Chain Gang - Part Deux

"Death by asphyxiation and the birth of Jedwood'

"So are you trying to look ridiculous, on purpose, now?", said Vicki as she scrutinised me from the kitchen while sipping from a glass of chilled 'Oyster Bay'.
"To what are you referring?", I replied, as I stood in my normal position; posed in front of the full-length hall mirror.
"That thing on your head!", she said.
I had already decided that the red, under-helmet skull cap was more 'Max Wall' than I had anticipated when ordering it.  I playfully experimented by adding my Oakley 'Racing jacket' shades (more about these later)
 to the look - now definitely more bog snorkeller than cyclist.  I had already worked out for myself that there is nothing 'cool' about this item, whatsoever and had been perfecting a method of removing it at the same time as the helmet; thus avoiding anybody seeing it.  This involved inserting both thumbs under the cover and the helmet, and swiftly pushing upwards (I had tried the reverse action to put helmet and cover on together by turning the helmet over, lining it with the cover and then, with thumbs holding both items, slam down on head as quick as possible - this I decided could lead to mild concussion so have abandoned the idea.)

Vicki has never been keen on cycling apparel - to say the very least, and has decided that everyone, especially me, looks a complete wally in Lycra - unless they are a professional cyclist and wear it for a living. The first time I donned a pair of sub-entry level, Lycra shorts and tried to leave the house, I was caught in the act by Vicki who said :"And where do you think you are going dressed like that?", "I thought I might try cycling to Pevensey Bay and back" was my meek reply. "You really ought to put another pair of shorts over those ones". To avoid any argument I duly obliged.  This is quite 'rich' considering that during my five years with The Longman Morris Dancers ( I retired following an Achilles injury, but I don't like to brag about this.) she had regularly seen me 'jingling' my way down the front path wearing buckled breeches, baldrics, silk top hat, bells and an earing in the shape of 'The Longman'.  When I quizzed her about this she said that Lycra was a much worse look.  This surprised me , because, athough as a Morris dancer I readily accepted that, hierarchically, I was a peg, or two, below 'Village Idiot', as a MAMIL, although not high in status, I did believe I had moved slightly up 'the ladder'.

Whilst continuing my pre-chain gang preening session I gave some consideration to other apparel and accessories that ( in my opinion) constitue a feux pas, or should simply be avoided at all costs. Several items can be grouped together under the heading:

S & M Derivatives

(Incidentally, at my age I am much more interested in M&Ms than S&M.)

HRMs

Or, as older cyclists refer to them - 'moob holders'.
Useful piece of equipment you might say! - I quite agree, but the very action of putting them on puts me in mind of a front loading bra - slide to the side, attach clip and swing to the front. I am surprised that Garmin, or Polar, haven't 'cottoned-on' to the S&M potential and introduced a 'peep-hole' version, or a strap-free, 'clamp on' version (with adjustable torque settings.)

'Hip-Lock' Cycle Security Device

Basically a massive chain and pad-lock, worn on the hips - pure dungeon!

Arm and Leg warmers.

No problem, providing flesh is prevented from showing between arm warmer and jersey or leg warmer and shorts.  On a commute along Sluice Road, a couple of months ago, I felt a cold chill on my limbs and looked down to find I had a 'full house' of large gaps between both arm and both leg warmers!.  Oh, the embarrassment!.  I considered my options: steer myself directly into the path of the next on-coming vehicle or dive under the next Hawthorn bush! ( I settled for a dismount and discreet adjustment.)

Neoprene Bootees

Do I really need to say anything? (other than that I own a pair.)

String Vests (base layer)

Looks good with a Freddie Mercury type mustache.

Leggings

All lengths - with, or without built-in cod-piece, and including bib type.

 If anyone has any doubts about the S&M link I challenge them to stand, bare-chested (female cyclists may not wish to partake in this), in front of a mirror wearing all the above items (choose between shorts and leg warmers, or leggings), also, try adding full-face balaclava!

Oakley Racing Jacket Sunglasses.

Oakley, as I'm sure everyone would agree, are the coolest company on the planet, making the coolest products - even their new headquarters in Orange County, California makes The Bilbao Guggenheim look pedestrian!.  So how did 'Racing Jacket' sunglasses get past the style gurus at Oakley? There is no doubt in my mind that if the Oakley had been founded in the days of 'The Emperor's New Clothes' the eponymous emperor would have paraded past two 'high-fiveing' salesman, totally naked aside from a pair of gold-plated 'Racing Jacket' shades. Don't get me wrong I have a pair and love them like a son.  It's just that everyone looks such a 'knob' in them.  Matt Schubert once said to me, over coffee: " I bought a fake pair of those (nodding at mine), off ebay, exactly the same as yours- only £12!.  I tried them on and thought "I look a right bell-end" - couldn't even give them away!". Mine are the real thing - I wish to add.

I bought mine at Gatwick Airport on the way to Majorca.  Vicki turned her back for a minute; whilst checking out the designer shades in the duty free, and I seized the opportunity to try a pair on.  I asked what she thought and her reply (unsurprisingly) was: "You look like a pillock, but I suppose they're good for cycling in?". "Essential eye wear if one is serious about safety" , I replied.  I parted with some major 'wedge' (duty free prices - my a*se!) and left the shop.

Having a bit of time to 'kill', I wandered into WHS to pick up a cycling magazine for the flight.  This was when my life started to have real meaning - on the cover of Cycling Weekly was Chris Froome wearing the same white, shades, as me!!.  I slung some money at the sales assistant and rushed off to find Vicki to tell her my great news.  "Now take deep breaths and try to tell me clearly why you are so excited".  " Chris Froome is... i n...o u t...wearing...i n.. o u t... the same shades...i n...o u t...more slowly... as me!!".  Don't you mean you are wearing the same glasses as Chris Froome, she corrected". "Be honest, did you see the magazine and then buy the glasses?", "No,no,no, I protested!".. It was futile; she would never believe me - and still doesn't, that I bought bought those glasses first! (incidentally, he also a looks a complete twat)".

The best thing about my Oakleys is that a large toy box and an emergency 'swipe is included (Oakley insist on calling them a hard and soft carry case.)  The toy box is very educational, because when you consider that there are 3 pairs of inter-changeable lenses, which have 4 'corners' and a back and front; there are more combinations than a rubick's cube!.  I have yet to successfully change my lenses first time.

Dressing the Same as Your Mate.

For heavens sake, get a grip!.  Thin end of the wedge if you ask me.  What is this likely to lead to?; pre-arranged trips to Primark to buy matching 'Onesies'?; sharing a crab starter at the next HSLCC social?

If you wonder where the cynicism comes from , let me explain....

From shortly after birth, until long after puberty, my mother insisted on dressing me and my, slightly older brother Graham, in the same outfits.  This consisted of grey shorts  (in a kind of serge material), grey socks, white shirt and a hand-knitted, mustard coloured jumper with a white hoop across the chest. On 'posh' days out i.e to our nans, or to the doctors, the jumper could be swapped for our school blazer.

Good To See Nigel T Back On The Chain !

I don't know what kind of material these jumpers were created from - definitely not wool,any other natural or man made material.  I truly believe my mother had woven them from a substance that had not yet found it's way onto the Periodic Table.  The reason I am saying this is because, just in ordinary movement, with arms swinging by the side of the body, they generated astonishing amounts of static electricity!.  So great was the static that if we hadn't taken preventative action we would have effectively been straight-jacketed - with our arms stuck to our bodies.. To circumvent this my brother and I realised that, as the day wore on, we had to keep our arms away from our bodies.  Up until lunchtime an angle of 20 degrees was sufficient - although the problem was that when holding your arms away from your body the tendency is to flair the wrists.  This creates a very 'camp' effect.  To counter this we decided we had to take large strides - small steps with arms at 20 degres just exacerbated the problem.  We had no choice but to 'Cleese Step' our way around the playground.  Mid-afternoon we were at 45 degrees; not so camp, more the look of someone who has just stepped out of the shower, and is feeling really chilled, or someone who is a bit 'muscle bound' - not likely in our case!.  Tea-time and we were now full-blown crucifixes - this required that we moved sideways through door ways and ate from a trough!.  If you're wondering why our parents didn't intervene, I think it was because they assumed we just liked to play at being 'fighter pilots'.  If you think this is bad - bed time was much, much worse.  The problem was that we were growing, but the mustard jumpers weren't growing at the same rate - it dawned on me that we were slowly being asphyxiated!  The main objective was to remove the items without slicing off our ears.  As the article slipped over our mouths it removed the saliva so effectively from our top teeth that our top lips stuck to them and we grinned like Chipmonks. After much tugging they would eventually 'twang' off over our head.  The result of this additional burst of static was that it would leave our hair sticking up - similar to the effect achieved in the class room when placing your hand on a van der graaph generator!  The sad thing is that my mother was blissfully unaware of the the money making opportunity she had failed to capitilise on: lying in the next room to them were the fore-runner of 'Jedwood'!

