Wed 9th Dec 2009. We wind up in Wymondham for a brief encounter.

The intrepid Wednesday regulars (New strap line "We do the miles so you don't have to") have decided, in the face of logic, sensibility and the certainty of returning into a headwind, to go to Wymondham. Peter Gay, who rides in from Rickinghall, could vouch for the wind direction - but the Tea Stop we have decided on was his idea and he has been keen to take us there for quite some time. The weather was chilly but supportable, and the eight of us enjoyed a steady ride with intermittent sunshine all the way to Attleborough. There was a pause for puerile humour as ride Members Ron, Richard, Gareth, Peter Heath and Tony posed to pose round the altered sign for Wiley road.

Some of us had been to Attleborough on the Espresso ride (20 September), when we had a jolly tea at tables on the pavement in the warm autumn sunshine. There was discussion about the wisdom of carrying on to Wymondham (I was puzzled at the un-wisdom of NOT going, since it was the whole reason for coming out this way in the first place). Little groups rode of in different directions looking for . . .er . . something or other and came back with nothing to report so at last we set off again, along a main-ish road for a disputed distance. I guessed about five miles, some said ten. It was around 6, and well worth it. We turned left, away from the town centre and towards the station where, to our delight, there was a Café/ Restaurant with a "Brief Encounter" theme, stuffed with railway memorabilia and serving good food and tea in quite lavish surroundings. Certainly a contrast for Ann Fish, just returned from a cycle tour of Thailand and Cambodia. The temperature difference was another shock to her system - steaming humidity to near-zero dry cold, plus Wheelers' speed as opposed to tourism pace.

After a tour of the 'Dining Car' themed area, and viewing of the many posters and artifacts, we reluctantly remounted and head home. The route was different,and maybe a touch bleak, but round these parts there's less choice than in our dear and more familiar Suffolk. Oh, and the headwind was there Ok. When I reached home my total was 62 miles, but as you can see from the snaps, it was worth it. SJH

Sunday 6th December 2009. A drenched Quartet leave their mark Hollowtrees.

The morning after the night before, and the rain is already heavy. It had been forecast several days ago that Sunday would be wet, and the majority of those who attended the WSW Club Dinner at Bury St Edmunds Golf Club on Saturday night the fifth had already decided to NOT go out. I thought that I was the only soft-headed idiot when I arrived at Cornhill and threaded my way through the Sunday Market stalls, clattering with the noises of setting up and abuzz with the shouts of greeting, commiseration, disgust at the weather and despair with the football. Possibly the reason, at the back of my mind, for turning out was the receipt of the Ensign Trophy for Club Run Attendance. A huge and impressive cup, for just turning up! Oh, and I picked up the Hill Climb Trophy, by default really. For just turning up. "Gotta be innit to winnit" eh?

No one else in funny clothes. Oh good, I can do a quick ride, straight home AND feel virtuously smug. Then I saw Nathan, accompanied by another Dr Tom who has been riding out with Il Cappuccini of late, and is from Woolpit rather than Ixworth. Then Julian hove into site , making a total of four soft-headed idiots. We discussed tactics. Julian and I won the brief discussion, and the four of us set off for a shortish (possibly no tea stop) ride. As we headed broadly southwards, the wind got stronger and stronger and the constant heavy rain was livened up by vicious squalls that nearly brought us to a standstill. Shouting "bring it on!" and pedalling harder seemed to be the only (and rather embarrassing, looking back on it) solution. We hardened in our resolve to skip the tea stop, with all the usual arguments around getting cold and not wanting to set off again being used to defeat poor Nathan who's mind's eye was dominated by cake.

Then, very very gradually the rain began to ease. As we rode through Lavenham it had stopped. We reversed our tea stop decision and took ourselves off to Woodlands Coffee Shop, at Hollow Trees Farm near Semer. There, got the complete and correct title in (see Wednesday 2nd Dec Blog).

The presentation of the baked beans was worth a picture (if not a thousand words) and flavour matched the flair. While munching away, we were joined by the Cappuccinos, and we graciously allowed them to accompany us home. Mark Eastwood was on 63" fixed, which rather upstaged me I have to say. His red Mercian road frame looking beautifully spindly and elegant and sporting an ingenious arrangement for the rear brake; because the caliper wasn't long enough to reach the rime of a 700c wheel if normally positioned, he had mounted it in front of the brake bridge instead. It was a while before I'd worked out what exactly it was that was different. By now the sun had come out and we had a bit of a tail wind and all was right with the world. How rides can change. You can be nearly dropped, wet, exhausted and aching - but half an hour later it's all sunlit uplands and a heart bursting with joy as you speed effortlessly in the good natured company of your co-equipiers.

Or something.

