Today's Bike Ride

[Marco]

I had not paid sufficient attention to hydration and suffered horrible quads cramp 4 miles from home. You've got a nanosecond to twist your foot out of the cleat before your leg goes rigid in mind-buggering pain. If you fail, you risk toppling into a hedge or an artic!

If you think clip-in pedals are bad, I can assure you that the old-style toe-clips, toe-straps and shoe cleats were a lot worse.

I have only had cramp in my legs on one day of my life. Whilst some of the details are hazy, I can remember I was 16 and it was the day I left school prior to sitting my 'O' levels. I can also remember we'd had PE that afternoon and it was my last organised, and refereed, game of football. I can't remember the score, but I can recall tackling the best player in the school, (who only came to our school after being expelled from his previous one), and then as I ran towards goal the grass came up to meet my face as he hacked my legs away from behind. It must have been bad, because even before I hit the ground the whistle blew and the ref sent him off - and that took some doing in a final PE lesson for 16 year olds at a tough Staffordshire comprehensive school in the early 1980s.

With the weather so good, when I got home I immediately set out on my racing bike - I'm not even sure I had a drink. All was well until I crossed the river Tame at Elford, and started the short climb out of the valley. Right at the top, where the gradient is around 1 in 9, one of my calves locked solid with a lot of pain. I managed, somehow to undo my other foot and stop.

To my surprise, on my 'locked' leg all the calf muscles were rigid and pulling the skin taught in a V section away from the bone. I wasn't sure what to do, but massage didn't seem to work so I punched (quite hard) my muscles towards my leg bones. I appreciate, as some of you have had extensive medical training, that this almost certainly wasn't the right thing to do, but it did work and my muscles returned to normal and the pain went.

The next bit, however, really wasn't the right thing to do with hindsight, as I decided to carry on riding away from home as if nothing had happened. It looked like I'd got away with it too, until I reached Honey Hill on the climb out of the Mease valley. It's a modest hill, again around 1 in 9, but around 10 metres from the summit the calves of both legs locked rigid with cramp. With my legs rigid I couldn't bend to undo either toe strap, so I had to make a decision about which side I was going to fall off onto. I chose the grass verge on the left as the safer option, but what I didn't appreciate, in the split second I had to think about it, was that the wheat field up to the verge, (there was no fence or hedge), was nearly a metre lower than the verge. So not only did I fall onto the verge, I continued to roll (more than once) into the wheat field - still attached to my bike - ending up on my back with my legs and the bike wheels in the air poking out amongst the wheat heads.

And there I remained for a full ten minutes, as I couldn't release myself from the bike until the cramp had dissipated, laughing at the utter stupidity of it all. I wasn't laughing quite so much as I grovelled the near 13 miles home on weak and painful legs.

I'm not sure what the moral of this story is. Whilst on the face of it, it would appear to be a simple one of the perils of dehydration in summer. Alternatively, the moral could be to not play football with a thug before embarking on a sports performance.

[Graham Breeze]

If you think clip-in pedals are bad, I can assure you that the old-style toe-clips, toe-straps and shoe cleats were a lot worse.

I have only had cramp in my legs on one day of my life. Whilst some of the details are hazy, I can remember I was 16 and it was the day I left school prior to sitting my 'O' levels. I can also remember we'd had PE that afternoon and it was my last organised, and refereed, game of football. I can't remember the score, but I can recall tackling the best player in the school, (who only came to our school after being expelled from his previous one), and then as I ran towards goal the grass came up to meet my face as he hacked my legs away from behind. It must have been bad, because even before I hit the ground the whistle blew and the ref sent him off - and that took some doing in a final PE lesson for 16 year olds at a tough Staffordshire comprehensive school in the early 1980s.

With the weather so good, when I got home I immediately set out on my racing bike - I'm not even sure I had a drink. All was well until I crossed the river Tame at Elford, and started the short climb out of the valley. Right at the top, where the gradient is around 1 in 9, one of my calves locked solid with a lot of pain. I managed, somehow to undo my other foot and stop.

To my surprise, on my 'locked' leg all the calf muscles were rigid and pulling the skin taught in a V section away from the bone. I wasn't sure what to do, but massage didn't seem to work so I punched (quite hard) my muscles towards my leg bones. I appreciate, as some of you have had extensive medical training, that this almost certainly wasn't the right thing to do, but it did work and my muscles returned to normal and the pain went.

The next bit, however, really wasn't the right thing to do with hindsight, as I decided to carry on riding away from home as if nothing had happened. It looked like I'd got away with it too, until I reached Honey Hill on the climb out of the Mease valley. It's a modest hill, again around 1 in 9, but around 10 metres from the summit the calves of both legs locked rigid with cramp. With my legs rigid I couldn't bend to undo either toe strap, so I had to make a decision about which side I was going to fall off onto. I chose the grass verge on the left as the safer option, but what I didn't appreciate, in the split second I had to think about it, was that the wheat field up to the verge, (there was no fence or hedge), was nearly a metre lower than the verge. So not only did I fall onto the verge, I continued to roll (more than once) into the wheat field - still attached to my bike - ending up on my back with my legs and the bike wheels in the air poking out amongst the wheat heads.

And there I remained for a full ten minutes, as I couldn't release myself from the bike until the cramp had dissipated, laughing at the utter stupidity of it all. I wasn't laughing quite so much as I grovelled the near 13 miles home on weak and painful legs.

