1/4 Wednesday Night Chain Gang-"Fair Stood the Wind for Bexhill"

It seems Strange To Arrive With Some Sunlight left?

We're on the return leg, there's a magnificent tail wind and Alex and I are  'flying'.

"Dieu et mon droit!": I urged Alex.
"Eh?": he replied
"Go,go go! - there's no sign of them!"

I'm like Richard the Third leading his troops  into battle at Bosworth.  It was one thing to be riding with the Ultras, but I never expected - no, seriously I didn't - to be leading 'the charge', along side young Alex.  I pointed the way forward with my Kings Sword (mini-pump) and gripped the bars for dear life.

Newbie Rider Carl Acquits Himself Well!

"Oh, look!", I said.
"What, are they gaining on us now?", asked Alex
"No, I've just seen the way the moonlight is dancing over the tops of the waves: 'The sea, the sea, in the darkness she calls to me..."
"Oh, do shut up and stay focused", Alex snapped.

He reached into his jersey pocket and offered me a small plastic bag.

"Here, take one of these; Uncle Michele (Ferrari) sends me them from Milan, he says I need to 'take care' of myself if I'm serious about cycling".

I had noticed that Alex had been using a strange looking gel lately and I was very suspicious.  I scrutinised the packet, and even in the moonlight I could make out the letters 'EPO'.

"Oh, don't worry about that Neil, Uncle says it stands for egg-protein origin.", he gulped it down.
I passed mine back to him and said: "I'm strictly du pain et du l'eau, if you get my drift?"

I glanced over my shoulder to see the unquantifiably magnificent Stuart and the equally awesomely stupendous Barney gaining on us.  I also spotted that 'scruff bag' Nigel. I really feel Nigel should 'up his game' if he wants to fulfil his dream of cycling around the solar system next season - cycling in Aldi gear is one thing, but apparently he's started raiding clothes banks now - wonder who put him up to that?

"Oh, hang on a mo, who's that? - I thought so!, it's Mal D and Ivan. They 'ran the red' at the De La Warre lights", I said.

"Yes, I know, do you you think we should report them to Col C 'J' Parker?", he replied.

"I certainly think we should, I hope he 'throws the book at them this time!", I said indignantly.

We are now in sight of the lights at Bexhill.  Alex has ramped up his speed since taking his supplement and I'm struggling to hang on.  Eventually we arrive at our destination and I'm elated.  I hop off Alex's crossbar and give him a big man-hug.

"Thanks, son, I couldn't have done it without you,  There's no sign of the others yet, are you going to hang around for them?", I asked.
"No, I've got school in the morning - double french - yuk!"

I 'clip clop' my way home with an over-whelming sense of achievement.  It was really nice of Peter B to lend me his commute bike last week, but I simply couldn't have imposed on him again.  He really is a nice chap.  I can't help but notice the slender ankles; a sure sign of breeding, no stranger to the playing fields of Eton, I bet.  I smile wryly to myself and consider what I have just achieved: a few weeks ago I couldn't even keep up with the Ultras, and now I've just given them a good thrashing!. I can do this on my own next time, I know I can, really,  I can!.

Neil Smith (yes, it really is me, honest!)

Wed Chain Gang - Part Deux

Prologue

 KABOOM! ..."What the .... is that?", said Neil.

 We were on our way to meet Stewart at Cooden Station. We hurriedly turned the corner at the end of Capt. Mainwaring Way to see Stewart sitting in his new Bentley 'Artisan'.....KABOOM!.  We rushed over to find him with his feet on the ebony dashboard igniting his farts with rolled up £50 notes!. Such an obscene display of wealth and ostentation.

"Oh, I've been having such fun while I've been waiting for you."
"You want to be careful, mate", said Neil.
Stewart looked down at the panda skin seat to see it had become singed: "Oh, well I can always have them re-covered; I mean it's not as if there aren't plenty more of the little blighters is it?.  Is Matty not joining us?".
"No, I said. Apparently his flight's been delayed and his stuck at Miami Airport - he texted me from the Pilots Club".
"Oh, that's a shame, I have to ask though, do you think he really is a pilot?": said Stewart.
"To be honest I'm prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I did ask him if he could grab me a few of those little bags of complimentary nuts if there's any left on the trolley after the flight home.", I replied.

