VTTA Reliability Trial

After a week of ice and freezing cold winds we were fortunate to have a weather forecast of light winds sunshine and best of all a 'sweltering' five degrees . Up for the VTTA (veteran time trial association) reliability trial this year  were just six of us , including a rare appearance from Nick Bridger. Derek and Nick set of before the main group as they knew they would be a bit slower, leaving myself, Diego and Duncan in the (relatively ) fast group. I was riding my brand new giant Defy 3 for the first time. Normally I would have taken it out during the week and endured the usual fettling of stem angle , spacers, seat height etc but with all the icy cold weather I had not had the opportunity so was hoping that my guess to the ideal set up was correct?

We were one of the last groups to set off and for the first half mile our Garmins were getting confused about where the route started. Digging out the paper map to find the correct directions soon got us back on track and my Garmin picked up the route unlike Duncans which remained confused all day (poor old 605 doesn't like tcx files)

A mile into the ride we were flagged down by a fellow cyclist who had suffered a double blow out and had run out of inner tubes, I felt sorry for him so give him one of mine in exchange for the two punctured ones which I  hope are fixable?. While the others were chatting to him I took the opportunity to raise the saddle a little and then we were off, together with our new companion who turned out to be a Rye Rover

Eventually we caught up the rest of the Rye rovers and our new companion waved us goodbye. we seemed to going faster than everyone else and were reeling in a steady stream of riders. I got stuck at a road junction and took the chance to check out why my saddle position felt strange. It turned out the saddle bolt had come loose. A quick retrieval of my allen keys from the depths of my saddle bag had it fixed but there was no longer any sign of the others. Up ahead they had realised I was missing and waited for me to catch them up, mumbling my apologies we were all back together again and I made a determined effort to pick up some speed to make up for lost time.

About half way round the course I felt my neck and shoulders stiffening up. With the height of the bars a couple of centimetres taller than my Cannondale Caad 8, I hadn't expected this but had forgotten to take into account the length of the bike. I felt that it was too much of a stretch to get my hands around the hoods and I was relying more and more on using the flat part of the bar for relief. I had mistakenly taken off the stem that came with the bike and put the longer one from my old defy but had forgotten to take into account the longer ramps on the bars.

Malc and Duncan seemed to be in excellent form and were keen to keep up the pace, while the ever considerate Diego kept dropping back for me despite me urging him to not worry about me but to go after the others. Eventually a fast little rider came round us and Diego couldn't resist giving chase, and was soon out of sight.

Lovely lovely tea!

Now having turned East into a mild head wind I settled into Zen mode and became fixated by my garmin, There were only 20 miles to go but with my now quite painful neck and shoulders , my ETA never seemed to get any shorter. At the Brenzett roundabout a police car was redirecting traffic due to a car accident across both carriageways. I am well known for having no sense of direction whatsoever so ignoring the pink line on my Garmin and having to use my brain to try to work out the roughly correct direction  filled me with apprehension. Fortunately on the Garmin touring there is a useful feature where you can  scroll across the map. Using this feature even I could work out which was the right way to go,lol.Feeling pleased to be back on route gave me a little spurt of energy but the diversion meant a couple of miles had been knocked off the route and I had missed the last check point!

Diego makes it back to HQ!

Meanwhile up ahead were Malc and Duncan.They had followed the same diversion as myself but being completionists they had doubled back to get their cards signed at the last check point. Diego was somewhere between myself and Duncan/Malc. He arrived at the checkpoint just as they were shooting off but was now completely lost

It was  relief to reach the last ten mile countdown and to spot the signs for Bethersden. Malc and Duncan had come past me but I arrived just ahead of Derek and Nick . Tea and bread pudding rarely tasted so good, but where was Diego? About half an hour later the 'wanderer' returned. having got totally lost Diego had had to resort to asking people for vague directions and had endured his own mini 'Tour De Marsh'

We all agreed that this is an ideal antidote to the relentless climbing of many local audaxes, and despite suffering a bit today , while on the Mad jack I shall look back on this as easy peasy!

Chain Gang -Part Deux 'Who is Stephen Hawking?"'

