One Loose Nut

Bye-bye Summer, hello Autumn. It’s shortly after six and I have remembered to put on long fingered gloves. Not winter ones, but enough to keep the morning cold from my extremities; however, by the time that I pass the Dunstablians RUFC I start to think that wearing shorts was perhaps a bad idea too. Stopping at lights my glasses quickly steam up, and passing through dips and the lower lying parts of the county result in a wet mist building on them too. Eventually I decide that as the flies have not made a showing in the cold this morning, and the sun’s trying to burn through the mist, the glasses can sit on top of my helmet for a while.

First stop is Marston Moreteyne (or Martson Moretaine as Google has it). Take a look in the photo gallery if you want to see the full sized pictures showing the extent of the mist. I then double back up the hill to Millbrook, before heading East to cross Ampthill and out to Maulden.

On higher ground the mist is clear and it a fabulously sunny morning. Whilst Meppershal is do-able, I’ve got a wedding to get to and a few things to do before. I am on instructions to be back by 9am so I head south to Greenfield to avoid Ampthill and Flitwick again.

Today’s map has been recorded on sportstrackerlive as MapMyRide was proving unreliable. I’ll post an update on how it went later, but have a look at the map link below to see what it records.

36.5 miles – 2 hours 22 minutes – 15.4 mph average – Map

If you’ve been wondering about the lack of posts it has been that time of year where a holiday without the bike has stopped any progress. Back at home on Saturday and all the good plans to get back in the saddled are, if I was truthful, delayed as the next village is Little Staughton: 31 miles and North of Bedford. Warn out I opt for a lie-in and postpone until today. The problem is that doing the one village works out to 62 miles. Adding the next two only adds on another 10 miles.

Up at 6am (no longer is it light at 5am) I head off up the road in the cool of the morning at 6.30, instantly regretting not wearing my fingerless gloves. I persevere and within 5 miles there’s enough heat to keep me warm. The roads are quiet and my usual route through Flitwick and Ampthill goes without issue. This time of the morning is the best time to see Bedford: too late for the revelers to still be up, but too early for anyone else to be around.

The route to Little Staughton takes me back through Colmworth (where I note that they have taken heed of my post and purchased a new sign). I’m now so far north in Bedfordshire I’m concerned that I may pick up a new accent (or a nose bleed at least).

Little Staughton has no remarkable features, but I note a campsite with swings – handy for the next break or weekend away.

I u-turn and head south through Colmworth again, but this time heading through Great Barford and Blunham. Blunham is hosting an attempt to get a world record for playing the longest game of cricket (see http://www.blunhamcc.20m.com/record/index.html), but as cricket’s not my bag I carry on. The route to Lower Stondon takes me through Beeston, Upper and Lower Caldecote – all places that bring back memories of the earlier (and colder) routes in the year.

Lower Stondon can’t come quick enough. The wind is building from the west and buffeting me constantly from the side. Average speed is dropping, and despite the different approach from the A600, there’s nothing to excite in the village.

Riding through the 50-mile barrier I realise that this is currently my limit and anything after the 50 miles starts to see my legs turn jelly-like. Not helped by the route from Stondon to Barton being westerly and into the head wind. From Barton it’s up hill on the A6 and down into Luton where I stop at the first town sign.

I note two things from the sign: 1) it has a coat of arms stating “Scientle et Labori Detur” (which I think loosely translates into You’d be Better Off Making a Detour); and, 2) that Luton is the “Home of the Mall” – formerly know as “The Arndale Centre”. Oddly there’s a strap line of “Shopping how it should be.” I didn’t realise that they had moved it to Milton Keynes.

I could (and should) have made a bee-line to Dunstable from here, but felt that this would not be in the spirit of visiting the towns and villages of Bedfordshire and free-wheel most of the way down into the Town Centre, enjoying the ability to use the bus lanes right into the centre of town. I even get to cycle through the pedestrianised area as this is a part of the NCR 51. Oddly, I choose to go to Dunstable via Chapel Street and over the hill through Caddington, but it was probably the more traffic-free route of the two choices.

72.6 miles – 4 hours 56 minutes – 14.7 mph – Map

With the lack of saddle time the first few miles of this morning’s ride seemed harder than usual. That said, riding up the hill to Toddington and I noted that whilst I still avoid hills where possible, getting up them now is easy enough. Through Toddington and down Long Lane towards Tingrith and I can hear noise from the front dangly bits. The front crank seems to be out of true. I don’t recall dropping the bike on that side. Perhaps some has knocked it over in the garage. A little further on and I stop for a quick peek: the crank nut is loose – that makes for two loose nuts on one bike.

To carry on, or not to carry on? That is the question. I bet the bard didn’t have this problem with his bike. I am about 12 miles into an estimated 30 mile ride. I can’t turn back now. I could call Mrs OLN, but I’ll probably guess the wrong size, or possible don’t have the right tool in the box. The cycle tool didn’t cover this size of nut. I manage to tighten it a little and head off with the idea of finding someone on  Sunday morning working on their car that I can borrow the tool from.

