Wednesday 16 July 2008

Mizen to Malin Head the Irish End to End 2008








In mid-June Barry Gregory with Mick and Gavin Ayliffe rode the Irish End to End, south to north, about 500 miles in 8 days. As you can see from the photos the weather was generally chilly and damp but the journey was trouble free until with 10 miles to go Gavin shed a spoke and so buckled his back wheel that it would not turn. Luck of the Irish? A farmer replaced the spoke and trued the wheel for him so he could complete the ride.

Barry Gregory's 70th Birthday




Barry Gregory celebrated his 70th birthday with a tea party at Brooklands. It was a smashing afternoon with a mixture of family, work colleaugues and bike riders all wishing him well. The museum was open for us to visit too. Denbo's Mum featured alongside Barbara Cartland and two Clarencourt lads of yester year, Gordon Robins and Alec Watkins got a mention in the results of a race held there in 1935!

Bastille Day Ride 2008








We had a good turnout for the Bastille Day ride that fell on a Monday this year. Our usual pub was shut but at short notice we were made welcome for lunch at the Hollist Inn at Lodsworth. After a late start from Ellens Green we followed the usual back lanes route to the top of the South Downs for coffee at the top of Bury Hill. Then it was on, up and down, around Goodwood race course to West Dean and over onto the South Harting road. We seem to have lost our ability to make up lost time over the years and so we chose the easy route through Midhurst to Lodsworth which turned out to be no shorter (although much easier.) Fortunately the confusion over which pub we were stopping at did not prevent Chris Law, Jim Harwood and Robin Potter from joining up with us there. Suitably sustained we returned to Ellens Green through Gospel Green, Shillinglee and Dunsfold. The weather had been superb for cycling, the countryside as beautiful as ever and a good fete day was enjoyed by all. We'd ridden 77 miles at a speed best not remembered. Grateful thanks to the Blessed Caroline Harrison who in the evening invited us to her place for food and drinks, where we were joined by other celebrants unable to join the ride.

Saturday 12 July 2008

St Ybard 2008 Saturday

What a smashing final day for this year’s trip. Late on a fine morning Norman and Mick took a short potter through the up and down lanes of the 10 miles to Pompadour via St Martin-Sepert and St Pardoux-Corbier taking photos along the way.

They arrived at 1230 for a fine salad lunch accompanied by a pichet of chilled Rose wine. As they were enjoying their coffee, Trevor, Martin and Paul arrived from Lubersac and Segur-le-Chateau, one of the prettiest villages in the Haute Vienne. They had been delayed by a Trevor puncture and the difficulties of trying to replace the 700 c inner tube with a much-patched one from a mountain bike - one of Trevor’s specials and in the true tradition of Mick O’Brien. Before the All Stars had finished their lunch the two Old Contemptibles departed for the flatter route home along D70 and D155. They were caught and passed near Le Grand Brugeron but all five arrived home about 3.20 just as the heavens opened and today’s stage of the Tour de France came on the tele. Perfect timing, perfect timing. Housekeeper Denbo was beating the carpets on the line in traditional Old Mother Reilly fashion and bemoaning a housewife’s lot and got the sympathy he so richly deserved. The lads in the tour were also experiencing heavy rains around Toulouse but that didn’t stop our new hero, Mark Cavendish, from producing the goods with another fine stage win. Like you, we all shared in the glory. Only we had the last pints of Paul’s St Ybard 2008 brew with which to celebrate. Now we’re doing little packing and clearing up bits before we walk down to the Hotel St Roche in the village for an end of term dinner tonight. We’ll dink a toast to your health. The plan is to leave early (Denbo’s car) and later (Trev’s lot) tomorrow morning for the long drive home and to arrive about midnight your time. This doesn’t give much time before we meet at Ellens Green at 8.30 Monday morning for the Bastille Day Ride. On verra – we shall see!

2hrs 28mins, 32.5 miles, 13.1mph, 1536 cals, 65rpm, 133bpm. Remember to let Caroline know 07956 453054 if you are calling at her place on Monday night to remember 1789 and to take a glass for the Republic.

