Captain K's Official Ride Report
Due in part to the bijou turnout, the pioneer status of the North Wales territory continued. The continuing absence of my AWOL Deputy - apparently sunning his torso in an MM training camp in bankrupt Greece - meant full responsibility was again on my slim shoulders. A desperate trip to the Trafford Centre sourced the correct OS map the night before and a two hour session with Google and the fine Ride the Clwyds website dominated my Friday night.
Saturday morning's weather was promising as I arrived for the head count in Cilcain, once home to various NWMBA meetings BiTD. JB was fresh from his Cymcarn pump track action the day before, Dry Paul had arrived in his telephone kiosk of a motor with Woody for ballast against the bikes mounted on the back. Up the hill to our makeshift start point and away - the steeds included a titanium GT, the everfresh DeKerf, an ancient Muddy Fox and JB's modern toss (MT).
No sooner had we crested the first summit before JB flicked one of the myriad switches on his MT and headed down hill. I have since discovered that this particular setting tigthens the sphincter for gnarly DH terrain. The Clwydian Range was tackled mid point under Moel Arthur, before we turned south. The plethora of gates began to immediately irritate, however they would later become opportunities to gather oxygen, the terrain being increasingly of an upward flavour as they day progressed.
A chance stoppage for Dry Paul to tweak and (musically) tune his molten v-brakes allowed a female rider to pass us. The scent of a woman chain gang waited respectively at first, then, realising that a long slow hill lay ahead, began grinding the climb in pursuit. Reward in passing this fine athletic figure was trumped by a spurious 'we're lost' episode with the OS map at the peak - I stooged it up so my colleagues could slather and dribble some more - before we reluctantly parted company.
After 17 miles of varied riding we discovered the prospective lunch venue - sadly food was off, but we enjoyed pints of Nordic Fury in the sunshine before reconvening at a local gastro pub. Here Dry Paul relieved his pent up aggression at losing the acquisition of a rather fine Saracen recently, by nutting the woodwork of the historic building repeatedly. Various candid images of the aforementioned female were ogled before luncheon, which was satisfying if pricey.
Then north for the remaining 15 miles, with one stonker of a road climb up toward Moel y Parc and then more offorad with breezy downhills under the charitable shade, interrupted only by more damn gates and the odd kamikaze sheep. A brief halt for a DeKerfian puncture outside a Grand Design gone bust, then over our final summit and down to the main road. The final four miles saw my gasket blow and it was to the granny ring in a pitiful grind to the cars after 7 hours in the saddle.
All was well with the world once we were esconced in a pub once more - a Melton Mowbray and liquid refreshment soon banishing the pain. Altogether a fine first ride in this territory with awesome views at every point. With some local knowledge to string together a few more technical sections, this is a ride that could yet rival the Peaks...
Thanks to NW&NW stalwarts Chris and Paul and even bigger thanks for our special guest rider Jonny 'motormouth' Boy for coming up from Southampton to accompany us...
Capt K