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

28 Dec- Xmas Social High And Over

A very good turnout today for our post Xmas social ride.

Queen of the Linkway!

Patrick had the honour of leading us down the newly opened link road where all of us gained some Strava top ten placings. Part the way down the road we spotted Shirley going the wrong way having set off too late for the meeting time. After a hasty 180 degree turn she joined the peleton and would end up being crowned Strava Queen of the LinkWay!

Where's 'The Man In The High Castle'?

With the weather very mild for the time of year we proceeded rapidly through Pevensey, Hailsham and onto Alfriston where we decided to have a coffee stop. On the corner there is an expensive but pleasant tea shop (Badgers). On many occasions I have sat in the garden during the summer mtb season but never expected we would be able to do the same in late December. Only the barelegged Shirley seemed to be feeling cold.

Derek, Malc C and Shirley left a few minutes before the rest of us to gain a head start up 'high and over' but we reeled them back in after around a third of the climb. The faster riders raced to the top with Nigel (caveman)  gaining honours for the top spot.

Tea stop at badgers.

The decent down towards Seaford seemed to be endless and with gravity on my side I made it down to the main road first.

We now had the undulating hills of the seven sisters to contend with . As usual on this road there is always some stroppy motorist that wants to get aggressive. This time it was Peter (Shadow) who would be at the blunt end for daring to overtake another cyclist on the climb.

That's where my helmet went!

Reassembling at Friston I was hoping for some exciting footage of us on the steep decent to East Dean but by now there was a great deal of slow traffic that we got stuck behind.

Fortunately the ride up to the top of Beachy was almost traffic free. Without a tail wind the climb was a lot more of a grind than on Boxing day but I really enjoyed it feeling unusually strong as did Derek who seems to have completely got over his sciatica. We arrived at the Beachy head hotel about halfway up the very spread-out field of riders. Malcolm C would arrive last as yet again his carbon road bike was out of action with mechanical problems, forcing him to ride his terrible Carrera which is about two sizes too small but still ways about 30lbs. This lead to myself and Patrick suggesting a ride name for Malc C as 'Mechanical' Malcolm!

Patrick again lead the charge from Beachy head down into Eastbourne and we all rode quickly to Pevensey bay where we made use of the impressively large toilets. The light was now fading , the temperature had dropped and there was a mild head wind against us. Somehow, despite cruising I dropped everyone else and endured a lonely bleak ride back into Hastings old town. There I bumped into the friendly face of Diego who is getting back to fitness after a nasty mtb accident in  the summer. Diego tells me that he should now be a regular on the weds and Friday night rides , I do hope so!

By now Patrick, Duncan and Mechanical Malcolm had all arrived at the pub for one enjoyable road of drinks.

Thanks to all who came out today and made it such an enjoyable day.

Steve C

26/12 Boxing day Improver's Ride- Beachy Loop

A solid turnout of seven riders arrived to burn up some Xmas calories on our Boxing day Improver's ride to follow a  good safe winter route plotted by JV. Much to my pleasant  surprise Chris Chapman was there. Chris emigrated to Portugal a couple of years ago but comes back to over winter in the UK so we don't get to see him that often

Ivan tuned up on a 29er hard tail with knobbly tyres. Only Ivan could ride one of these and still do much of the leading at the front.

Good to have both Derek and Ivan out on an Improver's Ride

Our first real climb was Netherfield hill.Chris is a bit out of condition since breaking his collar bone  , so Chris together with Derek got dropped on the climb. This gave me a few minutes to shed two layers in the unseasonally warm weather but by the time I had untangled my jersey everyone was long gone and some effort was needed to catch the group up.

The roads were reasonably dry (unlike those in the north of England) as we pressed on over easy undulating terrain past Rushlake green, Cowbeech and past Hellingly. Here we were joined by Pete Baker who had been navigating to our position by following Patrick's iphone with a tracker app (impressive use of techonology!).Chris left us about the same time, while the rest of us took a short trip along part of the cuckoo trail and into Polegate. Being too lazy to fit a new chain I was still riding one that was several links to short. This was fine as long as I remembered to avoid the big ring with anything more than a 25 tooth rear sprocket. Unfortunately for the third time this month I forgot this rule and the chain locked up but with Steve's help I managed to free it by dropping out the back wheel. Steve tells me having such a tight chain is wearing out my chainrings so I really must get this sorted out.

Regroup At Friston

The easy riding was over for a while. We now had the  undulating four mile climb up to Friston forest, and with the south westerly wind it was tougher than usual. The others decided to race each other to the end with Patrick claiming honours over Steve and Ivan . I arrived some time later with Derek some way behind me. While we were faffing around Derek came past us to get a hard start as our next climb would be Beachy itself.

The short sharp descent on the main road towards East Dean was thrilling on our road bikes as we all swooped past Ivan who was hampered by the drag on all that knobbly rubber.

Thrilling descent towards EastDean

The climb to the top of Beachy Head was kind to us today as the south westerly was at our backs and before long we were all back together again. I told everyone I wanted to lead the charge down the Beachy Head switchbacks that lead down into Eastbourne. My plan was was to get some exciting footage of riders coming past me on my nervous descent.This plan failed as my descending skills must have improved as only Patrick was able to get past me.

Riding through Eastbourne with the wind at our backs meant we were moving faster than the traffic. Myself and Zack are not as brave cutting through traffic as the others, so we soon lost sight of them and only caught up with them at Norman's Bay

Steve told me he was feeling knackered. He hadn't expected the Improver's ride to be so hard and was worried that he would be too knackered to do JV's harrow club ride in the morning. His body was running out of fuel and we lost him on Bexhill road, only finding out later that he had felt sick with the bonk and so pulled into the Esso garage to stuff down some sweets.

Unfortunately it was too late for Ivan to stop for beer in the old town but that didn't stop myself Patrick and Derek from quaffing three very enjoyable pints rather quickly in The Standard before heading home.

Thanks to all who came out on the ride, a great day out!
Steve C

Part Deux - Back in Blighty : 'Pre BBR Brighton Special - It's called 'man love''

 10:36 a.m - Top Of Ditchling Beacon

"Would someone please help him onto his bike!", said Simon G

I must admit I looked pretty pathetic; I'd just about made it up Ditchling and was feeling sick and knackered and had been sprawled on the grass on my back trying to take in sufficient oxygen to recover enough to remount my bike.  One two many pain au raisin (see note at end) and croissants - plus a glass or two too many of French wine was taking its toll - this combined with a lack of mileage recently had made the climb unbearable. I hate to say this, and I did have permission from Steve C to not mention it, but I did stop very briefly, towards the top, for a rest.  The false summits that Ditchling is renowned for added to my other issues and seemed to demoralise and drain me.  Also, I had made a mistake in an effort to 'bury' Steve C, and had over 'cooked' it; shortly after I passed him he passed me, but when seeing me slumped over my bike, when he could have easily 'milked' the situation, he merely asked me if I was O.K.  - a true gent indeed.

Earlier.....07:51 a.m - Normans Bay Crossing

'It's called style, Neil, you wouldn't understand'

I was responding to Neil who had noticed my very 'on trend' and lovely, new, Specialzed 'Airnet' helmet, and was alluding to the size of it in order that he could get a smutty and childish comment, 'along the lines of': "Bussy's got a big helmet!", into the conversation.

I put it down to jealousy and surveyed the rest of the group - good turnout! - eleven in all. Last to arrive was Paul, whom I hadn't seen since before my wedding (I know that because he asked me if I had a good wedding.)  Just before that Simon Grogan arrived; I must say it was good of him to give up his Sunday to police the event and ensure that we didn't turn into a rabble; in fact I would suggest that if more people adopted the same selfless approach to life then the world would be a much happier place.  The other non-regulars were John V and Gareth - everyone else was a seasoned Pre BBR Brighton Special regular.

