December 15th, 2005
Riding With Heroes and Ghosts
By a roundabout way I was invited to the John North Xmas ride tonight - Thanks Ben :-)
I haven’t seen John since he was in the pits at Karrimor 6 last year, telling me how lucky I was to have a wife that wouldn’t let me stop, so I wasn’t going to pass on a rare chance to ride with him. I haven’t ridden with, or rather on the same course, as John since NEMBA hung up it’s wheels.
Ben had told me six o’clock sharp and that “this isn’t a STW timing”. For once I arrived early, despite the best efforts of Preston traffic to delay me. While I sat waiting at the car park a suitably fat-piped Honda Civic Type R turned up. That was John. “I like my women like my cars, hard and fast”. John then proceeded to tell me what great car for cyclists my Ford Mondeo was. We chatted for a while about the changes to the Three Peaks since John won it, and he was kind enough to tell me that my best time, a frankly rubbish over five hours, was “a good time on the current course”. Aw, shucks.
Not having seen John in so long I was shocked to see the change that Parkinsons has wrought upon him. It has visibly slowed him up. Better this year than last though when he didn’t manage the Christmas ride. Johns version of slow hasn’t sunk to my version of it yet though. So while the fitter lads raced ahead I was happy to ride at the back with John and Mark Gornall, himself only on his second ride this year. Mark used to ride for Manchester Wheelers and during the nineties was another local cycling legend. It was Mark who, together with John, is the man responsible for our catchphrase of “It’s in” whenever we get the tandem into the big ring.
The moon was out and the sky was clear so it was possible to ride plenty of the trail lights out. The clear sky meant that it was bloody cold though. There were more groups and riders out than on a Sunday morning, and whenever we stopped to check that we were all together we had to make sure that we were counting folks from the right group.
Sadly John left us, escorted back by Mark, when the going got technical and the remainder of us headed off the doubletrack and into the woods. Now I was left to chase after the faster and fitter boys. The stops to discuss the ride so far became, not just fewer, but, well, non-existent.
In amongst the fast boys I’d recognised a face I haven’t seen for eleven years or so, Chris Whitfield, last seen racing downhill for the likes of Team Orange and Stif Santa Cruz. While I’d been riding with John, Chris had been up ahead riding with the faster blokes. Now Chris was good enough to slacken off a little and keep me company at the back, while we chatted about shared acquaintances, many of whom have retired from two wheels. Or rather Chris sat and talked away easily while I stood up and stamped the pedals in an effort not to be too slow.
By the time I made it back to the car park John had already gone. Like a bus I shall see him tomorrow in more convivial surroundings.
I’m already looking forward to riding with him this time next year.
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