15/11 ESCA Reliability Trial

It was time for the annual ESCA reliability trail.We managed to field a team of eight riders which isn't too bad historically but our contribution rather pails into insignificance when measured against  clubs such as Eastbourne Rovers who managed an impressive 38 entrants!

Quick Last Minute Adjustment For Shirley's Steed!

We had three different ability groups. First time reliability riders Shirley and Justin were in the 4 hour group, myself Tom and Malc C were in the 3.5 hour group, while Patrick Gareth and Malc D were in the 3 hour group.

Justin And Shirley Set Off On Their First Reliability trial!

After waving goodbye to Shirley and Justin my group had a thirty minute wait before it was time for the 3.5 hour riders to set off . There was quite a large group waiting for the off but for some strange reason the timekeeper set us off first and said that we were late? This meant that for the first eight miles or so we saw no other riders. Riding down a very long straight road called the 'Broyle Side' I wandered if it was going to be like this all the way round? The only exciting thing that happened was when Malc C broke a spoke which we had to bend around another spoke to stop it flapping about.

Riding through Ringmer myself and Tom got  a little ahead of Malc C and slowed down for him to catch up. Somehow Tom managed to do a low speed tumble while still attached (Shirley style) to his pedals. Tom's amusement at this was cut short when I looked up to see a massive group of mainly 'Lewes Wanders'  approaching at speed. Shouting a warning to Tom I hastily set off worried that I would be caught up in a clash of alloy and carbon. For the next half hour we managed to stay with this large group enjoying the slipstream effect of so many riders, only for them to pull away from us on some unnamed hill.

After an unpromising start the route was becoming really enjoyable. The organisers had managed to plot a route without 'shitty little lanes' and there were plenty of moderate hills. Malc C was suffering a bit today and thought it was really hilly but riding in my favourite ( mild winter) conditions I was finding it pretty easy.

The 3.5 Hour Group At Checkpoint Two!

Somewhere up ahead were Shirley and Justin. Shirley is not fast but she does have tremendous endurance and like me was finding the route easy. Justin has never ridden further than BBR before and so started to suffer with painful legs after thirty miles but with Shirley's encouragement managed to keep going ( they must have been going quite well as we failed to catch them up )

There were three check points on route but thankfully none of those annoying questions that some organisers make you answer. On the last one we were just getting our cards stamped when the familiar figures of Gareth, Malc C and Patrick arrived. They had caught us up having put in an impressive pace that Patrick said he had had difficulty maintaining. Also there was the mercurial figure of steve D. Steve seems to make a habit of appearing out of nowhere on many of these types of rides.

All that was left was an easy mainly downhill descent for 7 miles.Ourselves and lots of riders from various clubs cruised along at a gentle pace towards East Hoathley . Lulled into a semi comatose decent by the gentle whirr of a dozen or so chains and wheels, I suddenly realised there were only five minutes left and we still had over 1.5 miles to do and the last bit was on a bit of a climb. Determined not to miss out on being reliable; myself, Tom and Malc C had to make one more big effort and arrived at the finish with less than two minutes to spare. The fast group had to hold back for a while before they also crossed the finish in a reliable time. Shirley and Justin had also met their 4 hour time so HSLCC may not have had a large turnout but at least the club are 100% reliable. 

Celebrating Our 100% reliability Ride At 'The Kings Head'!

Steve C

13/11 Friday Night Ride- 'Bunny Hop'

Duncan Is Getting In Good Shape For Majorca!

Good clear weather and use of Facebook brought out a solid number of eight riders for the Friday night ride.This included Duncan who had seen the posting on Facebook and decided to come out despite having already ridden back from Brighton that afternoon. He declared the extra climbing  would be good training for Pete Baker's Majorca trip .

I am now in the habit of setting off a little earlier than the others so that I can safely get down Battery hill at my own pace without holding anyone up. This time I left two minutes early rather than one. This worked out perfectly as I had an enjoyable steady decent and the others didn't catch me up until we were near to the entry for the reserve.