Stripping down to one layer in the balmy December weather

At the Pevensey roundabout, JV decided he wanted to bypass the muddy lanes up to the Hailsham Road and
asked me for some information on the route so that he could meet up with us later.  I explained, that as much as I would love to answer his question, I didn't really have a clue.  In fact the lanes weren't too bad, a few muddy patches and big puddles, but quite navigable.  I did note later in the ride, by looking at how clean Neil appeared compared to the rest of us, that there is a massive gain to be had from using mudguards.  I don't know why more of us don't use them.  I did put them on my second bike last year, but they got damaged; I have a new set in the garage and I'm currently awaiting the motivation to put them on.

Just short of Ringmer I felt the dreaded 'rumble' - it was one of those moments when you hope its just the road surface and then the realisation 'hits' that it's a puncture - luckily the front tyre.  I called out and Gareth, Tom and Paul stopped to assist. It took longer to work out how to use my C02 gadget than it took to change the inner tube, but once I had re-figured it out I was glad I didn't have to inflate manually (I have a combined mini pump and canister holder which is great once I work out which bit goes where.)  The remainder of the group were waiting a bit down the road and I showed my appreciation by shouting out "losers" as I sailed past them.

Just short of Ditchling Beacon JV bad us farewell - obviously fearing getting home late more than any potential ribbing from the group about avoiding ascending it (to be fair Gareth pointed out that he had 'been up it last week' after a few beers on the Hack Run) - so O.K well let you off then John - was great to see you!

Thank goodness the Uni cafe was open!

I did feel some trepidation after Ditchling that the Brighton Campus restaurant may be closed, as it was a Sunday, and I wouldn't get any food.  It was Patrick who raised this issue, but I think he was just panicking the same as me.  We needn't have worried, the lights were on and it was open for business.  Sadly for Stewart, he was unable to join us, as while leading from the front he hadn't noticed we had turned off and carried on for a few extra miles.  By the time he arrived we were just finishing and although he was invited to get some food he settled for nibbling on a few alfalfa shoots that he had brought with him.  I put it down to youthful over zealousness and hoped that he had learned from the experience. I was surprised when I looked at peoples' choices that Patrick didn't
have beans:

"They just looked too perfect, I prefer them a bit more congealed"

My favourite part of the ride comes after breakfast when we use the cycle path along side the A27. This down hill section always seems to be accompanied by a tail wind and with the added draught of the cars whizzing past just a few feet away it makes for an exhilarating experience.

After this we became stretched out into two three groups all the way to Newhaven.  I was in the second group with Tom, Steve and Gareth and we waited for Paul and Mal C to catch up before setting off in pursuit of the first group.  We met up with them at the end of the cycle path that leads from Newhaven to Seaford where they
were waiting for us.  I noticed there was one person missing:

"So what he just fecked off then?", I said

"Yes, he just sort of shot of" said Gareth, "I think he was in a rush to get back"

"Do you know he told me off on the Chain Gang on Wednesday, for going too fast off the front?"

"Well, he seemed very calm today" said Steve, "I only heard him say:'Oh, for f*ck's sake', once."

His work done, Simon G had left us to fend for ourselves. Would we descend into a rabble or would we maintain the professional standard of cycling that he had encouraged?.  Seriously, Simon, we appreciate the fact that you take safety and good practice seriously and you will always be welcome to join us again on the PBBRBS.

We kept together as one group all the way to the bottom of the Seven Sisters climb, when, as usual, it became every man for himself.  I was in group of one trying to keep up with Steve and Paul.  I didn't find the climb as difficult as dealing with all the frustrated drivers trying to squeeze past us - we seemed to be creating, through no fault of ours, congestion at the top of the hill.  Since returning from France I am finding it difficult to cope with all the cars on the road (I'm sure they feel the same about us cyclists.)

On the stretch to the top of Beachy I felt quite strong and even manged to pull away from Tom, Steve, Paul and Mal C.  Tom and I did have a mini 'man-off' as he eased past me on the zig zag part but I caught him up and then eased past him.  I met up with the elite group by the bogs and while shivering in the chilly breeze a passing cyclist informed us that one of our group had problems with bike and was stuck in top gear. In order to keep warm Stewart suggested we shelter behind the hedge that screens the bogs and then pulled us all in for a group man-hug.

"Can you feel it?", asked Neil

"I'd rather not, mate, if you don't mind, I mean when I said let's have a hug I didn't mean anything more than that!", said a shocked Stewart

"No,no....I mean can you feel the vibe?", said Neil

"Yeah, I suppose I can", said Stewart who was now eyeing Neil in a slightly suspicious manner.

"It's called man-love", explained Neil

Gareth looked on a bit bemused.  Tom had his eyes closed and was trying his best to get into the zone.  I just made mental notes for the blog.

Shortly afterwards Steve and Paul arrived and informed us that it was Mal C who had the problem.

Steve, Paul and I said we would wait for Mal while the others headed off. We didn't have to wait long before he arrived looking quite composed, considering that he must have a really tough time getting up to the top of Beachy with his busted bike.

We reassured Mal that he should be able to get back O.K as it was downhill, or flat, all the way back to Hastings and we said we would follow him.

As it transpired we never say him again, so assumed he was on his way back safely (he did text me later to say how grateful he was that we waited for him and that he was now home.)

Paul and I made our way to Pevensey and waited for Steve - who had decided to take the cycle path from Eastbourne instead of the road. Once he arrived I said I was going to buy some cakes from the bakery as was my usual habit.  Although Vicki is in France I still decided to buy two doughnuts and eat them both myself. Steve said he would come with me and have a cup of tea, but upon opening the door he changed his mind - it was rammed!

"Never mind Steve, would you like a cup of tea at my house?",

"Oh, yes please, that would be great", he replied

Paul decided he would shoot off and I led Steve into the heart of the PRNB.

Once settled at the dining table Steve quickly downed two mugs of tea while we discussed the events of the day.

"Got any biscuits?", he said

"I've got some pink wafers"

"They'll do, thanks".

Just before he left we were joined by Matt Schubert who popped by for a cup of tea.  He had had quite a traumatic week, but now looked 'chilled'.

The PBBRBS is a memorable day with great cycling, great banter and average food! - come and join us on the next one

I'm off to France again on Tuesday 22nd for three weeks and am looking forward to it immensely.

Peter Buss

Note:
I have eaten real pain au raisins while in France and, sadly, I have to report that we don't get the proper ones over here.  The 'real ones' have a squidgy center - similar to the consistency of bead and butter pudding - are delicious and bare no resemblance to the hard, dry offerings from our supermarkets and bakers.

20/12 BBR Brighton Special - Battling the Wind and the Hills

Chaotic Laurel and hardy start for Neil!

It didn't start very well. One of my regular 'chaos bubbles' descended on Sunday morning. I spilled a pint of tea on the landing carpet, then blocked the toilet. Whilst checking my tyres, I deflated one, instead of inflating it, then dropped the bike, then my water bottles, then my money and phone... It was like Laurel and Hardy, one of those days when I'd find fluency only on the bike. Thank the Lord for Cannondale and cycling.

 My emergency plumbing works made me slightly late for the departure, and I arrived to find ten riders all ready for the off, waiting in the faint light of a cloudy winter dawn. I think they were: Peter Buss, Steve C, Stewart B, John V, Paul, Tom N, Simon G, Patrick P, Malc C, myself and Gareth P. Others had given their apologies, among them Peter Baker (Athens) and Matt S (yes, what WAS your excuse Matt?).

Threatening grey skies but thankfully no rain!