I'm not sure what the moral of this story is. Whilst on the face of it, it would appear to be a simple one of the perils of dehydration in summer. Alternatively, the moral could be to not play football with a thug before embarking on a sports performance.

I once changed down too late on a steep country road, stopped moving forward and toppled to my right under a closely following car to find myself looking up from under its bumper.

The experience did wonders for my cleat extraction technique.

[Llani Boy]

I once changed down too late on a steep country road, stopped moving forward and toppled to my right under a closely following car to find myself looking up from under its bumper.

The experience did wonders for my cleat extraction technique.

It can be equally alarming for the driver of the vehicle too Graham.

I was driving a Bedford MK 4x4 truck on a road within the RAF St Athan base on a damp drizzly morning and approaching a sharpish bend around 20 mph. I glanced to my right across the open grassed area to get a view and saw a cyclist coming rather quickly in the opposite direction.

I could see exactly what was going to happen, so by the time the cyclist entered the bend I had brought the truck to a halt. Three quarters around the bend his wheels lost contact with the road and he slid towards me and disappeared under the front of of my truck. I did not hear or feel a thing.

I jumped out of the cab and fearing the worst looked under the front of the truck but couldn't see him. I then heard a groan and on crouching down could see the rider, still astride his bike jammed under the rear sump.

I dragged him out and fortunately, apart from a few grazes, ripped clothing and a few scratches to his bike he got away without serious injury, mainly due to the height of the vehicle off the ground and, of course, my anticipation of the situation and coming to a halt.

[anthonykay]

A narrow escape that I remember was when I was 14, cycling through the centre of Wellingborough in heavy rain. Going left around a right-angle corner, I didn't slow down enough to allow for the road conditions: I went left, and the bike went straight on. I had been at the head of a queue of vehicles at traffic lights at a previous junction, and the last vehicle in the queue, a double-decker bus, had gone past me just before that left-hand corner. My only injury was a grazed elbow.

A mile or two further on, the rain got so heavy that I found it impossible to keep cycling. There just happened to be an abandoned car by the side of the road, which I hid inside for a few minutes until the downpour abated.

[Marco]

I was driving a Bedford MK 4x4 truck on a road within the RAF St Athan base on a damp drizzly morning and approaching a sharpish bend around 20 mph. I glanced to my right across the open grassed area to get a view and saw a cyclist coming rather quickly in the opposite direction.

I could see exactly what was going to happen, so by the time the cyclist entered the bend I had brought the truck to a halt. Three quarters around the bend his wheels lost contact with the road and he slid towards me and disappeared under the front of of my truck. I did not hear or feel a thing.

I jumped out of the cab and fearing the worst looked under the front of the truck but couldn't see him. I then heard a groan and on crouching down could see the rider, still astride his bike jammed under the rear sump.

A narrow escape that I remember was when I was 14, cycling through the centre of Wellingborough in heavy rain. Going left around a right-angle corner, I didn't slow down enough to allow for the road conditions: I went left, and the bike went straight on. I had been at the head of a queue of vehicles at traffic lights at a previous junction, and the last vehicle in the queue, a double-decker bus, had gone past me just before that left-hand corner. My only injury was a grazed elbow.

I very rarely wear my responsible adult/health & safety hat, but both of these great tales reveal a fact that some people may not have considered.

I learnt, way back at primary school (the hard way), that cycling around left hand bends required more skill and attention, due to the possible consequences, than riding around right hand bends.

I am better on lefts than rights, probably due to having some scary crashes, and most people I talk to are the same. If you're not good on left hand bends then I would recommend caution, and the reduction of speed on bad surfaces or in wet or potentially icy conditions.

[molehill]

70k and 1565m on the gravel bike, hard ride for me in remote forestry.
Poor old bike is taped up with duct tape, has squeeks and rubbing bits and noticed the right shifter on handle is about 2 inches bent off true. The embarrassing part is I don't remember bashing it (anymore than usual) and hadn't even noticed till halfway round this ride.

[Graham Breeze]

70k and 1565m on the gravel bike, hard ride for me in remote forestry.
Poor old bike is taped up with duct tape, has squeeks and rubbing bits and noticed the right shifter on handle is about 2 inches bent off true. The embarrassing part is I don't remember bashing it (anymore than usual) and hadn't even noticed till halfway round this ride.

I think, at your time of life, you owe yourself a Bianchi

You know it is what you really, really want.

[molehill]

70th birthday looming fast (measured in weeks, not years) and money put aside for large "present to self". With 2 wheels and no motor except 💪.

[Graham Breeze]

70th birthday looming fast (measured in weeks, not years) and money put aside for large "present to self". With 2 wheels and no motor except ��.

As long as the present includes campagnolo it will be worthy of such an illustrious birthday.

[Llani Boy]

Yesterday afternoon a rather breezy but humid bike ride out to Chelmorton, over the 515 to Earl Sterndale and up to Parsley Hay.

Whilst there, sipping my Latte, I was chatting to a lady cyclist and during our conversation she mentioned that her father would turn 100 this week and was looking forward to a birthday telegram from the King. I suspect others would have beaten him to be the first, unless our late Queen had signed a few in advance!

From Parsley Hay, back over the 515, and down to Middleton, Youlgreave and Bakewell, via Conksbury, before the climb back up home.

25 miles, 2,326 feet in 1hr 48 mins