Wednesday Chain Gang - Double-Dozen Wind-Warriors

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jamie's Garmin navigation took some sorting out!

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

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

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


Safe riding, Neil