Vive la France, Vive la Republique, Vive Le Clarencourt!
Are you the falconer ?

Friday 11 July 2008

St Ybard 2008 Friday

During the night we had a heavy thunderstorm with lightning, crashing and banging, the electricity tripped, hailstones bombarding the roof and windows; you couldn’t even hear Denbo snoring. Today has been overcast and we decided not to drive a long way to watch the tour. We have spent the day on domestic duties, reading, snoozing and idly chatting. The bikes stayed in the barn. Absolutely lovely and my legs don’t hurt at all.

Martin and Trevor have worked hard to complete installation of the new outside door to the bathroom, which should have earned them a mega-housepoints bonus. Trevor is just filling the voids around the new door frame with an expanding mousse – I believe the 500mls can expand to completely fill the whole bathroom so we may never see him again. Norman, Den, Martin and Paul visited Super-U on a shopping expedition this afternoon and went up to The Bowler for a beer. In their absence Trevor had a tidy up and found some rotten apples and mouldy mushrooms. Paul and Denbo are currently bickering over cooking them in a 16 egg omelette for supper I think. Oh Dear, it’s all go isn’t it?

Thursday 10 July 2008

St Ybrd 2008 Thursday

We hope you enjoyed Cav’s win yesterday. I didn’t get an Equipe today to see how it was received but the commentator on France 2, speaking just after the finish yesterday, managed to give Mr Bean and the Isle of Man TT a mention but I didn’t pick up anything about Her Gracious Majesty.

Today was supposed to be a rest day, with a short ride this morning and a snooze by the lake this afternoon. Some hopes! We’ve been coming here for 6 years and each year we’ve noted, on a turning not far from here, a small signpost depicting a black silhouette of a bird flying across a setting sun between two hillsides. “Probably a bird sanctuary or Bird of Prey Centre,” we’d decided. We’ve seen many birds of prey this week so what better way to fill a rest day morning than a bike ride to the falconry? Into the narrow lane we turned and after a further kilometre left again into an even narrower one. Finally it petered out into a track and there was a sign inviting us to garage our car in the car park and proceed to reception if we pleased. The car park had quite a few cars in it, many old bangers and we weaved our way through them to regain the track where we turned right again. On the corner there was a strange chap picking away at his Blackberry in Christina fashion, dressed in only a towel and that slung across his shoulders. Unperturbed we gave him a polite “Bon Jour!” and descended steeply into a water mill complex where were sat five people having their coffee round an outdoor table – all stark bollock naked.
“Hello,” said their leader over his shoulder, in a distinctly Flemish accent, “what do you want here?”

At moments like these one prays for an appropriate repost but all that came out was, “We want to see the birds of prey, are you the falconer?” I ask you. “Are you the falconer?” Is that what you usually ask a naked man you meet by accident in the open air? “Falconer? Falconer? No, I am not the falconer. This is a naturist centre. Did you not see the notice?” “Well, yes,” I pleaded, “But nature to you means taking your clothes off; to us it means falcons diving out of the sky onto bunny rabbits.” We left in a hurry and laughed all the way back to the main road.
Next stop was the bottom of the Vizere Gorge below Estivaux, a place we have visited many times before. It was still impressive but at the top we had a brief shower and Mick decided to miss out on La Roche and to meet his companions further round the loop at Sadroc – without a map.

This is where things started to fall apart. Mick found Sadroc eventually but never arrived at the cafe. Using his sense of direction he headed north on D920. Eventually the three musketeers arrived at the Sadroc café and phoned Mick to gloat that they were in the café and he had the hunger knock 5 miles north. At about 3 o’clock Mick staggered into a roadside bar and restaurant and asked in his best French for something to eat. “English?” the charming damsel replied in a Liverpool accent, “ham sandwich and a beer do you?” Thus he sat under a sunshade outside, ate, drank, slept and recovered while he waited for the others to come along to meet him. The Liverpool lass, Sian, with her husband Brian had been at the Hotel Bariolet on D920 just north of Perpezac le Noir for 18 months making a go of the business. Pizzas too!
We said we’d give them a plug so if you ever want a stop off motorway A20 between Junction 45 and 46 for a meal or overnight rooms then give Hotel Bariolet a call:- Hotel du Bariolet, Le Bariolet, 19410 Perpezac le Noir, 00 44 555 73 74 09 sianconnell@gmail.com

