little device somehow succumbed to a mechanical failure.

Nevertheless, for the rest of our holiday Stu constantly worried about whether we were up to speed with his now imaginary schedule, and he was utterly oblivious to the beguiling countryside of central Wales.

Extreme though it may sound, this actually happened, so beware.

Beguiling countryside, mid-Wales.

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maps, because if I want to find out what’s around me, consulting a map has always been the best way to do it.

But here we go with that “progress” thing again - warning signs are now flashing over the map-making industry.

Ordnance Survey maps are apparently passe and slowly getting harder to find. It seems that, sadly, most people really do carry sat-navs. That deeply disturbs me. Those of us who were brought up using maps are the lucky ones - what an abundance of information is ours at a glance! Once you hand a map’s function over to a machine, a lot of the information currently found there will inevitably disappear, and everyone will be the poorer for it.

So - easy does it. Before you rush down to the bike shop to buy the newest device, consider your options very carefully. Ask yourself if you really want your rides to be stilted, carefully paced, emotionless performances, or would you rather occasionally sit with your back to a tree, with the soft warmth of the sun gently relaxing you? Do you want to be constantly dictated to, or would you rather decide what to do next for yourself? Would you like to have unlimited time to hunt out the source of that delicious honeysuckle smell, and maybe pick a sprig, or take half an hour to discuss runner beans with the old chap in the village - or are you listening to that little box telling you to pick up the pace? Is that Big Brother I can see, just around the corner? SDC

Copyright Tongue-slightly-in-cheek Productions, Shrewsbury

Ordnance Survey maps are apparently passe and slowly getting harder to

find. It seems that, sadly, most people really do carry sat-navs. That deeply disturbs me. Those of us who were brought up using maps are the lucky ones - what an abundance of information is ours at a glance! Once you hand a map’s function over to a machine, a lot of the information currently found there will inevitably disappear, and everyone will be the poorer for it.

OLD TECHNow you don’t have to load yourself up with battery driven bits and pieces. You don’t have to buy all this kit. I have been a cyclist for more years than I care to think about, I’ve been all over the place, and I’ve never owned a cycle computer - not even a simple, old-fashioned milometer. Maybe I’m lucky in that l have a natural sense of time and place; but l have always used

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Amongst the gems of the Peak District (often, the annoyance of Staffordshire and Cheshire people, referred to as Derbyshire), are Buxton, Matlock, Bakewell and any number villages

set amongst dramatic limestone valleys or high gritstone moors. For cyclists there

are also many fine road routes that climb and dip with refreshing

A New Gateway to the Peak District National Park? In 2013 the government announced investment to promote cycling in and to the National Parks. So, one Sunday afternoon in December Editor and Son went to inspect progress on what could be a new gateway to the Peak District.

Peak of Ambition?

frequency, and well-known cycle trails; The Manifold Trail, the Tissington and High Peak Trails that meet near Parsley Hay, the dramatic Monsal Trail amongst others.

Those mentioned above use old railway lines and are magnificently engineered with gradients suitable for steam locomotives and puffing cyclists. Traffic -free cycling for families or folk who aren’t confident on the road? In part, yes. Take a ride on the Monsal Trail on a

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Saturday and you’ll see a whole range of cycles and cyclists. Truth is that the Monsal Trail provides a really useful alternative to the A6 which winds its merry way along Wyedale full of day-trippers, quarry lorries and local drivers going about their everyday business. The Monsal Trail is much nicer for almost any cyclist; just a shame that it does not run all the way from Bakewell to Buxton.

The Peak District trails also feature in Audax routes and were the “white road” element of L’Eroica

Britannia in 2014. So, they aren’t just for children and newbie riders.

The Peak District grant was described in the DfT announcement as follows in 2013;

GRANT £5M LOCAL FUNDING £2.53.5 million people in the surrounding urban areas of Greater Manchester, Sheffield, Derby, Nottingham and Stoke-on-Trent will have better access to the cycle

Leaving Stoke-on-Trent

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ways of the Peak District. The scheme provides four new routes which will enhance the network of traffic free cycling in the Peak District. The programme aims to target public health in the cities that connect to the national park.

The National Park documentation added much more ambition; linking routes within the Park, better access by bicycle from outside its bounds, a boost for business and reduction of congestion. The demise of railways may have left space for “trails” but many people drive to the start and the limited rail network in the White Peak area makes the car the only alternative many are willing to consider.

LAZY SUNDAY AFTERNOONHeard it all before? Me, too. So off we went one breezy, overcast December afternoon to see how things were going on the Caldon Canal towpath, the route that will run from the Heart of Stoke-on-Trent to the edge of the Staffordshire moorlands near Leek and Cheddleton. Will it do the job and who for?

The Caldon Canal runs from Etruria Junction in Stoke-on-Trent to Froghall, an industrial village in the Churnet Valley. Originally developed by the Trent and Mersey Canal Company as a branch of the main canal, largely to enable them to move limestone from the quarries at Caldon Low, coal from the mines around Cheadle and the products of local metal-workers, it was completed in 1778.

Stoke-on-Trent City Council and the then British

Waterways Board surfaced the towpath, with one or two short, odd exceptions, all the way from Etruria, through Hanley Park and on to the edge of the city at Stockton Brook, several years ago. Beyond Stockton Brook the towpath was only usable by walkers and, even after only moderate rain, mountain bikes. Once, and I can’t fathom why, I rode along the towpath from Cheddleton to Stockton Brook on a Brompton. It taxed my skills to such an extent that on reaching the surfaced section at the edge of Stoke-on-Trent I emitted a sigh of relief that turned the heads of passing boaters.

HANLEY PARK TO NATIONAL PARK, NEARLYArriving from home, we joined the Caldon Canal in Hanley Park and headed out of the city. Whilst new housing is replacing the brownfield industrial dereliction along its banks, the canal runs past several signs of the Potteries past and a monument to the fact that the city still makes an awful lot of pots; the former, bottle kilns, the latter, the Emma Bridgewater Pottery.

Even when only a mile from the city centre, rural views open up towards the hills on the edge of the Staffordshire moorlands. Once crowned by collieries and quarries, these are often now used as public green-spaces, notably Park Hall Country Park which dominates the skyline away to the east. Equally, landscaped slag-heaps are easily spotted. A fascinating ride.

The canal is accompanied by a railway line, currently

The only sillyman-made obstruction on the towpath

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closed, but with plans to reopen it for quarry traffic. Maybe a Dales Rail type scheme? Who knows?

ON THE SURFACEIn any case, the new section of path begins at Stockton Brook and, when finished, will reach Cheddleton. Other funding streams have enabled some improvements from The Flint Mill to Cheddleton Station. A signed road route will link Cheddleton to the Manifold Trail, whilst other improvements will allow use of the Leek branch of the canal to link with a road route to the Roaches and from Leek to Rudyard Lake.

