I'M NOT GOING TO THE FUCKING PUB..... ALRIGHT!!!

Bastards!

This week, the River suggested a ride starting over his neck of the woods. This gave me an idea about maybe heading over Holcombe way as we aint ever been over there in the Dark. Toss quickly arranged few mates to meet him in the Hare and Hounds after our ride over Peel Tower, however I was determined to avoid the pub, being a good boy, I'm staying off the ale during the week at the moment.

It was to be Tossers last ride on his faithful Stumpy before he sprays milt all over his new one on Saturday so it was fitting that we did a good ride and something Different. The forecast was not good so I packed waterproofs.

Weester arrived at mine in good time and we were off. Through the valley and straight into the mud. No grip whatsoever, we all failed to make any of the climbs due to tyres that were totally caked in mud. Weester nearly got T boned as I jumped off the bridge and he cycled straight into the path of where I was going to land. Just missed the bell by a whisker.

The spin along the railway was like riding over a golden carpet with all the autumn leaves crunching under wheel. We were soon going up Shady lane. For a change we stayed on the North shore through the stables and I totally missed the turn up to the top of the Jumbles and we ended up in someone's back garden!


We were soon at the Spread Eagle in the bottom of the valley and next came the climb up to Crowthorn. Brutal climb this... 700' of ascent straight up. By the time we got to the top we were all sweating buckets, but the view was just stunning. Of more concern was the transit van coming down from the body farm. The two lads shouted a cheery hello, but the fuckers werent fooling me. The feigned friendliness was all a rouse to alay our suspicions. Dark fucking acts occur in that lonely isolated factory on the moor, dark fucking acts.

Wind was picking up here as we span along to the the Horseshoe. We all nearly came a cropper on a section of path that had just eroded away, leaving a big gap which would have pitched you well over the abyss. Weester blatted down the steps and Toss faced his nemesis and rode them all with consummate ease. Halfway down, we came accross 2 off roader vehicles who had stopped at the bottom to see if they could find a route across the stream. Seemed friendly enough.

With the wind subsiding, we picked up the pace as flew along towards the start of the climb. The other lads were pestering me like fuck to go for a beer, and, truth be told, deep down I didnt fancy coming back along the Horseshoe past the body farm on my own in the dark, so I relented. 4 Pint limit, to be strictly adhered too, and Weester would back me up.

At the bottom of the rake, Toss and Weester were most put out when I told them that we were NOT going striaght to the pub but were going to do the brutal climb up to the tower. Tough shit, the climb was fucking murder if I'm honest, but the view from the top was just stunning.

Rather curiously, there was a car parked up next to the Tower with some bloke in it. No idea what he was doing up here at 9pm, but we werent about to hang around and let him fire his chainsaw up.

Rocky plunge down to Hey House was taken and was fucking ACE fun. Toss once again facing his demons and riding it like it was nothing! Weester cruised down too. Much big grinning at the bottom.

Ended with a quick spin to the welcoming busom on the Hare and Hounds to sample some fine ale. Lots of lovely ladies in also to provide some very welcome eye candy.

The night went very well, until weester announced "right are we having one for the road". 5 Pints. The utter twat. I looked at him disdainfully, but it was no use. 5 fucking pints, on a school night with 7 miles to ride home.

Oh well, the ride home as it turned out was great fun through the Jumbles and then the valley until Toss grabbed a whole bunch of nettles and rubbed them all over my legs. Got in at 12.20am buzzing and tired and with legs tingling!

Cracking night out... one of the best in ages.