Oh, dear! - I seem to have been tangent-ed myself away from last night's Chain Gang.  Only have enough time now to confirm the result:

1st Place - The Super-Fasts - 10 points
2nd Place - The Wannabees - 5 points
Last Place - The Chuggers - nil point.

Better luck next week Chuggers!

Constructers Championship

1st Place - Giant
2nd Place - Giant
3rd Place - Giant

Peter Buss

Wednesday Chain Gang - War and Peace

Another wet and windy Wednesday, another chain gang and another good turn out – 21 riders lured by the lull in the rain and in denial about just how bloody cold it was. The wind was a nice performance aid when following, but a bitter cold steel knife that cut to the bone when standing still or riding towards Pevensey. I just wanted to get going to warm up, then enjoy surfing the wind back to Bexhill

We set off as two groups, or at least that was the plan. There was a clump of 10 or so super-fasts that set off more or less together, followed by an indeterminate string of riders that was neither ‘Arthur nor Martha’. Anyhow, we sorted ourselves into a middling group of 7 or so riders, but I think the tone was set in those first few minutes – for the rider wanting the purist chain-gang experience there was frustration as well as satisfaction last night, and a bit of drama too.

Our intentions were honest and earnest: to ride as a group, rotating the front, taking our turns as much as we were able and communicating our intentions to each other. Well, none of us is perfect, and soon our ideals met with the sour crab apple of reality. It started well enough with each rider performing well in the group.  Paul Baxter showed great attitude after the lambasting of last week, staying with the group and trying hard to ride to the high expectations of the more vocal riders, if not yet quite getting the hang of easing off when taking the front. Chapeau Mr Baxter, chapeau!

The pace rose on the marsh stretches and so with it rose the challenge of keeping a smooth rotation. As the required effort increased, not everyone was able to make it down the outside and take the front, but getting this message through to the front and middle of the group was not easy. This was clearly frustrating for some and confusing for others, but understandable if you were near enough to the last rider to know they needed a rest

The Original 'Men In Black'!

But a good pace was maintained, even if it was not ridden smoothly. I’m not sure what happened next, but somewhere toward the end of the outward leg there were words. Harsh words. Words you would not use if Granny were in the room.  One very naughty word indeed. My blushes were lost in the darkness and I instinctively hunched over, ducking to avoid the flaming tirade. Blimey, that was a bit strong – steady does it!

A sort of hush and forced politeness fell over the group and we made it to the turn without further incident. I did a lap of the roundabout and rode into the layby, the protagonists in the exchange engaged in conversation. I think there was a misunderstanding. I think also there was something in the stars last night – we all seemed rather pumped up and on a short fuse. Perhaps Mars was in Venus, or Saturn was in Uranus, but I thought the expectations of a very mixed group were higher than most could live up to. Happily, kinder words were spoken, explanations made, hands shaken and water bottles drunk from as we waited for the later arrivals.

The return leg is always more freeform, and so it was last night. I abandoned again any idea of riding with the super-fasts and instead rode with a group of four – Simon G, I think John S and another – across the marshes, picking up Ivan along the way and making good time with the west wind at our backs. Some bloke with a beard was in a gateway and he too joined us, to be revealed as John V, clearly just returned from an expedition to somewhere colder than the south coast. It transpired that he had been late leaving home and had ridden like fury to join the gang, ruining his legs in the process (nicely shaved this week John, unlike your chin).

This motley crew rumbled on, catching and carrying Mr B nearer Cooden, becoming quite a rapid mini-peloton as we saluted the club president on Cooden Drive. Onward we swept, past the chequered board, propelled by the wind and the adrenaline of the ride toward the lights. A few of us broke away to make a final fast arrival, enjoying the buzz of riding at full-throttle.

I rode back to Cooden and then Normans Bay with Stewart B (note spelling this week matey) and Peter ‘Potty-Mouth’ Buss. We discussed some of the random followers we seem to get on Strava. Peter collects all the totty; I get hairy blokes. Life is unfair but I guess it’s mostly about how we deal with the disappointments and disagreements that matters more (shut the **** up Neil, you patronising %£$@%!).

As is my habit, after bidding Peter a good night, I rode up Spooky Hill to Rock Cottage, into that sharp cold wind, before turning to pelt downhill and ride hard with the wind behind me, back to town. It was a beautiful night. The clear sky was full of stars, with the moon over half full and shining a cool silver light that made the night feel colder, gleaming on the bike’s salty-white tyres. Jupiter shone to the east of the moon and the Plough made crooked progress across the furrowed firmament. Life felt good, as it so often does after a chain gang ride, but I was also cold. I realised that I was not really sweating. Time for the well-earned warmth of home and a hot dinner!

Regards, Neil

24/1 Audax Hills And Mills- Derek And The Tri Athletes Report

I had arranged for 2 of my triathlon mates to ride this one again as they joined me last year. we tried to hang on to Steves group but they were gradually pulling away from us so we settled in to our own pace.
We were a bit tired having done 4 swim sessions this week totalling 7.5 kilometres. We were about 20 k in when Roy got a puncture . This turned out to be a large  piece of flint which made a hole in the tyre so we had to cut up the old tube to patch up the hole. We knew we were unlikely to see rest of group again that day. i had forgotten that kidds hill was in this one until one of the others reminded me. I have been up this 4 times before and have only got up it once so was dreading it but to my surprise made it again and passed 2 people who had got off to push. Did anyone go through the ford instead of taking the bridge ?
This is a hard route and was pleased to eventually finish, biggest problem on this one is the amount of Chelsea tractors you come across and have to queeze past.
Was surprised to find only Malc back at the start but later heard what had happened . Wish Lee a speedy recovery.

24/1- Audax Hills And Mills Does Not End Well For Lee

Despite a chilly forecast of just above freezing temperatures and cold winds we had a decent turnout again for the annual 'Hills And Mills' audax, There were 6 HSLCC riders plus two of Derek's tri athlete pals This is a tough 63 mile audax that winds its way through Ashdown forest and takes in the legendary  Kidds hill (the wall).

I was riding my trusty Cannondale CAAD 8 but unfortunately the rim on  my rear mavic open pro had got dangerously thin, so was riding the original and much heavier rear wheel the bike came with. I could feel the difference straight away, the ride definitely felt more sluggish, I was worried that I was going to suffer even more than last year!

For the first five miles while our muscles warmed up , we all rode together. Despite the low air temperature, the lovely sunshine lifted our spirits, maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all?  Gradually we pulled away from Derek's triathlete group and settled into a steady rhythm with myself and John S happy to stay in the others slip stream.

Part of the requirement of audax rides is that to prove you have done the complete route you have to answer certain questions along the way. One of these questions was, 'what material is the door made of'  (not surprisingly it turned out to be wood)?. While the others were pondering this important question I slipped away from them assuming they would soon catch me up. Before long Malc and Tom has set off after me in pursuit and being more daring on a steep decent soon managed to get past me . I managed to stay with them for a few miles as the terrain became increasingly lumpy , but it wasn't long before I was on my own . I didn't mind as I knew JV, Lee and Jon couldn't be far behind. Sure enough JV's group soon reeled me back in but we were not to see Malc or Tom again until the ride was over.

