Your ride today.... (part 1)
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Monsieur Remings
Guru
- Location
- Yatton UK
60 miles today, set out from Clevedon, through Yatton and Congresbury onto the A38, turned off at Cheddar and onto Wells where I double backed onto the Burnham road and back onto A38 to complete the loop back home. Gorgeous weather and the Mendips were as fine as ever.
While our confreres were off to find fish and chip (pass the salt!) in Maldon, I headed south to lead the Cheam and Morden around Surrey, possibly for the last time. I’d chosen the route, to be shortish and a little bumpy, with a sting in the tail, and chosen three very different stopping points. I hoped to make a neat kind of summary of Surrey that never lost sight of its principal charms - its trees, houses, sky, hills and small streams.
I might have ridden to North Cheam a hundred times, but enjoyed it each and every time. One can’t make great claims for Colliers Wood or Morden, but plugging in to the ups and downs of the A24 tells you where you are. There’s the aromatic descent to Tooting Broadway, the little rise and fall to South Wimbledon and the three leg-warming ups, and two downs, from Morden to North Cheam. Sometimes I go from Bec to Broadway like a young Tom Cruise – overtaking cars, and swooping to the right of islands, challenging northbound cars to a head-on – but with a northeasterly behind me and an open road I whooshed all the way to North Cheam letting Floreana do what Colnagos do best - skate in front of a tailwind with barely a tremor rising from the road. I passed only one roadie, heading, I think, for the coast, but rendered almost stationary by superior frame and wheel-making.
The C+M chose not to ride in to the wind to North Cheam, so only three of the more northerly types set off from base to Banstead, Chipstead, Reigate Hill, Lonesome Lane and Horley. We travelled slowly, and the cold started to bite. I’d three layers rather than the usual two on top, leg warmers, winter socks and neoprene overshoes, but my chest burnt with cold on the descent to Chipstead Valley Road. How Lane, with 200 feet of climb, came as a relief, and we skipped along the FNRttC route, admiring the splendid view over the valley to our right – ‘Englandland’ as Susie calls it - and then dropped down Reigate Hill, rolled over Cockshot Hill and then turned left on to the road that tells you that, yes, God is a Cyclist, Lonesome Lane.
Those of you who’ve ridden down Lonesome Lane in the dark should get hold of this idea – it’s better yet by day. Seeing that snaking tarmac, narrowing for the little bridges, curving smoothly to the right and left just quickly enough to require judicious use of the brakes, seeing it dip and rise back up, makes it even more of a delight. By day you can take advantage of the smooth top and lean in to the hedgerow on the left, your shoulder following the line left by the flail cutter to the centimetre, and, at the same time, take in small fields, farm gates and birdsong, all the while shifting from gear to gear without thought or care.
Horley’s greatest virtue is the road in, but coffee at Planet Sweet’s sister cafe (they take it in turns to open on Sundays) was good, and five more C+Mers had braved the cold to meet us there. Tollers’ dad provided the wit, as ever, and the rest of us charted the decline of civilisation since Jimmy Page first played with Neil Christian and the Crusaders in Ewell; in consequence it took some effort for seven of us to prise ourselves from the banquettes and out in to the road. Terry was slow to get ready, so I shouted ‘while we’re still young, Terry’ which was pretty good given that we seven had close to 450 years between us.
Out through Charlwood, and up Stan Hill, and in to sunshine. Oaks draped in mistletoe, frozen runnels of water at the verge, steaming breath, all sharp light and shade in the manner of John William Inchbold.
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b0/AStudyinMarchInchbold.jpg
Then down to Capel, across the A24 and on to Weare Street...
I took Susie to Weare Street for her first ride on her first road bike. The road drops from Ockley Station, losing about 150 feet in three miles. It’s narrow, twisty and almost unused by cars. I’ve loved Weare Street since my first dash down it on the Epsom Derby Canter, and, like Lonesome Lane, it’s as much fun taken slowly as it is ridden at a clip. There’s a still pond, then a small ravine on the left hand side with a brook, almost dry at the moment, that becomes the North River, running in to the Arun at Slinfold. All this is the best of Englandland, and, deserves nothing less than a good pub at the end of it, which is handy because the Scarlett Arms at Walliswood is a good pub, with good beer and a nice line in light lunches. Coming in from the cold, and washing down smoked salmon, egg and bubble and squeak with a glass of Fursty Ferret – now that’s what a CTC ride is made of.
