24 February 2010. Oh Alright then, Ipswich it is

Woken by wife at 0700; "you might want to go on the ride today, it's not raining and the temperature is above freezing". I don't need asking twice, when it comes to this sort of suggestion. It is on a par with "shall we open another bottle?" "fancy lunch at [fill in name of restaurant here]?" and "How about an early night?"

Down at the Bus Shelter, there was a decent group of eager bikies, and the usual discussion of destination. Justin wanted to call in at his Cycling Tailor, at Elmy Cycles in Ipswich; Tom-Tom had the route. Decision made. Wind not quite in the ideal quarter, but nothing we hard riders couldn't cope with.

Those setting out were Peter H, Justin, Tom-Tom, Ed Bucknell, Richard Balaam, Sharon, Simon Bourne, Ron Fisher, and SJH, the weather, though dry and warm-er (or -ish) was very definitely grey (or gray). The route was straightforward, via Tostock and Elmswell, then Haughley New Street and the 'old' A14. No deviation, in fact, from roads that had, in their heyday been trunk roads that still were wide but now largely quiet, and the surface not as robust as it had been in their youth. At the junction with the A140 (in fact its inception) we negotiate the huge traffic island, and take the A14 slip road - but nip off left before the big road begins. T-T leads us, as before, on a complicated route first made up of run-down suburbia, then mean-looking streets (Policeman Simon reassured us that theses areas were absolutely fine, so long as we kept moving) followed by the more prosperous areas near to whichever Park we passed, and finally bringing us out a few yards from Elmy Cycles, where I took the "does my bum look big in this?" photo of Justin. After a short while considering various alternative garments, and ordering another (it may have been only half an hour) we repaired to the Café at DanceEast (called DanceEats - geddit?). Here Ron and I had bacon baguettes (Ron reminded me that this was what we had so much enjoyed on our last visit). T-T was dismayed that he'd forgotten, and ordered only a scone. My Cappuccino was so finely presented that I just had to record it .

As we left the café, it had begun to drizzle - which accentuated the usual impact of leaving the warmth and security of tea stop. We set off on the same, complex, T-T route home that we used the last time that I came to Dance Eats, including the set of steps leading down to an underpass beneath the A14 that leads to Sproughton. Apparently, long, long ago, T-T lived in Sproughton , and this was his commute route (in reverse, obviously). Conquered personal demons and rode down the steps. Wasn't noticeably quicker than walking, but way more thrilling. A straightforward journey via Needham and Stow Markets, Onehouse and Woolpit (except that I took a left at Borley Green to join my short cut home) produced a 52 mile total which, added to my (frighteningly low) total for Feb so far of a mere 80 means a huge leap forward; and considerable fatigue. Well OK, "tired but happy" probably covers it -or "you look dreadful" as Susan put it. SJH

February 3rd 2010 Shock, Horror - Club Run to Ipswich via A14

Wednesday February 3rd

The BBC’s weather forecast at 8am was preceded by a general warning of icy roads after an overnight freeze, following the previous day’s rain. The signs didn’t look good as 8 riders assembled in the bus shelter to discuss possible routes. Justin thought it best to be cautious and postpone the ride as the risk of injury was too great.

As if on cue Stephen rang Justin to say he’d come to grief on black ice on the way in, was injured and would struggle home. We later learned that Peter Gay had struggled manfully from Rickinghall but he too then came crashing down around Bardwell, found it difficult to even walk and set off for home on foot, eventually remounting at Walsham. Result for Peter was a bruised hip, (the good one), and thumb, with some road rash.

Stephen meanwhile made it home and went to the surgery where his damaged knee was dressed; he was later able to get to work in his studio as the ‘walking wounded’. Stern stuff the Wheelers you know. So the forecast was right then Julian!

Meanwhile back in the shelter, feet shuffled, gradually becoming colder and colder. The mood was sombre and it was generally agreed to postpone the ride until the following day. Gareth had taken some trouble to make arrangements with his wife so he could get to the ride with colleague Darren, and looked disappointed, Sharon likewise but she had already worked out with a client that morning. Tony and Justin were keen to call things off, - so the ride dis-assembled, as Richard Balaam rode away.

Tom-Tom rode round with Peter to pick up a magazine and ponder a safe route when he said, “Shall we just do it?” Peter glanced at his Airborne bike leaning against the wall of the house and the model name, ‘Carpe Diem’ seemed to take on a new significance. ‘Seize the day’ it spoke to him. It was settled; a higher authority had intervened and lit the way. We would indeed seize the day and make for the Dance Eats Café in Ipswich. We would uphold the honour of the Wheelers by refusing to be brow-beaten by a little black ice.

We thought that if we could negotiate Tostock Hill we would be home and dry, except for finding an ice-free route to Stowmarket.

Richard had it in an instant; “We can drop onto the A14”! Peter baulked, - “Onto the A14”? thinking Rich had lost the plot.
“ No it’ll be alright, if we go down the slip road from the Woolpit island there is a long run-on and just as we make the A14, there is the turn for Haughley!