A nice round 50 miles SJH

Wednesday 2nd December

It was decided that we should call in at Hollowtrees Farm to arrange our booking for the Grand Wednesday Ride Christmas Luncheon Outing. Now I think I should point out that the correct title of catering outlet is "WOODLANDS COFFEE SHOP", I am guilty of referring to it as 'Semer' or 'Hollowtrees'. I think it's time we got it right, don't you? Richard sorted a slightly varied route to our current favourite watering hole which (and I'm writing this at Christmas, so and here is our pleasant lady's reply:-

I'm the lady who was in the Number One Deli in Clare, Suffolk on Wednesday, 25 November, who you were kind enough to buy a cappuccino for as I had moved tables so that you could all sit together... One of you, whose name I didn't catch, has cycled around the Isles of Harris and Lewis in the Outer Hebrides and knows of my sister's restaurant, The Anchorage, in Leverburgh on the Isle of Harris. My sister, Sally Lessi, asked me to say hello and to ask you your name as she does remember you coming in with a group of other cyclists, but can't remember what you look like specifically. Hope you don't mind my emailing you, got the email address from your website.

Thank you.

Sarah Golding
sarahgolding@msn.com

22 November '09: Blue skies, Sunshine and Torrential rain

Seven stalwarts rolled away from the stockade, formally known as Woolworths, and headed south, ultimate destination: Hollow Trees (winner of the prestigious Tea room of the year award from the Wednesday run). They were: SJH, the Pauls C and R, Deane, Julian, Ron and Justin.

A clear blue sky and sunshine made the forecast of rain by noon an unlikely prospect. Dodging where possible the puddles of standing water, we headed over the lumps and bumps of the Hawstead and Lawshall road. A left-turn at Shimpling, towards Bridge Street, was necessary if we were to deliver SJH and Paul C into the arms of a backwind for their return home for early baths. They stayed the course until the centre of Lavenham, where the depleted bunch turned right towards Brent Eleigh. In order to meet one of Deane’s pre-coffee requirements, we needed to clock up at least 30 miles before stopping. This was achieved by turning right towards Milden. As we crested the hill that winds up to the crossroads Deane decided that a little tri-bar session was just the thing to cope with the rising headwind. Now we all know that tri-bars can turn an even paced clubrun into a team time trial, as the misguided hunchback suddenly becomes Chris Boardman. And let’s face it, Deane needs tri-bars like Lee Evans needs amphetamines. Onwards through Groton –

Home of John Winthrop who helped in the development of New England. In 1630 he emigrated to take charge of the Massachusetts Company, founded the city of Boston and became first Governor of the State of Massachusetts. He was described as the ‘Father of New England’. –

and down into Boxford, with Deane riding point 100 yards ahead of the group. Skirting Kersey and its raging ford we circled round and made for Hollow Trees, arriving at 1100 with over 30 miles done. Deane was happy and contented. The remaining Paul resisted the temptations of tea and cake and kept on rolling. And so we were four - but not for long.

We’d only been seated for 10 minutes when who should arrive but none other than the Wheelers’ Cappuccino ride. We exchanged pleasantries before heading to Lifecycle for some running repairs on Ron’s rear mech. Nathan decided to jump ship from the Cappuccino boys and joined us. From Bildeston we made our way home via One House and Woolpit. As we were riding past Tostock Towers the heavens opened. Just then one of the residents of TTs edged his vehicle out of the drive, almost coming out in our path but stopping just in time. Must report him to the Lord of the Manor (I think he was driving a Passat). The rain increased to what must have been Cockermouth proportions - although they had had 12 inches worth in a day! On the way back there had been the odd plaintive cry from Julian who had punctured in both legs. But as we parted company in Thurston he had regained his composure and was last seen following Nathan back to Bury. Another day, another load of wet kit on the kitchen floor, and another 54 miles on the clock. Blue skies, sunshine and torrential rain. I was reminded of Julian’s quote: ‘We don’t have a climate in the UK, just weather systems’. How true.

JW

Eight Old Men Suffer with Wind

I had had an idea. I needed a very small hinge, and had been told that the place to go was Partridges in Hadleigh. Since space wouldn't be a problem (I needed the smallest hinge possible) we could combine my shopping with a tea taken at "The Orangery". Everything hinged on gaining the agreement of the majority of the ride. Ask any politician, and he'll tell you that the electorate often arrive at the wrong answer. L'Equipe de Mercredi are a sensible bunch, and we set off for Hadleigh. Those voting in favour: Pete Gay, Peter Heath, Justin, Ron, Tony, T-T, Barry & SJH.

