Aperitif
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- Location
- ...I don't have much idea - really.
And you have come over all Freudian, Greg!
FNRttC Friday Night Ride to the Coast in aid of Martlets Hospice 2nd September 2011
- Thread starter dellzeqq
- Start date
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And you have come over all Freudian, Greg!
Where tobegin? The news that our contact at NCP had left the company and that hisreplacement hadn’t been clued in? Well, Monaza (our new NCP BFF), if you ever google your name, you werestupendous. ‘You want to borrow a car park? This Friday? At midnight! For acycle ride? Sure thing!’
And then,on Friday morning, no mechanics. To be fair, our former mechanic found me thewonderful Tim, but the wonderful Lukacs – that’s a different story. Ever wonderedwhat it takes to walk in to a branch of Evans and say ‘I need a mechanic forthe night and I’m willing to pay for the pleasure’. Desperation, dear peeps,that’s what it takes......
So – it tooka bit to get the ride away at midnight, but, toes having been stepped on, wepressed the button at two minutes to two. And, strangely, all the frustrationsand worries faded away. User10571 played a blinder. It takes determination to holdthe front of a ride in check, but he made it happen. Tim O did the firstroundabout, and took station at the back with Titus, Hugo and I, and wetrundled down to Clapham Common, Titus giving a group of confirmed backmarkersthe sweetest of hurryups. I zipped round the Common with John (the bus) andJohn (the van) in tow, they slid in to a side street to park up and there wasTeam User10571 holding back the tide on Windmill Drive.......and, when I’d spotteda driver that didn’t look like he had too many previous convictions, thetraffic was stopped, the ride moved on to the South Circular in good order anda big tick appeared in the Risk Assessment....
Set besidethe Toilet Key Catastrophe (Ep 1). Team Martin had set off without it – my faultfor spending time getting bikes off vans – and The Great Man had to do a 180 atClapham, head back to the start, there to find us gone, and chase us down to,well, just along from Clapham, to pick the blessed thing up and then make thefastest of tracks for Reigate....
ClaphamSouth was easy – people stopped for red (almost always) and Dom did the voodoo,proving that local knowledge is a good thing – and Tooting Broadway was just assimple – indeed so smooth that I persuaded Mark to make a nine-mile dash towaymark a bend in the road on the North Downs, which he took on with goodgrace. Then Luke at Amen Corner, MartinB (who will, hopefully, tell us about his night later) at Figges Marsh, Eddie,Chris W and Sonia (who rode home after), all waving us through.
The SnatchSquad had to do the deed twice in quick succession – bikes with punctures goingin to the van and cyclists hustled in to the minibus in the manner of RonaldReagan being pushed in to his car. A mention here, for Stuart C, who had afriend on the ride and simply offered to do anything he could to help – he spentthe night helping people in and out and chatting to John the Bus, and, here’sthe thing, smiling all the time.....
Disaster!One of our marshals was missing, presumed asleep on a sofa! Would 300 riderstip over the edge of the known universe and end up in Coulsdon? Not if themagnificent Stuart G could help it. Taking charge of two junctions, haulingpassersby, including Martin - see TKC (Ep 1) above - off their bikes to curethe Portnalls complaint. Tim O was sent forward, in the manner of Natty Bumppo,to relieve the fort – so when he says he was tired he has good reason – 5.7miles in fifteen minutes is good going.
Toilet KeyCatastrophe (Ep 2). Corinne, our Lady of the Loos, was a key short. A few womenbraved the gents and the others queued patiently for the disabled loo, but somehad quite a wait. Stern note to Merton Council on Monday morning.......
Tim (Dr. H)and Lukacs got jiggy with tubes and pumps, and we realised we had a winningteam on board. ‘I’m putting 120 pounds in this tyre’. That’s good, Tim, becauseit had 25 before, which is why we are spending time on it now.....They pulled offa real stunt with electrical tape wrapped round a steel tyre bead that had comethrough the rubber – one to remember.