Ultra rider Stu Hodd was in a chatty mood and rode with me some way back from the others through the reserve.  Despite now being a cat 2 rider Stu said he was happy just to do a steady ride as his body was completely knackered having finally reached the 40 points needed for qualification. Next year may be a bit easier for him as he only needs 25 points to maintain this status. Unbeknown to myself and Stu a little drama was unfolding up ahead. A rabbit darted across directly into Nathan's path, there was no time to react and Nathan hit it straight on, causing the rabbit to spin up in the air and land directly under Dan's back wheel! Riders and bike emerged unscathed from this incident but the rabbit would not have been so lucky (poor thing!)

The long drag up to Broad-Oak felt particularly  hard and long  but at least this time I had a companion,as Mark was riding his heavy disc equipped Whyte Suffolk which slowed him down considerably.

Reaching the junction we were greeted with a road closed sign and a works van stopping vehicles entering Brede hill. Stu persuaded the friendly van driver to let us through and we enjoyed an almost traffic free journey all the way to Stonestile. An enjoyable nights ride and some fast sections that helped Michael Maxwell gain a Strava PB for the whole route.

Steve C

Part Deux - Wednesday Chain Gang 'We'll all be talking Chinese one day'

10:27 P.M  - Normans Bay

"Are you coming to bed now, darling?", asked a tired Vicki

"Won't be long bunny, I'll just finish this email", I replied

"Who on earth are you emailing at this time of night?"

"Xi Jinping",

"Who?",

"Xi Jinping; he's president of The People's Republic of China"

Vicki, now too tired to react.

"Well do hurry up your cocoas getting cold"

"No, don't worry, I shan't be long"

I surveyed my handiwork:

Dear Sir/President Jinping,

(not a bad start I thought, very respectful)

It is with much interest that I have been following, on the news, your recent state visit to the U.K. where you hope to forge closer trade links with both countries.

My purpose for writing to you is to enquire if you would also be interested in improving trade with my country: The People's RepubIic of Normans Bay (PRNB.)  Although you are a country of 1.357 billion people and we are merely 70 residents, I do feel we have much to offer - Normans Bay is very rich in mineral deposits!.  However, before we can even consider trade links I do feel you need to resolve your quality control issue.  Take for example, my Cree 5000 lm, front cycle lamp which I purchased from a well know auction site.  I chose this item in preference to German or Swedish offerings because I had every confidence in the quality of the Chinese products and the fact that it was only a quarter of the price had no bearing on my decision.   I am quite disappointed, then that this item, which cost me in excess of £12,  has only lasted two years.  I admit that I have used it in all weathers for commuting as well as recreational cycling, but do not feel it has the longevity I would of expected.

I wish to add that I am very much a fan of things Chinesy; in fact I would say that prawn balls with special fried rice and egg foo yung is one of my all time favourite dishes.

With much respect

Mr Peter Buss
People's Republic of Normans Bay

Not bad at all - I shall 'fire it off' in the morning.  Bay

06:45 P.M - Normans

As I was leaving for the Chain Gang my front light went off!.

"Oh, b@ll@cks!""

Good Turn Out Despite The Wind!

I tried thwacking it with my gloves - Gestapo style, but not a flicker from the b*stard (the three green lights were still illuminated so I knew it wasn't the battery pack).

"Oh, scrotums!"

'Click', 'Clack', I made my way up the garden path and back to the house. 'Clip', 'Clop' I went over the walnut flooring in the hallway - luckily Vicki was engrossed on the computer (probably doing cushion research for our new french pad) otherwise I would have definitely got 'one in the ear' for wearing cleats indoors but she seemed unaware as I reached into the desk drawer and got my newly acquired 'Moon' ebay specials.  I switched them on, attached them to the bars and set off for Bexhill.  It was only when I reached the darkness of Sluice Lane that I became aware that the output was woefully inadequate.  I went to adjust them from level one to three when I realised I had them on upside down, I tried to press the button but with gloved hands I would have had more chance of rolling a 'fag'.  Stubbornly I pressed on, blind as a bat but without the sonar guidance. I was also frightened to put them on full beam as I was concerned that I would use up all the 'juice' and be totally without lights before the end of the evening.  I nearly ended up in a heap when I took the wrong turn just past the Star; although there appears to be only one choice , the other option is into the short drive of the mobile home that sits on the corner (look out for it next time you are passing), I wavered put stayed upright. The relief of reaching  the lamp lights of Cooden drive was so great that although I am not a religious man I found myself doing the classic cross of the hand associated with the Catholic Church: spectacles - testicles - wallet - watch.

