27/12 Post Xmas Social Ride- High & Over

Our post Xmas ride over ‘high & over’  has now settled into a yearly tradition. This year we had a very good turnout of riders  with a very wide range of ages from Dan in his twenties up to Derek in his sixties.

It was Shirley who had asked me to organise the same ride as last year, so I was surprised when there was no sign of her or her brother Matt at the start! We waited a couple of extra minutes but at 9:13 we were off without them (abandoned riders one and two)

The weather was beautiful with clear blue skies, however even without the wind it was a lot colder than I expected (you know it really is cold when you see me riding with gloves over my fingerless mitts).
 

A great day to take a few snaps !

Easy steady riding took us along Turkey road and towards Watling. The further inland we rode the colder it became. It was shame we hadn’t had this cold weather on Christmas day as all the surrounding fields were covered in a white frost that looked very picturesque in all the gorgeous sunshine

Alarm bells started to ring on arriving at Horse-walk. This can be a bit treacherous even at the best of times let alone when there is a risk of ice. I concurred with Simon that it would be wise to find an alternative route and shouted out to the others to halt. However, the leading riders had already disappeared around the bend so to avoid splitting up the group I decided we would have to carry on but take it extra slow. Simon didn’t want to take the risk and so abandoned the ride (abandoned rider three).

Horse-walk was white with frost and covered in the usual road debris so I wasn’t surprised I felt my rear tyre deflating. Patrick urged the other riders to carry on and meet us at the Costa café at the Pevensey roundabout while we fixed my puncture. This one was caused by a tiny metal shard that most of the riders who don’t have myopia would never have been able to see. It was so small it was impossible to dig out of the rubber, all I could do was to blunt the end with a tube valve and hope for the best.

By the time we had caught up with the others at the café they were well entrenched and were happily ordering more coffee and snacks. Derek in particular had been suffering with the cold and needed some more time to warm up. I therefore thought it best to make this our official coffee stop rather than the one at Alfriston. Gary was frustrated at the lack of progress and despite me telling him this would be our only stop, he decided to quit the ride (abandoned rider number four). While stopped I had chance to read a message from Shirley. She had been late (again!) and decided to meet us at the De La war but had read the gpx the wrong way around, we would be passing there on the way back!

Suitably refreshed we got back on route and before long reached Alfriston where we had a quick pee stop to relieve ourselves of some of that earlier coffee. Another text message from Shirley revealed that they had left Alfriston about ten minutes earlier so I advised her to stick to the route so that we should catch-up with her before Beachy Head.

All smiles on High & Over!

Hi and Over is an awesome climb, longer than Battery Hill, although not quite as steep. Being a bit out of shape at the moment I was not surprised to come last but hopefully the others did not have to wait to long for me? On reaching the top we found out that Johnny had  abandoned with a puncture at Alfriston. This was a shame as we would have happily stayed with him to fix it if we had known but Johnny had said he didn’t want to hold up the group any further (abandoned rider number five) and had phoned home for a pick up.

Like me Malc is glad Xmas is over!

Just two massive climbs lay between us and refreshments at Beachy Head. First up was the climb up past Cuckmere Haven . The road here was resurfaced a couple of years ago and so this was an absolute pleasure to ride. After a quick regrouping, we hit the slopes of the Beachy Head climb. In the sunshine this climb was even more enjoyable than normal. One of the things I like most about it is that with all the switchbacks you can see all the riders strung out ahead. Derek and I had our own competition to see who would be last, I won! Reaching the pub I was pleased to see the familiar sight of Shirley’s bike propped up outside. Half our party now headed for home but the rest of us headed inside for some well-deserved refreshments.

Having arranged to meet up with the others at The Rocksalt at Bexhill , I was content to stay with Shirley and Matt for the remainder of the route. This was fortuitous as Matt’s front tub started to deflate. We pumped it up but as soon as the pump was taken off, the valve core came out as well. In the end we had to leave the extension hose on the valve, leaving it to flap around. This got Matt to Bexhill but by then the problem had got worse and sadly Shirley and Matt would have to abandon the chance of more drinks at Rocksalt and walk home instead.

Many thanks to all who came out and made it such a fun day. I expect we will do the same ride next year although I will replot the route to avoid Horse-walk for 2107.
Safe riding in 2017!

Steve C

30/12 /2016 Wednesday Chain Gang – Ice Cold in Sussex

Last night we had perfect conditions in every way other than the temperature – dry and little wind, but freezing, literally. This did not stop 17 riders turning up for the ‘chainy’, the fools! There followed a pre-eminently sensible discussion on the conditions, it being cold enough to freeze the eyelashes off a pig. Sluice Lane was adjudged clear of standing water and ice. We discussed the likelihood of moisture condensing on the road surface, especially the tar strips, and then freezing. We agreed that the moisture content of the air was low and that the risk was negligible. Risk assessment complete.

There were two newbies, only one of whom I managed to speak with before the start.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked.

‘I’m Rovers’ he replied. Blimey, that sounded posh, a bit like ‘Travers’ or ‘Elvers’, so I assumed he was with Lord B.

‘Listen everyone, this is Rovers!’ I announced to the freezing throng.

‘Er, no, I’m Elliot, but I ride with Rovers…’ he clarified.

How we laughed! Well, ok, how I laughed. It did make me giggle. Stewart, let me know if I need to explain the joke to you.

I said we should set off as one group, as the usual Ultras were thin on the ground and those present were reluctant, the plan being that the naturally faster riders would be off the front before long. In practice, this was me and the two newbies, both of whom were quick. I looked around for more, but one of them told me ‘it’s just us three’. Could we keep this up? Well, not with me in tow – they very politely eased off a few times to let me catch back on, but we were caught by a largish group by the Herbrand Walk level-crossing. It was good whilst it lasted.

I guess I’ll get to the point upfront; this was not a tidy chain gang. I’m not going to write a long list of do’s and don’ts here, or a long list of rules (we’re not that sort of club), just sprinkle a few reminders along the way as there has been plenty of discussion since.

First, it is better (for which you can read safer) to single-up between the Herbrand Walk level-crossing and the Star Inn. This is because the road is narrow and twisty, with two narrow bridges on it, on which cars can appear with little space or time in which to avoid them. The one nearer the Star Inn is a tight left-right, with poor vision, but the first and less obvious bridge is also hazardous. Single-up or file-up means ‘ride in single file’. Now, I am not interested in policing this, so as with all these things it is UP TO YOU to take responsibility for your actions. So, you might think it’s safe to go two-abreast at some point, or to overtake someone. Fine – that’s your decision and you can take the consequences for it. The club has been clear in what it recommends.

Anyway, from the back of the group it was clear that folk were finding it hard to find a reasonable common pace. Spooky Hill loomed large. I have learnt that it’s probably best for me to be at the back of the group for this part of the ride, as I can become a hazard to others who are stronger on the hills than me. Perhaps the spread of abilities is what led to people riding three and four abreast at the top of the slope.

Second then, is a reminder that going three or four abreast increases the risk of a crash. It’s not so much about cars at the top of Spooky – you can see car lights coming – but more about the actions of others. The road is narrow and has a crappy, pot-holed margin. Rider one, on the inside, veers to the right to avoid a yawning chasm, forcing rider two into rider three, and then into four… It couldn’t happen, you shout! Well, read on. My other concern about this sort of riding is that it leads to a feeling of ‘anything goes’ when, in fact, anything does not go (sorry).

On we rolled. I managed to catch the group on the slope (I’m much better downhill than up!) and there was a rolling turn or two. About two-thirds of the way from Spooky to the roundabout, I found myself at the front. There is a new pothole, although it’s more like a sinkhole – not very wide but deep. No time to gesture, just to shout ‘hole!’. The rider behind went over it, but survived. The rider after that survived also, but something happened in the group and a rider went down. Yep, these things happen, but two things made this a more likely occurrence – the uneven group pace and the erratic movement of riders. Thankfully, the result was some grazes and bruises, but we were travelling at a good speed and I think the rider was lucky not to hurt himself more seriously. Or, heaven forfend, his bike (shudders).