What a great Chain gang last night!; no point me going into it in any detail as it will no doubt be excellently reported by Neil; in his usual style - a mix of caustic, Wilde wit with the playful, avant-garde and anarchic style of a modern day Joyce  (did I get that right, Neil?).  Having said that, I would just like to emphasis that this was a totally different scenario from last week's fiasco ( and yes, I put the 'eff' in fiasco as well as the 'c'! - carbolic leaves a very nasty aftertaste. ) However,I was very humbled by Simon's magnanimity - he even complemented me on last week's ramblings (otherwise known as Chain Gang - Part Deux.) I really must buy him a Cinzano on the last CG of the season - or, maybe he would prefer a beer?

Anyway, after the thrill of the outward leg, I attempted another 'blast' with the 'Wannabee / Fasts' (not wishing to offend Neil  I have combined our arbitrarily chosen 'group names' into one - is that better?) on the way back, but decided I had 'shot my bolt' - so decided I would revert to 'chugging'.  Luckily, Stuart had just announced that he was also struggling and so accepted, with some reluctance, my kind offer to 'chug' along with me.

The thing about Stuart is that he cannot resist 'the chase'.  This he has in common with our feisty dog 'Poppy'; who also, cannot resist chasing anything that moves.  This includes: low-flying Chinooks (her favourite - I think the beach at Normans Bay is on the flight path), tumble-weed (her least favourite - as it always leads to bitter disappointment) and seagulls. He had spotted a red light up ahead and declared:"That's irresistible - let's get after them!". We 'upped' our cadence and set off in pursuit. At the junction with The C.B.H I realised who it was: "That's Col. Parker", I said.  We pulled along side and offered our wheel. "It's O.K , thanks, I like to do my own thing these days". We said our "Good nights"  and headed off on our own again.  Shortly after this Stuart announced - with much alarm: "I've lost my 'Ass-Saver', I'll have to turn off at South Cliff to look for it".  A likely story!; bearing in mind that Stuart is a plumber and would only have to change a couple of washers in the morning to pay for a gross of 'Ass-Savers'!". No,  most likely he didn't want to risk cross-contamination by pulling up to the lights with a 'chugger'.

On my own again, I stopped to adjust my gusset and sneaked a look behind me.  That was when everything started to make sense!.  Why was Chris always cycling on his own?, why did he only show up when the sky was clear.  He was a small figure under a large sky, but I spotted a shiny instrument in his hand - there was no doubt about it , it was a brass eye-glass.  Our eyes met across a large distance, but I could tell he knew I had seen it.  He collapsed it back into itself using the heel of his hand.  I was sure now: he was making a few final checks before releasing - finally, his major work entitled "A Brief History of Time (Trialing) and The (Correct) Theory of Everything - by Col. C J Parker" ( I have recommended to Chris that he adds the ' J' , for gravitas - well it worked for Elvis Presley's manager!) .  Using T.T statistics collected over many years, combined with the Red and Blue Shift Modelling Theory, he was about to turn the world of Cosmology upside down. He was going to prove, beyond reasonable doubt that the Universe was neither contracting  nor expanding, as previously thought, but was merely leaning a bit to the left.  It was only a (brief) matter of time before Hawkin would be considered as just another 'flat-earther'. I do think that despite all the fame and fortune headed Chris's way, I would like to buy him a Cinzano, also, at the last CG, for the the hard work he does for the club - a true 'unsung hero'.

I continued along Cooden Drive and was pleased to see that the others had not yet 'shut up shop for the night'.  I pulled along-side the assembled group and looked behind to see if anyone was following me?. Appearing out of the gloom and into the light of the street lamp I could just make out Peter Baker, in full Bedouin headgear, looking every inch the young Peter O'toole!

One of the best things about Wednesday evening is the ride back to Normans Bay with Neil, and quite often, also accompanied by Tom and Stuart.  Tonight it was just Neil and I.  While ambling along Capt. Mainwaring Drive (see 2 blogs ago) we basked in the 'after-glow' of our shared physical experience - this was the metaphorical  'sharing of the cigarette' (talking about cycling here).

