Well there I was. On top of the Slieve Blooms on a fine day. Sun shining, only a light breeze and, oh yeah, a 5 mile drag up from Clonaslee. They call it "The Cut" and it is well named. Fair play to Rob (aka Alberto Contador) First up the hill and never let up on the pace. The hard work had been done and I felt the need, the need for speed. Newton was right, what goes up must come down. But I wasn't an apple (maybe bananna's). So off I went, shifted up through the gears and gave the brakes a little tickle, just in case. Surface wasn't too bad but after a couple hundred meters and some tight cornering my drink bottle decided it was every man for himself and baled out. So on went the brakes, hard and around came the back wheel. I was like one of those nutters on tv sliding the back of their motorbike around the corner of a dirt track. Only one problem, I was going downhill on a grainy road and my tyres were slicks and there were no bales of hay conveniently placed on the side of the road. Any way I eventually came to a stop with my bike in one piece and my bibs still dry. Off I went to retrieve my mutinous bottle.
Murt (aka Mark Cavendish) flies by and I think that everything is rosy. Rob, Trish, Dermot, James and Simon all make their way past and this is where i realise that my poor bike is not looking too healthy. You guessed it, the back tyre looks like the last pancake in the pot on shrove tuesday. Not a problem, ever the boyscout I reach for my spare tube. Willie and Brian stop by to give me a hand. So one tube steps aside and another tube is called up for duty. We all get ready for the rest of the descent but my front tyre obviously felt left out with all the tlc that the back tyre was getting and you guessed it, double blow out. At least it was not raining, or getting dark and there were no wolves sniffing about.
Brian very kindly offers me his spare tube and we whip out the old tube in very short order (we are getting good at this) and Willie gets pumping. The tyre feels good and hard but the valve decides to do a harry houdini and is nowhere to be seen. Willie steps up to the mark with his spare tube and we whip out Brians tube and slip in Willies and bob is your uncle. However uncle bob does not want to party and the tyre remains as flat as 7UP in a hospital, despite Willies best efforts. Off comes the tyre again and we spy a good sized hole in the tube near the valve. Eagle scout has a puncture repair kit and after a bit of sandpaper, glue and rubber we get pumping again and hallelujah we have a serviceable bike again. We say a hail mary to be on the safe side, at least I did!
So off we go. Taking it handy. Enough drama for one day. So we are rolling, rolling, rolling but no rawhide. Instead the rims on my front wheel are precariously close to the road. The repair did not hold and we don't have any more tubes. I have a second bite at repairing the hole. Willie has gone on but Brian comes back (up the hill). Top Man. We decide that I am not cycling back to Portlaoise unless I want to try a world record attempt at a wheelie. Brian goes on and arrangements will be made to pick me up. I get down the hill on two wheels and then with my front tyre on its last legs, the tube finally buys the farm and there will be no resurrection. Well God gave me legs so off I go walking in my cleats. There is a good reason why cleats are made for pedals and not for walking. Mine now look like a dog was chewing on them.
Fair play to Willie. His sister, Julie, is picking up his car and coming to get me despite having a family confirmation to attend. I keep walking and several cars drive by. Not one of them stops and asks if perchance I might need help. This would be the time for an expletive but I will keep it clean. As I pass a caravan on the side of the road a nice old chap called Ivor asks me in and offers me spud and turnips. I take advantage of his nice heated caravan but avoid the root vegetables. He looked like he needed it more than I did. The cavalry arrives and we're off back to the Port of Laoise. Thanks be to God. I would not have fancied trying to give the better half directions to a forest in the Slieve Blooms.
Why am I going on so much? Well lads and lasses there are lessons to be learned and I hope someone else benefits from my experience and hopefully avoids it themselves. Firstly it is a group cycle so stick together. Save the roadrunner stuff for races. Secondly keep your bike in good working order. Check the tyres, brakes, gears and steering before you ride everytime. Thirdly carry a pump, tyre forks and several tubes. Fourthly carry a phone and make sure you have your buddies numbers. Fifthly always keep an eye on numbers and the person at the back of the group.
Thanks again to Brian, Willie and Julie. I hope the confirmation went very well.
Dave
