NY200 - The legs don't work..

I'm sad to report that the North Yorkshire 200 cycle ride is dead.  It's a fact that it is a hard ride and I think I've broken London Alan.  Here is a text copy of our conversation earlier yesterday on arrival at the Scabby camp site, inspired by Monty Python’s dead Parrot sketch...

London Alan:  I wish to complain about a bike ride what I started not half a week ago from your very boutique.  

Fat Bloke:  Oh yes, the North Yorkshire 200, uh, with the Norwegian Blue legs... What's, uh... What's wrong with 'em?

London Alan: I'll tell you what's wrong with 'em, my lad. They're dead, that's what's wrong with 'em!

Fat Bloke: No, no, uh,...they're resting.

London Alan: Look, matey, I know a dead pair of legs when I see 'em, and I'm looking at 'em right now.

Fat Bloke: No no they're not dead, they're restin'! Remarkable legs the Norwegian Blue aren't they, ay? Beautiful countryside innit!

London Alan: The countryside don't enter into it. They're stone dead.

Fat Bloke: Nononono, no, no! They're resting!

London Alan: All right then, if they're restin', I'll wake 'em up! (shouting at his cycling shorts) 'Ello, Mister leggy leggies! I've got a lovely fresh water bottle for you if you show...

(Fat Bloke slaps his arse)

 

Fat Bloke: There, they moved!

London Alan: No, they didn't, that was you slapping my arse!

Fat Bloke: I never!

London Alan: Yes, you did!

Fat Bloke: I never, never did anything...

London Alan: (yelling and hitting his shorts repeatedly) 'ELLO LEGGY! Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o'clock alarm call!

(He takes a leg out of his shorts and dumps it on the grass. Then throws it up in the air and watches it plummet to the ground.)

 
London Alan: Now that's what I call a dead leg.

Fat Bloke: No, no... No, 'em's stunned!

London Alan: STUNNED?!?

Fat Bloke: Yeah! You stunned 'em, just as we were startin! Norwegian Blue legs stun easily...

London Alan: Um... now look... now look, mate.  I've definitely 'ad enough of this. The legs are definitely deceased, and when I started not 'alf a week ago, you assured me that their total lack of movement was due to 'em bein' tired and shagged out following a prolonged car journey up North.

Fat Bloke: Well, they're... they're, ah... probably pining for the fjords.

London Alan: PININ' for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?  Look, why did they fall flat on the floor the moment we got here?

Fat Bloke: Norwegian Blue legs prefer being kept on their bikes! Remarkable leg, id'nit, squire? Lovely countryside!

London Alan: Look, I took the liberty of examining my legs when we got here, and I discovered the only reason that they had been sitting on the bike in the first place was that they had been NAILED there.

(pause)

 

Fat Bloke: Well, o'course they were nailed there! If I hadn't nailed them legs down, they would have jumped up onto those pedals, pushed 'em hard, and VOOM! Feeweeweewee! Gone!

London Alan: "VOOM"?!? Mate, these legs wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts through 'em! 'They're bleedin' demised!

Fat Bloke: No no! 'em's pining...

London Alan: 'Em's not pinin'! 'Em's passed on! These legs are no more! They have ceased to be! They've expired and gone to meet their maker!  They're a stiff!  Bereft of life.  They'd rest in peace if you hadn't nailed 'em to the bike.  They'd be pushing up the daisies!  Their metabolic processes are now 'istory!  They're off the bike!  They've kicked the bucket, they've shuffled off their mortal coils, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible! THESE ARE EX-LEGS!

(pause)

 
Fat Bloke: Well, I'd better replace 'em, then. (I take a quick peek behind the tent) Sorry London Alan, I've had a look 'round the back of the tent, and uh, we're right out of fresh legs.

London Alan: I see. I see, I get the picture.

Fat Bloke: I got a slug.

(pause)

 
London Alan: Pray, does it ride a bike?

Fat Bloke: Nnnnot really.

London Alan: WELL IT'S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!?!?

Fat Bloke: N-no, I guess not. (gets ashamed, looks at his feet)

London Alan: Well....

(pause)

 
Fat Bloke: (quietly) D'you... d'you want to go back to my place?

London Alan: (looks around) Yeah, all right, sure.

.....

And so we've ended up back in York.  150 miles ridden.  It's sad that a painful back strain issue and also the risk of thunderstorms later this week meant that a ride across the top of the North York Moors would have been a pretty bad idea.  A day off today has helped with London Alan's back and leg recovery for sure.  So tomorrow we're gonna do another 50 miles.  A loop around York so London Alan can go home and proclaim that he DID do 200 miles in North Yorkshire!  

Then purchase a new pair of legs... 

 

...and a Parrot!

 

Time for a song!  

All together now this time with the tune from the Verve's...  "The Drugs Don't Work"

This is of course the song with the right lyrics. Play this whilst singing along with my version of the lyrics below.  Enjoy!

All this talk of getting old
It's getting me down my love
Like a cat in a bag, waiting to drown
Next time I'm walking to town

And I hope you're thinking of me
As I lay down post the ride
Now the legs don't work
The bike just made ‘em worse
And I'll moan in my blog again

Now the legs don't work
The bike just made ‘em worse
And I'll moan in my blog again
 

I know I'm on a losing streak
'Cause I cycled down my old street
And if you wanna go, then just let me know
And I'll moan in my blog again

Now the legs don't work
The bike just made ‘em worse
And I'll moan in my blog again

'Cause baby, ooh, if heaven calls, I'm on the loo..
Just like you said, if I ride a bike, I'd be better off dead

All this talk of getting old
It's getting me down my love
Like a cat in a bag, waiting to drown
Next time I'm walking to town

Now the legs don't work
The bike just made ‘em worse
And I'll moan in my blog again

'Cause baby, ooh, if heaven calls, I'm on the loo...
Just like you said, if I ride a bike, I'd be better off dead

And if you wanna go, just let me know
And I'll moan in my blog again

Now the legs don't work
The bike just made ‘em worse
And I'll moan in my blog again

Yeah, you know the seat hurts my bum again
Yeah, you know the seat hurt my bum again
Yeah, you know the seat hurts my bum again, oh Lord!
Yeah, you know the seat hurts my bum again, oh Lord!

I'm never riding down, I'm never riding down
No more, no more, no more, no more, no more
I'm never riding down, I'm never riding down
No more, no more, no more, no more, no more...
[Repeat and Fade Out]

Fade out - yep, been there and done that too.

Ciao for now..