At roughly the half way point we entered the western slope of Kidds hill (the wall). Just like last year we rode half way up its western flank only to be led down a cut through to the bottom of the eastern and steeper side where we had to begin all the climbing again. Having stepped up my training the previous two weeks and having rested my legs all week, I was feeling good and the climb seemed easier to me than ever before although Strava informed me it was only my second best time.

Steve was Well prepared For Kidd's Hill this Time!

From the top of Kidd's hill its mainly downhill riding for the next ten miles and feeling good and being a good stone heavier than any of the others, gravity was on my side and just riding at my own pace I kept dropping the guys, waiting for them to catch me up before riding off again.Despite my replacement wheel being heavy it was giving me a lovely comfortable ride and was bearing up to the potholes admirably , so I made a mental note to stop bidding for any more second-hand wheel bargains on Ebay!

This came to an end when for some reason my gps directed me down a  steep hill on the left while the others kept to the main road and shouted out to me that I was going the wrong way. By the time I got back to the main road they were no where in sight, but I assumed they must have taken the next turn on the left. This lead down a narrow twisty road. As I came round one of the blind bends a shocking sight awaited me . There was lee stood upright holding his arm while Jon was in a deep ditch with JV trying to pull him out. In front of all this was a gleaming red Rolls Royce with a perplexed very elderly gentleman who seemed in shock.

This is what happened!!

Jon And JV felt Lucky To Emerge Unscathed.......

 The guys had come round the blind bend to be confronted by the Rolls Royce in the middle of the road (unavoidable as the road was only wide enough for one vehicle). To avoid hitting the car, lee had no choice but to slam on the anchors. He did manage to avoid striking the car but the subsequent skid caused him to come off and hit the road hard on one side. Meanwhile JV with the benefit of disc brakes (who was behind lee) had managed to get around the Rolls completely unscathed. Jon however was on a direct collision course with Lee and had no choice but to veer right onto a muddy verge. As soon as his front wheel hit the deep mud the whole bike tipped forward and dumped him unceremoniously into a two foot deep ditch with his  feet still attached to the bike.
Miraculously Jon had escaped with nothing more than a few bruises and a damaged mud guard. Lee however was not so lucky and the way he was holding his arm it looked like his wrist had broken.

...but Lee was Not So Fortunate!

A local couple who lived in the house that the rolls owner had been visiting (Conservative party fund raiser event) kindly took us into his home and phoned an ambulance for Lee. While we waited for the ambulance they kept us fed and watered with pate and salmon wafers and cups of tea. The ambulance man confirmed Lee had broken his wrist and that they were taking him to the nearest hospital for an xray.

After wishing lee all the best, thanking the locals for their kindness and arranging to pick up lee's bike later, we set off again. Jon was a bit sore but not too bad, although by now it had got considerably colder and none of us were in the mood for any more chances around the twisty country lanes. The last 15 miles seemed to take as long as the first 45 and it was a relief to reach the end with both my front light and gps flashing warnings about imminent battery death.

Sadly , we heard from Lee the bad news that his wrist was badly broken and would require plates to be fitted in an operation mid week. We all wish Lee a speedy recovery and hope this hasn't put him off the 'joys' of audaxing.

Steve C

Tough Profile! 

Chain Gang Bling Special with guest edits by Gok Wan

We are still getting a good attendance for mid-winter rides in cold weather. It is a source of amusement and bemusement to me that 17 apparently sane people (well, most of them) will turn up for a fast training ride in the cold and dark. But turn up we do!

It’s my birthday soon, so I’ve been purchasing a few pre-birthday treats for my bike, some tasteful accessories with which to make my stylish ride even more beautiful. Tasty morsels of bike-bling arrived in time for the chain gang. Lightweight skewers finished in anodised red, saving 60 grams; a new multi-tool that saves a further 50 grams; and red handlebar bungs and anodised valve caps surely saved a few grams more. Huge weight savings and awesome looks – what’s not to like? I would surely be unstoppable!

So, what do I find at the start but Stuart Buckland’s bike sporting the SAME valve caps as mine! So embarrassing, I mean, he could have called me. The humiliation - it was like turning up to a party in the same frock. Just poor form Stuart. But as we shall see, this callous young man was not in the mood to conform last night.  And what IS that you wear under your helmet anyway?

We decided to ride as one group. That lasted approximately 5 seconds as 8 super-fast riders made off at a rapid lick with the help of a nice following wind. The rest of us were then caught outside the De La Warr by some temporary traffic lights. That breeze was too much for some to handle and one individual (name withheld) went straight through the lights, seemingly unaware of the need to comply with traffic laws. I detect a growing dissident element in the club. First, there were Simon G’s ‘loop rebels’, now this.  Something Must Be Done!

Well, thankfully some sort of order was restored as we rode along Bexhill seafront, two-abreast, at a fair pace. Simon G rode up the outside to signal the need to rotate the front and get the chain gang proper rolling, and so a fluid group of 7 to 9 riders rode with discipline along Cooden Drive and Herbrand, our rhythm interrupted by more traffic than usual, I thought, and by the lights at the level crossing. Thankfully, non-one ignored these particular lights and we were soon on our way again, reforming into a purposeful team. The communication was particularly good and I think this makes all the difference – calling people in at the front, calling last man and generally letting each other know what we are doing.

We rode past the Star Inn along roads that were wetter than I expected, spray splattering my face and ruining my mascara. We grunted up Spooky Hill and down the other side, then went right at the first bend to clearly see a car coming towards us as we headed toward the sharper left bend by the nature reserve. From nowhere came a gentleman on a racing bicycle that had not been with the group earlier, ripping down the outside, making us suddenly three-abreast. There was not time to shout curses, just time to react and make safe, the offending person speeding off the front of the group. As a whole, I do not think we were impressed with his antics but we settled down and pushed on towards the lay-by.

We had warmed up nicely, so no one wanted to hang around to get cold. We turned back promptly for Bexhill, into a gentle but noticeable wind. I was sensible, for once, and didn’t try to stay with the super-fasts, but instead pulled in ahead of Simon G. John V and John M soon joined us, forming a tight and efficient group that rode across the marsh at a good pace into the cold east wind. I think we saw Ivan ahead on the downhill side of Spooky, unusually having dropped off the faster group's pace. We soon hoovered him up into the group and the five of us worked well together all the way back, enjoying a really good group ride.

But as I am in the mood to make comments on style and fashion, I simply must tell you, Ivan, that wearing knee-length ski socks on the outside of your cycling longs is not the done thing – it’s so 2014! This season the well-dressed cyclist is wearing his ski socks inside his longs. Similarly, John V, what ARE you doing in three-quarter length shorts when the temperature is 2 degrees and, more to the point, with hairy legs on show?  Cover up or wax! However, I did approve of Peter B’s tasteful see-through gilet, pulled tight over his rippling torso, accentuating his finely chiselled features and honed abs. He looked heroic in a Burt Lancaster kind of way – dimpled chin, a far away gaze in his twinkling blue eyes as he remembered beating Wiggo up the Col de Madeleine. Peter paid me to say that, but maybe not enough!

At the lights, we had a friendly discussion with Mr B (for it was he) about the merits of overtaking three-abreast into a tight corner with a car coming the other way, and group riding more generally. I think and hope it was taken in the spirit is was intended. As ever, riding with the chain is a great way of improving fitness - working hard down the outside of the group to do a turn at the front - then enjoying less pressure until it’s time to go down the outside again. It works!

Anyhow, upgrading / adding some tat / pimping my ride (delete as applicable) reminded me of my first proper bike, aged 11. It was bright red (good start) but my grandparents, who were funding the purchase, insisted that I have something ‘sensible’ with Sturmey Archer 3-speed gears. So, it came with straight handlebars with white plastic grips with finger-ridges, a red steel chain-guard and mudguards, chromed rims and white tyres, gold pin striping and chrome additions. Nice to look at if your were 75 years old, but not if you want some wannabe racer street-cred. It was the bike my grandfather wanted as a young man but never had! But it was that or nothing, so I was (sort of) grateful.