Me: "How was I then?",
Neil: "You were amazing!",
Me: "Cheers, you weren't so bad yourself!",
Neil: "Cheers"
(the above relates to cycling)

We ambled our way along, and as Neil mentioned, we got onto the subject of 'Gironimo' - which is without doubt the funniest book I have read in ages (Tim Moore should be knighted immediately for writing such a funny book.)  However, Neil forgot to issue the warning with regard to reading this book that we had discussed.  At several points whilst reading this book, you will find yourself laying on your back, socks off and trying to keep your spleen from tumbling out.  Your wife/partner/mum will ask "What's so funny, then?" . At all costs, resist from reading aloud an extract - it will only meet with derision, better to just respond with a simple "You wouldn't find it funny".  I have known for a long time that when it comes to humour, women come from the second rock from the sun , we are from the fourth.  Let's face it they don't even find farting funny - how weird is that?!"  let me demonstrate with a joke:

1st man: "Would you ever fart in front of your wife?"
2nd man: "Certainly not! - I would definitely let her take her turn"

This is a 'corker' of a joke as I'm sure most men would agree, however, I guarantee if you tell it to your wife/partner/mum they will just give you a pitiful look.

Peter Buss

Poetry in Motion – Wednesday Chain Gang

Last night was the smoothest and most disciplined chain gang I’ve ridden in, from start to finish. Conditions helped; although it was cold, the moderate wind was mostly across us and the roads were dry. Group sizes were also about ideal, with 9 riders in the super fasts and 8 in the fasts (or wannabes, as some would have it). It was good to see Tom Norris back, as well as the usual smattering of regulars.

The ‘supers’ went off first and were soon clear of the rest of us, before all were caught at the temporary lights at the De La Warr. The fasts kept a respectful distance as the ‘supers’ practised their track-stands, their awesome power crackling through the night air, a small herd of racing fillies waiting for the rope to fly up at Epsom. Meanwhile, a few cars back, the Clydesdales and Shires huffed and puffed, looking for hay and sugar-cubes…

As is the norm, we rode mostly single-file until clear of the worst of the cars on Western Parade, and then started properly rotating the lead. Seven riders took turns, with a rider hanging on the back to improve his fitness, quite properly calling us through.

And so it stayed all the way to the roundabout at Pevensey. Nothing much to report – we took turns, everyone called ‘last man’ or ‘clear’ and the pace was maintained – it was lovely locomotion. The group showed only a slight sign of strain after climbing Spooky Hill, but quickly reformed. Quick, smooth and efficient, we could have kept going like that for some miles more. It was almost, well, boring, but it takes concentration and some skill to accomplish that. The thing riders seem to find most difficult is easing off when taking the front, me especially, but I took advice and went up a gear and found this a good way to match the speed of the group.

I tried pepping things up with some carefully directed swearing. A few well-chosen words were passed to Peter B in the hope he might bite back. Nothing doing. I tried again. Nope, nothing at all, not a flicker – he was a model of self-control. I moved on to Stewart B. No joy there either. I abandoned my childish game, the grown-ups having won 3-0. Killjoys!

After brief congratulations at the layby, we were quickly on our way again. I threw caution to the wind and set off after the ‘supers’ in what became a pathetic attempt to live with the Kings (and Queens) of Speed. My breathing was soon ragged and I was dropped within a kilometre of the restart. Oh the shame of it! I pressed on, the wind more against me than with me on the return leg, and waited for the others to catch me.

Before long, I was riding with John V, John S and Simon G. We experienced another perfectly executed chain gang ride all the way to the lights (well, nearly – I found myself at the front with 100m to go and went for it, only to have that scoundrel Simon sneak up the inside). More congratulations were shared and we all felt pretty pleased with ourselves.

As per usual, I rode back to Normans Bay with Peter B. We talked about cycling-related books we’ve read lately. For amusement, my literary colleague and I recommend ‘Gironimo’ by comedian Tim Moore, in which he rides a 100 year old bike around the course of the 1914 Giro D’Italia, reputedly the toughest ever tour race. He’s very good at swearing. I’d also recommend ‘One Man and His Bike’ by Mike Carter, describing his often funny experiences riding 5,000 miles around the UK coast. Both are a good read, although we noted that our partners were often less than amused by our constant chuckling.

A highlight for me of any night-ride is a clear sky and a full moon. Last night was a beauty, especially on Herbrand Walk, where free of the need to stare at the bike in front I could soak up the moonlight, shining onto the road and bouncing off the sea like a night-sun, too nice to rearrange.

 

Regards, Neil

Three Seasons Triple Bacon Butty Run Saturday 31 January

 On the way down from Stonegate the trees and grass were well covered with frost and puddles in the lanes were frozen over. It seemed less frosty as I approached the coast and by the time I was cycling over Galley Hill it was grey, miserable and wet. I raced to the cafe so as to not get wet (I know, raced is a bit of an exaggeration at my pace .....) and then inside looking out, after ordering scambled egg, as the rain got heavier I started to hope no one else would turn up so I could go home. It was not to be. And for the best.