On then, into the quietness of Mitcham Common. Our backmarkers were now in to their own slowgroove, pedalling from time to time and braking from time to time. Titus offeredpractical advice, along the lines of ‘change gear....please’. We came upon the heroic Stuart G, then Tim andclimbed Portnalls, the Johns grinding up behind us at a slow walking pace. Bythis time the front of the ride had gone down Reigate Hill, over Cockshot Hill,down Lonesome Lane and was closing on Horley. Messages were zipping forwardsand back, calls made to Jasper and Antonia, and, down in the control roomlittle balsa wood bicycles were being moved along a gigantic map of Surrey andSussex. Where’s Susannah York when you need her?
Mike wasrelieved of his pothole, and Mark set free from his bend, and we made our firstpermanent vanning – a duff crank. The backmarkers were now in their element –those little ups and downs above Chipstead affording innumerable brakingopportunities. Titus and I were beginning to feel the heat – as our blocks weresmouldering on red hot rims...........
On then tothe Reigate Rockettes. Gosh – what loveliness there is in the world! And I don’twrite that because they’re here reading it. There they were, all smiles and ‘goodto see you’. They’d spent the previous hour shouting ‘second lane’ at peopleintent on using the M25 sliproad.
We crossedthe motorway and met up with Werner who had volunteered for the same lonely gigat the Mertham turn he’d done so willingly last year, knowing that he wouldhave to ride home to Rotherhithe afterwards. We rolled down the hill, paid ourrespects to Els, Queen of PBP, thanked James who had walked to work, and met upwith Pippsy and the indefatigable Martin, there to learn of Toilet KeyCatastrophe (Ep 3) – Reigate and Banstead Council had given us the wrong key!Mercifully only one person had asked for it, but one can imagine Martin’sfrustration.........
On again,over Cockshot Hill, Jasper having warned us of a Brompton puncture, sorted byTim and Lukasc with our resident Bromptoneers, Olaf (who’d spent what must havebeen an unnerving hour halfway down Reigate Hill) and Titus offering all kindsof good advice, advice that Lukacs accepted without mentioning that hisBrompton was in the van......
There wasvirtue in these punctures. They enabled us to move at more than seven miles anhour on the flat. I fell in with Dave J who’d been on duty at the Lonesome Laneturn and we rolled down that sweetest of roads at touring speed. Gordon andGrahame were picked up in Meath, and Lee on the A23, who’d been keeping me upto date with texts (more control room action with balsa wood). G and G hadwatched one escapee head off toward the 24 hour Tesco at Hookwood and Lee hadseen him return to the route further down.
ThroughHorley (looking straight ahead as we passed the scene of the coffee queue) andon to Team Tim, consisting by now of Tims D and H Anne, Marna and Miranda. I’veno photographs to show you, and my powers of description are not up to the job,but one can speculate about the look on the faces of the uninitiated as theycame upon this bunch of party animals decked out in balloons and colouredlights. Team Tim had illuminated the Badlands with stick lights to great goodeffect – people were charmed by the path of lights – (cue dopey song for nextyear at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VrssTGF21l8 and let’s see if we can get this thing past5000 views and make somebody very happy…)
And then,on Friday morning, no mechanics. To be fair, our former mechanic found me thewonderful Tim, but the wonderful Lukacs – that’s a different story. Ever wonderedwhat it takes to walk in to a branch of Evans and say ‘I need a mechanic forthe night and I’m willing to pay for the pleasure’. Desperation, dear peeps,that’s what it takes......
So – it tooka bit to get the ride away at midnight, but, toes having been stepped on, wepressed the button at two minutes to two. And, strangely, all the frustrationsand worries faded away. User10571 played a blinder. It takes determination to holdthe front of a ride in check, but he made it happen. Tim O did the firstroundabout, and took station at the back with Titus, Hugo and I, and wetrundled down to Clapham Common, Titus giving a group of confirmed backmarkersthe sweetest of hurryups. I zipped round the Common with John (the bus) andJohn (the van) in tow, they slid in to a side street to park up and there wasTeam User10571 holding back the tide on Windmill Drive.......and, when I’d spotteda driver that didn’t look like he had too many previous convictions, thetraffic was stopped, the ride moved on to the South Circular in good order anda big tick appeared in the Risk Assessment....
