30/10 HSLCC Fri Night Ride- The Rolling Stones

The good weather plus the facebook effect (posting on our facebook group https://www.facebook.com/groups/1067348029942839/ to confirm attendance) gave us a good turnout of eight riders. This included a rare appearance from 'Ultra' Stu Hodd who was free of Friday child care duties for a change.

Stu Makes A Rare Fri Night Appearance!

Simon was anxious to set off bang on 7;30 but I persuaded Stu to hold everybody back until he had counted to sixty seconds as I am such a wuss at descending Battery Hill in the dark. This worked out really well as by the time I got to the bottom only Stu and 'The demon Descender' (Marcus) had caught up with me.

We had quite a strong headwind as we entered the Rye nature reserve. Not having checked my mobile I was unaware that JV had text me earlier warning of pebbles across the path that had fallen off lorries employed to rebuild the shingle banks. Sure enough  we soon came to our first mass of pebbles and had to  dart back and forth to avoid the main mass of them. This had to be repeated about five times until we finally reached the exit road and were clear of them .

Entering Rye it was great to be out of the wind. Malc has been having trouble with his left leg all week and said he would ride at my pace all night but even a Malc with a dodgy leg proved too fast for me so it was a solo ride for me almost all the way to the Broad Oak.

With it being unusually mild , I was seriously overheating by the time I regrouped with the others and was glad of the long descent down through Brede valley to cool me down.

Entering our 'cut through to Doleham lane' we were surprised to have to slow down and pass several vehicles using this lane, as Stu said' what were they doing here, this is our piece of road!' I managed to get past the vehicles first and so had the honour of leading the pack as we swept through Westfield and onto the 'Stonestile approach' . Myself and Dan are usually an even match for this steep climb which is just as well as Dan's front light suddenly died but with my 1100 lumens up front to light the way he had no trouble finding his way to the top.

Another enjoyable Friday night ride and great to get the chance to ride it with Stu again (one of the original 'Friday night riders') Stu is now only two points away from being awarded his 2nd category road racing licence. He has just two events left to get these two points so we all wish him good luck with this.


Steve C

24/10: Part Deux - Pre BBR Brighton Special

"Not tonight, Josephine"

08:18 pm - The Lamb, Wartling

"Can I get you anything else, Madam?"

"No, just the bill, thank you", replied Rachael

They both looked across at Matt who was face down in his 'Sticky Toffee Pudding', his hands still gripping the back edge of the table which resembled a yellow war zone as the impact of him dropping into his desert had sent custard all over the table; and even the cruet set was flecked in yellow.

"Is he dead?"

"I hope not, he just over did it on the cycle ride today; the sad thing is he promised me a 'romantic' evening, fat chance of that now!.  It looks like I'll be watching T.V now when we get home."

"Well if you leave now at least you'll catch the end of 'Strictly", said the waitress in an effort to find a 'silver lining'.

Assembly At Norman's Bay Border Crossing!

"Oh, that's true - my money's on Peter Andre"

07:57 - Normans Bay Border Crossing

"Let's make one thing clear - I'm not going anywhere with that ****hole!"

I wagged my finger in the direction of Mr Smith who was astride his bike and biting his bottom lip in anticipation of my reaction to him 'passing off' a very intimate and smutty picture, of him and Mary performing in their dungeon, as me and my new wife, in his latest blog.

As well as Neil, the assembled group consisted of Matt, Patrick, Peter B, Adam and
his friend George who is an 'iron man', and just before we set off, we were joined by Duncan.


I decided magnanimity is a more admirable quality than sulking so I over-looked Neil's outrageous behaviour and the brisk outward leg was full of high spirits and bonhomie.

It was around about Ringmer when Peter B quipped:

"We're going to have to 'give it some' to get back to De Paulos by ten!"

Everyone thought this was amusing apart from Duncan who looked startled.

"Oh, where are we going this morning I thought this was going to be a normal Pre BBR?"

When we explained that we were headed for Brighton he did an about-turn after explaining that, ironically, he was going to Brighton anyway this weekend and that if he had known he could have arranged to have his stuff taken there by his girlfriend.

After a couple of wrong turns and p*** stops we were soon gathered at the lay-by before the turn off for Ditchling.  Matt, who admitted he hadn't been 'getting the miles in' was struggling to keep up and when he joined us he informed us that he was going to turn round after the ascent of Ditching as he was worried abou
t tonight.

"Rachael's got certain expectations of me tonight, he explained, we've dumped the kids and we're planning a 'romantic' evening" - he accompanied this with a few nudge, nudge, wink, wink gestures.

I tried to encourage him by telling him that he would be full of regrets if he didn't complete the route.

"But If I go the 'whole way' I won't be going 'the whole way tonight' - I don't think I'll even be 'getting it up!'

Eventually he agreed after I assured him that after Ditchling it was downhill apart from Beachy.  This was a blatant lie because I omitted to mention the other hills including Cuckmere Valley, but it worked and, with much reluctance, he agreed he would stay with us.


There is a delicious moment that comes in the midst of much suffering during a steep climb when you realise that, despite the pain, you are actually gaining ground on the person in front.  This happened to me during the ascent when I could see that I was gaining on Peter B.  I thought to myself:

"I can overtake the ol' git through my steady rhythmic pedaling and stealth"

Unfortunately just short of the summit he must have either got a whiff of my John Paul Gaultier cologne, or, more likely, heard my grunting and snorting as I approached him. He took the merest of glances over his shoulder, dug deep and put a little spurt on to block my advances.  I consoled myself with the knowledge and thought that 'truly confident men have nothing to prove' - so stick that in your pipe and smoke it Mr Psychologist!.

Pete Claimed It Was All Downhill From Here!

The first to arrive at the summit was Neil, followed by Patrick and George (not sure who was second), then Peter B, then me, followed shortly afterward by Adam and then Matt - who although he only looked half alive I could tell by his face that he thought he had made the right decision.  Whilst recovering I took the obligatory group photo with the Ditchling Beacon sign in the background, and also a photo of the tatoo on George's calf.  I had mistakenly thought the term 'iron man' referred to someone who takes part in a super triathlons; in fact George explained to me that it means you have testicles that are certified to weigh at least a pound -  I was very impressed with this fact because mine don't weigh anything like that, probably just a few ounces.

Matt Considering His Forthcoming Night Of Passion...

The beauty of ascending Ditchling it that afterwards it is downhill pretty much all the way to the Brighton University campus where we go for breakfast.  I showed a modicum of restraint this time and only had one sausage with my eggs and bacon and avoided the beans altogether (though to be fair they didn't look at all congealed this time.)

...Whereas Neil Is More Interested In Eggs And Bacon!

It is traditional that when passing through Seaford we stop at the supermarket to stock up on drinks, and Peter B reminded us of this - nobody required anything but I did, very thoughtfully, ask Matt if he 'needed' anything for tonight - without being too specific; he declined.

We became quite spread out once we started ascending again, and had to re-group several times.  Generally, we had a pattern of Patrick, Neil and Peter B and George up front, closely followed by Adam, closely followed by me, with Matt gallantly bringing up the rear.


