Wednesday Chain Gang - Four Riders and Frank

I did not want to go out on the bike last night; the thought of strong winds and heavy rain was pushing me towards the sofa and a hot meal. But, somehow, I found myself pedalling through spots of rain in a gusty south-south westerly wind, towards Galley Hill. Three days off the bike is long enough, thank you, and I was keen to burn out some of the 'Christmas sludge' clogging my body; the thick sugar and fat soup that makes me heavy and dull at this time of year.

I rode past the rendezvous and saw just one rider - the illustrious Barney Willard arriving and hopping into the shelter to dodge the wind. By the time I came back from a quick and scary trip to the top of the hill, Barney had been joined by Jaime (WIng It on Strava). So, three riders daft enough to brave Storm Frank, or so I thought. It seems Shirley had already set out for Pevensey in her customary shorts and shiny silver helmet. Jaime set off in her wake, before Barney and I set about catching them up.

I think we have ridden in stronger winds this winter, but not in wind as gusty and sideways as we had last night. It didn't seem to matter which direction we were riding in, the wind was still in our face or driving across us, yanking our front wheel to the left or right, just as we had settled into the wind from another direction. This made for a tense ride as we pushed along Cooden Drive and onto the 'Hell of Herbrand'. The wind played vicious games with us, occasionally dropping off and allowing the pace to pick up, only to then slam into us again, pushing us at crazy angles as we tried to keep heading forward.

Barney's lighter weight meant he got blown around more than me, but his superior power allowed him to make more headway. We parted ways on Herbrand as the wind buffeted and bashed us, roaring in our ears. The rider from then on was about finding shelter where I could and making progress when at all possible. On some stretches, it was about survival rather than speed - 'just-keep-pedalling-Neil-it-has-to-end-eventually...'.

Shirley, Barney and I waited for Jaime at Pevensey, discussing the weather and the many merits of Castelli clothing. The wind was picking up and we did not have the compensation of a steady tailwind to help us back, although it was generally more with us than against us. Jaime arrived and declared he would return to Bexhill, before riding again across the marshes to his home in Eastbourne. This gave me the excuse I needed to do a double-dose of the chain gang, although a significant part of me was screaming 'stupid boy, go home!' I blocked out the voice of reason and sense, telling Jaime I would make the return with him. The looks from Shirley and Barney said it all.

We rolled off for the return leg and, quickly enough, Barney and I pulled away. Barney kindly rode within himself, and whilst we were separated again on Herbrand, we linked up from the turn and rode together along Cooden Drive. The wind was occasionally helpful on this stretch, but more often it blew across us. Rain began to fall, just as I thought we had escaped it. We pulled in at the lights and waited for Shirley and Jaime, as the rain grew steadily heavier and the air grew colder. I was so, so tempted to turn for home, but the desire to ride a decent distance is stronger than anything common-sense might dictate. I have the figure of 50 km fixed in my mind as the midweek distance, so that is what I must cycle, no matter what. It's all about the numbers and I guess it's a bit OCD. As neuroses go, it's harmless enough.

Jaime and I headed westwards into increasing rain and wind; what was I doing? The rain was cold and hard, the wind was merciless, but we ground our way along Cooden and Herbrand, gaining some relief as we crossed the railway line and headed towards The Star Inn. The rain blew into my face like bee stings, lit like diamonds in the bright beam of my light. A car was stuck behind us, reluctant to overtake as we wobbled erratically in the blustery gale. This was a ride to be endured, an acquired taste rather than a mainstream flavour, a ride that feels good once it stops and you're at home in warm, dry clothes.

The rain made its way through my gloves and into the tops of my overshoes, growing icy roots over my skin. If I gripped the bars tightly, my palms warmed up, but my fingers got colder. The windward side of my body became chilled as the rain soaked through my tights, arm warmers and top. My feet grew heavier as my shoes soaked up the rain; my shins were soaked despite the mudguards that kept the worst of the puddle water off me. The one saving grace was that it could easily have been colder. I reckon the air temperature was about 8 degrees - bearable if you are working hard and not for too long - but I was certainly glad when we reached Pevensey.

Jaime and I agreed that the ride was none too pleasant. We had now only to make the final leg of our epic chain gang ride. I turned and span hard for home, determined to get back as soon as I could, get dry and warm, avoid a chill. Riding alone in the dark of the marshes, the only comfort and reassurance is the light from my lamps. I always want to get back to that symbol of civilisation, the street lamp. I feel then that punctures or other problems will be nowhere near as serious as if they occurred on the marsh, where the dark and the wet cold might swallow me, or pull me into a bottomless ditch...

That was the last chain gang of 2015 and my last ride of the year. In all, I have ridden 8,700 km, or 5,400 miles - more than last year, but at a lower average speed I think, whatever that proves. Whatever your goals (and perhaps you have none), I hope you achieve them in 2016. Mine are to lose more fat and put on some more muscle; if that makes me faster on the bike, all well and good, but my overall aim is to enjoy cycling - whether alone or in company - and encourage others to do the same.

Happy New Year and safe riding, Neil