It was now well late and Denbo and Norman had got fed up waiting for us at the lake and returned home. We got there at 4.30 in time to see the finish of the tour on the TV in the café before limping tiredly home. After supper Trevor and Martin fitted the new door to the bathroom. We’re not sure if we will drive 100 miles tomorrow to see the tour stage finish at Aurillac or go for a ride. Not another rest day!

4hrs 1 min, 47 miles, 11.6 mph, 2452 calories, cad 61, av bpm 139, climbing 3,136 metres.

Wednesday 9 July 2008

St Ybard 2008 Wednesday

Lizards everywhere today, it was their sort of day, hot, sunny and dry, hooray, very good for riding a bike too. Everyone was up and jumping into their kit at sparrow fart, tyres pumped up, charts consulted and we were off shortly after 10. Norman decided to have a solo ride west to Pompadour, a round trip of about 40kms, which must make this his highest weekly mileage for a year. Mick O’Brien sent him a congratulatory text message. Denbo busied himself around the estate all day doing good works, delivering barrels of rotten apples to the peasants, that sort of thing. Trevor, Paul, Martin and Mick set off north and after the first long steady climb out of the village towards junction 44 on the motorway they enjoyed the good surface and modest gradients of the old main road, now virtually free of traffic. At Masseret we detoured up into the village to show Martin the tower and the hotel where Mick is always saying he is going to take Sheila but never has. Then it was onto the D20, another beautifully surfaced main road without traffic, to Meilhards to the café-restaurant we found the other day for coffee and Diablo de Menthe. The owner recognized us, the family think they’ve recruited some more regulars. There are two perfectly good yellow road routes from here to Treignac but that was much too simple for Tracker Trev. Before we knew it we were off the beaten track again, up hill and down dale, through no-mans-land until we finally emerged north-east of Treignac. We descended to the big roundabout then did a few kilometres on the D940 to the Lac des Barriousses for an excellent lakeside snack lunch. Mick had had enough by then and since he had a feeling that the tour stage finish at Chateauroux might be young Mark Cavendish’s best chance of a stage win this year he took the main road back to Le Lonzac then crossed to Eyburie and down past the prison to Uzerche – the road he had raced along with Terry Pearce in the Tour of Correze 46 years ago! Sad bugger. Still it was all for a good cause. He was installed in front of the TV in The Bowler Hat bar with a beer in his hand with just 40kms to go to the stage finish. What a thrilling finale it was and the old chap had the feeling that he was influential in Cav’s fine win. Well done my old son!

After that exhausting afternoon Mick limped back up the hill home to arrive only a few minutes before the return of the All Stars who went straight for the water spring (see pic). The house was silent, Norman and Denbo were resting their eyelids for a few minutes – but not for much longer! The big hitters had headed north from the lunchtime lake into territory previously un-pedalled by the Clarencourt. As later described, this involved two climbs like White Downs only unsurfaced which led up to Lestards and finally up to the day’s target of Suc-au-Mey at 908 metres. Then it was back home via Chamboulive and Espartignac at a hell of a lick with several stops for Trevor to check their whereabouts. Now they are Barbying the duck for supper before the evening's Tour programme starts on the TV. They haven’t been told the stage result yet. Don’t miss it lads. There will be a few glasses quaffed tonight eh?

5hrs 27 mins, 65.9 miles, 12mph av, 3630 calories, 130 bpm av, cad 61, 5,200 metres climbed.

Tuesday 8 July 2008

St Ybard 2008 Tuesday

We started with good news from Belgium. Barry reported that the Barclay Boys won the young rider jersey, they had a stage win and won the team prize in the 4-day. It’s good to know that we are not the only ones sacrificing our young bodies for the reputation of the nation. Poor old Mick O’Brien had to wait 4 hours to see a doctor at St Georges yesterday.