I immediately planned some tasteful upgrades, to be applied once a safe period had passed and I could argue that ‘the grips have worn out’ or that the ‘mudguards have rusted through’ (the same strategy is still at work…). Fat chance! They were thick enough to armour a tank! Several years passed…  No-one would ride with me, not helped by rear-ending a mate on a ‘proper’ racer (the brakes were crap on my bike) and buckling his rear rim, as it were.

I was limited to one simple but misplaced improvement. I was convinced that the secret of going faster was to oil the chain. Logically, the more oil that was applied the faster I would go. I got through a can of 3 in 1 oil every two months. My Dad was mystified as to where all his oil was going.

So, the first enhancement was obviously a pair of luminous green handlebar grips. The fact that these clashed horribly with the bike’s colour scheme passed me by – they looked fabulous in the shop so would surely look fabulous on the bike. Whilst I was at it, I turned the handlebars through 90 degrees so that I had cow-horn bars. I let this radical change settle. I got away with it so I took off the chain guard, taking a pound of weight off the bike. I got away with this too. Result!

The next big step was to remove the mudguards (with a blow-torch and lifting gear). Opposition was met from an unexpected quarter. My mum was furious as she saw only that this change would generate more washing from wet and muddy clothing. I weathered the storm, scowling and grunting around the house as teenage boys do, fitting a black tyre with a knobblier tread paid for with money earned from gardening jobs.

I rode my now pretty cool looking bike for miles, visiting friends in the villages around Cheltenham, nipping into town, spending the day exploring country lanes. I fitted a milometer that attached behind the washer on the front axle, the miles measured as a pin on the spokes knocked a little wheel on the side of the unit. I don’t suppose it was very accurate, but it was the Garmin of its day, only a lot cheaper and frankly, with hindsight, crap. Dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink every wheel revolution... Arrrgh! Worse than Tom's bottom-bracket or John M's squeeky whatevers!

The look of the bike was transformed into a mean, clean cycling machine - oh yeeeaaaahhhh baby. Thinking back, I realise that I had actually invented the mountain bike. I rode it up and down the steep ‘whoops’ in the woods of the local park. These were like bomb craters - steep-sided, muddy pits that you had to shoot down as fast as possible in order to make it up the other side. I met some American kid there one day, I think his name was Gary Fisher or something, I think he stole my idea…

I had that bike for what felt like forever but was about six years. Then my Dad bought me a 70cc Honda step-through, starting my love affair with those other wondrous two-wheeled devices, motorcycles. My Dad used my pushbike on and off, but complained that the chain got oil on his trousers and the wheels sprayed him with water…  Sorry Dad! Best ride was 68 miles (measured off a map and not the crappy milometer) to the Forest and back.

See you next week, chain-gangers!  Neil

Bacon Butty thaws out Saturday 17 January 2015

Sunglasses Were Not A Good Choice For This Weather!

After the last two times of fighting up Galley Hill against very strong head winds gusting to cause me to veer off the tarmac on to the grass it was a change to ride on the grass at 09:15 to keep clear of sheet ice at the bottom of the hill, water run off from the grass have frozen solid. Would anyone else join me for a coffee in Di Paolo's on a freezing but bright morning? As I locked up my bike Gary L appeared. We have had the odd email exchange going back many years and I had heard that he had recently joined a few Harrow runs plus a Pre BBR so it was great to meet him at last. More turned up so it was six of us setting off at 10:00, no one having done the Pre BBR on a freezing morning. Soon it was apparent that I was off the pace on my touring bike, probably due to the tickly throat of the previous few days meaning I was a bit off colour rather than just plain unfit, but ……. We had to be very careful on the lanes, in places there was running water and no ice and elsewhere the puddles were frozen and ice across the road. As I pulled up Boreham Street Hill a rider in Sky kit shot past me, it looked like Steve D. As the reassembly point by the garage just short of the Bulls Head the others confirmed it had been Steve D who had ridden past them too, doing his own thing. We decided not to use the lane direct to The Lamb Wartling, due to the possibility of more ice, and stuck to the Ninfield TT course. As I approached The Lamb trailing behind everyone else Steve D appeared and then offered to pace me across the marsh to Pevensey roundabout. He set just the right pace which had me hanging on, just. About three quarters of the way across the marsh I called for a slight easing of the pace, but when ended up talking rather than push on with me at my comfortable maximum. So many thanks Steve D for dragging me along a fair bit faster than I would have solo, a bonus for those not having to wait so long for me to catch them up at Pevensey roundabout. The forecast rain clouds were gathering. We took the longer route via the Eastbourne Crem (almost) roundabout and on to a rather busy Pevensey Bakery. Peter B picked up a text from Steve C to say it was icy so he was not coming out. Peter sent a suitable reply advising Steve he could wear his blouse all weekend. It had started raining as we breakfasted and who appeared at the door a bit sodden, but not wearing a blouse? Yes it was Steve C who early in the morning had seen ice in the garden but an hour later had decided it had warmed up a bit so set off on a mad dash directly to the cafe. I had hoped for a more leisurely second cup of coffee so the band of heavy rain could pass over but others were keen to set off. The worst of the rain had passed but we got fairly wet on the way back and could ride down Galley Hill with no fear since the sheet ice had long gone.

Chris P

16/1 Kie's Eight Week Penance

With ice on some of the car windscreens but puddles still liquid it must have been just one or two degrees above zero for the start of the Friday night ride. I felt unusually cold but then realised I had forgotten to put my vest on. Amazing what a difference thin piece of synthetic material makes, as without it I was to feel cold for the whole ride . We only had an average turnout of six riders but three of these were notable as they were returning from absence. Duncan was there on his new Wilier having had some time away on holiday, Alex was back riding after injuring his shoulder a few weeks ago in the icy weather and then there was Kie! Kie had grown a beard since the last time I saw him so for a moment I thought he was a new rider. Turns out that he hasn't touched his bike for eight weeks due to work pressures, Kie was soon to pay a high price for his lack of training!

Duncan Shows Off His Lovely New Wilier!

Without any wind, it was cold but easy riding into the Rye before the start of the Broad Oak drag. As usual everyone went at their own pace and it wasn't long before I was at the back of the pack , but this time I had kie for company. For a while we worked together as a pair but once I got into my normal rhythm I soon left him behind and before long I was with the others at broad Oak. Most improved rider award must go to Nigel F as he got there long before me whereas last time we rode together it was me that waited for him.

While waiting for Kie we had time to discuss our route options. JV had warned us earlier in the day that the river Brede had flooded the valley road leaving it twelve inches deep in water. Would we be able to get through or should we go back via Sedlescombe? Nobody really wanted to go down unfamiliar roads in the dark and cold , while Malc predicted that due to the tides there was a good chance that the water would have retreated. We decided to ride down and have a look,

The Bearded Kie Would Not Be Smiling Later!

It turned out , Malc was right, the flood waters were gone so we rode down and up the valley with no problems at all. We had discussed  missing out  Stonestile and sticking to the main road home but the lack of flood water convinced us to stick to the normal Stonestile route instead.

Kie was now really suffering, his out of condition leg muscles had had enough. He urged us to go on without him but his main light had died, leaving him with just a small emergency back up front light that was more suitable to riding to the local store than cold dark night riding in the middle of nowhere. We convinced him to stay with us and pressed on towards Westfield.

On reaching the junction of the Westfield main road I realised there was no sign of Kie. I shouted out a message to Nigel F that I would go back for Kie. It was clear that he was now on the point of stopping altogether, riding slower than Bradley Wiggins down a wet descent, and had decided to ring his missus for a lift. I didn't think this was such a good idea as he could be waiting in the cold dark and damp for some time whereas if he just kept going he would be onto the ridge in just three miles (I didn't think it was a good idea to mention there was the little bump of stonestile in the way)

Having myself and Nigel for company seemed to give Kie a psychological boost and all went well until we reached the slopes of Stonestile. Poor Kie had no choice but had to do 'the walk of shame' up this ascent. I don't think Kie will take such a long break from training ever again, LOL!