The final ascent is Beachy, via The Seven Sisters, which I always find particularly tough, because it seems like one is never climbing anything more than a slight gradient, but it is very illusory and seems to sap energy.  We weren't alone today because the Beachy Head Marathon was in full flow with a quite a good turnout of spectators - nobody was interested in our efforts, but I would have loved to have heard the odd 'well done lads!' aimed in our direction.  I did have another one of those nice moments that I mentioned earlier, when you are suddenly aware of gaining on someone despite your own personal suffering.  In this case it was Adam I caught up with and slid past, just short of the agreed assembly point by the 'bogs', I had no choice but to 'rub salt in his wounds by adding a totally unnecessary 'Come on Adam!' as I went past - I think he was in meltdown - still never mind, it felt good anyway! (sorry Adam.)

The descent of Beachy is always exhilarating, but was totally spoiled on this occasion by the 'Road Closed' sign near Beades School - we ignored the sign (after nearly crashing into it) and threaded our way past the runners and spectators who were gathered at the finish line and made our way back through Eastbourne.  Along the way Matt mentioned that he was going to The Lamb at Wartling as a prelude to his 'special evening' where co-incidentally Vicki and I also had a table booked.  Matt did request that as he was planning on having a 'romantic evening' it would be best if we didn't combine forces, but just have a quick chat - I, of course, was happy to oblige.  I have to say that the The Lamb is a first class pub/restaurant and I can highly recommend it; not cheap but great food, beer, atmosphere and service.

Congregating for the final time at Pevensey Bay (before I collected my usual cakes from the bakery) we all agreed it had been a magical trip at a special time of year.  For those starting from Hastings it is almost a century ride, and in fact Neil, starting from Bexhill ,did complete a century (he's still a tw*t though.)

Look forward to the next one.

Peter Buss

25/10 - KCA Reliability Trial

My old brain seems to have suffered a bit of an end of term melt down this week. First I  emailed everyone to remind them about the clocks changing but told them the clocks were moving forward instead of back! Within a couple of hours a plethora of emails on my mobile informed me I had got it wrong. Trying to correct my mistake I sent out another email only to get it wrong again! It was only only on the third email I finally got it right! However I then had to worry that someone had read my original emails and would arrive at the KCA 'two hours' early!!!

I was giving a lift to Malc C and Andy T in my faithful old MPV. Unfortunately the old dear is on its last legs (176,000 miles) , it has a faulty automatic gearbox that wont change gear until its fully warmed up . As this was the first proper cold day for some time, we had to grind our way up to Ore village in first gear and couldn't get into fourth until we reached Icklesham. Then, instead of following the instructions on the sat nav we thought we knew better  and headed towards Rye before  finally obeying its directions. All this meant we arrived with just eight minutes to spare before the official departure time. This meant that I had to forgo my usual faffing about and get over to the start with the official entry cards pronto.

Arriving at the HQ, our numbers were a bit lower than I expected with a number of club members that were DNS, although nine riders is still a good turn out . JV and Nigel had already ridden 30+ miles from Hastings while Steve B (on a fixie) had ridden 20+ miles from Hawkhurst. Also putting on the miles were Patrick and Peter Baker who had  ridden 90 + miles on the pre BBR special the day before.

We all set off together at a nice steady pace but being the oldest it takes Malc C some time to warm up and he was dropped on the first long drag. Malc has become my standard training partner and I knew Malc had no gpx route to follow so I waited for him to catchup before speeding up to chase down the others, hoping that Malc would now have warmed up enough to keep up. I closed the gap on the others to about 20 metres but Malc was again some way back and by the time he reached me, the others had gone round a bend and were nowhere in sight. Oh well, I couldn't have stayed with hem for long anyway!

Myself and Malc settled into a nice steady rhythm and despite getting dropped by the others I felt that we were riding really well as we kept passing rider after rider from different clubs, fitness is all relative , I would say that HSLCC can now boast some of the strongest riders in Sussex/kent.

Meanwhile the main group stayed together for about 30 miles before JV , Malc D and Nigel put the hammer downs and dropped the others. Andy T (on his first ever reliability trial)  gave chase but ended up in no man's land between the two groups . His gps unit was playing up (that damn redirection setting again!) so he rode on hoping he hadn't taken a wrong turn. Fortunately some time later , Nigel had a puncture which gave everyone the chance to regroup and they decided to stay together for the rest of the ride.

Myself and Malc enjoyed an incident free ride in the sunny windless conditions .Having changed the original 120mm stem for a 100mmm one, my  CAAD 8 fits me better than ever and I no longer get the shoulder/upper back ache that I just thought was old age . I felt as if I could ride all day , although my Morton's neuroma in my left foot didn't seem to like the cold weather and was playing up badly!

The first half of the ride was on really well surfaced roads but this all changed when we reached the far lumpier second half. There were few potholes but the top road surface was so badly eroded that riders were subjected to a great deal of vibration  and there was one downhill road section that ended up on a give way, but there was no warning sign and the give way markings had been completely worn away. I had visions of shooting out directly into the path on an oncoming car so slammed the anchors on as hard as I dared without losing control and with some skidding came to a stop  about a metre over the junction.

Despite this, I really enjoyed the steady succession of undulating climbs on he way back, the one up to Goudhurst was particularly memorable as a group of about 13 riders all wearing the same club kit swept past us in an impressively fast and well orchestrated fashion.

Using Up Some Unwanted Time At The 'Gun & Spit Roast ' Inn!

 Steve B ( a long way ahead) was now paying the price of doing such a lumpy/ long ride on a fixie and his back was playing him up badly as he lumped the bike over the climbs.This was far and away the longest fixie ride he has ever done.

The main group had agreed to follow Malc D's plan and stop at the lovely 16th century inn 'the Gun & Spit roast' . Malc and I arrived there about 25 minutes later but still had time for a very enjoyable pint of beer in the sunshine before we all set off for the final couple of miles to the HQ at Claygate where we arrived with perfect timing to be declared RELIABLE!!. yes you heard that right , for the first time in goodness knows how long we had actually done it.!

Still A Bit Stunned After Being Declared reliable!

This was another great day out in perfect cycling weather. I am particularly pleased that Andy T enjoyed it so much and wants to come on more of these externally organised rides.

Steve C

Wednesday Chain Gang - Baker's Dozen

Now that we have properly-dark chain gangs, we are starting to have 'proper' chain gang weather, although the rain that persisted all day had stopped as we assembled for our ride across the marshes, and it was pretty warm without the nagging easterly or northerly winds of late. The worst of the puddles had drained away, so there was little spray to obscure our sight, mess up our bikes and splatter our freshly-laundered Castelli kit. A smattering of regulars rolled up - Michael M, Stuart H, Slawek G, Stewart B, Steve, John V, Alex S, Nigel T and others my memory is too feeble to recall. Peter Buss looked stood out a little more than usual in a designer-concept one-piece cycling costume inspired by the ultra-close fit of a condom and the feathers of the pink flamingo. I'll leave that one to your imagination, rather than share the photographs.

"I'm wearing it for Pierre" he said. "R-r-r-ight..." I stuttered, a little shocked. "No, it's not like that - we met in Paris (he pronounced it 'Paree'), he's a fashion designer I met on my latest shoot. Pierre's a genius - he can work miracles with a length of silk and some scissors." I backed away, smiling nervously. "You look great Peter" - Lord Buckland was sniggering into his Merino wool neck warmer, his valet holding a silver-salver with a half-full glass of champers, and a heavily-muscled masseur warming up his thigh muscles. Cyclists are a truly diverse bunch. I like that about the sport.