My first attempt is a fail. An old man at Tingrith who tells me that his son would have tools, but he’s gone out. I think he’s lying – all pre-war OAPs have a full selection of tools at their disposal. Perhaps I should have converted it from 8mm into something he’d understand, like three-eights?

I get somewhat lost over the next few turns. Nothing major, but can’t remember the actual route I should be taking. Eventually I head up a small lane that should spit me out at Lidlington. And so it did, but not before taking me for a mile or so off roading. Now some of you may enjoy such an excursion, but with 25c road tyres (akin to slicks) and last night’s rain, things were getting hard. Ahead are two MTB-ers and visions of sailing past on a road bike soon disappeared with them as they ride off into the woods. Eventually, back on the main road I head in the wrong direction for a mile before realising my mistake and heading back from where I came.

It’s car boot day in Lidlington at the top of the hill and cars queue patiently from both approaches – blocking the road. I meander through the traffic and head down the hill into Lidlington, stopping at the far side for a photo.

Photo done I head back up the hill only to see, hidden by a fence when coming down the hill, the proper sign. I stop again for another photo and an argument with MapMyRide which is now out on Android – and it’s crashed twice already.

There’s only one problem with Lidlington: that steep downhill that was a joy to come down has to be repeated in reverse. I tighten my nut again and head up to the top (once again surprised by the relative ease). They’re still queuing into the car boot as I pass and head off towards Ridgmont and Woburn. I stop at the park entrance in the hope that I can cycle through, but see a big “no cycling” sign and can’t be bothered to read whether it applies to the whole park – but at the same time can’t understand why they would allow cars but not bikes. I skirt around the outside down the worst road surface in Bedfordshire to find that a 300m patch has been resurface with those horrible stone chippings.

Wary of the loose nut coming loose again I take it easy through Woburn, down to the A5, through Heath and Reach and into Leighton Buzzard. The roads are getting busier now and I am miffed by car drivers who overtake cyclists only to have to slam on their brakes for the traffic in front (only to be overtaken by the cyclist). Crazy car drivers.

A quick photo stop and nut tightening session in Lindslade and I u-turn again back through Leighton Buzzard High Street, held up by slow 4×4′s and a driver who held me up at the t-junction by not indicating that he was turning left. It’s time for me to get home and out of this traffic.

Eventually I make it back without the crank coming off. Oddly I don’t have the tool to fix it so I head off to Halfords who won’t sell the one tool – you have to buy a set. No thanks.

Whilst the ride has been a slow one, I am rewarded with the passing of another target: 45000 ft climbed in one year. Another one off the list.

37.5 miles – 2 hours 41 minutes – 14.0 mph average – Map

Bad day at work? Sun still shining? Then it’s back in the saddle again. This time it’s a few local towns/villages.

I head west from home, down the hill to Tottenhoe and out through Eaton Bray and the flats of Aylesbury Vale. Through Slapton and the sun’s already setting behind clouds on the horizon and it’s not long before I am in Ledburn. More of a pub than a village, and the pub looked a bit quiet too. I stop, take the photo, curse at Google as it stopped recording my route on My Tracks about three miles back, then head off towards Leighton Buzzard.

It’s not far to Leighton B. Strange place really. Not far from home, but somewhere I rarely visit. No reason to, but as I ride past through the town I respect any town that has a pub called “The Office”. You can imagine getting home: “Where have you been?” – “Oh, I got stuck in The Office love.”

There’s a notable lack of town signs around and I have already looked on Streetview to see if I could find one without success; hence the use of the bus stop board for the photo:

Leaving the town on the Stanbridge Road there are two posts where a sign once was. Perhaps someone has taken them home for some reason?

I can’t be bothered with looping back around to Eaton Bray via Billington, nor Stanbridge, instead opting for the busier A505 and A5 back into Dunstable. It’s getting dark, but it seems like a faster route back. It’s now getting darker still, lights are on, and there’s a few people clearly heading out to the pub for the evening. Me? I’m heading for a shower.

22.5 miles – 1 hour 24 minutes – 15.9 mph average – Map

PS. My Tracks reckons that I hit 54 mph. Cool – but not true (honest Mum).

Feeling that this 114 towns lark is never going to happen is not good for you. If I am going to do it by the end of the year I need to get used to riding in the dark or get a move on whilst summer is still here. So after work I hit the roads to Langford. What could have been an extra 10 miles on Saturday’s ride is going to be a 40 mile journey tonight. So with lights bolted to the bike I head off with my new Android OS and My Tracks – Google’s mapping software for the phone that I have been playing with.

