Riding with Raymond

21st June. The Summer Solstice and our grandsons sixth birthday. And the day that Raymond left us.

We draw up outside our son’s house and I receive a call from Ian. How am I to bring these worlds together, grief and happiness. It’s a cruel world that has them rub shoulders on this day. As we stand on our son’s patio with an excited grandchild dressed as a US cop brandishing his handcuffs I notice that the plastic paddling pool is sitting on rubber tiles that neatly fit together. Who was Raymond our son asks. “A cycling friend. He gave us these”, and I point to the tiles.

Unable to get back to sleep that night I made a very early start on Monday morning on a ride I’d already planned. 100 miles around much of the Lands End 100 route, putting to the test a one wheel trailer I’d bought for touring. So lots of time to reflect. I was soon hauling bike and cargo up from the Bissoe Valley.

Raymond would also like to make things difficult for himself and along with Trev and Ian would grind away on totally unsuitable gears up unforgiving climbs. But unlike Ian, who rode with a freewheel and Trevor who varied it, Raymond stoically kept to riding his bike “fixed”. Getting up the steep climbs took time but he’d soon catch up and overtake on a descent, his legs turning the speed of an out of control food mixer. How we laughed!

I like this route to the north coast. Past Mt Hawke and then I begin the rollercoaster north coast ride at Porthtowan. And I’m beginning to get the hang of riding out of the saddle with the trailer on the steeper climbs, which is essential given the extra weight I’m towing. The trailer has a flag on a stick and I occasionally think that someone is behind. It’s worth hauling the extra weight if only for the extra speed it gives you on the descent. Down, down, down all the way to Portreath. I like the Portreath climb as the views are good and the gradient is even. Once on the high ground you can enjoy the rolling north coast – well most days you can but today a vicious head wind is taking away all the fun. Nothing like a headwind to spoil the party.

We were returning from a Sunday ride and riding into a headwind on Goonhilly Downs. Raymond takes his turn at the front but he’s going a bit quick and Emma has to put in a big effort to catch his wheel. I follow Emma. The wind is blowing hard but Raymond takes all the strain. Others fall away and gradually a gap grows between Emma and Raymond’s rear wheel so I pass Emma. We’re on the straight bit now leading to Traboe Cross and there’s a slight uphill gradient too. Raymond is doing all the work but I’m finding it really difficult holding his wheel. It’s just a question of time before I blow. Maybe enough time for a bit of psychology. I summon all my strength and bellow “Come on Raymond – put some effort in!” Raymond blows! How we laughed.

The head wind is gradually eating away at my resolve. I’m taking my time and trying to save energy but this is really hurting. It’s painful and I empty my head of any musings but, much later and beyond St Ives – on the particularly sharp rise at Wicca – where every breath is drawn with care – I see a string of unopened mayonnaise sachets by the roadside.

If we visited a cafe or a pub – or stopped anywhere that provided sachets of condiments, salt and pepper and assorted sauces – Raymond would fill his pockets. Not stealing, just thinking ahead, so, whenever there was a time that someone would want, say, a bit of brown sauce, Raymond could provide!

It’s not a hot day but it is very warm and I know I should drink plenty of water. After all, I’m carrying nearly a gallon to bring my load up to weight for this trial. And I must eat enough. Lunch is in the trailer but I have nuts and raisins in the bar bag which I nibble during the ride. I also have dried apricots but they’re not in my back pocket which means I must have packed them away – and I am getting sick and tired of nuts and raisins!

Raymond once told me that he’d read that raisins were the best form of energy for long Audax rides. The next long Audax I did, Raymond was there. He had an incredibly large bag of raisins.

The last time I came this way with a couple of Phils we had a head wind. However, when we got to St Just Airport it was behind us. That’s not the case today and to make matters worse my Garmin announces that it is low on battery. I’m not normally troubled by the lack of data but this trip is a test and I’d like to reflect on the numbers so it bugs me that it’s soon going to expire. Though starving I decide to ride until it packs in completely and then stop for lunch. I can continue recording the ride after lunch on my phone. But surprisingly it keeps on going. If only I had a high calorie snack.

On our trips to Ireland I’d ask people to drop their bikes off a few days beforehand so that I could organise the order we needed to stow them in the trailer. Raymond dropped his “Time” over along with Shane’s “Giant”. Shane is quite tall and has his handlebars quite high so the Giant had to go next to a similar sized bike. Raymond’s was easier were it not for his tool bag which I had to remove to allow for the handlebars of the adjacent bike. The zip was slightly undone and I could see that the contents were mainly Mars Bars. Raymond would never find himself in the fix I was now in!

Thankfully the Garmin expires on the high ground before I drop into Mousehole and I stop for lunch in the gateway to a field. I’m ashamed of the rubbish that spews from the trailer bag – my lunch and a warm layer but also “stuff” from the garage I had filled the bag to bring the load up to weight. I am only a little over halfway and I’m completely bushed. I lie on a ground sheet I’ve brought along and have a quick snooze.