With a good number of chain gang regulars lounging around in Majorca and others perhaps deterred by the prospect of more rain, we were a relatively small group of 13 riders, so we set off as one group. I was reassured by the stupendously superb Stuart Hodd that he was going to take it easy as he was saving himself for a race on Friday at the Cyclopark (fingers crossed that you get the points you need for your Cat 2 classification Stuart). I led out the group with Stuart alongside, and two neat lines of riders following behind.

I soon realised I was having a bad night; there was not much go in the legs. Oh dear. I got dropped early but managed to get back into the group, taking a turn at the front, but that was me pretty much 'cooked'. I fell back, legs feeling feeble and my my spirits low. One of those nights. I dropped well back and eventually I was caught by Peter B. I was pleased to have some company and together we rotated our way across the dark and damp marsh. It was apparent that Peter was struggling for breath, not helped I think by his new 'costume'. In full race mode, the wearer is required to pull a thin rubber sheath down over the head. The purpose is to provide superior aerodynamics and it does look very effective in this regard. It does, however, limit breathing. I have found breathing to be a very useful skill when cycling.

I ventured that this was a significant design flaw. Peter mumbled something back and I realised that speech was also impeded by the prototype gear. No matter - we matched each other's pace and were not that far behind the lead group, waiting at the lay-by to start the return leg.

I fancied that with a bit of wind assistance I could make a better effort on the way back. It went well as far as Spooky Hill, when I was again reminded that my legs were on holiday. I swore into the dark night, but I had neither the heart nor the energy to up my effort. I settled back into a pace I could maintain, riding solo back to town, following the distant red lights of faster and fresher riders.

Peter rolled up not long after me, with the experimental kit torn and ripped. "Did you crash Peter?" I asked, genuinely concerned. "No, I've just made some adjustments, that's all. It's good kit, just needs some ventilation" he proclaimed, hair slick with sweat and eyes bulging. "It looks a bit tight chum - can you breath ok..?" I left it there.

Having bidden farewell to our erstwhile riding pals, Peter and I set off back to the marshes, with Lord B and an Eastbourne rider in front. They soon cleared off, leaving just the two of us to wend our way back to the Peoples' Republic of Normans Bay. We paused at the border to watch the bats circling the lights on the watchtowers, investigating the irritating clicking noise coming from Peter's back wheel. Problem fixed, I rode on but cut short my usual double-ration of chain gang, turning for home and rest that bit sooner, wondering what it was that had led to such a flat night for me. No answers were forthcoming, but there is next week - a fresh chain gang to be ridden again, on fresher legs.  See you there.

Postscript. Peter sent me a photo of him wearing the second prototype cycling kit, with Vicki slung over his shoulder. I think the ventilation problem has been addressed, but I am not so sure about the ears.


Post-postscript. "Are you ok chum, you don't seem yourself." Mr Buss has an uncanny knack of spotting when I am below par. I told him the problem, felt better for it, and remembered that it was cycling that had introduced us. All the nonsense above is my way of saying 'thank you' for being a good friend Peter. A strange way, I know, but nonetheless a thank you. Just don't wear that costume again.


Regards, Neil

Audax part 2 “How I learned to stop worrying and love the route sheet”

The Audax Began At Clayton Windmill!

Following an intense Summer of TT action and balls-out club riding I thought it would be nice to reconnect with my roots and join in with a couple of late season classic audax events.  However it soon became apparent that all the lung-busting, knee-popping, testosterone-fuelled action of the previous months had ruined me for the more subtle approach required.  This was demonstrated on the Autumn Tints recently when I had to resort to stopping in a pub and drinking beer just to give my audax-self time to catch up with my TT-self so I could get back to the arrivee in decent shape.

Nothing daunted I gave it another crack last Saturday on the Mid Sussex Hillier in the company of John Vidler.

 I am happy to report I was finally able to break the bad habit of on the rivet riding by the following expedients:

1   Reining in top speed to more manageable levels by staying in the little ring (also partly due to front changer maintenance backlog issues)

Tom Tucks Into The Free Hot Dogs!

2   Accidentally giving JV the slip due to a comfort break miscommunication and finding that I was temporarily without any GPS guidance whatsoever (the horror!).  The realisation that I had no option but to stop and read the instructions written on the route sheet was followed by an appreciation of just what that meant.  I could stop worrying about how fast I was going and concentrate on the adventure in hand; navigating the twists and turns of the route while looking out for random facts.  I defy even the most hard-headed, Strava-obsessed, KOM chaser not to have their bad habits broken by having to stop in the Bluebell Line car park and write down the time of the last train to Sheffield Park.  Needless to say the rest of the ride passed pleasantly in contemplation of the gorgeous scenery, and eating hot dogs, and eating ice-creams and trying to catch falling leaves before they hit the ground (a game I have invented and named ‘lucky leaf’, let me know how you get on with this, neither I nor John were quick enough to score this time).

Well Deserved Ice Cream At The Finish!

 And I still managed a cracking sprint finish as is customary (and beat JV for once!).

 Oh, it was 5:08 by the way.

Tom N

17/10 Improver's Ride- Benenden Buster

With six different rides going on at the weekend, the 'Improver's Ride' did well to attract six riders at the Harrow for a 9;10 start. Steve F was feeling a bit anxious as he had never done a ride over 35 miles before, how would he cope with a hilly 66? Patrick is easily fit enough to cope with JV's Sunday club ride but was recovering from a cold so thought it best to join the improver's instead.
Three weeks after being diagnosed with a worn out chainring, Malc C's carbon Boardman was still awaiting repair, forcing Malc to come out on his heavy weight and massively undersized (50 cm frame for a six foot rider!) Carrera, I knew that this was going to cause him to suffer later on.

Blue And Black Seems To Be The Jersey Colour Choice For The 'Improvers'!

Peter baker stopped to stay hello on the way back from his own ride, so we got him to take a group picture of the 'improvers' before setting off down the ridge towards Pett. On the way I spotted a rider in an attractive green/red jersey going the other way , I often recognise riders from their clothing but this one was new to me. later the unknown rider appeared on our side of the road to join our group. It turned out to be Steve Denny. Now those of you who know Steve D know that Steve is the World's number one bargain spotter, apparently Planet X were clearing out lots of old jersey and for £100 they would supply twenty random jersey's in your size, hence the new jersey (Steve actually got three of this very attractive design).

After bidding farewell to Peter at Pett, we proceeded past Rye, Appledore and along the edge of Romney marsh. The riding was mostly flat and despite a mild head wind, it all felt easy as we worked together in a mini peloton with each rider doing a fair turn at the front.

Having reached the Tenterden area we headed West and then south through Benenden and onto Bodium .This is a lovely area  with attractive and well surfaced roads. The terrain was now much more lumpy and this is where the bulk of the 3,700 feet of climbing would come. Malc was now struggling to haul his Carrera up the climbs and we had to wait quite often for him to catch up. The rest of us were feeling good , Patrick seemed to have recovered from his cold and did the bulk of leading from the front. With Patrick's help myself, Steve D and Nigel F would go onto to achieve a high tally of Strava PBs.

We pulled into the cafe at Bodium for a well deserved coffee/tea and cake. Its  a bit pricey here but the location is perfect being just 11 miles from the end. The weather had warmed up nicely so we were able to sit outside with the nice back drop of the castle behind us.

