“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
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Thursday, 20 October 2016
Friday, 14 October 2016
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
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!
‘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.
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
Tuesday, 11 October 2016
9/10 Audax- Autumn Tints
Once again it was time for the first audax of the 2016/2017 winter season, '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.
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 .
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 .
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
 |
| Patrick finds some Autumn tints |
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 |
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 |
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
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.
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 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
Sunday, 2 October 2016
London To Hastings Ride 1/Oct
Patrick decided it would be a good idea to repeat Sam’s excellent London ride before the realities of winter set in.
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| Fixing a nighttime puncture is such fun! |
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| A soggy Patrick arrives |
New club member Colin was joining us for the first time. Also joining us was Heather, a rider who had been on the same Italian cycle holiday as Patrick and happened to live relatively nearby. So Heather would do the ride down to Hastings and get the train back.
Unusually, the caveman was complaining of having tired legs (brought on by a bout of running during the week). Taking pity on him I gave him my return ticket home with the proviso that if I bailed due to the rain he would pay my train fare home.
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| Get ready for the rain! |
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| Fortunately we only had one London puncture! |
Things got much better once we got to Crystal Palace. The café was closed for demolition (they are going to build a brand new one) but fortunately a mobile café van had been set up next to it. We didn’t bother to look at the dinosaurs, it wouldn’t have been the same without the caveman. Steve D did his usual disappearing trip (he never seems to do a 100% ride with us) and had set off on his own muttering about a possible reunion back at the Velo café.
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| Steve would disappear into the ether as usual! |
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| I love this hill! |
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| Even Patrick's bike enjoyed the view! |
Post Velo house, Colin left us for a more direct route home while we pressed on. Just outside Wadhurst we realised that Malc was no longer with us. He must have missed a turn? Four frantic phone calls to Malc later and there was no answer. So we left a message telling him to follow the signs for Wadhurst and meet us at the fire station. Finding himself alone Malc had decided to bail and get the train instead. Being someone who likes to be well prepared I had brought along two powerful front lights. Seeing that the one I had used all day was now on red I pressed the button to switch on the second one. Nothing happened, it was dead! This meant that out of the five of us, only two had front lights, not good when we still had thirty miles to go and less than two hours of daylight left! I turned off the light that was working trying to save what little charge remained for later.
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| Derek riding strongly but would pay the price later! |
From Netherfield it was mostly plain sailing but Derek was now so tired that he fell a long way back on the climb out of Battle so I waited for him to catch up. He had no light and it was now getting dark. I now switched on my front light hoping there would be enough charge to get us back to Hastings.
The others were waiting for us outside Bannatynes. It was a relief to have made it back home, the weather and the lack of lights had made this ride feel like a real adventure. Heather was a stronger rider than most of the men and had really enjoyed it so hopefully she can join us again when we do this ride or others in the North downs area.
A great day, thanks to everyone who came and especially Patrick for mapping the route and leading the ride.
Steve C
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