You’d expect a freshly laid surface to be good. Crushed lime, as opposed to a fully sealed macadamised top, can ride very well and is easier

Saturday and you’ll see a whole range of cycles and cyclists. Truth is that the Monsal Trail provides a really useful alternative to the A6 which winds its merry way along

Wyedale full of day-trippers, quarry lorries and local drivers going about their everyday business. The Monsal Trail is much nicer for almost any cyclist; just a shame that it does not run all the way from Bakewell to Buxton.

Good going

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Not begun

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to repair. A macadamised surface is more expensive, lasts longer, but is more expensive to repair. I prefer the latter, but crushed lime seems to fit with the need to get a lengthy section completed in time to get the money back.

Riding on, there are occasional glimpses of some of the larger hills, the genuine moorland, while the darker gritstone indicates a move into more remote territory. There are several villages at a little distance to the canal. Watching a steady stream of Sunday afternoon traffic rolling along the main road, I asked my son where he would prefer to be. He looked over and replied that he definitely preferred the canal. I asked which he’d use if he were an experienced cyclist in a rush at a time when the road was not so busy. Road won out.

THORNY QUESTIONSThis was very easy cycling in pleasant surroundings, with the promise of more challenging routes ahead in much more dramatic country. As we discussed this a gentleman waved to us to slow down. I didn’t think we were going overly fast, but slowed to a halt. Rather than a mouthful of unjustified nonsense, the gentleman explained that he cycled regularly. There had been a lot of hedge cutting ahead. Blackthorn and hawthorn had been left all over the path. He said he swept most of it up, but he noticed a bit more about half a mile on.

The canal takes a sharp bend and the towpath

crosses a bridge over the entrance to the marina which is home to the Stoke-on-Trent Boat Club. Around here stone was loaded onto boats, having been brought from the quarries by rail. We missed the thorns on the way out, though on the way back the good old Schwalbe Marathon Plus tyres resisted an attack from a couple which I was able extract without inducing the dreaded hiss.

STAGE MANAGEMENTThe track is being finished in stages. Pushing round the first of the half-made sections, we continued on the good surface towards Hazelhurst Junction. Here the Leek branch bears to the right to cross over the line of the Caldon Canal on the Hazelhurst Aqueduct as the latter drops down to the Churnet Valley. The section by the locks had not yet been improved, but was cycleable with care.

Some two hundred metres beyond the aqueduct is the lovely Hollybush Inn. Situated between the villages of Cheddleton and Longsdon, this is the first pub since leaving Stoke-on-Trent that sits next to the towpath. We stopped and refreshed ourselves.

CHURNET UPBeyond the pub, the canal passes close to the Flint Mill. Open to the public this mill was designed by James Brindley, the famous canal engineer, who lived at

Another stop

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Turnhurst Hall at the northern end of Stoke-on-Trent and is buried at Newchapel, just outside the city. The towpath also passes close to Deep Hayes Country Park and Cheddleton Station on the Churnet Valley Railway. The restored line runs alongside the canal. Beyond Froghall the canal was filled-in for a stretch so that the railway could be built. In others the canal joined the Churnet as there was no room for river and canal.

A cycle route runs down the Churnet Valley, but the whole area is beautifully wooded with hidden remains of old industries. Cycling out of the valley is challenging wherever one attempts it, but especially at Oakamoor where both sides are steep, but Star Bank has a distinct local notoriety. I once trundled up it in granny gear on my mountain bike pulling a trailer containing lunch for thirty. The Churnet Valley is unforgiving to those who attempt to desert her.

On this winter’s afternoon we had already cycled some twelve miles and had twenty to reach home, so we turned around and headed into the wind. We had been genuinely impressed by the work we had seen and planned a camping trip out to the Peak for a summer’s afternoon ride and a camp at Cheddleton next to the railway line. We’d camped there before. Pitched close to the high embankment on which the railway runs, a late-night dining special chugged past with sparks lighting the sky and the fabulous glow of the open firebox briefly lighting up the starry summer

night. Well worth repeating. Except we could now easily cycle, pitch the tent, explore by bike and comfortably cycle back home on Sunday afternoon.

WILL IT DO?In that sense, the new route will have fulfilled its purpose of encouraging cycling into the Peak District, with all the benefits that brings for all concerned. There are some potential problems, though. Top of the list is the simple fact that the long-surfaced Stoke-on-Trent section of towpath is likely to require repair, in some places quite soon. There could be a major mismatch. Whilst the newly improved sections are admirably wide, some of the older section is distinctly narrow. If the route is as well-used there could be problems of congestion and a good deal of care will be needed, for example on the right-angled bend next to the Foxley pub, where the Foxley branch of the canal used to bring coal down from the Whitfield Valley.

Will I use it? Well there are considerations. As a pleasant flat route out to the edge of the Peak District it will be fine for days when there is no rush or when I am with less experienced cyclists. Were I in a rush, then Leek Old Road between Stockton Brook and Stoke Railway Station is more direct, and is not too busy outside of rush hour times. The main road between Stockton Brook and Leek carries more traffic, but is not usually over-busy away from peak periods.

Nearly finished

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In addition there are other ways to go. Hillier, yes, but even newcomers to cycling may eventually decide that a bit of gumption and a good range of gears will raise you out of the valley and onto the glory of our moorland lanes. Cyclists, like walkers, will always moan about ascents, but we know that without them cycling would be dull, devoid of crag and heather, not to mention the long free-wheel back to the valley.

As a commuter, I would probably use the towpath, especially as there are no really dirty sections. As a leisure rider, finding my feet or showing the way to my family and friends, I would use it. As a hardened cycle-tourer, I might sometimes use it and sometimes not; but we are ones for going our own ways. I know one local tourer who says that he finds sections of the towpath

too corrugated by tree routes for a comfortable ride. In fairness, he has some justification. He’ll use the main road. Another says that she prefers the towpath because of the kingfishers that populate it. She only uses the main road if night has fallen.

FURTHER AFIELDOverall routes like this have their place and are without doubt a very useful addition to cycling infrastructure for all of us. Similar projects are being developed in Dartmoor, The South Downs and The New Forest.

On Dartmoor £7.8m of joint funding will deliver major improvements to 93 miles of cycle ways, with a further 86 miles benefitting from smaller upgrades such as improved signage. The focus of that scheme is new family-friendly routes to and through the Dartmoor National Parkk, supported by cycling hubs and provisions for access by those with limited mobility. In the South Downs National Park, which is Britain’s most densely populated, £5.1m aims to provide opportunities for leisure cycling for the 5 million people who live within an hour of it. The scheme will focus on improving access to the National Park from

major rail stations, so as to encourage people to leave the car completely. The New Forest has seen its share of controversy between cyclists and foresters, but the main causes of disagreement have, hopefully been resolved. Here £5.8m of joint funding promises a new network of cycle docking stations that will allow people to cycle between key attractions, communities and transport hubs, supported by a new family cycling centre adjacent to Brockenhurst station. This sounds the least useful to the cycling enthusiast, as opposed to the newcomer, however, time, as ever, will tell.

Seven Day Cyclist will be very pleased to hear from anyone who has ridden these as they near completion. SDC

Under the Hazelhurst Aqueduct, approaching the

Hollybush Inn

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My Brompton had previously visited both Harris and Lewis, and was calling for a full trip. After all, it likes those wild, wet, windy places. Calmac ferries do not run the same route

every day: on Wednesdays from Oban, it runs to Barra. Now there is a place the Brompton wished to see, right near the southern end of the Hebrides.