Rare Appearance From Steve B On His Fixie

As Neil has pointed out in his blog, there was a great turnout despite the nasty windy conditions.  By the time I reached the short incline of South Cliff I was at the back apart from Steve C and Steve D.  The latter Steve whizzed past me with a cheery:

"What, you cream crackered?"

"No, I'm just ****ed", I replied

Although I would never describe myself as a great cyclist, I do have my moments; but not tonight I was struggling.

Part way along Herbrand, just as I was about to curse 'these p*xy lights', Steve went past and said:

"You can see what what you're doing now!"

Oh, the relief!.

"I can't go on the front, Steve, I can't see jack sh*t"

"Oh, don't worry, we can just use my light"

This reminded me of the line in the 'Two Little Boys' Song' - by the man we no longer talk about:

"There's room on my horse for two"

So feeling no pain I sat on Steve's wheel all the way to the roundabout.

On the way back I again found myself relying on Steve's light.  Quite frankly I 'sucked him dry' (I think I may have found a better expression than that) all way to the lights of Cooden Drive, when I spotted Steve D just ahead of us.

"Thanks for the tow Steve, but let's get Denny!"

Quite understandably Steve, who had done all the work thus far, wasn't able to follow, whereas I  was now feeling quite rested.  Around about the second 'lump' I passed him with a equally cheery:

"Need a push Steve?"  

Was this childish?, yes!
Was it unnecessary?, yes!
Did it feel good, Oh, yes!

"I've already done this route once today", he said.

"So have I, I go this way to work", I replied; not be outdone.

To be fair he had a big ride earlier including Beachy and was now chilling (I did check his Strava entry and can confirm that he had made a big effort earlier in day whereas I had only done a flat 14 mile commute.)  

'Lets just share the final stretch then?", I offered.

"Certainly, it's not a race after all",

I then made sure I arrived back at the lights just ahead of him!

Steve C arrived shortly afterwards;

"Did you catch him then?"

"Oh, yes" and I felt my chest swell by just a small amount.

As I said last week, there is much drama to be had at the back of the Chain Gang.

Peter Buss

P.S
The 5000 LM Cree lights mentioned earlier are amazing value at £16 and I ordered another one immediately, also, as Neil pointed out, the £7 Moon copies are bright enough to light the road if you put them on the highest setting - again, great value and probably the same as the real Moon lights at a quarter of the price.

Wednesday Chain Gang - Double Dozen in Dazzling Dash!

There was a great turn out last night, with 24 riders ready to bravely face a strong south westerly wind. An earlier trip around Bexhill had prepared me for the wind, but we were all keen to get out for our fast mid-week training session, perhaps thinking more about the wind-assisted return leg than the outward grind. The group was in such good spirits that it was too busy talking to notice the time, until the utterly awesome Stuart Hodd called us to order and rolled out with the ultra-fasts.

Even The 'Awesome' Stuart Hodd Can Suffer A Pre Chain-Gang Puncture

The rest of us waited long enough for the smell of burning rubber to dissipate before riding out after them - heads down and teeth gritted for a tough outward leg in which we would need to work together to reduce the pain. The second group made good headway, despite the wind, with Tom 'Iron Legs' Norris forcing the pace along the sea front, up South Cliff and westward on Cooden Drive. It was more than I could do to keep up and, despite closing the gap by the Cooden Hotel, I was soon dropped to make a solo ride across the marsh, chasing the distant red light of another rider dropped from that group.

The wind was a strong and persistent bully. I made myself as small as I could and welcomed any respite I could find - the bungalows and beach huts on Herbrand; the hedgerows leading to the Star Inn; and the flint walls near Spooky Hill. I span onwards up Spooky Hill, reaching the top and being hit by the wind. I dropped back down to the marsh, before turning west again into the teeth of the gale. Bloody Hell.

A big crowd of riders was waiting at the roundabout for me and the other stragglers, chatting and drinking before starting the return journey. Peter Buss and Steve C came into view and the ultras took this as their cue to head back to Bexhill. Right... here we go again, but at least the wind would be with me, a friend now and not a foe.

