Well it's that time again, when I pen my account of the annual bike event which I've now taken part in for 36 consecutive years. I don't think there will be many who can equal it to be honest, not that it's that big a deal for me in terms of ego, but I do take a pride in having stuck with it all these years and raised some funds for Three Owls into the bargain. At the start of this year's event, which left from the Lowry Piazza in Salford Quays, I got into conversation with another rider who knew a man who had done all of the rides ( I think I missed one or two). I'd love to meet him to swap stories of liniment, grazes and punctures!

                 I prepared for  this year's event in my customary manner-no training to speak of and blind faith in my ability to get home alive! as I've said many times, it isn't a scientific method or one I would recommend to someone who hadn't done such a distance before, but for some reason it seems to work for me and I'm still here!

            I set my alarm for 4.25 am on Sunday morning to give myself lots of time to get ready without stress (who am I kidding, there's always stress at the start of this event!)I'd preplanned the breakfast and the food for the tortoises, so moved with military precision  to save delays (I didn't say which military however!). I'd previously gone through the bike with a fine tooth comb, I probably should have used a spanner and wrenches but a tooth comb is cheaper).The bike was probably in considerably better shape than I was, and had had grease applied in places it didn't know it had.

            I on the other hand was ungreased and clad in figure hugging Lycra shorts and top (for those of a nervous or sensitive disposition I would recommend averting your eyes from the photos accompanying this article!) Last minute checks are always a bit of a nightmare as you are sure you've forgotten to do something or pack something, but eventually I left the house in Bury at 5.30 am, and started on the journey to the start at Salford Quays.

        To be honest I was a bit concerned about finding the start point, which had changed from the last few years, and had vision of having to navigate round the maze of roads in the area-fine if you live there or travel into it regularly, but not so good if you don't. In the event my fears were not realised, and when I turned onto the path near the Imperial war Museum (no contender for a handsome building in my humble opinion), I saw a whacking great bridge further up the path which ran straight over to the Lowry Piazza! Problem solved and time saved.

          I soon found the Bike events tents and the early riders milling around looking considerably fitter than I  felt, and met up, as last year with a lovely lady who works for bike events. She was very taken by my specially printed t-shirt and organised a photo-whether they use it or not i have no idea. There is a story attached to the t-shirt by the way. In the interests of honesty, I have to admit that when I had it printed on Bury Market, I mistakenly had the number 35 printed instead of 36, and only realised when Nigel pointed it out to me. Oh bother I cried!

          With the use of some black fabric paint and a brush the  five became a six; not perfect but a talking point on the day!

           I must admit it's quite nice when younger riders treat you like an 'elder statesman', and a bit sobering too, since many of them weren't born when I did my first event!

                  We pinned our numbers on, checked our bikes for the last time and lined up, starting at 7.30 am promptly. There were a few turns as we were funneled around narrow paths near to the venue, but we soon got onto the road and started to settle down. I'd ridden into the event from |Bury, as previously stated, and I use the time to let my geriatric body get back into a rhythm and muscle memory to kick in. Seems to work for me, and thankfully I had no trouble on the journey. unfortunately this wasn't to last, and while still in Manchester and environs, half an hour later I got a puncture on the back tyre! As all riders know, this is a pain in the derriere, since the chain has to be negotiated when taking the wheel off, but I've done it before and will no doubt have to do it again.

     By pure coincidence, I came to a halt right next to one of the motorcycle Marshalls, who was parked by the side of the road. He was very helpful, and while I got the new tube in, and the tyre and wheel back in place, he inflated it with a pump he was carrying.

       Hoping for no more trouble I carried on towards Boothstown and beyond that Leigh. The weather was very hot and sunny with a beautiful blue sky, only marred by some distinctly man-made 'clouds'. I love hot weather, and have done ever since I was a child. mind you, back then we actually had hot summers, and we didn’t think the world was ending, we just called it Summer and got on with it!

