Bryan, Brian, Dave H, Jim, Andy, Trevor and Ray were already at the Gallery Café as Martin and I arrived together. Brian was at last back from Scotland. Bryan was solo on the tandem and only out for coffee because his Campag shifters were being repaired. Trevor was only out for coffee as well. Bryan had offered a 40 miler to Nannerch consisting of climbing up and down the Moel Arthur and Moel Fammau passes – but as he wasn’t coming with us, so we saved it for him on another day. I offered a 53 miler to Gronant returning via the Dyserth cycleway. Just as we were leaving there was a call “I am at so-and-so, where are you all meeting today” – no, it wasn’t Ivan (he was at a motor show) it was Mike G. No problem I said, we’re going to the Bells of St Mary you can meet us there. We set off going the usual back way towards Northop Hall. Rather than going the direct way to Halkyn, I had plotted a deviation via Flint Mountain. I should say at this point that this was a day of “threes”. The lane looked like a lane on the OS but as it deteriorated, I recalled that I had been down it before and the rough track would eventually turn into a metalled surface. With the confidence of knowing that I had been down it before, the rest followed. With slightly dirty wheels, we pushed on taking the lane on the left that took us down and up a single chevroned minute lane. “Take the first left,” I instruct Ray and Martin. They steam past it so I race after them to get them to turn back. We meet the back markers coming towards us and turning back, we all take the rough farm lane (it looked OK on the OS) which will get us over the A55. Pausing here to check the mud on the bike, Martin finds he has a front wheel puncture. No fault can be found but a new tube goes in and before we know it, the tyre has gone down again. After minute inspection, and a lot of stroking of beards, another tube is used and all is well. This all takes some time and Jim and Brian are getting restless and start talking to the young bull in the field opposite. Brian wants to try to find out if bulls really do not like red rags – but it was not a fair test- he was the other side of the barbed wire from the bull!
Photographs by Clive Albany and Martin Donaldson
We are off again, briefly on the A55 then up past the Britannia Inn. I think about stopping to wait for the others but also think that we have stopped for long enough already so I keep going staying on the main road at a very leisurely pace. Eventually, we are all strung out but in view as Martin and I pull up in Pentre Halkyn. He has a third puncture on the same tyre! No sign of Jim and Dave; meanwhile Andy and Ray have gone back to try to find them. Brian’s phone rings but he is too late to pick it up and there is a message from Jim saying that they are at the Windmill (having turned off the main road at the Britannia Inn and gone up the steep hill) and will find a café somewhere. Brian texts that we are giving up on Gronant and going to Lloc and the Misty Waters pub. Tyre fixed, we set off at a pace up and across towards Brynford and down to Gorsedd. The phone rings – its Mike saying he was at Gronant and where were we. Profuse apologies follow from me, but he was nonetheless happy to meet us at Misty Waters, which he said he knew. At Misty Waters, three of us have pints of Titanic ale, which after a few sips is confirmed as being “off”, so three pints of Guinness are supped instead. The food comes quickly but Mike doesn’t appear and my phone has no signal. I plot a route back and up the road decide to phone Mike. He’s just up the other road at the other pub in Lloc. Remembering and adapting Oscar Wilde’s quote “To lose one part of the group may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose two parts looks like carelessness” I give Mike the local directions, and in a few minutes he is with us bound for Caerwys. To do this we need to get over the A55 so I find a nice farm lane with a requisite bridge. The lane says it a “No Through Road” – the OS disagrees, so I go down it and the rest reluctantly follow obviously thinking “Here we go again down lane No 3”. Well we were both right, it wasn’t a dead end but it was the dirtiest lane this year. We came out with bikes covered in cow’s muck and spent a few minutes cleaning the wheels with grass.
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| The evidence |
I promised a main road now as we headed for Caerwys but take the lane on the bend towards Ysceifiog and the double chevroned lane thereto. Just checking if a double chevroned was OK, or did we want to go to the Pet Cemetery for tea, we went for tea. With pots of tea and cake we rationalised that it was going one of those easy days today. Just before we leave, I spot an employee cleaning the animal hearse – five minutes later most of us have hosed down the bikes to get the worst of the muck off. Feeling inwardly and outwardly refreshed, we set off via Brynford to pick up cycle route 5 which will get us down into Flint. Eschewing the main road, we take the parallel road through the housing estate and press on towards Shotton and Hawarden. Martin wends his way up to Hawarden as Brian takes the train. We remaining four take the back way past Yvonne’s café and over the Dee onto the Greenway to Chester. The day was in threes – new dirty lanes, sub-groups, punctures, bad pints, and comestible stops. The circular route was “only” 41 miles but what fun it was, now that we are all home that is.
CA
