Epic Hammerimgs

Do you have a short story about the club you would like to share with all then just send it me in.

MIND OVER MATTER:

Barry Collis is a nice bloke, in fact one of the nicest blokes you could have the pleasure of meeting. He is not the sort of bloke that would work you over, intentionally. But you don’t get to be Division Road Race Champion twice without being mega fit and Baz’s fitness and prowess on the bike were little short of legendary. So if you went out on the bike with Baz there was always a possibility that pain and suffering would enter the proceedings at some point.

The first mistake I made on that Sunday morning was getting out of bed to go on the club run. When I arrived at the Red Lion there was only Baz there, so the two of us decided to go out round the old hilly 25 course in reverse. The morning was fine but there was quite a stiff breeze blowing from the South West. We set off up the A51 towards Weston at a brisk pace, but one that allowed us to talk to each other – as you do on club runs. We turned right onto the A518 towards Uttoxeter and had tackled the first of the lumps when we were overtaken by Jeff Bowler of the South Pennine (another hard sod who never did 40 miles when he could do 50).

‘Morning lads, where’re you off to?’

‘Just up to Blount’s Green and then back to Rugeley over the dam’

‘I’ve got this great circuit that takes us through Uttoxeter and onto the A50 down to Etwall and then through the lanes to Willington and back up the A38. It has plenty of places where you can turn off to shorted the circuit of you are feeling a bit knackered. Fancy it?’

‘Er, well, OK’

This was the second and most major mistake of the day because Jeff was out training not on a club run, so the pace went up by several mph. In those days my climbing was reasonable so I had no problem with the hills over to Uttoxeter and when we got onto the A50 the wind was behind us so that seemed pretty good.

‘Body to brain, body to brain. When are we going to turn off?’

‘Brain to body. Don’t be wet’

‘Body to brain. You can’t be serious, we are never going all the way round surely!’

‘Brain to body. Don’t be wet’

I was still feeling pretty good at Etwall, but on the run through the lanes to Willington the warning signs began to appear.

‘Body to brain, body to brain. Fuel supplies running low, please arrange for input of more fuel’

‘Brain to body, brain to body. There is no more fuel please switch to reserve tanks’

Perhaps I need to explain here that, whereas today you are advised in the Comic and suchlike publications to take a dozen energy bars and two bidons with you if you go as far as the post box to post a letter, in the days I am writing about we never took any food or drink unless we were going out all day, or on a really long, hard training ride. Certainly we would not take either on a club run. In any case there was always the possibility of a café stop.

After Willington we joined the wide, open, windswept A38, with the wind bang in front. Through and off, through and off, Baz looking immaculate, zipping through to do his turn.

‘Body to brain, body to brain. Urgent, repeat urgent, need for fuel’

Brain to body, brain to body. No more fuel, repeat, no more fuel. Keep coming through, nice and steady’

A couple more miles into the wind, Baz still coming through pretty brisk.

‘Body to brain, body to brain. Are you mad, we’re getting the knock, slow down will you?’

Brain to body, brain to body. Shut up you fairy. I’m not letting these two go now. It’s only another eight miles’

A couple more miles into the wind, Baz not broken into a sweat yet it seems. I’m really on the rivet now.

‘Body to brain, body to brain. You must be insane, you are supposed to be an intelligent human being. We’ve got the tadpoles now!’

‘Brain to body. It really isn’t far now, honestly’

(Author’s note: If you haven’t had the tadpoles before your eyes while cycling you haven’t had the knock properly!)

Two more miles done and the end of the ride is approaching, but we are doing at least fifteen miles an hour faster than I want to be going. Everything hurts.

‘Body to brain, body to brain. Urgent, urgent, danger of hospitalisation’

No reply from brain.

We swung off the A38 at last, up and over the Barton flyover and down into the village, where both Jeff and I lived and he turned off for his place and we for mine.

‘Fancy a cup of tea Baz?’

‘Please!’

We arrived at our house and got off. I tried not to fall over. When we got inside Sheila, who was used to seeing cyclists in a state of disrepair, took one look at us, saw what a state we both were in and provided us with large quantities of tea and cake. I was too knackered to notice how bad Baz was! Eventually Baz set off for home to Burntwood.

‘Well’ I thought ‘what a hammering, but you have only your stupid self to blame going out training with those two’

Some time later, it might even have been several years later, Baz came up to me and said ‘Do you remember that time we went out training with Jeff Bowler? I have never been so knackered. I was only hanging on because you looked OK’

So both of us were hanging on for grim death because we thought the other was OK and our pride wouldn’t let us give in!

I have sometimes wondered how Jeff felt. He never attacked over the last few miles or raised the pace, or even sprinted a bit up the ramp of the flyover. He might have been feeling very magnanimous and did not want to make us suffer further, but I wonder, I just wonder if he might have been finding it a bit tough too!

Happy days!

Taff Yardley