Chain Gang Goes Loopy – It’s Official

Well, we were again warned well in advance and again they – the weather bods – were right. Strong winds for Wednesday! But as the day itself wore, on the forecast wind strength dropped and the feared arrival of a crescendo of rain and wind moved further into the night. If we could just get out and back home before 9pm…

Riding south to the sea front down Sackville Road was ‘interesting’, especially near the roundabout. The ride east to Galley Hill was also ‘interesting’ with the wind veering and spinning off the buildings and out of the side roads. In truth, not the worst wind I’ve ridden in but nevertheless conditions were, well, ‘interesting’. In all, 14 other intrepid cyclonauts gathered, looking rather dazed by their ride to the start.

Just how bad do conditions have to be before we say ‘nah, staying in tonight’? I can barely bring myself to write it, let alone do it! ‘Addicts’ say some; ‘madmen’ say others (wives, kids, relatives, non-cycling friends, bosses, psychiatrists, the Daily Mail – the list goes on…  They’re all wrong! They know nothing, NOTHING!! We want the challenge, the fresh air, the exercise, the banter and the thrill surviving a ride on a grotty winter’s night. You can’t get that from the telly.

Well, some good sense prevailed. Chris proposed riding circuits around a 5km loop in Cooden, rather than risking the dark, damp and potentially dangerous lanes of the marshes. To this we all agreed, or so I thought! However, it appears some were paying more attention than others to what the club secretary had to say

Off we rode, two abreast, the quite wonderful Stuart Hodd and awesome Barney Willard up front, Malcolm and I next and then the others – I didn’t dare look behind in the conditions but there were definitely riders behind me at that point…

We rode along Bexhill front, never more nervous than when the air around us went still, as we knew it was just drawing breath to hit us hard from some unexpected direction, grabbing our wheels, lifting our helmets, exploding in our ears. No South Cliff tonight, but instead we followed the road to the crossroads with Cooden Drive, then straight on under the railway bridge on Westcourt Drive. For this brief stretch we had the wind behind us before turning left along Birkdale for a long upward and windy drag that winds right and left on its way through Cooden bungalow-land.

Stuart, Barney and Malcolm left me at this point, and Ruth, Neil S (the other Neil S), Alex and another (?) went past me too, leaving me to ride solo laps. I looked behind at the high point on Birkdale to check for the others but saw no-one. Curious, I thought. Anyhow, I pressed on downhill to Cooden Sea Road, turning left and uphill again, and then turning at the top to be hit full-force in the face by the wind. Bloody Hell it was strong and gusty, but before long the route dropped bumpily down to Cooden Station, the gradient giving me a helping hand. The road levels out just before the railway bridge, the side walls of which acted as a funnel, increasing the strength of the wind from there to the left turn at the Cooden Hotel. Head down, teeth gritted, pressing hard and waiting to make the turn and feel the wind shove at my back rather than pushing at my front. Aaaarrrggghhh!

At this point, four or five riders going in the other direction passed me. I recognised Simon G. What was he doing? I decided they must have been riding the loop in reverse, perhaps having lost touch with the group as we set out. I weighed up in my mind which direction the loop might be toughest in, but decided there would be nothing in it. I would see them in another half a lap and give them some friendly abuse. That was something to look forward to!

But first there was a nice long wind-assisted sprint along Cooden Drive to enjoy; although I thought the wind was not as helpful as it might have been, coming increasingly from the south rather than the traditional chain gang southwest. Humph! I was soon at the left turn for Westcourt Drive and lap two, completed without seeing Simon G and Co. Just where in the world were they?

On my fourth lap ‘El Presidente’ was out on Cooden Drive, directing me to ride straight on, by which I understood that the loopy laps were done for the night. I enjoyed that route for a change, a varied 5km loop that’s worth riding again. It has a good mix of straights, turns and rises. Two laps would make a great 10km TT, I thought, either officially or for training purposes. Some good times ought to be possible in better conditions. The ‘Cooden Classic’ perhaps?

At the lights, we were reunited with the super-fasts, and then soon with Simon G and his band of rebels who had ridden the usual chain gang route after all. ‘Where were you?’ I asked Tom Norris. ‘Did the normal route, wasn’t listening when you decided to do the loops.’ And there you have it – on such small things are fortunes won or lost, disasters met or averted and heroes born or destroyed. Tonight, some of us did loops and others did the usual route.

Now, this meant that I HAD to ride back with Tom, otherwise he would have ridden Herbrand in a gale and I would not! That would not do and anyhow he might have an accident, and he needs help into the wind what with being so small, with that dodgy bottom-bracket and clicking knees, mild dementia

Herbrand! My goodness – the wind was strengthening and turning more southerly, becoming a solid blast, racing up the shingle to smack us on our left side. Speech was impossible, but at least the wind was constant rather than gusting. Just lean to the left and keep pedalling – easy!

After an age we made the relative shelter of the sea defences, before turning for the level crossing and riding a little more with the wind than against it. The rain started, whipped across the fields to sting our faces and blow through our thin, cold lycra. Just-Keep-Going. Up Spooky Hill together and I had gone far enough. I waved Tom on his way, trusting he would get home in one piece, and turned my wheel across the wind toward Bexhill, knowing the worst was done and I could speed home. What a buzz – a great chain gang ride, if not quite the usual recipe.



Regards, Neil

Chain Gang 'Part Deux' 'Rebel Without a Clue'

"Your not going out in that surely?", said Vicki
"I most certainly am, everybody else is going (lie) and don't call me Shirley".
You can groan all you like, this is easily my favourite joke of all time.

Earlier:
(transcribed, accurately from text messages):

Me: "It's bit mad out there, what d'ya reckon?"
Neil: "Hmmm, marginal.  The madness appeals...what do you think?"
Me: "To be honest, I think it's a bit dodgy, was some really violent gusts (on my commute back from Bexhill),          but I dunno?, I wish I was more decisive!"
Neil: "Hmmm, tricky, me too"

At which point, I am proud to say, I applied Rule 5

Me:  "Ok, let's try it, see you there!"
Neil  "Ok, mate,excellent!, Good decision!, Woohoo!. Adrenalne pumping already. Oh dear."

Upon arriving at our usual meeting place, I was amazed by the turn-out.  Neil, who was
 equally amazed at the turnout said, "At what point do we say "Enough, is enough!".
It is clear to me that unless the meeting shelter is buried under a 20ft snow-drift, people will 'rock up', for a ride.

Just before 'the off', Chris arrived and suggested the idea of 5k 'loops'; thus avoiding the dreaded Herbrand Walk - people seemed mostly O.K. about this, so off we set.

I had a particularly bad start as I had forgotten to turn on my rear light, most irritatingly I do this this quite a lot; being that it's a USB light I don't why I turn it off in the first place.  Anyway, by the time I had stopped to turn it on I had lost sight of the most of the group.  I gave chase, but was mostly 'in a little world of my own' until the South Cliff turn off where I met Simon who said "they've all gone that way and they don't seem to want to wait for us, but in any case I'd rather do the usual route".  At that point Steve arrived, followed by the guy in the red shirt (hence forth know as 'TGITRS' (I'm aware of how rude I'm being and wished I had introduced myself at the time.))  We all agreed to ignore orders from 'on high' and carry on as usual.

TGITRS Is Revealed- It Is John Moulton!

The four of us had a reasonable 'chain' going until towards the end of Herbrand when a gap appeared between Steve and I and Simon and TGITRS who were demonstrating a bit more 'oomph'.  Steve and I 'chugged' in vain but were unable to catch up with them.  The situation remained the same until I heard a familar voice, which turned out to be Tom, accompanied by Paul , who went whizzing past.  I jumped on their wheel, albeit, temporarily, until they also pulled away.  Steve and I were now chasing two sets of rear lights.
Purely out of spite (there is little loyalty between fellow 'chuggers') I decided to make myself feel better, by getting a little bit of distance between myself and Steve.