Set besidethe Toilet Key Catastrophe (Ep 1). Team Martin had set off without it – my faultfor spending time getting bikes off vans – and The Great Man had to do a 180 atClapham, head back to the start, there to find us gone, and chase us down to,well, just along from Clapham, to pick the blessed thing up and then make thefastest of tracks for Reigate....
ClaphamSouth was easy – people stopped for red (almost always) and Dom did the voodoo,proving that local knowledge is a good thing – and Tooting Broadway was just assimple – indeed so smooth that I persuaded Mark to make a nine-mile dash towaymark a bend in the road on the North Downs, which he took on with goodgrace. Then Luke at Amen Corner, MartinB (who will, hopefully, tell us about his night later) at Figges Marsh, Eddie,Chris W and Sonia (who rode home after), all waving us through.
The SnatchSquad had to do the deed twice in quick succession – bikes with punctures goingin to the van and cyclists hustled in to the minibus in the manner of RonaldReagan being pushed in to his car. A mention here, for Stuart C, who had afriend on the ride and simply offered to do anything he could to help – he spentthe night helping people in and out and chatting to John the Bus, and, here’sthe thing, smiling all the time.....
Disaster!One of our marshals was missing, presumed asleep on a sofa! Would 300 riderstip over the edge of the known universe and end up in Coulsdon? Not if themagnificent Stuart G could help it. Taking charge of two junctions, haulingpassersby, including Martin - see TKC (Ep 1) above - off their bikes to curethe Portnalls complaint. Tim O was sent forward, in the manner of Natty Bumppo,to relieve the fort – so when he says he was tired he has good reason – 5.7miles in fifteen minutes is good going.
Toilet KeyCatastrophe (Ep 2). Corinne, our Lady of the Loos, was a key short. A few womenbraved the gents and the others queued patiently for the disabled loo, but somehad quite a wait. Stern note to Merton Council on Monday morning.......
Tim (Dr. H)and Lukacs got jiggy with tubes and pumps, and we realised we had a winningteam on board. ‘I’m putting 120 pounds in this tyre’. That’s good, Tim, becauseit had 25 before, which is why we are spending time on it now.....They pulled offa real stunt with electrical tape wrapped round a steel tyre bead that had comethrough the rubber – one to remember.
On then, into the quietness of Mitcham Common. Our backmarkers were now in to their own slowgroove, pedalling from time to time and braking from time to time. Titus offeredpractical advice, along the lines of ‘change gear....please’. We came upon the heroic Stuart G, then Tim andclimbed Portnalls, the Johns grinding up behind us at a slow walking pace. Bythis time the front of the ride had gone down Reigate Hill, over Cockshot Hill,down Lonesome Lane and was closing on Horley. Messages were zipping forwardsand back, calls made to Jasper and Antonia, and, down in the control roomlittle balsa wood bicycles were being moved along a gigantic map of Surrey andSussex. Where’s Susannah York when you need her?
Mike wasrelieved of his pothole, and Mark set free from his bend, and we made our firstpermanent vanning – a duff crank. The backmarkers were now in their element –those little ups and downs above Chipstead affording innumerable brakingopportunities. Titus and I were beginning to feel the heat – as our blocks weresmouldering on red hot rims...........
On then tothe Reigate Rockettes. Gosh – what loveliness there is in the world! And I don’twrite that because they’re here reading it. There they were, all smiles and ‘goodto see you’. They’d spent the previous hour shouting ‘second lane’ at peopleintent on using the M25 sliproad.
We crossedthe motorway and met up with Werner who had volunteered for the same lonely gigat the Mertham turn he’d done so willingly last year, knowing that he wouldhave to ride home to Rotherhithe afterwards. We rolled down the hill, paid ourrespects to Els, Queen of PBP, thanked James who had walked to work, and met upwith Pippsy and the indefatigable Martin, there to learn of Toilet KeyCatastrophe (Ep 3) – Reigate and Banstead Council had given us the wrong key!Mercifully only one person had asked for it, but one can imagine Martin’sfrustration.........
On again,over Cockshot Hill, Jasper having warned us of a Brompton puncture, sorted byTim and Lukasc with our resident Bromptoneers, Olaf (who’d spent what must havebeen an unnerving hour halfway down Reigate Hill) and Titus offering all kindsof good advice, advice that Lukacs accepted without mentioning that hisBrompton was in the van......
