After seemingly continual piss weather since what feels like November 2001, we've got a bit of a spell of nice warm weather. So, Thursday was booked for a night ride and beers. Toss, TR, Jase and myself all out and ready for 7, although the others were heckling me to get going even though the cheeky bastards turned up early.
Glorious clear night and 3 separate planets were all visible in the night sky. At this point your probably expecting me to name them but I'm fucked if I can remember. Although Uranus was definitely not one of them.
Spin up to Belmont Road, where head of security locked his lock to a lamp post so he didn't have to cart it all over the hills when we only needed it for the pub.
Horrocks fold and onto Scout Road, the ground was pretty dry and riding fast. Coal pit was dispatched at a brisk pace and we elected to take the road. Just at the end, where you flick onto the gravel round the farm track TR had a bit of an incident. Details are sketchy, however it involved him landing on his fucking head!! Thank the lord for helmets. He caught us up at the gate and gave himself a minute to compose himself.
At the mast road, we check the clock and decided to head down San Marino to the pub. The spin up the road went quick (seemed like a quick pace all night) and we soon arrived at the top. TR wanted Toss to follow him down incase of further incident and I followed Jase, who set of like a fucking scalded cat. A pretty fast and hairy run, Jase getting well ahead of me when I lost my line through bog monster and sank hub deep. How I never went over the bars was just pure luck. Proper rutted this run now but at the bottom we were both grinning like Cheshire cats. Proper buzzing.
We turned out lights off waiting for Toss and TR and as our night vision kicked in we noticed just how much light the moon and stars were pumping out. Lighting up the ridgeline of Winter Hill, I tried to get a picture but the shitty camera on the phone just isn't up to low light pics.
When TR and Toss made it down, we got told the tale that Andy had once again spilled it up at the top, but got straight back on and even got airborne on the last three drops... thats the fucking spirit sunshine!
ON the muddy blast through the forest I nearly came a massive cropper. I dropped the saddle too far and over the rocks tried to click it back up. For some weird reason i grabbed the front brake while my other hand was under the saddle and nearly ended up in the fookin river!! Smacked my knee up something good too.
Soon back in the welcoming busom of the tap. Place was rammed and we couldnt get a seat till about 10ish. 5 pints of wonderful ale topped off a fantastic night out.
Oh... and Toss had something on his head that made it look like a foreskin.
Spring is in the air lads... she's in the air!