Once upon a Monday morning, 5 two-wheeled members of the Richmondshire chattering classes went to Benidorm.

However, instead of gambling in the casino, we took punts on other things:
1. Playing Russian Roulette for the first 30 minutes on the dual carriageway West of town - which prompted Mike to utter: "I would rather stand in the middle of the dual carriageway facing the traffic whilst wearing a sandwich board declaring "The end is nigh, because at least you would see it coming."
2. Richard gambled on Dave's promise that today's ride would be only 50 miles, so he did not carry any fuel - despite "mainly downhill" Dave's track record the day before, when he promised no more hills!
3. Andrew gambled that his factor 30 sun-cream would protect the pixie-dust rouge tumour on the end of his pork-crackling sun-baked nose.
4. I took a chance that I could climb the Twin-Peaks of Sporting Excellence despite averaging less than 50 miles per week after the snow melted back home
5. Collectively, the Richmond high-altitude dining club chanced the restaurant, El Pimento, being open on a Monday and having a free table for 5 pathetically dehydrated medium-rare sun-baked bodies.
Suffice to say, the gourmet meal was worth the effort. Swaledale bunnies beware: Richard and Mike have the taste for rabbit stew and chips - "Conejo" after The Richmond 5Dalesw00, perhaps?
The highlight of the day was the stunningly impressive descent to Albir, carving round bear-hugging hairpins, heading to the sea and sea-level 25 miles away. Mark U.