Riding to Sedlescombe involves  riding  a mostly downhill stretch of the B2165, very exhilarating but also busy with fast moving traffic. We then turned off at Pestalozzi along a much quieter  uphill minor road. This is one of my favourite sections as I love the solitude of the climb and that feeling that you are almost back home. Despite riding twenty miles more than he had ever done before Steve F was climbing well and having little trouble keeping up.  Reaching Westfield we had the choice of either Rocks lane or Stonestile . We chose the former despite some fears about the condition of the road. The road surface was ok , it had been patched since last time we rode it and an enjoyable drag brought us out to the end of the road near Aldis'

As Nigel said at the end, 'this was not an easy ride, just a bit easier than the Sunday club ride', I have to agree, for me this was the perfect pace and very enjoyable.

The next 'improver's ride ' will be Saturday November 7th.


Steve C

Paris Brest Paris 2015

 It was in the autumn of 2014 that I first heard about PBP and Audaxing in general, from talking with JV on the return from a Wed chain gang. These conversations were brief but sowed the seed for what was to become the best experience on a bike I have ever had. I have documented on previous posts the journey to qualify for entry with 200,300,400,600km brevets between February and May 2015. These slowly built my passion for long distance riding and took me to far flung parts of the country with some good friends. Along the way I encountered riders who all seemed to be just having a lot of fun, even at 3am looking for a cash machine to validate their route! Some of these I would recognise later at PBP.
An initial group of four club riders was whittled to just Steve Butcher and myself and the reality of setting off to ride 1200km was fast approaching. We had always decided that our goal time would be to finish within 90 hrs (the other choices were 80 or 84hrs) but for a first attempt we didn't want to put ourselves under any more pressure than necessary.

All the pre-ride research said it was an event that was unequalled for the passionate support by locals who came out and offered food and drink along the route and encouraged riders. This proved for me to be the most memorable part. The best piece of advice I found was to be efficient at the checkpoints, and take your bottles with you to refill as it was a long walk if you forgot them.
I soaked all this up and then started to plan what to take. I knew that the challenge was going to be keeping the weight to a minimum but enough to cope with any problem. Self sufficiency was key.
Kit is a very personal choice and I had selected my key pieces during the qualifiers for their comfort. That said I did break all the rules and wear a new set of bib shorts straight out of the box and got away without and problems. I have to praise those Assos shorts for their comfort but am still wincing at the price! Packing for all weathers and eventualities makes it hard to travel light. I took my trusty Revelate saddle bag that can take 13litres and this performed well. On my handlebars I had a double ended drybag (Alpkit) in which I carried a cut down foam mat,blow up pillow and silk sleeping bag liner. Definitely not the most comfortable sleeping option but the lightest and did the job. I won't go on about kit but the Sudocreme and Chamois cream were life savers. Steve carried all his kit in a rucksack and did not report any problems to my surprise. In fact he praises the Lidl purchase as the best £9.99 he has spent! Most riders had a reasonable sized saddle bag/pannier and a lot just had a handlebar bag. Some carried less than I take on a Sunday club run! They must have had support or felt lucky that nothing would go wrong.

Now setting out to ride 1200km was one thing but it was always our intention to ride to and from PBP. Well it seemed rude not to make the most of riding in France and after all it was in the true spirit of Audaxing so that was settled. What was not settled was Steve deciding that we would ride to Paris in a day after the overnight on the ferry from Newhaven. I had not been able to get any and I mean any riding done between the end of June and August because of work and I was going to use the ride to Paris as a warm up and wing it after that. I convinced myself it was 60% mental and 40% physical so the enforced rest would do me good. We tried to sleep on the ferry but the air conditioning left us chilled and the morning light brought drizzle and then humidity. Pushing for Paris in a day is not a problem distance wise but the humidity sapped us and spreading it over two days would have been better. I suffered in the heat and had still to find my legs. We found out just how undulating northern France was and how exposed it can be. Thankfully the wind was light and we arrived at the Formula 1 motel by the evening. This was 8 miles from the start on the edge of a retail park and cheap. That night as we walked to the supermarket there were flash floods and lightning and we wondered what lay in store for us.

The next day we started to see people dragging bike boxes along the roads and the motel was full of riders. There was a coach load from Romania who busily started assembling their bikes in the carpark. We later found out that they had three bikes stolen from the corridor overnight before the start. Why they left them there is beyond me. Ours were in the room. One then rode his wife's Mtb and finished in 80 hrs! and the other two had bikes donated from the local Decalthlon. That was a nice gesture and typified the French spirit towards the ride.
We had two days to rest up and recce the start at the national velodrome and strip out kit to the minimum. We discovered a free bag drop at the start and this took care of the extra bits. On the Saturday there was a bike check and this consisted for me of an old Frenchman turning my lights on and off and rattling my bottle cage! I still have no idea what that was all about. Bike passed it was into the velodrome for the collection of the ride pack, consisting of a frame number , fluorescent bib, ankle timing chip and brevet card. By now the atmosphere was building with riders starting to mass like moths to a flame. It felt comforting to know you we not the only mad idiot and there were 6000 others. Across the site there were accents from around the globe and it felt like you were part of something big.

Final checks and bags packed we had nothing to do but eat and rest. Our start was not until 5.30pm on Sunday and this left a lot of time to kill waiting. It was agreed that we should go to the velodrome, drop the bags and find a place to lie down until the start. All around us bikes kept
coming and the enormity of the task dawned. This was a big deal. There were seasoned veterans catching up with each other and new riders like us not really knowing what to expect. Large groups from different countries posed for team photos. No sign of any such organisation for the UK entrants. We threw out all our plans for number of hours riding and sleeping and decided to go with the flow and decide when to rest as the first night unfolded.

This is actually a recumbent!

As 5.30pm approached we made our way to the starting box with our lettered group. 100 or so riders at a time were moved up and this was it, no going back now. All around the crowd cheered and the count down began. Slowly we edged forward and then over the first timing mat. Out onto the road lined with cheering people. This was it we were off. Out through the Paris suburbs we quickly left the city behind and it was into the countryside and the first night.
There are several compulsory checkpoints en route and you have to get your card stamped and timed. Starting in the evening made working out where to stop difficult. We opted for ride until tired and then sleep regardless of the distance and try to keep in sync with our body clocks. The first sleep was after 221km and after eating we crashed out on rolled up matting at the end of the tables in the food hall. Two and a half hours later it was up and back on the bikes. We left in the morning mist and were glad to feel the sun on our backs. It was part way through the second day that Steve pulled ahead. We had planned to stick together but I never thought this would last the whole way as our paces would vary. I gave in to a 10 minute power nap in a field and then another 5 minutes snooze. Not real sleep but enough to overcome the wave of tiredness and get moving again. I pushed on through to about 2am and gave up looking for Steve. It turned out he had pushed on to Brest a decision he was to regret. I sort of slept for three hours then pushed on through the morning mist into a glorious sunrise and the halfway point at Brest.
I will always remember the mist around the bridge and the feeling of elation at seeing the sea. I decided not to stop at Brest and just get my card stamped and bottles filled. There was a climb back up over a hill called the Roc and I wondered where Steve had got to. I had to keep the pedals turning and was conscious the clock was ticking.
My energy levels were replenished by a coffee and cakes and I got into a rhythm spinning along. This was broken by catching sight of a Hastings Jersey on the side of the road. Finally I had found Steve who was dozing on the verge after his marathon push to Brest. He was a bit delirious and insisted on picking blackberries when I woke him. He had a point they were delicious but there was a small matter of 500km to do.
Reunited we swapped stories of our solo rides and agreed it had been good to ride on our own for a while but it was better to be back together. The cumulative effect of the lack of sleep had got us both and it was good to have someone to talk to. Sleep deprivation was the hardest part of the ride. Highlights of the third day included drafting a combine harvester for about 15km. Not really in the rules but it was too wide to get past and we were not the only ones enjoying the rest. There was a tail wind as well which was gratefully received. We had a panic when later we thought that the distance remaining was too great in the time left. This made us push hard through checkpoints to get back on track. Day three was the longest time I have spent riding. We rode all day and night and only slept an hour before moving on. We were part of an impromptu chain gang for an hour in the night with a




