The Testing Times - December 2009

Reports

Reviews

Legends

Cranks

Old Skool

Kit

Riders

http://www … beckons

Carbon

December 2009 Circulation: There’s still a pulse.

Testing Times to hit the world-wide web What’s in this issue:

Cammish to hit the bottle ... again Almost embarrassed by the success of what was originally being heralded as Britain's crappiest Time Trial Fanzine, Ian Cammish and his merry band of failed cyclists, photographers and journalists are destined to hit the big-time in 2010. Plans are afoot to go global!

Recent meetings with highly intellectual (so they told us) and grossly overpaid IT experts have resulted in BIG plans being put forward for the future of Testing Times by the management at Planet X HQ. “If it’s going to go belly up, let’s do it big-time,” declared Dave Loughran as he was escorted through the heaving mass of reporters that had gathered in anticipation of an eagerly awaited update on the leaked suggestions in a recent issue of this mag that something is afoot.

“It’s a big world out there and we’ve been told that the worldwide web awaits. We’ve got a ‘one-off’ here - there's really nothing out there quite like Testing Times. The general feedback we’ve been getting right from the very beginning is that the quality of the product has to be seen to be S EE

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Meet (even more of) the team Major Targett on the National Hill climb Planet X’s new TT frame : The Exocet Paul Gittins on the Boro’ Mystery and intrigue with Peter Whitfield

believed so we want the world to share what the rest of us have had to endure.”

Cammish was unavailable for comment, his minders letting it slip that he was off to urgently book himself into an ‘IT made simple’ evening course at his local technical college. Whether or not he can fit this in between Neighbours, Coronation Street and Eastenders remains to be seen, but it will soon become quite apparent when Testing Times goes ‘live’ (is that the right term?) when the IT fat-cats have done the deed and got it up and running.

Frankly Franklin’s Christmas experience Sue Fenwick meets Margaret Allen Gambling on … surviving Christmas Planet X Old Skool series … 2010 Titter!

Nob off The team wishes readers of Testing Times and anyone else as equally midguided a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Never one for moving with the times, Cammish is said to PLANET X’S NEW TT FRAME be ‘bricking it’ in anticipation of what lays THE EXOCET … PGS 8 / 9 ahead. If anyone can screw TESTING TIMES GOES ‘LIVE’ it up though, Cammish can … despite failing dismally … SOON! with Testing Times.

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Meet the Team … (there can’t be many more left willing to shoulder the burden of blame … surely?)

Steve Kish (left) … licensed to thrill. 007’s stunt-man in his spare time. Full time occupation? International drug smuggler and arms dealer. Hiding out somewhere warm masquerading as a ‘journalist’ for the World’s leading Planet X time trial fanzine Testing Times.

In a word … Frightening (well would you argue with a man who looks like that?). frighten • verb 1 cause to be afraid. 2 (frighten off) drive away by fear.

DERIVATIVES frightened adjective frightening adjective frighteningly adverb.

Major Paul Targett (right) … Occasional contributor. Fond of ease, chess, fell-racing, insincere flatterers. Not fond of DIY, team games, totalitarian state interference unless he’s giving the orders. Given to self-effacement and flights of fancy. Partial to simplistic solutions. More foibles than Aesop.

In a word ... QUIRKY quirk (kwûrk) n. A peculiarity of behavior; an idiosyncrasy: "Every man had his own quirks and twists" P.L. Onker 18582003

Suechoccychoccy Fenwick/Rogers (left) … very keen on leather and something big and powerful between her legs. VERY happily ensconced in a long-term relationship with ‘Big-Will’ from Swavesey (honest!).

Suechoccychoccy is delighted to be a ‘has-been’ in the world of domestic time-trialling having won the women’s National 100 championship back in the good old days when Clement 3s ruled the roost and all the aero gizmos were a twinkle in her mum’s eye. Enjoying a time trialling reincarnation taking full advantage of all the hi-tech twaddle now available...and loving it!

In a word… SMITTEN (with cycling) … 3(be smitten) be affected severely by a disease. 4 (be smitten) be strongly attracted to someone or something.

S EE

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Testing Times’ view of the 2009 National Hillclimb Championships, Pea Royd Lane, Stocksbridge

by Paul Targett Testing Times gives the inside story. Any resemblance of names or characters to real people in this account is entirely intentional.

Darren Gill sat bolt upright as Mr Tickle’s arms reached 10 and 12, triggering the musical alarm which had roused him virtually every morning since his sixth birthday. He knew immediately the awesome significance of this day. Ever since the CTT had announced that the National hillclimb champs were to be held at nearby Stocksbridge, he’d taken every opportunity he could to practice on the infamous OHC9 course. Unlike the innocent cannon fodder yet to come, Darren knew exactly what to expect. He wolfed down a full English and drained two bottles of Barnsley’s finest pale ale – he wasn’t taking any chances of a hunger crack today. The gusting winds wouldn’t make the challenge any easier but then these would buffet elite and duffer alike.

At 10.30 sharp he closed the garden gate and swore at next door’s Doberman/Boxer cross as it strained the links on its chain in a desperate effort to sink its foaming gnashers into his inviting neck. Darren made a mental note to pick up some Warfarin and a cheap ham shank from the local Costcutter store on his way back and turned to business.

Some way away and some time earlier, Tags Targett came to. It had seemed a smart move two weeks earlier to post his £12 (ouch) entry cheque; a chance to extend his season by a week and see a part of South Yorkshire usually off limits to the salaried middle classes. As the cacophony of falling masonry down his gable end died off a shiver of

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“We only came out to walk t’ dog .. what’s ‘appenin’ ‘ere them?”

Photo courtesy of Andy Gates doubt stirred within. Leaving a note for his better half to check yellow pages for a local chimney repairman, he swallowed two aspirins and re-checked his pulse. 88 had seemed a mite high.

Paul Kippax or ‘Smokey’ as his drinking chums affectionately tagged him, was to approach the venue from the South, hailing as he did from Rutland, where he ran a haberdashery store on the indoor market. As the recession was playing havoc with the demand for habers and dashers he had recently returned to his original profession as a mercenary, specialising in silent assassination. If anybody was foolish enough to cross him on the Nationals day they’d run the risk of experiencing one of his 87 preferred techniques.

His preparations had been extreme.

To reduce weight he’d extracted his

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own toe and finger nails but had needed the assistance of an engineering apprentice to plane off 5mm from his upper and lower canines. Unfortunately the jig had been set wrongly and the resulting 30 degree angle from 8mm down to 2mm ensured he’d never again advertise toothpaste. This obsession with weight loss seemed incongruous given that he always rode with a saddlebag, but Smokey never travelled without his favourite filleting blade.

Tags Targett meanwhile was still trying to understand the physics.

Having input OHC9 (momentarily struggles to avoid product endorsement) into his favourite search engine, he came across a science abstract relating to sub threshold pion production in heavy ion collisions around 100 MeV/u . It seemed that OHc = 9” and 23”

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represented the moving source parameterisation of something or other, probably ectoplasm for all Tags knew. However as a semieducated 60’s baby boomer it seemed clever stuff and Tags surmised that he’d hit on the optimum average velocity for the hillclimb. He mulled over the concepts as he gently climbed Pea Royd Lane for his first recce.

won’t argue with those who claim it was closer to 7/12 ths) preceded two further blistering ‘kicks’, as the crosswinds howled up the fellside and the black and white chequered flag strained on its pole in the far distance. Tags knew instinctively that he was now out of his mind...err.. depth but he had promised Cammish an article and a cub scout’s word is his bond.

Dan Leeman (Cervelo Test Team) on his way to his first National Hill Climb Championship win.

Photo courtesy of Andy Gates The initial section was tantalisingly easy and therein lay the trap – you had the hammer down because you were still fresh but then you hit the ordnance survey double arrows on a sharp right hander, steepest on the inside curve with the road surface degraded by hard braking car tyres.

As it shallowed to the half way point a lone piper (sporting the Rab C Nesbitt tartan) summoned the clans to rebellion with a stirring rendition of that old Scottish classic Danny boy. The awful brutality of the second half filled the horizon, festooned as it was with cheerleaders hoping to see a chump or two topple off as their forward speed reached 0.0 m/sec.

A sharp left at the ¾ point (although I

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Darren hadn’t needed much of a warm up as he’d cycled the 5 miles from home in a shade under 10 minutes, an uncomfortable pace not unconnected with the sharp metallic ping of a steel chain link stress fracture as its residual tensile strength was suddenly exceeded. Not of a metallurgical bent, he’d failed to see this coming whereas Smokey, who’d studied metallurgy at pup school had worked long and hard for this very opportunity. The matching names of the mad dogs from Birdwell and Rutland was one of an estimated 367 coincidences predicted that day by statistical theory within the parish boundaries of Stocksbridge alone.