The route took us across Rickney Marsh to the Hailsham Road, then up to the Cuckoo Trail to take us to the Horsebridge Road. John V and Gareth took a detour at this point to avoid what JV was convinced would be terrible roads. He explained his route twice to me, but I still don't understand it - something about a bridge, a castle and the main road. Anyhow, we made steady progress northwards, riding around the usual early morning dog walkers, but not seeing any other cyclists.

We turned west off the Cuckoo Trail toward the Boship roundabout (awash with traffic cops), then rode through the Dickers, before turning off and entering the strangely flat and featureless area in and around Arlington. The roads are mostly straight, but with random 90 degree turns. You're never quite sure if you've taken the correct turn and, somehow, I always feel I could get lost for a week in the narrow lanes there.

The first and only puncture fell to Peter Buss, on the road to Lewes. After what seemed like three hours, he was ready to roll, having had trouble with his gas cylinder. He then told me off for not being there to help. Outrageous! The road from Cooksbridge past Plumpton is deceptively 'up', with lots of short and sharp slopes, warming the legs nicely before the first main hill of the day - Ditchling Beacon. JV turned back at this point, perhaps wisely, as he needed to get home to earn Christmas brownie-points.

Lord Buss overcooked it on Ditchling Beacon!

Patrick, Gareth, Stewart and I led the way, with Simon G just behind. Stewart had left his rear pocket open, making a convenient hand-hold. I latched on for a cheeky tow, but he seemed reluctant to help me out, so I had to pedal the whole way up without any assistance. Patrick and Gareth pulled away as Simon G and Stewart fell back a little. Slowly but surely, I was gaining on the front two, edging ever closer, but running out of road on which to catch them. I upped the pace as much as I could near the final ramp, but I couldn't quite reach them, and then Simon G put in a final big effort to get around me and onto the other two. I couldn't say who reached the top first as I had my head down, riding in a private world of agony. I rode through the top and past the car park, with Patrick and the others in various states of collapse at the entrance. It's a tough hill but somehow I'd ridden up it in my fastest time, even though I was on the 'Cannonball', with its extra weight. Very pleased with that!

The breakfast stop follows shortly after Ditchling, as we turn off the main road, cut though a car park and down a steep lane with speed bumps. The trick is to go as fast as you dare and leap the bumps, remembering that there is a metal gate at the bottom, so you can't let go completely! Stewart was in such a rush that he missed the turn, despite me shouting after him, firing a flare and calling the police. His new sideburns are, I think, impairing his hearing as well as his looks and aerodynamic efficiency. They are so 1970's! I quite expect him to make his next ride wearing a tank-top and flares. This look will nicely match his Raleigh Grifter.

As hoped, the Sussex Uni canteen was open. The food is good value for money and the machine-made coffee is strong and tasty. We had the place almost to ourselves - ten sweaty, mud-splattered, lycra-clad blokes of a certain age, hunkered down over huge plates of sausage, bacon, mushrooms, beans, toast, fried and scrambled eggs, hippopotamus steaks, grilled tomatoes... Malc C in particular had 'gone for broke', with a huge mountain of food that I didn't think he could possibly eat, but somehow he did, stuffing the last few forkfuls into his shorts for later. Et moi? Je mange une pain au chocolate. Magnifique!

Somehow, the rest of the group managed to remount their bikes and move their pedals, moving blood from their stomachs to their legs as we climbed the steep hill out of the University towards the Lewes Road cycle path. For the first time that day, we had some wind behind us and I tore along the path towards the Lewes roundabout, missing at one point the deviation in the path and leaping off a curb at 45kph. Exhilarating! The Cannonball takes such foolery totally in its stride, whereas my Giant would've banged hard into the road and shimmied like a belly dancer.

The route from here cuts along the north side of the Downs to Newhaven. There are some fast and pleasant stretches at this point, but also some stretches on which prize dickheads converge to drive their Golf GTIs. One young driver wedged herself between us, instead of waiting for a clear opportunity to overtake, and another came so close to my right leg that I could touch the car. The driver seemed to find this amusing and I made my feelings on the matter very clear. We were also riding at a decent speed, so it did feel a bit unnecessary. The group has split at this point into two, with Patrick, Simon, Stewart and I riding ahead and rotating the front as much as we could in the traffic.

Thankfully, Newhaven was soon behind us and the traffic and associated knobby-drivers reduced to more manageable levels, especially once we were through Seaford. Patrick and I swept fast down to the Golden Galleon, before grinding our way up Exceat to Friston Ponds. Patrick put in a fine effort, pulling out a big gap, greeting me from a bench at the top as I came to a sweaty halt. Ugh! Beachy Head to come and my legs were tired. The ray of hope was the strong wind that would give us a push up the winding slopes.

Stewart and I pushed our way into the strengthening wind that tore through Birling Gap. Stewart shouted to me that 'this is almost comical' and I knew what he meant - we were almost blown backwards, but it didn't feel very funny. And then the corner comes into view, you bank left the wind suddenly on your flank, and then as you make the full turn the roar of the wind leaves your ears and then shoves you in the back. I'd ridden 95km to experience this, so I span my pedals as best I could, determined that I would be first up Beachy. I gradually pulled away from Stewart and then Patrick, making the final ramp well clear of him. Home and dry, I thought, but as I neared the bus stop, I became aware of a carbon wheel, then a pointy beard, and then a golden earring. Patrick was trying to steal it on the line.

"Oi, I'm not having that!" I shouted at him and I leapt out of the saddle and gave it the beans. Cheeky Bugger! although to be fair, it's what I did to him on Ditchling the last time we did this ride, but that was different. We pulled into the car park and had a laugh about it, the others arriving in dribs and drabs. Peter B arrived elated, saying 'I smashed them, they're nowhere'. We soon understood why, as an old gent on a steel touring bike informed us that one of the group had a snapped rear derailleur cable and was stuck in bottom gear.

Oh dear. It seems that the weight of Malc C's breakfast had finally taken its toll, putting some much strain on his bike that something had to give. We waited some time, concluding that he must be walking up. Patrick, Stewart, Gareth and I were by now getting very cold, despite lots of group man hugs to share body warmth. We hacked back to the Pevensey roundabout before going our separate ways, Stewart and I riding back to Cooden with empty legs and stomachs, ready for a well-earned cuppa and late lunch as we upload to Strava! I was chuffed to have earned a good stack of PRs, especially up Ditchling, on a heavier bike with mudguards on a windy day.

This is a tough ride, not because the hill density is that high, but because the three main hills are lengthy climbs. The flat or rolling sections balance that out, and a nice south westerly wind helps on the homeward leg. Its a good social ride in a largish group, with lots of banter and support, so I recommend you come with us the next time we do this ride, which I think might be late February (tbc). Thanks again to Peter Buss for plotting the route and organising the ride, with help from Steve C.

Safe riding, Neil

Wednesday Chain Gang - Festive Fairy Light Frolics

Fairy spectacular!

I think that, in all, 25 riders turned out on a warm, balmy evening (by December's standards), for a brisk chain gang followed by a beer or two in Bexhill. Half a dozen or so had decorated their bikes with fairy lights, and some also had lights wound about their personage. Peter Buss came dressed as a chicken. No, I don't know why. Stewart says he looked like the robber penguin in Wallace and Gromit, but that's not very kind.

There was much banter and mock insult throwing before the off, with Steve C choreographing photographs (an excuse for more verbal abuse between the riders) and lots of fiddling with dodgy switches on cheap lights. It was great to see Sue Landy out for her first chain gang, admittedly feeling 'terrified', but she's a strong rider and had a good night. We hope we see you again Sue!

Having seen the ultras on their way, we waited whilst Steve ''David Bailey' Curtis took more photos, and waited again whilst he packed away his gear, and then we were finally off in a large group of 15 or so riders. A faster front group split away quite early, but was then caught by another group as we pushed on across the marshes. There were all sorts of groupings thereafter as riders fall back or caught up. Not the neatest outward chain, but good fun.

