The San Marino Shuffle

shuf·fle

 /ˈʃʌfəl/ Show Spelled [shuhf-uhl] Show IPA verb, -fled, -fling, noun

–verb (used without object)

1. to walk without lifting the feet or with clumsy steps and a shambling gait.

2. to scrape the feet over the floor in dancing.

3. to move clumsily (usually fol. by into ): to shuffle into one's clothes.

4. to act underhandedly or evasively with respect to a stated situation (often fol. by in, into,  or out of ): to shuffle out of one's responsibilities.

5. to intermix so as to change the relative positions of cards in a pack.

6. to attempt to stop and stay upright from high speed with a flat front tyre, whilst simultaniously shitting oneself  "San Marino Shuf-fle"

Thursday rooolllls around again. I have to admit to being a bit low this last week. Wanted to get out on Sunday, but after changing my cassette and chain, it became apparent that there were no teeth on my middle ring that wanted to play with my new chain. So I couldnt / wouldnt ride, general apathy was setting in. Other shit going on was also getting me down I have to admit, so as Thursday approached I was far from arsed about riding, even though I knew it would be the tonic I needed. Cap it all and my back has started its 12 monthly painful tightening. Funny how I only get muscular back pain once every twelve months or so. Again, I knew a ride would ease it, so why was I not arsed about going out??

Gave myself the required kick up the arse and got sorted, round to Weesters for 7 to find Wors already there and Weester nearly ready for the off too. However, faffage as usual took us to about 7.20 before we were off. We decided on our usual Winter Hill / Rivi jaunt. The climb up to Horrocks Fold soon got my legs warmed up  and before long we were setting a blistering pace up Coal Pit. Over the gate and up the path to the mast was taken at record speed. I was really really loving The climb. Funny this, but these days I seem to be enjoying my climbing much much more that I use to. I use to see climbing as a means to get to a downhill, but now, I relish the challenge of a climb and also the hard work involved. Must be my masochistic side coming out as I get older... be getting into bondage next... It seems to be the old ones who enjoy it, judge's, MP's and what not. 

We were passed at the top of the hill bu a car with 3 young lads it in who headed up to the top of the access road, Odd I thought, anyway we climbed up and found the car parked up at the end of the tarmac, we joined the singletrack and as we turned the corner there they were, two of them taking pictures of their mate who was lying on the floor, pulling up his top. Now, you will recall, Wors and I have had experience of strange male outdoor activities, however we were both stumped as to what was going on here.

I took the chute for a change and it was a peice of piss really, the rutted off camber run down to the gate still gives me the willies though. Belmont road to the pigeon tower, where we passed about 12 or so other jocksters all out enjoying the night and we climbed up to the Pike. Nice lie down at the top to cool down and catch the view before we went straight over the edge to the gate, here my new chain decided to come off the big ring and wrap itself inside the crank arm and the cogs. Brute force and ignorance couldn't get it out so Wors had a go and managed to free it instantly.

Up the Kennels and then to the top of San Marino. Now, for some reason, this run has claimed my tubes on a regular basis, I think I must be up to 8 in the last 8 months. The ground was dusty but much firmer than recently with the rain, so we set of at a scorching pace, the first few jumps all sailed over, just getting to bog monster and I Did the shuffle. BANG! front tyre gone, instantly deflated whilst in full flight and hitting the rough stuff. Suffice to say that there was a bit of a brown eye twitch trying to stop. I did find that emitting a high pitched girly scream helped tremendously in my deceleration and I intend to use this on future such occasions. The funny thing was that Weester stopped behind me, then Wors came to a halt, moaning "whats up now!" only to hear the immeiate high pitch tell tale whine of all the air escaping from his rear tyre :).

Tubes changes sharpish as the biters were out, and I was their number one target, we set off down the run, Weester taking a crafty shortcut at the turn and rejoining the path just in front of me. 

Some ignorant bastard has repaired the kissing gate too, meaning we had to shoulder the bikes over the fence to get to the road. Spin along to the road home.

As I suspected, just the tonic. I feel alive and ready for the world after a great ride out with good mates. Food for the soul.

Rivi at its best.

Thursday night ride. Toss was bumming his OAP mates and Clarkey's bike was in bits, so just Wors, Weest and me. The last few days have been glorious sunshine, and if Lee Quarry was anything to go by on Sunday, then the going promised to be excellent. We weren't disappointed. The plan was to do the same run that me and Wors did last week, which is just the Signature ride for Rivi, only missing the Kennels run. However, when we got to Weesters, Sarah was working a little later than advertised and he rather predictably had bike problems. Looks liked his BB was in the process of starting to seize up.

