| Nick Macdonald succumbed to the curious compulsion
to mark his survival for half a century with some kind of ritual involving
half a century
of something or other that would be survivable but not too much of
an ordeal that might threaten his second half-century. So what better
than half a century of kilometres on the bike? It would be a relaxing
outing around the Edinburgh hinterland suitable for all the families
- who would, no doubt, appreciate such a considerate gesture and opportunity.So
it was that a guardedly enthusiastic gang assembled at his house in
driving rain and arctic gusts from Kamchatka. There was a plan, of
course. It would
be a relaxing anticlockwise circuit taking in Lasswade, Rosewell, Carrington,
Temple, Middleton, Borthwick, Mayfield, Musselburgh and Holyrood with relaxing
stops for tea and buns at regular intervals. The plan suffered its first disruption
as we diverted to the traffic infested environs of IKEA to pick up Ewan G and
return to the plan via Roslin Glen, glad to escape regular drownings from truck
and bus wheels. |
|
Gordon makes it through
|
You could tell we weren’t a cycling club. Some had old
bikes rescued from the garage after 20 years of storage; one with the stabilisers
only recently removed. The growing band of tandem tyros was well represented
too. One or two were out to prove that you really don’t need mudguards.
Someone asked what did a met office severe weather warning really mean.By Rosewell,
the first group of hypothermic drop-outs left the peloton and fled home for
resuscitation. Another splinter group started what
was to become a habit of anticipating the next junction and disappearing
off-route for ages, or for ever. By Carrington, people were trading
clothing for food, and vice versa. Others were strangely very, very
quiet and peaceful, either in the final stages of hypothermia, or
just content, or both. That’s the trouble – you can’t
tell very easily. Passing Jim Barton’s in Temple we thought
it would be a good idea to surprise him and scrounge a brew. He was
out – the bastard! We had to continue. We hit the deep floods
somewhere after Temple. They were long and deep enough not to be free-wheelable
with feet on handlebars. So feet got even colder. |
| Hypothermia was now beyond a joke. It was becoming a serious threat
to next year’s club subscription income. Tandem captains were
trading clothing with their stokers. The pub in Middleton would save
us. We made it. The pub was shut – the bastards! Nothing was
open in Borthwick. Could we make it to Luca’s in Musselburgh?
A growing consensus opted for a course-revision to Dalkeith where
there was a great diversity of pubs and cafes. In her enthusiasm to
get there, Jane set off in pursuit of Ewan, little realising that
he was heading back for IKEA on his second course revision. Andy chased
her, catching up in time to repair her puncture in interesting roadside
repair conditions. We never saw them again. The rest of us struggled
on through Mayfield and down to Dalkeith and salvation in a large
friendly pub with a roaring fire. Alex leapt off his gleaming new
bike, called a Kama Sutra, which was appropriate to his contorted
antics as he tried to get out of his wet clothes in the pub. Yarns
were swopped about what a jolly time we were all having. Someone asked
whether Joe Simpson had experienced this kind of cold at the bottom
of the crevasse on Siule Grande. |
Alex and Barbel relax after the cycle |
A relaxing evening
|
Restored by hot soup and pints of hot chocolate and beer, we emerged back into
the weather for a fast descent into Gilmerton and a splendid birthday party
laid on by Alison, who had nobly foregone the opportunity to join Nick on the
tandem for this memorable half century outing. Amazingly, no-one lost any toes
or fingers, and we all agreed on how much more difficult it is to keep warm
on a bike in wind, cold and rain. |