The return was a mass start and the pace soon span up to a fast back return leg, again in fractured groups. I fell in with Simon G, JV, Stewart and Dan. We overtook one group that included Sue and Nick (without his pink shorts this time), then worked well together along Herbrand and the first part of Cooden Drive. Stewart took the front and Simon G jokingly said 'leave him out there, so he doesn't burn us off up Cooden Lump'. It seems Stewart took exception to this and put in a spurt that opened a 40 metre gap.

Lord Buss is auditioning for the  next Ardman film!

I didn't think this was very 'corporate', to borrow a term from my office, so I came off the back of the group to lead an attack on the villainous Lord Buckland. He turned to sneer at us, an evil Dick Dastardly glint in his eye, and then raised a provocative finger in a defiant salute. This spurred me on further and I shouted encouragement to my fellow riders - 'let's get the bastard'. I heard the laughter of a maniac ahead, but I was gaining on him, edging a metre closer every few seconds. But then, the road conspired against me - the Cooden Lump reared up and slowed me down sufficiently for Stewart to escape, and for the others to pull past me too. Really must work on my hills...

We glided into the group at the traffic lights as the rain began to fall more heavily, so a good number of us adjourned to the pub, as planned, for a Christmas drink. It's always good to have a bit more time than usual to talk to fellow club members, about the ride, bikes old and new, jobs, plans for Christmas or the next 'big ride'. Suitably refreshed, I helped Peter Buss back onto his bike and began the ride back to the nursing home, in a strengthening breeze and drizzly rain.

God, he was slow and I was cold after the warmth of the bar. We crawled along Bexhill front, until Peter shouted that he thought his brakes were jammed on. He thought lack of use might have led to them seizing up, but I suspected foul play from Peter Baker, arch mischief-maker and saboteur. Otherwise, why didn't his brakes seize up earlier? Rumbled, Mr Baker!

We released the side levers and our rate of progress improved, but it was suddenly a miserable ride in crappy weather. The red, blue and green fairy lights on my crossbar refracted through the raindrops on my glasses in a kaleidoscope of colour, making it impossible to see where I was going. I peered over them as we ground our way along Herbrand, looking forward to riding home with the wind behind me and at a pace that would warm me up.

Peter's antlers drooped in the rain at the border crossing, no longer the proud and upstanding 'Le Coq' so admired by Stewart at the start of the evening. Rain dripped off our helmets and soaked through the shoulders of our shirts. Time for home and warm food, even though it was by now 10pm.

There will be a chain gang next week, on Wednesday 23rd, the perfect prelude to your Christmas festivities. At this rate, it should be around 18 degrees, so get your legs out for Santa.

Rides this weekend include the 'Brighton Special', leaving Normans Bay at 07:50 (arrive at 07:45, if possible). The weather looks reasonable - it certainly will not be cold!

Safe riding, Neil

Part Deux - En Francais

The beauty of the French countryside cries out for cycling!

'Cycling in Lot & Garonne - it helps to have a bike'

Sunday 6th December 10:02 a.m - Pitouret Bas

"Ah, jeeze, it's only a fecking bike, you can have it", said Dermond

I surveyed the beautiful object in front of me.

"It's not just a bike it's a great bike, a real classic; look it's got a Reynolds 531 frame", I said, excitedly.

"Well, yers can have it anyway"

Not a bad bike considering the price!

"But, I must pay you something for it"

"Ah, feck me, just take it, I don't want any money; yers can have it for free - it just needs a new saddle. I've still got another bike, I'll tell yer what, we can go out cycling together some time, but if yer turn out to a fecking professional yer can feck off, O.K?"

He bad me goodbye and I was left alone with my new possession.  I lifted it, in the classic manor, using the saddle and bars, to gauge the weight.

"Mmmm, about a ton and a half", I thought to myself, "but who cares - I'm in love"

I admired the beautiful turquoise paintwork (I'm pronouncing this in my head as turqwarze) and the embossed seat stay - sure signs of quality; the drops engraved with 'hand made' - oh, what a delight.  She's a Dawes 'Super Galaxy', complete with a triple chain set, 'rat traps', mud guards and down tube shifters.  I straddled her for the first time and imagined the fun we would have together.

The Previous Day

03:15 p.m - Decathlon Sports Superstore , Marmond

" 'ow can I 'elp you", said the young assistant

" I'm after 'zis, sorry, this, bike", I replied.

I pointed at the B'twin Triban 500.

"It has great reviews in the U.K, for the money, do you think it will be o.k for all situations, here?"

"On zer flat - yes, in ze montans, you will be tired after only two hours"

At this point Vicki interjected.

 "So, if he goes up the range, what then?"

The assistant pointed at the Triban 520.

"I zink wiv zis bike, monsieur will be very 'appy"

Vicki turned to me and said:

"So if I buy you it for Christmas, will you be satisfied?"

"Oh, certainly, I'll be ecstatic!"

It looks great, feels light and has a 'Sora' group set with triple chain set  - not bad for a holiday bike! After receiving a mini bike fit I added all the extras I needed like: pedals, pump, bottle cage etc, and was just about to make for the pay point when I spotted the soft archery set.

"That would be great fun!", I said to Vicki.

"Well if you're happy to pay for it we can take it.

I turned to the assistant.

"We'll have one of those as well"

"I zink they are for cheeldren", he protested

"How far do the arrows go?"

"About 50 metres, I zink"

"Well I want it then"

We stood at the pay point with my lovely new bike and my new archery set and I felt pretty good about the world.

"You realise that you can't have the bike until Christmas morning", said Vicki

"But I still haven't got a bike", I protested

"Well you can carry on using that old bike you've been doing the baguette runs on a for a few more days, surely?"

"Yeah, I guess so, but please don't call me Shirley (yes, that old 'chestnut' again)"

I was a bit upset that I had been in France for 9 days now and I still didn't have a bike (to be fair, I had agreed with Vicki that I would give priority to getting the house straight), but it would be great to receive the bike on Christmas morning - all red and black and shiny.  I had been building up a real hatred for my Raleigh Ladies Sportive - I really don't know how Neil copes with his one.  It has five gears - all of them sh*t, and weighs an absolute ton; I didn't realise Raleigh had a cast iron frame in their range.
.
On the way back home a 'light bulb' went on in my head: I had remembered that Dermond had said he had a bike I could borrow. I'll text him when I get back and see if I can 'borrow' it.  Dermond is the guy who has been doing work for us in our new home - and is know locally as 'Father Ted'.  I really like him, even if every other word he says is 'feck' - I find this really amusing - I'm not sure Vicki does.

The Next Day

08:21 a.m - Pitouret Bas

Pete is made up with his 'classic' Dawes!

Helmet-less and in jogging bottoms I set off for the boulangerie on my new Dawes.  It took a while to get used to using the down tube shifters - but what a revelation! - the gear changes were precise and instant.  When I joined the club my first bike was a Peugeot with DTS, but I don't remember it being as sharp as this.  Our house is halfway up a lane that gets progressively steeper and the short trip is downhill all the way there and uphill all the way back.  On the Raleigh I couldn't quite make the final few meters from the lane and up our drive, but on the Dawes - no effort at all - as I pulled up outside our house I looked through the window and hoped that Vicki had witnessed this momentous achievement.

After the usual superb breakfast I changed into my Tenn 'club kit'.

"Don't go too far, sweetie, you know what you're like for getting lost!", said Vicki reassuringly.

"Don't worry I'll use one of my Strava routes, I'll just do a 15 mile loop"

The lovely river Lot!