              Through Atherton, Wingates and Aspull and then one of my favourite bits, the very steep downward hill before reaching Haigh Hall. I actually managed to get up to thirty miles an hour on one occasion believe it or not! Haigh Hall beckoned, and I walked over the infamous cobbles at the entrance to the park- previous experience has taught me that cobbles have no regard to the tender parts of one's anatomy, and we still had a long way to go!

         There were a lot of riders milling about, doing riderly things like stretching, walking like a dismounted cowboy and looking for the ice cream van! I have heard it said that ice cream doesn't sit well on the stomach when you're doing a ride, but I haven't found any personal ill effects myself. Sadly there was no van present so I had to get a small tub from one of the shops in the courtyard, after filling my water bottle up from a tap reserved for dogs-are they trying to tell us something I wonder?!

      Luckily there were no porta toilet related incidents this year, which from the comic prat fall perspective was a disappointment, but probably better  for the riders concerned.

  I got to the country park at 10.10 and left at 10.45, refreshed and ready for the road. the sun was shining, the birds were singing, the Lycra was stretching, and a few minutes after leaving, so apparently was  the front tyre! I noticed a regular bump as the wheel revolved, and stopped to check. At one point, for reasons which I can't explain, the side wall of the tyre had come out of the rim, and was causing the profile of the tyre to be irregular when it hit the ground. Rightly or wrongly I decided to see how it went on the way to Preston Docks, our next major stop, and sort it out there.

       On we pressed, though Charnock Richard and Chorley (and not a cake in sight!), to Leyland and then onto the long, straight dual carriageway which runs into Preston. This has one thing in common with the final stretch of road from Lytham to Blackpool - it apparently never ends and seems to get longer the harder you pedal!

         Thankfully we had great weather this year, but on a couple of occasions in the past, we have ridden through horizontal, stinging, cold rain and wind, heads down eyes almost closed and legs aching. It is just a case of 'keep going and don't think about it too much'.

       The road did end, as all things eventually do,  and we swung down into the Preston dockside area, where I pulled up, near a convenient bus shelter and eased my posterior off the saddle it felt like I'd left half my posterior on the saddle to be honest, but as soon as the circulation returned I grabbed some food and a good drink of water, and got the toolkit out to get the front wheel off and sort the tyre out. I took the inner tube out and couldn't see any bulges in it, but to be safe, replaced it with a fresh one and reassembled. Two small children on their little bikes stopped to watch me wrestling with the tyre, and were probably thinking 'Is this what we've got to look forward to if we carry on? Everything seemed fine so hoped for the best over the final push to the Glitter ball in Blackpool. I got to Preston at 12.45 but didn't leave until 1.25 due to the mechanical procedure = well I am an OAP and need a bit extra rest!

       As you leave the docks area and negotiate a big roundabout, to some traffic light, the road rises sharply and bears left near a park area, just the kind of hill you don't need when you hate hills! This is the section I probably like the best, as it wends its way through some beautiful countryside with farms and little villages, pretty houses and hedges full of life.

        The only bug bear in all of this idyllic picture is the state of the roads, which are often full of potholes and rough, rutted stretches, guaranteed to do your wheels no good at all. It's not too bad for those with big chunky tyres, but mine are more like the proverbial razor blades and don't take kindly to the bumps and dips. However you try to avoid them, and believe me you do, it is a losing battle and you have to hope for the best.

            I stopped at a farm along the way which has a cabin and an honesty box, for the purchase of milk and milkshakes. A couple of calves had been born that day and were in a paddock with their mothers nearby.

Full of cold chocolate milk shake I sped off at 15mph and made really good progress (well good for me at any rate!), actually passing a few riders! The sun shone, the fields glistened and it made one realise why we do this-because in spite of the aches and pains, it makes you feel good inside.