German barking the timings to keep us in line. I do remember Steves voice from the back at one point saying Don't tell him your name Pike! Priceless. We broke out the flourescent glasses at one point to introduce a bit of English humour to proceedings. There were a bunch of riders who called us loco and a few delirious ones who must have thought they were hallucinating. It made us smile and took our minds off the riding.
The generosity of the public en route continued and I am eternally grateful for the coffee and food that saved me more than once.
The longest day and night was soon a memory and another hour of sleep was grabbed to keep our bodies working.
The final fourth night was spent in a sports hall at Dreux after a long drag and heavy rain shower. We had stopped for a 15 min nap about 20km out when the heavens opened and knew we had to move or get cold. Steve had the night before given up his sleeping mat and foil blanket to a Spanish rider. We had a real shock watching as he rode the white centre line weaving side to side as a lorry narrowly missed him. Steve made him stop and insisted he rested or he would get killed. This really brought home the dangers of sleep deprivation. We were later to find out he did continue but retired safely from the ride. Thanks to Steve he gets to ride another day.
You could sense the exhaustion in the hall at Dreux. Riders had the thousand yard stare and moved slowly to get food and rest. We found a space on the floor and dozed for another hour.
We had to finish by 1030am on the final day to get in under the 90 hrs and by now there was nothing going to stop is. Despite craving sleep we found a renewed energy to push the pedals. The rain came hard for a few hours and almost took the edge off the experience for me. Diving into a bar for a coffee saved it and then the clouds lifted and we found ourselves on familiar roads heading for the finish.
After such an epic experience packed with so many little moments to treasure, the end was a bit of an anti climax. They a
They are I suppose? We rode for 88hrs 42 mins and then just it stopped after 1230 km. It is only later that the sense of achievement sinks in and the months of dreaming and preparing have paid off. You get to be part of cycling history in a small but very important way.
We left our bikes outside the velodrome and went inside to hand in the brevet card with its hard earned stamps. Relinquishing this was difficult but the final act of transition from novice to joining the ranks of those who have completed PBP. There were showers and food and another floor to sleep on if you wanted it. We stayed and soaked up the final atmosphere as riders filed in during the day. Each had their own memories and would return to their corner of the world with a personal satisfaction and undoubtably a plan to return. All around I heard people talking about next time.
Yes this is a tough event that demands respect but it is achievable if you are prepared mentally. You need to be bloody minded when it gets tough and push through the tiredness but the reward is a journey that will be yours to treasure long after the legs have stopped working.
PBP completed we took the next two days to ride back to Dieppe and let the legs recover. It felt good to ride onto the ferry and head home. So for anyone reading this who is tempted, even to just ask more, I say go for it, talk to us and get out Audaxing as you never know where it will lead you. You have four years until the next PBP in 2019 so no excuse.

I want to thank Steve for sharing the experience and JV and Nigel for their company on the qualifying rides.

Jon S



   

Wednesday Chain Gang - Full Marks for Style

What wind there was last night was northerly, mostly blowing across the 22 riders that made the dark and slightly damp start of the chain gang. The assembled mass of riders split into two groups, the faster 'ultras' heading out at 19:27 with better punctuality than Southern Rail, but may be that is not saying much. The rest of us followed on shortly after, with a couple of new faces amongst the group, as well as 'old faithfuls' such as Tom N and Simon G. I did not fancy my chances in the faster group last night as I currently have man flu. No, don't worry, I'll be fine, thank you - medical back up is nearby if I need it. Yes, it is amazing I got out at all and managed to balance on a bicycle, but I was determined to make the ride. Yes, a medal would be nice.

In terms of style, the second group rotated the lead and maintained a smooth pace for the entire outward leg. It was one of the best-disciplined chain gang rides I've done - a model of safe and swift progress, with very good communication throughout. This was entirely appropriate in the conditions - light rain made the road greasy rather than wet, and I was struggling to see through my glasses, peering over them for a fog-free forward view. There was discussion at Pevensey about whether it had also been a fast ride, but I guess that will depend on individual riders' previous personal performances. I really appreciated the smooth transitions, with no-one shooting off the front, and predictable riding from everyone. Nine of us stayed together as a group after hacking up Spooky Hill, the point at which many groups can break up, so it really was a well-done ride, especially so given the unusual amount of traffic last night.

The return leg saw the faster riders set off with little pause, and a second group of six riders form in the space behind them for another smooth and efficient rotation across the marshes. We climbed up the western side of Spooky Hill at a good pace, what wind there was slightly on our left shoulders as we swept down the east side towards Normans Bay and the Star Inn. We reached the end of Herbrand Walk in good shape, having passed a friend of Michael Mawwell's on his first chain gang. We stayed together up the slope at the Cooden Hotel, the pace increasing off the top as Cooden Drive opened up before us. At this point, the man flu got the better of my legs, the blood withdrawn to keep my vital organs working. Somehow I kept going as the group pulled away from me, content to keep up a steady solo pace and glide my spaceship - sorry, bicycle - into the growing crowd of riders at the traffic lights.

There was no brief glimpse of the Bake Off in the estate agent's window this week, just some random shot of people and JCBs. Lord Buckland remarked upon the quality of his pheasant this year - apparently, they are more numerous than usual and of a larger size, perhaps because of the warmer than usual start to autumn. With the first shoot on his estate due this weekend, he offered me work as a beater - 'come along and whack a few birds in the bush with your stick' - then roared with laughter, a distinct whiff of brandy suddenly present as he slurped from his Rapha 'water' bottle. What did he mean? Neil Shier saved me from further awkwardness, asking if I was riding back 'across the wastelands' with the Eastbourne Posse.

Presently, a group of six was heading west on Cooden Drive with two new riders holding the front very nicely - sorry I didn't catch your names, but I did appreciate the tow you gave us all the way to Cooden. Lord B peeled orf at this point, his chauffeur ordering a flustered maid to dry him off with a hot towel, and a footman ready to take his bike away for new tyres and a polish. I gazed in wonder and envy - what an honour it is to ride with such a gent, his entire fortune based on plumbing for royalty - amazing! We tugged our forelocks, bowed our heads and turned at the station, perhaps each of us wondering why we too had not taken up 'taps and toilets' as our career. Neil Shier and I talked about the constraints of sitting at a desk, legs losing tone as we sit for too long, pursued by emails and phone calls. We agreed that the chain gang provides a brilliant mid-week tonic to the pressures of work.

Meanwhile, back with the plebs and peasants, we pressed on along Herbrand for the second time that night, the rain spitting gently but steadily into our faces. Neil Shier and the nameless guy from Eastbourne were looking strong as we crossed the railway line onto the marshes. I swear that at this point the rain doubled in amount and the roads were properly wet and with puddles, whereas Herbrand had been just damp. I've written before about how the temperature drops at this point, further evidence that the marshes are the remnants of a long-forgotten magical kingdom, doomed by a grumpy witch to have slightly crapper weather than the surrounding area...