Rare Chain-Gang Appearance From Steve B

I must admit to feeling a little trepidation when I entered De Paulos on the BBR last week.  I saw the other Peter B sitting there and wasn't sure how he would react to my mentioning the 'special' relationship he has with his mother in last week's blog.  I needn't have worried as he pulled along side early on in the Chain Gang, and in his best 'pythonesque', Eric Idle voice, imitating his 'mother' said: "Keep away from him".  I do appreciate a psychologist with a good SOH!. He encouraged me to go faster, but I said: "I'm a freud, I'm not as jung as I once was".  He put his 'foot on the gas' and showed me a 'clean pair of heels.

Earlier...

"Yes,yes, yes, I'm sure it's a perfectly good bicycle, but does it match my new top?", said Neil.
We were at my house and Neil was trying out my Moda.
"Well, it's black and white, which is quite neutral", I replied.
"Look,I don't think you quite realise how important tonight is to me. I'm riding with the Supers, officially, for the first and I really don't want to let them down.  I mean, they always look so perfectly co-ordinated."
Eventually, after much reassurance we set off for Cooden to meet up with Stewart.

'It's important to plan for ones retirement'

Me: "My word you're looking lovely this evening; you look positively radiant.  You don't look your age at all -           not a bit of it"

Vicki: "Sorry did you say something?"

Me: "Oh, no, nothing, don't worry"

We're in our usual Wednesday evening positions - Vicki in dining room, sipping something chilled, me preening in front of the hall mirror.  I move my face closer to the mirror and continue my self dialogue from within the safety of a thought bubble.

Me: "Yes, you really are looking amazing! - the years have hardly touched you at all.  Although I must say, It's very good of God to give us an extra chin when we get to a certain age - I suppose it's in case we damage the other one - although I think to give us three more is bit much."  I tug at the skin around my neck.  " I really need to be a bit careful when I do up my top up that I don't catch that in the zip (the last time I caught my skin in a zip was when I was a little boy and it wasn't the skin around my neck I can tell you! (my eyes start to 'water' at the painful memory.)) I refuse to worry about getting old and do my best to ignore the signs; you know?; like more hair on my ears and up my nose than on my head.  Staring deeply into my own eyes I see a much younger person staring back.  Am I really that same person? - the 12 year old boy, sitting cross-legged and mesmerized, in front of a black and white television as Neil Armstrong leaves the lunar module to take his first step on the moon ( I still shiver when I recall those famous words: not the '...small step for man' ones, spoken by Neil, rather the barely audible words from 'buzz' - whilst waiting his turn to leave the module: "Oooo shut that door!"), or the young man with skin tight as a snare drum, blonde streaks, designer stubble and white shoes with no socks? (this was my George Michael phase, by the way - by God I looked impressive!), am I really the same young man who scoffed at the idea of getting old and assumed, like every other young man, that it would never happen to them? - well **** me it's starting to happen now!.
From Neil Armstrong to Lance Armstrong, and beyond, in a 'heartbeat'.  I mean it hasn't started to get really serious yet - I still have confidence that I'll be able to tell the difference between an orgasm and a heart attack - but only just!.  I can still find my birth year when using those drop down menus, but I have to admit to spinning the mouse wheel a few times to reach it.  Looking at my saggy face and neck I truly believe I am starting to turn into a turtle!.  I sort of 'get' the opening and closing sequences of One Foot in the Grave' now - the image of that big tortoise clambering along - it all makes sense. I start to think I might like to live where I'll blend in a bit more.

Me: "Vick, you know you were saying that we should move abroad for our retirement?"
Vicki: " Yes that's right sweetie, have you got somewhere in mind then?"
Me: "Well, have you ever considered the Galapagos Islands?"

Peter Buss

Wednesday Night Chain Gang – Moda Madness

A fantastic turnout again last night, with around 35 riders starting the chain gang and riding in good, dry, near windless conditions. It’s really great to see such numbers – a real boost for the club and for local cycling.

A large first group of supers/ultras made off at a comfortable pace, retaining most starters for a good distance along the Bexhill and Cooden stretches of the route. Joe Kingsman looked keen, but the marvellous Stuart Hodd was out of sorts with mechanical issues (more on this later). Neil Shier was in cheeky form but for the most part we rode at a more restrained pace than usual – not by much, but noticeable nonetheless.