As he clipped in with 30 seconds to go he smoothed down his eyebrows

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and brought up most of that mornings sausage and plum tomatoes, although the scrambled egg mysteriously refused to surface. At 10 seconds to go he thought he heard a distant bark. At -3 he saw it, leaping the road closure bollards and nailing the ‘man’s best friend’ myth from the tip of its docked black tail to the menacing intent in its blood red eyes.

Stoically suppressing his rising dread he began to wonder if messrs Clarke and Parker would ever give him leave to start.

Smokey Kippax had wangled himself a late slot preferring to mix it with the seeded riders in the hope he’d be pulled through to a sub 4 minute time. As bad luck would have it he ended up being sandwiched between two riders of the fairer sex, each of whom reminded him in different ways of his ex-partner Millicent. The emotional trauma this engendered was not inconsiderable given that they’d only broken up that very morning. Finding his inner tubes unironed had been bad enough but her rank refusal to accompany him to the championship on the feeble premise that her ailing mother Maud wasn’t expected to last the weekend was more than he could tolerate.

Warning her to be gone before he came home with the champions trophy he borrowed a tenner and turned on his Sat Nav. Firing up the customised V8 on his lime green Austin Allegro he roared up the A1 to steel city.

Darren had reached the first turn when Smokey, closing rapidly, suffered a massive fatal heart attack.

Fortuitous as this was for Darren it proved less so for the assembled crowd on the outside bend, six of whom were bowled over domino fashion by the dead dog’s hurtling cadaver. Darren gratefully pressed on and held his composure well to record a first split of 2.18.

In training he’d never broken 6 minutes but he now felt sure that barring any bionic dog resurrections the (not so) magic 5 minute barrier was within his grasp. Wiggo’s efforts on Mont Ventoux were tame in comparison to the physical

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contortions he now subjected his body to as he fairly buried himself to crest the summit in 4-58.5. It was nigh on 13 minutes before the St John Ambulance volunteers finally resuscitated him (Smokey had proved quite beyond their powers) with no obvious sign of brain damage. As Darren’s brain also proved to be largely intact the smile on his face on hearing his finishing time made the Cheshire cat look solemn and he part cycled, part skipped the 3 mile detour back to the HQ. Tag’s top tube was the only thing that prevented his knees knocking together as he completed the final decade of his rosary beads. Taking leave of his senses and previous experience he took the first split in 2.11 and even the piper knew he’d blown it big time. His error was further compounded by his miserly streak when he espied what appeared to be a ten bob bit in the grit by the kerbstones. Unable to resist such temptation he dismounted and was bitterly disappointed to find it was only the remnant of a Doctor Pepper can weathered into a perfect hexagon.

The gradient defeated his attempts at remounting and he was forced to wheel his stricken machine to the next bend before resuming a pedalling motion of sorts. Waiving all offer of assistance from the summit marshals it came as a pleasant surprise to find he’d dipped inside Darren’s marker by 0.3 secs. He soaked up the impressive panorama of the Don valley below him as the icy showers failed to dent his brylcreamed crew cut.

Smokey Kippax, unaware of his namesakes recent demise, checked the buckles on his saddlebag one last time and placed his rear tyre on the wooden starting wedge. He’d never heard of Darren Gill or Tags Targett (the hillclimbing escargot) before but he was about to ride himself into the glare of media publicity that surrounds every issue of Testing Times. Dawn Sherrin of VC Azzuri but perhaps better known as the more dominant member of the much feared tag wrestling team ‘The Berserkers’ had set off one minute ahead, but the starter’s periscope suggested she

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each others’ inner demons, and their inner demons fought each others’ inner demons, the hill and their own inner inner demons, the unfolding drama of the ladies championship superimposed itself on their second fiddle efforts. Lynn had blasted to ½ way in 2.09 (great time for a marathon) and her face betrayed a mask of pain as she rounded the final bend – indeed some bystanders thought it may have been her death agony itself. Tragedy was writ large for Lynn that day though as she had missed the earlier posting of Maxgear racing team’s Anna Fischer by exactly ½ a second – surely the cruellest result of the day.

Major Targett kicking butt up Pea Royd Lane Photo courtesy of Andy Gates might be catchable with a following wind and there was certainly plenty of that about. Mr Parker would stick to the number 47 at Mozammal’s balti in future. Alex Deck, the other half of ‘The Berserkers’ was starting immediately behind him and besides not wanting to take the blame for Mr Parker, Smokey had no intention of becoming the meat in The Berserkers’ sandwich.

12.48 passed into history and Smokey Kippax kept his cool. Wisely splitting in 2.23 he’d husbanded his available energy perfectly to catch Dawn within 50m of the finish line. As Alex packed at half way, ostensibly to throttle the piper for murdering her favourite Welsh tune (Daniel boyo) Smokey’s saddlebag thankfully remained unopened. He had finished in 4-55.7 which by another of those estimated 367 coincidences predicted that day by statistical theory within the parish confines of Stocksbridge alone was exactly the time of Lynn Hamel, the Cumbrian star riding to defend her hillclimbing champion’s tiara.

As Darren, Tags and Smokey fought their personal battles against the hill, each other, their inner demons and

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At the men’s sharp end professional Dan Fleeman (real name Daniel Fleeman) of the Cervelo Test Team took the honours from previous champ Matt Clinton (real name Matthew Clinton ) who believed he’d over geared, and Jim Henderson (real name Jim Henderson) took a deserved bronze in his final race following the surprise announcement of his retirement. Dare we hope this was a ‘Steve Redgrave’ type of retirement and that he will fight on next year? If Danny Shand hadn’t come down with the flu it may well have been the day of the Dannys, especially if the piper got her way.

Pea Royd Lane has earned its place in the annals of hillclimbing folklore and the lucky few have a porcelain mug to prove they saw action on the day the champs came to Stocksbridge.

RESULTS 1 ) Dan Fleeman (Cervelo Test Team) 03-17.8 (split 1-29) 2 ) Matt Clinton (MikeVaughan.co.uk) 03-31.6 (split 1-35) 3 ) Jim Henderson (Southport CC) 03-39.4 (split 1.43) (some other riders).

75) Anna Fischer (Maxgear RT) 04-55.2 (split 2-22) 76) Paul Kippax (Rutland CC) 04-55.7 (split 2.23) 77) Lynn Hamel (Team NCA) 04-55.7 (split 2.09) 78) Paul Targett (Pendle Forest CC) 04-58.2 (split 2.11) 79) Darren Gill (Birdwell Wheelers) 04-58.5 (split 2.18) (not many other riders)

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Frankly and Nederlof to attempt RRA’s 1000 mile record Testing Times’ Ian Frankly Franklin is to team up with former Dutch national time trial champion Lex Nederlof to attempt one of the longest records on the Road Records Association’s books.

A crack support team, led by brave Dale Ford, is already laying the foundations for a serious attempt at the 1000 mile tandem-trike record at ‘a secret location’ some time next October. Inside information leads Testing Times to believe the attempt is likely to take place on Manchester Velodrome and that the time of start is specifically being planned to coincide with the ending of British Summer Time. “Well that gives us a free hour to play with straight away” said Frankly at the recent press launch hosted by the attempt’s main sponsors ‘Thailand’s Tag-a-long Trailers’.

“Personally, I never thought I’d see the day where I’d ever have a realistic chance of getting my name in the record books, but with Lex I can’t see any way I can fail. Obviously over such a distance as that, and bearing in mind the choice of venue, boredom is going to be one of the biggest worries but I’m sure there’s plenty of room where I’ll

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Frankly and Nederlof begin training outside their main sponsor’s headquarters be sitting for a lap-top - my biggest concern is whether or not Lex is up to the job”.

Road Record Association officials were unavailable for comment at the time of going to press but Testing Times contributor (and RRA committee man and multi-record breaker) Ralph Dadswell is reported to have maybe said “We’ve had no reason to consider any claims for the

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1000 miles tandem trike record since Pnut Arnold and Mr Grimes put it on the shelf in 1954. Let’s face it … it’ll never be beaten. Nevertheless, I would whole-heartedly support Frankly and Lex’s attempt because I really like seeing people suffer … more so, when there’s absolutely nothing to be gained (because my money says they won’t beat it!). :-) Of course, I still wish them all the success in the world.”

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PROUDLY PRESENTS

OLD SKOOL RAVE THE FINAL SHOWDOWN

DATE AND TIME TO BE CONFIRMED IN A PLANET X WAREHOUSE NEAR YOU (LIKELY TO BE CARCROFT ENTERPRISE PARK AFTER OUR MOVE!)