So, third, give each other space and avoid overlapping your front wheel with the rear wheel of the rider in front. If they need to flick out suddenly, you’ll be out of harm’s way. Ride consistently and smoothly; look back before you move out; let people know what you intend to do. Be consistent and communicate. To do both well you need to concentrate – this is not a wild, free-for-all, but a disciplined ride.

We made it to the roundabout and shared a number of tasteless jokes about the fallen rider and Neil Shier’s winter stockings, the gallows humour of diehard chain-gangers. I guess it is a pretty hard-core activity – I know my non-cycling friends and family think we are nuts, riding fast in the dark and cold weather. It’s a buzz, isn’t it, and that’s partly why we do it, breaking away from the constraints of work and home. But as Dan ‘Confucius’ Selmes wisely says ‘he who rides on Wednesday must work on Thursday’, and we don’t want to arrive at the office / factory / massage parlour covered in cuts and bruises, do we?

So, we do it because it’s exciting, fun and a hard midweek workout. It can be all those things and safe; nearly all of the chains have happy endings. The chains I enjoy the least are those where I have to give people ‘reminders’, or where it gets hairy. Last night was mostly just messy, rather than scary, but we had a faller and that’s one faller too many.

So, fourth, if you do get shouted at for some reason, please do not take it personally. The person shouting to you and others is doing so because:

a   They have to shout to make themselves heard.

b   They have as much adrenaline in their system as you, so words can be sharper than intended.

c   They perceive a risk in the way you are riding.

d   They want you and everyone else to have a great time – hard, fast and safe riding.

There are those in the club who would put things more forcibly, but they also acknowledge that we all make mistakes. So, allow a margin for error and exercise some give and take.

And finally, rider etiquette. As I said last week, those that can, should i.e. if you are in a well-matched group, you should take your turns at the front. That is the deal. You cannot save yourself for a sprint finish as we are NOT racing – it is a fast group training ride to prepare you for more competitive events. There is some friendly competition, but you have to earn the right by taking your turns!

Those hanging at the back should do so because they are struggling to keep up, or need a rest before their next turn. This is fine, but you need to tell the rider in front! Say ‘GO’ to them, or ‘I’m hanging on’. People ride in a group that is too tough for them in order to improve – this also is fine, although you will probably get dropped.

Malc D led us back across the marshes to Herbrand at a steadier pace, looking for our fallen comrade who we surmised had returned to Bexhill as recommended (he was not alone, and we spoke to him once we arrived). The return leg was a bit better than the outward leg, but again enthusiasm got the better of some and we ended up with three and four abreast. It’s not on chaps – we weren’t doing it a few weeks ago, so why are we doing it now?

How should you ride on the chain gang? There is a short animation on the club blog that shows you how it should work – ‘rolling turns’ that give everyone in the group a hard ride and then a rest. It’s a kind of interval training, the advantage being that you get pushed harder than you would do on your own and the group can also achieve higher speeds. This sharpens your riding skills. You can find other videos on YouTube.

Ride safely, Neil

23/11 Wednesday Chain Gang – All Good Chums

The cycling gods smiled on us this week, quickly pushing Storm Angus away to leave relatively benign weather, the only grumble being a strong wind from the east. The silver lining to this was a good following wind for the outward leg, with the prospect of a PR for the 22 riders heading to Pevensey. The Ultras rolled out first, looking a little reluctant: Nigel T moaned about his legs; Neil Shier curled his lip; and, Babs Baker just moaned about old age. Other notable updates are Tom N’s beard and ‘tache, Sue L’s blindingly bright front light and Lord Buckland’s new butler (Doris).

I do so like a following wind – it makes me feel like a half-way competent cyclist, adding the power I lack to my fast spinning legs. I felt strong, perhaps benefitting at last from a couple of weeks riding my considerably heavier Cannondale poor-weather bike. Babs said he was not riding on the front, so I did, feeling eager and energetic. I tore along Bexhill front and the Ultras were soon in view. ‘We’re not trying to catch them, are we?’ asked Simon G, and I thought ‘why not?’

Other riders soon caught up and we formed a reasonable group of ten riders that dwindled after Spooky Hill to six or seven. The group riding was a bit untidy, in part because of the wind, but also because I was pushing it, content to ride alone if need be, giving in to selfish impulses to ride fast and hard to the roundabout. Others were also putting in hard shifts – JV, Malc D, Steve B, Gareth to name a few. After Spooky, JV pulled away and I overtook Malc as we seesawed back and forth in the loose group. In the end, we came in close behind the Ultras and maybe some of us should have ridden with them.

Strava tells me this was the fastest I had ridden the outward leg of the chain gang, and it felt like it – I was coughing my lungs up, retching on phlegm – ‘orrible! Everyone else seemed ok, but they are much, much younger than me. Or maybe I was retching because Gareth and Lord B were discussing the American ‘bottom-touching’ hand signal and when best to use it. The fundamental mistake they (knowingly) make is touching other people’s behinds, instead of their own. I can’t remember what it’s supposed to mean, so let’s drop it – if you want to pat your arse, fine, just leave mine alone. I thank ewe.

The return leg started as usual with a vague sort of trickle of riders easing away from the layby. The Ultras formed up quickly and were quickly gone into the dark night, lights flashing and scattering wildlife. I fell in behind JV, both of us working hard into that now unwelcome wind that we had so enjoyed on the way out. We rotated the front every dozen or so pedal strokes and were surprised to find it was just us – no one else was in sight. This changed near the foot of Spooky as others arrived, taking the front and pulling us with them.

Fighting a head wind encourages cooperation more than anything else, I think. We rode well as a group, with those that could take a turn at the front doing so, whilst others clung to the back of the group. ‘Tis fair enough, for the most part – those that can, do, and others do the best they can.

On we rumbled, past the Star Inn, flicking around the curves to Herbrand and then onto Cooden Drive. I pushed hard up the first slope, then Steve B went past with the others in tow. We all rested in position for a stretch before restarting the rotation, pulling forcefully up and over the ‘Cooden Bump’, having earlier saluted ‘El Presidente’ as he stood at the roadside. The pace remained high as we came down the east side of the Bump and pushed hard to the lights. Tom and I found ourselves boxed in, both eager to take part in the impending man-off between Lord B, Gareth and others.

Well, they got away, leaving Tom and me to test each other on the run in. We were neck and neck, but Tom’s beardy face provided that extra bit of wind resistance and I won by a whisker (Get it? Beard – whisker? Ha-ha!)

Lord B was keen to get home (‘I’ve got servants to beat, don’t you know?’), so I turned west with him and his Battle acolyte, Adam, to ride back along Cooden Drive. Others sought refreshment at Rocksalt, eating cheesy chips washed down with lemonade, orange juice etc., whilst the more dedicated athletes amongst us continued to hone our bodies on the hard anvil of extreme effort. What’s the point of taking lard off and then putting it straight back on again, eh? Anyway, us vegans don’t eat artery-clogging cheese.

I enjoyed another wind-fuelled ride to Pevensey, trying hard not to think about the slog back to Bexhill, this time alone into the wind. It was ok, ducking as low as I could and enjoying the burn in my legs. It was at least dry and warm, so all in all a good night for a fast and demanding chain gang – just the way it should be.

It’s worth mentioning at this point a hazard between Normans Bay level crossing and the Star Inn, riding west to east, towards Bexhill. To the left is a strip of concrete that runs for 100m or so, maybe 40cm wide, partly covered with tarmac. There is a channel between the concrete and the main road surface, the perfect width to grab your front wheel and spit you off your beloved carbon masterpiece. The hazard is naturally harder to see in the dark, so can we all ride a little wider on this stretch and give riders to our left more space? One rider came off last week and he was lucky to escape with bruising. No-one’s fault, but do please be aware as also, speeds tend to be high on this stretch.