It was a smooth crossing to Castlebay, four cycles crowding Brommy until being allowed off last of all. The other four headed to the Hostel but we, Brommy and I, headed westward to Borve, to a delightful camp site below the road but above the beach, small enough for just a few pitches, and provided with a small kitchen shelter against the chilling breeze.

Next morning saw us out early, heading northwards. The lush fields were dotted with wild primroses, a pale gold amongst the greenery. To our north lay the unique, world renowned airport. Nowhere else is there a beach airport, available only at low water! As we saw

The BromptonGoes Wild

Wild and Windy West: Hebrides and Highlands, 2014, Part 1by Mark Jacobson

it, the waves came up to the edge; however, with low water due at about 1530h, the next plane was due to land at 1420h. Regrettably, we could not stay to view the spectacle, as the ferry for Eriskay would be leaving soon after 1100h. Only three cyclists boarded this one so, having secured the cycles, we sought the comfort of

Whisky from ‘Whisky Galore’

Loch Seaforth

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the narrow side lounge. After a short crossing we could disembark at Eriskay and face the long climb up from the port. Near the top came a sign for a hotel, for which we had to descend, but the soup, tea and carrot cake were all well worth the subsequent climb after lunch.

Another good thing happened, when talking to the staff at the SS Politician Hotel: three corked bottles were produced, one containing genuine whisky, the others coloured liquid. These are original film props used for ‘Whisky Galore’, that lovely tale of the wreck of the SS Cabinet Minister and subsequent shenanigans over the theft of duty-free whisky.

Eriskay is joined to South Uist by means of a causeway, as is Barra and Vatersay which none of us had ridden to. Riding northwards on South Uist we came to Kildonnain, having first stopped at the birthplace of Flora MacDonald (there are now a lot of connections with the Prince Charles trail marked out for tourists). Suitably refreshed at the museum cafe, we found the museum then shut, so remounted our steeds. I left the other two at my turn for Howmore, as I planned to camp outside the Gatliff Hostel, while Simon and Ray rode on to their B&B at Nunton.

South Uist, like Barra, has much grassland and hill, attractive to the eye. I found that the wetter parts of these fields were well stocked with wild irises, probably the yellow iris, but it was too early in the year to confirm that. With grants being available, older bothies are gradually being restored to their former glory and really do fit in so well with the surroundings, stone walls under a thatch weighted down by a net with heavy stones around its edge.

Continuing northwards next day took me to the first of the many causeways connecting the Uists, Benbecula and Berneray. Before leaving South Uist I came upon the tall statue of the Lady of the Isles: these are Catholic areas but crossing into Benbecula

brings one into the realms of the reformist churches, where Sundays are sacrosanct and society directs that parishioners remain indoors if not travelling to church.

Lunch on Friday came at the Kirkibost Centre, and later, after a discussion with a couple from Kent riding a tandem Trice, I camped at the RSPB. It had not been easy to find this site nor the next one at Griminis as I missed the only sign and found myself too far on, having to retrace some 6 miles into the wind. The signing further south had been far better.

Next morning came with an even fresher wind than before. Leaving early, I had a marvellous view of two skylarks taking off, hovering about 20 feet up then diving to land again. Apparently this is normal behaviour at this time of the year. Once the road turned to the east, I had a bit of a struggle, directly into the strong breeze, coming from the east. When turning northwards again for the Berneray causeway, it came behind briefly, changing forward motion from 8 mph to 25 mph!

Some distance before the Berneray Hostel stands the very welcome Lobster Pot shop and cafe. Not just a wonderful refreshment spot, but also offering free wifi: there is virtually no mobile signal on Berneray! After erecting my tent outside the hostel I returned to the Lobster Pot for lunch and supplies, the next day being a Sunday. Having the hostel lounge/kitchen proved a real boon during the next day, a mainly wet one. That solid fuel stove is really warming, not to mention the use of kettle and cooker!

Monday came with even stronger winds, still out of the east. The ferry from there to Harris takes a very meandering route through the many rocks and banks, a very dangerous stretch to navigate. Disembarking at Leverburgh, I shot off to the cafe above the shop – only to find that that venture had been abandoned! Taking on board some supplies, I decided that a latish lunch in Tarbert would suffice, and rode eastward toward

Barra airfield, not yet exposed! Berneray Hostel

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Rodel: the 3 miles taking nearly half an hour caused me to decide on lunch at the Rodel Hotel instead! From there I rode to St Clements Church, to find two cyclists sitting on the steps, wearing cycle-helmets, but not a bike in sight. Simon and Ray had left their bikes in Tarbert and come by bus.

This scenic route dips and dives around each bay or inlet, not helped by the cross wind. I met a cycle-camping family coming towards me, poor dad pushing the last, littlest child up the climb with one hand, while riding a bike towing the trailer with the other. After a real struggle along the Golden Road, I reached Tarbert finally just before 1500h to spot two familiar bikes outside the cafe: Simon and Ray were about to exit as I opened the door!

From here I decided to push on to the Rhenigidale hostel, a mere 8 miles along the main road to Stornoway, for the 5 mile side road to the hostel, where it would be necessary for me to change the Brommy’s disintegrating gear cable. The climb out of Tarbert proved very difficult, each side gust funnelling through the gaps blowing me towards the ditched edge of the road! Once I reached the turn-off, I came directly into the wind, and even pushing up the 12% climb needed frequent pauses. It took well over an hour to complete the 5 miles and the 13% descent at the end could not quite be free wheeled!

There is little space for more than 2 or 3 tents, but

plenty for my little Macpac Microlight. It was lovely to be indoors, out of the wind and chill, replacing the gear cable in comfort! After this, tea and more! By the time I headed for bed (quite early, too) the hostel had filled fairly well. However, when off the next morning at 0730h, no one else stirred! Without a strong wind, I could cycle all the way up the 13% initial climb and continue to the main road, sunshine breaking through the clouds. It took less than an hour to regain the main road, where the traffic came in clusters, not making a problem for anyone more used to English roads. The road stretches along Loch Seaforth, at which opening lies Rhenigidale, although the road distance is greatly increased by the convolutions of the loch shores. Sun and shadow on the water, cuckoos calling about, varying scenery and the occasional Prince Charles reminder all made for a relaxing ride to Stornoway where, at first, the sudden increase in traffic came as a shock!

Next morning brought light but persistent rain. I did make a ride towards Coll but it was rather miserable so I only stopped to see the memorial to the disaster of

A Prince Charles Memorial

Brompton & Tikit at Stornoway

Lews Castle at Stornoway

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the HMV Iolaire. This vessel was returning Islanders who had survived the First World War when it struck the Beast of Holm rock just yards from the shore, in dense fog. Clearly the skipper was not a local sailor. 205 of the 284 on board perished in this tragedy.

