The Viper Run

Posted: November 20, 2015 in Cycling, Tricycle
Tags: , , ,


It’s been a year since my first tentative turning of the peddles on a Trike so it seemed fitting to return to the scene of the crime for the food and cake fest that is the Viper Run. This time I would be having one last ride on the Beast before he is returned to his rightful owner.

The weather was not promising and unsurprisingly Mark and I arrived to find a debate going on in the tea rooms. It was late enough that discussion had turned from the choice of tea cake to the choice of route. As I dived into a pot of tea and devoured a tea cake decisions were made. We were going to go the not quite so long way. This wasn’t the short way as the rain had stopped but it wasn’t the very short way either as that was reserved for the way back. None of these deliberations meant much to me as I was a foreigner in the strange lands north of the river.

People started to prepare, a process that involves the ritual of the raincoat. It was here I noticed a definite segregation, Orange and non orange. The orange people massed around the assembled machines whilst the non orange milled about on the fringes. The feeling of needing to be going passed over us and, like swallows on a telegraph wire, we all knew it was time to get moving. We headed out following the man on the Moulton.


Three wheeled hooligans chasing a man on a Moulton

I vaguely remembered some of the roads from last year but really had no idea where I was. I was actually more fascinated by the white Trike with the wide axle. White! White on a miserable day. White being splattered by road dirt and grime. White becoming speckled. I was glad that I would not be cleaning it. My knowledge of trikes is limited but the wideness of the axle was fascinating, it was wider than any of the others around. I should have asked but I never got round to it.

The group got split at a road junction, the Oranges ended up over there whilst the non Oranges made it across, was this the start of the non Orange uprising against the Orange oppressors, the dedicated milling around waiting for the others to get across said not.

The pace up to now had ranged from sedate to leisurely; Somehow I’d managed to get in front so I made my way along at what I thought was a similar pace. I do a lot of riding on my own so judging this is a little hit or miss. After a while I looked behind to find that there was no one there. Time to stop and take photos of the approaching pack of three wheeled hooligans!


So much choice, so little time

The entire point of the Viper run is to visit the Viper, a charming country pub; to pretend otherwise would just be rude. We gave the list of beers a critical review before navigating the menu and settling down at a table. Outside the weather moved from damp to wet which justified to decision to make the route shorter. Beer was drunk, some of it from trophy tankards, food was eaten and tales were exchanged before we had to reluctantly accept that we really should get back on the Trikes. We had to get back to the tea rooms for the next course.

Mark and Jane

This is what you do with a trophy, fill it with beer and celebrate

One year of tricycling marked by a ride that spent more time in Pubs and Cafes than on the road, it seemed suitable somehow


Another piece of cake? Oh, why not?

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