There wasvirtue in these punctures. They enabled us to move at more than seven miles anhour on the flat. I fell in with Dave J who’d been on duty at the Lonesome Laneturn and we rolled down that sweetest of roads at touring speed. Gordon andGrahame were picked up in Meath, and Lee on the A23, who’d been keeping me upto date with texts (more control room action with balsa wood). G and G hadwatched one escapee head off toward the 24 hour Tesco at Hookwood and Lee hadseen him return to the route further down.
ThroughHorley (looking straight ahead as we passed the scene of the coffee queue) andon to Team Tim, consisting by now of Tims D and H Anne, Marna and Miranda. I’veno photographs to show you, and my powers of description are not up to the job,but one can speculate about the look on the faces of the uninitiated as theycame upon this bunch of party animals decked out in balloons and colouredlights. Team Tim had illuminated the Badlands with stick lights to great goodeffect – people were charmed by the path of lights – (cue dopey song for nextyear at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VrssTGF21l8 and let’s see if we can get this thing past5000 views and make somebody very happy…)
I had to nip round theBadlands by road with the Johns behind me, and, having dispatched Stuart A,settled down to wait for the back markers and the happy crew of marshals. Reportswere coming in from the front – the racing snakes had got to the Madeira at aquarter past four, all of five minutes ahead of schedule.
Adam and Andrew B came by withTeam Tim, but Des had disappeared in to thin air. Could he have been set uponby some mutant inbred denizens of the marshes or, worse still, abducted byaliens? I rode down in to the mist covering the Badlands, my thoughts turningto Deliverance or, worse still, Alien Abduction (a cult classic). Would I findDes minus his liver and other edible bits, or would he be bathed in green lightand heavily pregnant?
Deep joy! Des was headingsouth having lost and found some bitbob or other. We ambled up to the school,took on coffee and grub, bade Antonia farewell and got back on the road,chasing down the back markers which took all of about a mile. Titus resumed hisjollying along, and, as dawn broke, we edged over the ten miles an hour mark onthe descent to Lindfield, there to greet Matt who had seen the first riderthrough at three o’clock. Past Dave’s Junction, and then up to Greg’s Place wherethere might or might not have been some imbibing going on. The backmarkers weretold to take their time down the hill, advice they took seriously, and, reversecamber bend sorted, I gave myself over to the delights of Slugwash Lane, alltrees dripping mist and……..another puncture, fixed, yet again by Lukasc andTim.
Through Wivelsfield, settingfree Andy A, Davy and Thom who’d ridden the fifty miles or so down from SemleyPlace at warp speed, and then stood patiently by the side of the road for overthree hours. There was some serious tiredness setting in now, with peoplesimply stopping on little ups – we had a bike to bike which, mercifully, waswife to husband at one point, and, by the time we got in to Ditchling, there tomeet Rob H, they were almost glad of the reason to walk. Top marks then, for agentleman of a certain age and a young woman who decided they just weren’tgoing to be beaten and ground their way to the top in their granny gear.
I decided to give it a go infourth gear and profited from the cool morning, barely passing sweat as I shotpast Davy, whose thighs were clearly having a day off…….in fact I was soall-fired magnificent I turned round and dropped to the back markers and did itagain, to join the happy crew on the hilltop completely cut off from the outsideworld by mist.
And then down, down, down,to Coldean, where Rob F of the CTC and Russ had been standing for over fourhours, telling people to change down for that nasty little right turn, andthen, down again to the sea, the Madeira, and breakfast. The aftermath of theserides follows a pattern – breakfast, sleep and beer, not necessarily in thatorder. It’s a strange kind of half consciousness – I imagined at one point thatI was listening to Davy enlighten Marna on gender politics, but that was surelysome kind of an illusion. All I do know is that Greg had done us proud yetagain, and that people had gone home with smiles on their faces and a goodbreakfast in their bellies.
And that’s about it, orrather TC has just handed me a large gin (mmmmmm - those aromatics) and that’sas much as you’re going to have to endure. Thankyou all for making it such a marvelousnight. As you’d expect I’m getting e-mails from people I don’t know sayingthings that are good to read. By way of a signing off I’ll paste some in below….
