In far back times, the age before inertia, when people were keen to take themselves and their bicycles out and battle the elements for a few hours, usually returning wet and muddy, often bloody, sometimes broken. But always grinning (well, almost always) and glad they made the effort. In those halcyon days, we had an annual Christmas Dinner Ride, inevitably the most well attended of the year; a pedal round in the December slop, following which we would retire to a local hostelry to drip mud on the floor and polish off a festive feast. Gradually the numbers of riders has eroded as people take their enjoyment in other ways, ranging from the banal, sitting on the settee watching telly, to perversity, sinking to the sub-strata of pastimes and playing golf. Still each to their own and all that. As if in response to our dwindling participants, the Branch Walkway cafe at Pinchinthorpe Visitor Centre initiated the Xmas Toastie, a hearty concoction of bacon, sausage, stuffing and cranberry sauce - the very thing after a spot of arduous adventuring.
At the cafe we managed to grab the last indoor table to indulge in our Xmas treat, garnering a few friendly remarks from the clean patrons at the other tables. I can never understand how folks can go out in the countryside and stay unblemished - I can get filthy just taking the bike off the car before the ride, never mind after the ride when I generally look like a bog-snorkelling contestant. Our Xmas toasties were duly served up and the speculation that Santa may be jolly because he knows where all the bad girls are, ceased as our mouths were too full of blisteringly hot Christmas flavours. Some time later we were back in the car park, packing bikes away and saying goodbye to Tony for another year as he retreats back into the cocoon of his garage for the remainder of the winter. In between churning out crumpets on an industrial scale, The Breadlad is resuming his jet setting, international playboy lifestyle, eschewing his mountain bike for a pair of skis and hitting the slopes for a few weeks; Miles and SuperBri will be back at work and I’ll begin 2023 wending my weary way around the lonesome moors. Perhaps a future blog post might feature an article on those we have loved and lost - they’re not dead (apart from The Pensioner), they just can’t be arsed.
Clicking on the route names will take you to the Strava page for the route. Where you can marvel at how slow we are.
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