The faster riders split away near Spooky Hill and I fell in with a small group that I did not immediately recognise. Greatly relieved to have the wind at my back, I rode up the west slope at a decent lick, only to become aware of a ticking-clicking noise growing stronger on my right side. Could it be..? Yes, the flat-back came into the periphery of my vision and I knew that Tom was overtaking me, his dicky bottom-bracket announcing his presence as surely as, well, an announcement. I pressed a bit harder on the pedals, but he got past me, making a 'neeeoooowwwww' noise, such as small boys make when pretending to be racing cars.

It annoyed the hell out of me and, at that moment, I hated him. I shouted that I was 'going to get the little bastard' to Simon G and pelted after him. We reached the flat top of the hill and I waited a moment so that I would have the momentum of the downward east slope before riding past him, leaning into his ear and shouting 'NEEEOOOOWWWWW!!!!'. It felt GOOD! Ha! Tom made a range of noises designed to put me off my pedal stroke, but I ignored him (I know his tricks of old) and kept pushing on, my temper subsiding as quickly as it had flared up.

Great Performance From Newbie Jamie On Only His Second Chain-gang

Tom passed me again and I realised we were now playing the 'neeeoooowwwww' game in earnest, as he again made that ridiculous sound. F***, I'm not having that... So, I passed him again and, yes, made a short, sharp 'neeooowwww' sound as we neared the level crossing. On we rode, alternating the lead in our petty but strangely rewarding duel, with Simon G hanging on as we rode fast along Herbrand. On one pass, I was too out of breath and on the edge of laughter to make the noise - Tom complimented me on my restraint.

I led as we reached the turn onto Cooden Drive, the three of us jockeyed for position as we hit the short climb up from the hotel. I went wide to keep my speed up, but went too far out to avoid the drain cover. Simon pulled ahead with Tom behind him, so I rode to his right to box him in, but he slipped out and made a gap of 20 metres or so as we reached the top. 'Let's get him!' I shouted to Simon, my arch-nemesis from last year, but now my ally against the evil Bianchi Bomber. Tom was riding strongly and we had to work hard for the length of Cooden Drive to catch him, but catch him we did, slapping him on the back of the head as we went by. For good measure, I also eased past Simon. Ridiculous, but fun, and good to feel like I'd worked really hard.

With the drama of the ride behind us Tom, Peter and I rode back to Cooden. Peter had no front light, his tarmac-melting headlamps having packed up after 18 months of near-daily use. He now has just the  'Ebay Special' Moon copies from China, but they are very good actually, although they shine brightly rather than throwing light forward. They are small and cheap enough to buy two, having one in your pocket as a back-up. Bargain.

We paused at the border with Normans Bay, the searchlight sweeping no-man's land and the guards shouting insults in their strange, guttural tongue. We ignored them and admired Tom's new rear light - no more zip-ties, shock! It looks very neat, one of those 'shield' lights, from memory. Peter explained that Steve 'Gadget' Ferguson was not out because he had some electrical problems and did we know a decent electrician who could help him? I suggested that Steve had probably overloaded his RCD board with an inverted power surge, plugging in all his lights, cameras, bike computers and bar-end indicators at the same time. Peter and Tom nodded in sage agreement.

We then listened at length to Peter's complicated pre-BBR and BBR arrangements, and how one was on a Sunday and not a Saturday, the 'special' to Brighton, but that was a one-off, not setting a precedent, and.... I was woken by Tom saying we should head off now as it was starting to get light.

We rode a two-man chain to the roundabout into a strengthening wind and talked about (whispers...) new bikes. Gulp. We are both thinking about something for the winter, perhaps with disc brakes and a loud paint job, perhaps able to take mudguards, perhaps also made from some alien-technology material that makes a frame weighing less than a pound. Then I remembered that there are already frames that weight not much more than that. Just amazing, when you think about it - the weight of half a bag of sugar and capable of bearing a bloke of 14 stone travelling at 50mph down a bumpy hill. Actually, when I consider that I think I might like a frame with a bit more beef to it!