Mehru Meets HSLCC!

At 10:00 six of us were setting out with the rain easing off when Malcolm D drove past in his van and shouted that we should meet him on the sea front. We pulled up as was taking his bike out of his van. Being an expert on predicting the weather he had been studying the conditions outside and various web sites and concluded that by 10:00 the worst of the rain would have passed so if he drove out he would not need to ride in a rain top. Spot on!

We had Mehru out with us for the first time and, after months of ticking over on the turbo indoors, CTT SE District 10 mile TT 12 year age group champion Fabien, now turned 13, was making his first appearance on the BBR for many months.

Not long in to the ride there was some reasonable springlike sun shine and a fair bit of blue sky after the early morning wintery frost and later autumnal rain. It was pretty cold, but not too bad so only a three season ride missing out on any illusion of summer warmth. The wonders of rapid changes in British weather.

Steve D was on one of his magic rides again, appearing and disappearing out of nowhere. Once again many thanks to him for some great pace setting with Fabien sticking to his wheel for a long stretch and me riding Fabien's wheel.

Who said It Was Cold!

Mehru had to get back early to work so he came straight back from Pevensey with Steve D. The rest of us decided to take the short route to Pevensey Bakery where Fabien's Dad met him to go on elsewhere in the car.

I went for my usual small breakfast with coffee, great value, and with Malcolm feeling peckish joined him by following it with cake as we had a second drink and chatted plus Steve set up Paul Bx's new smart phone to do emails.

On the way back the other three forced me to accompany them to The Standard in the Old Town for a pint, I had so many other plans of things to do .......

This Is What The BBR Is All About!

The Triple Butty Run usually refers to those that ride the Pre BBR, then the Main BBR then after coffee do an extended run e.g. via Heathfield, the BBR Plus. This week my "Triple Butty" effort was scrambled egg on toast in Di Paolo's, small breakfast and caramel slice in Pevensey Bakery and pint of Whitstable Bay in The Standard. Oh, and I must have cycled a few miles in between stops. A great morning out thanks to others turning up and making me go on a ride instead of sloping off straight back home from Di Paolo's at 10:00.

Hope to see lots of you at the Club Evening Monday 2 February at 19:30 in The Carlisle on the sea front. It is an opportunity to get together off the bike to chat and we will pop upstairs at 20:00 to do some brief AGM formalities before returning downstairs to continue chatting. If you cannot make it earlier in the evening please feel free to pop in for a chat later.

Chris Parker

Chain Gang - Part Deux

"Death by asphyxiation and the birth of Jedwood'

"So are you trying to look ridiculous, on purpose, now?", said Vicki as she scrutinised me from the kitchen while sipping from a glass of chilled 'Oyster Bay'.
"To what are you referring?", I replied, as I stood in my normal position; posed in front of the full-length hall mirror.
"That thing on your head!", she said.
I had already decided that the red, under-helmet skull cap was more 'Max Wall' than I had anticipated when ordering it.  I playfully experimented by adding my Oakley 'Racing jacket' shades (more about these later)
 to the look - now definitely more bog snorkeller than cyclist.  I had already worked out for myself that there is nothing 'cool' about this item, whatsoever and had been perfecting a method of removing it at the same time as the helmet; thus avoiding anybody seeing it.  This involved inserting both thumbs under the cover and the helmet, and swiftly pushing upwards (I had tried the reverse action to put helmet and cover on together by turning the helmet over, lining it with the cover and then, with thumbs holding both items, slam down on head as quick as possible - this I decided could lead to mild concussion so have abandoned the idea.)

Vicki has never been keen on cycling apparel - to say the very least, and has decided that everyone, especially me, looks a complete wally in Lycra - unless they are a professional cyclist and wear it for a living. The first time I donned a pair of sub-entry level, Lycra shorts and tried to leave the house, I was caught in the act by Vicki who said :"And where do you think you are going dressed like that?", "I thought I might try cycling to Pevensey Bay and back" was my meek reply. "You really ought to put another pair of shorts over those ones". To avoid any argument I duly obliged.  This is quite 'rich' considering that during my five years with The Longman Morris Dancers ( I retired following an Achilles injury, but I don't like to brag about this.) she had regularly seen me 'jingling' my way down the front path wearing buckled breeches, baldrics, silk top hat, bells and an earing in the shape of 'The Longman'.  When I quizzed her about this she said that Lycra was a much worse look.  This surprised me , because, athough as a Morris dancer I readily accepted that, hierarchically, I was a peg, or two, below 'Village Idiot', as a MAMIL, although not high in status, I did believe I had moved slightly up 'the ladder'.

