Ripon – 25 Nov 23

Sometimes, knowing what to post when providing a write-up, can be taxing. But not today. Because this account isn’t the one that was planned.

It should have all been about what an absolutely fabulous finale to our 2023 season, today’s ride around Ripon, was. And indeed, it was. Thanks to Stevie for a thorough recce – and for leading the ride so well.

It was also going to contain details of how twenty Trekkers, layered up against the cold, enjoyed a brand new, delightful route, under a cloudless sky, blessed with dazzling, if not somewhat blinding, winter sun. And that’s all true.

It was planned to include special mentions of Dave T, back from a TT sabbatical, and Lyndsay, a stoker from our recent appearance at the York Sight Loss Council Open Day. And it was also going to also provide a thank you to Tim D, for helping us out once more. Again, no word of a lie.

And, how remiss it would have been, for the account not to have given thanks to absolutely every single Trekker who made the day so enjoyable. And, “enjoyable” is playing it down. Drastically so. For, in truth, it was a ride to relish and remember.

So, what’s with the cryptic undertone?

Short version: Car keys slipped from unzipped pocket one mile from start of ride. Were surprisingly found later. Didn’t work. Spare set brought from base. All ended well.

Longer version: “What was that metal sound”, Stoker Lyndsay to Pilot Paul. “Not sure – but the bike’s running fine and I can’t think of anything that could have fallen off”. Conclusion – there must have been something metallic, lying in the road, and we just ran over it. Let’s keep going. 

About 2.5 hours later. Paul “I can’t find my car keys!” Someone in crowd (sceptical tones) “Are you sure? Check all your pockets. [Note to reader: Gilet and Winter Cycling Jacket = lots of pockets, mostly zipped.] No, definitely not here. Hang on…. wait a minute …. you don’t suppose that clinking sound, shortly after we set off, could possibly be my keys falling on to the road?”

Opting to investigate, Drew, endowed with a spirt of optimism, “Let’s go look”. So, Drew and Paul set off, on a tandem, on the same route ridden earlier in the day. Not particularly hopeful of a successful retrieval, but deciding it was definitely worth a punt. And guess what. The earlier referred to clank must have been the said keys falling from a pocket, because, just over a mile from our start off point – there they were – lying on the road: the lost keys.

The normal response should have been euphoric. And, indeed, there was a measure of relief, tinged with unbelief and thankfulness. But, sadly, holding the ecstatic response in check were visible indications the dropped keys had been damaged. Probably, run over. Possibly, functionally incapacitated beyond immediate repair. (FIBIR).

And whatever collective optimism there might have been, a digital refusal to respond to the button press on Drew and Paul’s return, rendered all belief in a salvageable situation, redundant. 

What were we to do?

Having determined that neither the AA, nor even the SAS, were viable solutions, there was, alas, only one workable possibility. Drive back to base in another Trekker vehicle, pick up a spare key, return to Boroughbridge, and redeem the predicament.

And so, in conclusion, VC’s are hereby awarded to the aforementioned Dave T and Drew. Dave T for shepherding a rather hapless Paul back to base, and Drew for magnanimously volunteering to drink copious amounts of coffee in Boroughbridge, awaiting Paul’s return, and then offering to ferry his car home.

The above “Short Version” ended with the words: “All ended well.”

And so too does this version!