At the Cooden Hotel bends (does someone know a better name?) we were still a sizeable group. This caused some nervous moments as some riders in the outside line cut across others on the inside line of the sharp corners in front of the hotel onto Herbrand Walk. As is traditional, the pace increased at this point. Neil Shier said something to me about hanging on up the hill, but I’m not sure if he meant the slight rise on Herbrand, or later on Spooky Hill. I did my best Neil!

I was pleased again to hang on to the group along Herbrand, helped I think by the generally patchy attempts to rotate the lead. I hit the front not long after the level crossing and led for distance through the twists and turns of the stretch to the Star Inn. Others came past and upped the pace further, with some slightly hairy manoeuvres, but perhaps I’m just getting nervy in my old age. We sorted ourselves out by the time we reached Normans Bay, hitting the bottom of Spooky Hill at a good pace.

I hung on better than last week, keeping in reasonable touch with the genuinely fast riders, making progress with a group of four in a somewhat dysfunctional mini-chain. We could not settle into a rhythm that satisfied me, with the pace varying too much to ensure efficient riding – people were tearing off and then blowing up, rather than working as a team, but we managed to stay together, more or less.

On the return leg, Peter B and I tucked in behind Stuart Hodd, before a couple of riders rotated pass and the return leg started in earnest. It was pretty confusing from then on, with various loose groupings forming and breaking apart. I managed a good speed up the western slopes of Spooky Hill, staying with a group both up and down the other side, then across the marshes and along Herbrand. Again, I didn’t feel that the chain really got going properly, perhaps because there was too varied a mix of riding abilities. Once on Cooden, more moderately paced riders caught us up and a new group pushed on to the lights.

If that sounds a bit disappointing, it wasn’t really. I enjoyed a good ride at a decent pace, but I would have appreciated a bit more structure to the ride ie better through and off / rotating the front riding. But as a Jonny-come-lately I know there are better and more experienced riders who might think differently.

Despite Pete's Support Malc Looks Anxious before His First Chain Gang

Frankly, I was pleased to be riding at all. I broke a gear cable on a ride on Saturday (easy to fix), and then broke the Ultegra shifter on Sunday (less easy, rather expensive). £90 poorer and without the new shifter yet to hand, I had on Wednesday afternoon the prospect of riding the chain with the gears stuck on the 11T cog, albeit on the 39T front ring. That’s a pretty stiff gear for a ‘spinner’ such as me, requiring that I stand on the pedals for anything other than downhills and flat roads. The bike was rideable, but only just, and I was possibly a risk to others.

Step forward the very generous Mr Peter Buss, making available to me his commuter ride: a smart looking black and white Moda with Tiagra groupset. I had only to ride from Bexhill to his place in Normans Bay, swap pedals and then potter over to the start with him and Stewart B. Perfect!

Well, I made my way to Peter’s fairly easily and removed my pedals swiftly. Next step, get Peter’s pedals off the Moda. Hmmm, not very cooperative. I tried a bit harder, with some WD40 squirted around the threads, but no joy. Peter held the opposite crank so that I could really push. Nope, still no movement.

‘Perhaps a gentle tap with the hammer?’ said Peter. Good idea, I like hammers! Spanner held firmly in place, Peter holding the crank again, hammer raised, hammer lowered with gentle force – tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Hmmm. TAP, TAP, TAP, TAAAAPPPP! Peter looked on nervously. I remembered that this was not my bike and put the hammer down.

 ‘I’ve got some spare shoes Neil’, said Peter quickly, before I became too despondent. ‘Brilliant!’ I said. What’s more, they fitted – problem solved. I was sorted for the chain gang. Lights were sorted and my garmin fitted into the mount. Saddle height tweaked and we were off.

At the start, Stuart Hodd asked who was on the Moda. I confessed and relayed the story of my mechanical mishaps. Stuart reciprocated with a similar gear-related story that ended with him throwing the bike across the road and knackering a wheel. Aha, a fellow short-temper sufferer! I confess now to losing patience with my gear shifter, pushing too hard in a vain attempt to get the bloody thing to work, then feeling that sickening ‘give’ as something delicate, expensive and inaccessible broke deep within the ‘doings’. Oh shit…

Memo to self: control temper when working on the bike; maintain a zen-like state of calm; use some grease on threads you will need to undo; and leave the hammer in the toolbox.

 Or hit the offending component hard to teach it a lesson. Really hard. Twice. The choice is yours – one path leads to cheaper and easier repairs, the other path leads to bruised knuckles, feeling foolish and more debt on the credit card. And to think that I’ve mellowed with age...