On reaching the ferry port to await our ship to Ullapool I met up again with a Tasmanian cyclist who had crossed from Berneray to Harris with me. On asking how he had fared on his western Harris ride, he told me that his bike frame just broke! Managing to get a lift to Tarbert, he had the frame welded and he hoped this would now survive his remaining week of touring. I had really admired his outfit, especially the dual-drive 21 gear on the Bike Friday Tikit, the small-wheeled steel framed folder from that stable but the 2 kg less weight than my Brommy does result in a weaker frame! Furthermore, his luggage was towed in a trailer, and he is 20 kg below the recommended maximum weight for this bicycle. Apparently this bike was less than six years old, and had now suffered four frame failures.

In part 2, the rain is replaced by sunshine! SDC

notes:I USED:

www.calmac.co.uk for timetables and the Island Hopper ticket, which cost £35.50 for the whole journey of Oban - Barra - Eriskay - Harris/Stornoway - Ullapool

www.gatliff.org.uk for the three Hostels at Howmore, Berneray and Rhenigidale.

www.ukcampsite.co.uk/ for information on campsites

Loch Seaforth

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GRANVILLE, THE TRADITIONALISTIf you are fortunate enough to be too young to remember the TV series Open All Hours lucky you. For the rest of us old fogeys I’d remind you of Granville’s ancient bike used for deliveries and wish to report it’s still going strong albeit in a subdued red to aid its disguise. The bike and its navigator arrived on the scene earlier this year and we never fail to acknowledge each other as we pass.

Regardless of season or weather, he strolls along bedecked head to toe in Harris Tweed and man bag, his attire, steed and bolt upright sitting position attracting much attention. The navigator is fortunate to be living the dream, there are others less fortunate, a fact brought home by the next colourful characters I met only the once.

TEAM HELP FOR HEROESBemused by what it was initially, as it was way in the distance, it began to take shape as I came closer. It was two guys on a tandem bike, complete with enormous union jack flapping in the wind and a contraption attached to the back proclaiming they were on their way north to Inverness, raising funds, as they went, for the Help the Heroes Fund!

I pedalled alongside for a number of miles, gave them a donation to such a worthy cause and enquired on where they got the striking Help for Heroes cycling jerseys they were wearing. ‘Help for Heroes website mate and there are loads of different ones to choose from’. We parted with good wishes to them for the rest of the trip – my day unexpectedly brightened.

tour de jour

A commute brings you into contact with many things, John Campbell tells us a little about some of the people who cross his path on his fourteen mile ride to work from Johnstone to Paisley

Keen cyclist’s private jet

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Rabbie Burns, near the fountain

SINGLE TICKET TO THE AIRPORT COMEDIANIt is not every day you come round a corner to discover a bus crashed through an airport perimeter fence, motorists trying to assist passengers from the bus, out of harm’s way. I’d been running late and on such occasions circumvent the trip around the whole of the airport perimeter, going down Barnsford Road, the opposite side of the airport to the one I normally travel.

The bus had lost control and ploughed down the embankment, coming to rest a few yards beyond the fence. I instinctively pulled up and jumped into help, as you would. Despite every seat in the bus having

collapsed there were only minor injuries, cuts and bruises, the majority simply dazed. I was helping this guy up the embankment when he turns to me and says ‘as if ma day hisnae been bad enough already I get rescued whey a guy in bloody Lycra’ we both laughed out loud.

As you can imagine I ended up really late, compounded by a puncture between the airport and my work. So much for taking a shortcut!

ROBERT (MIGUEL) THE TIME TRIALISTMost days we met. Our first meeting coincided with one of those windy days with a fierce headwind

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on Georgetown Road. I cycled like a maniac to get in behind him and there I stayed for an obscene amount of time, at no time attempting to take my turn, no chance.

Finally running out of straight road, we pulled up at the Red Smiddy Roundabout and he turns and says to me ‘That was brilliant mate. You really forced me to keep up a fierce pace. Any chance we can meet tomorrow morning again as I’ve got loads of time trials coming up this summer and any help is much appreciated’.

This went on for weeks, and despite everything, I began to really enjoy our ‘races’ though never enough to take my turn at the front, nor contemplate a real shot at time trialling as by summer he was leaving me well behind! Sadly he ‘vanished’ a few years back. Maybe one day he will re-appear, hopefully when its windy!

TWO HOPELESSLY LOST ON THE JOGLE John O’ Groats to Land’s End is a fine undertaking. For most, I suspect, there will be months of planning and directions and maps coming out your ears. Not so with Paul and Mark, two intrepid travellers I came across. It is still fairly rare to see touring cyclist in these parts so

I was keen to ask of their destination as I trundled up behind them on my way home from work. Transpired they’d had a number of directional problems that day and to compound the problems had missed the Erskine Bridge turn off (quite an accomplishment) meaning they had no option but to cycle all the way into Glasgow City Centre as there are no other crossings over the River Clyde after the Bridge.

Finally, they had made their way to Paisley but once more had lost their way. Luckily for them they were trying to find the Lynhurst Hotel in my home town and I played the part of support vehicle, taking them the four miles to the hotel front door before making my leave wishing them well on the rest of their travels.

AN OLD FRIEND RESTOREDNear the end of the commute to work, a major

Paisley’s Grand Fountain, Fountain Gardens, before

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in Paisley) and the park aims to please. Not five yards from the grand fountain is the imposing statue of Scotland’s national poet Rabbie Burns, in period dress with pen in one hand, book in the other, leaning against his plough. The statue unveiled in 1896 was paid for by funds raised at popular open air concerts by the Tannahill Choir from 1884, an early form of T in the Park or Glastonbury perhaps!

In only a little more than fourteen miles on my Tour de Jour, hundreds of years of history, but a few characters along the way. The best part (especially on an easterly tailwind) is I get to do it all again in the evening on the way home.

Wherever, and however, your tour de Jour takes you, savour it, keep smiling and join in with a mandatory nod or wave of acknowledgment to fellow cyclists along the way.

transformation has been made in Fountain Gardens. The gardens opened in 1868 and were a gift of Thomas Coats, the sewing thread magnate. Pride of place in the park is the Grand Fountain. Made by the cast iron foundry of George Smith & Co. Glasgow, also in 1868, it gradually fell into a dreadful state of disrepair. Fortunately a partnership of Historic Scotland, Renfrewshire Council and the skilful works of a specialist contractor would rectify matters. Throughout this past year my commute has allowed me to see an amazing transformation of the fountain from a run-down, non-functional relic of a bygone age to a once more vibrant, fully operational centrepiece. The before and after pictures, I hope, give a sense of the outstanding transformation.

Two for the price of one always goes down well with Paisley Buddies (the name given to those born

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Once upon a time, received wisdom was that pretty much any kind of automotive grease was fine on bicycles. Indeed; many cycling preps were simply badge engineered versions of the former. Then

it became increasingly apparent that stout white lithium preps gobbled rubber seals, contributed to seat-post seizures and stuck stems…

LOW & HIGH VISCOSITYMoving parts require lubrication and back in the late 1970s, those pioneers of modern mountain biking were hurtling down hills so fast, the drum brakes on their heavily modified “clunkers” needed repacking with grease after every meet. Road racing cyclists of this era thought nothing of home brewing super-charged, friction busting formulas and post ride-strip downs. Low viscosity means optimal efficiency, super runny stuff that needs regular reapplication; High viscosity formulas trade some full-bore prowess for longevity and are the sensible choice for hubs, headsets, bottom brackets, pedals and contact points.