And a thought came into my mind. My headlamp had a USB socket from which I could charge my Garmin – if I had the connecting lead. Alas, I hadn’t! And such a clutter already, lights, Garmin, bell etc. Raymond would overcome this by positioning extra lights under the drops, often a mass of tape and batteries to compliment the ones on the bars and helmet. And anywhere else he could find space. Raymond would never be without light!

I take the steep descent into Mousehole down Raginnis Hill. Dylan Thomas supposedly lived for a time on this hill. After drinking himself in and out of lucidity he would make his faltering way home. He always maintained the “Ragginis was good for you”! So I assume he drank Guinness. Raymond liked Guinness too. In fact if there was ever a dark brew in a pub Raymond would drink it. Some of these brews were quite strong. Some were very strong!

And the steep hill was a test for my handlebars too. The bars were slightly too small for the stem and would move slightly sometimes if I hit a pot hole. In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance the author suggests to his friend, who is riding a new BMW motorbike that has a similar problem, to use a strip of beer can as a shim. Appalled by this his friend heads to a dealer for a BMW patent shim. But I cut a strip from a tonic water can and it works perfectly. The handlebars are now solid.

In this respect Raymond was a man after my own heart. We all remember the dexterity with which he would fashion an arse saver from a roadside beer can. Or be ever inventive in creating his own handlebar bags – sometimes in pink! Some will hear him mention that he “found it in the skip” at work. This became the “Skip of Plenty” and from it’s deep recesses he could find all manner of useful stuff. Interlocking rubber mats to start with! And wardrobes of dubiously style sports wear. Or sheets of black plastic large enough to fashion “disc” covers for his rear wheel. Not in an effort to make his bike any quicker ( though it can be a valid aero improvement ) but more as a bit of fun aimed at the flash cyclists with all the kit. All the gear but no idea!

Since Lands End the wind has been behind me. I’m aware that I’m only just ahead of the time I’d given myself of 9 1/2 hours and though I think of stopping for an ice cream in Marazion I immediately overrule it and carry on. I’m almost tempted to take the main road to Helston but choose at the last moment to take the usual Wheeler route through Goldsithney to Ashton. The roads are quieter too though there are pot holes to look out for. I remember the night we came back this way on the Mousehole lights ride. Trevor had just bought his new, all powerful, headlight and we all followed its “car like” beam. The route took on a completely different feel. It became strangely less difficult as we were largely blind to the hilly terrain and in the pitch black and quiet it felt we were completely alone and had the roads to ourselves. I’ll always remember that. And the finally to the Blue Anchor for a quick pint before heading our separate ways.

It’s not long before I’m also heading into Helston but it’s up the steep and busy main road towards Culdrose I head and not the little climb to the Blue Anchor! If it wasn’t for this load I’m dragging behind me I’d be making much better progress. Raymond once told us that he’d started racing snails at work. Keen to make his snail lighter and therefore quicker he removed the shell from his snail. “Did it go any faster?” you were drawn to ask. “No”, he replied, “it became sluggish”!

I’m now feeling pretty bushed and respectful of all round the world endurance cyclists like Mark Beaumont, who not only carry loads over lumpy terrain, but do it day in day out! And I’m reminded of the time Raymond quietly rode a 200 Audax up country one weekend. It was only later we learnt that he’d cycled there to do it. Didn’t shout about it like I probably would, just got on and did it.

I’ve just got a few miles more on the Lizard to bring my mileage to the hundred before I can head back through Gweek. I stop at the entrance to the Bonython Estate and consume a few apricots and drink the remainder of the water in my bottle. I then refill it and empty the large water container I was carrying – I’m done with all this torture. Looking up I admire the landscape rolling away to the north and laugh out loud. A while back, and on reaching a similar vantage point Raymond once declared to us all that a neighbour had just offered him 25 acres of farmland. “Are you going to buy it?” “I would, but I’ve got nowhere to put it!”

Just Gweek to go now, and the long slog up four mile hill ( that isn’t ) and all the hard work is done.

The ride has given me time to reflect on the passing of a friend. I’m not sure that, outside of cycling, any of us – apart from maybe Trevor and Shane – knew Raymond that well. I can’t begin to imagine how they will come to terms with their loss.

Raymond’s passing has come as a considerable shock and we are going to miss this man immensely. Kind, considerate, helpful and amusing. And, universally liked and respected within the club – everyone will have felt a little better about life as a result of knowing him, and it is likely that, going forward, we each take a little of Raymond with us.

The 21st June was a sad day indeed and the world just lost another one of the good guys. We will treasure our memories. Au Revoir Raymond. Cycling legend and one of the nicest men in Cornwall. You will never be forgotten.

Dean is organising a memorial ride for later in the year – and then on the 21st June thereafter.