Just a note to thankyou. Great event, pleasure to do, everything thought of. Impeccable. And raisedthousands for a superb cause in need of support.
Simon- having done afew of these events I have to say thanks and well done to everyone involved.Well organised and such wonderful volunteers.
Great ride last night. It’s the firsttime me and my mate have done a FNRTTC and both really enjoyed it and thoughtthat it was really well organised and executed. Big thanks to themarshals as well
Thank you for a wellrun bike ride well marshaled. it was my first ever ride and enjoyed it verymuch. looking forward to next year
…. a big thank you to everyone involved in organising theevent. Even though it might not have felt likeit at about 03:30 as my friends and I slogged through Ardingly, it turned out Ihad a great time. In fact all 3 of us did. Dead chuffed with the fact that Imade it up the Beacon in one go (first time of asking too!). Even though itfelt like my heart was trying to burst from my ears I managed to keep going'till I saw those lovely ladies at the top... Were they ever a sight forsore-eyes! If I'd had the energy I'd have hugged each and every one (they hadto make do with a gasped "thank you" instead). I think there's everychance I might give it a go again next year Thanks once again
Adam and Andrew B came by withTeam Tim, but Des had disappeared in to thin air. Could he have been set uponby some mutant inbred denizens of the marshes or, worse still, abducted byaliens? I rode down in to the mist covering the Badlands, my thoughts turningto Deliverance or, worse still, Alien Abduction (a cult classic). Would I findDes minus his liver and other edible bits, or would he be bathed in green lightand heavily pregnant?
Deep joy! Des was headingsouth having lost and found some bitbob or other. We ambled up to the school,took on coffee and grub, bade Antonia farewell and got back on the road,chasing down the back markers which took all of about a mile. Titus resumed hisjollying along, and, as dawn broke, we edged over the ten miles an hour mark onthe descent to Lindfield, there to greet Matt who had seen the first riderthrough at three o’clock. Past Dave’s Junction, and then up to Greg’s Place wherethere might or might not have been some imbibing going on. The backmarkers weretold to take their time down the hill, advice they took seriously, and, reversecamber bend sorted, I gave myself over to the delights of Slugwash Lane, alltrees dripping mist and……..another puncture, fixed, yet again by Lukasc andTim.
Through Wivelsfield, settingfree Andy A, Davy and Thom who’d ridden the fifty miles or so down from SemleyPlace at warp speed, and then stood patiently by the side of the road for overthree hours. There was some serious tiredness setting in now, with peoplesimply stopping on little ups – we had a bike to bike which, mercifully, waswife to husband at one point, and, by the time we got in to Ditchling, there tomeet Rob H, they were almost glad of the reason to walk. Top marks then, for agentleman of a certain age and a young woman who decided they just weren’tgoing to be beaten and ground their way to the top in their granny gear.
I decided to give it a go infourth gear and profited from the cool morning, barely passing sweat as I shotpast Davy, whose thighs were clearly having a day off…….in fact I was soall-fired magnificent I turned round and dropped to the back markers and did itagain, to join the happy crew on the hilltop completely cut off from the outsideworld by mist.
And then down, down, down,to Coldean, where Rob F of the CTC and Russ had been standing for over fourhours, telling people to change down for that nasty little right turn, andthen, down again to the sea, the Madeira, and breakfast. The aftermath of theserides follows a pattern – breakfast, sleep and beer, not necessarily in thatorder. It’s a strange kind of half consciousness – I imagined at one point thatI was listening to Davy enlighten Marna on gender politics, but that was surelysome kind of an illusion. All I do know is that Greg had done us proud yetagain, and that people had gone home with smiles on their faces and a goodbreakfast in their bellies.
And that’s about it, orrather TC has just handed me a large gin (mmmmmm - those aromatics) and that’sas much as you’re going to have to endure. Thankyou all for making it such a marvelousnight. As you’d expect I’m getting e-mails from people I don’t know sayingthings that are good to read. By way of a signing off I’ll paste some in below….
Just a note to thankyou. Great event, pleasure to do, everything thought of. Impeccable. And raisedthousands for a superb cause in need of support.
