A Pleasant Ride, A Very Reasonable Tea & Another Fine Mess,

Wednesday 9th September had been forecast to be a scorcher, but was a rather more grudging affair on the day. The sun held itself back until later on, the wind was 'moderate' and from the North East.

We were a record -breaking fourteen riders, including three visitors from another age; racers from the seventies and eighties - (not the same thing as those riders actually in their sixties and seventies) - Neil Dykes, wearing well at just over the half century (still with the ravaged remains of his film star good looks and queasy charm) was backed up by that King of Retro Chic, Richard Muchmore, showing how to put a Mullett to good use, and the evergreen stylist Steve Mayes, Mr Colnago himself, always just a Quick-Step ahead.
Back in the peleton were Peters Heath and Hogg, Ron Fisher, Ed Bucknell, Mike Cross, Ann Fish, Sharon Calton, Jonathan Howe, Gareth Doman, Tony 'Tiger' Panting and your Blogger.
An amiable and uneventful roll across the unchallenging terrain to the North East to Diss, was marred only by a mechanical malfunction of my bike. CLICK-CLICK, CLICKETY-CLICK, CLICK-CLICK, CLICKETY-CLICK, CLICK-CLICK, every pedal revolution. "Bottom bracket" several old-timers muttered, "I don't think so" I riposted "Pedal" I surmised. "Madgetts'" we agreed.
Tea was at 'Mere Moments' (run by Sharon's sister). We were led around the back to a decked area with a view across the Mere. We filled all available space, lounging around and causing the sort of merry confusion that comes easily to a group of fourteen cyclists bent on tea-time fun. Peter called the meeting to order so that he could show us all his new blue shoes. No one trod on them, we merely gasped in admiration, as Peter moved on to item two on his agenda. Text from Justin in Provence. Le Mont Ventoux ascended, from Bedouin, in an astounding time of 1hr 37 min. Now I've climbed Ventoux a number of times, but I've always felt that the views and the experience were not to be rushed, thus even on my best attempt about twenty years ago I managed to take a civilised 2hrs 20m. These days I'm relishing a full three hours on the climb.
Justin is now a Grandpa which, as any fule kno is Grandpére in French - and which rhymes with 'grimpeur' which is French for a climber. Should he suffer a mishap on the descent, however, would he would become a 'Croque Monsieur'?
I munched my scones, gulped my tea and sped to Madgett's. It took Mick's lieutenant a couple of minutes to fix the noise - though he couldn't find anything actually loose. He tightened the pedal to the crank and the crank to the BB axle. All is now silky silence, and I may not be able to remove my left pedal, ever again.

We wound our way through the old town of Diss




On the way home, Sharon dropped her bottle. Mike gallantly went back to pick it up, I gallantly stopped to see that all was well. We set off to catch up with the others, passing the right turn to Walsham which would have been a route option, but there was no sign of red jerseys so we sped along at 26-7 mph in hot (ish) pursuit until near Finningham when we realised we'd never see them again that day. Peter e-mailed me to say that they'd waited for quite a while (but out of sight) and that Neil had, gallantly, offered to try and find us and then meet-up in Walsham. For his pains he was beaten in the sprint for the sign.
So a second week with a split. Not a long ride (49m for me) but a large one. It's just so easy to lose people. Still, we had an enjoyable last few miles, and I learned about Sharon & Mikes' successes in the Triathlon world. Never too old to learn, eh?

This was pronounced by Peter Heath to be the cheapest tea stop for a very long time indeed (probably since the previous cheapest tea stop, whenever and where ever that might have been). Not just remarkably reasonable, but reasonably remarkable quality as well. VGFM in fact.