You couldn't wish to meet a nicer bunch of people. otherwise why would Peter, Chris K's mate, turn out again for his second tour of punishment duty with MidAirCrisis on this weather-wise uncertain Sunday morning, 31st August 2008? Following stern warning posted on this site last weekend, there were no new or dodgy ex-riders threatening to turn out, and for once almost the whole NMBC Youth Squad showed up, with the exception of Chris D. The others of course, and bike maniacs every one, were Stevie B who'd pedalled from Longbenton, Ian F and Tim.  These are the lads you don't want behind you on a fast bit of trail. They were joined today by Chris and Peter, of course, plus Jason, Steve W who'd pedalled from Whitley Bay and a swift-pedalling Mick H who'd come all the way up from Seaburn on his bike!

They'd ridden to Golly's because this was advertised as a "local" ride. They were quite surprised, as were most others, when the Gollum announced we were to start it in Druridge Bay some 35 miles up the road! Since then I've been pondering why such a good turnout after recent surprisingly low summer ride numbers. Was it the "local" aspect that did it, and would they have been here otherwise? We called at Cramlington on the way to collect Derek, and thanks before I forget to Chris K for volunteering his car today and filling it to the brim with bodies.

We started the ride around 10:45ish as far as I recall, as it had taken a wee while to mount 9 bikes in and around the GollyMobile^® and fill Chris' car with bags and people. It was dull and grey but reasonably warm as we left the vehicles at Hauxley and headed north up the coast. We ambled through to Amble for our first stop, which was just for a quick pic outside our favourite Chippy and to regroup, though the pace was very sedate. There were even glimpses of sunshine about the place. The Quayside Market was in full swing, and Derek made a point of piloting us through the bustling shoppers and stalls - more dangerous than negotiating Hamsterley's Downhill track!

We continued out the top of the harbour onto the cycle path to Warkworth without incident before dropping down to the riverside and that lovely little kick up from the A1068 after the bridge up to the bridleways and the new Coastal Route. Just before the bridleway turns up to rejoin the roadside, there's a shot-off to the right. Looking in that direction, you'd think there was water in your way, but there is a large mound of earth to spoil the view. Anyway, young Derek decided to lead us in there, just for a change, and after a few minutes we reached what could only be described as green quicksand. The Gollum was first to test it out and just managed to avoid it reaching his axles. Derek, on the other hand, was determined to go on until even he finally had to admit that there was water, known as the River Aln, between us and the town, and there wasn't a bridge, and we didn't bring the dinghies.

So we backtracked a bit and came across a little ruined Chapel, which allowed a few minutes to contemplate what it was and who may have used it last. The Stella Artois cans laying about the place answered some of those questions. On reaching the roadside just south of Alnmouth, Derek's Armadillos let him down. After a couple of years of puncture-free riding, his rear tyre decided enough was enough. Probably doesn't help that it's as bald as a coot. When Jason inspected the carcass he discovered a handful of thorns and glass splinters embedded in it, a couple of which had made their way, finally, into the inner tube. At least it was still fair weather, and maybe we'd see the sun properly after all.

On we went, still at a reasonably relaxed pace, making our way down the nice gentle slope to Alnmouth. We regrouped again at the road bridge before trooping over it on the pavement (dodgy skinny road meant for cars) with Gollum leading the lawless ride now. Derek took over again short of the roundabout at the end of the High Street and veered left on the Boulmer road. We weren't on that very long, however, as the Coastal Path bridleway beckoned. Up we went, another short, sharp, steep click which took it's toll on poor Peter, having his second ride out and not finding this one any easier than the first last Thursday. Once we'd seen him reach the summit, it was time to move along the trail for derek to ring the warning bell to announce our arrival to the locals. This next section is really the only tester as far as bike handling skills are concerned, and one or two participants discovered a few shortcomings in their ability. Nothing unusual in that! The drop at the end stopped all but the brave few from trying the descent, and once we were assembled at the edge of the beach it was time for lunch. At least that's what a few of us thought as the nosh came out, but derek had other ideas about where we'd be stopping!

