Holme Moss

I thought I should accompany No.1 son to Manchester Airport. It seemed a bit harsh to just wave goodbye at the station in Ilkley! So, we got up early and arrived in very good time (for once) at the airport, all of two and a half hours before his flight departure. I'd brought my bike so I locked it up at the station with the idea of getting my boy checked-in quickly so I could cycle back home. I reckoned on a bit less than four hours so I should get home at lunchtime to still give me time to get a day's work in.

Well, things didn't quite go to plan! They never do, do they? First, there was an enormous queue at check-in and it was moving very, very slowly. I started observing people as they got to the desk. Lots of smiles and good humour, but the process simply took a long time. How hard can it be to allocate a seat and check the bags? We eventually reached the desk and I was still optimistic that it would be straightforward for us. It wasn't. For some reason there was a check against my lad's name, which meant that he couldn't be booked in. A phone call was required to the ticket desk. Engaged. Still engaged. Finally get through. The lovely woman at check-in reports a lot of tapping going on. More tapping at the keyboard. And more. The check-in woman quips that an essay is being written. We get the feeling she is used to being in this situation! Eventually the check is cleared and she books him on the flight to Atlanta. She comes to book his bags through to Lima and another problem arises. Something to do with a mismatch of names on the two flights. It seems that amidst all that essay writing someone misspelt his name. The whole process had to be repeated! Finally, the names for the two flights matching, the bags could finally be booked through. Except that the printer had now run out of paper! Almost two hours had passed in total and my lad's flight was now boarding! A hurried hug goodbye and I can only assume, as I write this, that he made his flight. I guess his adventure started a little earlier than expected.

But my day's adventure still had some panning out to do. I went to retrieve my bike, only to find an additional lock had been placed around it. The lock I had used was a rather token combination thing, but this was an altogether more serious affair with heavy chain and a huge padlock. What now? It transpired that my bike had been deemed a major security risk, the tubing apparently a possible hiding place for semtex - although how securing it so enthusiastically was going to help I cannot fathom a guess. Some joker told me that it could be released on payment of a £10 fine, but not for 24 hours! And I fell for that one - hook, line and sinker! The 'man with the key' was elusive for some time, before he eventually turned up with a smile on his face. I actually found it hard to begrudge them having some fun at my expense.

So, well over two hours later than expected, I started my ride home. I'd planned a route on the map on the way over, using some minor roads to get me across towards Hayfield, then mainly A roads after that because there wasn't the time to take any detours - although I did make one such excursion by mistake, missing a turn and not realising until I'd gone 3 miles out of my way. I really have to cure this stubborn resistance against looking at the map. That proved to be my only error though and I didn't need to look at the map again. From Hayfield it was over the hill to Glossop and then the B road to Woodhead, surprisingly quiet and very beautiful. The day had started overcast, but was clearing all the time, with the sun coming through more and more often now. Just a very short distance on the busy A628 to turn up towards Holme Moss. I'd been long looking forward to this big climb, up to 534m at the TV Mast, having known about it for years but never ridden it. I guess it's a sign of my fitness that I seemed to get to the top very quickly, steep at first but then just a long steady, continental style climb to the summit, very wild, with little traffic on the road.

From there it was back into more familiar territory for me, down into Holmfirth and Huddersfield, then the drag up and over to Brighouse and up and over again into Bradford, before the final climb on the moor road through Baildon to descend into Ilkley from the Cow and Calf. Although far from warm, even in the sun, it was now a really lovely day, cotton wool clouds peppering the deep blue sky. Even Bradford looked pretty! And, I have to say, that after seeing lots of wonderful scenery today, the very best view of all was that from the Cow and Calf down onto Ilkley and up the Wharfedale Valley. It looked at its superb best today.

This ride was a bit of a tester for me really. I wasn't entirely sure how the sore calf was going to respond, and, with many railway crossings, this route gave me lots of 'get out of jail' options in case of a disaster. Fortunately, they weren't needed, but the calf never felt right, and was quite achy on the climbs. I didn't push it too hard for that reason, and tended to stay in the saddle a lot more than usual. It doesn't feel too bad right now, but I guess I won't know for sure until tomorrow when I plan to join the Earlybirds. At least I found the space that I was craving.