Neil

21/3 Mad March Marsh Ride

A couple of days ago was the first day of spring but it certainly didn't feel like it as myself and Ivan set off for the cemetery to meet up with Malc C, MalcD and Duncan for our annual Mad March Marsh ride. While waiting five minutes for any last minute riders we saw Steve D riding past. A minute later he had ridden back to us to ask us where we were going. It turned out that he had forgotten the ride was on and having done both the Friday night ride and a shift at work that finished at 3am he was out for a short ride on his own but said he would join us at least as far as Rye.

This year to make the ride a bit more interesting rather than straight to rye via Fairlight we were doing the last part of the Friday night ride in reverse.

What A relief To get To the Pub!

By the time we reached Brede, Steve was beginning to feel the twin effects of the Friday night ride and his work shift and was beginning to struggle but the mostly downhill drag into rye should give him chance to recover.Despite his tiredness Steve decided to join us for the whole ride.

From Rye it was straight out to lydd and then onto new Romney via the coast. I know that Steve Butcher regularly uses this as his standard training ride but speaking for myself  I am glad to only do this route once a year, its just so grim, wind swept and desolate . By now we had split into two groups of three . I of course was in the slower group with Steve D and Malc C , plodding along into the freezing cold head wind at around 11 mph. Myself and Malc C tried to give Steve some shelter from the wind but he was not always able to keep up with us. For a while, as well as the constant freezing head wind we also had to contend with   drizzle blasting into our faces . Fortunately this only lasted for about half an hour.

Regrouping at New Romney we were now on the dead straight B2080 which would take us direct to Snargate. Steve D knew the route from here so we were able to leave him behind and push the pace up a little. It was a relief to be out of the wind but it still seemed to take ages to make any progress and there was more traffic than last year (I have remapped this section to avoid the B road for 2016) .

With a sigh of relief we reached our main objective, the legendary red lion pub at Snargate
http://www.heritagepubs.org.uk/pubs/historic-pub-interior-entry.asp?pubid=100
If you don't know this pub it is well worth checking out as its the prefect antidote to today's franchised plastic pubs, only the 'Standard' can match it for ambience. The red lion is only open for three brief hours (12:00 - 3:00) and it was already nearly two o'clock so we had to polish off our three pints quite quickly . The publican recognised us from last year and on leaving we promised to be back in 2016.

Heading back out into the cold wind we were at least partially numb from the alcohol in our blood streams and we knew that we would have a tail wind all the way back from Appledore. Sure enough , we flew down the Military Canal road in record Strava time and soon arrived at the kettle O' fish. the owner is very bike friendly and was more than happy for us to leave our bikes inside. The fish and chips were excellent and well worth waiting for (check out the curry sauce- yummy)

Malc Makes It Up Battery!

With a big belly full of fish and chips we would struggle up Battery Hill but at least we still had the wind behind us. Malc C had only done this hill once before and had dismounted for a while so was a little apprehensive. In the end he made it without too much trouble while the completely knackered Steve D brought up the rear.

Despite the gloomy weather, this was a fun day out, lets hope for nicer conditions when we repeat it in 2016.

Wed Chain Gang - Part Deux (Part Quatre)

Prologue

I've always found it quite interesting to try and guess what other members of the club do for a living, and I'm generally quite surprised by the answer.  Take Peter B (the other Peter B - of course - I know what I do for a living) for instance; for some reason which makes no sense at all I had always thought he had something to do with fish - either filleting or mongering (not that he smells of fish or anything like that - it was purely a hunch).  So as you can imagine I was totally amazed when he told me what his profession was - although it does go a long way to explaining the odd conversation I had with him on Wednesday evening.

Peter: "Hello Peter, how am I?"
Me: "You look fine, how are you?"
Peter: "We're both doing very well, thank you"
Me: "No, I said how are you?"
Peter: "Yes, I know, and I said were both fine, and Mother thanks you for asking"
Me: (thought bubble "Oh, Sh*t")

He then pointed at the assembled bikes and said: "Why do they only have two wheels?"
I replied: "Because they're bicycles and they always have two wheels."
He then started to look a bit vague. "See I told you, Mother, they're not trolleys they're bicycles".
Me: "See you at the roundabout then?"
Peter: "Yes, hope so, and Mother says it was lovely to have met you"

(Sorry Peter, but I did warn you about going faster than me on Wednesday!)