Whilst continuing my pre-chain gang preening session I gave some consideration to other apparel and accessories that ( in my opinion) constitue a feux pas, or should simply be avoided at all costs. Several items can be grouped together under the heading:

S & M Derivatives

(Incidentally, at my age I am much more interested in M&Ms than S&M.)

HRMs

Or, as older cyclists refer to them - 'moob holders'.
Useful piece of equipment you might say! - I quite agree, but the very action of putting them on puts me in mind of a front loading bra - slide to the side, attach clip and swing to the front. I am surprised that Garmin, or Polar, haven't 'cottoned-on' to the S&M potential and introduced a 'peep-hole' version, or a strap-free, 'clamp on' version (with adjustable torque settings.)

'Hip-Lock' Cycle Security Device

Basically a massive chain and pad-lock, worn on the hips - pure dungeon!

Arm and Leg warmers.

No problem, providing flesh is prevented from showing between arm warmer and jersey or leg warmer and shorts.  On a commute along Sluice Road, a couple of months ago, I felt a cold chill on my limbs and looked down to find I had a 'full house' of large gaps between both arm and both leg warmers!.  Oh, the embarrassment!.  I considered my options: steer myself directly into the path of the next on-coming vehicle or dive under the next Hawthorn bush! ( I settled for a dismount and discreet adjustment.)

Neoprene Bootees

Do I really need to say anything? (other than that I own a pair.)

String Vests (base layer)

Looks good with a Freddie Mercury type mustache.

Leggings

All lengths - with, or without built-in cod-piece, and including bib type.

 If anyone has any doubts about the S&M link I challenge them to stand, bare-chested (female cyclists may not wish to partake in this), in front of a mirror wearing all the above items (choose between shorts and leg warmers, or leggings), also, try adding full-face balaclava!

Oakley Racing Jacket Sunglasses.

Oakley, as I'm sure everyone would agree, are the coolest company on the planet, making the coolest products - even their new headquarters in Orange County, California makes The Bilbao Guggenheim look pedestrian!.  So how did 'Racing Jacket' sunglasses get past the style gurus at Oakley? There is no doubt in my mind that if the Oakley had been founded in the days of 'The Emperor's New Clothes' the eponymous emperor would have paraded past two 'high-fiveing' salesman, totally naked aside from a pair of gold-plated 'Racing Jacket' shades. Don't get me wrong I have a pair and love them like a son.  It's just that everyone looks such a 'knob' in them.  Matt Schubert once said to me, over coffee: " I bought a fake pair of those (nodding at mine), off ebay, exactly the same as yours- only £12!.  I tried them on and thought "I look a right bell-end" - couldn't even give them away!". Mine are the real thing - I wish to add.

I bought mine at Gatwick Airport on the way to Majorca.  Vicki turned her back for a minute; whilst checking out the designer shades in the duty free, and I seized the opportunity to try a pair on.  I asked what she thought and her reply (unsurprisingly) was: "You look like a pillock, but I suppose they're good for cycling in?". "Essential eye wear if one is serious about safety" , I replied.  I parted with some major 'wedge' (duty free prices - my a*se!) and left the shop.

Having a bit of time to 'kill', I wandered into WHS to pick up a cycling magazine for the flight.  This was when my life started to have real meaning - on the cover of Cycling Weekly was Chris Froome wearing the same white, shades, as me!!.  I slung some money at the sales assistant and rushed off to find Vicki to tell her my great news.  "Now take deep breaths and try to tell me clearly why you are so excited".  " Chris Froome is... i n...o u t...wearing...i n.. o u t... the same shades...i n...o u t...more slowly... as me!!".  Don't you mean you are wearing the same glasses as Chris Froome, she corrected". "Be honest, did you see the magazine and then buy the glasses?", "No,no,no, I protested!".. It was futile; she would never believe me - and still doesn't, that I bought bought those glasses first! (incidentally, he also a looks a complete twat)".