We awoke to another damp and chilly morning which dampened our ardour for the 30 mile bike ride to Suc-au-Mey which was on our menu for today. By 11 o’clock we had at least got our kit on, but decided to revert to the lunch menu at Le Dolmen at Espartignac, our favourite local restaurant. Trevor devised a “loop” via the Cascades du Berliet and Vigeois that would see us arrive at Espartignac at 1230. So it would have, if it hadn’t been for three punctures in 15 miles. The weather was improving all the while and Denbo rode Trevor’s mountain bike directly to lunch and had an hour to wait for us; not that he complained – much. The Big Eat started at 1.45 and finished at 3 o’clock veg soup, croque monsieur, steak and herbed chips, a massive cheese board, varied desserts, coffee and Vin de Pays rouge ad lib later. Paul wishes it to be recorded that he did not eat any meat and Martin that he only ate fruit. We rolled back into Uzerche along the old railway track where Norman and Den climbed straight back to HQ and the rest retired to the “Bowler ‘at” for a beer and to watch the tour’s TT on TV. A couple of hours later they clambered up out of the Vizere valley homewards. Trevor and Mick stopped for a nice talk with Gerard, the farmer, who assured us he would come tomorrow to mow the field and filled us in on the local wild life, He is the President of the local hunting society, a true man of the country and very interesting too. We had been very impressed yesterday with the numerous sightings we’d had of buzzards and we returned to the cottage to consult the dictionaries to verify that Gerard had been telling us about pointers, retrievers, the use of Airedale terriers to hunt foxes, wild boar, hares, rabbits, deer and Ardennais working horses. What a marvellous thing a bicycle is for getting around.

For Bryan Staples, 2hrs 25 mins, 25.1 miles, 10.5mph, 1435 calories, cad 57, av bpm 122. No metres of climbing recorded but, whatever it was, it was too much.

Monday 7 July 2008

St Ybard 2008 Monday

Sheltering from the rain

Yesterday it rained all morning but dried up a bit in the afternoon but it was chilly. But the Clarencourt are a tough lot of old bike riders so they devoted the afternoon to active participation in sport after a meagre but adequate luncheon. First they watched the whole of the British Grand Prix on TV. They were a bit disappointed that in his victory speech the young lad gave no credit to the helpful suggestions he had received from the settee at St Ybard throughout the afternoon. Anyway well done Lewis! Silverstone was wet and cold so at tea time we lit the log stove to give ourselves a bit of comfort during the last 45kms of the Tour de France stage won in fine style by Credit Agricole’s Thor Hushovd at St Brieuc. You might have thought a F1 GP and a Tour de France stage would be enough for one day. But No! Hardly had we regained our breath in Brittany we were off to Wimbledon to compete in the longest men’s final ever at Wimbledon.

Fortunately there were a couple of interruptions for rain which allowed our brave boys to devour our steak and curried rice prepared by master chef Paul Martin and his boy Denbo and to swig down a swift pint of St Ybard 2008 from master brewer Paul Martin, the very same. We were rooting for Federer ‘cos he was the oldest but sportingly admitted at the end that the best man won. At 1030pm our time after an exhausting day of sport on the settee Mick kicked his companions off his bed and we all went to beddy-byes. Tired little boys all and not a pedal turned.