I made my excuses and wandered over to greet Matt who was making his first appearance in two years.  He explained that having left Red Bull, he was now working in the aeronautical business.  He didn't say exactly what it was he was doing, but I do suspect he may be cabin crew. I know this is a bit unkind, but I became suspicious after I saw him heading towards Bexhill station pulling a small trolley, and stopping momentarily, to re-fix the stripes that had fallen off his 'Officers' uniform.  I must say he was fairly 'flying', especially on the return leg, so the two years away from the Chain Gang hasn't done him any harm.

I feel I must congratulate Neil who has finally achieved his ambition of riding with the 'Supers'.  When Chris gave the word for the fast guys to go off first, it was without hesitation that Neil joined them.  The smile on his face was heartwarming I must say.  I guess I will now have to formulate a list of 'glowing' adjectives like: 'The stupendous...The marvelous...The magnificent..'  This is how Neil generally likes to describe his fellow 'Supers' in his wonderful blogs and would surely appreciate the same treatment!


Part Quatre

"We will fight them on the beaches, we will fight them in our sheds...."

(Makes more sense if you have been following this nonsense for the past three weeks.)

Having considered all the options, I was now fully prepared: "So go on then, what is my problem - pray tell me?" (this was accompanied with a smug, 'bring in on, darling, look'.)

Vicki: "Your obsessed with cycling!"

I am so 'NOT obsessed' that I have hadn't even considered the remote possibility that this could be 'my problem'.  I needed to prepare a robust riposte.  I didn't want to be confrontational, but, equally I didn't want to appear to be anything other than 'my own man'.  After much deliberation I came up with a perfect reply.
"No, I'm not", I had delivered the 'killer' response - absolutely brilliant!.  I know it's not exactly Churchillian, but I had to let Vicki know that this was a preposterous accusation up with which I shall not put. I continued in my school boyish swagger: "So on what grounds are you basing this accusation on, pray tell me some more, Oh,High Priestess of soft furnishings?."  "On the grounds, sweetheart, that you cycle to work every day and still come home the long way round just to get a few more miles 'under your belt' (Mmmm, How could she know this?; I haven't seen her on Coast Road lately, so she's either 'sneaking a peek' at my Strava stats, she's manually working out my average speed or she's hired a private eye!.  Come to think of it I did have a strong sense of being followed by another cyclist, one day last week.  I tried slowing down but he refused to go past - even when we were both going so slowly that we started wobbling like spinning tops on their final revolutions before toppling over.  I tried speeding up and down in spurts, but he stuck so close behind me that I could even smell his garlicky breath wafting past on the tail wind - probably French I'll wager.  My suspicions were confirmed when with a brilliant piece of bikemanship I had lead him into that really nasty sink hole by the camp site; "Oooo, merde!" I heard him cry - go poke your baguette into someone else's affairs, mon ami! - I thought to myself.  I soloed back to PRNB (the people republic of Normans bay), and,with my spirits lifted, accompanied myself with some singing whilst negotiating the omnipresent speed bumps: "... with me breeches full of Tadpoles...hop, hop...And the Newts between me toes..I am a cider drinker..hop..it soothes all me troubles away..hop,hop,hop...Oooh, arrrh, Oooh, arrrh..hop...Ooooh, arrrh,Oooh,arrh..hop,hop,hop..  ), you cycle every Wednesday evening and Saturday - without fail, you spend all your spare time, when you're not cycling, either inputting things into that Strava 'thing', or ordering more useless items- that you don't need- from Ebay.  On top of that you read cycling magazines in bed, bring cycling up at every opportunity and 'bore' me, and everyone else within a five mile radius, stupid.  It was frankly, quite embarrassing, when on Saturday night you over heard a snippet of our friends intimate conversation:"....marriage can be a 'rocky road' and you assumed they were taking about 'Paris-Roubaix'.    And furthermore: I can't get my car in the garage - even though it's a double garage - because it's filled up with your bikes and associated cr@p!".

 I must admit I was quite shaken by all this.  I assumed I had a hobby, not a problem, but it has made me think seriously about cycling in an holistic and honest way.  I couldn't ignore what was happening; as the great man said: "The truth is incontrovertible.  Malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end there it is".  So therefore I have come to a painful decision:  I am going to sell my bikes and all associated paraphernalia, I will drive to work and I will cease to buy useless cr@p on Ebay.  I will devote more time to my partner, housework and earning money and will do my utmost to finally grow up.  Vicki did acknowledge that I should have a hobby and so I suggested that I might like to get involved in 'battle re-enactment', but only once or twice a year.  I explained to her that I had seen a full suit of armour for sale on ebay for £6,000, and then added 'It'll look smashing in our hall". I also suggested that she may like to join me as my 'fair lady': Unsurprisingly she has urged me not to do anything too hasty.  Now pass me that copy of cycling weekly I think I might treat myself to that 'Giant Wicked II'.