Shortly afterwards we were all gathered at the end of Sluice Lane.  There we were, not a 'super-fast' in sight, shame-faced rebels who had blatently ignored Colonel Parkers directive; surely a Court Marshall awaited us!.

We set off back to Bexhill at a speed approaching a 'warp factor'.  Simon, as usual, did his best to inject some kind of order into the pack, but I'm sure he must of felt like he was herding cats.  Not entirely our fault because whenever, we tried to 'form up' another car went past.

It was at some point after The Star that I started to think about the new potatoes, left-over from last nights dinner (which Vicki had casually mentioned, could be cut in half and lightly fried with egg and bacon: "Will make a great little dinner for you when you get back from cycling". I had to make a decision; should I go all the way, which would mean a third trip back from Bexhill (I has previously commuted) into that shite wind, or 'bail out'.  I was pondering this whilst being mesmorised by Steve's rear lights (I have always thought they are an odd, but fascinating grouping.)  Anyway, it was a 'no brainer' ; I watched the tail lights of the other riders fading out and thought about those spuds, as I 'u-turned' by the Cooden Beach Hotel.

This, of course, still left Herbrand Walk, in a westerly direction, for the third time in a day.
Whilst 'chugging' my way along, I started to realise how much I hate the name - Herbrand Walk.  Bearing in mind, how close it is to Bexhill (Warminster)-on-sea, I have decided that when I'm in charge I shall rename it 'Capt, Mainwaring Way' (for those who may not be aware, The location for 'Dad's Army' was the fictional location of Warminster, based on Bexhill-on-Sea.)

Peter Buss

14 Jan Chain-Gang Circuits

Hello Chain Gangers

 Be interested in views on the circuit used last night – originally planned for possible use on frosty nights but brought in at very short notice to try out in strong winds with dangerous gusts.

As I crawled over Galley Hill on the way to the chain gang meet the wind was very strong and gusty, blowing me off the path and on to the grass twice. It eased on the downhill run to the meet but there was some strong gusts causing my line to waiver.

 I arrived later than usual and was surprised to see something like 16 of us gathered. There was a comment, what are we going to do. I spoke with Neil about the chance to use the three mile Bexhill Circuit that was being considered for icy evenings. We then had a quick word with Stuart and decided to give the circuit a go since buildings should shelter the riders from the worst of the buffeting. I had explained the circuit to several in the past and used the first half as the start of a few bacon butty runs so some riders would be familiar with the wide roads and junctions, all light with street lights.

 Stuart Hodd explained the plan in outline to everyone with the idea that the first lap be run at a steady pace. Some immediately voiced a preference to do the usual and battle against the wind to Pevensey. I was slow in starting and saw some lights turn left at the end of Bexhill sea front instead on straight on and over the crossroads to go under the railway bridge. I did the circuit as back marker and on the second lap stopped to chat with President Stuart in his usual place. There was a fast group of four riders flying past President Stuart and several who were doing the circuit solo after not hanging on. About 8 were on the circuit and the other 8 or so did the usual run to Pevensey roundabout.

After five laps Stuart Hodd shouted to me and President Stuart that they were going straight on to the usual finish at the lights and I relayed the message as other riders came by.


In the post ride chat at the lights the roadies said they had really enjoyed the circuit, but it had been very hard work and five laps had been more than enough. The only really exposed section was the usual bit going past Cooden Beach Hotel into a howling head wind before swinging left for a very quick run down Cooden Drive before backing off just after the rise to turn left and go under the railway bridge.


If we are to use the circuit (about 3 miles) again on an icy night, please can locals check that the circuit does not have any regular ice patches, possibly not since the roads are well used (buses run on the topside in the evening) yet pretty quiet later on a winter evening, or when there are very strong gusty winds then riders would do well to sort themselves out in to smaller groups, unless they are happy to push on solo and reassemble at the lights after five laps.



Chris Parker

Chain- Gang Regular Ruth Wins Her First Ever Road Race

Great Win For Ruth!

A big HSLCC well done to Wednesday night chain-gang rider Ruth.On a challenging and windy Hillingdon course in her first road race she won it by nearly a lap,impressive !

Simon G

10/1 Pre BBR Special - 40 Miles Of Headwind!

During the week Pete Buss had suggested we move the pre BBR Lewes special to Sunday rather than Saturday due to a forecast of strong winds. Unfortunately this was not possible for me so we had to go ahead despite the warnings.

Setting off from the bridge cafe into a fierce Westerly wind we were only averaging about nine miles an hour.We had allowed  half an hour to meet up with Pete and Tom at Normans bay but with the wind we ended up taking fifty minutes. Derek was finding it particularly hard  but was determined to carry on. At this rate of progress I calculated it would take about four hours to get to Lewes and I was seriously worried we would never make it!

Fortunately once we got past Pevensey we had a little more shelter from the wind and our pace picked up to an awe inspiring 14 mph, lol

This route (provided by Nigel) was excellent, criss crossing very quiet well maintained country roads and we all enjoyed the stretch to Laughton.

The B road from laughton to Ringmer would normally have been an enjoyable stretch but we were now heading fully into the south westerly wind and it was becoming increasingly wet. We tried to work as a peloton but Derek couldn't hang on and it soon became each man for himself.

After what seemed an age we finally arrived at lewes, cold , wet and wind beaten. This was our lowest ebb, even the thought that we would soon have the wind behind us did little to cheer us. What we needed was hot coffee and food.

Tescos Was Our only Option!

All the obvious eateries were too busy to sit down so we had to settle for a costa coffe in the local Tesco. The food there was at typical rip off prices so myself and Tom purchased some half price sandwiches (68p) from the main store and sneaked them under the table.

We All Had A 'Swell' Time!

While we were resting the weather changed dramatically. The rain stopped and the sun came out. unfortunately the wind dropped to about half its previous strength. We were going to be denied the mega tail wind we had been promised.

The section of road down to Newhaven was to be the last section into the wind, from there we were heading east along the coast. Riding through Seaford we  stopped for a quick break and enjoyed the sight of the spectacular swell crashing into the prom . Derek was now completely knackered and said he would press on at his own pace, leaving myself Tom, Pete  and Diego to  cycle through Seaford and down to the seven sisters country park. We now had a choice, we could either carry on home via Beachy Head (quite easy with the tail wind) or stick to the route which would head inland where the wind assistance would be less. Tom was already going to be late home so he headed for Beachy leaving the rest us on the official route.

Diego Crosses The Flood!

All day we had noticed just how swollen the rivers were and how many fields were flooded. The river cuckmere had burst its banks and there was some quite deep flooding on the road. It was amusing watching the cars ploughing through the water which was almost high enough to enter their exhausts pipes. For us it was no problem but with massive amounts of rain forecast in the next 48 hours, this would not be a road I would want to ride on next weekend .

Myself and Peter were now getting increasingly tired but Diego seemed as fresh as a daisy . Pete was grateful to finish at Pevenesey but Diego and I still had another ten miles to go. Fortunately with the tailey I was able to spin my tired legs and arrived home with a satisfying 78 miles on the garmin

This was a fun ride despite the weather and is one I will look forward to doing again next year! thanks to Pete for organising and to Nigel for mapping out the route.