Neil Shier and friend pulled away, so Tom N and I rode on together from Spooky Hill into the now heavy rain shower. Given my serious medical condition I did question the wisdom of doing a second chain gang lap, but there was nothing for it other than to continue spinning the pedals. Tom N and I bid each other farewell at Pevensey and I turned to ride back across the weirdly-wet, dark and mysterious marshes to Bexhill. Unwelcome memories of another night and of a ghostly encounter floated into my mind. I pushed the memory aside, bunched my shoulders over the handlebars and span on, a bubble of flashing red and white light travelling alone and unseen, keen to get off the marshes and home to dry clothes and hot food.

Neil S

11/10 Audax- Autumn Tints

Dave 'El supremo' Hudson has severely cut back on what audaxes he organises. This is a great shame as Dave spoils everyone with lots of lovely grub and endless cups of tea. This is the only one he now does in our area.

Our entry numbers were down a bit on last year with just myself, Malc C, Gary L, Gareth (riding with friend Dan), and Tom .

Like most local audaxes, the event started at the leisure centre at Hailsham. After a quick hot cup of tea we were off and rolling at the official 9:00 departure time.

The route headed out back to Hastings and along the weds chain-gang route back to bexhill . On the way the six of us ended up splitting into three ability groups: Gary/Tom, Steve/Malc, Gareth/Dan .

Tom On His Third Cup Of Tea!

Malc was having to ride his heavy old commuter bike so when I pulled over for a pee and to adjust my saddle I fully expected to be able to catch up with him but had forgotten just how well he rides on  the flat.

With no chance of catching Malc, I teamed up with a couple of female cyclists instead but on reaching the old town I split away from the official route up Harold road  to head up the steeper but nicer barley lane. After a moments hesitation the ladies decided to stick to the official route as the start of barley lane looked intimidatingly steep.

From there until Winchelsea I had to ride alone, passing the occasional audax rider fighting into a mild headwind from the east.

Refuelling By El Supremo!

On reaching Winchelsea we were treated to El Supremo's impressive array of snacks and hot drinks. Tom was in his element and by the time we left he had been there for about an hour, eaten several pork pies and three cups of tea.

Myself, Malc, Gary and Tom were all back together again and were soon onto the familiar 'Friday night' broad Oak drag. It seemed strange going straight over the Broad-oak junction instead of left towards Westfield. From this point on its endless rolling hills all the way to Heathfield. This is one of my favourite roads to ride, although Tom thinks the traffic makes it a bit dangerous.

Malc Suffering At 'Three Cups'!

Tom and Gary eventually pulled away from myself and Malc. The extra weight of Malc's bike plus the high mileage he had ridden this week was now beginning to tell on him. I could have ridden away from him as well but was perfectly happy repeatedly riding ahead  then waiting for him to catch up, before riding ahead again.

Turning south after Heathfield, only about ten miles of riding through some attractive villages was left. When we got to a small village name Waldron we spied an attractive pub where Gary and Tom were sitting in the sunshine enjoying a pint. It would have been rude not to join them so myself and Malc ordered some beers and enjoyed a chat, taking in the lovely autumn sunshine and waving out to all the audaxers who kept riding past the pub . Just as we finished our drinks Gareth and Dan appeared. We felt a bit guilty leaving them drinking on their own but if we had stayed we would have ended up drinking another pint and we still had seven lumpy miles plus the drive home to do.

Making The Most Of The Autumn Sunshine!

All too soon, the ride was over and it was time to hand in our brevet cards to El supremo's accolytes. Once again we guzzled several cups of tea as well as several pieces of cheese on toast that Dave was cooking over his micro grill.

The fabulous weather made this a fantastic day out, I thoroughly recommend audaxing to club members who have yet to try them .Next week lee and Tom are doing the Mid Sussex hillier audax., its too late to enter now but there is another one you can enter on 29 of November
http://www.aukweb.net/events/detail/15-363/


Steve C

9/10 Friday Night Ride- Jamie's First Ride

Earlier in the week I had been contacted by an Eastbourne  rider who was new to road cycling , named Jamie Shotter. Despite living at Eastbourne Jamie was keen to give the Friday night ride a go.

Welcome To 'The Friday Night Ride'

Having come over on the train, Jamie managed to find his way over to the Fairlight lodge for an early meet up at 7:15. The plan was that he and I would set off at 7:20 to give ourselves a ten minute start over the others. Simon thought that ten minutes would be too much but as it turned out , it wasn't quite enough!

We had warned Jamie how dangerous descending battery hill in the dark would be, and sure enough despite having a 1000 lumen front light Jamie did  find it scary and for the first time ever someone actually descended it significantly slower than myself.

Regrouping along the flat ride into the reserve we came across Mark and Alex They were riding the other way to meet up with the group but we had to inform them we were only the advanced guard and that the others were about ten minutes behind us.

It was a lovely still  but cold night , so I hastily pulled on a pair of 'Ron Hill Trackster's. These immediately warmed up my legs but I had forgotten just how rubbish these are for cycling as they kept slipping down all night requiring me to repeatedly ride one handed while the other hand tried to pull them back up.

Riding through the reserve without any headwind was easy but by now the others had started to catch us up. Fortunately they would have to stop to fix a puncture , allowing myself and jamie to get to the bottom of the Broad-Oak drag first.

The 4.5 mile climb was a bit of a shock for Jamie but he was able to ride steadily throughout. About a third of the way up, the regulars started started riding past us, and disappeared into the distance.

I was a bit worried they would all get too cold waiting for us at Broad-Oak but everyone was very understanding, remembering what it is like to be a newbie and impressed that Jamie was not only doing the ride but would also be riding all the way back to Eastbourne.

The smooth descent down through Brede was much more to Jamie's liking and after a short wait to regroup at the Doleham turn, we informed Jamie (with some mirth) that all that was left to do was a fast flat section and a 'little' hill.

Despite some encouragement from Nigel, the 'little hill' of stonestile was too much for Jamie this time but hopefully in a few weeks time he will have earned the traditional victory photo for the climb?

Steve C

Wednesday Chain Gang - Bake Off Buns

This week's chain gang saw the first properly dark start - no dramatic sunset, just the first real feel of autumn as 26 riders assembled at the shelter, ready to make a big effort on a fast training ride. 19:27 arrived and the first group of ten rolled out, riding in two neat lines along the front, singling up in the tight spots. The rotation began in earnest on Cooden Drive, the pace increasing as we pumped our pedals towards The Cooden Hotel corner.

I found myself again at the front as we nipped down the short, steep slope to the tight right hand bend, then leading out as we crank hard left onto Herbrand. A car headed towards us as we came up behind a friend of mine from my train commute. I do not know his name, but I do know his bike - it's the one I photographed in the report from two weeks ago and passed off as Lord Buckland's. 'Toot-toot!' as the first few riders swept by our eccentric friend, and then 'toot-toot-toot!!' as the rest of the group swooped around him, heading ever faster towards the shingle and the level crossing. I've tried talking to 'Mr Toot' on the train but not got very far - 'they're all f*****s', he said. Pardon? 'F*****s!'  Ok... Obviously a long-term resident of the People's' Republic of Normans Bay.