Obviously there is still room for some experimentation, though observe manufacturer spec sheets to the letter or leave well alone if you’re not

Grease is The WordMichael Stenning waxes eloquent about lubes and where to use them

100% sure. Mixing modern lubricants - especially those of high/low viscosity is asking for trouble. At best their incompatibility will cause them to react counter-productively, or indeed, destroy sensitive components. I recall one rider attending a track meet, absolutely adamant that lubrication of any kind was detrimental to performance. so ran his hubs dry. Within two laps, serenity was shattered by a sickening screech as bearings and hub shell fused together, seized solid, leaving him red-faced and in an undignified heap, though otherwise unscathed.

WHITE LITHIUM GREASES APPROXIMATELY £5 (100ML)Lithium was the default option for many decades since its blend of lye soap and oils bonds tenaciously to metal surfaces and is highly resistant to heat and moisture.

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Therefore, an obvious choice for bikes in hard service – I still use it with excellent results on metals of similar parentage – steel fasteners feeding into steel framesets, aluminium alloy cups/cartridges in 7005/6061, old school cup n’ cone hubs, headsets etc.

Alas, such preps devour elastomers rubber/seals with frightening efficiency and induce a similarly effective union between metals of different parentage given a few changeable seasons. Hence these are very poor choices for pumps, pedal threads shoe cleats, fluted aluminium alloy posts or quill stems residing in steel framesets (especially winter bikes serving on indoor trainers).

Marine greases remain another popular option given their staying power, but are also commonly based around lithium or calcium, so look for something synthetic. I have had excellent results using Aerospace compounds such as “Corrosion Block” which are very stout, yet have no adverse effect upon seals and other plastics/rubberised components.

PTFE (TYPICAL PRICE £4-6)Bike shop shelves literally heave under the weight of PTFE (polytetrafluoroethylene) based lubes - the stuff of non-stick pans, often sold under its brand name, Teflon. In common with Lithium, these are worthy assembly pastes overcoming galvanic corrosion/similar woes. Minimise contact with elastomer/suspension components mind, since most generic types can impair longevity/function.

CERAMICS (£10 UPWARDS)These are increasingly popular high-end friction busting formulas designed to be extremely durable in all contexts, whether taking an extended desert tour, or a winter’s relentless mountain bike racing schedule. Exact compositions remain “Coca Cola” secret but seem to employ sophisticated synthetics and fluro polymers. Petroleum distillates ensure comprehensive coverage;

while boron nitride or sometimes aluminium thickeners prevent expulsion come the first muddy puddle.

Slick and longlived, most I’ve encountered to date haven’t done anything unkind to weather seals, silence phantom squeaks. Experience suggests they’re excellent choices for bearings, threaded components and contact points. Take note if your mountain, cyclo cross and winter hack bikes serve in the worst weathers sans mudguards.

SUSPENSION SYSTEMSBack in the days when rubber elastomers ruled the suspension roost, these required cleaning and re-lubricating using “Judy Butter” or similar brand specific grease every 25 hours of riding/racing. It wasn’t long before riders were seeking cheaper alternatives. A mechanic once suggested Castrol “Red Rubber” Grease (available from classic car/motorcycle outlets) would have the same results for considerably less cash. Unfortunately, such were designed for BSA Bantams, Morris Minors et al, not contemporary synthetics, resulting in costly dysmorphia and damaged bushings. Therefore, stick with manufacturer specific greases and fork oils - many third party brands play nicely but check the weight/composition carefully and solicit the advice of a knowledgeable local bike shop if in any doubt.

CARBON (£6 UPWARDS)Carbon fibre/composites must never be greased, rather introduced to their hosts using friction pastes such as Effetto Mariposa Carbo-Stick, which means

Grease is The Word

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seat clamps/binder bolts needn’t be tightened so intensely, thus minimising the likelihood of crush damage, or full on fractures. Release demands specialist solvents though thankfully, these also serve as handy penetrant sprays for stubborn metal contact points.

SILICONE (£3.50 UPWARDS)These have a host of industrial applications and are particularly popular where rubberised components would otherwise perish and also work handsomely on contact points, bolster weather seals in hubs, lighting systems and dynamo plugs.

A quick lick on LED, Computer/Heart Rate Monitor battery contacts/trays/switches and couplers prolongs their lives quite considerably without affecting connectivity/performance or enticing contaminant.

VEGETABLE/NON- PETROCHEMICAL FORMULASSome bright sparks will suggest vegetable oils are just the ticket for chains, freewheel pawl springs, freehub bodies and similar parts-with suitably laudable results. However, environmentally friendly formulas have come of age in recent years proving themselves genuinely capable alternatives

to petrochemicals. I’ve been particularly impressed by Green Oil’s range and their Eco Grease (derived from plants) works particularly well threaded sections, contact points and other static components.

Admittedly, it degrades slightly faster than synthetics, so those partial to river riding should pop something else in their hubs, headset lower race and bottom brackets but I’ve never had any difficulty swapping parts after several seasons’ everyday riding. Ingredients pose no risk to aquatic life or dermatological health either. Nonetheless, gloves/vigilant hand washing remain best practice.

ANTI-SEIZE/ASSEMBLY PASTES (£7.99 0UPWARDS)As their name implies, “Copper-greases” are assembly pastes capable of withstanding phenomenal heat, thus used on car/motorcycle disc brakes, exhaust mounts etc. That said; these aren’t suitable for bearings and titanium fasteners seem decidedly prone to permanent union, irrespective of mediator hence most OEM fare is now stainless steel.

Obvious candidates include disc brake callipers, seatposts (especially counteracting slippage between aluminium alloy posts residing in non-ferrous framesets) and where threaded Ti components meet other species. Frankly, unless you’re a disc brake devotee with a fleet so equipped, or also an enthused fettler of cars/

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motorcycles, ceramic or polymer formulas are more versatile, yet equally effective options.

WHERE GREASES DO NOT BELONGChains, cleat mechanisms and cables require high viscosity oils to remain slick, corrosion free and longlived. Greasing chains simply results in a sloppy, grimy mess that quickly cannibalises expensive rings, derailleurs and cassettes. While Shimano’s venerable Nexus hub gears use specially formulated grease, Alfine and Rohloff systems require dedicated oils, which should be changed annually or 3,000 mile intervals. Older Sturmey Archer units seem very happy fed good quality marine grease and while heavy duty machine oils will make pre-1995 3/5 speeds feel decidedly friskier, they must never be used with coaster/drum configurations. Otherwise these can sneak past the bearings, contaminating the pads/shoes

CHAIN LUBRICANTS Once choice fell into two camps – wet for absolute staying power and dry for arid, dusty conditions. Nowadays, we have a bewildering array of options catering for every riding context and rider taste. My preference is best-of-both-worlds middleweight dry ceramic types that run very cleanly without being evicted in moderate autumn rain.