Our house is situated part-way up the side of the Vallee du Lot and offers some challenging cycling.  The Dawes was a delight - the extra chain wheel compensates nicely for the the extra weight making climbing a slow but manageable affair.  I was loving it.  Once you reach the top of the valley the views down to the river Lot are amazing.  I was a bit concerned that I didn't have a spare 'chambre a air' , but the 32 mm chunky tyres looked like they could take a pounding. It is all uphill until you reach the high point and then you 'whizz' down to the bottom of valley in one go - a really exhilarating ride through twists and turns - I never felt able to really 'let go' but I'm sure I will in time.

It is a real treat to ride on these French roads, the lack of cars and the great road surfaces add massively to the experience.  The only problem seems to be with dogs who laze around in the road outside some of the houses in the small villages -  I was chased for about 100 meters by a small, but really aggressive 'Yorky looking' dog who wanted to kill me.

Back home I uploaded my ride onto Strava and was delighted that I had got a trophy - seventh overall on the 'D101 Climb'.  This feeling of elation was increased further by the comment I received from Neil saying: 'Nice trophy' - but why then did he find it necessary to point out to me, the next day, that I was 7th out of 7? - cruel b*stard!

I have to be honest and say I didn't do very much cycling while I was there, mostly because I didn't have a bike for the first 9 days , but I am hoping to do a lot more when I go again, on the 22nd Dec.  I have some friends staying with us and my dear friend John Davis, who is a real lover of 'old skool' bikes, is just going to love the Dawes!

The First Day

"Oh, feck me, look at that", I screeched

"Don't try to sound like Dermond - it's not big and it's not clever - what have you seen?", said Vicki

"A big black boar just ran past the window!"

"Where?"

"Well it's gone now"

That Night

We were having a peaceful evening in front of the log fire when we heard a massive kerfuffle going on outside.  We opened the french doors and gazed into the blackness.  The boars were gathering outside and letting us know of their presence through screeching and snorting.  The previous owner had told us that they are living on our land, but at the back and in the trees.  Not being Dr Doolittle I didn't understand what they were saying but it was probably along the lines of 'Feck off, this is our patch".

"We'll have to let the 'Le Chasse' onto our land to sort them out, I don't want them attacking Poppy", said a worried Vicki.

"I think once they know we are living here they will keep away", I said

Sunday morning seems to be when 'Le Chasse' happens.  You can hear gun shots in the distance.

Since that night we have not seen them again, and at the time of writing Vicki, who is still in France has said she hasn't heard them but has seen hoof prints all around the house.  I quite like the idea of them being in the garden as long as they keep their distance so we have decided to go for the option of putting  'Chasse Interdit' signs on our boundaries to keep the hunt out.

Beaujolais at just 2 euros 80 cents a bottle!

Among the many lovely things about being here is the wildlife; we have seen an eagle, plus many other interesting and colourful birds, and red squirrels (they are getting Poppy very excited.)  The old cliche about France is that it offers great food, wine and a slower pace of life - this is so true.  I was delighted to discover Beaujolais Nouveau at 2 euros 80 cents a bottle in the local Carrefore  - this was a great price, but when I when back a few days later it had been reduced to 2 euros! .Vicki and I have accepted that we will definitely become fat alcoholics if we aren't careful.

HSLCC members welcome here!

The house itself was great a 'find', it was built in 2002 using some of the materials from the original farmhouse so it looks old but has all the benefits of a new house. It is only a mile from the Medieval town of Clairac, which is a pretty, but small town on the river Lot and has everything we need.  I'm hoping that members of the club will join me here for some great cycling in due course.


Peter Buss

Saturday Pre-BBR and BBR - Modest Turnout Enjoys Good Weather

 Just two of us made the border crossing with Normans Bay for the pre-BBR jaunt to Beachy Head, with various others either riding the Pete Tadros Hack Ride or being in France, or on the way back from France, or buying Christmas trees, or collecting Aunt Mabel from the dog's home. It's that time of year.

Just two riders at Norman's bay!

Adam and I set off a little late, waiting for any last minute arrivals, but there were none. For once this month, there was no howling gale and rain to fight against. Happy days! The marsh lane was busy with a good number of cyclists, among them our own most excellent Stuart Hodd, whipping along at a good pace. We enjoyed a chatty but fairly quick ride to Beachy, pausing for a shot of the view (grey on top of grey) and a stylish 'selfie'. What wind there was gave us a helpful push back along the top road and, once we have descended Dukes Drive, along the Eastbourne sea front. Somehow, I picked up a PR on the stretch to the pier, without really trying.

Grey skies at Beachy!

We pushed on along the Langney and Pevensey stretches, riding through the site of a police checkpoint we had passed on the way out. A car was parked at the side of the road with a big orange poster plastered to the windscreen - "East Sussex Police - Car Seized", or something similar. I reckoned it was because of no insurance, but Adam reckons it was something more sinister. We both thought we saw a couple of Peter Buss's favourite cushions on the back sill and an empty bag marked 'swag' on the back seat. Very curious.

Pulling into Di Paulos, it was soon apparent that it would be a small group ride for the Bacon Butty Run ie just me and Adam. I tucked into a piece of the excellent fruit cake and Adam scoffed scrambled eggs, both washed down with good coffee. It tasted brilliant after the 30 mile round-trip to Beachy. We sat, checked phones, looked out of the window. A brief drizzly shower was lifting and the sky brightened.

Aha! Who was this? Theo Tadros rolled up, too young for the boozy exploits of his father's ride. Then Mark Ingram arrived and we had enough riders to call ourselves a group. Just as we were pulling away, Jaguar arrived too, breathless from his frantic ride to make the start in time. Five fine riders.

All in all, we were well matched as a group, some of us stronger on the flat and others strong on the hills. The less well-used lanes were wetter than I expected, with standing water in many places and plenty of mud. Even with mudguards, my bike was filthy before we reached the turn for the lane to Rickney. Mark picked up a puncture. We waved on Adam, Theo and Jaguar and paused to assess the situation. A small but perfectly formed flint had cut and then wedged itself into the tyre, neatly puncturing the inner tube. It looked hand made. Ok, small hands, but nonetheless finely done, I thought.

Mark is a craftsman: 'I'm not going to rush this", he said. One of his bottle cages held a tool cannister. Out came a small folding table for the tools and on went the latex gloves. "If you could assist please Neil?" I felt a weight of expectation fall on my shoulders - one false move and this repair could go pear-shaped. "Sure", I replied, nonchalantly. "Then bring over the patient".

The rear wheel was out of the frame in a flash and I held it as Mark went in with the tyre levers. "Hold it still man, steady yourself!", Mark growled. "Sorry" I meekly whispered. The tyre levers span left and right around the tyre, and then in one deft movement the bead was levered over the rim. "We're in" said Mark, "now, stand back".

I took a pace to my left. Mark's left hand pushed up the valve and his right hand pinched the tube between thumb and forefinger. He gave a sharp tug and the tube was out, flung to one side, limp and airless. I picked it up carefully, folded the valve stem first and then wrapped the rest of the tube into a neat bundle, for later repair.

Meanwhile, Mark was breaking out a new inner tube, tearing off the sterilised packaging and pushing the valve into the rim. His hands worked in a precise and fluid motion to first lift the rim and then tuck in the tube. In a similar manner, he worked the bead back over the rim, circling around the wheel and motioning for some help for the final push. The tyre was in place and Mark now pumped in some air as I held it steady. Next, for the final inflation, a CO2 cylinder was emptied into the tube, the bead popping satisfyingly into place on the rim. Final checks were made and then the wheel replaced in the frame, the disk slotting neatly between the brake pads.

"Clear up the tools, nurse." I think he meant me, so I wiped off any mud or water and slid them back into the tool cannister. "Your tools Mark" I said, as I handed him the cannister. "Let's go" was the brisque reply.

Heated accommodation at Chilly farm!