The club is having an Xmas lunch this Saturday at Di Paulos, for which you should have seen several emails. If you’ve booked, please be there as the food will be waiting for you… There will be a pre-BBR to Beachy, then a choice of rides for the BBR, from a run of c30km to a faster ride of 50km or so. Arrive at Di Paulos from 12:30 onwards to eat at 13:00. You can, of course, just come for the rides.

Patrick ‘he who calls the tune, pays the…’ Piper will soon be chasing you for your club membership fee. You will, of course, have put aside a little each week since last December to cover this vast expense. Time now to dig out the money from under the floorboards and place it in Patrick’s grateful hands. Lord B has said he will give a free glass of champers to the first ten members to pay, so there’s an exciting incentive for you; he might even stretch to a slice of pheasant pie, served hot and fresh by Doris.

Safe riding, Neil

16/11 Wednesday Chain Gang – In Touch with our Inner Woman

There was a great turn out last night with 20 riders coming out, as it were, on a warm, dry but breezy night. We faced a stiff westerly on the outward leg, with the fun of a wind-assisted return ride. We had enough riders for two groups.

The ultras went out, leaving a larger group of a dozen or so riders to labour into the wind. I rode alongside ‘Babs’ Baker and asked whether he was wearing the right blouse, more recently having ridden in his summer weight chiffon. ‘Not only the right blouse, but a thermal petticoat as well’ he shouted. He then said he would show it me later when it was ‘moist’. Speechless, I rode to the front, deciding to give him a wide berth. It was then that I felt something touch my ‘derriere’. What was going on? Ah, it was Gareth, clearly confused about the road signal for ‘pay attention’. It certainly made me do that, but you’re supposed to tap your own behind Gareth, not someone else’s. ‘Any excuse’ explained JV. Indeed.

It was hard going, with various strong riders – JV, Patrick and Babs – taking the front and pushing up the pace. The group worked really well, making for a strong and flowing ride, reducing the effect of the wind. A couple of times I had to just hang on the back of the group, catch my breath and recover some energy. This was true on Herbrand Walk, where as usual the wind was at its strongest. If you get gapped here, that can be it for the ride – you’re off the back and on your own.

We rode on, filing up (after some shouting from Babs) for the stretch from the level-crossing to the Star Inn, still at a good pace, still with good rotations. Spooky Hill loomed and with it the prospect of getting dropped. Digging deep, I managed to stay in touch with the others, Malc D sticking to my rear wheel as we dropped down the west slope and I pushed to reach the group ahead. I think Adam C was the first rider I reached, hopping in front of him to help close the gap to the next rider.

Once I reached him I swooped past, then Malc D came around me and we were in to the main group again. I managed one more rotation before there was a ‘man-off’ between JV and Gareth on the last stretch. All good fun.

The return leg was turbo-charged by the wind, with two groups forming. I love surfing the wind; it makes up for the power I lack as I can spin my legs quickly and make good speed in these conditions. JV and I rotated the front with a rider whose name I don’t know, with Babs and others putting in stints. We reached Cooden Drive in good time, then a rider came past us having sat on the back to that point. He went haring off, so we thought they were not with us. They were fast, but Babs and I did exchange words on their etiquette.

The group rode the last stretch in good form, with some jockeying for position as the last part of the ride came into view. We were also hard on the tail of our mystery rider and gaining, showing again how a group of slower riders can work together to catch faster riders. Once we came within range, we released our ‘missiles’ – JV and Gareth – to catch our ‘target’. Good work team! We reached the lights and I thought the rider was going on and therefore not one of our club, but he pulled in as a ‘displaced ultra’. Bad form old chap, if you were sitting on, to then bugger off like that.

Just a reminder that the highlight of the November social calendar is on Saturday 26th November at 12:30 (after the BBR), namely the club Christmas lunch at Di Paulos, just £10 cash on the day. However, you will need to make your menu choices by this weekend please – you should have had an email about it.

Safe riding, Neil

Third Mallorcan Velo Professionals (MVP) Report

This was the third meet of the Mallorcan Velo Professionals (MVP) and time to induct some new members into the fold. The old guard of Grand Master Feathers and his faithful ‘fun’ domestiques Patrick Piper and Peter Baker, the Caveman Tamplin, Naughty Nick and Malc C & D (A & B couldn’t make it) were joined by newbies Derek, Sue ‘Geezer’ Landy, and newlyweds Dave Morris and Dan Hanlon. We had gone a bit more up market this time and nearly spent £20 per night on our accommodation. Things went smoothly and we arrived at the brilliant Apartment Bressol in Puerto Pollensa and the supermarket was duly raided of beer, wine and crisps before people went to the equally brilliant Pinarello experience to pick up hire bikes for the three days we were there. What we did in the evening stays in Mallorca.

Day 1 saw the whole group ride off to the traditional stop off in Selva for coffee (& brandy for NN) before some of the hard types completed the climb up to the Tramuntana Mountains to the top of Sa Colabra the iconic road designed by a roller coaster freak.

 The descent is a blast and rewarded by a beautiful bay with a beach and a couple of restaurants. This preceded the fun 9.4km climb gaining 668m with average gradient 7.1% and maximum 12%. 67.9 miles 6,985 ft of climbing (unless you have Dave & Dan’s android phones which appeared to indicate they had been to the moon and back). The less hard types took a spin with the caveman to explore the Orient. All arrived back safely with the newbies crossing the ‘cobra’ off their bucket list. What we did in the evening stays in Mallorca.

Day 2 Bus to Andraxt to ride the length of Serra Tramunta back to Puerto Pollensa (with the exception of Malc C and Derek who decide to stay in the plain and get each other lost). We climbed quickly and sharply out of Andraxt and started the traverse – amazing dramatic seascaped scenery with beautiful terracotta villages with sun kissed terraced slopes. Malc D, PP, GM and I stopped for coffee at Deia and looked at the cycle sweat fest coming up the valley, whilst some stopped earlier due to being a bit puffed out, whilst Caveman blasted on to Soller as Cavemen don’t need coffee. PP, the day before in a testosterone frenzy, had decided he wanted to do an extra 3 mile descent and climb back up. He was strangely quiet when we passed the turning and started to talk about his heart rate whilst the anthem from swan lake played in the background. We tracked the caveman down hiding behind a hedge in the pretty port of Soller whilst NN and the others couldn’t be bother to cycle the 100m to come and find us and had lunch on their own. PP then hatched a plan which was to do the blouse route of the Col de Soller (7.3km 6%) back to base, although GM declared that this was not a blouse route anymore (as it was when I did it the last time) and was not a very challenging alternative. The men (Malc D, me and the newly weds) then rode the ‘pig’. The cruel Puig Major cat 1, 14 km 6.2% (nasty b******). The climb ends through at tunnel which takes you through to a fridge on the other side of the mountain requiring full thermals and riding like the clappers to get back to base via a superb (but chilly) descent (75.9 miles 7,867 ft). What we did in the evening stays in Mallorca.


Day 3 Levels of knackeredness reach epic proportions. Two rides were on offer the beautiful Cap Formentor lighthouse cruise (35 km 1000m climb) or the let’s find the flattest bit of Mallorca cruise. All with the exception of Caveman, GM, PP & I went to the lighthouse, we tried to have as many lunches in one day that we could (57.9 miles 2,451ft climbing).

The bus arrived and took us sleepy but happy to the airport.
‘Hasta la proxima vez’ Mallorca

Peter Baker

Round-up Report – Not so much the wrong weather as the wrong blouse…

It’s been a couple of weeks since I wrote a report of any sort and there has been a fair few rides in that period. Here then are reports of three recent club rides.

Pre-BBR Special to Brighton with

Last weekend saw the pre-BBR Special to Brighton, although it does not actually go to Brighton at its furthest extreme, but to Sussex University for the famed congealed beans so beloved of Peter ‘Babs - Shirley’ Baker. I’d expected maybe six riders, but was pleased to see 11 turn up: Patrick P, Stuart B, Sue L, Duncan F, Gareth P, Adam, JV, Mal C, Marcus and Simon from Australia.