The best thing about my Oakleys is that a large toy box and an emergency 'swipe is included (Oakley insist on calling them a hard and soft carry case.)  The toy box is very educational, because when you consider that there are 3 pairs of inter-changeable lenses, which have 4 'corners' and a back and front; there are more combinations than a rubick's cube!.  I have yet to successfully change my lenses first time.

Dressing the Same as Your Mate.

For heavens sake, get a grip!.  Thin end of the wedge if you ask me.  What is this likely to lead to?; pre-arranged trips to Primark to buy matching 'Onesies'?; sharing a crab starter at the next HSLCC social?

If you wonder where the cynicism comes from , let me explain....

From shortly after birth, until long after puberty, my mother insisted on dressing me and my, slightly older brother Graham, in the same outfits.  This consisted of grey shorts  (in a kind of serge material), grey socks, white shirt and a hand-knitted, mustard coloured jumper with a white hoop across the chest. On 'posh' days out i.e to our nans, or to the doctors, the jumper could be swapped for our school blazer.

Good To See Nigel T Back On The Chain !

I don't know what kind of material these jumpers were created from - definitely not wool,any other natural or man made material.  I truly believe my mother had woven them from a substance that had not yet found it's way onto the Periodic Table.  The reason I am saying this is because, just in ordinary movement, with arms swinging by the side of the body, they generated astonishing amounts of static electricity!.  So great was the static that if we hadn't taken preventative action we would have effectively been straight-jacketed - with our arms stuck to our bodies.. To circumvent this my brother and I realised that, as the day wore on, we had to keep our arms away from our bodies.  Up until lunchtime an angle of 20 degrees was sufficient - although the problem was that when holding your arms away from your body the tendency is to flair the wrists.  This creates a very 'camp' effect.  To counter this we decided we had to take large strides - small steps with arms at 20 degres just exacerbated the problem.  We had no choice but to 'Cleese Step' our way around the playground.  Mid-afternoon we were at 45 degrees; not so camp, more the look of someone who has just stepped out of the shower, and is feeling really chilled, or someone who is a bit 'muscle bound' - not likely in our case!.  Tea-time and we were now full-blown crucifixes - this required that we moved sideways through door ways and ate from a trough!.  If you're wondering why our parents didn't intervene, I think it was because they assumed we just liked to play at being 'fighter pilots'.  If you think this is bad - bed time was much, much worse.  The problem was that we were growing, but the mustard jumpers weren't growing at the same rate - it dawned on me that we were slowly being asphyxiated!  The main objective was to remove the items without slicing off our ears.  As the article slipped over our mouths it removed the saliva so effectively from our top teeth that our top lips stuck to them and we grinned like Chipmonks. After much tugging they would eventually 'twang' off over our head.  The result of this additional burst of static was that it would leave our hair sticking up - similar to the effect achieved in the class room when placing your hand on a van der graaph generator!  The sad thing is that my mother was blissfully unaware of the the money making opportunity she had failed to capitilise on: lying in the next room to them were the fore-runner of 'Jedwood'!

Oh, dear! - I seem to have been tangent-ed myself away from last night's Chain Gang.  Only have enough time now to confirm the result:

1st Place - The Super-Fasts - 10 points
2nd Place - The Wannabees - 5 points
Last Place - The Chuggers - nil point.

Better luck next week Chuggers!

Constructers Championship

1st Place - Giant
2nd Place - Giant
3rd Place - Giant

Peter Buss

Wednesday Chain Gang - War and Peace

Another wet and windy Wednesday, another chain gang and another good turn out – 21 riders lured by the lull in the rain and in denial about just how bloody cold it was. The wind was a nice performance aid when following, but a bitter cold steel knife that cut to the bone when standing still or riding towards Pevensey. I just wanted to get going to warm up, then enjoy surfing the wind back to Bexhill

We set off as two groups, or at least that was the plan. There was a clump of 10 or so super-fasts that set off more or less together, followed by an indeterminate string of riders that was neither ‘Arthur nor Martha’. Anyhow, we sorted ourselves into a middling group of 7 or so riders, but I think the tone was set in those first few minutes – for the rider wanting the purist chain-gang experience there was frustration as well as satisfaction last night, and a bit of drama too.