Good To Have Both Nick And JV Down The Pub Post Ride!

Le fin.

Peter Buss

Wednesday Chain Gang - Relentless

A Warm Welcome To First Time Chainganger , Kelvin! 

Thanks everyone for the get-well cards. The doctor is pleased with my progress and I was allowed out to play last night on condition I kept calm. I think I managed it. I took no chances and changed both the inner tube and tyre at the weekend and checked regularly for deflation – all good.

So, properly prepared, I rolled up to the start of the chain gang to see a large crowd of riders ready again to make the most of really good conditions. Yes, it could have been warmer, but it was dry with light winds, so a fast ride was on the cards.

We elected for two groups. Chris shouted out that only a dozen or so should ride as the ultras, but I had already decided (about a week ago) that I was going to set off with them and have the ride I should’ve had last week (I told you I was stubborn). I think nearly half the 34 riders I counted at the start went off in this group. Clearly, I was not the only one looking to push hard last night.

 We rode at a good but comfortable pace along the front, chatting and joking as we went. We also picked up a rider or two, one of whom fell in alongside me, unsure whether he could hold on. We both knew the speed would rise on South Cliff as the stronger chain gangers unleashed some of their awesome power. This stretch got me out of the saddle, but we soon crested the rise together and swept along the long downhill right hand bend to join Cooden Drive.

 Here again the pace rose. Once we had regrouped after the turn, Barney made the signal to rotate and I made my way down the outside and clipped into place on the front. Riders streamed past me to my right, taking the lead in turn before easing slightly to let the next rider in. We came to the Cooden bends at a good speed in two neat lines, flicking left and then making a sharper right turn to Herbrand. From here on I was winning – no puncture and no emergency stop inches from a vintage roller, as in last week’s ride. But could I hang on along Herbrand Walk, to date the furthest I have ridden with the ultras?

Second Time Appearance For Nigel !

 Well, this was a tougher test – the group accelerated to just under 44kph (27mph), ripping along and stretching out the group. I was holding on at this point, determined to stay in touch but near my limit, pedalling for all I was worth to reach the turn to the level crossing. Somehow, I hung on, and went down the outside of the group to take another turn at the front. The bends come fast and furious at this point – left, a kink to the right, another left, over the smaller bridge and then pelting towards the Star Inn bridge. I was still with the group and I thought, a bit optimistically, that I could go the whole way. But another test lay in wait – Spooky Hill. The stretch of road from the Inn to the level crossing turn is narrow and lined with potholes. The group negotiated these hazards and the oncoming traffic with aplomb, reverting to single file and keeping the pace up. By the time we hit the right hand bend we were riding at 27mph again, stretching our legs ready to tackle the hill.

 I pressed on hard, but fell back within the group as stronger riders went up the outside and made the summit before me. By the time I reached the top I was 20 metres adrift and puffing hard, George Welfare having dug deep and passed me at speed to join the now accelerating group. Ok, that was it, I did not have the legs to bridge the gap, so I settled into a rhythm I could maintain in a solo TT to the roundabout, arriving a minute or so behind the lead group. I counted those who had already arrived and those that came after me and made 37 riders in all, plus Ruth somewhere on a beach fixing a puncture (that’s what I was told)! A fantastic turnout and, given the numbers, a really good chain gang, with everyone riding well in their group.

The ride back was more free form, as is traditional. I somehow set out ahead of everyone, having told the most excellent Stuart H that his rear light was off. I rode on with someone behind me and was then overtaken by Neil Shier, who sped ahead. I pushed hard to reach him but he was on a mission, it seems. Ruth passed us in the other direction, heading toward the roundabout, bucket and spade on her handlebars. A larger group then overtook me and I tagged on, staying with them as far as the Star, I think, before hooking up with Simon G for a duo TT along Herbrand and onto Cooden Drive.