Chain gang. A view from the front (well near it anyway)

My Wednesday evening started as usual meeting up with Barny at his house in Ore for one of our errr ‘steady’ rides to the chain via Battle, down through Catsfield, up to Ninfield then through the Bronx (Sidley) and on to the start of the chain. This steady pre chain warm up as usual quickly descended into full on race pace breakaway training that apparently I had started ( as if an excuse were needed! ). This was true actually and I wished I hadn’t as Barny was in top form on the night and made me suffer for it!
On arriving at the shelter we both had a rice cake for energy (very pro) courtesy of Suze and chatted about the wind! We set off with Barny and I two abreast leading at quite a pace with, at the time I wasn’t sure but have been told about seven riders. The wind immediately started to hurt! On the turn up Southcliff  the ever powerful Neil Shier and the amazing Ruth hit the front and stretched us out. We all stayed together though until Herbrand, after taking a turn and a couple of rotations later the unbelievably low and aero Barny powered through and I just couldn’t catch his wheel and off he went thirty metres up the road. Now we have a challenge! Feeling it a bit and still waiting for the rice cake to ’kick in’ I decided to try to use the others to get back to him. With Ruth and Neil having slowed to check a mysterious noise coming from Ruth’s bike newby Jamie did enough on the front so I could recover enough to then kick and escape myself for a solo attempt to catch the git! I couldn’t. the gap stayed at about 50 metres all the way from the bridges to the rbt with us both in tt mode and struggling to keep about 20-21 mph into the wind. Neil was next in with a strong effort to catch us.
On the return Barny and I again lead it out and picked up the pace with the wind now at our heels. Reaching the hump that is spooky we maintained our speed to thin the field and were left with three of us as far as I could see without looking back to share the work to the finish, well I say share but most of the riding on the front was done by the very strong Neil and the ’on a mission’ Barny with only a couple of goes from me. The pace was silly fast with the tail wind and we arrived at the lights together with me opting not to sprint as I hadn’t done enough on the front and this would have been bad form. In a race however I would have used and abused the them without any feeling of guilt or remorse! We were however on full gas all the way back and were as ever surprised and impressed by the arrival of superwoman Ruth next in and only a few seconds behind us!
The ride home was actually steady. Which was nice. The chain was a wake up call though as the racing starts for us in march. NEED TO GET ON IT!
Cheers you amazing cycling people!

Stuart H    

Wednesday Chain Gang – ‘Champagne Supernova’

 I start watching the weather reports in earnest on a Sunday, hoping in vain for dry, warm and windless Wednesday nights. This week it was clear that we would be in for a windy but mostly dry ride. That wind did a good job of drying the roads too; it saved us from the worst of the road spray that can plague the marsh lane sections of the chain gang route.

We had a great turnout of 24 riders despite the gusty south-westerly, more than enough for two groups. But the super-fasts set out with just six riders - a quarter or ‘Picolo’ of the group - the rest of us not really fancying or feeling capable of beating a speedy path into the wind. That outward leg was going to feel fearfully hard and I was thinking more about staying upright and not being blown to a standstill! Herbrand Walk in gusts of 35 to 40mph, whilst trying to keep up with the club’s finest?  ‘Not tonight’ seemed to be the general feeling.

The rest of us ‘Standard’ riders followed a minute behind, in a long line down Marina and Western Road, splitting into small groups before the stiff pull up South Cliff into that strong but warm wind. I found myself in a group of four, which gradually grew to seven riders somewhere along Herbrand Walk. Particularly strong gusts yanked at my front wheel as the wind blew through gaps between the beach huts; definitely a night for keeping both hands on the bars.

Another (Tom)  Strava Addict Is Born!

 For the first time in ages we were caught at the level crossing, but I was glad of the break after working hard to make headway to that point. We rode tight to each other’s back wheels to make sure we didn’t lose the shelter of the group, and worked well together along the lanes to the Star Inn (is that place open anymore?). I notice as the winter progresses that more riders are sporting snazzy mudguards; I’ve got some half-length ones somewhere I should really fit…

 I think I was leading the group when we hit Spooky Hill, trying hard to keep a decent pace going with what was more of a crosswind at this point. As usual, on the night, the hill sifted out the fresher and stronger legs. I pressed on in a group of four across the marsh with Tom ‘Magnum’ Norris, Simon ‘Balthazar’ Grogan and John ‘Demi’ Stainsby. Entering the old sprint section before the final bend, I was again at the head of the group, with Tom coming up alongside me. I played silly-buggers and sped up a bit before letting him in as we both built up speed, half-committing to a contest to reach the corner first but settling for a honourable draw.

 There followed a longish wait at the roundabout as small groups of riders kept arriving – had there really been this many at the start? With the last of them safely at the layby we set off in a more freestyle grouping. I fancied pushing myself so I set off with the ‘Supers’, spinning fast as I searched for the ideal gear ratio to match their quickening pace. They were oblivious to my fiddling about as we rode fast and two-abreast across the marshes, with me gasping for breath as they casually chatted, smoked cigars and quaffed champagne. Bastards…


It was my turn to be ‘sifted’ on Spooky Hill as the group maintained their speed and mine dropped, lungs and legs burning, hopes dashed, the bitter taste of failure rising in my throat, the harsh reality of a wasted youth slapping me in the face. Surely, a new carbon-fibre bike would give me the speed I need? Somehow, I don’t think so, but sometimes my limitations piss me off. I guess I’ve got to suck it up or do something about it.

 I rode solo down the hill, with the wind pressing on my back, from there to past the Star Inn where Malcolm overhauled me before the level crossing. I watched him pull away and catch a bike showing a very bright rear light that I too was slowly gaining on. Before I reached that rider, I was caught by Simon G and John S near the Cooden Beach Hotel. The wind was fierce as we turned right at the station, heading to the 90 degree left hand turn, knowing that the wind would give us a good shove up the sharp slope.

 Working together we soon caught the guy with the overly bright light on Cooden Drive, despite being half-blinded by the blinking brightness. Having shared our displeasure, we formed a group and rode fast with the wind to the lights, with Simon G breaking away strongly for a fast finish. He was not riding his fixie! The rest of the group arrived in ones and twos having fully enjoyed a wind-powered return. It’s one of the real pleasures of cycling, isn’t it? Making near effortless progress with the wind at your back, the fizz of your tyres on wet tarmac the only noise as you rip up the road.

 I rode back to Cooden and then Normans Bay with Stuart ‘Melchior’ Buckland and Peter ’Methuselah’ Buss, revisiting again the shingle-strewn joy of Herbrand Walk, in what seemed to be an even stiffer wind. Payback came on the return leg, surfing the blast towards home and a hot meal. Riding with the wind felt glorious; I could have kept going all night, zipping along with a big smile on my face.



Regards, Neil

2/1 Fri Night Ride- Baxter Is Back!

The Eerie Figure Of Paul Appears On Battery Hill!

With such terrible and dangerous weekend weather forecast (sunday club ride has been cancelled due to ice risk) myself and Simon G were expecting a high turnout for the Friday night ride with its windless dry weather, so we were disappointed that only five riders turned up. With such a small group we all set off together down 'Battery Hill '  , half way down there was a large round bright white light shining on the other side of the road, this could only be one person; Baxter was back! Paul B has come out of his seven week hibernation and is back in full cycle mode, having ridden four times this week already. Peter B cant ride at the weekend so was making the most of the Friday ride and was pushing the pace out at the front while myself and Paul were happy just to ride up the Broad Oak drag at a steady pace. Good safe descending on dry roads through Brede and Westfield brought us out on the Stonestile approach. Peter now paid the price for his earlier efforts and began to fade somewhat but a fluffed gear change by me enabled him to to come past me on the ascent leaving me with just Diego for company. Diego was struggling on the climb a lot more than normal, this is the price you pay for not doing the Friday night ride for some weeks!

Nice and Easy Does It

The last chain gang of 2014 drew eight riders away from warm living rooms and hot dinners, suitably wrapped up for the cold conditions and vowing to be cautious on those stretches of the route we knew might be icy. Chris P was there to wave us off, and perhaps also to check the sanity of the participants. He didn’t say whether he thought us certifiable or not, but I think we can conclude that last night’s riders are hard-core chain gang addicts.

Slav joined the group somewhere around Marina Court (I hope I got your name right), making nine for the night: he joined the fabulous Stuart Hodd, Barney, Peter B, Ruth S, Suze, Steve D, me and that rascal Tom Norris. That is the first time we have had two female riders on the chain gang this season, I believe. We rode in a restrained manner along Bexhill front, two-abreast for the most part. The traffic and wind was light and the road surface damp with salted water.