It was a very cold start at Normans Bay with temperatures only a little above freezing, but compensated for by some sunshine and the promise of dry weather. Hurrah! First to arrive were Patrick and Peter, although all was not well. Babs was wearing only his lightweight summer blouse, the lovely pink and orange floral one with the ‘Vivance’ frill panel, ruffled neck and tortoise shell buttons. It’s a great looking ‘chemise’, perfect for wearing on the balcony of a Tuscany villa, but perhaps a little thin for a frosty November morning. Babs was semi-hypothermic. After the transfer of some manly body heat and stretching him out in the early morning sun, Patrick and I lifted him back on to his bike and steered him off to the garage at Pevensey for a hot drink. Oh dear, not a great start.

The gang paused near the garage whilst some of us visited Babs. He was a little more with it, but had sensibly decided to thaw out completely before heading back to Di Paulos for breakfast and a gentle ride home. He promised that next time he would wear his winter-weight blouse – the one with the wool and polyester mix panels – and we promised to fill our shorts with sticky-beans for him to enjoy on Sunday, at home in the warm. We patted him on the head and had a word with the garage staff: ‘he’s a bit vulnerable, keep an eye on him please’ and ‘he gets confused easily – call this number if he makes a scene’. We walked to the exit and looked back one last time. There he was, resting his frozen little face in his hands, thawing his nose in the steam from his hot chocolate, perhaps a little tear of disappointment glistening in his eyes. Bless.

‘What a to$$er’ said Lord B, rather unsympathetically, ‘he’s not in bloody Majorca!’ He’s so gruff sometimes. On we rolled, west across the marsh and then north to Hailsham. Having sorted out a navigation mix-up, we rolled around the Boship roundabout and through the ‘Dickers’. Sue snorted and giggled, amused by the names. ‘Oh do grow up Sue!’ admonished Duncan ‘The Vicar’ Feathers. Quite right Duncan, we don’t want that sort of thing in the club!

The temperature was slowly increasing and with it our spirits, riding at a steady pace along quiet lanes that wove through freshly ploughed fields and small hamlets. It was a beautiful moving autumn tableau of browns, golds, yellows and reds, set against patches of green leaves and scraps of blue sky. The cold was worth putting up with in order to enjoy the glorious autumn day, riding through some of Sussex’s most beautiful villages.

We rode on and eventually reached Ditchling Beacon, the first big climb of the day. I always forget how long this climb is – just when you think ‘that must be it’, it throws another slope at you. I came in third in the ‘man-off’ between me, Patrick and JV, legs and lungs burning and not really feeling the same competitive desire as them. Other more sensible riders made their way up more steadily, measuring their effort and keeping something back for the two climbs still to come – Exceat and Beachy.

But first, a fine repast was due us as reward for our sterling efforts. We swooped into the University café like vultures onto a dead zebra, flapping and squawking as we pushed and shoved our way through the throngs of starving students to the fried delights of a Michelin-starred eaterie. Well, sort of – the students were all still in bed (this was well before 12:00) and I went for the continental option of a croissant and two pain au chocolat (vegan, of course). No sooner had I sat down to eat than Sue started pestering me for one of pain au chocolats. For the sake of a quiet life, I gave in, riding the rest of the day on reduced fuel. No, it’s fine Sue, don’t worry – as I’m sure you’d point out, I do need to lose a few pounds.

The ride heads east from this stop, skirting Lewes and then taking the ‘C7’ road to Newhaven, a fast and swooping route that can be busy, but which rides quickly. We regrouped and carried on by the cycle track to Seaford, shooting down to the Golden Galleon, and then starting the long climb up from the Cuckmere. I’m not that keen on this stretch – too much traffic on a narrow road – but it went quickly enough, JV pulling past me and then trying to catch him. No chance, not got the snap in my legs; running a diesel engine these days, rather than a pokey two-stroke. Sue reported that Patrick wheel-sucked for the entire ascent and then pulled past her at Friston Ponds to take the honours. Outrageous!

I got my own back on the descent to East Dean, finding a good line and a lot of speed to make the turn and still carry momentum to pass the Tiger Inn. I can’t remember if the wind was then with me or what, but I made good time to Birling Gap. The road from there to Beachy Head has been resurfaced and is much improved over the old, pot-holed, bumpy and worn surface. I managed to keep up a good pace and JV could not catch me before the top. Finally, some honour restored.

We congregated at the car park and then, once recovered, headed back on the road to Eastbourne. The road gang was laying tarmac, but we ignored the advice of Mal C and did our best to ride on the road, almost as soon as they had rolled the road. Some sharp words from one of the road men stopped this foolery, so we went off-road for a short stretch, re-joining the road where the tarmac had ‘set’. The group then rode well together and made it as one to Normans Bay. I’d turned off for Chilley Farm for food and rode on to complete a century, still feeling strong. Stewart has proposed that next time we ride the route in reverse, but I’m not that good at riding backwards. Hey, I’ll try anything once.

Wednesday Chain Gang – Chilly and Fast Baker’s Dozen

Just 13 of us made this week’s chain gang, the rest either at home by the fire, or packing their undies for the trip to Majorca. The hardier souls among us rode as one group from the start, with the incomparable Stuart H leading the way, back to restore order to the ranks.

We rode as a good group, dropping just a few on the way to Pevensey and riding back in a similarly tight fashion. The range of class in the group is clearest near the end of each leg, with the Ultras slipping into fifth gear, turning on the turbo and accelerating away from the rest. Michael Maxwell seemed in particularly good form this week – chapeau Michael!

My second chain gang started the same as last week, riding out with Neil Shier, Ruth and Adam, with Tom taking things at a more leisurely pace. Thankfully, the head wind discouraged anything too fast and furious, but again Neil set a high pace, whilst the rest of us hung on grimly behind. I think we managed a rotation or two, but then Adam had a puncture. I was all for hitting him on the head, pushing him a ditch and selling his bike, but no – Neil and Ruth wanted to help him - sigh.

Adam changed the inner tube pretty quickly, with no obvious sign of a hole in the old tube, and no flints or glass in the tyre. Strange! He put the wheel between his legs and was thrusting away with the pump at a rhythmic tempo to inflate the tube. It’s all about timing… Tom rode up and saw Adam bent over, his right arm pumping in and out of his groin. ‘That reminds me, when I get home…’ said Tom, straight-faced. ‘Too much information, Tom’ said Neil. Ruth blushed; Adam looked confused; and I asked ‘reminds you of what?’.

Disaster averted, I eventually rode home as the temperature continued to drop and the wind picked up. I was pleased to have it at my back!

Pre-BBR and BBR – ‘It’s Saturday – Let’s Spend Five Hours out in the Rain’

Baron Buss has returned from his late summer visit to his country estate in France, and looks rather, well, French – one eyebrow raised, Gauloises hanging from the left of his mouth and a rather bandy-legged stance. Thus he stood at the Normans Bay level crossing, greeting Charlie and I with a shrug and an ‘allo’. This has happened before, but it usually wears off after a few weeks back in Blighty. This was, however, Charlie’s first Pre-BBR. I’m not sure Peter was making the impression that the club would want him to make.

Only a few brave souls tuned up for a very wet BBR

No matter, we three brave Musketeers sallied forth into the teeth of a nasty headwind. Charlie and Peter ‘Baron’ Buss were seemingly not affected by the wind and I struggled to keep up. The buggers! I worked hard to take a turn at the front, then we turned south to Pevensey Bay and met the full-force of the wind. Ugh! I was not ‘feeling it’ as they say, my legs were lacking oomph and the wind was playing havoc with my willpower.

We struggled to the Hotel and turned right and west, so the wind was more across us than against us. This made for a more comfortable ride on the long stretch from Pevensey to Seaside, before we again turned south, down Princes Drive, where the wind hits you straight from the sea. I got as low as I could and mashed the pedals. ‘This-can’t-last-forever’ I said to myself through gritted teeth.