12 CONTENDERS BATTLE IT OUT FOR YOUR VOTES EAT YOUR HEARTS OUT JEDWARD, JAMIE, JOE AND JORDAN THE OLD SKOOL RAVE RULES OK! 12 HOURS OF PURGATORY BROADCAST LIVE … MAYBE ‘AVING IT OUT ON THE NIGHT WILL PROBABLY BE: AL

BOOGIE AND RAP ROBERTS

THE POWER POP-MAN PARKY PARKINSON and GAV GROOVY GOOD MAN HINXY BABE HINXMAN To hear their previous form across DnB, Techno, Hip Hop, 2 step and ‘core production listen in and download from a freebie download store near you. ;-) S EE

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TESTING TIMES PRESENTS …

THE EXOCET

After many months of talk and speculation, Planet X’s new time trial frameset is about to hit the road. Ian Cammish is delighted to be able to provide a Testing Times exclusive road test report, together with photographs, of the all-new Exocet frameset.

Nice smooth lines of the rear ends incorporating wheel adjusters to allow the centring of the wheel and shortening of the wheelbase

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Integrated headset and internal brake and gear cabling

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Technical stuff: Conforms to UCI 3:1 and 80mm Max rule

Two choices of saddle mounting (left). Photo contrast cunningly adjusted to prevent too close an inspection by the competition!

Neat seat cluster and rear brake mounting (below)

The road test I carried out was a far cry from the month’s warm winter’s training in the Canaries the Cycling Weakly team manage to wangle for their ‘tests’. Instead, I waited until the rain was forecast to stop and booked a days sicky from work to try it out on my local home-made 25 mile course in Cambridgeshire. Although it was dry, it was still blowing a gale and I hadn’t ridden much further than to the local take-away and back in the last 6 months (he’s been ill...apparently!). I also didn’t bother tweaking the position at all - just got on it and rode.

The stem was a bit short (later replaced as per photo) and the saddle a tad high but time was short and I didn’t want to be seen by the competition … or by any of my workmates, so I persevered as it was.

My initial impression was how comfortable it felt - very similar to the Pro Carbon track bike. It was a tad more responsive and rigid than the Stealth with a very, VERY stiff rear end.

The special two-position seat post allowed for a powerful position right over the bottom bracket and enabled me to power out to the turn into the strong headwind with no problem.

The best was yet to come though. On the return trip there felt to be no ‘give’ at all in the frame. All the power I was putting down seemed to be getting through.

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Wind-tunnel evaluated in San Diego and Dresden.

In San Diego it was compared with all the major 'competitor' frames, with and without rider, at 0, 5, 10, 15, 20 degrees of yaw. In every test the Exocet was evaluated to be in the top category.

In Dresden it was evaluated against the current '09 and new '10 models of a top rated TT bike (you don’t seriously expect us to name it do you?) . The Exocet was measurably more aerodynamic than both models.

NOTE: the 2010 ‘un-named’ bike has concealed front & rear brakes yet the Exocet is still more aerodynamic.

“Good design beats fashion fads any day” … that’s the quote from one of the frame’s designers.

Flatter tubes than the Stealth (below) but more aero...and more rigid

Well pleased and certainly impressed.

One or two tweaks before it can be let loose to the public - gear changing a bit spongy, front mech mounting needs ‘stacking out’ a bit to ensure the front changer changes … that’s all!

Naturally, I’ll delay feedback as long as I reasonably can so I’ll be the only rider using one until at least next September! We’ll see if it makes up for no training.

Let’s face it .. All you rally want is photos anyway … eh? ;-) “Bloody fast” … that’s the quote from Cammish.

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WHEN (we were a lot younger) Those were the days my friends We thought they’d never end, We’d ride and ride for ever and a day.

We’d ride the roads we’d choose, We’d race and never lose, For we were young and naive in every kind of way.

(With apologies to Mary Hopkin, yet another great Welsh person) When I was a fresh faced youth I lived in Wrexham which was to me and my mates in the Wrexham RC, the centre of the known universe. We would ride events on the local ‘D’ courses which, with the D1 at Chester being the 25 competition record course (1961 Charlie McCoy 55-01), were quite fast enough for us. Occasionally we would be very daring and venture into Cheshire, Lancashire and even Staffordshire to ride on some of the ‘J’ courses such as the J13 on the East Lancs Road with its concrete slabs or the rolling J52 between Maer and Nantwich – a whole world away (well, a couple of counties anyway). This sufficed for our early teen years, not many club members had cars so riding out was the usual means of getting to events which tended to limit one’s sphere of activity.

This relatively limited view of the time trialling world was expanded by reading Cycling every week with its reports of events across the UK (yes, it did have them – lots of them!) and glimpses of such exotic locations as ‘The Southend Road’ and ‘The Bath Road’, always couched in relatively vague terms so as to confuse the general public (never mind cyclists from other parts of the country!) and maintain the RTTC’s strict ‘Private and Confidential’ edicts. It often seemed that courses in other regions were perpetually faster than those locally with 54 and then 53 minute 25’s being done ‘down South’

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Mr Gittins in the Yorks Century 100 in '68. It was taken (on Paul’s camera) by his friend Nigel and shows him taking a huge 'packet' with around 10-15 miles to go. Where is all the traffic?! Late morning on the A1 on August Bank Holiday and hardly a car in sight and even then they complained about traffic flow! on a weekly basis, not to mention astronomically fast 50’s with times we could only dream of on the Whitchurch Road.

The potential of the ‘foreign’ courses was brought home to me in 1966 when my old friend Paddy Ward of the Birkenhead Victoria CC suggested that we take a trip to Yorkshire (Yorkshire!!

Where was that??) to ride a 50 on the famous and fast ‘Boro’ course. He’d entered an event, the Harrogate CC, in 2 weeks time and was willing to give me a lift up. To me at that time, Yorkshire was a complete unknown (still is in some ways!), my only known reference to it being my Mum’s puddings of the same name, and a trip there would mean crossing the Pennines!! I gracefully declined the offer stating that I was going to stay home and ride the final local association 25. On the day that Paddy made the suggestion we had both ridden the Chester RC 50 on the D2 and both done middling ‘4’s’ finishing around 4th and 5th in the

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results. Now, those of you of a certain age may see where this is leading.

Paddy did go up to ‘Boro’ and did a 1-55 on a day when it seemed that a one legged unicyclist could have got inside 2 hours. Pete Smith broke comp. record with the first 1-49. I stayed at home and did a 1-4 on the D1. Hardly a week goes by since then when I have not regretted it. Mind you, if I had gone, then it would have blown a gale, rained a flood, and the history of time trialling would have gone down a completely different leg of the trousers of time. Perhaps all those riders who did fabulous times that day should thank me for maintaining my allegiance to the West Cheshire TTCA. In ’67 I left home and went to the Far South, that is to say, High Wycombe (quite far enough thank you!). Here I made acquaintance with the legendary ‘Bath Road’ and recorded my first ‘inside the hour’ ride and my (still current) PB 50 in the ’68 National Championship. Last year I drove down the Bath Road from Reading to

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Marlborough for the first time in nearly 40 years and couldn’t believe how narrow and ‘lumpy’ it appeared. Beats me how so many people did the super rides they did (such as Frank Colden’s 3-54 100 in ’62 and Pete Smith’s 1-48 in the ‘67 International 50) on such a road.

I also made my one and only pilgrimage to the Southend Road.

Gordon Wright suggested we ride the Roamer 30, so very early one Sunday morning we set off down the A40, around the North Circular and down to Basildon. I started but I didn’t finish, I just couldn’t equate the actuality of the course with the glowing reports written about it in the ‘comic’.

I was disappointed, it didn’t ‘feel fast’ to me at all but perhaps it wasn’t one of those renowned ‘float mornings’ that Alf and co. seemed to find on a regular basis. Whatever it was, I’ve never been back.

