Sunday, August 05, 2018

A hilly day out

I went out for a ride yesterday.

I enjoyed TSK's company for the first 50k of the ride out to a little cafe bookshop on the edge of Derbyshire.  We stopped at Hope on the way for traditional second breakfast then lunched on oatcakes before he headed home in a round about way and I set off into the Goyt Valley to play on some hills.

First I rode over the Cat & Fiddle like it was the easiest thing in the world then dropped down into the Goyt at Lamaload reservoir and hauled up a few 30% rises in amongst the 20% ones.  After that it eased off to the usual climb over Whingather rocks and Pym Chair to drop down towards Whaley Bridge, from where I planned to ride to Glossop on main roads before heading home.

However, I got distracted by some fine little lanes coming off the Kettleshulme Road and joined them to do some exploring.  I wondered why my dad had never taken me this way when I was a kid.  The sign, "Not Suitable for motor vehicles" is sometimes welcome, sometimes bad news.  This one certainly had me on the brakes and then off them again really quickly as I hit large swathes of gravel.

I kept my Dignity (literally, managed to keep the bike up and me on top of it) then set about the climb back out as the needle hit 30% again and my heart rate hit 180.  I realised why dad never took me this way as I stared at the road, 4 feet from my face and started to haul up the other side.  Mind you, my legs were still in pretty good shape at this point.

I mean I'd only done 70km.

Down the other side and I dropped into a little village, looking at the Garmin I was heading for New Mills and then Hadfield.  It took me a while to realise that the village was Disley on the A6!  One wrong turn and I'd be in Stockport in 10 minutes.  I had inadvertently almost ridden to my parents house and still had to get home with my legs full of hill.

I set about finding a nice way into Glossop from Disley.  I squirrelled between Hayfield and Marple (Marple!) past places like Thornsett and Mellor - places I'd heard of but never been.  I popped out on to a main road to be passed by some knob in a blue fiesta who was clearly so threatened by me he needed to roar his engine as he passed.  OK the legs were starting to get tired now.

We both took a turn into the Rowarth road.  I hesitated at the end to check the map as there was a dead end sign on the post at the end of the lane.  There seemed to be a bridlepath through and I hesitated as to whether to go that way but concluded that: I had the right bike, it wasn't far, it's been dry, the benefit outweighed the inconvenience, I could always turn around and come back.  Both me and Mr angry overshot the lane into the village.  I waited patiently for him to roar past the other way whilst I turned around in the road then followed him up to the carpark whereby I passed him as he poured all his offspring out in the carpark, like a woodlouse releasing its young, and started heading for the pub.

I bounced steadily over the speed bumps designed to prevent intrepid motorists continuing.  I saw my bridlepath but continued along the lane in hope, only to find it barred by a Private Road gate so I retraced and tackled the gravel and baby's head boulders.

It was only around 300m long and spit me out onto another pleasant lane which eventually took me up to the Hayfield - Charlesworth road which I doubled-back on to join the Chunnal descent into Glossop.

Yeah, I was finally properly cooked.  It was 4:30pm and hungry.

A wavering motorist hanging right without any indicators then changing to a left turn had me slamming on the brakes and skidding in the road.  That woke me up and reduced me to a shaking bundle of mess as I walked into the Glossop Costa, by now in dire need of cooling down, caffeinating and a feed.

I sat on the bench outside.  2135m of climbing in 97km.  Oops.  That's good.  Only the Snake Pass to go. 

It took me a while to get warmed up but once I did I enjoyed the Snake immensely.  I didn't have much gusto left but I just churned it out. 1hr 44 mins to the front door, including a swing up to Moscar Top to try and sneak a few more metres climbing.

It was dinner time when I got in after 133km and 2688m of up.  Vaguely tempted to go out and bag a further 70km on the flat after dinner to round it up but not really.  The last stage of the tour was calling, to watch the presentation we missed last weekend.

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