I cut through the rush hour traffic with little problem and get onto the A6 north of Luton, down to Barton, and across country to Henlow. It rains on me a couple of times, but nothing much, followed by a burst of sun and rainbow. Quiet picturesque really against the backdrop of dark grey clouds.

I reach Langford and keep peddling. It feels like I have almost left the back end of the village before I find the sign.

I stop for a drink, check My Tracks. The stats are good: 18 mph average (moving); mileage similar to the bike computer; elevation on a different planet to my usual source. I put in a marker so that I can compare the homeward bound journey for times and head into the wind to return home.

The return ride is good, but with the failing light the nocturnal Luton Massive hit the streets in their mum’s Saxos and Focus. One, with four of them inside, pass and shout out of the window at me. I don’t know what they said. This was repeated a little while later by another with the same inaudible message. It all pales into insignificance when a brand new silver Astra pulls out from the left of a roundabout. I wouldn’t mind but I had two front lights on and reflective clothing. As I had pre-empted his move I was already on the brakes and moving wide, but close enough to bellow a “Oi!!!” through his window. I’m not too sure if his expression was one of surprise or heart attack as the driver in his 60′s continues his journey away from me.

Back home I am bemused and somewhat disappointed that My Tracks stopped recording somewhere two miles south of Langford. Bloody apps. I’ll give it another go on the next run to see how it goes.

Now with Langford out of the way there’s a few local trips that I might be able to squeeze in before the weekend ahead…

41.9 miles – 2 hours 37 – 16 mph average (cool) – Map

No. Not one related to the football season started, but another goal crossed of the list. This time it’s the number of hours in the saddle. One hundred hours in the saddle passed silently today and without ceremony. I can’t be absolutely sure where it happened as the GPS played up but it would have been somewhere on the B660 Kimbolton Road, probably where I lost half of my paraphernalia out of my back pockets onto the road. Fortunately my multi-tool was missed by two passing cars. As for the big one hundred? Well my derrière hurts today post-ride, but I think that this may be to do with the lack of riding followed by a big ride, although I could be wrong.

The day was always going to be a tough one: lots of family things to do and a deadline to be back home by 1030 or loose body parts. I want to do Keysoe and Langford as I am woefully behind on the villages for the year and clearing all by Christmas is looking bleak, but if I do the two it will be a 70 to 75-mile loop and with the aforementioned risk of losing limbs. So at 05:15 I am in the saddle with dawn only just breaking (where did the summer go?). To add to the darkness it’s been raining too and upwards rain will be a problem. It’s not long before downward rain becomes a problem too and at J12 of the M1 I stop top put on a jacket. I would like to say that it was a waterproof, but it really would not last more than a shower – it’s the added Dayglo that I need so that still-asleep drivers with windscreen wipers going have some chance of seeing me.

North of Ampthill the rain stops and I begin to dry. Bedford Burger King is still as it was over a month ago with no signs of being knocked down or repaired. In Bedford I am overtaken by a Farmfoods lorry (trailer reference T160). As we approach traffic lights and a left hand turn he decides to overtake. Now I am wary of the limited views that HGV’s have and the blindspots down the left, but this guy (or girl) passes, then turns left and can’t see where I am. I put on my brakes to prevent being a statistic and make a mental note not to shop at Farmfoods for a while.

On the road to Kimbolton it seems like a long time since I was this way cycling to Colmworth. My mind drifts into work, home, and all manner of thoughts. There’s little else to keep me entertained. Eventually I reach Keysoe.

A quick drink and check the phone. The GPS is showing Network Error. I seem to be getting this more often now and it’s either the app or Orange (or Android). I restart it, think of going to Langford, but decide that a 60-mile out and back may be enough for me today.

As I ride down the B660 I fumble around for my phone in the pocket and feel something drop out. I park the bike in front of a Driving Instructor’s Mini before running back down the road for my raincoat bag and multi-tool – both missed by passing traffic. Back at the bike it would appear the instructor is trying to find his client who is either still sleeping or has gone away for the weekend forgetting to cancel his lessons. The instructor lets me know that they pay regardless of whether they wake or not.

South of Bedford I pass a MTB’er: me on the road; he’s on the cycle path. As is the norm I offer English pleasantries but no response is forthcoming. Strange. Perhaps bike snobbery is at play. A mile later an I sense someone’s behind me. Close behind. It’s the MTB’er, still not talking but obviously wanting to mug me or overtake me. I put it onto the big front ring and pull away slowly. Very strange.

I am glad that I didn’t go for the extra town. Since Bedford my right knee is beginning to ache. I crawl up the hill before Ampthill and every incline thereafter. Never enough pain to get off, but almost walking speeds coming into Toddington. I coast down the hill to Bidwell and Houghton where I am greeted with a sudden downpour. Best part of 40 miles of drying out only to be soaked again as I am three miles from home. Damn. Still, at least I have my body parts.

59.9 miles – 4 hours 8 minutes – 14.5 mph average – Map