Wednesday 4th November. Spencers Again

Was it only ten days ago that I navigated the Espressos (Espressi?) to this remote watering hole in the tangled Essex/Suffolk borders? Yes.

The other week we had the Eagle landing, in the form of Glen Grant. This week it was The Man From The Land Of The Condor. Now fully acquainted with Ecuador, our globe trotter Neil Dykes honoured us with his presence. We never take these migratory visits for granted, we are truly grateful for the sunshine and vitality that Neil brings to our parochial existences. As my tea time picture shows, Sharon is having to shield her eyes from the dazzle of Neil's effortless charisma.

As would be expected of such a seasoned traveller, Neil left nothing to chance. He made absolutely sure that if he was going to set out on a ride without spare tube, tyre levers, pump or money then the ride to choose would be this Wednesday's edition. Pete Gay was buying the teas in memory of a recent birthday and, when the inevitable puncture occurred there was no shortage of help with the entire operation. If you've remembered to attach your pannier for that round the world trip you've always promised yourself, the most important item to pop into it is LUCK.

This trip to Spencers, unlike the Espresso jaunt, contained riders who knew the way. I didn't let this deter me from leading. And following the same teasing route. And there were the same protests at the same point, and I ignored them again. Then we (I) took a left turn too many, which swung us a touch too far south, necessitating a swing westwards to Gestingthorpe (and missing out Belchamp Walter). Down in this area the land is quite sharply rumpled, producing a great many short sharp ascents that can be quite tiring. This lumpiness exposed the revelation that Sharon is not, after all, bionic. A 10k run the day before (fitted into a normal day's fitness and Pilates classes) followed by an 05:15 start to today, with a class completed before joining us - was beginning to take its toll, and the tea stop came just at the right time. It was about a couple of miles short of Spencers that Neil had his puncture. Naturally, most of us sped off to the Café so that we could sit down while we waited. We were greeted perfectly well, but the puncture party were very brusquely dealt with and only grudgingly led to join the rest of us. Justin was unimpressed, and mentioned as much to the lady in charge of the Farm Shop (different ownership). The struggle across unfamiliar territory may not be worth it if there's only a dusty welcome at the end . . . . . though thexperience was redeemed this time on account of Pete G picking up the tab. Many thanks.

T-T led us on a route that skirted to the west of Sudbury on a skilfull selection of quiet roads that were not too muddy, flinty or thorny. I still managed to get a puncture. Pearson's first. If you can imagine a bicycle having an expression, Pearson's was one of startled dismay - akin to a horse encountering a carrier bag. Rear wheel, as is the case with more punctures than would be expected using probability as a guide, but quite quickly dealt with. It's always location of the hole and then the cause that takes the time. I had more help than I could imagine that I deserve, including having my tyre pumped up and Justin slipping me a wet one (it's a moist hand cleaning tissue, since you ask).

Somewhere round this area, in the last three weeks, I remember that Richard and I saw a grass snake emerging from the verge, fat and smooth and green. We realised that neither of us had seen one before. Just thought I'd mention it. Can't remember why we didn't mention it to the rest of the ride.

As the pictures show, the weather was breathtakingly picturesque, and God's own county of Suffolk was displayed to perfection. The approach to Long Melford from Liston, past water meadows and over the river Stour. As we ambled homewards, Sharon faded a bit more - but graciously accepted that occasional push. I know from being on the receiving end what a life-saver this simple act can be - the benefit to the 'pushee' is vastly greater than the cost in effort to the 'pusher', and it can keep a ride on the move and get everyone home sooner than otherwise

The full composition of the peleton was Neil, Sharon, Justin, Peter H, Pete Gay, Jeff, Tiger Tony, T-T, SJH & Ron. I covered a bit over 60 miles. A lovely ride.