Round 7 of the catchilly titled Shropshire and South Staffordshire Road Race League sallied forth this evening on the Eaton Constantine circuit near the ancient Roman remains of Wroxeter. It was the fourth largest Roman settlement in Britain you know? If I was Carlton Kirby I’d be able to give you a description of the specialist food and wine produced there. Lucky escape. Still, if I was Phil Liggett I’d be able to tell you Lance Armstrong, former 7 times victor ludorum of the Tour de Gaul, was innocent. An even luckier escape…
We were greeted by sunny, bright, rainy, cold, warm, windy and/or still (delete as appropriate) conditions in the only race of the season it’s impossible for a Stans/ Paramount rider to win. It’s their turn to marshal. Thank you gentlemen for an excellent job.
Our antiquitous HQ for the evening was Leighton Village Hall where the last plumbing work had indeed been completed by Plumber Plumberus in AD 204 who seemingly was the last person to find any useable toilet paper there.
Much frantic riding ensued with the wind helping a little up the hill but making for some interest fast riding down the old A5. The turning back towards Eaton Constantine saw me make a prize Ancient British tit of myself as I hit a cat-eye which straightened the bike up and sent me on towards Buildwas rather than left towards the village. Luckily, I stayed on and more importantly didn’t take anybody with me for an impromptu visit to the Abbey.
G1, 2 and 3 came together (I am told) with G3 going straight through. I can’t tell you who the victor ludorum was this evening (it’s not a secret or anything, I just don’t know) but the victrix ludorum was definitely our very own Pink Karen. Top stuff. A good finish for Steve Elcocks too.
At the last but one corner, G4/5 was 3 mins 20 seconds behind the front group, way too much to close down over that distance, so they smashed it to pieces – I was one of the early pieces. So, I blew on the last lap past the Roman remains (have I mentioned the Roman remains?) and hooked up with Steve and Pink Karen to finish the race off.
I overheard a couple of the riders from G4/5 having a little moan about people not pulling their weight – I don’t think it was directed at me but it wouldn’t have been unfair if it was. One rider mentioned that if you couldn’t manage 30 seconds at the front then maybe you should take up golf. Four!
Anyway, back to the villa to get somebody to peel me some grapes as I drift off to the sound a distance lute played by a dusky maiden… right up until the bloody cramp sets in.
A thoroughly enjoyable evening, good racing and for me a least, a proper good kicking…
Charlton next week and Wrekinsport’s turn to marshal.