In 1968, at the height of my powers (!!!) I suggested to my old Wrexham RC mate Nigel that, as we were now more cosmopolitan in our outlook and our horizons had been expanded (he’d been at Reading University when I was in High Wycombe) and I now had a car, we would travel up to Yorkshire and beyond on August Bank Holiday weekend and ride a couple of events. I would ride the Yorkshire Century 100 on the Sunday on ‘Boro’ and Nigel would ride the Ferryhill Whs. 50 on the Monday on the T503. In the anticipation that we were both going to finish our respective events with performances that would put club records on the shelf for years to come, we drove up on the Saturday by some convoluted route that my cousin (who had been to Darlington once!) suggested – this was well pre-M62 of course – and found our ‘digs’ somewhere in Knaresborough, sharing a room with several other ‘foreigners’ riding the 100 next day, one of whom snored all night. He slept a deep and refreshing sleep while the rest of us didn’t, hardly conducive to riding a good 100 the next morning. After an early rise and some sort of breakfast (pre-race preparation wasn’t so technical in those days) Nigel drove to Wetherby and I rode behind the car as a warm up. When I started and got onto

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the A1 for the first time I could appreciate how good it was in comparison to all the other courses I had ridden and how those fast times had been achieved. The tyres sang, the miles passed by – even those in the ‘lanes’ around Thirsk – and I got back onto the A1 at Leeming and to the 75 mile point inside 3-10 and could see a real PB in prospect. It was then that I discovered how Boro’ could bite you in the bum and become a graveyard. The gentle zephyr that had been helping me to that point was a Southerly and as I rode down the wide open stretches of the A1 it picked up to almost gale force and battered me without any sympathy.

I did an ‘18’ for the last 25 miles. I had to complete the distance as I needed a 100 for my BAR certificate. I never ever rode a fast 100 (or 50) on Boro’ and now never will.

Sunday evening we drove up to Catterick to our digs and the following morning after another rather disturbed night’s sleep, we found the start just North of Catterick. I was still feeling the effects of the previous day’s efforts and Nigel – who was riding fixed went for a warm-up ride and when he got back, I turned his rear wheel around for a bigger gear while he got ready.

After seeing him start I drove down the A1 to watch him a couple of times and was pleased to see how smooth and fast he was pedalling even though he was being caught by several riders, one of whom was a youthful Sid Barras.

Down the slopes approaching the finish he looked to be pedalling his bits off and I was surprised to find that he had only done around a 2-12, I thought he had appeared to be going much faster.

It was only when we stripped his bike down that we discovered the reason.

His rear wheel – which was mine on loan – had an 18 tooth sprocket both sides! In my 100 mile befuddled mind I was oblivious to this when I had turned his wheel around and given him the same 72” gear as he had warmed up on, no wonder he was pedalling fast! I think he has forgiven me since although it is seldom mentioned when we meet.

When I married and moved to Yorkshire in ‘71 I anticipated riding Boro’ and O2 every week and regularly recording times minutes faster than I

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had ever achieved before. I soon discovered the reality was that float days on these courses were not a ‘given’ and that they only occurred occasionally and then only on days when my clubmates were riding and I wasn’t. People who I would beat on a regular basis in club events etc. would post times minutes faster than my PB’s on weekends when I would be away visiting relations or having the ’flu.

However, I consider that some of my ‘best’ rides – not necessarily my fastest – have been on Boro’ on hard days.

Days when the wind blew and a 57 won – and I did an ‘0’ or even a ’59’.

‘Worth a 55 on a good day’ I was regularly and irritatingly informed. I suppose that these sort of performances can be seen as being very rewarding – but not quite the same as doing a ‘flyer’ on a ‘float’ and improving a couple of minutes!

Ain’t nostalgia great!

But not quite the same as it used to be.

Paul Gittins

Planet X employees, team members and Testing Times editorial staff available for early season training camps.

Enjoy the benefit of all our experience and knowledge. Fly us to any exotic destination of your choice, then feed us only the best cuisine available in return for the opportunity to ‘give us a right bending’ up the steepest hills you can find or the longest sessions you care to commit to.

Serious expressions of interest only please to: ian@planet-x-bikes.com ;-) PAGE 11

My Diary … and the first time I rode on Boro’ by Ian Cammish where it turned eastwards and headed towards Thirsk. In those days, this part of the course was only single carriageway and the circuit from Dishforth-Thirsk-Nothallerton Londonderry - Dishforth had to be covered twice before the final 20 mile or so run in down the A1 to finish near Cowthorpe Lane just north of Wetherby.

Result

So, what did I write 22 years ago ... and was I using joined-up writing?

T Mullins (Rockingham CC) 4-12-50 £2

I Cammish (Northampton CC - Vindec) 4-11-19 Prize value £5 M McNamara (Rockingham CC) 4-12-42 £4 J Woodburn (Sydenham CC) 4-12-48 £3 K W Platts (Coalville Whls) 4-14-11 £1

Fifteen miles into the ride at Dishforth roundabout - photo by Bernard Thompson So we’ve heard from the icon of the 20s, 30s and 40s (that’s Mr Gittins by the way!) and his exploits on Boro’ … well that prompted me to spend an hour or so in the loft over a recent weekend (well it beats training doesn’t it?) pulling out diaries to jog my memory a bit! Lo and behold … my first journey up to the infamous Boro’ course took place on Sunday 4 September 1977.

I’d read about this course time and time again in Cycling (the time trial magazine of the day) and the impact it had on people’s times and the country’s leading season long competition the British Best All Rounder. I wanted to go fast too and as the Boro’ seemed the dead cert ticket to achieve that, entered the Yorkshire Century 100 held on the V176. The course started on the northern slip road out of Wetherby and headed north up theA1 past Boroughbridge to Dishforth roundabout (no longer there now!),

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THE GREEN BICYCLE MURDER A Mystery Without a Solution was found, he discovered a discharged Ninety years ago the bullet, embedded in the road. On the countryside to the east of top of the field gate, which was Leicester was criss-crossed painted white, he found the marks of claws, marks made in blood, and in with narrow lanes leading to the field itself lay a large dark bird, uneventful little villages like dead, and apparently gorged with Evington, Stoughton, Kings blood. With the aid of the doctor, the Norton and Gaulby. In midconstable examined the girl’s body summer the hedges were eight again, and this time they found a bulfeet high and the lanes in that let wound just below the eye, and another in her head where the bullet had pre-motorised age were lonely. exited. Clearly, they were dealing not One July evening in 1919, with a bicycle accident but with muraround 9.20 pm, a farmer was der. driving some cows along the lane some two miles from Gaulby, when he came upon a young woman lying in the road, beside a gate leading into a field. Her head was covered with blood and a bicycle lay askew across the road beside her. He saw at once that she was dead, and supposed that she had fallen from her machine and had died of her injuries. The farmer placed her beside the road, saw to his cows and set off for Bella Wright … found lying in help. When he moved her he the road, beside a gate noticed that her body was still leading into a field. warm, suggesting that she had been dead for a very short The dead girl was quickly identified time. By the time a constable as Bella Wright, aged twenty-one, and a doctor arrived at the who lived in the village of Stoughton with her parents. She worked in a facscene, it was dark.

A cursory examination served to confirm the impression of an accidental death, and the body was carried to a cottage nearby. Next morning the constable dutifully returned to the lane to take a second look around, and now he found several things which completely changed his view of the case. A few yards from the spot where the body

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tory in Leicester and was engaged to be married to a merchant seaman. It did not prove difficult to reconstruct her final hours. She had left home at 6.30 pm to cycle to her uncle, a man named Measures, who lived in Gaulby. While she entered his house a young man, also a cyclist waited outside. She explained to her uncle that he was a man she had met on the road,

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a stranger, but she did not complain of him or express any particular concern about him. When she left the house an hour later, the man was still waiting, and he was heard to say, “Bella, you have been a long time – I thought you had gone the other way.” Measures’ son-in-law had some conversation with the man about his bicycle, and then, at around 8.40 pm, the girl and the unknown young man cycled away together. Just forty minutes later, her body was found on the road back to Stoughton. Obviously the man was the prime suspect, and the police possessed a reasonable description of him, and they knew that he owned a green bicycle. Every man in the district who owned such a machine was sought and questioned, but without result.

The months passed, and Bella Wright lay in her grave in Stoughton churchyard, but there was no sign of her suspected killer, and no explanation of the significance of the dead bird. There was not even any agreement on what kind of bird it was: the police reports called it a raven, but bird experts immediately objected that there were no ravens in Leicestershire, and anyway they did not drink blood, therefore it was probably a rook or crow. It was never stated whether the blood was human or not. It should have been possible, even in 1919, to establish this, although it would not have been possible to say whether it was Bella Wright’s.

Her body was found within a very short time of her death: could this bird really have consumed enough blood in a few minutes to cause its own death?