Neil

November 7- Saturday's Bacon Butty Ride (BBR)

Nine intrepid riders assembled at Di Paulos between 9:30 and 10:00, enthusiastically tucking into coffee and cake, and rather less enthusiastically getting their act together for what they expected to be a wet ride. Chris Parker, club secretary, gave a few of the more reluctant folk some encouragement and we eventually rolled out at about 10:10. But hey, who is keeping score here - we do this for fun!

Our merry band had two junior riders (Theo and Fabien) and a returning Ollie (young adult..?), back from a year off the bike. I think he could have picked a better day for his first road ride, but at this time of year dry days become increasingly rare. Last week's BBR also saw a good number of younger riders, something we really welcome. It was great also to see Shirley, late of her epic Lands End to John O'Groats adventure, braving the elements with some style - chapeau Shirley! The ride is a great opportunity to ride with experienced cyclists over a mix of road conditions and weather, perhaps testing yourself against some of the faster riders or going at a pace of your choosing.

Malc D was looking lean and mean on his fixie as he led a breakaway group of Theo, Ollie and me  into a fairly strong headwind, along the sea front to Cooden. Turning north at the Cooden Beach Hotel brought the wind to our backs. We surfed the breeze past the golf club and through the more exclusive back roads of Little Common and . From there, we headed north west-ish to the ancient woodlands of High Woods, then up-hill and down-dale to Hooe Common. The group was splitting and reforming according to speed, the head-on south-westerly wind sorting us according to strength and stamina.

Having sprinted up Peter Buss Hill, we pressed on down Kiln Lane, taking extra care in the more challenging surface conditions this lane presents, before hopping over to the Horsebridge lane to Jacob's Ladder (the steep climb into Wartling). This is preceded by a technical descent that demands concentration and good handling skills to avoid potholes, a loose surface and overhanging plants. The group gave each other space and respected the risks this presents, before busting our lungs up the short, steep climb to The Lamb Inn's car park. Malc D proved strong out of the saddle, closely followed by Theo, who nipped by me as I lost traction on a patch of wet leaves, such is my awesome power (yeah right Neil).

Malc D employed Theo's young eyes to help him spot the puncture he picked up on the ascent, before Chris P said 'meet you at the cafe', giving the faster riders licence to ride at a higher pace. We set off with Theo and Ollie close behind us, turning at The Bull (not all the navigation points are pubs, dear reader) and heading towards Herstmonceux and the turn towards the church. This busier road is at least wide enough to allow traffic to pass safely but we were soon back on lanes bordered by reeds and ditches, bent low into an increasingly strong wind. A squall of rain barrelled over us, the water at least clean, if cold, but it was a short-lived shower.

The section of the ride that heads south from near Cricketers Lane to the junction near Rickney Farm is one of my favourite stretches. In summer, the landscape is as beautifully striking as it is simple - tall brown and green reeds, blue sky, green fields and mirror-smooth waterways reflecting the blueness back to the sun. In winter, the beauty is a more acquired taste - the sky often a boiling mass of grey cloud, the reeds shorter, bent-over red and gold, the surface of the ditches chased this way and that. The narrow lane demands close attention - its surface is scarred by heavy farm trailers and bad weather - but it is always rewarding. Sharp bends, snappy slopes and short straights make this a linear crit race. The wind was smack in my face today, making it a hard slog as I tried to hang on to Malc D's wheel, with Theo and Ollie close behind me.

The turn eastwards towards Chilley Farm provided a welcome respite from that intense session, the wind again pushing us along at a good pace as it rippled through the reeds and hedgerows to our left and right. The verges were free this week of Range Rovers and horse boxes, the hunt having a week off, or perhaps chasing a scent somewhere else in the county. We turned into Chilley Farm for more coffee and for bacon butties, egg baps, sausage rolls, flapjacks, cans of coke, a box of fudge and a cheese scone. Had we really consumed so many calories in the ride from Di Paulos that we needed this amount of food to make it home? I'm not sure we did, but as well as the ride providing a great chance for fresh air, it provides a chance to enjoy the treats that (I presume...) most of use sacrifice during the week. Well, maybe!

Look What The BBR Has Done To Neil's Lovely Shiny TCR!

