Confessions of a cake-hating heretic

[thirdcrank]

I've some wonderful memories of Clapham. I must have posted before that when we were newlyweds, without two ha'pence to rub together, the parents of a schoolfriend used to lend us a farmhouse on the road to Slaidburn. The village has benefited from the bypass: once upon a time, a quarry wagon or the like regularly crashed through the bridge in the centre of the village. OTOH, the connection with Leeds loiner Alan Bennett who has a cottage there must have attracted more attention to the place.

For the benefit of any visitors from North America or elsewhere, speaking as an atheist and dour Yorkshireman, whose dour exterior masks a heart of dourness, I'll offer the following advice:-

Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.
Hebrews 13:2

Take us as you find us.

[thirdcrank]

I'm waiting for the companion thread to this

"confessions of a cake-eating maniac" ...

Clapham on the A65 has been mentioned and here's a report of a maniac motorcyclist on the Clapham bypass although I don't know if he stopped for cake

Biker caught riding at 125mph in Yorkshire police pursuit
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-y ... e-44499948

He did get a taste of porridge: the judge remanded him in custody for a couple of days before deciding on a non-cuctodial sentence. And FWIW, traffic policing seems to be alive and well in North Yorkshire.

[Thornyone]

I have tried a few rides with friends but prefer to cycle alone for most of the reasons that the OP quoted. I keep fitter than I did when cycling with friends, because I don’t indulge in cake stops or pub lunches en route. And a definite advantage to lone cycling is being able to lift off the saddle to break wind without offending anyone And being able to say “moo” to a herd of cows without anyone giving me an odd look

[Cyril Haearn]

I have tried a few rides with friends but prefer to cycle alone for most of the reasons that the OP quoted. I keep fitter than I did when cycling with friends, because I don’t indulge in cake stops or pub lunches en route. And a definite advantage to lone cycling is being able to lift off the saddle to break wind without offending anyone And being able to say “moo” to a herd of cows without anyone giving me an odd look

And singing OSTTTOA of course

[Cugel]

I have tried a few rides with friends but prefer to cycle alone for most of the reasons that the OP quoted. I keep fitter than I did when cycling with friends, because I don’t indulge in cake stops or pub lunches en route. And a definite advantage to lone cycling is being able to lift off the saddle to break wind without offending anyone And being able to say “moo” to a herd of cows without anyone giving me an odd look

Whilst a pub visit during a cycle ride is definitely for those desiring unfitness, the cake-stop does actually make you fitter. "Fitter for what" you enquire? For the eating of more cake and also pies! These are essential skills in a modern cycling chap or even a chapess, as cakes & pies need selling otherwise no café at all and we might all die of bonk or have to eat that dead hedgehog halfway up Buttertubs.

Now, concerning these lift-offs from the saddle ....

First we must enquire as to the source of the uplifting jets. If there is no cake, what is consumed instead to generate the oomph? Hopefully we are not talking gels, bars or other litter-generating junkfud!? Is it the bean, each one a nodule of future-gas?

As to the rearward members of the club who might be presented with a saddle-lifter - well, they should be doing their turn on the front, eh? Mind, those I know seem oblivious to such blasts, except as a source of amusement should the lift be accompanied by an amusing noise, a la Le Petomane.

Snot rockets are also met with no more than a shrug of acceptance. No one will stop to pull out their lace hanky, after all.

Talking to the beasts of the field is quite normal where I live. It's known as "chatting up".

Cugel, in the Cold Dark North, where cyclists are rude and sheep are wary.

PS I admit to personally favouring the Jersey, especially over the Chillinham, as the latter are rather touchy and lack the big eyelashes.

[Thornyone]

Now, concerning these lift-offs from the saddle ....

First we must enquire as to the source of the uplifting jets. If there is no cake, what is consumed instead to generate the oomph? Hopefully we are not talking gels, bars or other litter-generating junkfud!? Is it the bean, each one a nodule of future-gas?

As to the rearward members of the club who might be presented with a saddle-lifter - well, they should be doing their turn on the front, eh? Mind, those I know seem oblivious to such blasts, except as a source of amusement should the lift be accompanied by an amusing noise, a la Le Petomane.

Snot rockets are also met with no more than a shrug of acceptance. No one will stop to pull out their lace hanky, after all.

My elderly great aunt used to say that all of my food must turn to wind (when I was in my teens). Though my diet has changed a good deal over the years, my internal chemistry has not.

I think that snot-rocketing is a bloke thing, and it is one of those bloke things, like two-finger whistles, which I seem to be genetically incapable of (not that I’ve tried the nasal trick, but I find it hard enough to use a lace hanky cleanly). Windiness, on the other hand, seems to be gender-neutral. In fact, I worked with a woman who was certainly my equal in that department.

[Mistik-ka]

Poetic agrarian wisdom from my farming youth:

"A farting horse will never tire;
A farting man's the one to hire."