The Magnificent 4 Ride

When I saw this picture the image that popped up in my head was The Magnificent Seven.

Guys going on a mission.

That appealed to me.


In the movie, gunslingers are hired to face impossible  odds against a gang of desperadoes across the Mexican border.

Each gunslinger has his own story, his own murderous skill and his own weakness.

There are hotheads, gamblers and dreamers. Men who can kill with a gun or a knife. Killers with a mean streak or some who had lost their nerve and fallen on hard times.

Not all of these characters would make it to the end of the movie. Some would fall by the wayside, some would be killed and some would fall in love with a pretty senorita.

Only two would ride into the sunset having defeated the odds.

I know what you are thinking. With just a little bit of stretching this could be a perfect metaphor for a Cottingham Road Club ride. Well maybe a helluva lot of stretching....

THEN THERE WERE 4

 

Left To Right: Phil, Jon & Niloy

Well I say Cottingham Road Club ride but it wasn't quite a CRC ride. The official CRC ride had been the day before on Saturday. A very windy and very wet trip to Immingham and back starting from the Humber bridge. The weather had been appalling.

Phil had been unable to make the Saturday ride and was desperate to get out for a pedal. He had asked for volunteers to go out with him on Sunday. One problem, the weather.

The forecast was for hard unrelenting rain starting at about 11 am.

We had two other takers Niloy and Jon.

I always feel more prepared for any eventuality whenever Niloy is on the ride.

• Inner tubes - check
• Tyre levers -check
• Multi-tool - check
• Mobile phone - check
• Orthopaedic consultant - check

Jon had just happened on our little gathering and was wavering about coming with us because of the poor weather forecast. He said he would come with us for a short distance and then maybe peel off. He would be welcome for as long as he wanted to stay with us.

In truth he would be going too fast for us anyway.

Jon's bike was awesome looking. A Giant Propel. The front brakes were tucked in on the back of the forks.

"More aero" said Jon. Wow what a gunslinger's bike this was. He definitely thought he was a few km/h quicker just because of the bike.

"Surely the rider's got something to do with it ? " I said paraphrasing a famous Texan.

I thought I could do with losing a couple more stone before aero brakes became a factor for me.

Phil rolled up in shorts proclaiming it was the first day of spring. I applauded the bravery and marvelled at the whiteness of the flesh that was on display. A total absence of any colour whatsoever. Nothing.

Anticipating a deluge I was sporting my big red Altura rain jacket. If it didn't rain I was going to get very hot and sweaty for no reason. I needn't have worried, it was going to rain alright.

Whilst it wasn't an official club ride we were all CRC members so that made it an unofficial CRC ride. So we were kinda like outlaws ! This metaphor just might work.

Are we ready guys ? Let's ride !.......Phil get off the phone ....Let's ride !

THEN THERE WERE 3

 

Jon belted off up the hill out of Cottingham and past the School. I didn't follow him. I wasn't going to make the mistake of trying to hang onto the back of Jon.  If it wasn't for those aero brakes on his bike I could take him though.

One Gunslinger Down

We regrouped at the top of Skidby Mill Hill and went onto Skidby and then up the climb leading to Little Weighton. 

In Little Weighton Jon decided that he'd rather not get involved in a gunfight with the weather today and that he would keep his powder literally and metaphorically dry. 

So after only a few miles Jon went solo down Rowley Road and left us to continue on to High Hunsley.

THE ROUTE

As if the day wasn't going to be hard enough Phil had devised a route which was a hill fest. As well as the hill up to Little Weighton ( which counts as a hill ! ) there was going to be the B1230 climb up to High Hunsley, the Elloughton Dale climb and the climb out of South Cave up Beverley Road.

In addition there was an option to do the evil Spout Hill in Brantingham but the weather would be intervening on that one.

From Little Weighton we headed up to High Hunsley, down Burgate and into North Newbald.

On the way the chatter wasn't exactly "tough guy" talk but it was Magnificent nonetheless. A discussion about weight morphed into all the food we like to eat.

" Take-away pizza and chips but the chips have got to have the spicy stuff on"

"Oh yes and cheese generally, all forms of cheese"

"Yes I love pizza too and if you don't have chips with it that's OK you know, that's officially low fat"

"I'm having steak and chips tonight I'm really looking forward to it"

From there the conversation naturally went on to the state of the Polish health service.

"All I'm saying is don't get sick over there, you have to take your own bog roll in when you go into hospital !"

"Really. No shit ?!"

"Exactly!"

THE FIRST SKIRMISHES 

 

From North Newbald we made our way over to Hotham and came up Pitbalk Hill. So far there had been little trouble apart from Niloy's chain had come off and we were starting to get a little dampness on the roads.