Mal C, Steve 'Gadget' Ferguson and I set off back to Bexhill before the others as we were getting cold, enjoying an 15km wind-assisted blast home to hot showers and, er, more food. We'd certainly earned the fast return, having slogged hard on the outward leg, and I guess we may have deserved more tuck once we were clean and dry.

'Angels With Dirty Faces'....Well Gadget And Malc Anyway!

The more regular BBR riders will know that those strong in the leg and thick in the head do a ride before the BBR (the 'Pre-BBR'), either to Beachy Head, or (as today) a flatter route around the lanes. The pace is faster and the ride generally more demanding than the BBR, typically 50km in length (that's 30 miles in old money), arriving at Di Paulos for well-earned refreshment at 9:30. Given the forecast for this morning, you could be forgiven for thinking that the pre-BBR would be cancelled, but no-siree - Mal C, Steve F and I all made it to the Normans Bay starting point at 7:45. Mal talked Steve and I out of doing Beachy Head today as he feared the wind would be an undue hindrance on the long drag to the start of Dukes Drive (the start of the Beachy Head climb-proper). We gave in reluctantly, keen not to make the poor chap suffer too much.

Our Intrepid Author Remains Fresh Faced!

The flatter route takes in more marshy lanes and, as a result, a lot of mucky standing water. The rain mostly held-off and the wind was tolerable, but for the riders behind my mudguard-less bike, the result was a rather amusing speckled effect that covered faces and clothes in neat brown spots. Steve seemed to come off the worst, riding behind both Mal and me. Our backsides were also heavily covered in mud, our lower halves wet-through and our bikes looked a right state. Surely proof - if indeed proof were needed - that each of us needs a titanium winter bike capable of taking mudguards. 'Yes!' I hear you chorus - you will be quoted in my negotiations on this point...

 As ever, the tough outward leg into the headwind was rewarded with a firm push by the wind, all the way from Pevensey to Bexhill. Up to a point, the only limit on our speed was how fast we could spin our little hairy legs -we felt bionic. Well, semi-bionic with some bits falling off. I waved them off at Galley Hill as they returned to St Leonards, dripping as they pedalled and covered in wet, slimy mud. Ah, so many bikes to ride on so many roads and not nearly enough time. Best keep at it then.


Regards, Neil

Part Deux - Wednesday Chain Gang"

"Not a bad drop of red that!"

"Oh, do cheer up you miserable ****!"

I aimed this at Neil who had been rather tetchy all evening.  I had begun to suspect 'she' was in one of 'her' moods when 'she' got really irritated with me when I made a simple request at the traffic lights in Bexhill, before setting off for Normans Bay, to:

"Give me a couple of secs".

This seemed to really irritate him - it probably didn't help that I said it twice as I thought he hadn't heard me."Yes, ALL RIGHT!", was his grumpy response. I had also noted that I hadn't received one of his usual confirmation of CG attendance texts that always start with a cheery: "Morning chummy.."

Tom, Neil, 'Gadget' And Malc A Few Days Earlier!

As well as myself and Neil, Steve F ('Gadget') and Tom were also gathered at the Normans Bay border crossing. While discussing the CG, and other less important topics, I took a glance at the bar tape on Tom's bike which was hanging down like a leper's foreskin.

"Have you thought about re-taping that Tom?"

"Nah, can't be a*sed", he replied, and then added:

"Can you send me that photo you took of our wall?"

Does Simon Approve Of 'The Bianci Bombers' Wall Building?

He was referring to the impressive structure we had built between us on our Tuesday night bricklaying course. Out of complete self-indulgence, and because I don't have any photos from the CG I have included a picture, I have cropped my end of the wall so as not to embarrass Tom , because, unlike his, it is straight.  We're very excited abut our newly acquired skill of laying BOEs (that's brick on edge to you 'know nothings') and 'soldiers' (there's really no need to comment Simon G)


07:12 P.M - A few days ago - Normans Bay

'Pop....glug....,glug....glug'

"I've been thinking, sweetie, for Christmas would you like me to buy you a new helmet and shoes to go with the new bike you're going to buy in France?", asked Vicki

I examined the delicious looking red liquid in the glass, held it up to the light and took a small sip.

