One look at the huge turn out of Wheelers this morning was enough to tell anyone unfamiliar with cycling that they might just be missing out on something. Bikes and riders of all kinds and abilities eager for a day out on two wheels. It’s not easy to pin down what’s so wonderful about riding a bicycle – it’s not just the sense of freedom and independence or being out in the fresh air – and I’m sure we all have different feelings about this – but for me, there’s also the feel and look of the bike, the speed, the exertion, the exhilaration and the getting home at the end and that’s just for starters.
Anyway, back to Bickland Business Park. Out of the melee three groups emerge with three destinations. Ten of us opt for moderate speed and distance deciding to go to Perranuthnoe with Fred in the lead determined to do the unconventional. It wasn’t long before murmurings started at the back – ‘I’ve never been to Perranuthnoe this way before’ and after riding around the Wrekin we arrived at Porthleven, surprisingly quiet and looking wonderful in the spring sunshine. It was at the bottom of what I’ve always loved as a descent into the town that the first calamity occurred. Fred lost his nearside crank – it fell off apparently with little warning stripping the splines on the end of the crank spindle. Tools were out and helpful suggestions made while Fred made his repair and the rest of us admired the view stretching down the west coast of the Lizard. Soon we were off again climbing out of Porthleven and up to Ashton to cross the A394 and find our way west through the lanes. The ‘mechanical’ must have knocked Fred’s confidence as directions became confused and we soon re-emerged on the main road several miles from Perranuthnoe. So in groups of two we disrupted the flow of bank holiday traffic heading for Penzance – an unpleasant experience with cars pushing past at speed.
But it was worth it! Perranuthnoe was a dream – not too many people, clear skies and the wonderful sea view. However, calamity number two – the coffee machine had broken and the cafe was only able to provide instant! It wasn’t enough for a full walk-out as the garden was too good to resist but it was a close thing. Fred’s repair didn’t last and he decided to ring home for a rescue after more helpful suggestions about packing the stripped splines with tin foil. We left in groups – Dave, Phil, Damian, younger Dean and John took off first and then later Colin, Dean, Danny and me second, leaving Fred in the Chinese restaurant carpark waiting to be picked up.
Returning by the direct route, just before reaching Godolphin we came across calamity three – the early leavers clustered around Phil’s punctured front wheel. With levers, pumps and advice in abundance the seven of us were soon rolling again – Damian and young Dean had gone. It seamed that an endless procession of long climbs followed getting us back to Porkellis and on to Crane garage. At this point I decided to split off for the last few uneventful miles back into Falmouth. Until, 100 metres from home a dpd van pulled out in front of me and then without warning stopped in the middle of the road leaving just squeeze room either side. I edged up to the open passenger window and politely pointed out to the driver she could have indicated her intentions only to be bombarded with unintelligible shrieks that I could still hear when letting myself into the house – it must have been a bad day in dpdland.
Thanks to Dean, Danny, Phil, young Dean, Colin, John, Damian, Dave and Fred who was eventually rescued by his wife, for a wonderful Sunday morning out on two wheels. No idea how far we went and apologies for any rash claims, inaccuracies or down right lies.
Adrian (about 50 miles, depending on how much you were listening to Fred’d directions, Ed)