We still had a good break here then it was time to move on along this lovely beach, although most of it was lost in the mist that descended rapidly just as we left. It gave us a chance for a bit of sideways fun away from nasty rock and concrete. Shame it eats aluminium and magnesium! We carried the bikes up the steps at the far end then it was road again through Boulmer, which had been Mick's stamping ground for about 8 years in his youth, working for Her Majesty. Every time we hit the hard stuff, Jason and Mick tried to skedaddle away out front, just so difficult to keep the race-head beggars reeled in. Back now onto a short bit of single and dual until we hit the Coastal Path up to Howick before rejoining the road for the last bit into Craster. Such a shame there's a private estate between the two spots preventing a full cycle route up to the Kipper Keepers.

We camped at our usual haunt, the harbour-side pub with nice big tables out back, and took over most of the garden. Steve W acted as Mother and went in to get the drinks, cheers Steve. Before I forget, Stevie B seemed to be having some sort of abdominal pain all day, poor lad. Didn't stop him dumping off the Stumpy at least once! We stayed there quite a while to give the locals a show, and once again Jason managed to become the centre of attention as he set about repairing his Crank brothers shoe cleats. Didn't use a pint of glue this time, however. I can't remember what time we left but it must have been around 2:30 or 3:00pm.

We took the Pretty Way all the way back to Boulmer, following the Coastal Path through a few gates and over some stiles, and attracting much attention as we got closer to Alnmouth where there were quite a few walkers headed north toward us. Steve W managed to grab himself a puncture after the return run along the now swamped beach with the tide coming in very quickly. Not good for walking on. When we hit the Golf Course again Jason led with Derek and the Gollum tagging behind. Derek made the fatal mistake of uttering the magic words "Come on, young 'un, get a move on" in Jay's direction, and three seconds later we'd lost sight of the rest of the group as he sure did get a move on. This is a drag more than a climb but it must have taken the others off guard as it was a good while before we saw them again. All but Chris and Peter finally arrived at the road again on the edge of Alnmouth, so we waited, Steve B on gate duty waiting for the other two.

Nice legs, Dekker!

left this one big!

After many minutes, the Gollum headed back up the hill again and backtracked all the way back to the start of the golf course. Puff, pant, could have done without that extra bit! Meantime, derek went in the opposite direction, down into the town as they both hoped to catch sight of the missing pair. The Gollum returned to the stile and gate onto the Golf Course bridleway before heading further south where it descends into the houses, but still no sign, so he climbed yet another hill to get back to the others about 15 minutes after first getting there. We mulled around the roundabout for another ten minutes as the heavens opened with a vengeance, proving the last weather forecast spot on! Tim thought he'd caught sight of a green jacket like Peter's heading for the bridge on the road out of town, just as he'd made the gate. So we eventually decided they must have got away and set off after them. It was pretty wet now, and a few of the party hadn't bothered with rain kit, so they got extremely damp. At least they couldn't get any wetter as we made our way south again back to Warkworth. The rain stopped just before we got there so it wasn't a bad ride back into Amble, and our speed increased as the Chippy got ever nearer.

In we piled for nourishment as we wiled away another 15 minutes topping up the energy level. Then it was time for a good hard blast, with the usual suspects ripping it out front, and arriving back at the cars first to find Chris and Peter changed and packed! Relief! I've only myself to blame for losing them as I just hadn't realised a) how quickly we covered the rise up the golf course and b) just how tired Peter must have been behind us. He certainly didn't complain though, so that's twice he's been through our mangle now before really being ready for it. I'll try harder to keep tabs in future, but once again it will have to be emphasised that we come out usually for a ride, not a dawdle, and there has to be some decent pace setting or we'll need lights on Sundays aswell as Thursday nights. Aside from that there are two competitions coming up where pace is everything, and we have to train somehow, even if it is in small, erratic doses.

Anyway, we were home around 6:30pm with Mick's bike PC saying it had done 27 miles or so. Canny ride again, Derek! Oh, who's got Ian's back wheel?

Keep watching and if you fancy a ride out with us, drop us a line here: bailout@midaircrisis.org.uk