"Ahhhh"

"Are you listening?"

"Oh, sorry bunny - yes that would be great", I replied.

I'm going to enjoy this I thought.

"What would be a reasonable amount to spend?"

I sucked the air in through my teeth and shook my head.

"Well even going mid-range we'd be looking at £250 for the shoes and another £200 for the helmet."

"O.k, no problem so if I give you £200 that should cover it then?."

"Absolutely, thank you, very kind of you, I'll start researching"

07:21 P.M Wednesday evening - The Shelter, Bexhill Seafront.

On the way to the Chain Gang I had decided I would undertake some helmet research.

There was a modest turnout of 10 people.  I spotted Nigel and sauntered over.

"Do you mind me asking about your helmet, are you happy with it - does it perform well?", I inquired.

"Not really, it attracts flies and it's got too many holes in it", he replied.

He then made a 'buzzing' sound and poked his fingers into the holes.

"See?"

It was then that the proverbial 'penny dropped'!.  I could see upon closer examination that he had made the helmet himself from a colander more normally associated with straining cabbage!.  He had cleverly machined the holes bigger and attached a chin strap made from old boot laces.  It was starting to make sense. I had noticed recently that Nigel has taken to wearing more upmarket designer brands and had discarded his more normal Aldi 'gear' I guess that in order to recuperate costs he had decided to save money on the helmet.  I suppose there is a price to pay for a more comfortable gusset.

I then asked Stewart B if he was happy with his helmet.  He has a lovely red 'Kask'.

"It's'alright." was all I got; never a man to waste words.

It was time for the 'off'.  We had decided to go as one group bearing in mind the small numbers, but quickly became stretched out.  By South Cliff I was in a select group of me, Steve F and a newbie called Paul.  Steve and I were taking turns on the front, but Paul who was new to this was 'sussing' things out.

By the time we reached Herbrand I saw a figure in front and I pulled our group close enough to see it was Tom. Through his body language he invited us to 'jump on', but then shot off too fast for us to keep up!.  The three of us continued alone until shortly after 'Spooky' when I was suddenly overtaken by another cyclist - it was John V.  Quelle surprise! (this accounted for the whiff of flux that I had thought, originally, was imagined.)  We then formed a decent chain all the way to the roundabout.  I thanked him for the help and he thanked us for the tow up 'Spooky'.  Paul apologised for not taking a turn on the front, but we quickly reassured him that as it was his first outing we wouldn't of expected him to - mind you he then explained that he had just got back from cycling in Tenerife! - "Well, **** me", I thought - if you can cycle up Mount Teide you can manage a pootle along the seafront! - he seems like a nice chap anyway and I quite liked him; I hope he comes again next week.

After a too brief recovery we set off for the return.  I must admit I really enjoyed the homeward leg - it felt unpressurised and at the same time was quite pacy - it was also accompanied with an almost balmy breeze.
It was good that towards the end Paul joined in the rotations, but nearing the end of Cooden Drive he 'Carpe diemed' and in an moment of audacity he went for it and tried to get to the lights first - 'over my dead body' sunshine!.  My sinewy old legs span into action, I flicked the turbo switch and arrived first! That felt good - even at the back of the Chain Gang real drama is unfolding.

Peter Buss

'Wednesday Chain Gang - Warmer, Wetter, Slower'

It had to happen. The last two chain gangs have dodged heavy morning downpours, with enough wind and sun in the afternoon to dry the roads, but last night we were not so lucky. So, not surprisingly, numbers were down on previous weeks, with just 11 riders making the start.

"It's the hard-core tonight" said Stuart, and he was right, although I suspect that as autumn becomes winter there will be rides that are rather more hard-core than last night. It was warm enough for the wet not to bother me and the rain could have been heavier. Gathered in and around the shelter, we didn't look or sound that enthusiastic, truth be told, but we rolled out as one group at 19:27 in reasonable spirits - it is always better to be moving than standing in the rain (discuss). As is now traditional for chain gang rides, there are again roadworks and traffic lights at the De La Warr. Goodness knows what they are doing now or how long they will be at it.

