One Saturday social two groups.
- Giant Fanboy.
- Jul 5
- 4 min read
The Day the Dolly Makers Laughed (and Our Legs Cried)
Gather 'round, fellow masochists of the tarmac, and let me spin you a yarn about a truly "challenging" 38-mile road bike ride that unfolded today. A ride so epic, so fraught with peril (mostly self-inflicted), that it deserves its own place in the annals of cycling folklore. Or at least, a mildly amusing essay.
Our intrepid quartet consisted of myself, the ever-present Brian (a man whose enthusiasm often outpaces his fuel tank), the limpet-like Lucy (who clearly possesses some form of bionic wheel-clinging ability), and the equally intrepid Olivia. The mission, should we choose to accept it, was 38 miles of undulations that would make a rollercoaster blush.
The early pace was, shall we say, spirited. Brian, bless his cotton socks, decided to channel his inner Tour de France champion for the first 12 miles. He attacked with the ferocity of a gazelle… a gazelle, perhaps, that hadn't quite factored in the uphill bits. Lucy, meanwhile, performed a masterclass in drafting, practically becoming one with Brian's rear wheel. I'm fairly certain she could have ridden the entire 12 miles with her eyes closed, guided solely by the hum of Brian's rapidly depleting energy reserves.
As predicted by anyone who’s ever ridden with Brian, around the 12-mile mark, his internal combustion engine sputtered. The "gas" ran out, replaced by a slightly pained wheeze. This was our cue, Olivia's and mine, to seize the initiative. Like two majestic (and slightly less impulsive) steeds, we took the reins from mile 13 to 22, setting a more sustainable, yet still undeniably challenging, tempo.
Just as we were beginning to feel a smug sense of accomplishment, a miracle occurred. Or perhaps, just a well-timed sugar gel. Brian, like a phoenix rising from the ashes (or perhaps just the bottom of his energy bar wrapper), suddenly found a second wind. And what did he do with this newfound vigor? Did he offer a steady pull? Did he provide moral support? Of course not! He made a mad dash for the cafe, leaving us in his dust, presumably with visions of flat whites dancing in his head.
Alas, our caffeine-fueled dreams were shattered upon arrival. Another group of cyclists had beaten us to the coveted coffee and cake. We strongly suspect foul play, specifically a "wee shortcut" that bypassed the scenic (read: soul-destroying) climbs we had just conquered. Cheaters! (Or perhaps just smarter cyclists.)
The ride back to HQ was a more leisurely affair, though still punctuated by the occasional grunt and groan. We even took in a local climb called Hobs Hole Lane, which, despite its quaint name, felt less like a lane and more like a vertical wall. But the true pièce de résistance, the climb that etched itself into our very souls, was the infamous Dolly Makers Hill. Let me tell you, those Dolly Makers clearly had a wicked sense of humor when they named that particular incline. I’m fairly certain I heard the sound of my hamstrings weeping.
So, a massive well done to the brave souls who ventured out today. We conquered hills, we witnessed Brian's spectacular flame-out and subsequent resurrection, and we debated the ethics of cafe-bound shortcuts. And through it all, we proved that even when our legs are screaming, our lungs are burning, and we’re fairly certain we’ll never walk again, there’s always room for a good laugh (and maybe a very large slice of cake).
What's your most memorable "hilly and challenging" cycling adventure?

A Saturday Morning Well-Spent: The Mystery Tour (and the Sausage & Egg Sanctuary)
Another glorious Saturday, another morning spent proving that the best way to kick off the weekend involves two wheels, good company, and a healthy dose of fresh air. This particular spin out was with the legendary "Saturday crew," a group whose camaraderie is as strong as their collective leg muscles (mostly). Today's adventure was dubbed "Woz's Mystery Tour 2.0," a title that always promises a bit of the unexpected, and never disappoints on the "gently rolling terrain" front.
True to the mystery, we bypassed some of our usual haunts, much to the silent relief of our quads. The formidable climb up to the Windmill and the infamous Dollymakers (a hill that still haunts my dreams from last time) were notably absent from today's itinerary. Instead, Woz, in his infinite wisdom, treated us to the lung-busting ascent up to Chorley – a climb that always delivers a satisfying burn. This was swiftly followed by the equally character-building rise through Goosemoor Green, proving that while some devils were avoided, new ones were readily embraced.
Once the initial undulations were conquered, the ride settled into a wonderfully steady rhythm. We pedaled through the picturesque landscapes leading to Lichfield, its historic spires a welcome sight on the horizon. From there, it was a smooth, companionable stretch to Whittington, each turn of the pedal bringing us closer to our ultimate goal: Prego.
Ah, Prego. Not just a cafe, but a sanctuary. A place where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the promise of carbohydrates. And today, Prego delivered in spades. The sausage and egg sandwich was, in a word, fantastic. A perfect symphony of savory goodness, it was the kind of fuel that not only replenishes weary muscles but also nourishes the soul. Conversations flowed as freely as the coffee, punctuated by the clinking of cutlery and the satisfied sighs of well-fed cyclists.
Recharged and refueled, the ride back home from Prego was a short, sweet denouement to our morning's adventure. The miles melted away, buoyed by good food, great company, and the lingering satisfaction of a challenge met.
What a truly fantastic way to spend a Saturday morning. There's something uniquely invigorating about being out with friends, enjoying the fresh air, pushing your limits just enough, and then rewarding yourself with something utterly delicious. It's more than just a bike ride; it’s a reset button for the soul, a reminder of the simple joys that make life, and Saturdays, so good.
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