Half a year passed and the mystery looked as though it would remain unsolved for ever. But then in February 1920, a canal barge was drifting slowly through Leicester when the boatman saw his tow-rope tighten as it snagged something beneath the surface. Then, for an instant, it lifted up a bicycle, or at least a part of one, which hung in the air for a moment before slipping back into the water. But that moment was enough: the boatman immediately re-

PAGE 13

called the publicity surrounding the murder, and as soon as he could he set about fishing up the machine: it was green, and it had been partly dismantled. The police took up the search, finding the rest of the bicycle, and a revolver holster, but no gun. There was huge public interest in the case, with crowds watching the police scouring of the canal. The cartridges in the holster proved to be like the one found in the lane by the body, but this meant nothing, as cartridges of that kind had been manufactured by the million during the war years, and thousands of ex-soldiers still kept their service revolvers.

The bicycle proved to be a BSA, with a back-pedal brake, an unusual feature on an English machine. The framenumber, 103648, was still visible, and it proved possible to follow the bike’s trail from the factory to its purchaser. It had been supplied by BSA back in 1910 to a dealer in Derby named Orton, and, with its back-pedal brake, it was special order: this fact alone made it

The evidence being pulled from the canal (above)

his story. Light now acknowledged that his earlier denials had been the result of sheer panic. He now admitted that he had been with Bella Wright on the evening of her death, that the green bicycle

possible to trace the man who bought it. This man was identified as Ronald Light, and, when tracked down, he proved to be a teacher of mathematics in Cheltenham. He was 34 years old, a former pupil of Rugby School, and had served for three years in the war in France. This perhaps explained why he seemed prematurely aged and slightly deaf. He was unmarried, and at the time when Bella Wright met her death, he had been living in Leicester with his mother.

When questioned by the police, Light denied ever having owned a green bicy-

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cle, denied knowing anything of Bella Wight, or having been anywhere near Gaulby at the time. Yet Bella’s uncle and his son-in-law both identified Light as the man they had seen. The circumstantial evidence against him was strong, and he was, inevitably, arrested, and sent for trial. While in prison awaiting trial, a witness heard him exclaiming, “Damn and blast that canal!”

On the opening day of the trial in Leicester Castle, there was an early sensation. His defence lawyer, the celebrated Sir Edward Marshall Hall, announced that his client had changed

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The guilty man? Ronald Light - a teacher of mathematics in Cheltenham was his, and that he had hidden it out of fear. However he maintained that he had nothing to do with her death, and that he had never owned a revolver since he had been sent home from

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France on a stretcher. Light’s appearance impressed the court: he was serious, calm and dignified, and, although he could not be described as a war hero, he was a evidently a man who had suffered in the service of his country. What account then did he give of his meeting with Bella Wright ?

He said he met her in the lanes as she was standing by her bicycle, and he had asked her if there was anything wrong.

She said her front wheel was loose, and asked him if he had any spanners with him. He had not, but her bicycle seemed quite rideable, so they went on together to her uncle’s house in Gaulby. Here he waited for her, but when she re-appeared he did not address her by her name, which he never knew, but said, “Hello, you have been a long time.” Light went on to say that they had ridden together for only ten minutes when his tyre began to soften.

It was clear that he would have to walk home and so she left him at a crossroads, where she took the lane to Stoughton, while he took a more direct road back to Leicester. He walked the entire way home, getting back around ten o’clock. A few days later, when he read about the death in the newspapers and heard about the search for the man with the green bicycle, he was terrified, broke up the machine and threw it into the canal. This was his story, and five hours of cross-examination failed to shake it in any detail.

Sir Edward Marshall Hall then questioned witnesses closely about the shooting itself. He argued that a bullet fired from a few feet away should have blown out the back of the skull, and it should have travelled much further.

There was no actual evidence that the bullet found in the road was the fatal bullet at all. Hall made the intriguing suggestion that Bella might have been killed by a rifle bullet, fired from a distance, from the adjacent field. There was no evidence that Light had ever been seen with a gun, and why should he go out for a summer bicycle ride in the English country lanes carrying a loaded gun? What motive could he possibly have for killing Bella, who not been assaulted in any way? His defence was a powerful one, and when the unanimous verdict of “Not Guilty” came, it was cheered in the court and outside. Ronald Light walked free, and lived until 1975, dying at the age of 90,

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Wanted … information leading to the apprehension of Annie Bella Wright’s murder. but without ever speaking about the case again. Somehow the local bike shop in Evington got hold of the notorious green bicycle and exhibited it there for some time after the trial. No other person was ever sought or arrested for the crime. Bella Wright’s family remained convinced that the guilty man had been set free. This reminds us of the personal suffering in this and in all murder cases. The public cares only for the puzzle, the great question, “Who did it?” and they forget the human tragedy.

So who did kill Bella Wright, and why? In spite of Sir Edward Marshall Hall, everything seems to point to Ronald Light: he was with her only thirty minutes before her death, and no one else was even seen nearby. But this was all circumstantial, and the fatal weakness in the case against him was the lack of a gun to connect him with the crime. But what could be easier than to drop a gun into a canal ?

Perhaps it was lying there, a few yards away from the bicycle and the holster, and perhaps Light’s saving stroke of luck was that it happened never to be found. In a modern trial, the ballistic and medical evidence would also have investigated far more thoroughly: what exactly was the nature of Bella’s wound, and what kind of weapon

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would have caused it?

And what of the mysterious dead bird?

At the trial neither side was able to make anything of it. It was not subject to intense scientific examination, as it would be now. Was it even connected with the death at all? Here, Hall’s idea of an accident comes into play. Suppose someone were out with a rifle or a shotgun in that adjacent field, and suppose they saw a large black crow perched on a white gate: they fire at it, and hit the bird, but at precisely that moment, a girl on a bicycle appears in the gateway, and is tragically hit by the same fatal shot. The distance involved would explain the nature of the wound, and why the bullet travelled no further.

The man, whoever he was, then rushes away across country as fast as he can, is seen by no one, and never comes forward. Far-fetched? Perhaps, but not impossible. On the other hand later investigators managed to unearth some stories about Ronald Light which suggested that he was definitely a misfit, and may have had some dark secrets in its his life. But a misfit is not therefore a murderer, and the fact is that no evidence was found to connect Light with Bella’s death.

If we accept the verdict of the jury – as perhaps we should – the green bicycle murder is no nearer a solution now than it was when Light’s trial ended, and it probably never will be. The homely detail of the bicycle, rarely in its history associated with murder, contrasts with the macabre puzzle of the bird gorged with blood – if indeed it had anything to do with the case at all. The lanes east of Leicester are less lonely now than they were, but the memory of these events is still alive in those villages, and many people have made the journey from Gaulby to Stoughton, following in the footsteps of Bella Wright and the man with the green bicycle, and wondering who he was – if he was not Ronald Light – and what really passed between them.

Peter Whitfield

PAGE 15

A Peek into Santa’s Musette Frankly Franklin's unexpected trip to the seaside resulted in a welcome encounter and provided the inspiration (and facts) for this Christmas story.

Those of you who have read Raymond Briggs' Father Christmas Goes on Holiday will already know that during his summer break he likes to take well deserved jaunts to exotic places such as France and Las Vegas.

This year Rudolph, Prancer, Vixen, Blitzen et al towed his ubiquitous holiday home to The Beach somewhere down in the South of Thailand where I found him after having got lost on a club run 1200 miles north of the same country.

'I'm sure Chiang Mai is somewhere around here, after all I have been riding for 12 hours or so' I thought to myself. Problem with living in this country is that if you get lost and don't speak the lingo, there is absolutely no way that you can communicate with the locals. You just have to keep pedalling. And keep pedalling I did.

Mind you, it was really very nice to see the seaside. I've been surrounded by mountains and paddy fields for far too long and the air fare from here to the southern islands is a bit steep. I kept on riding at my usual time trial pace (something around 15mph), rounded a corner and lo and behold I came across a wonderful sandy beach, not too crowded but populated with bright red fat tourists, wunderkids in bikinis and an assortment of local traders offering them battered prawns, leg massage, wooden croaking frogs and in a few cases what is euphemistically known as ‘friendship’.

This was the place to resolve my dilemma and find out how to get home. I found this lovely couple

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Raymond Briggs’ Father Christmas goes on Holiday (right) ... like it says on the tin!

roasting themselves under the burning sun: “Excuse me”, I said, “Could you tell me the way to Chiang Mai?” “Жаль, я не говорю на тайском языке, спрашиваю кого - то еще Вы дурак,” came the reply.

I tried asking another sun-baked tourist: “Schade, ich spreche Thai nicht, frage jemanden anderen Sie Irrer.” I tried again: “Ci dispiace, non parlo thai, chiedere a qualcun altro è pazzo”, she answered. I carried on like this for some considerable time.

Ukrainians, Spaniards, Germans and Italians - The Beach was full of them, but there wasn't one English speaker amongst them. “Wir haben die Engländer anderswohin gesandt, weil sie alle Liegestühle monopolisieren”, a German sunbather explained. 'Ahh', I thought, 'so that's why there are no British sunbathers here!'

