Last Wednesday of 2009 - Four Richards and a Few Others

Eleven Mercredistes raring to go, hanging round the bus shelter. The 'net had hummed the previous day with doubts of the wisdom of even attempting a ride, because of the extreme cold. I write on the 9th of January, looking out onto the Winter Wonderland that is our garden, slumbering under a fresh fluffy blanket of driest crispest snow 3 1/4" deep, and marvel at our timidity. It was all down to Health (preservation of ours) and Safety (opportunities for falling off).

The Four Richards were Balaam, Farrow, Muchmore and Seggar. The Few Others comprised Barry, Peter Heath, Julian Colman, Paul Callow, (pictured doing his soon-to-be famous Edward Scissorhands impression) Ron Fisher, Glen Grant (Eagle Road Club) and your correspondent SJH. There was ice to be negotiated, but we weren't restricted in choice of roads, as even lanes were largely clear of snow. Last Wednesday didn't happen due to quite a lot of snow and a great deal of ill-health, so the year totters to an end with dwindling mileages, Peter Heath missing his 7,000 mile target (I later discover) by the maddening margin of 49 Miles. I understand that Justin may have broken the 8,000 mile barrier. My total (and I've only kept a record in one year - 2003 when it was 3,345 - since I was 16) is a modest but improving 5,611. You are all encouraged to post your totals in the 'comments' box below. We get very few, and the most recent was in Chinese; using Google translator, it turned out to be an invitation to a sex website. China's a long way to go for that sort of thing. As a film critic once said "if I want sadistic violence and gratuitous sex, I can get it at home".

So off we went Diss-wards, under the guidance of Richard 'Tom-Tom' Seggar, through varied landscapes of woodland and fen. There was, we found, less ice and snow than there was muck'n'mud, so those without 'guards got a thorough splattering. Though Chairman Barry did sport a minimal 'tail' (I've used them myself; very good at keeping the worst off the nether regions but no use for those following) it wasn't enough to prevent a complaint from Tom-Tom (click on the pic for full impact). I really should have taken a photo of Glen - who was far, far worse off. So wet and cold and grey. A Proper Winter club run.

We reached Diss in good time and made a perfect stack of bikes in front of Mere Moments where, as usual, we were warmly welcomed in spite of our ferociously muddy appearance. They were deservedly busy, so we had to split up to enjoy our tea and comestibles. Julian appeared to have been pampered, what with the individual tray of beans on toast as he sat in his armchair. The range of customers was very wide, as you can see from the snap of Peter with Richards B and T-T surrounded by a cross section of Diss polite society. Trips to the loo are not for those of a nervous disposition and look-style cleats involving, as they do, an iron spiral staircase followed by a step up then two further steps down - the last of which could be a surprise if you were in a hurry.

An uneventful trundle home to bring a total of 46 miles. But the day became eventful once back at Thurston. Peter and Glenn take up the story.

Had a phone call from the wife of Glenn Grant, the Eagle RC rider with us today to say he had lost his car keys, (parked at Thurston Railway Station) and could I tell them the name of our tea stop today......Mere Moments. Glenn had been rescued by his brother and taken back to Diss in the car, where Glenn thought the key might have fallen from his pocket when he took out his wallet to pay his bill.

Thing is, today was a special Christmas Lunch being held at Grant's parents in law in Bury in honour of visitors from Australia and Sweden. Glenn was desperate not to be late for it, I tried to placate his wife!! Hope he found the key, rescued his car, and his lunch was not in the dog!

Glenn, please let me know the outcome of your misfortune as I was concerned but felt helpless as I didn't even have the car to drive you around, take you home etc. Were the rest of the family speaking to you?

Peter
Got taken up to Diss to see if I'd left my keys at the cafe. Arrived at Diss and found them in one of my jersey pockets (don't ask). Total idiocy on my part!
Luckily there were no dinner issues - mobile phones used to warn of delays etc. Had a lovely Christmas lunch.
Thanks for the ride today - 46.63 miles, 1257 feet climbed, Avg speed 15.2mph. I'll try and hook up to a local waypoint and see how accurate the Garmin's altimeter is against a known height. Glenn

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.