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This weekend is the annual York Cycle Rally, which Rob and I usually go to. Some years we camp up there for the weekend, but this year's been rather hectic so we chose to just go up for the day.
We set off fairly early to avoid as much of the traffic as we could (especially since this weekend also sees the Moto GP event at Castle Donington, which is not far from us at all).
We were merrilly tootling past one of the services when there was a loud THUMP. Pause. THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP! Rob said "Hard Shoulder!" with some urgency. I was already signalling and pulling over. We rolled to a halt without major incident and got out to survey the damage. Seems the tread on the front left tyre had got bored with proceedings and decided to go off by itself...Luckily the tread had just delaminated a bit and the tyre was still basically solid. Things could have been much worse if it had burst altogether.
We could conceivably have fixed it ourselves, but having never changed a wheel before, we unanimously decided that the side of the motorway in persistent drizzle was hardly the ideal place to learn and that this was what Rob had been paying those premiums to ETA for all these years. So Rob called them, having fun making himself heard over the traffic noise and we put the warning triangle out behind us and settled down (well away from the van just in case) to wait for the Repairing Man.
He arrived in due course, and was splendidly cheerful and nice, especially considering he'd had only two and half hours sleep before he was woken up to come out and rescue us! Wheel was swapped over and off we set again, a trifle nervously...So Monday's job is to hunt down and purchase a new spare tyre. But considering how much worse things could have been, we don't really mind too much.
As is traditional it was raining harder than ever when we got to York. We had a poke around the trade tents and then triked into the centre of York with our friend Tim for lunch. He took us to a tiny Italian place that made absolutely lovely pizza for under a fiver, which fortified us nicely for the ride back to the KNavesmire racecourse where the Rally lives.
Although it was horrid and wet, I managed to take some photos of some of the vintage bikes on display which are under the cut :-
Another toddle around and then back home again, thankfully without further incident....
The catering at the Rally seems to get worse every year though. This year Rob had a cup of tea with no taste whatever and I, who am temporarily eschewing caffeine on doctor's advice had only one option - flavoured water. What flavour? Why, pomegranate and blueberry of course. What else?
We set off fairly early to avoid as much of the traffic as we could (especially since this weekend also sees the Moto GP event at Castle Donington, which is not far from us at all).
We were merrilly tootling past one of the services when there was a loud THUMP. Pause. THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP! Rob said "Hard Shoulder!" with some urgency. I was already signalling and pulling over. We rolled to a halt without major incident and got out to survey the damage. Seems the tread on the front left tyre had got bored with proceedings and decided to go off by itself...Luckily the tread had just delaminated a bit and the tyre was still basically solid. Things could have been much worse if it had burst altogether.
We could conceivably have fixed it ourselves, but having never changed a wheel before, we unanimously decided that the side of the motorway in persistent drizzle was hardly the ideal place to learn and that this was what Rob had been paying those premiums to ETA for all these years. So Rob called them, having fun making himself heard over the traffic noise and we put the warning triangle out behind us and settled down (well away from the van just in case) to wait for the Repairing Man.
He arrived in due course, and was splendidly cheerful and nice, especially considering he'd had only two and half hours sleep before he was woken up to come out and rescue us! Wheel was swapped over and off we set again, a trifle nervously...So Monday's job is to hunt down and purchase a new spare tyre. But considering how much worse things could have been, we don't really mind too much.
As is traditional it was raining harder than ever when we got to York. We had a poke around the trade tents and then triked into the centre of York with our friend Tim for lunch. He took us to a tiny Italian place that made absolutely lovely pizza for under a fiver, which fortified us nicely for the ride back to the KNavesmire racecourse where the Rally lives.
Although it was horrid and wet, I managed to take some photos of some of the vintage bikes on display which are under the cut :-
( Daisy, Daisy... )
Another toddle around and then back home again, thankfully without further incident....
The catering at the Rally seems to get worse every year though. This year Rob had a cup of tea with no taste whatever and I, who am temporarily eschewing caffeine on doctor's advice had only one option - flavoured water. What flavour? Why, pomegranate and blueberry of course. What else?
relieved
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