Wednesday Chain Gang – Fast Night

 The almost but not quite superb spring weather continues with warmth and sunshine, but also with that nagging east wind beloved of Peter Buss (his wiring is all wrong). The breeze last night was significant, making for a rapid outward leg for the 26 or so riders that (more or less…) made the start. I expected more, frankly, given the good conditions and that next week is the last chain gang until the autumn. Time trials and long summer rides await us, with long warm days on which wet and windy November chain gangs will seem impossible.

 A dozen Ultras set out first and were caught again near the De La Warr by the temporary lights. The council tell me that the work here will be completed by December 2016, so that’s good – you can see the huge difference it is making to road safety by creating squeeze points for cyclists on a national cycling route. Hurrah! Add a zebra crossing if you want to help the pedestrians; as a cyclist make sure you look behind and then ‘take the road’ at these points so that cars have to wait behind you to get through.

 With ideas above my station, I rode behind the front two of Barney (awesomely awesome) and Stuart Hodd (stupendously superb), riding as close as sensible along the front, keeping in touch up South Cliff and along Cooden Drive. The group began rotating the front at this point, fast around the Cooden Curves and then out of the saddle on Herbrand Walk as we looked to keep up the pace on the slight rise from the junction.

 We were rumbling along nicely when we encountered a ruck of other riders (bloody cyclists!), pootling along unaware of the juggernaut of speedy riders approaching from behind. Good communication saw us safely and swiftly around them, then on to the level crossing and the twisty section before the Star Inn. The pace was high with a good breeze behind us, and Spooky Hill soon approached. I was determined to hang on with the group this week. I went up just a second slower than the KoM speed I went up at two weeks ago, but the group was faster still this time. A bunch broke my time, with the truly spectacular Stuart Hodd bagging the new KoM for the hill segment, knocking three seconds off the old record. Chapeau Stuart!

 Even though I was only three seconds off the pace, I was gapped and then dropped as they sped onwards down the west slope of the hill. I pressed as hard as I could but they were pulling away. I had a short ray of hope in the form of Neil Shier and Ruth Summerford as they tried also to make their way to the group, but the pace beat them also. Have the Ultras become the Mega Ultras? What do we call them after that – Mega Ultra Gods?


Well, that was me cooked for the return leg into the wind, so I rode back in a group as far as Spooky Hill, before taking the tactical decision to drop back a bit further so that I could ride with just about everyone that had turned up last night. You know, ‘sharing the love’ as they say. I was well off the pace before tagging on with a group that included John S, Kelvin and some others, making a reasonable job of through and off.

 Hacking back down Herbrand we saw a shortish, bearded chap waving and cheering from the pavement, clearly very excited by our display of power and speed. As we rode closer I realised it was a celebrity fan, one Graham Norton, walking to his house near the beach huts. Now, some doubters refuse to believe this, but I assure you it is true – I understand that his mother lives in Bexhill and that he has a place down here so he can visit her. So there you go.

 Chain gang complete, a group of us set off back towards Normans Bay and Eastbourne – Stewart B, Peter B (no relation, or then again…), Duncan F, Ruth, Tom, Neil Shier and me. A mini chain formed, out of habit, but with liberal amounts of shouting, abuse and foolery thrown in. We came to the east slope of the Cooden Bump and I fancied my chances of a PR (failed), jumping out of the saddle and going for it, with Stewart B giving chase on his Grifter. I could tell it was he without looking back, due to the noise of those deep-section chrome rims and knobbly tyres. Very retro, very loud.

The others caught up and then Tom N sped by, obviously keen to make a point. Shouts of derision followed him and then we were off in pursuit, chasing him down like greyhounds after a hare. Some semblance of decorous behaviour returned but we were still riding at a good pace. We passed more cyclists on Herbrand, stopping to help Sean with a puncture by the look of it (obviously nicer people than us). Ruth confessed to having ‘woman-flu’ and fully accepted that the male version – man flu – must be a very debilitating illness indeed. It takes a brave woman to recognise what us chaps have known for centuries. Well done Ruth.

 Having dropped Peter off at his rest home, I was reluctant to continue across the marsh, given the events of last week, but it was that bit earlier and lighter so I rode on before returning to Bexhill. There are no scary happenings to report – no mysterious voices, disappearing cars or sudden changes in temperature – just cooling spring air, lambs and that bloody wind! Make sure you make the chain gang next week and come in fancy dress – Tom has promised to come as a fairy, Simon G as the Grinch and Peter B as Widow Twanky.  I can’t wait.

 
Regards, Neil