Of course, once you have this problem, there is nothing to do but wander along the coastal roads, buy an ice cream or two, eat the odd plate of noodles, ring home and explain to the Mrs why you'll be late for tea.

I continued, up a slight hill, a bit more climbing and then I was able to look down into these little coves, lonely deserted beaches with palm trees gently swaying in the seaside breeze.

Rounding the next bend, there was this little footpath which wended its way back onto a beach - just about rideable on my GP4000s and it looked very

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inviting. So down I went.

Now all of you out there whose Sunday club runs are confined to traffic laden roads in temperatures as low as or below nought degrees, should by now be feeling a little jealous (especially at this time of the year when the roads are too icy to ride on anyway). That's the idea, but sit back and relax as there is more to come!

Indeed there was more to come! I parked my bike in the shade of a coconut tree, removed my Specialized shoes and socks and ventured onto the smooth and beautiful sand. As I did so I caught site of just one person in the whole of this cove. He walked towards me, and as he got closer I thought that I recognised this portly fellow with what seemed like ice cream or sea foam around his face. And then, when he was just three metres away I thought, 'Yes! I know who this is …… it can't be ………… but it is! It's got to be …….'

“Hello” I said, “Haven't we met before?”

“I think no” he replied in heavily accented English.

“Yes we have”, I said, and then explained “You used to have a job in Trinder's toy shop every December. I sat on your knee once and asked you if I could have a bicycle for Christmas.

But all I got was a lump of ice.”

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At this he looked very uncomfortable.

“Deed you? Waz that at Twinder’s in, now let me see, in ninety fiftee ate in a place called Fakestone?”

zem ze question same answer!”

“Yes, yes” I replied “But I never understood why all I got that Christmas was an icicle. After all, I hadn't been that naughty during the preceding year.”

“Veree vell zen”, he replied “I vould like you to fellow me. Iz zat good?”

“Ah, yes.” He thought for a minute and then said “I remember now, I thought you said 'icicle'. I could not have 'eard the 'B' - so it was a Bicicle you wanted, hein? But how was the icicle?”

“My mother always told me that I should never look a gift horse in the mouth, but I must tell you that the bloody thing melted!”

“Never matter” he said “I am sure you 'ave 'ad many bicicles since then!”

Well, this little exchange proved that the person in front of me was indeed Santa and not just some escapee from a fancy dress party. He had a long white beard, kindly eyes, a blue and white striped long sleeve t-shirt and the largest pair of red and white spotted shorts that you've ever seen. In fact, he was straight out of Briggs' book. It was him, no doubt!

He sat on the sand next to me and was clearly a little lonely. I had the distinct impression that my company was welcome and that he was up for a chat.

What a great opportunity to delve into the hidden secrets of Santa world. “I was wondering” I said to him “how you manage to carry all the presents for everyone in the world in such a small sack.”

“It eez wun of Santa's little see crets”, he answered.

“But … it's not only the sheer volume of toys and bits that you deliver, it's the whole world you have to speed round.

In such a short time too!”

“You are a bi cyclist, hein? You are understood about speed. Ullrich, Schumacher, Pantani, Virenque - all zees people ride the cycable so much fartster than you, right? You must ask

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“I would really like to know more” I said.

Well, follow him I did. We walked up the beach until we saw a group of reindeers munching seaweed at the water's edge and just behind them a kind of old-fashioned caravan (see Raymond Briggs' book for a good artists' impression). It was red with a little chimney stack sticking up at the back. There were harnesses at the front and I guessed that these were to enable the reindeers to pull this contraption through the sky.

“I vould much like you to come into my leetle 'ouse ere and see my sack.”

I did as I was bid and followed him up the crinkly steps into the caravan. I was a bit nervous here because it is a bit dodgy going into some lonely old guy's caravan on a deserted beach - so if there are any juniors or juveniles reading this, be very very careful. None of my actions should be copied by you.

Ok? [Inserted at the request of the health and safety department, Planet X, up north somewhere.]

But his next move made me even more nervous. “Now poot your 'ead in the sack, pleeze.” Now if he hadn't said 'please' I definitely would not have done it. As soon as I bent over with my head in the sack he gave me a ruddy great shove with his black boot and I went whirling and swirling downwards into a huge and different world full of toys and presents and little elves running about. 'So that's the answer', I thought 'It's just like the wardrobe in Narnia - you disappear into the sack and emerge in an entirely different place. Magic Santa, indeed!'

Once I had settled down, got my bearings and overcome the shock of being booted up the behind by Santa, I started to enjoy what I could see. What was interesting was looking at the labels and seeing just which presents were going where. Obviously I could get some insight into what people like

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To55er were going to receive this coming Christmas and I found some interesting stuff. If you see him, don't tell him, but I think he's getting some go faster stripes for his old skool bike.

Cavendish? They've only gone and got him a school cap and a school uniform with short trousers (well, we're not used to school kids winning the Milan-San Remo, are we?). What else did I find … ah yes! Here's one for Dave Lloyd. It's a book called How to Write an Autobiography.

Hutchinson? A training programme and a can of Guinness to help him get the 25 record next season. That's appropriate. Dave Loughran: a bag full of money to add to his already considerable wealth. Gordon Brown: a rubber duck (…… must be for a different person of the same name).

Now here's an interesting one: a Tour de France game for Ken Livingstone (must be getting into cycling); Bradley Wiggins: a lassoo to attach himself to Cancellara next time he comes whizzing past. And so on …… oh yes me? A map of Thailand so I can get back to Chiang Mai (a bit late, I think). But I won't give all the secrets away, you'll know soon enough.

And then I found about fifteen hippopotamuses milling about in a corner. Each had labels carrying the name of a professional racing cyclist.

“I wonder what they're for?” I asked myself. I stored that one up for later.

All of a sudden I emerged from this world sooner than I expected. I suddenly felt this force that dragged me spiralling upwards until, emerging from the sack, I found myself back in Santa's little caravan, in a cove, on a beach, in Thailand.

“Wow!” I said “That was very very interesting, but why did you get all of these hippos for those cyclists.”

“Yes, I woz wunderin' zat my shelf”, he said “But I can tell that eech of zees cycling persons, when zey sat on my knee zey asked for an eepo. So if zat is wot zey want, zey can 'ave a leetle eepo, hein?”

Ian Franklin PAGE 17

Sue Fenwick tracks down …

MARGARET ALLEN Which female time triallist from Yorkshire won national championships over a 30 year period, represented her country in European and World road races, yet never got to go to the Olympics? Yes Beryl Burton, but there’s another person too, often overlooked and always understated— the lovely Margaret Allen. Sue Fenwick caught up with our other Fast Yorkshire Lady.

Margaret’s first national championship medal was Margaret starting one of the National Championships she rode in the silver in the 1964 ‘100’ won early 80s. Photo courtesy of a fan :-)

by Beryl. From 1983-1993 she won individual and team golds at every distance: individual BAR in 87 and 88, ‘100’ in mate Debbie Pearson asked what I’d your bike, not racing. The season was 89 and 91, ‘50’ in 88, ‘25’ in 88m ‘10’ done, she swore when I told her I much shorter and the working week in 90, team ‘100’ in 83, 84, 86, 87, 88, thought I’d done a 54, then she stood by longer—5.5 days and 50 hours.”

89 and 92, team ‘50’ in 84 and 85, the result board waiting. When the time team ‘25’ in 89 and 93, and team ‘10’ came up she screamed, swore again, In common with Beryl, Margaret in 83, 84, 87, 88, 89, 90, 92 and shouted “You’ve done a 54 dead!” and suffered a serious health setback in 93. Many of her 1980s team rides were threw her arms round me. It was the childhood—she unknowingly dislocated done with her sisters Maureen Pearson second-fastest-ever 25 by a woman, her hip in a road accident, carried on and Katherine Mitchell and her 1990s done on a roadbike too, no tribars or cycling but limped when walking, was rides done with her daughter Katie discs.” eventually hospitalised and put into (1998 BAR). traction for 12 months, celebrating her Born to cycling parents, and with a 13th birthday in hospital.

