April 12th, The Southport Rumble.

The "Southport Rumble" was another version of a ride we first did as a club in 2003. "The Southport Sprint", as it was then very lamely named, was a quick dash west across a vast array of cabbage fields, a burn up down the coast road and a similar slog home through the north's arable fertile plains. It was mentioned to me that Bob Shaw had turned his nose up at the prospect of another dull bash through the Wigan area. It was a fair comment and probably some of the reason that I couldn't motivate myself to do it last year. 2009 needed a new route and a new crap name, "The Southport Rumble".

The ride has always been based on roads that I know well from my years cycling around the north west. I was born and raised in Southport and have lived in the Wigan area, Warrington and Salford. This year I chose to take the route further north than we have done before. I was able to use a whole bunch of hills and roads that are so much a part of the north west I grew up in. This outward leg of the route would dispel the myth that the Southport ride was flat.

Blessed with glorious spring sunshine the gathering at Hazel Grove was impressive. Leaving at 7.30am enabled us to head directly into Manchester and out through Cheetham Hill without any worries of heavy traffic. It was, as expected, very quiet. It's a good way to get quickly north and into some great areas rarely explored by riders living south of city.

The Tubb and Genders duo played their part to perfection and bailed out on the drag up to Middleton after a mere 9miles. Andy and Dave are great blokes and one day I'll have the pleasure of doing a whole bike ride with them.

Up and on through Birch we replayed the glory of Will's Division title win in 1999. That was a brilliant day where Will and Johnny Hargreaves rode a tactical masterpiece to bag the trophy. Emmet Hogan's celebratory mounting of the winner was also a memorable feature of the proceedings which was only bettered at the club dinner later that year when he poured a bowel of soup into Hamish Haynes's lap. What a character, where are you now Emmet?

Leaving the city behind we climbed the Ashworth Valley in good time. This was a strong group of riders whom were all very capable of riding the hills together. In the shadow of Knowl Moor, the view back into Manchester is stunning with the tower blocks of the city centre the most prominent feature.

Continuing North through Edenfield and onto Rawtenstall, we climbed up past the dry ski slope and over to Haslingdon. From there we ascended Haslingdon Grane with stories of bravery and torture from past editions of the now defunct tour of Lancashire. Whilst Jimmy Froggatt and Greg Newton tapped out a steady rhythm up to the summit, the group remained intact with nobody struggling. Matt Evans might have looked like the outsider at the start but he was a different man to the rider who dragged himself around the ride in 2007. Leaner and very fit, Matt cruised up the hills without even a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. It did however pour out of his hands and turn his white bar tape black across the top of his bars.

Down through Edgeworth and Turton Bottoms we made our way west towards the giant mast on top of Winter Hill that is visible from all over the north. The road climbs up the northern flank of the hill and the view from the top is vast. To the north is the lake district, Blackpool tower and the Ribble Estuary whilst Southport gasworks is easily recognisable to the west. Further south is the docks at Liverpool and of course the Welsh hills just visible through the haze of the day. The sea is a great sight from a good 20 miles away and downhill all of the way.

Dropping down Sheephouse Lane we said our goodbyes to Jimmy Froggat. Whilst Jimmy headed to his Sunday dinner, we dropped through the pretty lanes and across the head of Anglezarke reservoir. The climb up to Little Scotland had a super strong Harry Shaw dragging us along at a tremendous pace. It took us a little while to get him on the front but he was awesome, in fact, he never mentioned his age once which is surely a hint of the cracking form he is currently enjoying.

Once through Standish and the hills all behind us, the pace picked up. A bit of half wheeling with Harry for a bit of fun and we bowled along onto land long since reclaimed from the sea. The lanes around Croston were places I cycled around when I was 12, with a friend in search of fishing ponds. It was all very familiar and the embanked River Douglas and the seaward bound Rufford branch of the Leeds to Liverpool canal brought back memories of giant Pike, flounders and vicious mud fights.

The rich soils of the drained marshes to the south of the Ribble are divided up with quiet flat lanes. Greenhouses and ditches lined the last miles as we passed the pumping station used to drain acres of reclaimed land via a maze of ditches and sluices. Once through Banks, it's only a mile or two before we landed at the Botanic Gardens for beans and cakes.

The old cafe at the Botanic is as it was when I was a child and probably unchanged since Victorian times. If you have children and are looking for a day out, it's worth a visit with a museum, animal pens, boats, swings and all of the stuff that are associated with a traditional Victorian park.

Within 20 minutes of arriving there, another Will's Wheels figure arrived at the cafe. Robin had missed us at Hazel Grove and proceeded to the cafe under his own direction. Without any map or assistance, Robin headed west to Liverpool and turned right at Aintree before heading up the coast to Southport. I was astounded and have to give Robin a man of the match award for that one. It was brilliantly timed and despite a good performance during the afternoon, Robin would also get the "Biggest Bonk" prize as his legs turned to jelly on the return leg. Top Man.

We set a good pace on the flat roads that weave their way between land drains and dusty arable land before we hit the first of the climbs on the return leg. Ashurst Beacon is a long drag and grinds on for around two miles. It's funny how those that you forgot were there by their absence from the front seem to appear fresh legged for the climbs. "Lazy Phil" in fine fettle and beginning to show some class as a bike rider, jumped up the road spinning a little gear effortlessly up the hill. The battle of Billinge hill was also won by a front shirker as Jason jumped away near the summit of this stiff little climb. To be fair, these boys did eventually come and do some solid turns on the front, but come on guys, how's about sharing it on the way out as well.

By the time we reached the toll bridge we were well up on my original schedule. A good strong group and favourable conditions had kept us moving quickly and efficiently. "Ar Chris" had been ribbed on Saturday for even considering to come on the ride but was going like a train on the day. He was climbing well, the best I've ever seen, and the distance didn't seem to phase him at all. Will and I both had him down as a bonk casualty but he shone brightly all the way to the end. Hugh Joseph was as strong and reliable as we've come to expect and it was good to see Mike Turner going well.

Whilst the group was strong I was surprised to see Bob Shaw hiding in the Wheels. Bob is a stalwart of the front position usually but was not having a good day. Mark Scholes was also lacking in the form department. I had expected Mark to be a force to be reckoned with in the hills but he was well below par. Maybe Harry had pinched his breakfast.

The run in through Dunham Massey and to the south of the airport was easy going and at the end of the ride we'd covered the 140 miles that I had originally calculated. It was a cracking day with good weather, good country and some good company. Many thanks to all of you who turned up and made the day such a good laugh. I've missed doing some of those rides and look forward to the Ninebanks weekend and the "Mystery Monster" to come. Watch this space.

More pics in the 2009 gallery.

Chris Riley.