We turned along the coast and made the foot of Dukes Drive more easily, Charlie showing impressive strength to make off up the hill ahead of me. The road has been completely re-laid, apart from one 10m stretch – no idea why this has been left! Charlie stopped to look at it; I rode straight on, therefore ‘winning’ the race to the top. Ha! Then the rain started in earnest, heavy and persistent, lashed by the wind. Yuk. Well, at least the wind was with us for the return leg to Di Paulos and we made good speed all the way back. Good, but soggy.

There were other brave souls in the café, as well as Steve Curtis. I quickly realised that we had another ‘wrong blouse’ situation on our hands. Steve was wearing his favourite early-autumn blouse, suitable only for a very light shower in mild weather (you know the one – it has blue and white kittens on it, playing with bits of wool, and it drops off the left shoulder). This was his excuse for turning around and going home. What example is this to the younger and newer members of the club - skulking off home at the first sign of some moisture in the air?

Well, perhaps discretion is the better part of valour. The remaining half-dozen rode out into the rain and wind, hunched over, grimacing, moaning, swearing, grunting – water spraying off our wheels and dripping off our soaked clothes. Oh joy, what fun. Well, it was warm enough, as long as you kept moving.

Ambitions were suitably trimmed. No Chilley Farm, but a planned stop at Pevensey Bay café. Catsfield was reached fairly easily, then down and up to Boreham Hill, pausing to check the mood of the group. Damp, was the conclusion.

Not much else to say really.  Chris, Peter and I rode to the café, the first two stopping. The others went their separate ways at Rickney Farm, scuttering home through swirling drizzle and heavy drops from the trees. Mustn’t grumble really, we’ve had a fantastic two months of generally dry and warm weather. Saturday was a really Novemberish day, bracketed by a Friday and Sunday hung with glorious sunshine. Fingers crossed that from now until March it rains only at night, if it must rain at all!

Neil

6/11 ESCA Reliability Trial

It was time once again for the ESCA reliability trial. This is the most popular reliability trial of the year and gives a chance to ride with members of all the other cycle clubs in East Sussex (120 riders entered this year).

The weather was bitterly cold for early November and on arriving at the HQ in Hassocks, the car windscreens were still covered in ice. Peter Br and Mick were already there, sitting near an electric radiant heater trying to keep warm.

The event is superbly organised and at our allotted time our little posse of seven riders were off. Our big worry was hitting a patch of ice but fortunately the sun was out so the tarmac had warmed up sufficiently to allay these fears.

The first 15 miles or so were mostly flat with a few undulations. I am in reasonable shape at the moment but being the heaviest rider, every time we came to a hill I fell out of the group a little but was was able to get back in on the next descent.

Things started to get a lot more hilly once we entered Ashdown forest where we embarked on the long steady climb from Nutley towards Whych cross. I always enjoy this type of steady climb and despite getting dropped at the beginning I was able to  reel in Duncan F before the end. Duncan is a strong rider so this was surprising but later I found out that Duncan had done the Brighton pre-BBR special the day before and had not eaten anything for breakfast!

Cob Lane was a bit of a shock

So far we had seen no other clubs but finally we caught sight of one group ahead of us on a  steep climb leading to the first check point. We rapidly overtook them and I heard one rider exclaim' these guys make us look like we are standing still'. This was a boost for our egos. At the checkpoint the marshal gleefully muttered something about Cob Lane but we weren't really paying much attention .

A couple of miles later ,what looked like a wall suddenly appeared in front of us. This was the famous 'Cob lane' and the 20% warning sign told us the next few minutes were going to be painful! Thank goodness I have a 32 toothed cassette at the back, this enabled me to honk my way up. Colin's front derailleur refused to change gear, so he ground to a halt near the bottom. The others had already gone by the time I reached the top of the climb but I waited for Colin to make sure he didn't get lost.

The others had waited ahead so we were soon all back together. The terrain was very undulating by now and we were now surrounded by riders from other groups which made it more competitive and fun .

A marshal at the second checkpoint informed us that there were no more surprises in store and that the last twelve miles were mostly flat or downhill. My second glucose gel had now been absorbed and feeling a rush of energy I pushed up the pace and led from the front for the next eight miles. This was in contrast to Colin who was now beginning to suffer the repercussions of not having ridden on the the road for over a month.

Darren is in good form

The last five miles were a bit of a struggle. My little energy boost was over, Malc and Duncan were feeling the effects of riding the Brighton special and Mick also started to run out of energy. Only Peter and Darren seemed unaffected.By coincidence we were riding on the same day as the London to Brighton vintage rally so there were some long queues on some of the roads cutting across this route. We didn't mind too much though as it was interesting seeing some amazing vehicles pass by .

Our chosen target time was 3 hours and 30 minutes. To gain a point a rider has to arrive before this time but not more than 10 minutes early. We arrived with just two minutes to spare, so had timed it perfectly.This gave us a total of 7 points and point us in 4th place out of 11 East Sussex clubs, so despite the absence of the 'A'team this year, this was one of our best results.

As always we were very impressed with the organisation of the ESCA and really appreciated all the free tea and food at the end (especially Duncan who was absolutely famished)

Duncan and Malc really appreciated the food at the end. 

Steve C

Wednesday Chain Gang – Shirley lets rip and the Return of the Baron

A cold, dry and still night saw 22 riders assemble for what proved to be a fast chain gang. Not many records were broken as there was no breeze to inflate our speeds.  Instead, the average speeds were high and consistent, making for a harder workout, I think. The cold proved not to be to everyone’s liking, with some struggling for air as the cold hit their lungs and tightened their breathing. I’d used my inhaler before coming out, so I was ok (I have a TUE, of course, and it’s not a steroid spray), but needed it again when I got to bed.

Anyway, a rather reluctant group of ultras was sent up the road, grumbling about the cold, but ten or so went off a little late. Frankly, we need the most excellent Stuart H to inject some backbone to this group; they’re becoming rather prima donna-ish. Whip ‘em into shape Stu!

 The second group followed on, more or less as one group, with Ruth taking the front and setting a fast pace. I managed to get to the front and what proved to be a good rotation began, with a consistently high pace throughout. JV was riding strongly and Peter ‘Shirley’ Baker was also putting in some good shifts. Everyone pulled their weight and kept the speed high without breaking the group.

 As is now the custom, we filed-up after the Herbrand level-crossing on the narrow, twisty stretch to the Star Inn. The problem is there is not much time to get back into single-file if a car comes towards you. It gets messy and rushed, and so it proved again last night when some riders went down the outside before the Inn and met traffic coming the other way. I don’t think it’s worth the risk, but perhaps the front two or three riders could quickly rotate so that the lead rider doesn’t do too much work!

 Having safely negotiated the bridge at the Inn, we resumed a tidier rotation and sped on to Spooky Hill. I was at the front as we hit the base, then at the back by time we reached the top! I managed to hang on and caught JVs wheel as we went down the hill and rejoined the rest of the group. Riding a fluent through and off was difficult as the traffic diverted from the closed Coast Road (Pevensey Bay to Normans Bay, moon craters and all) is using Sluice Lane instead. One or two riders would make the front and then another car or three would come around a bend. In the end, without saying anything, we filed-up for the last stretches to the roundabout, abandoning any further rotations.

The return leg set off as one group with a few faster riders going ahead, before the main group formed. Some people struggling with the cold, but I loved it last night and I felt strong. We settled into another rotation once we had absorbed some stray riders, bombing up Spooky and down the eastern side, swooping around the bend before the level-crossing and riding on fast to the Inn. We filed-up as usual and just as well – a car was on the bridge. ‘CAR’ we screamed as one, startling the customers smoking outside the pub, breaking to avoid a collision. Once the hazard was smoothly negotiated, we pushed on for Herbrand Walk, keeping the pace high and the movements smooth. Well, mostly – ‘Shirley’ Baker (the curly hair?) was a little too keen and went flying off the front a couple of times - she really is a feisty little thing!

