Nelson Wheelers 12 hour Event – ‘The Moss Run’, Sunday 16^th December.

I had planned to take part in this event last year, but illness prevented me. So this year I decided to train for the event for 12 months to make sure I put in a respectable performance.

A 12 hour event is obviously different to any other event – even an Ironman - so regular, sustained training was the order of the day (or the year to be slightly more accurate). You have to be determined to train in whatever weather – mild or bitter, anything, provided you keep your spirits up.

Normally, I would consult Master Nicholas Thomas (the running coach on Wednesday’s track session and a professional happily married man), but whilst he is excellent on Ironman training, I don’t think he is the man for a 12 hour event – maybe I should have consulted Dave Preece (remember him?) for his advice.

I slowly built up my stamina with regular training and all too quickly the day arrived. After a night with little sleep, I recalled Jonathon’s recommendation for a porridge with toast and honey breakfast. I thought that if it is good enough for him, I would give it a go, so porridge it was.

I packed my bike and headed up to the depths of Lancashire. The meet and T1 was at the Morris Dancers in Colne. The start time was 12noon and I arrived early to rack my bike and chat to some of the Nelson Wheelers members. We were all rather nervous and we wondered if Carl would be adding yet another trophy to his enormous collection.

After a seemingly endless time waiting around to start, 12 noon was almost on us. At 12noon exactly, we were off, Carl was first, with a fair bit of elbowing to get in the lead, closely followed by Steve, Pete and then myself, all close together. Carl banged on the bar counter and ordered a pint of bitter first and the rest of us had to wait behind him – a normal situation for most of us. Not being in Carl’s class, we settled for halves.

After 20 minutes, we set off to T2 – the Emmott Arms, where another half of bitter was downed. There were a total of 15, half juniors, undertaking this hazardous event. The course is 25 miles round a regular training ride, with stops at least 20 pubs.

After just over an hour from the start, we moved off to T3, the Bay Horse at Cowling. I had thought that I would be more stable after a 12 hour event on a mountain bike, but I forgot the effort needed to propel the heavy machine along the road. Most of the others were on road bikes and they set off like greyhounds between pubs – well, not exactly like greyhounds, because I don’t think greyhounds ride bikes. I suppose you could convert tribars for their front legs and paws, but then you would have to have adapters for the pedals and – oh dear, I really can’t be bothered finishing this sentence, so

Anyway, the point I was trying to make was that I was more of a donkey than a cyclist, but still made it to T4 at The Dog and Gun to the first feeding station. I had a choice – a gel, a Go bar or pie and chips – with a half of bitter. Dear Reader, I will let you work out my choice. By the way, don’t ask me where all these pubs were, as I have little idea – I had problems enough trying to understand what the locals were saying.

One of the members had taken a photo of a sign in a railway station. It was a warning as to the consequences of standing too close to the platform edge. The sign had been made many years ago when, perhaps, some words had not got a double meaning. As this is a family club, I won’t repeat what was on the sign, but it caused great amusement amongst the cyclists and became quite a catch phrase. This was evident when we were held up at a level crossing and a few of the cyclists (male, of course), thinking of the sign, stood as close to the barriers as they could and punched the air and shouted, YES! as the train went past.

Then on to T5 and T quite a few mores and quite a few more halves. One of the stops was the Railway in somewhere. This is an old fashioned dominoes pub. Charlotte had never played dominoes before so she had a try only to be told that it is a tradition to play strip dominoes. For some reason, she didn’t accept this tradition. Aren’t women disbelieving creatures? She managed to lose the first game and I am sure that my ears deceived me because I thought I heard, Pete, my future son-in-law, leading the shouts of ’Off, off, off’. Surely not.

Another feeding station, another choice. This time, I had to seriously consider, for a change, pie and chips. Come on, this is Lancashire, what do you expect?

We moved off to T(insert a number of your choice) to a pub which I thought maybe was called the Aardvark and Lychee, or maybe not. It could have been the Station. However, it was karaoke night. I suspect for the first time, the stage held 15 dripping cyclists singing (or shouting – I am not sure of the difference) ‘Do they know it’s Christmas’. Sir Bob would have been so proud. Then some of the juniors sang ‘The Summer of 69’ to such effect that it got Rebecca and Charlotte dancing. Dave wanted to sing the entire catalogue of Meatloaf songs, but as it would take 2 hours to complete, we persuaded him not to bother.

After having invaded the pub, we set out in the rain for the next one. By this time, it was dark. No, not dark, but DARK. As most of us live in cities, it is something we don’t experience very often. There were no streetlights for the next stretch and without car headlights, the only way to know where you were, was to cycle close to the white centre line and hope to pick it out – then veer off to the nearside when a car came. Not quite recommended in the Highway Code.

After a few more stops, we arrived at T20, the Hare and Hounds, Foulridge, about 11pm . Knowing we had completed the course, we could relax with a drink (but no pie and chips fortunately). Not really being accustomed to drinking halves, I finished the day off with couple of pints of bitter.

Amazingly, the juniors stayed to the bitter end - but I have to say that I was shocked by their behaviour. Not one of them took any illegal drugs, had a fight, stabbed or robbed anyone. Rebecca and Charlotte didn’t put on 20 kilos, get pregnant and demand a council house. Don’t these youngsters read the tabloids to learn how to behave?

There were no winners or losers, but special mention must be made of Carl. He apparently covered the course last year, drinking a pint in every pub and has the unusual combination of talents in that he can thrash most people at cycling AND drinking!

Five of us were virgins, completing it for the first time:-

It was a great day, 25 miles on the bike and about 30 minutes in about 20 pubs with a very friendly group of cyclists – The Moss Run. Thanks to Pete for inviting me.

Maybe MTC can put on a similar 12 hour event next year (after paying copyright fees to Nelson Wheelers, of course)?

Harry Davies