And so it was that a Wheelers Club Run actually and deliberately turned onto the A14, but with a certain knowledge and sense of purpose. Sure enough, just as Peter was becoming fearful of the speeding HGVs, coming ever closer, all was peace and quiet again as we turned for Haughley. We had made it. Alive! Tom-Tom had triumphed again.

The rest, as they say, is history, totally ice free roads through Stowmarket, Needham Market, Great Blakenham, Claydon and through the outlying estates surrounding Ipswich. We celebrated our arrival on the Ipswich waterfront at 11:05 by ordering cheese and fruit scones with the tea in the Dance Eats café. Once again we were made welcome with a “Where are the rest of you?” We made excuses, making sure not to use the word ‘Wimp’ at all. Well not often anyway.

On a quality note the cheese scones were delightful but the fruit scones contained cinnamon and were not to our liking. Peter made a mental note to let chef Andrew know of our displeasure but he was too busy with serving lithe, long-legged, dancers; not that we noticed of course. This leaning towards an American scone recipe was logged for another visit; we really must put this café on the road to at least standing a chance of one of our awards.

After a pleasant hour the intrepid pair returned through Sproughton, Bramford and on to Great Blakenham for home. At Sproughton, Peter learned that Richard had moved into the village just after the second world war, and used to cycle to school in Bramford. In those days he said, children living outside a radius of 3 miles from the school were provided with cycles for their journey to school! How enlightened were the authorities then and when did it all go wrong? Just think of kids now being provided with cycles, what a difference that would make to their health and wellbeing. Richard pointed out that Kesgrave High School currently has one of the highest levels of children cycling to school in the country so it’s not all bad news.

At Stowmarket we boldly took the road for Onehouse, deciding to risk the road from there to Woolpit. We only saw ice at the road edges and sailed smoothly into Richard’s home village, where we sampled the delights of a10 year old Bushmills Malt, followed by Rich’s homemade Damson Vodka, just the thing for warming the cockles, all washed down with lashings of tea. Peter can recall little of the ride home via Tostock hill but arrived safely at 2:20pm after a gloriously sunlit 51 miles.

We wish the day’s casualties a speedy recovery.

Carpe Diem!

Peter Heath

Rembrance Day Wednesday 2009.

"Let's go to Clare" I suggest to the Bus Stop Bunch as we take turns at guessing what the grudging morning's weather will do between 09:00 and lunchtime. Peter Heath arrives and tells us that we could go to Ipswich, and the new café at the new Dance East dance centre on the Quay (It's called Dance Eats, by the way. A gift for dyslexic jokes). I am sceptical. Curmudgeonly, even. But I give in to the general mood and we set off for what I just know is going to be an awful ride through Ipswich and out again. "It's somewhere different" said Peter "So's Gt. Yarmouth" I thought (having recently taken a trip there).

We were ten to start with. A surprise guest appearance by David Young, organiser of WSW's very own version of Rollapalusa (Saturday 21 Nov at Horringer Village Hall), Juliet McGuire (another time-juggling lady, who must turn for home early) T-T, Tiger-Tony, Jeff, Ron, Peter, Justin, Pete G & SJH.

Richard T-T led us on a superbly ingenious route, which took us through quiet, leafy suburban avenues - passing Christchurch Park just as the guns signalled the Silence at 11.00 - and emerging barely a quarter of a mile from the Quays. DanceEats is excellent, with efficient service from a chef in immaculate whites and top food at keen prices. My bacon baguette and pot of tea came to a credit-crunch beating £3 - and the ketchup came in a dish! Better still, the place is done out in club colours; red chairs, red logos on the windows - red doors to the loos. In fact I went a bit over the top with the snaps, the photo-ops were so hard to resist.

Photo points to make: In fairness to Jeff, these doors are inexplicably 10 feet tall - you probably need to be an architect to understand why (10ft = 3.05m - do your own calculations for spans, cubits & ells); There is more than one Peter Heath in one of the photos; Peter & Justin were able to rehearse one of the pauses in an upcoming production by U3A of a lesser-known Pinter play called 'The Tea Party'; No actual mirrors were used; No cyclists were mistreated in the course of the photo shoot.

As you will see if you follow the Dance Eats link, they have no photo of the really impressive building they've spent a fortune of our money building. I guess they're working on it but . . . . . . it does seem a bit odd. Just check out the staircase and chandelier. After an extended tea we rode along the quay to the floating restaurant the used to be called Il Punto but was renamed Mariners (How dull) so that we could have a group shot. We couldn't find a suitable group, nor anyone prepared to shoot them, so I took a photo instead. After this further delay, T-T threaded us out of Ipswich very skillfully, using an old cycle-commuting route that took us under the A14 to Spraughton. Thrilling. Sixty miles covered, but not home until 1.45, mainly due to enjoying Ipswich. My apologies for being a curmudgeon at the start. SJH