Our intentions were honest and earnest: to ride as a group, rotating the front, taking our turns as much as we were able and communicating our intentions to each other. Well, none of us is perfect, and soon our ideals met with the sour crab apple of reality. It started well enough with each rider performing well in the group.  Paul Baxter showed great attitude after the lambasting of last week, staying with the group and trying hard to ride to the high expectations of the more vocal riders, if not yet quite getting the hang of easing off when taking the front. Chapeau Mr Baxter, chapeau!

The pace rose on the marsh stretches and so with it rose the challenge of keeping a smooth rotation. As the required effort increased, not everyone was able to make it down the outside and take the front, but getting this message through to the front and middle of the group was not easy. This was clearly frustrating for some and confusing for others, but understandable if you were near enough to the last rider to know they needed a rest

The Original 'Men In Black'!

But a good pace was maintained, even if it was not ridden smoothly. I’m not sure what happened next, but somewhere toward the end of the outward leg there were words. Harsh words. Words you would not use if Granny were in the room.  One very naughty word indeed. My blushes were lost in the darkness and I instinctively hunched over, ducking to avoid the flaming tirade. Blimey, that was a bit strong – steady does it!

A sort of hush and forced politeness fell over the group and we made it to the turn without further incident. I did a lap of the roundabout and rode into the layby, the protagonists in the exchange engaged in conversation. I think there was a misunderstanding. I think also there was something in the stars last night – we all seemed rather pumped up and on a short fuse. Perhaps Mars was in Venus, or Saturn was in Uranus, but I thought the expectations of a very mixed group were higher than most could live up to. Happily, kinder words were spoken, explanations made, hands shaken and water bottles drunk from as we waited for the later arrivals.

The return leg is always more freeform, and so it was last night. I abandoned again any idea of riding with the super-fasts and instead rode with a group of four – Simon G, I think John S and another – across the marshes, picking up Ivan along the way and making good time with the west wind at our backs. Some bloke with a beard was in a gateway and he too joined us, to be revealed as John V, clearly just returned from an expedition to somewhere colder than the south coast. It transpired that he had been late leaving home and had ridden like fury to join the gang, ruining his legs in the process (nicely shaved this week John, unlike your chin).

This motley crew rumbled on, catching and carrying Mr B nearer Cooden, becoming quite a rapid mini-peloton as we saluted the club president on Cooden Drive. Onward we swept, past the chequered board, propelled by the wind and the adrenaline of the ride toward the lights. A few of us broke away to make a final fast arrival, enjoying the buzz of riding at full-throttle.

I rode back to Cooden and then Normans Bay with Stewart B (note spelling this week matey) and Peter ‘Potty-Mouth’ Buss. We discussed some of the random followers we seem to get on Strava. Peter collects all the totty; I get hairy blokes. Life is unfair but I guess it’s mostly about how we deal with the disappointments and disagreements that matters more (shut the **** up Neil, you patronising %£$@%!).

As is my habit, after bidding Peter a good night, I rode up Spooky Hill to Rock Cottage, into that sharp cold wind, before turning to pelt downhill and ride hard with the wind behind me, back to town. It was a beautiful night. The clear sky was full of stars, with the moon over half full and shining a cool silver light that made the night feel colder, gleaming on the bike’s salty-white tyres. Jupiter shone to the east of the moon and the Plough made crooked progress across the furrowed firmament. Life felt good, as it so often does after a chain gang ride, but I was also cold. I realised that I was not really sweating. Time for the well-earned warmth of home and a hot dinner!

Regards, Neil

24/1 Audax Hills And Mills- Derek And The Tri Athletes Report

I had arranged for 2 of my triathlon mates to ride this one again as they joined me last year. we tried to hang on to Steves group but they were gradually pulling away from us so we settled in to our own pace.
We were a bit tired having done 4 swim sessions this week totalling 7.5 kilometres. We were about 20 k in when Roy got a puncture . This turned out to be a large  piece of flint which made a hole in the tyre so we had to cut up the old tube to patch up the hole. We knew we were unlikely to see rest of group again that day. i had forgotten that kidds hill was in this one until one of the others reminded me. I have been up this 4 times before and have only got up it once so was dreading it but to my surprise made it again and passed 2 people who had got off to push. Did anyone go through the ford instead of taking the bridge ?
This is a hard route and was pleased to eventually finish, biggest problem on this one is the amount of Chelsea tractors you come across and have to queeze past.
Was surprised to find only Malc back at the start but later heard what had happened . Wish Lee a speedy recovery.