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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Safe riding, Neil