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I posted this to uk.rec.cycling on 17/06/01:
I had an e-mail on Friday evening from a friend, Ross, telling me that there would be a 40 mile ride starting from Bristol's Millennium Square at 10:00 on Sunday morning, that he was thinking of going and thought I'd be interested. I replied saying I'd probably go if I could be bothered to get up and if the weather wasn't too bad.
I had my concerns. 60 miles (the approximate distance after taking into account the ride to the start and the ride home from the finish) isn't what I'd consider far, but it'd be the first time I'd ridden much more than 20 miles since I got my recumbent in January, and the first time in nearly 3 years that I'd ridden more than 50.
Anyway, after a poor night's sleep (woken by the neighbour's stereo at 1:15), I set off. After a couple of miles my legs felt like jelly and I had my first case of recumbent butt since January. But I felt better once I'd warmed up.
The ride turned out to be "Bristol's Biggest Bike Ride", an annual event held to mark the start of the National Festival of Cycling. 3 routes were available, 8 miles, 25 miles or 40 miles.
At the start there was no sign of Ross, so I set off on my own (apart from the crowds of other cyclists around me). As we were pootling along at 3mph in the bunch another bent rider, Richard, pulled alongside me on his RANS Stratus (the first RANS I've seen) and asked if I had the same problems with low speed stability as he did. He said it was nice to see he wasn't the only recumbent rider there, and I pointed out the Trice 20 yards in front of us. Then I lost them both in the crowd.
I soon had problems with my water supply. I'd strapped my Camelbak to the top of the rack, but knowing the 100oz bladder wouldn't hold enough water for 60 miles I'd also taken 2 water bottles. I drank the first bottle on the way to the start, saving the Camelbak for the ride itself. Then discovered there was a kink in the tube, preventing me from getting any water out. I had to stop 3 times before I got the tube running freely. After that the Camelbak was trouble free, running out of water just as I reached the finish.
I caught up with the guy on the Trice after a couple of miles and had a brief chat about machines. He was riding with his wife on her wedgie, so wasn't going fast. Then I went off in pursuit of the Stratus. It took me about 10 miles to catch Richard, after which we rode together for the next 15 miles or so.
With the Street Machine's low gears hills were no problem. I went up them faster than most of the wedgies and faster then Richard on his Stratus (who I abandoned when we came to the serious climbs and didn't see again). My knees were a bit sore by the end though.
There were a couple of sections that really weren't appropriate to anything other than a knobbly tyred mountain bike. In particular there was a downhill on a farm track that was tarmacced, but coated with slippery mud. Two people came off in front of me along there, in separate incidents, both of them on mountain bikes and taking care. I took it very easy down there.
When we came to the bottom there was a similar track going up. It looked like a wall. I changed down too soon, realised what I'd done, changed up, realised I'd gone too far, changed down again and fell off. Fortunately there was only one other person in sight.
The bike landed with her weight on the AirZound button. So as I picked myself up, Helga lay there with the horn blaring. Still, I got back on and rode the rest of the way up. Probably one of the few riders who did.
After that there were some wonderful descents. I remember freewheeling past one poor lad who was pedalling like crazy on a mountain bike.
I rested for a while at the finish, then as I was leaving I bumped into Ross, just arriving. Still, at least he's had a go on the Street Machine now. He'd wanted to try it, but he's a final year student at Bristol University and this is his last weekend here, so he wasn't sure he'd fit it in. He very quickly got the hang of it and thoroughly enjoyed himself, although the seat was the wrong shape and the boom far too short for him.
I rode the last few miles home slowly in a low gear, my knees complaining all the way. But a few stretches and a well earned plate of noodles left me feeling much better.
Danny
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