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Last Christmas after a breezy ride on the East Yorkshire Wolds, my oldest and most recently retired pal Mark told me he planned to head to the Alps in the summer to do a bit of bucket list ticking. Fancy it? he asked. Of course, brilliant, put me down for that. After a couple more pints we went our separate ways back into the real world. Two weeks later came the text, right, found some accommodation, flights and bike hire, first week of September good for you? At this point I thought it prudent to ask my long suffering wife,...