The stronger riders didn’t seem to be going that much slower than usual and soon pulled away on Cooden Drive, leaving me in a group of three with Peter B and Steve - must try harder. We rotated the lead across the marshes, avoiding the icy edges. In truth, the road surface was fine. The road had been gritted and the temperature was still, I think, a little above freezing. Three of the group had ridden this part of the route on their way to the start and reported it as clear. I had also driven the route in the afternoon, checking in particular the parts of the road that are often wet and that might therefore freeze. The only ice was in the gutters and potholes, with the south side of the western descent from Spooky Hill the worst. Keeping well out from the side of the road was the sensible precaution to take, as well as taking it steady on the bends, as you would on any damp ride.

But sometimes these conditions play tricks on you. Did I sense a bit of back wheel movement on Herbrand, or was that my imagination? You know it takes just a small patch of ice to unseat you, so you ride on tenterhooks. But riding too cautiously can be as bad – you need also to ride with confidence and keep things smooth. The spouts of water drops shooting from the front wheel reassured me that the road was not frozen and so I pressed on, making reasonable progress in the three man group. Well rested, Steve decided to pull away early, perhaps mistaking our location. I dug deep and pulled past him to the layby, the super-fasts already in place, chatting, steamy breath rising into the cold night air.

It was not a night for dilly-dallying; Stuart soon had us whipped into shape and we were ready to make the return leg. The super-fasts again pulled away but appeared to slow so that Tom, Steve, Peter and I could catch them. A message came up the line that Peter was feeling unwell, having been ill for a few days but determined to ride the chain gang. He was heading home at Normans Bay.

The shelter of the group gave me fresh legs. I tucked in behind Barney and Stuart, the latter shouting that ‘we won’t go too fast so try to keep up’. I resolved to do my best but I know that their moderate pace can still be 1 or 2 mph too fast for me. I hung on up and down Spooky Hill, past the Star Inn where I took a turn at the front, through the level crossing and along Herbrand. Slav went off the front again and I tried to pull past Barney and Stuart to take another turn at the front. I didn’t have the legs, apologised to Barney and pulled in behind. A stitch started in my ride side, stapling my right lung to my ribs, shortening my breath. And that was that – the guys pulled away and Ruth overtook me to join them. They rode smoothly but steadily away, with Slav turning at Cooden to ride back to Eastbourne.

As I climbed the short slope from Cooden I became aware of a light behind, bright and flashing. I recognised it’s frequency and shape as belonging to the ‘Bianchi Bomber’, that sturdy steed ridden with determined zeal by my arch nemesis. Yes, Tom ‘Red Socks’ Norris was catching me up. I let him, knowing we would rotate our way to the traffic lights, cooperating with most of the way, before trying to get the better of each other by the finish.

We took turns along Cooden, playing cat and mouse, pulling past but not easing off too much, making the other rider work that bit harder with each manoeuvre. Tom pedalled hard up Cooden Bump, but I hung on grimly. He seemed strong and I thought I’d do well to keep on his wheel at this rate.

We swooped down the other side and Tom was still riding hard, despite my bike generally being faster downhill than most. “Crap” I thought, “I’m glad I caught the bugger but that’s all I’ll do from here.”

He kept pedalling hard but somehow I kept in touch. We rode fast past the crossroads, keeping our speed, no chat, just serious endeavour, determined riding, and hard cycling. The road rises slightly at this point and I was still holding on, but only just. Tom still seemed strong, pushing himself lower and longer over the bike. And then came the classic Norris tactic of crying out as if wounded, as if he has blown.

But I know of old that this is a ruse, a deception to lull rivals into thinking you’ve got him beat and make you hesitate for half a pedal-stroke, only to see him pull away again with fresh energy. I really thought he might. Did I want to be beaten, I asked myself, so close to the end of the ride? Was I going to let him beat me mentally before I’d given my all?

“You bastard”, I thought, “I’ll get you Tom Norris!” I went for it, urging myself forward.

For those few moments when the road slopes gently downward and the lights come into view, I hated him, deliberately and cruelly. “I’m going to grind your bones” I said to myself. I dug deep, pressed harder and faster on the pedals, sucking in as much air as I could. I found I was gaining on him - yes! I pulled to the right to pass him and cycled harder still, ready to bust a gut to get past.

I was sure he’d match me, find some extra pace with which to hold me off, but no, I was pulling away, ‘through and off’, holding the front, Tom’s curses ringing out behind me as I put the final stamp on my ascendancy, before braking hard to pull into the roadside outside the brightly-lit estate agents. Tom pulled up to my right, put-out his hand and we shook – my hatred only temporary and purely for the purpose of motivation. Tom and I remain as we have all year: close rivals on good terms, respectful of each other but keenly competitive.

We rode back toward Eastbourne with Ruth. By the time you read this she will have competed in her first Cat 3/4 road race, for ERCC I think. She should do well, judging by her performances in the chain gang. My ride home from Rock Cottage was through increasingly cold air but I don’t think it ever quite reached zero and there is a noticeable rise in temperature as you enter town.

No doubt, many of you will wonder why we rode on such a cold night with the risk of icy roads; I did too! There was a fair bit of debate on whether to ride or not but ultimately we all made an informed decision and, as reported above, the route was checked and then ridden with appropriate care.

And so ended the 2014 chain gangs. We’ve had some great turnouts and many memorable rides. To me, they’re all memorable! The New Year brings new training aims, first of all for me is to lose some weight. Second, to see if I can stay a bit longer with the super-fasts…

See you all next Wednesday for the first chain gang of 2015.

neil

SNAP, CRACKLE & POP !

Early text messages greeted me with various reasons for not making the meeting point, from colds, hangovers & weather forecasts.
Despite this, we still had 9 riders at the harrow. Hight H, Alex S, Jon S, Tom N, Simon G, Nick S, Nigel T, Derek M, John V.

    We set off at a pretty frosty 2C, with both Derek & Simon commenting on the amount of icy patches on Sedlescombe Rd North, that they had seen on their way to the meet, but Jon S & myself had ridden from Westfield & the roads had been clear. We decided not to follow the planned route, for fear of some of the steep narrow lane having ice on them, and stick more to the main roads towards Horam.

  We encountered a patch of ice stretching the full width of the road on the A271 as we neared Ashburnham, so when we reached the road junction towards Boreham hill, Simon G decided to bail, fearing the road conditions. The now 8 of us continued up Boreham Hill to Windmill hill, deciding to then take the turning into Joe's lane and head towards Bodle street, and keep an eye on the road conditions. Finding them to be fine, we wound our way towards Horam via Rushlake green, and then taking Horebeech lane up to the Lakeside cafe, only to be disappointed as it was closed. We set off down the road to try our luck at the bikers cafe, which was open & proved to be a great success.

  Re-fuelled we discussed a route back, deciding to avoid the traditional, flatter but cold & exposed route in favour of a few more hills and a more inland route. Heading through Vines cross towards Cade street, Alex Smith suddenly hit the deck on the corner of a short descent, having lost his front wheel on some unseen ice. The rest of us cleared the corner without incident. Nigel was beside him when he suddenly decided that cycling wasn't for him and decided to do his best "Amy Williams" impression, but without the luge. He parted company with his up till then trusted velopede, and slid across the road into the grass verge. He evidently hit his head pretty hard on the tarmac, as he was out cold when we reached him, and wasn't aware of any of it. An ambulance was needed and sadly he detached his collarbone from his shoulder, tore ligaments and suffered concussion. His crash hat having scuffs, dents & a crack through it, as it sheilded his head from the tarmac, proved that they do make a difference when tested, and he was lucky to only suffer a few minor scuffs to his face. No broken bones fortunately, so we left him in the safe hands of the wonderful paramedic that attended very promptly, as they awaited the imminent arrival of the ambulance.

  We couldn't let Nick S suffer any longer, as by now even his goose bumps had goose bumps, as he continues to wear shorts, whatever the weather, so now the 7  of us set off again. We reached Cade street and followed the testing undulations through Punnetts town/ Woods corner/ Netherfield & up to Battle, then along the Ridge to the harrow to complete our improvised route. We enjoyed a bright, chilly morning riding through some beautiful countryside, well most of us.

Speedy recovery Alex!

All the best, J.V