After a brief briefing with T-T, I risked leading us in the direction that I thought we'd agreed - until I went wrong, and T-T took the wheel and steered us faultlessly for the rest of the way. The wind was ferocious. Because we were riding through Suffolk, on rolling Suffolk roads, we were bashed and buffeted from each side in turn, then head on, with occasional whooshes of tailwind. Always a worry, getting a tailwind when you think you're riding into the proverbial prevailing. We made one of our increasingly frequent visits to Offton, turned right down the dip and up, then a left fork for the truly brutally steep climb towards Flowton. My veins, eyes and muscles swelled and popped with effort as the air rang to the sound of desperate downward changes of variable accuracy (and we all thought that indexing would bring an end to all that clattering and expleting). Richard T-T had the good grace to avoid 'The Channel'.

Now here's a thing; searching Google, I just typed 'Flowton, The Channel, Suffolk' - and the second entry was for my Blog about 'going with the Flowton' and linked back to the WSW website. A measure of success? I like to think so.

Cut to the chase. We've just breasted the summit of the Cote de Flowton, all now gasping for breath (possible exception Ron Fisher, who is showing excellent form after five weeks in Oz with no cycling - what else did he get up to?) and are avoiding The Channel, and heading broadly Hadleigh-wards. We join a road signposted 'Hadleigh 4' , then almost immediately left it by means of a right turn that said 'Semer 2 1/2'. All was, of course, OK, it was a short cut and a traffic avoidance ploy. Even more ferocious winds just before descending to Hadleigh, mostly crosswinds of the de-stabilising variety which we managed to survive. The Orangery was excellent, and in new hands since we used to use them regularly (we gave up after finding them closed a couple of times). We were called "gentlemen" by an imposing lass in waitress black. "Your scones are home made, aren't they? I'll have a fruit scone with jam, and a pot of tea - and I'd like a jug of HOT water with that please" thus, Peter Heath, Terror of the Tea Room and East Anglia's premier Tannin and Caffeine Critic orders. I can't resist another go at the bacon sandwich (about 50p more than at Dance Eats), came with the ketchup in a miniature version of the Dance Eats china container. White bread, which is only proper for a bacon sandwich. Heaven.

Now Richard (T-T) had guided us to Hadleigh; he pointed out the whereabouts of Partridges - and then delivered the final touch as we sat in the café "and you need to go upstairs for what you want". I think that is the finest touch so far in one of T-T's guided tours. Not just the town, nor merely the building, but the floor. Shaw Fox will be pleased to know that I found what I needed, and would therefore not leave Hadleigh in an un-hinged state.

The return journey was, as we suspected from the outward, subject to the same mixture of wind direction with only a modicum of tailwind and loads of the other varieties. The hardest bit of headwind was quite a surprise; we turned left after Ringshall (having taken the cunning wiggle round Wattisham Airfield) and met the 25mph sou'westerly wind head-on. Unfortunately, there had been a fast descent where I touched 30.6mph (158rpm). This, unsurprisingly, took quite a bit of the zippppp out of my legs for the ensuing short sharp climb - so I was already off the back when we hit the wind. Out of the saddle on the flat, doing 10mph!. Once all together again, we reached Felsham, and I bade my chums farewell - taking the route via Gedding & Drinkstone to reach home by around 1.30 with a mere 50-something miles on the clock.

An email from Tiger gave me news of possibly the most thrilling part of the ride

"After you left us we had what would be a grand finale for your blog of today.

Approaching uphill just before Hessett and Peters favourite 30 mile sign, I was puffing (or panting!) at the rear and thinking 'after the momentous efforts of today's tortuous ride surely nobody would be foolish enough to 'go for it'.

Justin and Ron were in front, Peter behind on the inside and Richard on his right me hanging on at the rear.

I could see Peter 'twitching' probably wishing he was on the outside. I then saw Richard change down into top and looking ahead for the sign. We got to the top and I thought to myself "I don't feel too bad can I surprise them from the rear? So as the road straightened out my brain sent the message to my aching legs - GO. I slapped into my big ring and belted past them all on the outside accompanied by blasphemous curses and unrepeatables. I was away and going like a maniac but I had committed the sin of going just a bit too early and it was a long way to the sign. Sure enough I became the leadout man and both of them tore past in the final yards with Richard taking the honours.

Justin and Ron saw these three mad arses bobbing and weaving flat out to Hessett and remarked afterwards

"amazing - that sprint was between a combined age of 205"!!!!!

A hard ride today but well worth it."

Whew - pretty vivid, Tony.

As a postscript:- I was checking WIGGLE (make Wiggle purchases vis the our Website and the Club gets a rake-off) and saw a saddle I liked the look of, available from 'Charge', makers of the Charge 'Plug' fixie. It's called the 'Spoon'; fair enough. Another is called the ' Knife' which seems a touch unfortunate. And then there is the 'STOOL' . . . . presumably available in brown.

Not many photos - a bit breezy for riding along with a camera in one hand, and we didn't have any punctures! - But at least some of us were happy

SJH