Espresso Ride 20 June 2010. Return of the Blogger

So where did May go? What happened?
But I'm back on the keyboard, and here we go.

It was a cold day for Fathers, but the wardrobe decisions ranged from shorts'n'short sleeves to longs'n'long - that is from June to early March. We March Hares were the most comfortable on the way out, whereas the June Bugs were more at ease on the run home.

We listened, with feigned sympathy, as Dean told us about his struggle on the Bury '100'. 4h 35m glued to Brian Phillips' wheel "he was going like a train" wailed our Sunday Tormentor. Some of us wore sympathetic expressions, but not all.


Having counted the names on the register, I have a total of 11 names - but someone said there were 14 of us - if you read this and your name's missing, tell me. There were the two 'Syngenta' gentlemen (is one of you Simon?) riding strongly in preparation for London-Paris (in a planned two days), guest appearances by Richard Farrow (ex Wheeler and currently Chippenham & District)No one was able to come up with a route. The wind was from the North West, and I'd told Deane that we would NOT be going to Ely (the otherwise logical destination). So I led the group out via well travelled routes towards Knettishall and beyond. At the point when Mark (who had ridden in from Gazeley and was thus some 18 miles ahead of the game) asked me how far we were from the tea stop, I realised that we were heading in a rather more northerly direction than I had planned. "I reckoned on another ten miles, to give us between 30 and 35 miles before tea - and then 20-25 afterwards" I reassured him. "yes, but how far is it going to be" countered the ever-direct Mark. "Ten miles" I replied, whilst concentrating on a silent prayer that I might be right. We were heading towards Attleborough, but I was rescued by a sign to Old Buckenham to our right, which meant that we could join the B1077 Diss-wards . We were picking up the first signs of a tailwind at this point and, 4 miles short of Diss I took a punt on a left across Boyland Common - which gave us a full-on tailwind and bursts of 28/29 mph with sweeping bends and good visibility. My choice was vindicated by Sharon's local knowledge (though I only found this out after we were committed). We were within a mile of Bressingham, a destination often greeted with "Oh, not again", and yet those at the front still had no idea which way to turn (sorry, I can be quite waspish at times) . We arrive at refreshment within the estimated ten miles, and on time (11am). Rather more efficient service at Blooms, and excellent scones (that seemed to have been crossed with rock cakes). Paul bought (and ate, see picture) a confection that resembled a chocolate vuvuzela. I note from my snaps that several riders look tired. Note on Vuvuzelas; I think that this could be the third person plural of an irregular, reflexive, French verb "vous vous Zela".

Our return was by means one of the more direct routes, and taken at a fairly brisk, wind-assisted pace. After I had peeled off at Norton, and gone through the side gate into our garden, I realised two things. (1) No one was at home - which I should have remembered and (2) I was still feeling fresh, and could have gone with the group back to Bury, and clocked a total of 76 instead of 62 miles.

In the bathroom was a card and present from Polly, my photo captures the scene

SJH

10 March 2010. Peter goes home early and I change gear.

Justin, Peter H, Richard B, TT, Sharon, Jonathan, Ron, Tiger Tony, SJH. Great to see Tiger out again - he's been absent far too long. Said he was feeling better, so naturally we did our best to drop him on the way back. Also good to see Jonathan out mid-week - could this become a regular thing?
A dry but largely grey and mostly cold day; Justin was up for a long ride, Peter needed to be home early for an afternoon departure for North Wales. Harleston (Norfolk, not just outside Stowmarket) was mentioned by TT, and some of us thought that that was where we were going to go, right up until we swung into the car park at Bloom's of Bressingham. There was a stiff-ish North-ish breeze in our faces as we pedalled out, and TT managed to find a few combinations of road not recently used which, when added to well-worn routes was a bit dis-orienting (Diss was another destination, in fact, but was diss-missed due to nine riders being rather too many for Mere Moments on a busy Wednesday morning).

The only photo that I took was the one at the top of the story. The forest of new retro cake stands made a huge impression - but I still stuck to my scone and jam (another crumbly scone; great for taste but a b*gg*r to butter). I nipped out early to turn my wheel round for the tailwind home run. 51 miles when I swung down the drive and, unlike Sunday, I actually felt human. SJH

20 January 2010; Nearly a record turnout.

We were an impressive thirteen at the bus shelter. We couldn't be IN because of the numbers. It was cold and grey, but evidently not too cold for Gareth's chum Darren to come out without socks or overshoes (only concession to the close-to-zero temperature was [were?] his three quarter longs). His recent cycling background has been in MTB, which may go some way to explain things. The other eleven were TomTom, Peters H and G, Justin, Tiger Tony, Richard Balaam, Sharon, Ron, Ann Fish, Mike Bowen and SJH.

We were Bressingham-bound, and TomTom led us on an unusual route ("I'm lost" he confided to me at one point) that maintained an air of mystery and confusion that kept us on our toes. Don't ask me where we went - I wasn't on my toes and was barely paying attention (in spite of pretending to T-T that I knew what he was up to).

I must apologise for the rather dull photos; as so often with clubruns the easiest time to take a snap is when we are all stationary for a puncture; the one featured was Richard Balaam's. One of my shots has Peter Heath casting a newly trained eye on the tyre and tube, locating the possible site of the damage. In the distance you can just make out the other third of the ride - the last section of Mercrédists had pulled in for a pit stop at a sugar beet-loading area down the road. I think the only larger ride on a Wednesday was for my birthday, when we were fourteen freeloaders (or rather, one Birthday Boy and thirteen chums keen to help him celebrate). Next week (27th January) will be the first after Peter Heath's 63rd, Monday 25th, which was spent in London. Might be worth turning up in strength - except I'm too late with this blog, unless you're sad enough to check your mail before coming out. There was a very long wait at Blooms of Bressingham when we arrived, because there was only one member of staff serving, and she took over five minutes to construct an Espresso for the lady at the head of the queue 16 (she was with a friend, for those who are keeping up with the numbers). Two chaps appeared eventually, but there was still a lack of urgency and organisation; Mike Bowen organises truck drivers with both of those qualities ( that is to say that he organises them with organisation & urgency to deliver with O & U) and he was getting very twitchy at the delay.