Up the hill to Horrocks Fold, Coal pit to the gate, where we met a couple of fell runners coming down from the moor. I noticed that thier car had a bike in it, and we chatted about the route we were taking. The lads said that the ground was lovely and dry.

Only problem with Coal Pit path is that if you are ascending at night time, the setting sun in plumb in your face all the way up. Still, no matter, I was just pleased it was in the sky, even if it was sinking fast. The path has dried out so quick it amazed me. NO mud resistance at all and we were flying up the track. Up to the summit of Winter Hill, I was gagging to get on the shoulder singletrack. I love this bit of winding singletrack, up on the summit plateaux before the drop. Hit it hard and as fast as you dare it really rewards you with some great flow. The ground was so grippy that we flew along it and then hit the chute. Huge clumps of earth and grass have fallen into the top of the chute making it even more of a challenge to get down. When we reached the bottom, the Sun was just starting to sink over the Irish Sea.... a huge red ball, dunno if it had something to do with the ash from the Icelandic Volcano, but it was stunning. My phone pic does not do it justice.

From Belmont Road, we decided to fly over to the Pike and as the two lads had decided they were off to the pub after the ride, we binned the Ice Cream Run and just went up the Pike. At the top I had an urge to have a go at the steps. So, saddle dropped off I set watched by the two lads. Going well till the sharp corner which I took way too tight and ended up dabbing. Re composed myself and carried on, the steps get steeper the further down but your committed by then. At the bottom, I stopped and watched Wors coming down. He made it look very easy, but Weester bottled it the big homo. Was a great feeling getting down them, not really too difficult but it is a right head fuck.

Up the kennels and along to the top of San Marino. I set off first and apparently at the 1st boggy bit Wors nearly rear ended me and ended up in the Salad. The hill was in PRISTINE condition and I was flying. Jumping off every lip and drop, nailing every rock garden and hammering the pedals at every opportunity, it was just flowing so well until the zig zag when I flew over a pretty sizeable rock lip and there was a bang and the front flatted straight away. Real arse twitching moment but managed to pull up OK. Changed the tube and the lads kindly waited for me even though it was fucking freezing. I told them to get off and wait for me at the bottom, but when I flipped the bike over, I realized that I had blown both the front AND the rear :(. No more tubes in my pack to had to walk / run / jog down to the forest and ponce another tube from the guys.

Straight home and the end of a super fast night ride that had everything I love about biking in it. Only beer was missing for me at least. The other lads ended the evening in the Brewhouse.

Looking forward to Sunday now, praying the weather holds.

THIS is what its all about!

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.

We set off up the path, noticing a couple of other guys in front for a nice steady pace up. I have been experimenting with my shock  the last week or so to see if I could make it a little more plush. The nice Mr. Turner (How many bike makers send their customers a personal email with technical help) suggested that I run it with 30 - 40% sag, slightly more that what I had been doing. I did this on Sunday and it felt very wooden for some reason. Here, off road up the climb it felt the same. Starting to do my head in as the whole bike just felt wrong. Anyway, up to the top of Winter Hill, we bumped into what looked like "team orange" as 3 lads all on identical 5's came past us. Up past the mast and down the shoulder, the path was drying up nicely, a couple of puddles but nothing too deep or slippery. As we came down to the chute the setting sun made a lovely backdrop.

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.................................

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing

Sunday and more snow!! I love it.

Had a nice lie in till 12pm then got a few txt's from Toss and Weest confirming that they are riding. So at 12.30 we head over to Weesters. Its still snowing at this point and bloody cold. Weest joins us and we head up to Horrocks Fold and up to Scout Road. Coal pit was nowhere near as slippery as I thought it would be, the new snow was giving up loads of grip. At the gate, I was surprised when both lads chucked thier bikes over to take the path up. Obviously up for a bit of adventure.

The drifts accross the path were getting a bit deeper and as we got higher, the mist gradually merged with the horizon creating a white out.

It was lovely white thick snow, perfect for snowballs, so at the fence just before the road, we parked up for a snowball fight. Was a comical scene, 3 fat, northern, middleaged bald bastards playing snow balls on the moors in a white out. Great fun.

Onto the mast road I suggested we tried the shoulder for a laugh. After last week, I thought it would be a good challenge in the snow.