             I'd been thinking along the way, that firstly. someone would open a car door as I rode past, always a very dangerous thing to happen, and secondly that someone might get a hosepipe out and offer to spray us to cool us down. Neither had happened at this point, but, I think it was around Freckleton, that a man was standing by the side of the road, washing his car with a hosepipe. he motioned to a group of us to see if we wanted a shower, and we all gave the thumbs up. Unfortunately rather that delicate mist, what actually hit me was more like large blobs, and the water ran down my face, mingled with the perspiration (gentlemen don't sweat, they perspire!) and formed a burning, salty bath for the eyes! Imagine riding along with half closed eyes, wiping water and salt out of them so that you don't crash into the rider in front of you! Oh the joys of being a cyclist!

          We eventually wound our way through Warton and came to the final nasty hill, which rises up to join the main road into Lytham and on to Blackpool. I have a time honoured way of dealing with such obstacles. I ride as far as I can, then get off and push. I'm not proud and you need to save your energy for later at this point. thankfully on this occasion there wasn't a Marshall at the top of the road telling riders they were nearly there! Believe me they are not!

       We battle on through the heat and eventually beheld the lovely white windmill on the Green area at Lytham. Now for those doing it for the first time, this might be a reason to celebrate, as they envisage the finish line and a cold beer, but those of us in the know don't get too excited, as we know this is the hardest part, and delightful though the road can be on a fine day, it can be a nightmare with an onshore wind and in any case just goes on forever.

          There were lots of cars and people about, all enjoying the sunshine and warmth, and it was very tempting to get off and lie down on the grass for a while, problem is that you don't want to get up again!

              We pressed on, past Fairhaven Lake and after a long detour, rejoined the road into Blackpool, lined with cars and full of holiday makers trying to see who could get killed by bike riders!

It was at this point that the second part of my premonition came true. Riding past a long line of parked cars, to which I always give as wide a berth as the road allows, an idiot opened his door just as I was level with the car. Thankfully it only opened half way and I managed to swerve, but not before I had told him he was a person of little brain and illegitimate descent! Those weren't actually the words I used, but you can probably work it out for yourselves!

                  Quickly recovering my composure I pressed on, contemplating whether I would do a raised arm salute as I crossed the line or both arms. I settled for the former eventually, since the steering is a bit light and it would be a bad end to the ride if I flew over the bars and slid across the line in a pool of blood!

              At last the signs for the diversion onto the promenade came into view and I turned off the road and put a bit a sprint on to at least look less geriatric and more athletic. I soon saw the finish line and the crowds of people cheering. I crossed the line (not for the first time some would say!) at 3.22 pm and slowed down to turn into the little area near the Glitter ball, where the tents and riders were gathered.

       First stop was to pick up my medal, second stop was the beer tent, to order two pints of lager shandy, which barely touched the sides! After that a trip to the tent to arrange the return coach journey and then a long restful sit in the sun, which by this time was being gradually blotted out with darkening cloud cover.

       I chose the last coach home, at 6.00pm to give more time for rest, and at 5.30 loaded the bike into the lorry provided and boarded the coach. What we didn't know was that the motorway would be very busy, and the coach was delayed and slowed down. By the time we got back to the start, at The Lowry Piazza area, it was around 8.00pm,and we then had to get the bikes unloaded and some of us had to set off to ride home.

         I was getting increasingly concerned about beating the light, and since I didn't bring any lights with me (have never needed them in normal circumstances), I was conscious of not being invisible to cars. The journey home seemed to take forever, due to being tired and a little anxious, but I managed to get home for around 9.00, a little ahead of lighting up time.

            The total distance covered, including to and from the start was 90.5 miles, rest periods and stops took 1 hour 40 minutes and I was on the road for 7hrs 52 minutes. A lovely day and thankfully finished with no injuries-always a bonus. I hope the reader has enjoyed this account and would hugely appreciate any support you can give to the fundraising for all the work Three Owls does for wildlife and the environment.

     Nigel will hate me saying this, but the amount of work he work that he puts in on a daily basis, just taking enquiry calls from all over the country, is astonishing. Some of us do appreciate his dedication, even if he doesn't blow his own trumpet too much.

             I will, all being well, be back in the saddle next year, and have already had a t-shirt printed, with no mistakes this time! I  look forward to your support and thank you for reading this report.

John Thorpe