So, after eagerly watching the weather forecasts after Sundays mudathon, Thursday night was looking, well, lush. A quick head count for what would be the 1st daylight night ride showed that Weester's bike was in bits, Tossers back was in bits, Pikey and Clarkey wanted to bum each other in private, leaving just Me and Jase.
I was slightly apprehensive over riding with the powerhouse, especially when he sent an email announcing that he had not ridden into work that morning in order to "save his legs" for tonight. I was therefore expecting to have my legs ripped off. No matter, a good fast ride would probably do me good, trying to hang on to his tail.
6.45 came, but Tosser needed a bit of help lifting his barrel of ale into position for the weekends festivities, so we sorted that out for him. It was a lovely night, little bit of cloud cover and a surprisingly chilly wind. We headed up Horrocks Fold, Coal pit and arrived at the gate in no time at all. The sun was slowly sinking over the western horizon and looked promising for a nice sunset. Jase got a nice pic at the gate.
At Belmont Road, I was fucking around with the shock once again when I noticed that the rebound seemed very slow. I couldn't remember changing the setting but wound it down anyway. Setting off along Belmont Road to the pigeon tower was a revelation!! It was literally like a different bike. The shock was soaking up small, medium and big hits with so much plushness it was unbelievable. The suspension has never ever felt that smooth. So, made up with finally getting the sweet spot.
Top of the ICR and we bumped into a big fat scouser leaning on his big fat Landy Disco. "down ear lads" he drawls pointing to the ICR, "I've just come up it in this" he enthusiastically gestured towards the ageing Disco. I was slightly tempted to stop, shack his hand in a congratulatory fashion, and praise him for hauling his fat stupid scouse pimply arse up the ICR and then contaminating the peace and tranquillity of the area with his big mouth, but then decided against it.
We flew down and I decided to try and jump the tarmac drop, but as I got on the tarmac I lost all my speed and rather than jump off, I just kind of fell over, heavily bottoming my forks out. I could hear Jase right up my trumpet until the hairpin where he started to drop back a little, probably feeling the pounding his arse was getting. Pulled up at the bottom and he wasn't that far behind me. We both had stupid grins plastered all over our faces.
Back up through the gardens at a right rate of knots we were soon stood on top of the Pike surveying the wonderful view of the Lancashire plain in twilight. Down the rocky chute and avoid the ruts, we headed over to the Kennels. We pushed up here and then legged it up past the mast to the top of San Marino. We turned the lights on at this stage and Jase, God bless him, broke out the Hip Flask. The Famous Grouse went down exceptionally smoothly and warmed us up. I suggested Jase went first as he battered me down here last time so off he set. I gave him a good 300 yards before I set off after him, but couldn't close the gap at all, he was fookin flying down like a man possessed. Stupid grins all round at the bottom.
Rivi was wonderful tonight, I reckon a couple of dry days and we'll have Dust!!
She's so close I can almost touch her.................................