Simon shouted that he thought we were going to be joined by another rider. I looked back and thought it was a pair of car headlights, before being engulfed in a group that included Ruth, Stuart H and Tom. I was a bit stunned. ‘Grab a wheel’ shouted Tom, so I latched on and we flew along Cooden, up and over the bump (in my fastest time ever) and towards the lights. I rolled in alongside Simon G, we having agreed to ease off earlier than in past weeks as we neared the lights.

 A fast night! Lots of regulars had ridden hard, setting themselves a challenge for the night or merely going as fast as they could for as long as possible. Arriving riders leaned over their handlebars as they caught their breath, panting, spitting and coughing. A noisy crowd of nearly 40 riders gathered at the lights to talk about the chain, the Hard Riders TT or the rides they would make this weekend – a mass of bikes, lights and bright clothing.

 The ride to Normans Bay (to return Peter B to his rest home) was a more relaxed spin. Tom is happy with his new wheels and says his renovated bike is ‘smooth as silk’. This reminded me that mine is riding a bit rough at the moment; I think it is time for a new chain and cassette, maybe even new chain rings. But my thoughts were more focused at this point on getting home for sausage and mash, the food of champion cyclists the world over – truly.

Fri Night Ride- Communication Breakdown

Having rested during the week I was well up for a Friday night ride as it seems were others . This gave  the club a solid turnout of eight riders.

The first time Dave B came with us a few weeks ago,  we had to give him a 10 minute head start, last week we gave him a five minute start, this week we decided to give him a three minute start. Hopefully he would arrive at Broad Oak about the same time as the front riders?

At the last possible moment Steve D appeared just as we were about to set off down
Battery Hill. It was a cold, fairly windy and moonless night. Paul is normally a nervous descender like myself but on this occasion he came flying past me and I soon became out of touch with the others. It was at this moment at the very bottom of the hill that my rear tyre rapidly deflated, damn!

After balancing my lights on some stones to help me see what I was doing, I was confident of being able to fix the puncture quickly relying on a CO2 cylinder rather than furious pumping to get the tyre inflated again. Feeling inside the tyre I immediately found the cause of the problem. A very fine needle like sliver of metal was sticking through the rubber and into the tube. I would have to dig this out before sticking the new tube in. Unfortunately there was nothing to get hold of to pull it out and it would not budge. This was going to take longer than I thought. I didn't want to hold up the others and as it was so near the start I decided to ring the others up and tell them not to wait, I would just ride on my own. I tried ringing Simon, Nigel and Paul but there was no answer, so I left a text message instead. I also tried to ring Steve but for some reason his name didn't come up on the phone. I was starting to get cold so turned my attention back to the tyre. I could not get enough grip to push the sliver through and out the tyre so in the end I just broke it off and used the flat side of the tyre lever to flatten it down, this wasn't ideal but would have to do. A couple of mins later and the tyre was inflated again and I could set off . It was at this point that Steve rung me to see where I was , I told him that i was happy to carry on my own but he insisted that as he and Nigel  were there waiting for me , so I may as well continue the ride with them.

Putting the hammer down I soon caught up with Steve and Nigel F.Rather than go through the reserve we thought it would be good idea to stick to the main road so that we would have more chance of reducing the gap to the others.Nigel F was the best of our little group and so myself and Steve stuck behind him all the way to rye and up to Broad-oak (thanks for the tow Nigel)

Big Improvement In Climbing From Dave!

Arriving at Broadoak we thought that either there would be no one there (perhaps they had read the text message?) or they would be there waiting. What we hadn't expected was the sight of Dave B all on his own wondering where everyone was. The patient Dave had been waiting about ten minutes and at first assumed that he must be flying to get there so much sooner than everyone else, lol. It was then that the penny dropped and we realised that the others must have waited for us at the reserve (the bit we avoided using the main road!), oh dear! More phone calls failed to achieve a response and we were getting colder. Eventually some lights appeared, the guys had arrived, as well as waiting for us they too had suffered a puncture! I think we all agreed that the problems we had were a mixture of lots of bad luck  and communication but thank goodness  we were all together now .

We were so paranoid about leaving some one behind that when Dave got dropped on The 'Doleham Cut Through', we immediately stopped and waited for him to get back in the group before heading onto Westfield.

Our ride along and up Stonestile  was interrupted by the flashing blue lights of an ambulance racing down the lane and Simon's chain falling off right at the base of the main climb

I think it is safe to say it was not a 'classic Friday night' but look on the bright side we all got back home safely, unlike whoever that urgent ambulance was for!