On we rolled with Barney and Stuart up-front, with me and Lord B making the second row; he wanted me to hold his champagne glass as we rode but I told him I wasn't his bloody valet. He looked a little shocked but he soon recovered his composure. We rolled in a tight formation all the way to South Cliff, but still did not get the 'twirly finger' signal from the front two that tells us it is time to rotate the front. "Shall we rotate Stuart?" I asked, shouting through a curtain of rain and wind. "No" was his reply. I'm not sure where we did start (perhaps on Herbrand Walk), where the wind and rain were at their worst. We seemed to be holding together well as a group, although in those conditions I was not looking behind me.

The absence of mudguards on all but one bike meant we were all liberally splattered with water and grit as we splashed through plenty of standing water on the marsh lanes. The pace seemed reasonable as we cycled past the Star Inn and Normans Bay, and I found myself at the front of the group as we hit the foot of Spooky Hill. Let's face it, it's not much of a hill, is it? It's a reasonably sharp but short rise but, as usual, it did for me. I went backwards as the group went forwards, and within a minute I was cycling alone to the Pevensey roundabout. At least I am consistently crap at getting quickly up that hill.

At the layby, we were magically a group of 15, as late riders joined us, including Tom N and John V. Having listened to Michael M thoroughly disrespect his elders, 'heaviers' and 'slowers', we set off as one group again. All was good until Spooky, when again I went into reverse as everyone else found their turbo boost button. Bastards. Another solo ride back to the traffic lights... At least I now had the wind with me and I whipped along at a merry speed. The solo-slogs are so much harder into a cold easterly, so I am grateful for that small mercy.

On I span through Cooden and along the Drive, arriving at the lights and to a sarcy comment from Tom N, something along the lines of 'where have you been Grandad?'. "I'm not responding to that" was my sniffy, grumpy reply. Peter B and Steve 'gadget' Ferguson arrived presently, the latter bedecked with a dazzling array of lights, cameras and other equipment. I was gazing in puzzlement, trying to assess both the weight and drag coefficient, when Peter piped up with 'two secs'. Before I could reply, he said it again. "Yes Peter, fine" I replied, but he said it a third time - 'two secs'. How annoying is that? I think he caught my irritated look, because he said it a fourth time. At this point, I threatened violence, perhaps even murder, should he say it again. 'Two secs'... Steve  Gadget stepped between us to prevent a nasty scene. Meanwhile, Tom 'broken gadgets' Norris has set off for Eastbourne.

Steve 'Gadget' Ferguson

Suddenly, Peter B was ready. I explained to Steve  Gadget that I have to escort him back his nursing home. "Who escorts you then?" he said, with a wry grin. More disrespect, but he tagged along anyway as we pushed on to catch Tom before Collington Station. We rolled along, chatting and joking, giving out abuse (a necessary part of male bonding activities, I find) and enjoying a drier ride along Herbrand than we had the first time. Tom's front light died, so he rode behind me. Tom's rear light died. I couldn't be both in front and behind him, so when we stopped at Normans Bay for Tom to change the batteries for his front light, Peter fiddled about with his rear. Oh sorry, I meant 'rear light' - Peter is a master-fiddler.

It was an interesting juxtaposition - Tom's high-mileage, 'Bianchi-Bomber' low/no tech bike and lights, next to Steve's gadget-smothered ride. A bit like putting a donkey cart alongside the Starship Enterprise. Steve 'the gadget' Ferguson
 had some sort of flight-deck arrangement on his handlebars, including lights, a computer (yes, a small laptop) and a camera. On his helmet, he had a flashing-thingy ('my wife makes me wear it') and a vase of flowers. The rear of the bike had so many lights that they actually gave off heat.

Tom's broken rear Cateye has lost its reflector and is held on with cable ties. For goodness sake, bin it Tom and get a new one! Peter and I thought about organising a whip-round to do just that, but then we remembered that he's from Yorkshire. There's brass there but it's buried deep, deep in his pockets...

Having handed Peter back to Matron, Fergie Gadget and I took Tom to Pevensey, before surfing the breeze all the way to Galley Hill, where I bade Steve/Dave farewell and pootled home, the wind picking up again, blowing in light rain as a prelude to a heavier downpour. Time to go home, sang Andy-Pandy, time to go home.

Regards, Neil