Simon- having done afew of these events I have to say thanks and well done to everyone involved.Well organised and such wonderful volunteers.
Great ride last night. It’s the firsttime me and my mate have done a FNRTTC and both really enjoyed it and thoughtthat it was really well organised and executed. Big thanks to themarshals as well
Thank you for a wellrun bike ride well marshaled. it was my first ever ride and enjoyed it verymuch. looking forward to next year
…. a big thank you to everyone involved in organising theevent. Even though it might not have felt likeit at about 03:30 as my friends and I slogged through Ardingly, it turned out Ihad a great time. In fact all 3 of us did. Dead chuffed with the fact that Imade it up the Beacon in one go (first time of asking too!). Even though itfelt like my heart was trying to burst from my ears I managed to keep going'till I saw those lovely ladies at the top... Were they ever a sight forsore-eyes! If I'd had the energy I'd have hugged each and every one (they hadto make do with a gasped "thank you" instead). I think there's everychance I might give it a go again next year
Thanks once again
Aperitif
Meme bar
- Location
- ...I don't have much idea - really.
When that started, I did the 'hide behind the pillar' defence, as I thought Davy was in danger of becoming an HM Bateman character... "The man who..."
Are you out there Davy?
U
User10571
Guest
Briefly, my take on the night's events:
For me the hands-on stuff commenced in the early hours of Friday morning rather than Friday night, of which more later.
First and foremost, I'd like to say how much I looked forward to and subsequently enjoyed this ride. It's a pleasure to enable individuals to accomplish stuff which is well out of their comfort zone. Throughout the night I heard many comments echoing those (and more) which Dellzeqq has posted above.
I did not hand-pick the team of nine whose job it was to marshal the seven or so miles between HPC and Mitcham Common.
But I couldn't have asked for a better crew, some of whom were not even going to be rewarded with the pleasure of doing a FNRttC, electing (for their own, doubtless good,reasons) to retire to their beds once they'd had the "All up!" and their marshaling duties for the night were over.
So, a big thanks from me to Titus, Tim, Dominick, Mark, Luke, Eddy, Sonia, Chris and Martin who, after the briefest of briefings at Semley Place, delivered pretty much exactly as it says on the tin. Thanks guys, for making my task considerably easier.
Back to the early hours of Friday morning (Titus, now is the time for you to look away from your computer screen).....
Hands up (no cheating now) those of you who spotted the embellished road sign immediately prior to Mitcham Common? Fashioned from proper reflective materials, compliant with BS36324 an' everyfink.
Whilst most of you slept, I may or may not have been shinning up a lamp post.
I invite any of you to try that whilst wearing road shoes with Look cleats.
For me the hands-on stuff commenced in the early hours of Friday morning rather than Friday night, of which more later.
First and foremost, I'd like to say how much I looked forward to and subsequently enjoyed this ride. It's a pleasure to enable individuals to accomplish stuff which is well out of their comfort zone. Throughout the night I heard many comments echoing those (and more) which Dellzeqq has posted above.
I did not hand-pick the team of nine whose job it was to marshal the seven or so miles between HPC and Mitcham Common.
But I couldn't have asked for a better crew, some of whom were not even going to be rewarded with the pleasure of doing a FNRttC, electing (for their own, doubtless good,reasons) to retire to their beds once they'd had the "All up!" and their marshaling duties for the night were over.
So, a big thanks from me to Titus, Tim, Dominick, Mark, Luke, Eddy, Sonia, Chris and Martin who, after the briefest of briefings at Semley Place, delivered pretty much exactly as it says on the tin. Thanks guys, for making my task considerably easier.
Back to the early hours of Friday morning (Titus, now is the time for you to look away from your computer screen).....
Hands up (no cheating now) those of you who spotted the embellished road sign immediately prior to Mitcham Common? Fashioned from proper reflective materials, compliant with BS36324 an' everyfink.
Whilst most of you slept, I may or may not have been shinning up a lamp post.
I invite any of you to try that whilst wearing road shoes with Look cleats.
Aperitif
Meme bar
- Location
- ...I don't have much idea - really.
Didn't see it, so 0/10 for me.
You're a star, User10571.
You're a star, User10571.
srw
It's a bit more complicated than that...