By now, the wind was picking up and we worked hard to get across the marsh to the Rickney turn. Rolling into Chilly Farm, we ordered and moved into the very cosy shelter, heated by a large woodburner - the one that Peter Buss 'mated' with the other week. Some shreds of charred and molten lycra hung from one corner of it, as a warning to anyone else tempted to do the same. I shuddered at the thought.

Theo and Jaguar take training seriously, although Jag is keener on weights than cycling. Theo is aiming for 200 miles a week at the moment, an impressive mileage target for a young man of 13. The most I have managed is about 150 miles, and that was enough, but I guess if you do a daily commute over a decent distance it's easy enough to rack up the miles.

Our group span back to Bexhill ahead of the increasing breeze, parting ways at the traffic lights in town. An excellent morning's riding!

Neil

Wednesday Chain Gang - Twinkle, Tinkle, Tailor, Fly

First ever chain-gang for Shirley!

"Okay, I think we've done wind now - time for some new weather", I said out loud to no-one in particular. I quickly regretted this plea, as you should be careful what you wish for. I guess you can blame me if it is raining next week but, seriously, what is it with the constant howling gales?

Despite the wind, I think 21 riders took advantage of an otherwise dry and relatively warm December evening to get their thighs burning and their wheels turning (oh yeah), spinning with gritted teeth into a strong south-westerly wind in two groups. Less frequently seen riders included George W and the rarer-still 'Red Suze' (I think, from memory). Making her first chain gang appearance was Shirley Y, wearing her familiar blue top and shiny metallic helmet. Riders from Eastbourne were thinner on the ground than usual - where is the Bianci Bomber these days?

Out went the Ultras, more or less at 19:27. Steve C and I dithered a bit before leading out 'the rest', both soon wishing someone larger and stronger would take the wind off us. I did a turn until near the De La Warr, before Malc D powered past and pulled out a gap as we neared the roundabout. He slowed, thankfully, as we turned along Bexhill front and then the rotation-proper began with Stewart Buckland (not a Lord this week, mixing with the plebs) pulling a train of riders down the outside of the group.

Gareth brings the spirit of Xmas to the chain-gang!

South Cliff provided that extra bit of resistance and I found myself off the back with Peter Baker, both of us trying to get back on before the turn onto Cooden Drive. We joined forces and caught up with Simon G as he too was gapped and then slowed by the merciless wind. And so it remained for the rest of the outward leg. As a trio, we shared the lead across the marshes and up Spooky, staying together well and making what would otherwise be an ordeal into a hard but satisfying ride.

The return wind-powered leg was considerably less tidy, with groups forming, bridging to others, then splitting as riders took the front and leapt forward. I felt I went strongly up the western side of Spooky, but it's all relative - the Ultras were long-gone, but I was with a group of varied riders that pelted down the east slope to the sweeping left bend at the level crossing. The Star Inn, Herbrand level crossing and Walk all came and went with indecent haste, the challenge being to spin the legs fast enough to stay ahead of the wind. I hacked along Cooden Drive with (I think) Steve Butcher and Suze, with Steve making a final strong effort that I just about managed to overhaul.

Puffing and blowing at the traffic lights were a good number of riders who had made very good speed to Bexhill. Gareth 'Hairy Fairy' Purves was leaning over his Christmas Special winter trainer, complete with multi-coloured lights, flashing blue, red and green onto his bushy-beard. "Doesn't it slow you down?" asked a perplexed Stewart B. "No, my beard and the lights are aero" said Gareth, with deadpan calm. Just thought I'd report that. Biggest smile at the finish was from Shirley, who had clearly enjoyed the fast night ride.

A touch reluctantly, Steve and I headed back into the now strengthening wind, escorting Stewart to his waiting domestic staff. It was a struggle, especially along Herbrand. Steve fell back and a car came into the gap. Inexplicably, it decided to overtake me as a car came the other way, stopping just in time and without pulling left and flattening me. How can you not notice another car 30m in front, heading towards you with its lights on? I think drivers get fixated with overtaking a cyclist and stop looking ahead.

Steve latched back on and we discussed how riding form can vary, for no obvious reason. I'm not sure we should judge ourselves too harshly when we've already bashed into a strong headwind for miles, and then pelted back along the same roads. It's easy to forget the other side of riding - getting exercise in fresh air and with good company, being closer to nature and your local environment, feeling the change of the seasons - and to focus overly on going faster each and every ride. Just. Not. Possible.

As a timely reminder of what else cycling offers, a large Barn Owl wheeled around us as we started our return leg, it's white underside lit by the stray beams from our lights. It swooped left over the hedge and disappeared into the dark marsh as we rode with the wind behind us again, legs suddenly bionic and tiredness receding as home loomed closer. We went hard along Herbrand Walk, getting some payback for having twice ridden into the wind at its worst on this stretch. It was our turn to be lit, but from the side, as we rode along Cooden Drive, now a corridor lined with flashing and twinkling lights, a sure sign that Christmas really is coming soon.

See you next week for more chain gang adventures, followed by a beer or two at The Forum in Bexhill. Perhaps a few more of us could wire up our bikes with coloured lights - cheap battery-powered ones are easy to find. We can use Steve Gadget's mobile generator for power (but I'd make your own connection).

A reminder also that there will be a BBR Brighton Special ride on Sunday 20th December (yes, Sunday). Meet at 7:50 at Normans Bay, whatever the weather. This is a long ride via Ditchling Beacon to the northern edge of Brighton, where we find a late breakfast, before returning via Seaford, Exceat and Beachy Head. Have your climbing legs ready!

Wednesday Chain Gang - Double-Dozen Wind-Warriors

It was a hard and fast night's riding, with 24 riders arriving in a rush to battle a strong and blustery south-westerly wind to Pevensey. Every small difference in power and fitness is magnified in such conditions, every missed opportunity or lapse in concentration can cost you dear. A small gap can open, letting in the full force of the wind, and then you are done for - destined to be blown backwards to a following group, or into a long, hard solo ride.

Good to see Ivan back on the chain after his recent back problems!

The gale was grim, but warm and dry - a giant hairdryer on heat setting 1 (tousle). We set out in two groups, the ultras pulling away strongly, propelled by flashing red LEDs. The second group was delayed a little waiting for Joe King to sort out his seat post, finding himself briefly in the unusual company of the rounder, older or slower riders (or, for some, all three). Joe was soon away, although I doubt he caught the fast ones up, working alone into that breeze.

The second group was soon winnowed by the wind into the fast and the not so, riding in a long fractured line from South Cliff onwards. I 'visited' nearly every group and rider during the outward leg, having started at the front with a range of chain gang stalwarts, but dropping from group to group as I struggled up various slopes, or got caught by the wind. One of those nights, I guess, but I've always struggled in these conditions.

Peter Baker and another rider caught me near Spooky Hill and we descended the west slope together, his bike making an interesting sound arrangement from dodgy pedals and gear changes. The new rider twice shot off the front and got a 'verbal warning', before we realised he was new to the chain gang. Sorry! We were a bit more supportive after that, showing him how to ease off and we made the roundabout without further ado. It's been a while since we've had to show someone the ropes. We waited for the remaining riders and thought all were safely gathered in, until Steve C pointed out that Steve 'Gadget' Ferguson had not arrived.

Disrespectful comments followed, referencing the energy usage of his many gadgets. Some speculated that he was a bit slower than usual because he was towing a small generator to power them all. A vicious rumour! But I do think a single, central power source might be a good idea, rather than batteries for each and every device, but that would take a bit of wiring. Steve's an electrician, so he won't have a bloody clue.

Back we raced and I kept pace with the ultras wind-powered blast across the marshes. We hit the Spooky slope, I fell back and was then overtaken by a second group. I latched on to them as best I could, but they were also too fast for me. Oh dear, it was not going very well; that horrible feeling of deja vu. Perhaps I should try Weetabix, like that young Micky Maxwell.