 One on Cooden Drive, we again played catch up with ‘Shirley’, shooting past ‘El Presidente’ and giving the club salute. What salute, you say? All enquiries to Patrick Baker, the membership secretary, and whilst we’re at it, your club subs will be due soon! Patrick was also riding strongly last night, especially on the outward leg, stretching the group just enough to make the speed demanding but achievable.

The ride down the east slope of the Cooden Bump allows us to pick up speed and more or less maintain that all the way to the lights. I felt strong enough to take the front and confident initially that I would lead the group in. But JV had other ideas, coming past me with strength to spare. That’s cool – he’s a strong rider, having come back really well after breaking his wrist earlier this year.

 The Eastbourne and other riders soon made off and I went with them. Neil S took the front and accelerated to warp speed. I politely suggested that he slow down and rode to the front to have a chat. Before I knew it, we were back up to warp speed seven, tyres smoking and clothes ripping as we flew towards the Cooden Beach Hotel. I had no chance to bid his Lordship a good evening as we pelted forward down Herbrand. Neil S took the front and stayed there, with me, Ruth and Tom N hanging on the back.

 Gradually, he tired just enough to let me get on the front and we managed to rotate the lead between us all the way to the roundabout. Tom was left some way back; Adam and Ruth stayed tucked in and I do not blame them! My average speed at this point was just under 35kph, a rare occurrence for me – it was certainly the fastest second leg I’ve done! Hard work but exhilarating.

 This Saturday sees the Pre-BBR Special to Brighton, leaving from Normans Bay at 07:45. Looks like good weather, if rather cold! Hope to see you there.

 The Return of the Baron – ‘Is It Safe?’

 I rode home from Pevensey Bay alone, feeling strong but a little hungry and tired. The phone rang as I was tucking into my vegan almond and vegetable bake. Who the..?

 ‘Eez it safe?’ said someone with a strange accent, an odd mix of sarf London and French.

‘Excuse me?’

‘I sed, eez it safe?’

 And then I twigged. It was the Baron. Was it time already for him to return from his business trip?

 ‘Er, well, I think so, I mean there’s too much traffic on Sluice Lane and Beachy Head road is being re-laid, but…’ I was cut short.

‘Shut it mush! I mean, is it safe to come back, is the house being watched, have you taken the shipment?’

I had no idea what he was talking about, so I just said ‘yes’. Frankly, I’m not sure his medication is strong enough, he’s becoming a little unstable.

‘Right, get the boys together and meet me on the beach.’

‘Er, beach? What beach? Are you swimming home?’

‘SHUT. IT! You’re for the chop when I get back, you’re doing my swede.’

I decided it was best not to aggravate him further, so I said ‘yes, I’ll get the boys together and we will meet you on the beach.’

‘Good. Remember to bring my dressing gown and hot water bottle. And I want a bed time story, something by Agatha Christie would be nice. It’ll be good to be back.’

 ‘Yes Peter, something by Agatha Christie’, I mumbled, thinking that Enid Blyton would be a better bet. ‘Are you staying long?’ I asked.

 ‘Yes, staying for Crimbo, otherwise Santa won’t know where I am and I won’t get any pressies. Matron will be pleased.’ Oh heavens, it’s going to be a long winter.



Safe riding, Neil

Wednesday Chain Gang - Nifty Ninja Nightriders

“You know where you are with a south-westerly” said Babs Baker on the BBR and we all nodded in agreement, having endured a week of easterlies. This week’s chain gang had a northerly, but we are not yet at the time of year when it will bring snow. However, perhaps this remote possibility had worried some of our more delicate colleagues as we had just 14 riders at the shelter. This didn’t make it any easier to get the ride started as many were deeply engrossed in conversation, on what I do not know.  “Let’s go!” I bellowed, clapping my hands like a ballet teacher.


Off we rolled as a single unit that soon broke into smaller groups, the speed quickly winding up. I found myself in the front in a group of four. “We’re a four” shouted someone, which is a mistake. As soon as you say that, other riders will appear, and this week was no exception. We were now a six, with George W, Dan S, Babs, JV, me and another in the team (sorry, I asked your name, you told me and I cannot remember it). It was not the tidiest chain gang I’ve ridden in. Neither was it the messiest, but it was certainly pretty fast.


Anyone who has ridden with George will know that he is very quick. Once we got to Spooky Hill, he went off the front with one other, the rest of us largely unable to get past him to the front. If we had we would only have slowed him down, so I didn’t mind. The remaining four rolled upward and then I fell back, with a gap of about 20m to JV. I pelted down the west side and caught his wheel before the gap got too big to recover.


The two riders in front of him had also made a gap which went out to maybe 100m. John and I worked hard as a twosome to reach them. For a while, we gained on them as they hit a patch of wind, but then we met the same breeze and were pushed back, unable to make much headway. Near the final straight we pushed on harder, but they had too much of a lead for us to catch them, so we rode in side by side, honours shared.


We waited at the roundabout for the last two riders to arrive, joking about how we would ride off when they got back and they would get no rest. That’s exactly what we did, I afraid to say. The group took a little while to sort itself out and to pick up speed. George and another dropped us before Spooky, where I again came off the back, and again caught the group on the downhill side.


On we rattled, swopping safely over the bridge at the Star and riding tidily to the level-crossing. I felt strong, when I wasn’t going uphill… Too strong perhaps as I went off the front a couple of times, eager to catch the two riders ahead. The group were reluctant and called me back. Does Wiggins have this problem? I suppose he has asthma and allergies to sorry about instead. Tut!


 I found myself at the head of the group as we climbed away from Cooden. The group resettled as we passed ‘El Presidente’, giving him the club salute as we sped by. There were six or seven of us and I think we were well-matched in speed and strength, keeping it together up the Cooden Lump and then down the other side, the pace rising steadily. My enthusiasm encouraged me to go for home a bit too far out, topping out at 50kph. I thought I was home free, but I then realised how much further I had to go and started to tire. JV caught me and eased by – I tried to knock him off, but he got away. Only joking! I let him go, encouraged him, you know.


Babs Baked congratulated me on my awesome strength and speed and I felt quite overcome with emotion – it was the nicest thing he’s ever said to me. “He’s being sarcastic, Neil…” chipped in Gareth. Oh. Bastard! He then asked me if I would join him for a lemonade, but my mum told me never to accept drinks from men with beards, and besides he’s a rude old drag queen.


I decided on a solo loop of the chain gang route, the wind feeling that bit stronger as I rode alone along Cooden Drive to Herbrand Walk, turning right onto the marsh and feeling that sudden drop in temperature that we are all familiar with. It was a nice night; not cold yet really and it was dry. The wind was mostly across me, slightly more with me that against on the return leg. The waning Hunter’s Moon appeared briefly and lit the marsh with silver-white light; a fox cried out and the reeds rustled gently in the night air.


I still felt good, so once I got back to Bexhill I did another short loop to Cooden and eventually turned for home. A good midweek 60km ride – half at high-speed and half at a more leisurely pace – and then a short spin on Thursday to set me up for the weekend.


Now, just a reminder about the pre-BBR: I can confirm that it is on every week! No need to ask, there is always someone there willing to ride out from Normans Bay at 07:45 on Saturday morning, returning via Beachy Head to Di Paulos to meet the BBR gang. On 5th November there will be a pre-BBR ‘Special’ to Brighton, a ride of 130km or so from Bexhill.


Safe riding, Nelly

11/10 Chain Gang on the club’s 140th Anniversary – Great Celebration at Rocksalt

Pride, they say, comes before a fall. In other words, life likes to kick you in the arse just as you get ahead, so I’ll keep this low key… However, it’s worth noting that the club membership is at the highest level in living memory and the chain gang has this year seen record numbers of people. We are organising and sharing more rides for a variety of abilities and tastes. And we have fresh supplies of our rather fetching kit, so perhaps we can puff our chests out a little on the occasion of the club’s 140th anniversary.

