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Sometimes you just want to hug someone. Arthur, you are my Someone! Read on...

John and Terry were available today and decided to risk a Reivers ride while Jason and Andy were away on  their Trans Scotland MTB adventure. We managed to be early again and arrived at Warkworth's riverside car park around 9.40 am. Luckily the Gollum noticed a big car behind with bikes on top flashing it's lights after he'd passed the car park entrance. That was Ride Leader Willie, very well timed. The sun was out, against all the odds and weather forecasters, and it was around 10 degrees with a stiff north easterly breeze blowing. 8 Reivers and 2 MidAirCrises.

We started the ride at 10.15 am, 3 feet above sea level (that'll be the lowest point the Reivers have ever reached then?) and headed out of the car park in a westerly direction along the south bank of the River Coquet.

We were soon on skinny tarmac crossing Warkworth Moor with a very pleasant tailwind. Willie was leading us to a dismantled railway over Hart Law, and we'd been on it less than minutes, and covered less than 4 miles when the track turned upward a little, and was ever-so-slightly rutted. At this point, Terry was trailing an effervescent Arthur who was really flying today. However, this little climb caught Arthur out somewhat, so Golly, still not at clipless pedal Expert Level, was reluctant to unclip and risk toppling over right behind Arthur. So, he decided to creep under him slightly off-trail. Just as he got level, Arthur's inevitable loss of gravitational stability manifested itself and he keeled over to the right. That was exactly where the Gollum's front wheel was now tooling along. Can you guess what happened next? No, Gollum didn't park the Mutha between Arthur's pulsating arse cheeks. Arthur parked his pulsating arse cheeks square onto the Mutha's front spindle. The result was a right-angle bend in Gollum's front Mavic wheel. The tyre was holding things together as the rim pin had pulled itself clean out of the jointing slot, the little round holes in this piccy: Unfortunately young Arthur had focussed his not inconsiderable weight exactly on the joint of the rim, tearing it open and rendering the wheel completely useless. Or was it? Silly old Gollum was ready to head back to the car amid the advice being poured at him about where to find a bike shop in the vicinity. Suddenly, he remembered his sordid past! Yep, Cycle Speedway. That wonderful amateur bike sport to which I owe every worn out bone, joint, tendon, muscle, heart and prostate gland in the puny Golly body. And a good slug of rheumatism and arthritis. I should really be as dead as I look. As a CS rider and mechanic for 40 years and wheel builder and fixer for most of those it was never difficult to reverse engineer a wheel that looked like the Big Dipper at Flamingoland, as it happened so often on the track. So, 2 good thumps on the ground later, the wheel was back between the Mutha's fork legs good as new and off we went again. Gollum could be heard muttering "Ba**ard Arthur" under his breath for the next hour or two. More about that later.

 

We missed out a chunk of the railway line north of Hazon but were straight back on it again, can't remember why. This section dumped us out by the side of the A1, which we crossed very carefully to the village of Newton on the Moor. We were now on tarmac again until taking to the greenery once more to Glantlees. There was plenty of quite enjoyable singletrack on this route and a very unusual lack of vertical climbing that would normally see the non-Reivers getting out their oxygen masks. Actually, last time we were here, a very large slab of British Beef chased us down the field we were about to cross in the other direction. Luckily it was on it's holidays this time. Slightly salted, I hope. There was something of a climb here up the concrete farm road until we reached a snack stop. By the time Arthur, Tom and I reached the others we'd missed the point of the stop, so Gollum took it to be lunch. It was around 12.15, so why not? So I set about consuming my favourite bits from the trusty old Camelbak, only to discover some time later that the next one was lunch! There was a bit of a search here for some cup and ring rock markings for which Tom has been searching for the last 51 years but never found. Still searching.

There followed a pleasant forest trek through Edlingham Woods, but the Gollum was a bit disappointed to have to hold the Mutha's speed down in case the front wheel turned itself, and himself, inside out. He needn't have worried as it did, amazingly, survive the ride, but on tarmac especially it was making dodgy squeaking noises every time the snapped bit reached the ground. "Ba**ard Arthur". Emerging from the trees a bridleway took us to the B6341 which we crossed on our way to Edlingham Castle and the REAL bait stop. I managed to find my top secret stash of food, which is normally reserved as emergency rations for Jason, who just can't look after himself away from home. Really glad he wasn't here today! Wonder how he and Andy got on in Selkirk on their first day of the Trans Scotland event?

Here's Arthur way ahead of the peloton!

