The day started with me (Richard) standing head bowed like a school child in front of the Head Master as the guy in the bike shop chastised me for not cleaning my bike sufficiently, which had aggravated and /or caused the horrific clunking sound. Still he wasn't slow in taking the £120.
So with new brake pads, bottom bracket, cables, rear brake caliper and only the sound of Gareth's ipod to annoy me we set off from Cardiff to take on the Bwlch. It was just the Cardiff contingent present for today's ride (Richard and Gareth) with the Dolan Sisters (Phil and Andy) in the mood for dancing, romancing elsewhere.
Gareth had spent a good proportion of the previous day plotting a route which promised 3 big climbs after the initial 40 miles of the 100 odd planned.
The initial stint was relatively uneventful with just Gareth's unusual compliance with all aspects of the Highway Code worthy of any note and possibly responsible for his inability to keep warm as he stopped and started.
Once the outer limits of Cardiff were reached the going became much more steady out towards Bridgend and beyond.
In Pyle as Gareth stopped at yet another amber light under the guise of asking where the nearest cafe was he rendezvoused with his BALCO contact. As luck had it she did know where a cafe was and so I tucked in to a couple of eggs on toast while Gareth, ever the professional, enjoyed a ham omelette and chips opting to leave the side salad.
The easy part of the ride over with we set off towards Port Talbot and beyond. However, in Treilach my navigational skills failed me and we ended up taking a wrong turn. A couple of hundred metres past the turning we should have taken we realised and pulled over to discuss whether we should turn back. But with Gareth's profound statement "This road's got to lead somewhere" we continued onwards. It wasn't long before we realised this road hadn't seen a lot of traffic and the gritting lorry most certainly hadn't paid it a visit (the nearest this road had got to salt on it was when an errant local girl dropped her chips). The road narrowed and got more treacherous with parts of it needing to be walked. In one fell swoop our average speed dropped from a respectable figure of just in excess of 18mph to a decidedly average 15mph.
Gareth was right though, and the road did lead somewhere sadly it wasn't to the Bwlch and although we had it in our sights several times we ended up on the way to Maesteg and there would be no major climbs just the previously experienced short sharp deep burn fuckers. Still the build up of lactic did bring small respite from the cold. Having added an hour to the trip through the lanes we decided to cut things short and head back towards Llantrisant and then on to Cardiff. The only issue being20deciding which way that was as Maesteg is largely devoid of road signs.
After several attempts at engaging the locals we finally managed to get confirmation that we were heading the right way, but proceedings were brought to a premature end when my spoke went and the wheel buckled. A hasty phone call to Mrs "The One" and she was on her way to pick us up.
While I waited Gareth went on ahead with empty water bottles to get some tea and then a greying cyclist offered mechanical assistance and got me moving again, albeit a little gingerly. Gareth returned with the rankest tea in existence and we free wheeled on towards Llantrisant where Mrs "The One" with "The Young Ones" was waiting in the McDonalds car park.
2 burgers and chips later and Gareth was ready to head back - it's a day off from the diet and after all we have just burned 4000 calories.
So no major climbs, 40 miles short of the planned 100 miles and yet another bill to pay in the bike shop!
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