The good pace continued all the way to the Star Inn, into the slight headwind and over the bridges, past the turn to the 'PRNB' and fast to the foot of Spooky Hill. Ugh! We hammered upwards but I had that sick feeling of pushing hard and going backwards as the rest of the group went past and off the top of the hill. I was gapped by 20 metres or so. 'Come on Neil, push!', but to no avail, I could not catch the group and off they went, leaving me again to ride solo to the roundabout.

The return leg was messier, with more riders than can ride tidily ride in one group, I think. I stayed with group as far as Cooden Hotel lump, cracking some PRs on the way back. Tom left me on the slope and I rode solo thereafter, just Ivan passing me at speed and in silence on his diesel-engined single-speeder. The chat at the lights included some discussion on over-enthusiastic manoeuvres and at what point the coast into the lights should start. Not sure that discussion was fully resolved but I'm sure there will be more circumspection next week - see you there!

Neil S

Part Deux - Pre BBR & BBR - Saturday 3rd Oct- "Gourmet Special"

09:12 - Outside the 'bogs', top of Beachy Head.

(Warning: contains infantile content likely to upset the more adult members of the club.)

Outside The Beachy Head Bogs!

"I see you're wearing the 'old' Hastings kit then?"

This was a clever piece of wordplay on behalf of Patrick who was referring to the fact that I wasn't modelling the 'new' orange prototype from Tenn that I had been regularly for the last few weeks.

"No, I replied, it's in the wash."

"Oh, you mean they don't wash it for you?", he said with just a touch of sarcasm.

"Oh, no I couldn't risk that, what with the inherent risks associated with rapid braking". I said euphemistically.

You see I've only recently taken to riding commando style; I've always felt more 'secure' wearing an M and S undergarment.

It was only when I was out with young Mr Buckland a few months that I realised the error of my ways. I'd asked him if we could pull over as I was suffering major discomfort. After stopping he hopped off his bike, stood hand on hips - a bit like ' Flash' in 'Black Adder' and stared at me in dismay.

"Please tell me your not wearing pants", he demanded.

I tugged furiously at my gusset trying to prise some folds of delicate, wrinkled skin away from the seam of my M and S briefs.

"Oh, jeeze these pants are killing me", I said with watery eyes.

"Take it from me, stop wearing pants when cycling." he said with some authority.

Eventually, I managed to obtain a level of comfort and we carried on up Borham Hill.

He was right and I took his advice - such a wise old head on such young shoulders.

07:45 Normans Bay Border Crossing.

I must admit to turning up 5 minutes late -  bearing in mind I only live 200 meters away this was disgraceful and as I had absolutely no excuse I didn't bother offering one - just a simple apology.

As well as Mal C, it was great to see Patrick and Greg - two club legends who I hadn't seen for some time.

We got off to a shaky start because first of all my Oakleys steamed up - and I had to stop to take them off (being goggles they have a strap they goes around the back of my head under my chin strap requiring that I remove my helmet first - just thought I'd clear that up), then Mal C, as well as needing a 'leak' was suffering with 'technicals': his chain was dropping off with alarming regularity, and although he demonstrated great dexterity in getting it engaged with the sprockets again by doing a kind of shuffle with the pedals, he was showing the patience of Job - I would have yanked it off and whacked it against the kerb stone - all inanimate objects deserve a good thrashing now and again.

Most weeks when Tom N is taking part in a pre BBR he has a habit of just 'popping up' - this Saturday was no exception and I was not really that surprised when I saw him coming towards down Upper Dukes Drive when I was approaching the top. He sort of swung around and jumped on my wheel while offering really useful advice such as: "Nearly there, Pete, keep going", yeah, cheers Tom.

Once assembled at the top we took a bit of time to take in the view.  What was strange was that the top of 'Beachy' was crystal clear while down below was really murky - normally it is the opposite.

Once I had taken some snaps for the blog we set off for De Pauolos.

It was good to see Mal D turn up as fairly recently he had been involved in the taumatic incident in the woods at Bedgebury.  He arrived at 5 minutes to ten and ordered coffee and egg on toast: bit cheeky but we 'let him off'.

Also,in attendance, along with the Pre BBRers were Matt, Derek, Steve C and Steve D and Finley,

Steve D's Beautiful New Lime Green Planet X

The ride to Chilley was, as usual, without too much incident; although a highlight for me was the speed at which Steve D passed me going up Peatree Lane - all I saw was a flash of lime green!; he explained to me later on that it was because he didn't have any 'hill climbing gear' on his fairly new 'dream machine' and needed to get out of the pedals and 'go for it' - I suspect it was because he had heard that the 'Sausage Shop' in Catsfield had some special offers (Sorry, Steve I know that I'm pushing my luck and I don't wish to start another 'sausagegate' - here is a link for anyone who is interested The Sausage Shop.) http://www.thesausageshop.info/

Bacon Butties For Patrick!

I always find the ride across the marshes to Chilley quite a spiritual experience and it is my favorite route in the area; although it is always fraught with danger.  When cycling along this road it always pays to expect the unexpected, but even so I was quite amazed by the sight of a van with a metal structure on the back containing a spare wheel; it was sticking out out into the road well beyond the normal width of the vehicle - just right for decapitating a cyclist! - in the words of Victor Meldrew - un-be-lievable!

..And For Malc

Although we had regrouped several times, along the final few miles to Chilley, we became very spread out.  I was at the front with Mal D and Patrick and managed to stick on their wheels for some considerable time before conceding that they were just a bit too quick and dropped off to finish at my own more leisurely pace. Having placed our orders Mal D, Patrick, Matt and I sat at one table, and the others sat on the bench under the canopy and were joined by Shirley   who had recently completed a John o Groats to Lands End mega adventure - respect!!

Despite Being October, Its Still Sunny Enough For Shades!

Whilst tucking into my usual bacon and egg bap I looked over at Steve C on the bench who seemed to be suffering - his head was in his hands and he looked really uncomfortable; I concluded that the wait for his food order was just a bit too long and he was in 'meltdown'.  Quick to act I held up the 'worm' of bacon rind that was left on my plate and offered it to him:

"Steve would you like this?",

"No, it's O.K , thanks", he replied.

His face, however told a completely different story as his tongue swept across his lips and his eyes went all big.

Steve Despairs Over The Long Wait For Tea And Eccles Cake!

"Well it's here if you need it", I reassured him.

'Cream Tea' With Coke Is Heresy!

Once satiated we set off again. Tom followed me back home via The Bakery in Pevensey Bay (Tom was interested in seeing the decking I have built for myself and my neighbors and is thinking of having his own garden decked with my guidance).

 The nice young lady in the shop recognized me and said:





"Two lemon dougnuts, in a plastic bag so that you can tie them to your handlebars?"

"Correctomondo!"

(I didn't really say that, I'm not that much of an a*se)

"Yes, please", I replied.

It was then that I noticed Tom's face pressed up against the window.  I pointed at the array of cakes and silently mouthed the words:

"Would you like one?"

He pointed at the pain o chocolate whilst giving me a little smile.  We took the cakes home to share with Vicki and washed them down with coffee whilst reflecting on another happy little cycling adventure.  Please come and join us.

Peter Buss

2/10 Fri Night ride- So Tired

Riding up to the Fairlight lodge I felt as if someone had filled up the alloy tubes on my Caad 8 with lead, the bike felt so heavy and my legs so tired. I put my fatigue down to a combination of too many miles ridden over the last ten days plus having to commute all week by a 29er mtb with knobblies against some nasty head winds.