Once spread across three tables, we relaxed, browsed, sluiced and chatted in a barely organised way with no sense of urgency at all. We returned via Lopham & Redgrave Fens, and my favourite windmill at Thelnetham (I think - the place, that is. I know what a windmill looks like)

Appallingly, though it's only 6 days since the ride, I can't remember exactly how far we (I) went, but I fancy that it was around 56 miles. SJH

November 8, 2009. A well-ordered Espresso ride

In the week that Johnny Helms died, we had the perfect Helms dog run out from a garden to our right, and straight into the bunch at third wheel. How we avoided falling in a heap I am uncertain - perhaps the spirit of Helms was watching over us. The mutt whirled round and ran back from whence he had come without being hit -how? It was white, and terrier-like and we were lucky.
This happened on our way back from Bressingham but I can't recall exactly where - though I'll recognise it next time we pass. Some cottages on the right, we nearly always pass them on the way home from Diss, watch out for the dog. After a fairly extensive trawl through the net, would you believe that I couldn't find a single cartoon with a dog in it, innit?

Surviving this incident were: Julian, Justin, Neil, Martin, Pauls R, C, & B, Glynn, Ron, Deane & SJH.

With the wind from the NE, Bressingham was a no brainer. The pace was remarkably steady both out and back. We had two punctures, one for Paul Barry and one for Julian (unencumbered by family on this occasion). Brownie points all round as the short-ish (60m) distance meant we were all back by lunch time. I slightly livened things up by stealing Neil's bike as we left Blooms. Previous research has established that use the same saddle height and spd pedals, so jumping on and pedalling away was simplicity itself. Neil looked comfortable on fixed for the first time in ever so many years, lasting until Redgrave before requesting a swap. I must say, his Tarmac Pro seems to weigh about 5/8 of f*** all and require minimal effort in the propulsion department - plus, of course, that amazing trick of being able to stop pedalling! - Will freewheels catch on? Some say it's just an unnecessary over-complication, others see it as the way forward. The jury's still out. Take care out there. SJH

Flat, Fast & Flat Out at Times

It was a reasonably disciplined ride.

Talk in Cornhill was centred on Peter Balls' success on the track at Welwyn yesterday, winning the individual pursuit in whatever championships were being held. There will be a report from Adi soon.
We were 16 this morning. 15 of us arrived (unsurprisingly) by bicycle and Neil arrived by speedy Motor, with his bike in the boot and dressed in not quite enough cycling kit. Mark Harris remarked that elements of Neil's current life style seemed to have led to a certain lack of attention to the wearing of sufficient clothing. Sounds of mirth echoed round Bury's historic city centre.
To general relief it was decided that we would go to Bressingham for tea - the wind was in the right quarter and there are no hills around Diss. It wasn't long before the first puncture - in fact it was before Ixworth - struck. The lucky rider was Julian Colman, who went for the bonus ball in life's anti-lottery by having the first replacement tube blow up on him. I know that CO2 cartridge thingies are supposed to be ever so good for blowing up tyres, but I hadn't considered it in quite this way - and in an explosion of gas, too. Fortunately, most of us were a safe distance away, as usual, though Hugh and John seemed dangerously close. Neil, sensing a rather long delay, finally went to investigate and managed to arrive just as everything was being put back together. This enabled him to hint at having 'sorted it all out'.

While we waited, chatting, Adi raised a minor niggle about these blogs; he felt that we were representing the club as a group that spent nearly all its time sitting in cafés. Well, Adi, how can I put this . . . .I think, in all fairness, that I should point out that shortly after the photos above were taken Adi leapt on his bike and, at a thundering pace, led the a struggling bunch all the way to Stanton before he swung off the front.

So anyway, puncture fixed, Ixworth disappearing behind us, and an arcing route (that's a hard 'c' by the way) out near the various Harlings to Quidenham (home of Quiddich, of course) where we took a brief architectural detour so that Neil could share with us his enthusiasm for the Village Hall, and excellent example of Tesco Revival vernacular. Ron Fisher and I took to the front at this point, and navigated faultlessly to join the A1066 about 400yds North of Blooms. Neil, Mark. Ron and I were pleased to have got to the counter first. When we made our way to a table we noticed that a huge queue of 13 cyclists had formed behind us. Whew! lucky or what?

We set off on the time-honoured route south on 1066, then left down Freezen Hill (I was spared the humour, because the weather was merely warm, neither hot nor cold enough for irony). Neil hit the front like a man fuelled by 1.5 scones (I knew I shouldn't have shared my second one with him) and pounded out a brisk tempo. Andy joined him, and upped the stakes. Neil raised him to 24mph Andy saw this and now we were doing 27mph. There were complaints. Sense prevailed, we eased. Richard Stiff and I, as Nortonites, peeled off at Pakenham, the rest of the field - sorry, 'ride' headed off towards Bury. I covered 62 at around 17.8mph. We didn't split (well, not permanently) and there was only one puncture

Those taking part: Juliette McGuire & partner, Mark Harris, Lord Dykes, Andy, Mike Bowen, Ron Fisher, John Dumont, Ed Bucknell, Deane Hill, Adi Grimwood, Julian Colman, Hugh O'Neill, Richard Stiff, Paul Callow and one's self.

SJH