When winter really bites, I switch to wet ceramics, which attract markedly less contaminant than traditional oils; although the latter double as very effective grease substitutes on fasteners/threaded components. At the other extreme, super runny, low viscosity waxes are brilliant for really arid summers and can be topped up with little; or no preparation.

Most formulas purport to be fully biodegradable but petrochemicals-whether simple mineral oils or complex two-part fluro polymers using aluminium or boron nitride thickening agents are surprisingly flammable (ditto those using plant derived ethanol), requiring careful storage. Their hostility to aquatic life is another consideration for mountain bikers and rough stuff tourists partial to river crossings.

Basic 10w/40 motor oils still make reasonable substitutes, especially during winter but semi or full

synthetics comprise of clever detergents designed to regenerate in a pressurised, engine environment-these can often evaporate with frightening efficiency, leaving chains protesting within the course of a moderate, two-hour ride.

Control cables (brakes, gears etc) respond best to fortnightly squirts of PTFE based aerosols (some super thin, dry weather chain lubes will achieve identical effect on these, derailleur pivot points and cleat mechanisms) without attracting dirt.

Several manufacturers now offer maintenance sprays, which are thinner blends with a less intense solvent base. These provide water displacing, lubricant properties but without softening polymer polishes, or flushing away existing greases.

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DEGREASERS & ANTI-LUBESSpace aged lubricants last longer and attract far less contaminant than ever before. However, it’s good practice to strip residual stuff when overhauling components or changing brands/weights. A clean; lint free rag dipped in White/Turpentine spirit or similar solvent is extremely effective but equally flammable.

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Traditional bike specific stuff can vary in terms of potency/sympathy, so I’m inclined towards the versatile concentrates that form the basis of grime gobbling washes (200/250ml diluted with tap/rain water usually produces 1litre) while the raw stuff can be deployed neat in chain baths/brushes.

Everyone rides the biodegradable bandwagon these days, though this shouldn’t be interpreted as “harmless”. Some citrus formulas are incredibly powerful, so avoid splashes on skin and minimise contact with anodized, polished, plated and similarly delicate surfaces.

HEALTH & SAFETYPetrochemical toxicity has been common knowledge for several decades now, prolonged exposure associated with cancers, testicular/similar genetic deformities, or less serious dermatitis. This accounts for widespread adoption of latex examination gloves by pro mechanics. Some report adverse reactions to the powdered variety, so it might be worth trying a few samples first rather than splashing out on a full box.

Traditional industrial hand cleansers tend to dry the skin and cheaper blends often contain parabens. Frequently used in cosmetics, such as mascara, shampoo and deodorant, the jury’s out as to their safety. Some folks argue these microbe deterring chemicals are well within safe limits, others cite strong links to reproductive toxicity, hormonal changes and allergies. Personally, I shy away from them and barrier creams, favouring grease guns and other interfaces which optimise accuracy and minimise wastage/cross contamination.

Wearing old clothes should be another no-brainer but we’ve all commenced a ten minute tune-up that’s become decidedly more involved/ messier. In a pinch, mucky maulers can be cleaned using white/methylated spirits, concentrated washing up liquids, alcohol based anti-bacterial gels/wipes. In such instances, squirting some powerful (yet gentle) citrus based bike wash/concentrate into ones palms and rubbing it into the affected area before rinsing off is extremely effective and lends itself handsomely to pre (machine) wash treatment of soiled togs.

Store chemical formulas away from extremes of temperature, sources of ignition, children and/or pets; void cultivating soiled rag mountains too, especially those impregnated by strong solvents or high viscosity lubes. These can spontaneously ignite with potentially devastating consequences. SDC

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Fundraising sportive, Sept 2014 (Courtesy of Peter Eland)

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Peter Eland spoke to Stephen Dyster about how a group of volunteers have brought back to life one of Britain’s cycling calendar favourites -and it’s free!

REBIRTH OF AN AUTHENTIC EVENT

issue 4 / 2015

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Fundraising sportive, Sept 2014 (Courtesy of Peter Eland)

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It is dawning on us all, what a massive thing this is.” Amongst the gems to be found in

the history section of the York Cycle Rally website is a programme cover from 1963; the Daily Mail proudly declaring its sponsorship of the event and its commitment to cycling. This is a big event with a seventy-year history. Yet it is also one that died two years ago and is now being resuscitated under new management: The York Cycle Rally 2015 will be hosted at the Knavesmire on June 20th and 21st.

Peter, known to many of you no doubt as the editor of Velo Vision and Electric Bike magazines, and moonlighting as publicity officer for the rally committee does not see this as a problem; “Having said that we

have a big team now and a number have experience of organising the rally in previous years.”

“Some things are new and require a good deal of grappling to get hold of, particularly health and safety and insurance, but running the campsite is time consuming, but, given our experience, very manageable . Then there are things that need to be started afresh, such as the trade show, says Peter. However, there is new blood on the committee. Some have never had anything to do with it before.

Then there are people like Peter. As he says, the committee is a good mix, “A lot of the committee are rally stalwarts, but some have never been involved in organising anything like this. People like me had attended the rally, in my case as an exhibitor, so when it died we missed it; a lot of people responded to bringing it back to life when Paul Reid made the proposal.”

The first York Cycle Rally was held in 1945 and for many years was one of the CTC’s flagship events. However, in 2012 it was held for the last time. That is until Paul Reid suggested a fresh start.

Yet, it takes a lot of guts to organise such a big event on a purely voluntary basis, and make no mistake the organisers are volunteers; no expenses, no free tee-shirts or branded clothing, expected to pay the same fees for camping. So why do it?

“People love rallies because they are get-togethers and its core function traditionally is for old friends to meet,” Peter explained. “The traditional activities were the

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Getting to the rally, 1953. (Courtesy of Martin Purser and The Tricycle Association)

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grass track arena around which people could have a chat and enjoy a bit of racing, the saddle-bag sale and so on.” However, old friends get older and, eventually, fewer. So the new rally will not operate in a time warp.

Peter pointed out that there are so many cycling organisations and many other bodies aiming to promote cycling that there is a real need for a venue for all the tribes of cycling to come together and recognise that they all have fundamental things in common. “If we can sort out some mountain-biking, BMX and unicycles as well as the things we already have, we will have about everything. The road and touring fraternity and racing will be well represented.”

Peter continued, “We are trying to bring in organisations who want to get people cycling. We really want them to be running lots of activities. The Tour de Yorkshire is in early May, which should get people fired-up. So we hope that many people will come to York to find out more.”

So where does that leave old-stagers, like the Editor, and more experienced cyclists? Many will still come to meet old mates and as Peter puts it, “have a chat around the grass track arena and get a bargain at the saddle-bag sale.” And of course, there are miles of wonderful cycling to be had in a short distance of the relatively flat city.

However, Peter says the old –guard have lots to offer,

too. “They make this an authentic event. They aren’t putting on a show, cycling is what they love to do. People, especially newcomers, value that.”