Her fondest timetrialling memory famous cycling uncle, Eddie Larkin, though was the day in September who was set to represent Britain at “That’s why my back is so strong – a 1987 on the E72 where she recorded Olympic level until the outbreak of year spent with a 16lb weight hanging 54.00. “I was catching the men in front WWII, Margaret was destined to be a off the end of each foot”. In 1964 she of me, knew I was on a ride. Everyone cyclist, her early years spent on attended national squad selection trials in the laybys was standing, looking clubruns and youth hostelling. at Loughborough and although she shocked as I went by. Just before the wasn’t picked, the coaches remembered finish, there’s a tricky bend where you “There was no track scene near us, only her having the strongest back out of all got disqualified if you crossed the the men and women from her session on 5 or 6 road races per year and not too white line, so I took it steady. Team many time trials so it was about riding the back strength apparatus.

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Margaret found another route to international honours – piloting for blind stokers in tandem road races and track pursuits. Partnering Elspeth Brown, she represented Britain in European and World disabled cycling road and track championships from 1988-91. They were selected to represent Britain at the 1992 Barcelona Paralympics but the events were cancelled due to too few entries. A second chance came in 1996 with the Atlanta Paralympics but again, things didn’t work out well.

rode our bikes. An average of 250 miles a week. Now I’d be pushed to fit in 100 a week! Maureen and I ran a part-time business together. On Mondays we would do a 50 mile loop. Our parents had a caravan at Mablethorpe, 96 miles each way, they’d drive down with the children at weekends, we’d cycle.

Never cycled in the dark except to club night. When racing came, weather warmed up so we’d go faster. I always spun a 59” gear and when my four children were young, I spent years cycling with them on the back of a tandem or in a trailer. Gives you strong legs! During winter I used to run and “I was so tired. We were training at Manchester track. That style of training do circuit training too, keeps the fitness up, rests the cycling muscles and works didn’t suit me, and the two hour journey each way on top wore me out. I other muscles.” was on the downhill slope of my racing “Today I do a spinning class once a career too.” week and mainly ride tandem with my husband Graham. Maureen has a boat in “However I’m proud that we did pioneer cycling for ladies Paralympics. Portugal so we’ve just had a month out there of riding solos. It’s good to get up One of my best memories is a 2-day international tandem blind roadrace in a hill by my own efforts again. I even France, all-male, all-female and mixed wondered briefly if I should start racing tandems in one event. The atmosphere again in 2010!” was fantastic. All the documents in French, I read them out, Elspeth Whether or not we ever see Margaret translated. We won an outstanding racing again, the Allen dynasty is far riders award for finishing consistently from over. Daughter Katie and her high up across the three events: two 40 husband Chris have just celebrated mile road races and a 20 mile prothe arrival of their daughter, born on logue.”

Armistice Day 2009, so in about 18 “Another memory was a Belgian road race and afterwards a mixed shower block where the men took very long showers so they could see all the women. We waited and waited but still they stayed. I was embarrassed so in the end, shut my eyes and kept them closed, so neither Elspeth nor I saw anything we didn’t want to see!”

The grey column: Where you could input. Still no more unsung heroes … surely Gordon’s not the only one? Who’s yours? Tell us on ian@planet-x-bikes.com Who’s hot in the world of domestic time trialling? It’s winter out there … ok?

Who’s not hot in the world of domestic time trialling? Anyone who’s out there training in the cold.

Coming soon: www.thetestingtimes.co.uk/

http://tt-weekly.com/index.htm

years’ time, if you read a start sheet and see a rider with first name “Ella Poppy”, you’ll know the Allen story continues.

“Spending time with Elspeth was special. When all your senses work, you take your senses for granted, but take one away and life becomes very different. Elspeth has learnt to live with her disability. It’s a shame more ablebodied people can’t see past a person’s appearance or disability to see the person underneath.”

What sort of training leads a rider to both short and long distance honours?

“We never called it training. We just

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PAGE 19

GAMBLING … on surviving Christmas

county. Even worse, they could fuse you permanently to the national grid.

Mick Gambling contributed around 5000 articles, race reports, interviews etc for Cycling Weekly, formerly Cycling. They encompassed a 40-year period, 1965 to 2004 and half that period, to 1985, included light-hearted pieces.

Many were topical for the period, although some are still relevant to the present time. A taste of these will be produced on a regular basis. Mick is still alive and pedaling in Norfolk.

There was a time when Christmas cycling activities were social gatherings in country hostelries. Ghost stories were told around a log fire and everyone rode home, with blobs of white dynamo light on the trees, leaving wheelmarks in the snow.

Not any more they don’t, for Christmas has become very competitive in recent years. If the three Wise Men came now they would be lined out into the wind and in the spirit of the manger there would be some subtle robe-pulling.

The longer racing season, basic winter miles, cyclo-cross, Christmas time trials and road events take us through the festive season with limited opportunity for protracted celebrating. Oh, yes, there are still the odd spectacular binges, but it doesn’t amount to a full scale Yuletide like they used to make.

Now the suffering and enjoyment are so close together you can’t see the join.

If you are the new competitive breed you will not want vital energy sapped before Christmas For example, shopping is very laborious and heavy work, rally painful to the calves, and should be left to the wife, girl friend or mum. By all means make a list for your shopper, but don’t be too fussy, because whatever you send people they will already have three of them. Really, the

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Santa beat Gambling in the sprint by this much!

Happy Christmas. whole swop around is only a means of exchanging paper and string.

At the same time, remember your tame shopper is likely to be in the big league as far as buying you a present is concerned, so broad hints about needing tubulars should hit the target.

If the girl friend is a new acquisition, then show her a tubular, because otherwise you may well get a couple of small-wheel inner tubes.

This pre-Yuletide period is also that in which the decorations are put up, so again, a little task for the ladies.

However, if trapped into the job, then bring back one of those synthetic silver ones that fit in a cylinder and can be rooted out of the roof for years.

Enquire when the tree and room are being decorated and ensure you are out that evening. If all deceit fails and you are cornered into helping, then my tip is watch out for glass balls. They roll about all over the place, and if you jump off a chair on to one in your stockinged feet, then you could be out of the game until the following September.

There is a tendency for relations to assume that because you’re an athlete you are just the chap for blowing up balloons. What they don’t appreciate is that gasping for air in a race is completely opposite to repeatedly emptying lungs into rubber bags until they become transparent. You will probably get a wicked headache, a hacking cough and shell-shock from having balloons exploding up your nose. For every ten balloons your racing career will be shortened by a season.

The adroit racing man will also avoid the nervous tension and painful piggybacking of children’s parties. These are the functions in which ceilings are covered in jelly and kids are sick on the carpet. Unless you hide everything they will pocket your medals, put jam on your tourist trial certificates and get into the cycle shed. A trained mechanic could not remedy in a month the damage a small boy can do in five minutes.

Adult parties are also dangerous for the competitive type, because you can get the wrong side of too much alcohol just keeping up with the others, which means you’ll do a personal worst in that important race. Office and works parties are also tricky because that pert little typist looks even better under the mistletoe or in what little light gets into the brush cupboard. Very nice at the time, but just as you are leaving for the Christmas ‘10’ a big bloke will come to the door and punch your face in.

In fact, chair-climbing to put paper chains up is too much for the dedicated thoroughbred thighs of a cyclist. That also goes for getting them down, when in addition to your gear-changing fingers will be cut and bleeding from prising out drawing pins.

Christmas is supposed to be when families get together. It is also when relatives talk about other relatives unable to be present. Try some cycling talk and you will just get a huge pool of silence. Just when you want to get into an aggressive Engers mood for a race the jolly kinsfolk will be working relays on the conversation with the latest news of their bad backs and weight problems.

Avoid small bulbous tree lights, for they never work and can absorb three valuable training nights. Fool with these and you can black out half the

You may feel all my gratuitous advice is out of keeping with your proper seasonal spirit. If so, I’ll see you down the pub.

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PLANET X OLD SKOOL SERIES … 2010 Buoyed by the success of the 2009 Series (and the fact that it’s front-man Ian Cammish was unable to off-load his white Guerciotti on ebay), the Old Skool committee is pleased to announce a further Series for 2010. Bearing in mind most riders found riding 25 miles ‘old skool’ too bloody hard, changes will be made to lessen the likelihood that any serious injury is going to be inflicted on any of the old fogies taking part.

Cammish’s back–garden on the superfast F2A/10 course. If he fails to pull off a win in that, he hopes to be able to influence Dave Poulter (of the Wrekinsport CC) into swinging the results in his favour in (what WILL be) a much hyped-up revenge match in September.

Long negotiations have been taking place nationwide with organisers of some of the country’s most prestigious time trials in an effort to draw up a list of suitable events. Finally, the select five were announced at a recent press launch which was hosted by Ian Cammish in his front room one evening while his wife was out with her lady friends fleecing their husbands’ bank accounts doing late night Christmas shopping at Cambridge’s Grand Arcade.