I decided that the northfacing slopes of Coldharbour carried too great a risk of ice, and that we’d go down the A24 to Dorking. This wasn’t wildly popular, but, after a bit of tour through dank lanes north of Walliswood, we pedalled northwards by the verge of the dual carriageway, inured to the cars rushing by, until we reached the outskirts of Dorking, where we turned north, crossed the town, and made our way to Denbies Vineyard for tea and cake. If I’m honest, the cake wasn’t good.
After which we made our own way home. The northeasterly had gone away, so I made the 19 miles or so back to Streatham in a bit over an hour, slowing only where the traffic in Tooting forced me to take in the fragrance that is the Broadway making ready for curry nights out. And then home. The love of my life opened the door, popped a bottle of fizz, and I fell in to an evening on the sofa.
She apologised for not coming out with us, but I was glad she’d stayed at home, and this is why....
At the top end of Weare Street we came to a small traffic jam, some police cars, an ambulance, and, then a man lying in the road. We looked, as would you, for a bike, or pieces of bike, but saw none. He wasn’t dressed to ride – his trousers, which had been ripped up the seam, were checked tweed. I’m no expert, but I could see his body convulsed from head to toe by a rapid twitching – a kind of grand mal shivering – and I think that he was on his way out of this world. A walker, on the inside of a high-banked bend, hit by a passing car, yet another victim of the machine. On such a day et in Arcadia ego.
I might have ridden to North Cheam a hundred times, but enjoyed it each and every time. One can’t make great claims for Colliers Wood or Morden, but plugging in to the ups and downs of the A24 tells you where you are. There’s the aromatic descent to Tooting Broadway, the little rise and fall to South Wimbledon and the three leg-warming ups, and two downs, from Morden to North Cheam. Sometimes I go from Bec to Broadway like a young Tom Cruise – overtaking cars, and swooping to the right of islands, challenging northbound cars to a head-on – but with a northeasterly behind me and an open road I whooshed all the way to North Cheam letting Floreana do what Colnagos do best - skate in front of a tailwind with barely a tremor rising from the road. I passed only one roadie, heading, I think, for the coast, but rendered almost stationary by superior frame and wheel-making.
The C+M chose not to ride in to the wind to North Cheam, so only three of the more northerly types set off from base to Banstead, Chipstead, Reigate Hill, Lonesome Lane and Horley. We travelled slowly, and the cold started to bite. I’d three layers rather than the usual two on top, leg warmers, winter socks and neoprene overshoes, but my chest burnt with cold on the descent to Chipstead Valley Road. How Lane, with 200 feet of climb, came as a relief, and we skipped along the FNRttC route, admiring the splendid view over the valley to our right – ‘Englandland’ as Susie calls it - and then dropped down Reigate Hill, rolled over Cockshot Hill and then turned left on to the road that tells you that, yes, God is a Cyclist, Lonesome Lane.
Those of you who’ve ridden down Lonesome Lane in the dark should get hold of this idea – it’s better yet by day. Seeing that snaking tarmac, narrowing for the little bridges, curving smoothly to the right and left just quickly enough to require judicious use of the brakes, seeing it dip and rise back up, makes it even more of a delight. By day you can take advantage of the smooth top and lean in to the hedgerow on the left, your shoulder following the line left by the flail cutter to the centimetre, and, at the same time, take in small fields, farm gates and birdsong, all the while shifting from gear to gear without thought or care.
Horley’s greatest virtue is the road in, but coffee at Planet Sweet’s sister cafe (they take it in turns to open on Sundays) was good, and five more C+Mers had braved the cold to meet us there. Tollers’ dad provided the wit, as ever, and the rest of us charted the decline of civilisation since Jimmy Page first played with Neil Christian and the Crusaders in Ewell; in consequence it took some effort for seven of us to prise ourselves from the banquettes and out in to the road. Terry was slow to get ready, so I shouted ‘while we’re still young, Terry’ which was pretty good given that we seven had close to 450 years between us.