Cyclists bring a good deal of tourist business to York. They are, contrary to popular opinion, good spenders. Peter points out that, “Whilst we tend to big-up the campsite which brings money directly to us, many will prefer to have more creature comforts and will head for B&Bs in the city. However, the campsite will be the cheapest place to get accommodation that weekend.”

So with everything to play for, what will the committee regard as success? “Success?” ponders Peter, “Success. We are trying to be light on our feet, so, the rally staged again, run smoothly and a slight surplus in the bank account. We don’t want to set our sights too high, but we now have a number of other organisations who will come and organise things. They provide the activities, we offer them the showcase.”

Whilst the rally used to be organised by the local CTC as well as the national organisation, the committee is now totally independent of any other organisation. Whilst this has removed an element of support, it does make a fresh look and a bit of a make-over with easier. And, at heart, the key thing will be bicycle riding, be it racing on the grass, an audax, other touring rides, shorter rides, rides on tricycles, on tandems, rides on vintage bikes, all together, to the Dales, to the pub. SDC

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Saturday ride in the Dales, 1980s (Courtesy of Charlotte Gray)

Fundraising sportive, Sept 2014 (Courtesy of Peter Eland)

The Knavesmire, 1980 (Courtesy of Martin Purser and The Tricycle Association)

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InformationAll you need to know can be found at www.yorkrally.org/ Bookings for the campsite can be made on-line or by post. There are telephone numbers, too, but please remember that the number belongs to a volunteer and fellow cyclist.

You can help, too. The rally will cost in the region of £18 000 to stage. Entrance to the Knavesmire will be free. A sportive was organised in September 2014 to raise funds, but camping fees, sales of the programme (£1) and trade stand fees, will hopefully provide the bulk of financial support for the rally. If you can’t go and you’d like to help it prosper it is possible to become a friend of the York Cycle Rally by visiting www.yorkrally.org/ and following the “About Us” tab.

Alternatively, you can download and distribute publicity material at www.yorkrally.org/ and follow the ‘York Rally 2015’ tab and going to the ‘Downloads’ tab at the bottom of the menu.

York is a relatively small city, but has sites to see so numerous that one can scarcely hope to scrape the surface. It is also packed with tourists. Book accommodation early.

York itself is fairly flat. There are good road and traffic-free cycle routes into the city from most directions, and good road and rail links from most parts of the country.

The Vale of York provides easy cycling, but within a few miles of the city one can climb into the Yorkshire Dales, rumble up onto the North Yorkshire Moors, explore the less frequented Howardian Hills and Yorkshire Wolds, whilst never being far from a cup of tea and a piece of cake. There’ll be advice on routes, both formally, and from the many cycle-tourers assembled.

Numerous 1:50 000 OS maps will be needed to cover the whole area, but I have always found the 1:250 000 OS Northern England map perfectly adequate, unless off-roading.

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Whaw! What a Corker“A wild and lonely spot,” Tan Hill makes an irresistible target for a day ride of moderate distance but significant challenge. Stephen Dyster set out from Richmond for a lunchtime pint at England’s most elevated inn.

I left late, but with the sun on my back and the climb commencing in the town, Richmond was surprisingly rapidly left behind. The prospect of open country and the high moors of the Pennines stimulate

sprightliness in the most sluggish legs. Absence from the dry-stone walls and the rough pastures lit by the morning sun – a wet day does little to dampen the sprightliness but the prospect of a day without long views alters the atmosphere of the ride; it becomes a challenge. For me a wet-day ride is something to be done because you want to get out and about and you hope that the old adage of “rain at seven, fine by eleven” holds true.

This morning there were no such concerns. Sunshine with periods of high-but-dry cloud was the

forecast and cyclists were out and about making the most of it. I took the undulating country road towards Marske. The village could be reached along the A6108 Richmond-Leyburn road and a right turn. A flatter route, indeed; save that for the rainy day. This morning’s views across Swaledale were magnificent visions of pasture, wood and moor.

A cycling event produced long lines of mountain-bikers churning away steadily up the ferocious Clapgate climb from Marske, before turning onto tracks across the hillsides. This is a beetling, winding lane. For the descender there was much to admire, not least the smiles on the faces of most of those coming the other way; more than I might have managed.

The radical undulations continued to Fremington.

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Unlikely to go far wrong

Happy cyclists descending to

Arkengarthdale

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REETHFrom Fremington it is “nowt but a cockstride” to Reeth. Late-morning and the village green, thronged by motorcyclists and day-trippers, did not tempt me. Reeth is a tourist trap; I am determined to get there at an early hour one day and see the village green empty, or maybe a winter trip will be necessary, a cold, wet day might keep the crowds away. Mind you, were there not a horde of tourists there would not be such an array of cafes and pubs for tourists on bicycles. Too early in the ride to stop for long, for my taste, in any case.

There is little danger of getting lost in Reeth. Noting the names of a couple of attractive B&Bs for future reference, pointing the wheel up Arkengarthdale and looking forward to the wilder country to come, I set-to to deal with the long climb up the valley.

ARKENGATHDALEPerhaps it is my largely unscientific approach to climbing, but on climbs like this, with a long view ahead, it seems to me that the gradient merges, in my mind,

into a steady, comfortable roll up the hill. The downside of this is that the occasional steepening of the gradient comes as a surprise. There are occasional dips and sudden rises on this beautiful moorland road. One, in particular, combines with a nasty set of bends to hide oncoming traffic. Despite the obvious attraction of this road as a leisure drive, there was little in the way of motor vehicles, but the stealth like emergence of a car or tractor or even a cyclist descending at speed, can be a jolt from a reverie should one’s steady climb induce a trance-like state of mind.

Whaw; Swaledale and Arkengarthdale have a tougher, wilder feeling than their more southerly counterparts. The place names are almost pure Norse in derivation. For me Whaw sums up the gawping beauty of this area; an isolated community where Arkengarthdale narrows and three moorland streams meet in the deep folds of the broad hills.

Tan Hill was getting closer, though it did not feel like it. Cyclists were prolific along here; club groups, individuals who had either fallen off the back or

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Happy cyclists on the level

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just felt like a quiet time; leisure riders on hybrids and the occasional mountain-biker looking to link up the numerous moorland tracks and bridleways. One of these heads across Sleightholme Moor towards Bowes and forms part of the NCN.

TAN HILLThe Tan Hill Inn came into sight much as an outpost fort in a western movie. Around it were gathered the “wagons” of the travellers across this wild country; a colourful mix of tourists which today sat in the sun around the stark building or wandered to admire the views.

Securing bike and entering the cool of the inn, one was immediately struck by the friendliness of the bar-staff and their interesting brand of gentle and pleasant sarcasm. One can go a long way to receive this sort of welcome; perhaps it is the wildness of the surroundings that makes everyone who has travelled under their own steam an old acquaintance to be greeted as if one were an old friend.