It was time for us to turn into that pesky North Easterly wind from here, but luckily Willies route took us down onto the very well sheltered old railway between Powburn and Alnwick. Slight unease here on the privately owned sections, but how were we to know Willie didn't have "written permission" in his back pocket? Once again Arthur whizzed up to the head of the group and we all wanted to know exactly what he was on (apart from Golly's front wheel). We were off the line and now climbing steadily up the access road to Brizlee Wood and the big round white thing I'm not allowed to mention as a signatory to the Official Secrets Act (I kid you not). We had another short break here, just long enough for Singlespeed Steve to continue his attempts to fully blacken his lungs and convert his white corpuscles to pure nicotine. Arthur was in the thick of the action again as he and Julie entered into some sordid, lewd conversation about small pieces and naked bodies. Close your ears, children. Then it was time to follow the wall in what should have been a real blast of a tricky descent, but again the Gollymobile had to take it fairly easy with that un-joined front rim. Morpeth John managed to upside down himself over the bars at the 25% marker but braved the damage and got to the bottom at Alnwick OK.

And the man himself -

We were forced onto the road through the town centre then off into the excellent and tricky wooded section of trail on leaving the south east side of the town. That brought us out onto the A1 again for our return crossing, this time in front of a police car but he was too busy planting evidence on a car driver to take action against us jaywalkers playing dodgeball with the oncoming traffic. Morpeth John (not MidAir John) led us over the next section of dismantled railway til we got off at Greenrigg and continued on tarmac through Hipsburn, then down onto the dunes for the run-in to home. Golly accepted Gavin's challenge to "attack that  hill" just north of Birling Carrs, and blew the group into the weeds on the last climb of the day, fully expecting the wheel to finally give up the ghost, but it held out OK again. It was then just a case of slipping back into Warkworth where we arrived 6 hours after setting off, around 4.15 ish. Willie reckoned they didn't get back 'til 7.00pm the last time they did this loop, but of course that would have been a more normal Reivers ride in the depths of winter with flooded fields and mud up to their axles.

What's on the telly, chaps?

Julie rethinks her offer to ride nude for Arthur and John grows a goatee beard just thinking about it! Alnwick

Man of the Moment King Arthur checks his blood pressure after Julie's suggestive suggestions

  Almost home

MidAir John's bike PC said 31 miles. The Golly GPS said 29.9 ml/6 hrs 13 mins/4.68 mph avg/27.7 mph max.

Once again one of Willie's rides proved a big hit with John and Terry. There was hardly a steep climb in sight on this one, proving it's not necessary to put strugglers through the mill for no particular reason, and the views of Northumberland were as stunning as any. The ride had almost everything in well balanced doses. No-one got left behind, we travelled at a reasonable rate with plenty of reference to last man, with Tom riding shotgun on the climbs, a couple or three decent rests allowed a good slice of chin-wagging and gate opening was evenly shared around. I couldn't even moan about Gavin getting out that famous map, as it was done on request and only to confirm the route, not to add twenty "surprise" miles to it.

Nice one, Willie, Cheers!         3 daft videos coming shortly...

Oh, almost forgot, I said I'd say more about Arthur's Arse, didn't I? Well, when I got home and unloaded the bike and my gear, I was met at the door of the Gollum's Cave by Mrs Gollum, who as usual wanted the full bifta on how crap the latest Reivers ride had been. She's developed that habit - Lord knows why(!). So, I filled her in on the generalities of it and showed her my front wheel, or Arthur's Arse as I've christened it. When I pointed to the damaged area, what do you think she said? "Hope you're gonna sue the ba**ard?" - nah, nowt like it. "Dear me, you'll need a new wheel now, won't you?". Well, imagine my reaction to this. I have a very dear friend who occasionally lends me money to get the things I need to survive - cars, motorbikes, mountain bikes, flared jeans etc. I call him Mr B. He's into plastics in a big way, and keeps sending me little card shaped samples with my name on. How considerate is that? Anyway, he lets me use these things instead of money, so that's what I do, much to Mrs Gollum's dismay. Mr B currently owns me, my cave, all my gear, the missus and my kids. But hey, you only live once! So I've got the All Clear to order a pair of wheels, all thanks to Arthur and his immaculate sense of balance. So Mr B has a new pair of Mavic's best winging their way to the Cave any day now. Thanks, Arthur, can I call you King?

The Ballad of Broken Rim, aka Ode to Ba**ard Arthur

They took a ride one day in Spring
8 Reivers and 2 MAC men
Our Willie led that fateful ride
How many men came back then?

Well, ten of them to be precise
But only nine were riding
Coz Arthur's Arse had struck again
Giving Golly's wheel a hiding.

Twelve hefty stones of Arthur's Arse
Had struck the Gollum's Mutha
Poor little rim just snapped in half
Quite unlike any other

The Gollum looked up at the sky
For an answer to his prayer
But even God's mechanics
Thought this damage way too rare

"We cannot help" came thundering down
The Gollum felt rebuffed
"We've never seen King Arthur's Arse"
"We reckon you are stuffed!"

So Gollum grabbed the wreckage
And began to walk away
His fellow riders laughed with glee
Another Fu**in Reivers Day!

Coming out for a ride? E-mail us bailout@midaircrisis.org.uk