Twenty impressive looking athletes congregated in the Square this morning for the weekly Square Wheels club cycle. They were joined by the likes of The Sandbagger, The Tone and The Master Carpenter. For a split second we were joined as well by the Farmer but he was sitting comfortably in his warm car and tooted his horn as he drove by with a smile on his face. The litter picker was working hard in the Square lifting the carry out bags and stiletto shoes in an attempt to tidy the place up for the well toned cyclists.
It was a morning of comebacks. Sam’s Yer Man joined us for the first time since his accident a couple of months ago up Rehaghy and was keen to revisit the scene of his mishap. The Legal Drug Salesman was there too. He was still complaining about his tight hamstring and about the fact that he was on his winter bike and knew it would be a bit harder to pedal around. The Banana Socks Man was there too, minus his socks, having been absent due to a tight hamstring as well for a few months. “My banana socks are only for the summer and it’s too wet for them these days.” The Touring Department were there as well minus their capes. Their ride today was to be a mystery tour for some of them as the organiser hadn’t told them yet where they were meant to be going but it was sure to be fun nonetheless.
The Chairman was last to arrive and following a blast from the Younger Schleck’s hairdryer, he promised not to be late again. He began complaining how Sunday mornings are supposed to be relaxing and how he is more stressed out on a Sunday morning than he is during the week when he is doing the house work.
Without further adoo, The 2 Schlecks led the group out of the Square towards the Gorestown Road. Sir Alex was shouting out the puddles left, right and centre and then gave up because he was getting too tired. The Colnago Man was at the front too reminiscing about his times around The Moy in and out of pubs, eating houses and places of worship.
Before long we were across Stilago and on towards Rehaghy. SYM got a bit emotional as he passed the spot where he kissed the tarmac a while ago. The hole in the surface could still be seen. The Rushmere Man was taking his time making sure he was nowhere near SYM, while Fred Astaire was cycling like a cock pheasant with one arm down by his side and his white shoes shining. The silence was soon broken when The MC suffered a blow out. The bang was that loud it near blew The Duff off his bike while PeeGee and The Roller Monster had to stop to change their underwear. It was a premature end for The MC who is putting in some serious training for the Grand Fondu.
The Continental Man led the peloton up the rest of Rehaghy. He was soon overtaken by The Barbarian who was giving the racing a rest for a while. The Barbarian’s knuckles got a scrape on the ground when the Older Schleck’s back light fell off and he tried to catch it before it hit the tarmac.
In Aughnacloy we all regrouped and headed on to Augher. Those wanting a shorter spin headed back from Augher via Ballygawley to attend the Older Schleck’s birthday party while the Magnificient Seven headed for the hills, up through the sweet smelling trees and into Fintona for the coffee stop.
There were sausage sodas for The Legal Seller and P McGarry as The Sandbagger calls him and a special soda for the Sandbagger himself who left no eggs or bacon for anyone else. The shop assistant was out with the mop as the floor flooded from the drops of rain off the Tone’s shorts and The Duff’s helmet. A member of the Clanabogan Sit and Spin Club took a photo of us all before we set sail in the downpour for Seskinore, Beragh and Pomeroy. While we regrouped in Pomeroy the Sandbagger flew past with a smug smile on his face and that was the last we saw of him until we arrived back under the tree. The rest of us glided to Donaghmore and through Dungannon timing the green lights to perfection and giving PeeGee time to refit his chain. It wasn’t long till we were back under the shelter of the tree again having covered 67 miles at a pace to suit all.
Before long we were across Stilago and on towards Rehaghy. SYM got a bit emotional as he passed the spot where he kissed the tarmac a while ago. The hole in the surface could still be seen. The Rushmere Man was taking his time making sure he was nowhere near SYM, while Fred Astaire was cycling like a cock pheasant with one arm down by his side and his white shoes shining. The silence was soon broken when The MC suffered a blow out. The bang was that loud it near blew The Duff off his bike while PeeGee and The Roller Monster had to stop to change their underwear. It was a premature end for The MC who is putting in some serious training for the Grand Fondu.
The Continental Man led the peloton up the rest of Rehaghy. He was soon overtaken by The Barbarian who was giving the racing a rest for a while. The Barbarian’s knuckles got a scrape on the ground when the Older Schleck’s back light fell off and he tried to catch it before it hit the tarmac.
In Aughnacloy we all regrouped and headed on to Augher. Those wanting a shorter spin headed back from Augher via Ballygawley to attend the Older Schleck’s birthday party while the Magnificient Seven headed for the hills, up through the sweet smelling trees and into Fintona for the coffee stop.
There were sausage sodas for The Legal Seller and P McGarry as The Sandbagger calls him and a special soda for the Sandbagger himself who left no eggs or bacon for anyone else. The shop assistant was out with the mop as the floor flooded from the drops of rain off the Tone’s shorts and The Duff’s helmet. A member of the Clanabogan Sit and Spin Club took a photo of us all before we set sail in the downpour for Seskinore, Beragh and Pomeroy. While we regrouped in Pomeroy the Sandbagger flew past with a smug smile on his face and that was the last we saw of him until we arrived back under the tree. The rest of us glided to Donaghmore and through Dungannon timing the green lights to perfection and giving PeeGee time to refit his chain. It wasn’t long till we were back under the shelter of the tree again having covered 67 miles at a pace to suit all.