You forgot to log out, didn't you?
Old Raj (touch of saffron) is rather good, especially in a Martini.
mmmmartin
Random geezer
A simply awesome night, with lots of out-of-the-ordinary incidents.
The usual friendly and gentle potter through the usual streets of London at the start of the ride was interrupted by a usual red at a traffic light so we stopped as usual. Over on the right of the crosswords was a pub with a police car with flashing blue light parked, and bit more people milling about outside and shouting than is usual. As we got a green light and pottered over the junction a few of the riders behind me started yelling and shot off across the road to the ruckus, which seemed to involve a lot of shouting and a lot of people being pushed about with some not being vertical. There were, I think, four of them. They dumped their bikes in the road and ran into the crowd and there was a lot of shouting and pushing.
At that point it seemed to me a cyclist had been attacked by a drunk so I parked the bike and ran across the road to render what assistance I could. To be honest, I'd have been pretty useless in a ruck. I'm getting on for 58, I've only stabbed someone once and that was at school so doesn't count, and the last time I was involved in a fight was 30 years ago.
A slightly-built copper, despite, it seems, the intervention of numerous lowlife pals, had nicked and was in the process of cuffing a large, vociferous and struggling gentleman, and bent him over a telephone exchange box. The cuffing operation was ably assisted by a cyclist who was obviously on first name terms with the copper.
It then became obvious to me that our cyclists were coppers and thus on the side of the angels, and that far from being the innocent who was just passing the pub, the large nicked gent was in fact a scumbag who had kicked someone in the head. Hence the group standing around someone on the ground about 10 yards away. The copper had in fact witnessed with his own eyes this attack by scumbag and informed scumbag of same, after which he shut up.
However, an observer may have believed a young lady, who was standing about a foot away from the copper screaming into his ear that nicked scumbag had, in fact, not done nuffink. I do not wish to be ungallant here, but I think it unlikely that aforesaid young lady went to Cheltenham Ladies College. At that point I thought I'd have to intervene if she started to attack the copper, but was very definitely on the side of staying out of it until she did. To be honest, I don't understand why he didn't deck the screaming bitch, but then I'm not a highly trained professional.
I was watching a "cyclist" help the copper cuff scumbag when as amid the struggles of the cuffing operation another cyclist arrived next to me and said: "Can you hold my bike?" I said: "Don't interfere, he's a copper." To which he replied: "I know, so am I."
So he disappeared and left me holding his bike and wondering if if it was going to be damaged in what was obviously turning into a tasty ruckus, and getting more worried about the potential disappearance of my bike from the other side of the road.
To sum up: at this point there were a few off-duty coppers wearing cycling gear, thinking they were on for a night ride to Brighton and Nice Healthy Fat Boy Breakfast, a few beers and a train ride home, holding back what looked like the entire contents of the pub, including some mates of scumbag, who was obviously upset that he had met The Met in such circumstances. That sort of thing takes a lot of nerve. Chapeau.
Having met The Met, it was now obvious that we were going to meet a lot more of them, as we could hear loads of sirens coming towards us. Suddenly, loads of cars appeared and there were coppers everywhere. The owner of the bike reappeared, other cyclists - some who might have trouble getting into a size XXL Fridays Jersey and looked like being a tad useful in a punch-up - emerged from the crowd and we went on our way.
At this point I was at the back of the peloton and needed to get a bloody move on to get to my junction before Mitcham Common.
Alas the left side of the road was full of parked cars and cyclists and the right side of the road seemed to be full of police cars with flashing blue lights coming the other way.
After some confusion on my part as to which junction was actually mine, interrupted by Simon and the back of the ride arriving as I assisted with two riders who had a flat battery and no front light
I obviously lost
- the reflective bra contest - deckertim won hands down with flashing red lights
- the blingy bike contest - my pathetic attempt was outclassed by fairy lights
After that it was the routine FNRTTC story of pitch dark, thick mist, steep hills, punctures, fast dangerous descents on bad surfaces in total darkness, interrupted by good conversations with brave souls well out of their comfort zone and struggling with the immensity of their challenge.
This for me was the real enjoyment of the night, their commitment to do the ride showed the side of humanity very different from scumbag the headkicker and his idiot drunken caterwauling lying bitch of a girlfriend.
