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