Enticed with offers of post-ride cheesy chips and beer, we had around 30 riders on the chain gang start line, sending just five or so up the road as ‘ultras’, before the rest of us followed en masse. I found myself alone at the front with a helpful easterly breeze on my back, but was soon joined by Lord Buckland and then ‘Babs’ Baker, Dan S and Dave. We rode very well as a group, with really good communication and neat rotation, with Dave riding strongly and skilfully despite being new to fast group riding. We hoovered up Tom Norris just the other side of Herbrand Walk level crossing and sped on in single file until past the Star Inn. Dan rode doggedly throughout this section, until I could relieve him.

Spooky Hill loomed and we maintained a good pace, dropping Dave at this point before swooping back down into the marsh. We rode on maintaining our good form, when we were unexpectedly caught by a following group. This broke the rhythm somewhat as they had a different riding style. I nearly broad-sided the first of them to arrive as the rider said nothing, just appearing alongside me as I began my ride down the outside. Talk to me, people!

The return leg had a messier start as people jockeyed for position, with some riders determined to shelter behind a larger rider, if one could be found. I settled into a group with Lord B and Dan again, and a number of others. To be honest, the wind was not too bad, helped as we were by Malc D – the ‘Silent Shadow’ - putting in a shift on the front along Herbrand. The group worked pretty well for the length of Cooden Drive, with a good ‘man-off’ at the end between Lord B and ‘the rider with no name’. I think I saw his Lordship give his opponent a brisk wallop with a riding crop as he passed him, but I couldn’t swear to it.

Without much ado, we stacked our bikes at Rocksalt and piled inside for beer and chips. It was a good turnout and Rocksalt did us proud, providing stacks of tasty goodies in recognition of the event, for which we are very grateful. I didn’t think the assembled throng of lycra-clad athletes would get through it all, but we did the food justice. Good effort team and thanks again Rocksalt!

Chris had the club shield with him, the one you can see part of on the club blog, and said a few well-chosen words to mark the occasion, to which we raised our glasses in raucous approval. Andy was on hand with the latest batch of club kit; I am now the proud owner of a club shirt and really chuffed with it. Lord B found my efforts to make a PayPal payment, without glasses but with a pint of Guinness inside me (I’m a complete lightweight), painful to watch, the phone screen a bigger blur than usual. I got there eventually…

‘Have another drink Neil.’
‘No Stewart, that’s it, I’m done, no more.’
‘A half then?’
‘No! Oh go on then.’
He returned with a pint. Oh dear, this would be tricky. I’d have to drink it – it would be rude not to – but I knew there could be consequences. I already had a stupid grin on my face, so I decided to eat more food to soak it up. Tom N looked on with amusement; Dave Morris twitched his moustache, a twinkle in his eye; and Nick S took a photo.

‘Are you ready?’ said Tom.
‘I’m shreddy’ I replied.
We completed a moonlit celebratory ride to Pevensey roundabout before parting company. The wind had picked up and I made a chillier and slower ride back to Bexhill, grateful for the chance to clear my head and to reflect on being with the club on its 140th anniversary.

It’s also the 140th anniversary of the Battle of Little Big Horn and, more relevant, the calliper brake. Life has changed a bit since 1876: jobs, clothes, health and housing to name but a few. But as cyclists we measure the years and the pace of change in bicycles. 140 years ago your bike could still have been wooden, but was probably a steel and iron penny-farthing. The tyres were solid, you did not have gears and brakes were very, VERY basic. The safety bicycle, bringing the triangulated frame and equal size wheels, was not invented by John Starley for another nine years. Pneumatic tyres had been invented, but were not in use until John Dunlop ‘reinvented’ them in 1887; a derailleur of sorts was invented in 1885 but available only on the ‘Whippet’ safety bicycle. Thank you Wikipedia.

Jumping forward a 100 years and you’ll find the first ‘modern’ aluminium bikes were on sale in 1975, and the first carbon fibre bikes have been around since 1976. We now have electronic shifters, disc brakes and amazing LED lights. What will the next 25 years bring, I wonder? And we spend large amounts of money buying and maintaining our machines, as well as the clothing (no more tweed, unless you’re Duncan F) and accessories that are ‘essential’ to our sport. There are worse things to spend your money on, which brings me back to beer.

‘Where have you been, Mr P***head?’
‘Er, cycling, with Tom, to Pevensey.’
‘Why did it take so long?’
‘Er, I don’t know, perhaps I was going more slowerly than I think, I mean thought (burp).’
‘Hmm, and where is his Lordship in this sorry story?’
‘Er, well, his chauffeur took him home.’ (This is true, Dave M is Lord B’s chauffeur – check out the ‘tash and the dapper kit! And it’s also true that the maids had to put him straight to bed).
‘Oh I see, and he thought he’d leave you to ride around in this state, did he?’
‘Er….’ An answer to this I could not find, other than ‘yes, he callously and carelessly left me to ride home and I’m 140 years old.’
‘Yes, I see… Right, I’ll have words with his Lordship!’ Sorry Stewart – maybe now is a good time to take a holiday?

 Here’s to another 140 years of Hastings and St Leonard’s Cycling Club!
PS For the safety conscious, I should clarify that all alcohol-related anecdotes in this blog have been exaggerated for dramatic effect. I was at all times fully compos mentis and in complete control of my bicycle.

 Neil

9/10 Audax- Autumn Tints

Once again it was time for the first audax of the 2016/2017 winter season, 'Autumn Tints'.

Patrick finds some Autumn tints

For those that have yet to partake in an audax, these rides are just like a sportive but without the hefty price tag. Unlike a sportive the route is not marked out so a garmin is essential and there is no sweep wagon. They tend to attract the somewhat older and more eccentric types of cyclist which is one of the reasons why I enjoy them so much.

Of all the local audaxes, this is one of the easiest and also most generous with food/tea supplied at the start, middle and end.

A welcome pattern has emerged in the club where the superfit riders like Patrick or Duncan will ride to and from the start at their own pace, while riding the actual audax with the main group. This means everyone gets the appropriate workout.

We had a really good turnout this year of around a dozen riders. Tom had set off lone wolf and Gareth was riding round with some friends from work but the rest of us all rode together for the first leg to Winchelsea. It was pretty cold and the glorious sunshine had yet to warm us up so it wasn't a surprise when we only got as far as bexhill before our first pee stop.

Derek on top form

Rather than take the main road through Ore village I guided everyone up Barley lane instead. This is a much nicer way up but he first bit is brutally steep so I did feel a bit guilty about Shirley who still hasn't mastered the art of honking on the pedals .

Shirley loves riding on thedrops

Before long we arrived at Winchelsea where Dave Hudson (El Supremo) had laid on the usual array of treats for everyone. There were ample quantities of sausage rolls, sandwiches, mini pizzas and endless cups of tea. Sitting chatting on a plastic chair in the sun I completely lost track of time and it took repeated calls from Patrick to get me moving again.

The second half of the route is very different. It takes the B roads over towards Heathfield and so is very lumpy. Derek was having one of his best ever road days. Having lost a stone over the summer he was pleased to find that this year  he could comfortably ride ahead  with the A team . Malc C was also pleased to find himself coping much better with all the
  hills. It looks like all those early morning pre BBRs have really paid off. Shirley has missed quite a lot of riding over the summer due to a house move plus becoming a grandmother for the first time, so to keep up she had to dig deep and suffer more than was ideal.

I must admit to finding this route tougher than I remembered from last year but it really is a wonderful event finished off with even more food at the end. For half of us the ride was over but I didn't envy the A team as they set off for a quick blast home along the coast .

Regrouping with the A team at Netherfield

Many thanks to the organisers for organising such a great event and Dave for all the tea and food. You can check out other Audax events here
http://www.aukweb.net/

Steve C

Pisa & Pasta Tour.

