Emergency services attend carnage on Col du Cleish after Ironman disaster

The Posse Ecosse offered their bodies to medical science last night.Would the carbon fuelled ales of the world provide world beating performances? The answer is NO.

Today was grey in every way. Grey clouds, grey roads, grey rain, grey mist, grey mindset.

The climb up to Knockhill was pretty straight forward if uninspiring in the grey gloom and mist covered bogs. Even the grazing sheep looked depressed.

The Ironman had left his waterproof trousers at home and so he was in for a wet seat. His mudgards Christmas present remain in the wrapping so as not to get them dirty. This means anyone within a 12 foot distance of his rear tyre is going to look like a rarely spotted much speckled fluorescent coated beast.

As we joined the roadie climbing through the glen to Dunning, The Ironman had found a new friend who had not heard about his exploits in Ironman competitions. He regaled his tales of times in Austria and New Zealand and the passion and persistence with which he powered to the end. Originally Graham had probably been going all the way to Dunning however after enough regaling to last a life time, he felt the need to return to Stirling a by different route! (Just joking)

The run down to Dunning was perishingly cold.Bigman had limited visibility through grit speckled glasses. It is a fair summary to say, this was not a joyful experience. But we had set out to go to Perth and go to Perth we would. As we shot along the valley floor, the temperature dropped even lower. Thank goodness for the climb up to Perth. The Ironman was romping ahead. Bigman was busy telling himself 'this is fun, this IS fun, I AM enjoying this'. The truth is, he was not. Had it not been for the obligation to meet The Ironman, he would still have been tucked up in a warm bed and sound asleep.

The hot soup at The Mustard Seed Cafe across from Lidl was really really welcome. It was hot, it was tasty, and it was pea and ham.

If I said Bigman was enthusiastic about climbing onto the saddle and climbing up and over to Bridge of Earn then climbing up the long torturous hill to Glenfarg and then climbing up Col du Cleish in an ever deepening and dampening precipitation, I would be being economic with the truth. This was misery on wheels and that is a positive report on how it felt.

The Ironman has a range of gears on his Revolution MTB and he uses them all effectively. Earlier in the day he had 'spun' his way up the climb into Perth legs turning like the needle on a 45 rpm record player. At the foot of Cleish he upped the rate to a '78 rpm' however it had little effect as the bike did not move forward. 'No chain' he shouted a comment often shouted by Lance Armstrong when he wsa cruising effortlessly. But not today. The Ironman has over stressed the chain and now it lay collapsed on the road looking like a rattle snake that had lost its rattle!

The Posse had a choice - fix the chain or call the Wee Yin to rescue the posse. Fortunately The wee Yin was in residence and a rescue bid swung into action.

Bigman relaxed in a Radox bath for 45 minutes to restore some body heat. This was not a joyous day and one not to be repeated when dividends are paid out on the Cape Epic in 5 weeks time.