The real ‘biggy’ of the series will undoubtedly be Team Sanjan’s hosting of the inaugural Old Skool National 10 mile championship held in virtually

Colin ‘the Power’ Parkinson (left) took the time trial world by storm during 2009 by thrashing the country’s leading Old Skoolers into the ground. He’s since gone on to make a successful career out of advertising and endorsements.

Whether or not he can be ar5ed to return for more of the same in 2010 remains to be seen.

Photo courtesy of Mike Anton

THE events for 2010 … be there AND be square!

Good Friday 2 Apr City RC Hull 10 V178 Sat 24 April Bath CC 10 U47 Sat 1 May Cambridge CC 10 F2D/10 Sat 12 Aug Team Sanjan “Old Skool National Championship 10” F2A/10 Sat 25 Sept Wrekinsport “Revenge / grudge match 10 for failed National Championship Contenders” K52/10

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r e t t it Bradley Johnston emerges from the doom and gloom of a mid-winter’s afternoon in Doncaster at the Planet X Carcroft warehouse in little more than a bright yellow pair of football shorts, a skimpy black footie top, a big broad smile and a ’cheap-as-chips’ David Dickinson suntan to ask if Planet X is having a road team for 2010.

Excitement all round as Dave suggests there maybe a place available in a new team being formed by (amongst others….sshhhh!) Cherie Pridham ... nudge nudge wink wink! Cammish is aroused (unusual at his time of life) as Dave reads through Bradley's cycling CV. “Weaknesses...sprinting? No

Planet X and Testing Times enjoy a little titter problem ... you can lead out Cammish.

Just get him to 100 metres to go and your job’s done … the race is won.

Isn’t that right Cammish? Anyone see where Cammish went?”

The MoD at war! Not enough troops in Iraq. Too few helicopters. And now one of Gordon Brown’s closest confidants retires after 33 years service citing “irreconcilable differences” as his reason to jump ship. This will undoubtedly leave the MoD in really deep poo. But just who is it? ;-) More titter! The fastest Customer Service team in the industry...surely?

Ian Cammish and Ray Eden are rumoured to be heading up Planet X’s customer service team in 2010. Eden is

reported to be eagerly looking forward to 69 sessions in an evening (presumably these will be fitting sessions?) while Cammish has his eyes firmly set on Planet Xs record for answering as many email enquiries as possible in a day. He’s started as he means to go on with monosyllabic answers (… erm … like ‘yes’ and ‘no’) irrespective of the complexity of the enquiry. God help Planet X and its customers. … and … which ‘has-been’ yearning for the long lost glory days of old is now training full-time in his bid to turn back the clock? Marathon training sessions with sparring partner 23minman have started … updates to be found on the TT Forum!

THE TT CHARITY FUND’S CALENDAR IS GOING FAST! The first run of 500 of is almost sold out … but the next order is on its way. Oder now in time for Christmas.

A copy signed by all the lovely ladies...and not so lovely men...will shortly be auctioned on ebay with the winning bid going to the charities. Keep your eyes open here http://www.timetriallingforum.co.uk/

To order your copy contact: adele@castaway-tackle.co.uk or sarah-brooke@tiscali.co.uk … only a fiver!

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THE EX-TERROR OF RINGWOOD TAKES TIME OUT WITH NOB’S Q & A SESSION Now a fixed wheel stalwart answers a few questions. This ex-Bournemouth Jubilee Wheeler was the terror of Ringwood in the 70’s. He is none other than Nick Frewin who many may remember from his DQ at the 1979 ‘25’ National Championships when seeded and a favourite for a medal. He came to the start line without his lock ring would you believe! Thanks to the Legends Thread on the TT forum he came out of hiding and has made a recent comeback, once again on a trusty fixed wheel machine.

He says he will give it a serious go next year even if he’s moved up ‘norf’. We say good luck to you Nick - Old Skool would be game on for you!

Full name? Nick Frewin despite what my Mum thinks - don't know why but she thinks my name is Nicholas. I used to get called Nicky by Bill McMullen, long time president of BJW. Height? 6' 2" Weight? Around 13st at present.

Place of residence? Sheffield now, I ended up here in a round about way, but mainly due to work.

Current club? JE James RT. I ride for them mainly cos I've bought most of my new equipment from them. Still might rejoin BJW, but being with JE James means I should be able to get on

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Eddy Merckx, still in my opinion the best ever.

Biggest influence on your career?

There are a few, Eddy Merckx as already mentioned, but also within the Jubilee, 'Atty' (ie George Attenborough), one of those stalwart, rock steady, totally dependable clubmen and William Suttie, who was my best mate and a fast junior when I started. Getting to be good enough to beat him was my objective for the first couple of years.

Nick in a Gentleman’s 2up with his dad from 1978 to the V718 easier!

Campagnolo or Shimano?

Definitely Campag in the 70s/80s. No preference now, very little these days has the beauty of the original Campag Nuovo Record rear mech.

Favourite musical group or singer?

Pink Floyd and Christina Aguilera

Most memorable moment? 3 things here - 1. Being part of the most important 25 ever.... Alf's 49 on E72; 2.

Getting stopped from riding the 79 National 25 due to not having a lock ring fitted to the sprocket of my fixed machine; and 3. Going under in the ‘79 Crabwood medium Gear 25 - 59:18 to Tony Doyle's 58:44 and thereafter being on chatting terms with a World Champion.

Educational attainment 5 GCEs

Most embarrassing moment? Same as no 2 above. Getting a start number of 90 in a National (when the National field was still only 120), being mentioned in the pre-race article in the comic as a contender, and then not even being allowed to turn a pedal having driven 150-odd miles to get there.

Your best achievement is? 59:18 on a medium gear.

Who was your boyhood hero? My dad, I used to like to look at the few photos he had of himself when he was racing at Herne Hill. And of course

Best TV show? Heroes or anything on Eurosport.

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What’s the most trouble you have gotten into? Never really got into trouble!!

Pet hates? Germans, Americans and Australians.... order variable depending on what's happening at the time. And dickhead drivers!!

Current job? Higher Executive Officer with a Govt Department.

Current make of car Nissan Qashqai Married or single? Married

Best film? Top Gun

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Favourite actor and actress Long time favourite is Erica Eleniak... people will have to Google her... but a few clues Baywatch and Under Siege. But she'd have to fight Lindsay Lohan for me. Not got a favourite actor.......... just as well you're not asking the Missus this question, there wouldn't be room in one addition of Testing Times.

Favourite drink? Grolsch Favourite food? Pizza Which country would you most like to visit? Japan Is there anything you would change throughout your cycling career?

Despite having some talent at TTs my love was probably track racing. My ultimate would have been to be a 6 day rider. Unfortunately, living in Bournemouth there was no opportunity to really give the track a go. We had Poole Track League which was a circular path round a cricket pitch, or Southampton 30 mile away, which was at least track shaped but with a very shallow banking. We also had Calshot for winter training. There was no league like there is now.... so there was no chance of progressing on the track without moving away, and that just didn't happen in those days. I really am envious of the current set up with the BC Academy for up and coming riders.

Favourite piece of cycling kit you'd like to own or own? My Roy Thame track frame, which did come out to play this year and got me a 22, although it is way too big by today's standards.

Favourite Time Trial Course and why? P201... because it was my local course and where I had my greatest successes. Also the H1, because of the nostalgia that went with it. How many great riders will have lined up to start in Pangbourne Lane?

What advice can you give to up and coming cyclists? Set yourself targets with rewards to go with achieving those targets, e.g. new bits of kit.

10 years from now you will be…?

No idea........ Retired and hopefully

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Nick riding a Kiveton Park Evening 10 during 2009 riding my bike. After my recent incident with a car, I’ve yet to get on my bike again, even on rollers or the turbo.

What can’t you live without?

Tootifrewti.......... errrrr that's Mrs Frewin when on the time trialling forum.

What other interests do you have?

How much paper have you got .........?

Bonsais, flying model gliders..... and more recently a rekindling of my enjoyment of sailing since me and Helen... (That’s yet another name that Mrs Frewin uses) bought a small yacht on Derwent Water in the Lakes.

Who would you share a desert island with if marooned and why?

Tootifrewti... cos she's my soul mate........... but I'd have to hide Vicky Pendleton in a palm tree somewhere.

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Favourite clothing material (PVC, Lycra, wool etc..) Lycra....... women cyclists in Lycra … mmmmmmmmm.

Thank you Nic for being so candid and wish you success in 2010.

May I wish all our readers and our Editorial Team and Contributors a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. I hope my small articles have been entertaining and that Lord Cammish has been pleased with my efforts on nearly 1 year of Testing Times.

Sir Nob of Two Ghiblis

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