Way of the Roses, Day 1.

So, here we are one year older and one year fatter to attempt the yearly cycle run. This year we lost one, and gained one, so the participants were: ‘Big Bad’ Brend, Marrsy, Dave ‘the bags’ Allen and me. We had decided to attempt a real cycle this year – the way of the Roses – which was a 170 mile journt across England from one side of the country to the other, from Morecombe to Bridlington.

The day started with a pickup in Bristol Parkway where I met up with Mr Marr, he had already been on the train for a couple of hours. So we tucked his bike in the car, topped up the oil and off we went. Bristol to Bridlington took a good few hours, but at around two o’clock we rolled into the sprawling seaside town of Morecambe. (Its a hole).

Checked into the guest house and met up with Brend, who had been there for a short while – he was splendidly kitted out in very tight lycra with a large man bag (which to be fair contained his sophisticated camera) and a very dusty bike. Brend doesnt bother himself with matter such as ensuring his bike is ready for a 170 mile trip – if its got air in its tyres and a seat, he’s happy.

So we walked down the front to a little caff, and sat in the very strong wind drinking tea and pop and Brendon eating a lot of food. After a visit with Mr Eric Bartholomews (later to be Morecambe) statue and a paddle for me, and a bracing swim for action man Marr we found ourselves having a little beer outside the Midland hotel – probably Morecambes only redeeming feature.

Span rolls into town at around 7, after making the 3 mile journey from Lancaster station to Morecambe, and in true Span tradition nearly kills himself on the first Morecambe round about as we watch. He has a couple of bags, saddle bags, nap sacks, little bike bags and i think they are full of stuff – he’s a one is our Span.

Evening comes and we have some food at Franky and Bennys and a final pint in the Midland where we use some very nice toilets! Then its home to the luxurious guest house for a slightly too warm night of broken sleep (pausing briefly to check the weather – it is going to rain)