Somewhere along Herbrand, I was joined by Lord B - 'wooden legs, old chap, no juice in them tonight' - and we chatted between efforts to go faster and repel Peter Baker. I enquired as to his tired legs. 'Nuns' was the answer, 'dressed as nuns', he continued. I looked behind me in confusion, expecting to see a group of Holy Sisters on sit-up-and-beg bikes, riding us down, but thankfully none were in sight.

Further questions, between gasps of air, clarified the situation. It seems he had been 'up town' with other posh plumbers, all dressed as nuns. There had been, after many bottles of 'Bolly', a mix up at 'one of those clubs', as he put it, with things getting 'messy'. I didn't ask any more questions at this point, deciding the answers would be unsuitable for the blog ('it's a family show, folks'). Suffice to say, he was having trouble with his saddle. Let that be a lesson and a warning to you all!

Jamie's Garmin navigation took some sorting out!

Lord B left me on Cooden Drive, but I think he overcooked it a bit as I was able to wind him in by Egerton Park and nip to the lights ahead of him. Ha! A very small and petty victory, but I don't care. At the lights, someone mentioned Peter Coach and then also mentioned, in close proximity, but in an unrelated way, the Hatton Garden robbery trial. We then realised that his absence had coincided with the aforementioned event. Was there a connection? No, couldn't be - Peter is in France. But, wait a minute - the gold jewellery, the tanned 'Costa del Sol' features, the minimal presence of any work in his life... Could it be? Nah, that's ludicrous.

Suckers for punishment, Steve Gadget and I escorted a wobbly Lord B back to the Rolls at Cooden, before repeating the ride across the marshes, both of us pleased to be out on the bikes, almost no matter what the conditions. He ran through the gadgets 'onboard' last night. I'd take you through them all, but frankly I lost track after the 'bar-end fore and aft lighting pods'. He has, of course, invested in a new front light that comes equipped with a control switch you can fit anywhere convenient on the bars. I mocked this frippery, of course, but actually that's not a bad idea - no more hands-off-the-bars fiddling, just use your thumb to flick through the lighting modes. Hmmm. See how easy it is to get sucked into gadget-dom? Another warning!

The final event of note last night was a helpful lecture from a taxi driver on the merits of riding side-by-side. He enquired whether we had been taught to ride two-abreast when we did our cycling proficiency. He wasn't interested in hearing the answer, just in repeating his point. We thanked him for his kindly concern for our safety and moved off, grateful for his advice, riding alongside each other just as soon as it was safe to do so.


Safe riding, Neil

29/11 Bob McHardy memorial Audax

Another excellent local audax event to enjoy. This one was in remembrance of well known local super audaxer Bob Mchardy whose untimely death while riding happened just over two years ago. Helping to organise the event was our very own 'Biachi Bomber' Tom Norris who said he would see us at the tea stop

The weather forecast was for very strong winds and fifty mile an hour gusts but myself, Malc C, Malc D, Patrick, Jamie,Andy T and Shirley would not be put off riding it.

Malc tries out the Defy for size!

Due to a broken wheel Malc C would have to ride my Giant Defy while I was glad to be back on my beloved Cannondale  Caad 8 fresh from the bike shop after being treated to a new gear cable and comfy bar tape.

Stepping out of our warm vehicles we were immediately  buffeted by the strong winds and their significant wind chill. Shirley is gradually building up cycle gear but having just purchased a 750 lumens light for the chain-gang her budget could not stretch to cycling tights so she was still wearing shorts (brr!)

A quick giggle before the serious stuff begins!

We set off together at 9:00 but very soon Patrick and Andy pulled away from the rest of us before myself and the two Malcs pulled away from Shirley and Jamie. Malc D is strong enough to ride with Patrick but was feeling tired after his efforts at Saturday's pre BBR/BBR and his dodgy hips were playing up so he was happy to plod round with myself and Malc C.

The initial part of the route had some undulating terrain and it was on one of these hills that we stopped to tighten up Malc D's gear shifter.  This gave Shirley the chance to catch up with us, I told her not to stop , we would soon catch her up, or so I thought.

After sorting out the shifter we moved onto a long descent. Malc C got a bit carried away and despite not having a map or GPS he led the charge, completely oblivious to the right hand turn we were supposed to make. I tried to catch him up to tell him to take the next one instead but he was too far ahead and missed that one as well. Eventually he heard our frantic cries and we cycled back up to the second turn. Unfortunately this is where I suffered our one and only puncture. Now it was Jamie's turn to catch us up and just like Shirley we urged him to keep riding and we would attempt to catch him up.

Heading generally west/south west meant we were heading into a very strong head winds for mile after mile. This didn't bother me at all but our average speed was taking a severe knock. After what seemed like hours we had only ridden thirty miles and were less than half the way round. Heading through Uckfield we had yet another delay when I stupidly changed down the gears while in the big ring causing a complete chain jam. Loosing the rear wheel in the frame was the only way to free it (thanks Malc)

The gps route had made navigation a breeze until we turned right down what felt like someone's private drive. We had to keep close to the left as a number of very expensive cars came past us in the opposite direction . When the road finished with a cluster of nice
looking houses we knew something was wrong . While wandering what to do next a small group of friendly lady cyclists plus Jamie turned up equally confused. Using our collective garmins we tried another lane but a local dog walker grumpily informed us this was also a dead end. There was nothing for it but to go back to the main road and 'shock horror' use our common sense to navigate to  Wivelsfield . We though our new friends would ride with us for a while but they must have gone off and tried yet another lane as they failed to reappear back onto the main road. Malc D is famous for his inbuilt sense of direction but he must have been feeling really tired as he asked me to try to work it out with my garmin. Zooming out I could see that if we headed south west we would eventually be back on route and sure enough after a quick blast on the main road we were back on route.

Malc's frame could be a right off?

An enjoyable steady descent taking us into the village of Ditchling was interrupted when Malc D said something had gone wrong with his front dérailleur . Unfortunately one of the bracket rivets had pulled out of the carbon frame . Malc would now have no choice but to ride on inner chainring for the rest of the route. More serious is the fact that this may not be repairable so Malc's beloved early carbon TCR far, may be a right off!

We knew that the organisers had prepared a tea and cake stop for us somewhere near Clayton. Looking ahead I could see Clayton windmill looming far above us  and hoped that we would not have to ride up to the windmill itself. Fortunately the stop was at the 'natural cemetery' just outside Ditchling. It was disappointing not to see the familiar figure of the B.Bomber but I soon forgot about Tom after munching some marzipan stollen cake and drinking several cups of fresh tea.

the two Malcs prepare to leave the 'natural' cemetery!

leaving the cemetery we were now heading east and so would enjoy the strong westerly wind at our backs for the rest of the ride. The remaining 25 miles were fantastic fun as we first traversed some lovely little lanes around Clayton before heading out on B roads towards Lewes and beyond where we were bowled along at 20+ miles with very little effort except for Malc D who had to keep his little legs spinning frantically in his inner chainring.

We arrived at HQ about ten minutes after Shirley who had ridden brilliantly with an average speed only 1 mph less than ours. Patrick and Andy T were long gone. they had come in before any other riders and used the tail wind to blow themselves all the way back to Hastings.

Many thanks to Tom and the other organisers for a great event. The next available audax is the much harder 'Hills and Mills' http://www.aukweb.net/events/detail/16-77/


Steve C

Saturday Pre-BBR to Beachy and BBR (Pevensey Bay deviation)

If you see these men, please do not approach them - they could be dangerous

In the absence of the illustrious Peter Thingy, I took it upon myself to organise the pre-BBR ride. The appropriate contact numbers came to me from Peter in his wintering grounds in the south of France (he's like a migratory goose - fat from the lush grass of England, ready to be shot and roasted for Christmas Day). The challenge to the hardy Saturday morning crew was to tackle 'Beachy', before racing the wind back to Di Paulos to meet the regular Bacon Butty Run folk at 09:30.