The problem was we were the first people, walkers or cyclists down it. Hitting the path was a lottery and all of us went over the bars at least twice as our front wheels disapeared in drifts 3'+ deep of fresh snow. It was pure fucking hillarity.

We tried the chute, but again, i went over the bars on it, and weester had an uncontrolled plummet....

 

The descent to Belmont Road was just a lottery of staying on the bike, non of us really that arsed as we knew a fall would not really be painful, such a soft landing to be had all around.

On the Road, we headed over to the Pidgeon Tower. More powder was falling now and coming right into our faces, I had to stop to put my balacalava on as my forehead was starting to sting. The MRT were out at the top of the ICR and gave Toss a dirty look for wearing 3/4's. Quite right too, the nobber had to turn back 3 weeks ago cause his legs were cold. No sense in that lads head.

Up to the Pike we decided to drop stright off the edge for a change. Weester going first and Toss then me. Both me and Toss shit ourselves on this little bit of rock, but this time we managed it, Toss doing especially well after his fall last year.

I didnt do too bad until I got to the ruts at the  bottom and had a bit of a spill....


Blast down to Hole in't wall, Weester set a blistering pace up to the road, and then Toss sprinted up the mast road!! Pair of bastards had been holding out on me.

So the finale.... San Marino. Weester blasted down, Toss went faster down it in the snow that I had ever seen him in the dry and I had a massive stack just before the spaniel, legs windmilling through the air. We were all so pumped up on adrenalin that all we did was giggle like big kids all the way down. It was just brilliant.

As Jase wasn't with us today, I obviously felt obliged to fall off as much as possible in order at least make it feel he was amongst us.

Toss was about to lift his bike over the gate at the bottom, when I sent an opportunist snowball in a high looping tragectory at him. Bingo, it fell from about 20' straight down plumb on his helmet just as he was lifting his bike up. Shit him up something ace!!

Spin back to Templecoombe and Weester once again displayed his pink credentials by not bothering with the ginnel.

Superb day out acting like big kids. Most fun on two wheels for ages!
 

Its like coming home after a long trip away

Just me and Toss as we were out on a Wednesday. No-one else could make it unfortunatly.

I was gearing up in the garage when a disgruntled looking Toss arrived at the gate and suggested that we have a ride and then visit the pub. He was a pains to persuade me, so with MUCH reluctance I agreed.

We set off up towards Horrocks Fold and it was bloody freezing, with wisps of snow flakes coming down. Other than that a lovely night. As we started to ascend Coal Pit, the road soon became covered with comapacted snow and ice, and nearly had me off on a couple of occasions. Shit meself as the front wheel, out of the blue just slipped and tucked under. Had a great crack with Toss climbing coal pit. Really starting to feel the benefit now of packing in the weed. Can get much deeper breaths.

Toss was struggling a little bit and suggested we carried on the road past the gate and then the access road onto the mast. No probs from me.

Going up the access road and the snow was now starting to come down proper. Older snow had frozen and the going was really treasonous and the wind was whipping into our faces. I love it when its like this, proper "out there" feeling.

Anyway, gets to the top of San Marino and there is shit loads of snow around.

 

We had to go down so I set off with Toss behind me. Ginger wasnt the word. Fook me it was slippy. The front wheel tucked under me three times before we had even hit the Spaniel.  Was great fun in a lunatic kind of way, we were yelping like kids all the way down.

At the bottom, we turned left and prompty arrived at the welcome busom of the Bull. Al was not there, but the Flat Cap was on. It was up to its usual pinnacle of excellence too. First pint flew down and nearly had us in floods of tears. There really is no finer drink known to man.

 

The picture says it all, apart from the long haired hippy!.

Al turned up a little later, he had been out entertaining his Russian Ladyfriend. I knew there was something afoot with him as he had even lit the fire. The first time I have ever seen it on. The tightwad!

Had a great evening chatting to the locals, me and Toss getting all excited about our trip next year. The Ale was just sublime and the evening was topped off by some lads getting their guitars out and having a quick request session.

Fook me it was nice to be back in there for a few beers after a ride. The ride home was fine, but the hill down to San Marino was fookin COLD!. I took the ginnel at Templecoombe, much to Tossers chagrin, but we had a great laff.

Cracking night out!

Just a great ride!!

A decent turn out for this Sunday With Toss, Weester, Wors and myself. Pikey threatened to turn out, but decided that we would be too quick for him so he went out himself over Darwen.

