Obsessive Cycling Disorder from OTT

Maybe an 8 o’clock start and a late finished put some people off, but the intrepid ‘5’ turned up almost on time at Batford for what proved to be a day of high’s and one considerable low. With a minimum of faffing about, we were on the road and steaming Northwards in true convoy fashion (or it would have been if Craig has waited). Thanks to a weak bladder, we were all together again just off the M1 and meandered our way through the beautiful Mansfield urban-scape, past the closed pit heads, teenage mothers and Happy Shoppers until we arrived at the natural oasis of single track that is Sherwood Pines.

Again with minimum of faffage, we kitted up and steeled ourselves for some intrepid exploring. We set off like a gang of scorched meerkats through the first section which got the legs warm and the adrenaline pumping. 3 miles in and the first of the days technicals struck when Mark suffered a pinch flat on a particularly fast and flowing section through the ferns. Personally, some of us were glad for an early breather while Fraser hopped about, full of youth and nervous energy (until Craig let his tyres down anyway).

Tubes inflated, we pressed on through some fast, swooping sections and into tight , technical tree sections. More technical shenanigans as my (Rich IV) chain decided to hop off the top rear cassette and into my spokes. A quick pit stop and we were scuttling up a steep ascent, with tight switch-backs. More swooping single-track brought us all to the top of the Sherwood Pines duel decent course. After picking various lines and taking a number of blind crests, we all regrouped at the bottom as breathless as virgins on their wedding night. After a breather, a wipe of the forehead to remove excess perspiration, a quick drink and a discussion on how good the last 5 minutes was, we were off again (which is, coincidentally, also like virgins on their wedding night).

Heading into a fast, narrow and twisty section through trees, Craig suffered the first of his two user induced gear selection malfunctions. More emergency repairs and off we set again, only this time for Fraser to do a disappearing act. We found the stressed teenager just before he called Child-Line.

After 10 miles, we returned to the visitor centre for a well deserved rest and to pick the falling pine needles from our hair, kit and lunch.

Heading off a second time for the ‘blue’ route with all bikes now in perfect working order, we sailed through the first few sections with the trail-blazing shared between most of us. Following the failure to see a big blue sign with an arrow on it, we then found ourselves heading the wrong way round the ‘red’ route. Thankfully, the two female storm-troopers coming the other way were rather good about it and we forged on. At this point, it would be churlish to mention Craig, Fraser and the 5 minute sandy river bed challenge, so I won’t.

Now off the marked route, we were forced to rely on my local knowledge and RichNav to get us back on the trail, however, this extra work milage took it’s toll on RichI who was forced to fall on his sword with the bravery of Cpt Oates and attempt a return to the safety of the car park.

More single track and the now 4 weary peddlers turned for home. The only eventful moment of this was small dog that either wanted to be Mark’s friend or to eat him - we never found out as the yappy little dish rag was outpaced by an impressive turn of speed.

Back at the cars, we faffed for a bit before the much anticipated visit to The Griffin in Papplewich for the much talked-about pie. I knew something was wrong when I entered the establishment as both the carpet, decor and manager had changed. The pies, when they arrived were excellent, but alas, not the world class pastry based, gravy soaked meat containers that I had previously experienced. As I hung my head in shame, the chicken and bacon pie tasted like nettles in my mouth and I struggled to enjoy both the pints of Black Sheep that were required to calm my disappointment.

After that, it was back home down the M1 for tea and medals. I’d like to say, it was a wonderful day with great company and great riding, but the bitter taste of a pie that is now no more than just a memory will taint the day forever like an unwelcome beetroot stain on your favorite shirt.

Thanks must go to Rich and Craig for doing the driving.

This entry was posted on Sunday, October 4th, 2009 at 07:58 pm and is filed under Bike Rides. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.