Out through Charlwood, and up Stan Hill, and in to sunshine. Oaks draped in mistletoe, frozen runnels of water at the verge, steaming breath, all sharp light and shade in the manner of John William Inchbold.
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b0/AStudyinMarchInchbold.jpg
Then down to Capel, across the A24 and on to Weare Street...
I took Susie to Weare Street for her first ride on her first road bike. The road drops from Ockley Station, losing about 150 feet in three miles. It’s narrow, twisty and almost unused by cars. I’ve loved Weare Street since my first dash down it on the Epsom Derby Canter, and, like Lonesome Lane, it’s as much fun taken slowly as it is ridden at a clip. There’s a still pond, then a small ravine on the left hand side with a brook, almost dry at the moment, that becomes the North River, running in to the Arun at Slinfold. All this is the best of Englandland, and, deserves nothing less than a good pub at the end of it, which is handy because the Scarlett Arms at Walliswood is a good pub, with good beer and a nice line in light lunches. Coming in from the cold, and washing down smoked salmon, egg and bubble and squeak with a glass of Fursty Ferret – now that’s what a CTC ride is made of.
I decided that the northfacing slopes of Coldharbour carried too great a risk of ice, and that we’d go down the A24 to Dorking. This wasn’t wildly popular, but, after a bit of tour through dank lanes north of Walliswood, we pedalled northwards by the verge of the dual carriageway, inured to the cars rushing by, until we reached the outskirts of Dorking, where we turned north, crossed the town, and made our way to Denbies Vineyard for tea and cake. If I’m honest, the cake wasn’t good.
After which we made our own way home. The northeasterly had gone away, so I made the 19 miles or so back to Streatham in a bit over an hour, slowing only where the traffic in Tooting forced me to take in the fragrance that is the Broadway making ready for curry nights out. And then home. The love of my life opened the door, popped a bottle of fizz, and I fell in to an evening on the sofa.
She apologised for not coming out with us, but I was glad she’d stayed at home, and this is why....
At the top end of Weare Street we came to a small traffic jam, some police cars, an ambulance, and, then a man lying in the road. We looked, as would you, for a bike, or pieces of bike, but saw none. He wasn’t dressed to ride – his trousers, which had been ripped up the seam, were checked tweed. I’m no expert, but I could see his body convulsed from head to toe by a rapid twitching – a kind of grand mal shivering – and I think that he was on his way out of this world. A walker, on the inside of a high-banked bend, hit by a passing car, yet another victim of the machine. On such a day et in Arcadia ego.
OP
OP
gbb
Squire
- Location
- Peterborough
A quick 19 miles...on a day off where i'd have usually aimed for 50 or more.
Commute last night, i felt out of sorts...no oomph. You know those times when you just dont feel 100%, not ill, but not right either. So based on that, rather than push too far or too hard, just a moderately paced pootle round my usual short loop.
Fieldfare...aren't they big ? I saw two on a hedgetop about 15 ft away. Good long look, about the size (and not unlike) Mistle Thrush.
One red Kite...one dead badger, nothing else really. Moderately blowy, not too cold, a little overcast. Had better days, definately had worse.
Commute last night, i felt out of sorts...no oomph. You know those times when you just dont feel 100%, not ill, but not right either. So based on that, rather than push too far or too hard, just a moderately paced pootle round my usual short loop.
Fieldfare...aren't they big ? I saw two on a hedgetop about 15 ft away. Good long look, about the size (and not unlike) Mistle Thrush.
One red Kite...one dead badger, nothing else really. Moderately blowy, not too cold, a little overcast. Had better days, definately had worse.
biggs682
Itching to get back on my bike's
- Location
- Northamptonshire
another daily commute so only normal 6 miles but not bad riding and testing the latest project a nice R e w Reynolds single speeder on a fr ring of 48 and back gear of 13 whatever that makes apart from hardwork , but fun
JohnnyBoy
New Member
- Location
- Dubai, UAE
Managed to get and get some miles in after a week of non stop sandstorms put paid to any cycling. Luckily the wind dropped and the rain came in so I took my chances and got 34KM while my son had Rugby training. The Sevens is a great place for some quiet training as there an internal road that has a 6.9KM circuit and no 4x4s haring round at 160KMPH so very safe. Biggest problem is really the wind can kick up in a split second so you've got to keep your eye's peeled for bad weather coming in as getting caught in a sandstorm is hideous and bloody scary at best as you never know if there's a loose hoarding flying about.