We set off up past Horrocks Fold and it was a lovely day, some good views and the ground was still pretty hard from the frosts. Coal Pit Road and then straight up the path to the Mast. I said we were going down the Shoulder as we hadnt been that way in months. I shot off and stopped at the top of the Gully to see if I could get some video of the lads attempting it. It was full of snow though and Weester made a fair stab at it, but lost his front wheel almost straight away.


So we elected to have a bash at the steep grass. Weester flew down it, but Jase set off with his fookin bald back tyre just locked up. The result was about 10 yards and he was down, yet again. Piss funny.


Toss had lost his momentum, and Jase's fall had just held him up even more. The result of this was lots of time at the top of the steep bit to contemplate it. I could palpably feel his terror as he psyched himself up for the roll off. In the end he pissed it. No problem.

At Belmont Road, we headed towards the Pigeon Tower for the Ice Cream Run. Toss was a bit apprehensive, still getting his confidence back, but once again, he pissed all over it. Me and Jase nearly collected a militant walker on the way down who didnt realise that we had practically no way of avoiding him. The thick twat.

The great unwashed filth of industrial Lancashire were out in force around the Barns. One of them uttered the accepted greeting of the council estate species at us. We didnt bother correcting him that "Cunts" is probably not the best way to greet normal people.

Stopped at the lower barn for a brew. After Toss's last venture in here on a Sunday nearly ended up with him pulling a flame thrower out, me and Jase decided it would be best if we went in for the brews. Jase kindly subbed me for the brew, which was excellent. Weester informed us that he had "packed a bit of fudge". Further investigation revealed that he had indeed brought some, it went down great.

Along the side of the reservoir and up to the School. Straight up the Dentist (fuck me its a long old climb) and at Georges Lane, we headed over towards the Kennels. 4 Paki's were trying to light a BBQ at the bottom of the Pike descent, not your usual February Sunday sight.

We pushed up the Kennels rather than go over to the Hole in't Wall, and then up the mast road. San Marino was just fucking ace!! Not suffered as much as I thought it would have from the recent weather, it was really fast with shit loads of jumps on it.

Spin home along Belmont Road, we decided to have a blast down the ginnel. It was well overgrown and we got ripped to shreds. Good fun though.

All in all, just a fucking great ride, one of my favourite local loops with 3 of the best downhills in it. Great company too... but dont tell them that.

Lunacy on Winter Hill

Sunday round again. Just me, Toss and surprisingly, Weester out. I say surprisingly because it was James' birthday party at 3pm. We did agree to set off at 12 this time though in order to try and make the most of the day. We planned to head over to Rivi as we hadnt been up that way in the snow yet. The snow was just about starting to thaw ever so slightly, but this meant that the compacted some on the roads was starting to give way under our tyres, making front wheel wash outs a common occurrence.

Up past Horrocks Fold to the car park, we were all over the place. Turning right up Coal Pit Road, there was a copper parked up in his X5, looked a bit odd just parked up on his own, so I asked if he needed a push, but he politely declined. Tosser ventured that he may have had "cock in't hand" but I wasnt so sure. Up to the Gate and Weester bid us farewell, so good he could get back for the party. Me and Toss decided to carry on along the road rather than chance the path to the top. We planned to descend the Kennels, Pike, and the Belmont. At the top of the steps we watched a couple of lad with power kites and snow boards having a blast over the moors.

The wind had really got up now and the windchill was ferocious. The drifts that had start to form were proving well difficult and we just ended up pushing. On the Road, the drifts obscure the tarmac around the side of 2 lads, Toss decided on having a play in the drifts.

Probably not the best of ideas given he was wearing 3/4's. Sure enough, his legs went numb and he decided to turn back.

On my own now, I elected to go straight up the road and down San Marino. But the road was just purgatory. The new drifts over slushy salted snow was giving no grip at all. All the time the wind was ripping accross the moor. I ended up carrying the bike to the top of San Marino and getting some pretty strange stares from a few walkers.

The top part of Marino was just a push as in places I was up to my bollocks in snow. After about 200 yards though, I dropped the saddle and had a go. I slithered slipped and slid all the way down, sideways most of the time.

The lower down I got the better it was, less wind and the snow was a bit more compacted with no drifts so managed to get a bit of speed up. The Spaniel was ramped up with snow and was hardly noticeable.

At bottom, had a quick chin wag with a guy carrying some skies, he was hoping to climb up San Marino and then ski back down.

Quick spin home and back to a warm kitchen to make tea.