Marcus- Daemon Descender!

I must have been mentally tired as well, despite having done this ride hundreds of time I arrived at the Lodge at 7:00 instead of 7;30, so spent a chilly thirty minutes waiting for the others. 

With a dry still night, turnout was high with eight riders assembling at the lodge. We were hoping Simon G would be there as well, but after waiting  until 7:35  there was no sign of him. I immediately regretted not taking this opportunity to set off five minutes ahead of the others as my almost non existent descending skills led me to getting completely dropped down Battery Hill and I would not see the others again until we entered the reserve. 

Somewhere between the lodge and the reserve, our numbers had swelled to nine riders, with Alex  joining us.

We had a very casual paced ride through the reserve before everyone opened the throttles for the Broad- Oak drag. Unsurprisingly I was dropped by the others so severely that there was not even a sign of their flashing rear LEDS as I struggled up the drag.

Not wanting to hold the others up any-more I sailed past the group at the top (Dan told me later they had actually been glad of the rest to catch their breath) . This worked rather well as the only riders to catch me before the end of the  'Doleham Lane Cut Through' were Alex and Marcus, whose descent of  Brede valley was an incredible sight to behold (so graceful , smooth and fast). 

Regrouping once more, we set off towards Westfield and Stonestile lane. Nigel told me he felt done in and wasn't looking forward to Stonestile. I thought he was exaggerating his tiredness but sure enough both  Nigel and Dan were to pay the price of their fast pace up the Broad-Oak drag as I was able to convincingly drop them on the climb , restoring a little bit of pride at the end of the ride. 

Special mention must go to both Alex and Peter Baker who stormed up Stonestile to achieve Strava PBs for the climb .

Steve C

Wednesday Chain Gang - Fast and Smooth

"It's going to be windy" said Stewart 'Lord' Buckland. "I've had the chaps tie down the marquee and bring the ponies in." Ah, the problems of the rich, but I was more concerned what impact the weather might have on my chain gang ride. Last week's outward leg was a tough slog into a stiff wind; this week looked like it might a tough homeward ride. Ugh!

But what beautiful conditions we had last night. Yes, some north-easterly wind gave us all a shove on the way to Pevensey, but it was not so strong that you'd hide behind someone large the whole way, chin on the stem, shoulders hunched inwards. The sun was just setting as I looked from Galley Hill, slipping behind a messy splodge of orange and grey cloud in the west. At least 26 riders assembled at the shelter, in good spirits, arriving in ones and twos, lights blinking and dazzling in the twilight.

Perhaps as many as 15 of the faster riders made off at 19:28, aiming to beat the trains to the level crossing. The first section to the De La Warr, through the finally-completed pedestrian-friendly area, passed with plenty of chat, the pace steady and comfortable, before gradually increasing the speed and branching left by the Metropole Lawns. South Cliff slog was smoothly despatched before we turned left onto Cooden Drive and a more regular rotation began, following Stuart 'Awesome' Hodd's question of the group: 'Are we going to rotate at all tonight?'. The wind was a bit more helpful to us at this point and I was clinging to his Lordship's rear wheel as best I could, ending up on the front as we dropped down to the tight right-hander at the Cooden Hotel.

This section can be a bit tricky. Riders have a different approach to this corner that can make a big difference to how well the group stays together. I felt I went into the corner a bit hot, scrubbing off some speed before cranking the bike over and heading for tighter-still left turn onto Herbrand, with traffic soon bearing down on us. Riders like to attack the low rise that leads to the section open to the shingle, and so the pace did go up through another rotation as we dodged through pebbles and oncoming traffic. I found myself on the front again as we crossed the railway line, breathing hard at this stage as again the pace was raised. Some respite came as we slowed for the bridge at the Star Inn, but I was dropped soon after - I could not accelerate as hard as the group. I ground onwards, riding solo to the roundabout, taking a turn around the island.

As is now traditional, Neil Shier shared some pithy, slightly acid observations on the character of the ride so far and on my overall conduct. I had found myself behind him a few times, admiring the shine of his bike's titanium tubes and his smooth pedalling style. He's what I call a 'horse', built more heavily than the other type of rider I call 'greyhounds', using muscle-mass to propel the bike forward, whilst our whippety friends are lighter and strong for their weight. I think I'm more greyhound than horse, more lightly built, but in need of losing the weight I've added since I was 19 (9.5 stone then, 12.5 stone now). Not sure I want to be that light again, but 12 stone would be nice!

The last of the riders straggled into view as we waited, one being the cycling fashion model, Peter 'Andre' Buss. Recently hitched to his nursing home Matron (Katie), he has a new lease of life as a photo-shoot diva for cycling kit manufacturers, his latest contract taking him to the glamorous fleshpots of St Leonards, Hastings and beyond. His finely-turned ankles are greatly in demand for sock-shots (you can google that if you're careful), and his rippling torso is perfect for stretching tight the lycra dreams of Castelli, dhb and others. Well done Peter!

I rode back with the same group, ripping across the marshes at a calmer pace than last week, hanging on up Spooky Hill, helped by some oncoming traffic and a little headwind. The group split for a bit but reformed before the Star, flipping left and right over the bridge with shouts of 'clear', rotating again as we headed to the railway line. I took the front over the crossing and around the left bend on Herbrand, but I was again undone by knackered legs and the group sped on to Cooden. I settled into a good pace, looking behind me as I made the rise at Cooden Hotel. A group of lights was just at the junction, so I soon became the fox and they the hounds as I did my best to speed away.

No chance of that as Ivan the 'single-speed machine' mashed down on his pedals, with Tom 'Bianchi Bomber' Norris and another rider close behind him. Tom let me in to the group, just before Ivan stuffed me into the back of a parked car, his focus tightly on riding a dead-straight line up Cooden Drive. He set a tough pace and we struggled to get past him to take a turn, for which he later admonished us. We did manage a couple of turns each at the front, but Ivan set a consistent high pace that was hard to beat.

We pulled into the lights and the banter and ride analysis continued. My eye caught the Great British Bake Off on the telly in the estate agent's window: Mary Berry talking; a camera shot of cocoa powder and sugar; and a shot of Lord Buckland's summer lodge in the background. We discussed sources of iron in the vegan diet, Peter 'Andre' Buss's latest modelling contract, Lord B's latest bespoke bicycle plans, before heading back towards the marshes with the 'Eastbourne Massif', dropping Lord B at his custom-made Rolls Royce bicycle transporter. Peter B shouted something at me as I rode off. I presumed it was an insult of some sort and waved goodbye.

Then at Cooden, I felt a bit guilty. What if he had something sensible to say? No, it couldn't be that. So, what was the problem? Then the penny dropped - I'd left him there with Peter 'Psycho' Baker, that curly-haired scoundrel and Rye-based pirate. Matron would not be happy if Peter wasn't home in time for his Shepherd's Pie, I'd better wait for him. No sign, oh dear. What mischief was he being led into? Would he arrive home in the small hours wearing nothing but mud and a silly grin (again)? I rode back to towards town to find him, but no sign. This was really quite worrying, Matron would not be happy, but then I thought 'so what' and completed my second leg of the chain gang, leaving him to his fate. Happy days.

The ride back to Bexhill was towards a huge, orangey harvest moon, lighting the marshes with a warm glow. So far, it's been a fine autumn with great riding conditions - dry, bright and not too warm. See you next week for another cracking chain gang.

Neil S