The Curse of Saddleworth

The rain was falling heavily. I was grateful. I fancied a long-lie. I made it to 8am and then got up, faffing, trying to tidy up and making more mess in the process. I watched last night's Tour de France stage and was inspired to go out a hilly ride as soon as the rain went off. The rain went off just as I had my lunch so had to wait another hour to let it go down. It's tradition to have an espresso before I go so It was 2PM by the time I clipped my helmet and headed up the hill to Mottram.

Whoosh.......down to Hollingworth a 70km.h descent even for a big Jessie like me. Soon I had passed through Crowden and was on the slopes of Holme Moss, the scene of amazing racing during the Tour de France. The initial section of the 5km climb isn't too steep but there's a few 13% sections which hurt a lot. My breathing was deep and steady with me trying not to dig deep into the red. I was soon in the red, legs burning as I neared the mast at the top of the 524m hill!

There were dozens of cyclists at the top car park, one getting into his car! What's that all about? I nearly shouted "sloth" (a lazy MAMIL). I was pleased to be on my non-MAMIL (middle-aged man in Lycra) bike. No relaxed geometry or nancy compact gears for me! All pro kit! When I imagine myself on a bike, I think Fabian Cancellara rather than a dodgy bloke who 5 years ago would have been playing golf or a riding a Kawasaki Ninja.

I swooped down into Holme (braking like a bike Jessie 200m before each bend), trying not to look at all the writing on the road left behind from the Tour. A procession of cyclists were going the opposite way, some on fancy bikes, others on old steel numbers that hadn't seen the light of day for many years. Wow....that descent is much better with dura-ace brakes rather than the frog legs on my cyclo-cross bike that had left me shaken the last time I rode that road.

It was only 17km from Holmfirth to Greenfield but I had under-estimated the difficulty. Although the gradient of the initial climb was shallow, the higher I got, the greater the headwind became. I was riding hard but struggling to get much above 13km.h. I was down on the drops to keep maximum control as the wind kept trying to whip the front wheel from me. It was becoming a war of attrition even on the plateau which is Saddleworth Moor. It just got tougher. When would the descent begin? I understand why Myra Hyndley and Ian Brady had used this area to bury their murder victims. It was cursed!

Alas, the 5km 'Isle of Skye' descent into Greenfield began in earnest, a long sweeping road with a couple of reservoirs at the bottom. Half-way down I was wishing for a MAMIL bike with relaxed geometry. Pins and needles meant that I had less control of the brakes than desirable and my back was killing me. I wanted a climb! My wish came true....and it just so happened that a guy on a fancy bike had turned onto it just ahead of me. Boom! I was carrying more momentum and whizzed past him. I may as well have slapped him with a leather gauntlet! He accelerated and gapped me. I thought "I'm not getting caught up in such nonsense" but still tried to get on his wheel. I failed but still ripped it to Stalybridge and the final 10min climb of the day.

I arrived home just in time for a snack and to pack my swimming kit for my 18:30 session! Just a wee lie down, I thought. It turned into a big lie down and I missed swimming.

(The picture is significant because it is a special TdF blend from Holmfirth's coffee roasters, Grumpy Mule.......apt as I love bikes, coffee and can act like a grumpy mule from time-to-time).