Five of us rolled out from Normans Bay at about 07:50: Adam, Matt S, Joe L, Steve Ferguson and me. It was cold - my garden weather station reported a temperature of just 0.3 degrees - but there was some sunshine to warm us, when the wind wasn't blowing. But, yes, it was cold alright. Joe and I set a rather fast pace to generate some heat. Gasps, groans and cries of 'have mercy' came from the riders behind, especially those with DOMS (Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness, don't you know) from their recent Mallorca exploits. We eased of a little and a decent rotation began. Joe noted my one superstition, that of saluting magpies; better safe than sorry, I say.

Our reward for climbing into the wind was a fantastic view of Eastbourne and beyond, in winter sun'.

The sun grew brighter and the morning became increasingly pleasant, if not that much warmer. The knowledge of what the weather was to become was foremost in our minds as we toiled our way past St Bedes and hauled up Upper Dukes Drive - 'let's make the most of this dry and sunny weather'! The road is at least in the lee of the hill, so we were sheltered from the worst of the wind and cold, turning into the full force of the chilly breeze as we turned steeply towards the Beachy Head Inn. The 'Cannonball' was rolling very nicely on its semi-slick cyclocross wheels and tyres, but not very rapidly, the extra weight requiring noticeably more effort to spin up the hills that my lighter 'chain gang and TT' wheels require.

Somehow, I'm not bothered by this. The effort of the ride is the same or greater as on a lighter bike, but frankly the ride quality is more satisfying. My Strava-addled brain is confused by this; surely, every ride must have a PR? Well, there's a time for speed and a time for training, and I am really enjoying working hard on the bike in more comfort than I have done for some years. I am not yet letting go of my time trial or Strava ambitions, just enjoying a different kind of riding for most of my winter rides. It feels good.

And where have you been Malc -what time do you call this..?

We reconvened in the car park at the top of the hill, catching our breath and refuelling before the fast descent into Eastbourne. Out of nowhere appeared Malc D, like the shop owner in Mr Benn. I politely enquired whither he had been, these past times. He had been late for the start of the ride, so had ridden through Eastbourne to shelter from the wind and catch us up. Chapeau Malc, canny riding!

Our ride through Eastbourne and across the marshes to Bexhill was wind-powered, but not excessively so, the stronger winds due later that day. Nevertheless, we made good time to the cafe, arriving to find Colonel Parker locking his bike to the railings and a couple of other riders huddled inside for warmth. Steve and I discussed the pronunciation of 'latte' with the chief Di Paulos' Barista. Steve was keen on saying 'latte' to rhyme with 'fartay'; the Barista corrected this to 'latte' to rhyme with 'flatay'. Steve began to argue the toss; I reminded Steve that this guy knows his business and doesn't turn up on a wiring job to tell him how to do a plug. Steve looked confused, spluttering 'Plugs! I don't wire plugs, matey!' Well, that was me told.

At this point, we bade farewell to Steve, Matt, Joe and Adam (all heading off to family commitments of some sort), and said hello to The Colonel, Fabien, Finlay and Kerry. Malc D and I remained the stalwarts from the earlier ride, but it was Finlay who set the early pace along Bexhill sea front and to Little Common. The head wind was tough going for him and Fabien, but they come into their own on the hills or when the wind drops. We hacked onward through Whydown to the turn at Tanyards Fruit Farm, rolling at a reasonable pace to Kiln Lane, before riding down the semi-offroad track that leads to The Lamb and Wartling.

Now, this is really why I'd kept the cyclocross tyres on! I reckoned they would give a more comfortable and secure ride on the fast, rough descent to Horsebridge, and so it proved. The cantilever brakes ease on smoothly, rather than grabbing, and the forks and frame absorb the bumps and humps effectively, keeping the wheels in contact with the road more. I felt all 'rufty-tufty' as I rode down the hill, out of the saddle and ducking under the brambles.

The road was flooded in places and the potholes are already worsening, after not that much rain. But the short stretch from the bridge to the foot of Jacob's Ladder was glorious, with shelter from the worst of the wind and sunshine filtering through the branches. I disturbed a flock of Redwings and raced them along the lane, and then saw three Jays scatter from the bushes to the right. I've never seen more than two in one place before, so this struck me as very unusual.

We drew breath in the car park of The Lamb, as is traditional. Col Parker revised the route away from Chilley Farm towards the delights of Pevensey Bay, via Westham. Malc and I were to head on and regroup at the turn after Lime Cross Nursery, but Finlay and Fabien were not far behind us at The Bull, so we waited for them so they did not have to ride alone on the main road. We put them in front of us and bashed on into the wind, the boys making a strong effort up the two bumps on this section and in quite tough conditions.

The stretch of road from Cricketing Green to Rickney Marsh Farm has (mostly) been resurfaced, and not before time. Gone is the "Crack of Doom' into which Peter and other riders have fallen in recent months, and gone also are numerous other chasms and clefts. The tarmac is now relatively smooth, although (sorry to be picky) I did think the edges of the road looked irregular, and that could lead to accelerated wear in bad weather. Not that I am moaning!

Malc and I again rode with the boys, putting them on the front when we reached the main road to Pevensey, giving them some encouragement to ride at pace, now they had the wind behind them. Mistake. Their young legs span faster than ours and they sprinted off, with the two of us trying to accelerate to catch them. We were halfway to Pevensey before we did; we gave them a lecture about respecting their elders whilst we waited at the traffic lights (and secretly admired their abilities).

We reached the packed cafe at Pevensey about 30 minutes later than if we'd ridden to Chilley Farm. We grabbed the only remaining table and were served quickly, I thought, as I scoffed a fruit scone to repel a bad dose of the 'sugar shakes'. It made a pleasant change to vary the route a little. The Pevensey option is also a warmer one, with indoor as well as outdoor seating.

The BBR remains a great introductory ride for new riders, with a mix of just about every sort of condition you might expect during a local rider (or even sportives further-afield), but at a gentler pace and with lots of advice and support (if you want it). If you want to go faster, you can - there is often a rider or two who will keep you company if you want to push yourself. But this is a social ride, with a cafe at the start and the end in which to chat with other riders, share experience and perhaps arrange rides of your own. The pre-BBR is usually more challenging, taking in Beachy head or a flatter but faster route around the marshes (and on 20th December, a ride to Brighton).

I headed off early, but I was not finished riding for the day. I had hoped to take daughter no.4 on the BBR, as she is keen to take up cycling, but she wanted first to get to grips with drop-bars and combined levers. By the time we got out the house, it was getting dark and the wind was blowing hard. I was not sure it was a good idea, but daughter no.4 was keen to get out on the bike (an Ebay bargain). I led her out on the first leg, into the blustery wind and patchy rain. She hung on gamely, but like the lads in the morning, her light weight made progress difficult.

I hauled her along Herbrand Walk (cruel father!) to Normans Bay, as the rain increased and the wind gusted more strongly. 'If you can ride along Herbrand in these conditions, you can ride anywhere locally', I told her in an encouraging tone. 'Yeah' was the laconic response. 'Now we have the pleasure of being blown home - you're going to enjoy this'! No comment.

Then, just like the boys on the morning ride, she pelted off at high speed, with me hanging on her back wheel. Very impressive leg speed - wow! I think my knees and ankles would fly off at that cadence, or suddenly jam solid and explode. Her speed peaked at about 42kph (26mph), albeit with a gale pushing her along, but she loved the feeling of going fast on a bike. Somehow, the experience has not put her off riding and I hope to get her on a BBR before Christmas.

Safe riding, Neil