Words & Photos by Butty (slight edit by Pete)
Crew: Butty.
Pub: Kersh & Dunkey.
Rescue service: TJ
Route: Poynton Coppice, Lyme West park gate then East park gate, Bowstones, Dale Top, Chapel Descent, Road to Windmill.
Conditions: Thunderstorms!
Notes :
Very little social media activity during the day hinted at a lack of crew.
Sure enough, as the storm clouds swelled the excuses flooded in, broken toes (poor Alex) to butt trauma and some hoping they would not be noticed holding silence.
So tonight was going to be a crew of one, the Poynton Massive holding up the TNR flag; Butty (Billy) no mates, i.e. me!
My start was delayed due to biblical levels of rain finally subsiding allowing a short ride from around 7.15pm.
The ride was to be token, a very familiar route via The Bowstones. Bumped into the Nancy Boys at top of West park cobles and managed a quick “eh up” before we went in separate directions.
The real goal was the Windmill as I was after quality grub. Arriving around 8:40pm they happily they took my fish supper (+pint) order.
After a short while Kersh turns up with tails of foreign rides and comparisons of C2C routes and adventures. A little later Dunkey, who has unfortunately set out as the rain started again.
Conversations were rather sensible never straying into ribaldry zone, I remember more bike talk, nuclear power and politics (Kersh has won a VIP trip to Parliament on October 30th, isn’t that very close to a significant date?). Seems Dunkey might be innocent and we need to find the ribaldry catalyst elsewhere.
Kersh left first as Duncan and I enjoyed “just one more”. I also sneaked a little snifter before striking out on the ever reliable Middlewood route home.
Around half way home I thought there was a pile of garbage or similar across the track, but as I got closer I realised it was a body. Many thoughts running through my mind, “Oh sh1t!”, I rushed up to the pile. Calling out “alright mate” and shook the man who was lying straight horizontal across the path on top of a bag and spilled clothing. Thankfully he was alive but was not compos mentis, I had a feeling he was drunk!
What ensued for the next ten minutes was an argument; “leave me I’m fine”, “Look, I’m not fudging leaving you here, you might die!”, “I won’t die”, “You might if it rains again”, …., (you get the gist). Eventually I got him to his feet and found out he had “had a few too many” at the Windmill and was on his way to Poynton (what are the odds?).
“Come on fella, we will go together” as I picked up his bag and went on foot wheeling my bike. After around 200 yards it was apparent that “XXXXXX” has damaged his leg, shuffling along limping and making very slow progress. What the hell can I do… let’s not immediately use the authorities I’ll try phoning TJ. I was about to give up when Trevor answered, “Thank god”, a quick explanation and he agreed to a pickup back at bridge #10 of MWW!
Waiting around ten minutes I discover that XXXXXX is “an accountant”, has “been to Amsterdam, flown back, straight to the Windmill” and lives in higher Poynton. He’s lost his second phone, which I go looking for (to no avail). He’s obsessed with this second phone, so I ask; “do you have a mistress”, “no”, “are you a spy”, “no”, “drug dealer then?”, also “no”. As this is going on TJ van rescue services arrive! What a brilliant mate!
We figure out he lives near TJ so head back over Pott Shrigley road towards that way. Turns out he lives in one of those big new houses in the posh gated compound near Trevor’s house (perhaps he is a drug dealer after all). We drop him and I am surprised but pleased that he manages to input the keycode to open the electric gates. “See you XXXXXX, will you be okay?”, “Yeahpp, thank you so, sooo, sooo, so, muuuchhhie”.
Short hop to TJ’s house for a well-earned Brandy and debrief then I ride home. Somehow, I managed to dodge all of the rain all night (that’s what you get for good deeds, brings good karma and luck).