On some dark hill I stopped to help with a rear-wheel Brompton - the nightmare of all punctures - and a party of three drunks appeared below us, shouting all manner of things. There three of us, and three of them. a cyclist appeared, whizzing down the hill, I waved and he stopped. Now we were four and they were three. Then the van and the bus appeared. The aggressive and loud drunks approached and turned into the sort of drunken harmless hooligan I once was. We chatted amiably and they were in awe of our achievement. I thanked them for their support and we all shook hands, and parted the best of friends.
On arrival at the school we were greeted with the sight to melt the heart of any night cyclist - tables groaning under the weight of fantastic sandwiches and homemade cake
Those volunteers for Martletts really are fabulous, they coulld not do enough for us, they were marvellous. At that time of the night my brain was a bit shot and they were sooooo helpful and nice.
While the respectable sponsored riders took one tea and a few sandwiches and retired to a bench to sit down, the marshalls, in the finest and honourable traditions of Fridays, simply stood next to the tables and crammed as many sandwiches and cakes down as possible, with the explicit intention of eating them all before Simon arrived. Alas in this we were defeated by the inexhaustible supplies. I was later told they had thought they'd be left with lots of cake. Not a bit was left.......
After grub it was straightforward ride to Ditchling, punctuated by me realising that one rider couldn't change gear. We fixed that. she'd ridden all the way from London to Ditchling on one - quite - high gear. That shows determination.
A highlight of the night for me was tripping the 30mph speed camera at 38 mph coming down to Brighton. It took effort after being up all night, but I managed it
A great breakfast, some lingering in lycra, and two of us set off for home, about 50k I think. We stopped a coffee at Fletchling and I discovered a back puncture which I fixed in a grassy bank under the shade of a tree.
While I was doing this a chap came up and started to talk. Briefly,this poor soul was 70, and had lost his driving licence after he had a stroke. Fletchling is a pretty little village but to be trapped there after a stroke and with no car emphasises how lucky I am.
We rode home through glorious countryside bathed in sunshine. It was the perfect end to a glorious experience, during which, in one shape or another, I seemed to have met the whole of humanity.
Attachments
Dammit, I only managed 34mph, which was still faster than last time on Red, but on both occasions car drivers have gotten in the way....A highlight of the night for me was tripping the 30mph speed camera at 38 mph coming down to Brighton. It took effort after being up all night, but I managed it...
I reckon it probably triggers at 10%+3mph which used to be a common criterion (I don't know if it still is), but seems likely if it didn't trigger at 34mph, but did at 38mph.
A good write-up Martin, and which summarised the Tooting Bec incident well, after I'd more or less put the story together from various other partial recitals.
Aperitif
Meme bar
- Location
- ...I don't have much idea - really.
^Ignoring all that smug crap...
Nice report Martin
Just for fun, Andy Allsopp and I decided to 'Do the Banzai' and attack - he was in front and my Garmin stat showed 39mph + - just as a citizen of Brighton turned into our path in his blue Ford and immediately slammed on his brakes - to crawl through the camera's field of view!
The bounder.
Who looked after the giraffe that jumped out and hit me by the way - getting entangled in my cables? It was last seen in the capable hands of Susie...
Nice report Martin
Just for fun, Andy Allsopp and I decided to 'Do the Banzai' and attack - he was in front and my Garmin stat showed 39mph + - just as a citizen of Brighton turned into our path in his blue Ford and immediately slammed on his brakes - to crawl through the camera's field of view!
The bounder.
Who looked after the giraffe that jumped out and hit me by the way - getting entangled in my cables? It was last seen in the capable hands of Susie...
U
User10571
Guest
^+1
And a perfectly reasonable explanation for your non-presence, Martin (causing my eyebrow to rise but remain unflustered - nothing worse than a flustered eyebrow after dark) at your planned location when I arrived there with the head of the ride.
Leastways I now know you were there shortly thereafter, on account of you being engaged in Good Work Elsewhere.
Well done! That man.
We clearly need to amend the "30 mph" speed limit sign with a "...but this doesn't apply to cyclists, so get out of our way" sign, following User10571's example.
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