The rain is bliss as we hardly ever get any so most cyclists here jump at the chance to get a soaking so last night was no exception. Hosing down the bike is also a pastime that we only get two or three times a year, normally it's dusting off the sand and making sure the cogs are sand free. This is what the ride normally looks like at 6pm today was full of rain clouds:
The rain is bliss as we hardly ever get any so most cyclists here jump at the chance to get a soaking so last night was no exception. Hosing down the bike is also a pastime that we only get two or three times a year, normally it's dusting off the sand and making sure the cogs are sand free. This is what the ride normally looks like at 6pm today was full of rain clouds:
krushavik
New Member
- Location
- Warrington Cheshire.
Did 34 miles today on a circuit which is all road but it has a few drags which makes you puff and a few open spaces where the wind always seems to be in your face. Good little training run, enjoyed it.
durfitymoo
New Member
Just got back from a lovely 30 mile ride in Richmond park although at times a bit windy! 
ThePainInSpain
Active Member
- Location
- Malaga, Spain
OP
OP
gbb
Squire
- Location
- Peterborough
16 miles commuting today, the joys of a healthy tailwind, steaming along with little effort, then what should be the nightmare of the same wind in your face...wasn't. It was strong, but i seemed to find a pace i could work at and just plodded at a more than reasonably pace.
Soon be time for no lights needed. I only turned mine on in the last 15 minutes of the ride tonight.
Soon be time for no lights needed. I only turned mine on in the last 15 minutes of the ride tonight.
OP
OP
gbb
Squire
- Location
- Peterborough
47 hard miles, not fast, just hard work for little speed today 
Chose a route that'd give me side/tailwind home. Fat chance. I must have had 3 or 4 miles of tailwind, the rest was a mix of side and headwinds and too many oncoming cars giving me an extra blast of headwind. Spent a lot of the return leg just conserving energy. Nowt much in the legs today.
Snowdrops are out, couple of days and the verges will be white with them.
11 Red Kite, 5 of them over one field at various heights, all circling and whirring round, wings outstretched . One earlier was about 40 yards away sitting on top of a hedge. As always, fumble to get the camera out...and the bugger flies off. He looked impressively large with the sun lighting his chest and side up.
Is spring coming, they seemed very vocal, first time i've heard them calling, a high pitched 'peeoo'. maybe they're getting ready for mating.
Heard a Green Woodpecker, first one this year.
Unfortunate low speed collision between a car and a cement mixer lorry at Kings Cliffe...the cars front bumper was splashed all over the road.
Hard ride today, not that much pleasure in it, but useful mileage to get in on a day off. Set out for 60 or more, but i knew 20 miles in it wasn't going to be.
Chose a route that'd give me side/tailwind home. Fat chance. I must have had 3 or 4 miles of tailwind, the rest was a mix of side and headwinds and too many oncoming cars giving me an extra blast of headwind. Spent a lot of the return leg just conserving energy. Nowt much in the legs today.
Snowdrops are out, couple of days and the verges will be white with them.
11 Red Kite, 5 of them over one field at various heights, all circling and whirring round, wings outstretched . One earlier was about 40 yards away sitting on top of a hedge. As always, fumble to get the camera out...and the bugger flies off. He looked impressively large with the sun lighting his chest and side up.
Is spring coming, they seemed very vocal, first time i've heard them calling, a high pitched 'peeoo'. maybe they're getting ready for mating.
Heard a Green Woodpecker, first one this year.
Unfortunate low speed collision between a car and a cement mixer lorry at Kings Cliffe...the cars front bumper was splashed all over the road.
Hard ride today, not that much pleasure in it, but useful mileage to get in on a day off. Set out for 60 or more, but i knew 20 miles in it wasn't going to be.
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