23rd Dec 2015 lunchtime in the Velo Café Tunbridge Wells, ‘Let me get you breakfast Pete’, they do amazing poached eggs here’, Poached eggs on toast twice, an Americano and a latte duly ordered I realise I have come out without any money. ‘So when I said get you breakfast, what I meant was order breakfast for us both for you to pay’ - an honest mistake anyone could make. The conversation turns to the 1st Majorca trip in a month previous. ‘We should definitely do that again in February, what about the summer?’ ‘Rather than the obvious Lejog (potentially cold, wet, and windy), I’ve found a tour from Pisa to Sicily, the company organises the hotels and provides the route you don’t even have to carry your own luggage. Planning sorted for 2016 we ate our poached eggs and road back home.
 Arriving in Pisa on a Thursday afternoon, by now our party had expanded to include Grand Master (Duncan) and a motley Crew of audaxers, some all the gear and no idea types, an iron man triathlete and some almost normal people too. Dom part owner of Bike Adventures advised that he’d need to make 2 trips from the airport to the hotel as we wouldn’t all fit in the minibus. Spotting a bar we duly volunteered to wait. Having sunk the first beer and ordered the second the minibus arrived back to take us to the hotel. Not wanting to create a bad impression on the first day we left the second beer and loaded our bikes. 30 minutes later we were unpacking bike boxes and checking gear shift function, that sorted we heady for the wonky landmark.

Day 1 – We assembled for the briefing – There will be roads, junctions – some of them busy, traffic, cafes and restaurants 100 miles, but only 3000ft of climbing.
Feeling invigorated and wanting to get on with it I lead the group out of Pisa, which by the time we’d be riding for 2 hours and the talk had turned to coffee had shank to 6 (us three, Heather who joined us for London Hastings, Chris Duncan’s NBF (new best friend) and Andrew who struggled with navigation. Pete confident in his language skills marched into the café and ordered 2 lattes and an expresso doppio, leaving the rest of the group to fend for themselves. A few minutes later Duncan was discussing with Pete how he’d expected their lattes to be a little stronger in fact he couldn’t taste the coffee at all. Andrew explained that Latte is the Italian for milk so perhaps next time they should try ordering a café latte or an expresso on the side.
The day continued with more long straight flat roads – it’s a roman thing you know, littered, literally with piles of rubbish which when piled to so high they obscured the view of the Mediterranean beyond, allowed us to focus on the overly made up young ladies sitting on plastic chairs in every layby. ‘Why don’t they all sit together and wait for the bus, and why do they bring their own chairs?’ asked Pete. ‘They’re not waiting for a bus Pete’. ‘Oh’.
Eventually 80miles in Duncan and I as previously arranged, suggested a Gelato stop as the route would now head inland. By this point Chris had decided he wanted some me time and dropped off the back of the group – shortly after Pete had asked if as well as being Duncan’s NBF he was also providing a FWB service. So whilst Pete, Heather and Andrew went for Gelato, Duncan I pulled our budgie smugglers from the pockets of our cycling tops, changed and took a refreshing swim.

Day – 2 Preparing to set off having eaten one to few croissants, we enquired if anyone would like to join our group again – silence may be golden but it didn’t seem so at that moment. The first 40 miles were relatively flat so we headed off at pace determined to make it to the café first. A wise precaution, as when we got there we enquired of the proprietor if he’d be serving any food. He pointed to the four remaining cakes, so we took these along with coke and coffee and sat in the shade to see who’d arrive next. It was Heather and Corrie (yes more than one female on a cycling holiday in fact there were 3 in the group). Having finished our cakes, the last, we thought it best to push on before they realised. The second half of the day was punctuated with Gravel tracks and Dom in the minibus offering to refill bidons as there were no shops or cafes. Arriving at our hotel with private beach, before the minibus and hence our bags we were forced to improvise.

Day 3 – A morning spent climbing to a beautiful hill top town was rewarded with a coffee with a view, and a wonderful descent followed by lunch in bar where we again managed to eat the cakes before Heather and Corrie arrived. In the afternoon more young ladies with plastic chairs lined the roads as we cycled the scenic way round 3 sides of Rome Airport, before finally reaching the Hotel PingPong. Duncan had secured a prime room with a sea view to continue his wooing of Chris – I’m not sure what went on that night but the next morning our departure was delayed by a whole in his tube.

Day 4 – Another long flat day flanking the Mediterranean. Spurning the beach cafes and shacks we pushed on to find a proper restaurant. We found it, it was closed and the next, and the one after that. Finally I spotted a garage with a little shack behind et voila – Freshly cooked ‘Pasta allo Scoglio’, with an enigmatic view of the petrol pumps thrown in for free.

Feeling replete we pushed on, and made it to our hotel, this time with its own private beach in time for a swim Although, we nearly drowned Duncan when he asked if our room too had a large sea view balcony?

Day 5 – The mid point and an easy day, cycling mostly inland to avoid Naples and arrive at Pompeii our destination by 2pm. Most (all apart from me, who had seen the ruins last year), went and did the tourist thing, whilst I settled in for a serious afternoons swimming in the pool, beer drinking, and sun bathing. This later activity more complicated than expected due to the Italian sun loungers. Knowing how much Dom had enjoyed being phoned to go back and help someone mend a puncture the previous day, and decided it best to seek Chris (not Duncan’s NBF, but the other tour leader) out to help with some technical assistance.

Day 6 – After a flat start we faced with a 7mile climb before going through a tunnel to be greeted with our 1st glance of the Amalfi coast. Pete continued his Alpine form and was first to the summit, I arrived shortly later professing the need to stop and take photo’s of the bay of Naples, with Grand Master bringing up the rear muttering about a bad night with Chris (lover’s tif?)
The descent down to Amalfi has to be one of the most spectacular roads in the world to ride a bicycle, and no amount of photo’s can do it justice.
 
 

Bidons refilled in the fountain in Amalfi we continued past the Greek ruins in Paestum.

Day 7 – Ouch
After one too many beers and then another one to make sure, we had returned to our room to find the aircon not working. Awakening hot sweaty and dehydrated was not the ideal preparation for what was the hardest day (100miles 7500ft). This doesn’t sound that bad, but a mile from the start there were four ½ miles sections of 30%. It was on the second of these glancing down at my Garmin I realised I was in trouble HR 205 – less than ideal. We made it up all 4 ramps together but by the time we were at the top I knew it would be a long day. In true Captain Oaks fashion I told Pete and Duncan to go on without me as I needed to go at my own pace today. Stopping at the next shop I drank the remainder of both bidons and refilled them, remembering from MVP part 1 , when I’d had a similar if marginally less severe issue that rehydrating was the key. Consuming 1.5 litres of water every 20 miles I needed stop frequently – but not for that reason! We’d planned to lunch together at 60miles, but again the restaurant was closed, so at 62 miles when I spotted a garage and thought I try my luck again. Certainly not Gourmet cuisine, but still very welcome.

Whilst tucking into my focaccia, coke and water, Pete rang and I was surprised to learn they were only 2 miles further on in a cafe, so having completed lunch number  1, I pushed on to have lunch 2. Our hotel that day was another beach front affair with Dom finally taking note of our complaints, moving Duncan to a rear facing room, leaving Pete and I to enjoy the sea views for once.


Day 8 – 112 miles 600f0ft – The plastic chair seated scantily clad ladies were back, but they were competing for attention with the beautiful Mediteranean

Day 9 – A short ride to the ferry, and an even shorter ferry crossing to Messina (home town of Vicenzo Nibali), and we were in Sicily. Escaping the traffic filled streets we were pleased to soon again be following the Med on our left for a change. The final day was an anti-climax, with the realisation that we wouldn’t be spending tomorrow on the bike lunching on spaghetti alle vongole.
Final Notes:
- Would I do another cycling tour? – Yes, already planning for 2017
- What’s Italy like? -  Some of it’s beautiful, most of it isn’t.
- Would I use Bike Adventures again? – Yes, but will also consider unassisted

Patrick