OVER THE STANGHeading back down the road to Whaw was not only much quicker than the ascent, it gave a clearer picture of the gradient, which appeared to be steeper going this way. At Langthwaite, I turned to head over The Stang, aiming for the valley of the River Greta. The climb from Arkengarthdale is very steep in places, but not unremitting. Nor, with considerable height already gained is it the longest climb by any means. Grind it out, I thought, and enjoy the gentler sections. I did, cresting the pass to look over Teesdale as it slices north-west into the northern Pennines.

Coming up from the Greta would be an altogether tougher ride. The main issue with the long descent of this side are a couple of hair-pin bends and the odd switchback section. An area of forestry gave a “highland” feel, but had, as ever, as many areas of desolation as of tree-lined road. Needless to say the whole business of getting down was rapid, though not as speedy as some might make it. I am something of a

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cautious descender on narrow roads.There was, in any case little traffic, and the flow

diminished further along the winding back lane through Scargill, Barningham and other villages all the way to Kirby Hill and on to Richmond. After a day on the moors, this little road is a beauty; wooded dells, hay meadows, changing views, hardy stone villages looking north across Teesdale. This feels like an out of the way road, one which few people know of and where the tourists don’t go, though it is, of course, no secret and there were other privileged cyclists who shared it. Good speed was made, though a careful eye was kept peeled for oncoming traffic round the narrow bends and debris that had washed across the road.

Kirby Hill has a sturdily built pub, but a good place for a break, if needed, was found on the hidden village green. Obscured for the road, away through a stone gateway, surrounded by delightful stone cottages and enclosed on one side by the church, a place to put up the feet for a few minutes and soak up a bit of sun before heading over the hill back to Swaledale and Richmond. SDC

InformationThis would make a good mid-length trip for someone who wants to push themselves amongst fine scenery or a good day tour. For folk who like shorter days there is plenty of accommodation in the area.

Distance : 49.5 miles (79 kilometres)

Total ascent : 5511 feet (1680 metres)

The route is almost entirely on OS 1 : 50 000 sheet 92, with just the section from Marske to slightly beyond Reeth on sheet 98, basically a right turn in Fremington (signposted Reeth ) and a right turn in the centre of Reeth.

Reeth has several cafes and pubs and there are others in several of the villages along the route, but opening hours vary considerably, so best keep stocked up with goodies and vital hydration. The Tan Hill Inn is equipped to deal with the needs of tourists and travellers.

The Tan Hill Inn

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Archibald Sharp was prefacing his “Bicycles and Tricycles; An Elementary Treatise on Their Design and Construction” (published Longmans 1896). The immediate thing that strikes

the reader is that “elementary” it ain’t. Sharp was concerned that there was little literature on his subject. He set that right with a vengeance. The result looks impenetrable to the layman, but is thorough and ordered.

However, for most folk of the eighteen-nineties who had an interest in cycling, and many who did not, at least at first, it was the growth of cycling amongst women that was a much more pressing issue. Cycling offered women an opportunity to experience freedom

In the Good Old Days

denied to most females of previous generations. With a strong link to the women’s suffrage movement it was seen by some as dangerously radical. For many the opportunity was less political but no less revolutionary.

As ES Turner puts it in his “History of Courting” (published by Michael Joseph, 1954), Now a young woman could go where she wished and with whom she wished. If she did not set out with a young man, she could meet him at a pre-arranged point. Or, as a blind, she could start off with a girl companion. Mr. John Boyd Dunlop’s new pneumatic tyre, prone to puncture as it then was, afforded welcome opportunities for gallantry to young men anxious to succour damsels in distress.

A bicycle or tricycle is a more or less complex machine, and for a thorough appreciation of the stresses and strains to which it is subjected in ordinary use, and for its efficient design, an extensive knowledge of the mechanical sciences is necessary – It is hoped that the work will be of use to cycle riders who take an intelligent interest in their machines, and also to those engaged in their manufacture.

No opportunity for gallantry here

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Charlie Chadwick, the Bard of the We.R.7 (an informal cycling group) reflected on a distracted member of the group following a cycling tour in Wales;I’m beginning to doubt it (I don’t want to shout it) but I’ve just heard a whisper todayThat one of the We.R.7 has landed in Heaven, and it’s only a day’s ride away!Whilst he was touring, a lassie alluring, the essence of “sweet seventeen”,His vision enraptured, his whole heart encaptured, a dear little Welsh Gwendoline.They gave him assistance, they taught him persistence, for, though slow, he was awfully keen;And so by insistence, he broke all resistance, and now she’s his own Gwendoline.(“Rough Stuff; the pre-war cycling diaries of Charlie Chadwick, edited by David Warner. Published by the john Pinkerton Memorial Publishing Fund and available from the Veteran Cycle Club, www.v-cc.org.uk www.charliechadwick.org )

Reference: James McGurn “On Your Bicycle; an illustrated history of cycling” Published by John Murray, 1987.Fitzwater Wray (Kuklos) “The Modern Cyclist 1923” Facsimile published by Old House www.oldhousebooks.co.uk

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Tandems were popular amongst “couples”. There were issues of etiquette over who should ride at the front. It was discourteous to turn ones back to a lady, but it seemed, in that era, perverse to allow a female to steer. There was, of course, the wonderful sociable tricycle, which allowed a couple to sit side by side. Many cycling clubs bought these for use by their members.

In the eighteen-eighties and nineties women’s cycling was ruled by what Jim McGurn, in his entertaining and authoritative “On Your Bicycle”, labels the “tyrants” of fashion; the long skirt and the corset. However, intrepid female cyclists sometimes completed ambitious rides. Amongst them was sixteen year-old Tessie Reynolds who rode from London to Brighton and back in eight and a half hours. She caused much offence. She was paced by male friends, rode a cross-barred bike as opposed to a cut-away, step-through frame, and wore “rational” clothing.

By the nineteen-twenties women were much more commonly using bicycles for recreation and utility. However, there was very little choice of bicycles and rational clothing for female cyclists. Kuklos bemoaned the failure of manufacturers to provide for the serious female cyclist; that is one who wanted to do more than some shopping or use the bicycle as a vehicle for carrying cake, a tennis racquet and some flowers. He remarks that what he calls the “decently dressed” female rider no longer attracts unwanted or unpleasant attention.

Of course, male cyclists could find themselves making new acquaintances. Nauticus, that intrepid tricyclist, felt that a cycling chap such as he had a distinct advantage when it came to attracting the attention of female admirers. He was not above a bit of flirtation when taking lodging in a cottage on Skye, or in most other places;

After we had been chatting for about a quarter of an hour, in came a bonnie lassie. I rose to shake her hand and she seated herself with all the ease and grace of a lady. “Your wife, I suppose,” said I to the man. “My sister,” replied he. On my making some common-place remark with the aim of drawing her out, she merely bowed and smiled, and her brother remarked, “She has no English!” So I had to content myself with the language of the eye. (Nauticus in Scotland, published by the Forest Publishing Company, no date)

Tandem riding at a pre-wedding event

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REAR RACK

So that is it for February.Next month as we march into spring, we have the

last bit of this …

Plus someone who failed to plan and a chat with the King of Urban Cycling Cool.

Happy touring.

7DC

Some of this…

A bit more jigging, in the sunshine

We look inside the tyre