We turned onto the B1230 to take us back up to High Hunsley.

This is a 2 mile climb that averages 3 % but is made up of a steep section at the start in the region of 10 % and then a long drag up that seemingly goes on and on and on.

We made our way up and as expected it was a good lung buster and also a heart buster as my heart rate was in the 180s on the steep bit.

The significant thing about this hill was that at the bottom it wasn't raining. When we got to the top it was tippling down. It was game on with the weather now.

By the time we got to Riplingham Mother Nature had moved up another gear. The rain was bucketing and mucky brown puddles of water were starting to leak out from the adjacent fields onto the roads.

Added to that a fairly strong head wind was blowing up to ratchet up the discomfort levels.

As we headed for Kidd Lane on the outskirts of Welton everything just got ...worse. More rain, more wind, more standing water....just more.

At Riplingham I would say we were still in the novelty phase of getting soaking wet.

We were a band of brothers, sorry make that desperate mercenaries, taking on the wind and rain and rather enjoying it.

By the time we had reached the bottom of Elloughton Dale I think we had moved onto the " actually I am getting soaked right through and starting to feel cold and miserable " phase

As we climbed Elloughton the water was now starting to form streams coming down the side of the road. The first one was interesting to see. As the ride progressed it started to get very old.

Phil's legs were starting to take on a gelatinous quality now like the water was being absorbed into his skin maybe into his very soul. Ok maybe not his soul then.

We had a little rest at the top of Elloughton and then made our way over to the top of Brantingham Dale so that we could head down into South Cave.

 THEN THERE WERE TWO.

 

Another Gunslinger Down

At the top of Brantingham, Niloy had to leave us. He and his wife were entertaining guests and he needed to get back.

I totally understood. The gunslingers life is not for everyone.  Saving innocent villagers from gangs of murderous bandits doesn't leave much time for a family life.

He had come out in the most appalling weather and done himself proud in the fight so far.

Farewell amigo !

AMBUSH AT CAVE ROAD JUNCTION

 

Phil and I carried on towards the last climb of the day which was Beverley Road coming out of South Cave. To get there we had to go down Brantingham Dale. The conditions were really poor with streams of water going downhill and muck and debris strewn across the road.

There then followed probably the most cowardly descent of Brantingham Dale ever. But you know what they say? The graveyard is full of dead heroes. ( Imagine sound of chewing tobacco hitting spittoon ! )

The Graveyard is Full of Dead Heroes

We decided from a self preservation perspective that Spout Hill was not on that day so we continued towards the junction with Cave Road.

I pulled up at the junction just a little ahead of Phil completely oblivious to the peril I was now in. There was a very large puddle at the junction covering a lot of the main road itself. A car was coming down the main road heading right to left.

The car flashed through the puddle and threw an awful lot of water over me. It was like the ice bucket challenge except there was no ice and there was no bucket.

" I'm hit partner ! I'm hit ! "

I had missed the actual moment on my GoPro as it was mounted on the back of the bike.

I tried to persuade Phil that we could recreate it if he just went up to the junction and waited for the next vehicle. Strangely he wasn't too keen on that idea !

Anyhow it was just a flesh wound and I was able to carry on. The little video clip below may give you a flavour of the moment.

THE LAST STAND 

 

From the scene of the ambush we made our way into South Cave and then took a right onto Beverley Road and the final climb of the day.

The streams of water running down the road had now developed into small rivers. These combined with some of the pot holes to produce rapids.

The climb was no longer the worst thing about what was happening.

We had now progressed onto the " we need to get out of this weather or medically there are going to be problems " phase of the ride.

All I wanted to do was get up that hill so I could go down the other side and finish. I wish I could bottle whatever it was that was driving me up that hill because I knocked 30 seconds off my PB and that was with rapids in the way!

Once we crested the hill it was downhill all the way to Raywell and then the welcome site of Eppleworth Road back into Cottingham.

All the while the rain was still coming down with a vengeance. I was so wet and soaked there is no adjective that adequately describes it. I couldn't really move my hands towards the end and Phil said he had lost contact with his feet some time ago.

We arrived back at the Olive Gardens in Cottingham to finish our battle with the elements.

We had lost some of our compardres along the way but we had put in a pretty special ride and had not been beaten by the conditions.

We shook hands before going our separate ways a fitting recognition of what we had been through together.

At last now I can stop this tortuous metaphor with the Magnificent Seven.

I just hope Phil realises that I'm Steve McQueen and he's the baldy guy !

To make a donation towards the vital work of ALZHEIMERS RESEARCH UK please click on the link below. Thank you very much.

MY VIRGIN MONEY GIVING PAGE