Today up betimes, cloudy but no rain, yet! So a quick breakfast, the mini-market wasn’t open today, and out on the treaders at the unearthly hour of 1015 for Mick, Norman, Trevor, Martin and Paul. How good to have Uncle Norman back in the saddle with us. Not that his return was without incident. Barely 5kms from home descending to the Uzerche road at a brisk pace the Hound of the Baskervilles sensed our approach and sprinted from a house above the road at full pelt to cut us off. Our leader had plenty of space but with each successive arrival the distance between Bonzo and bike diminished until the beast was firmly established in the path of Norman who adroitly disappeared up a side street, while the dog’s owner persuaded his pooch back into his kennel. Unperturbed, Norman continued to battle with his first hills for a year to arrive a Meilhards where we were extremely lucky to find a working man’s café open for lunch – this is France on a Monday remember. Our host produced massive, and very hard, sandwiches and coffees for us. This was the only place we saw all day where we could have bought refreshment, or anything else, come to mention it! At lunch we had good news from Belgium in a text message from Barry telling of a stage win and team victory for the Barclay Boys in the stage race in which he was mechanicing. Shortly after lunch Norman turned for home alone and the other four continued to Mont Gargon a peak of 2000ft with a steep and finally unsurfaced approach to an open top with wide views all around, an orientation table and a ruin. Up here there was the first of six memorials to resistance fighter of the Maquis from 1944 that we were to see during the afternoon. We were in the depth of rural Limousin unchanged for years past, “Courage”, “Allez Pou Pou” and even “Allez Bobet” were encouragements that we received along the isolated roads. Having circumnavigated Mont Gargon we wended our way back to Condats with a bit of fun when Trevor’s front wheel started to fall apart downhill. No problem. Finally we crossed the Uzerche road to St Ybard. Norman had found his way home OK and Denbo had spent the day shopping and preparing the best Spag Bol we had ever tasted. Then it was S,S,S&S, evening meal, watch Samuel Dumoulin win at Nantes from the first break of the Tour to succeed this year. Then it was Lance Armstrong science on the TV for an hour and here’s ours – 49 miles, 4hrs 13 mins, 4,500ft, 731 metres high point, 2,960 calories, cadence 60, 160bpm, 33mph, 11.8mph! Impressed? No, neither are we.

Sunday 6 July 2008

St Ybard 2008 Friday - Sunday


Fri July 4th.
Six of us in our two cars arrived at Trevor’s, 534 miles from Cheam, within
minutes of each other despite using different crossings and unexpected traffic delays around Orleans. Our thanks to solo drivers Trevor and Denbo. After boisterous greetings, storing of bikes in barn and getting bedding arrangements fixed we drove into Uzerche for an excellent meal at Restaurant Charmant which was new to us. Well fed and wined we returned to bed about 11 o’clock. What a joy to have Norman back in our number!

Saturday 5th July
Up late and lazy to bright warm sunshine with a domestic morning in Brive planned, Denbo and Martin went down to the bakers and came back to report that the figure of the young lady in the mini-market was even better than last time. Mr Fixit Shaw had already moved the wardrobe from the kitchen to the bedroom, rehung the door, erected the swimming pool in the field and had it filling from the spring before we left for the big city – Denbo at 50 mph and Trevor twice as fast. Petrol, Decafflon, window blinds, banister rails, lunch and provisioning for the week (and Norman did his for Christmas) before a return to base camp. More dossing, dozing and jobbing before the afternoon’s ride down to the lake at Vigeois started at 5.15pm for Merckx, Lemond, Roberts and Ambrosio. There is no flat route out of St Ybard our legs reminded us but on the other hand we were passed by only eight cars in the 2 hours ride. Action for the day was ending when we arrived at the Lac de Pancherac except for a few kids still swimming around and playing in the water. Back (uphill!) to the cottage where Denbo and Norman were sitting on chairs outside in the evening sun, reading. What a lovely rural couple – been married for years I expect. Paul drew the first few pints from the 20 litres of fine bitter he had brewed in Wallington and declared it had travelled well. So we all had our first pint of Martin’s St Ybard 2008. More mucking about with TV, video machine, Tour de France and all stations in between while Paul started to cook the evening meal and Denbo started barbying the sausages. How does he do it? Supper came up just as Alejandro Valverde sprinted up the hill at Plumelec for a fine win in the first stage of the tour. A handsome repast out in the garden ended in the dark with full tummies and a couple of empty wine bottles before we retired for the night on a brilliantly star-filled night. Tomorrow 75 miles to Chasteaux south of Brive.

Sunday 6th July
During the night it started to rain heavily and it is still raining as we approach midday. So another morning dossing about, discussing building plans, telling Trev what he should do with his house, reading about fat burning, taking a two hour breakfast and typing up the Blog - for six hours. Are you getting the picture? Who would think we were highly trained athletes?