Wednesday Chain Gang - Ice Cold in Bexhill

As far as I know, I was the only one worried about ice on Wednesday night, pestering Peter B for updates on the state of the marsh lanes and fretting about frosting roads, wondering if we should do the Cooden Crit loops instead. A temperature in my garden of nearly -3 degrees did nothing to reassure me, but the 14 or so riders who gathered for the ride had no doubts, politely ignoring my mother-hen concerns. Dress styles for the night varied from the minimal Castelli-based winter kit approach to wearing balaclavas and fur-trimmed helmets.

Out rolled the ultras - just four of the group willing to set out in the first group, the rest of us watching them ride to the bend before setting off in pursuit. I settled in with a small group that included Lord B in his new 'dazzle-paint' cycling longs, reminiscent of a WW1 battleship, but obviously a bit smaller. We began swapping-off along Bexhill front, never losing sight of the ultras ahead as all riders exercised some caution, especially on the corners. Ice or no ice, cold roads and tyres reduce grip levels. And it was cold.

It was a also a near-windless night, so an enjoyable pace was maintained on the straights. The drop into the tight left and right handers at Cooden was executed with care and precision, before pushing on along Herbrand Walk. The turn into the marshes at the level crossing brought a distinct drop in temperature. I wonder if the air nearer the beach is warmed slightly by the sea, or whether the marsh air is damper, but either way the chill was considerable. We positioned ourselves to avoid the edges of the road. I expected ice in the areas that are usually wet, but we saw none, apart from ice in the gutter on the west side of Spooky Hill.

Our small group kept up a good pace, with Dan S, Stewart B, Gareth and Simon G (and others) all putting in strong stints on the front. I made a bid for glory on the last straight before the roundabout, and thought I might pull away. Clearly, I went too early and first Stewart B and then Gareth both sped past. I don't have the sprint finish I used to have, as my recently revived but short-lived running efforts show (humbled by two teenage daughters, and this humiliation for a man who once ran 100m in 10.6s. Ok, it was a dodgy school stopwatch, but I was fast man!).

We waited rather longer than I wanted for the rest of the group to arrive, not wanting to cool down too much. The grass at the edge of the hedge was frosted over and the small puddles were white ice. It was definitely cold. The rest of the group dribbled in, but there was no sign of Keri. Gareth (his brother) said we should leave him, so we set off as one group for a chatty and careful ride back over the marshes. We were unsure whether there was ice on the the return side of the road at Spooky Hill, so there was no sense in cranking up the speed and finding out the hard way. Michael Maxwell and one other pulled off the front at this point, but the rest of use stayed with Stuart and Barney as far as Herbrand, before they put in a bit more effort to leave us.

I rode with Stewart, Simon G and another, with Stewart doing the lion's share of the work at the front. I tried to take a turn, but could not get past him. He gallantly told me to tag on, before pulling away on Cooden Drive, leaving Simon and me to make our way in. It wasn't our hardest effort, but it was certainly enough to warm us up. Darren (relatively new to H&StLCC) completed a good return effort, but sure looked cold. Thus ended the first lap of the chain gang route.

It was not a night for hanging about, so Steve 'Gadget' Ferguson and I escorted Peter B back to the nursing home. We knew matron would be more anxious than usual about him, especially as he was wearing only a matching silk camisole and knicker set. I know silk is supposed to be warm, but surely he needed stockings and lace gloves as well? Be that as it may, we wove our way steadily to the border with the Peoples' Republic of NB, handed him over the the guards (one of them winked and showed me a jar of goose fat) and completed our repeat of the chain gang route, for no other reason than we could ride, so we did. It was very cold.

It was especially cold near the final straight to the roundabout where, for no obvious reason, we felt the temperature drop by a few degrees. The extra chill quickly found its way through my gloves and longs, making the ride decidedly unpleasant. We quickly returned through the cold patch, longing for the comparative warmth of the east side of Spooky Hill, and then the near-tropical warmth of Herbrand Walk. It's amazing how sensitive you can be to small temperature changes in these conditions, and how grateful you can feel for it merely being freezing instead of sub-zero!

The moon was nearly full and it shone on the sea with its silvery light, the water looking like shiny blue-black oil. The wind had picked up from the east and the cold began to get to us; we both needed food and a warm-up. The cold wasn't doing much for my bladder either, but I made it home without mishap, stepping into a house that felt as hot as a July greenhouse after the chill of the outdoors.

Warmer and perhaps wetter weather next week. Ride safely, Neil