Brighton with the old cars - Sunday November 4 - honk honk wizz bang wheeze!

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OP
OP
ianrauk

ianrauk

Tattooed Beat Messiah
Location
Rides Ti2
I thought you were on my side? :ohmy: Turncoat!


When it comes to cake..... I go all a squiggle...
 

Gordon P

There's no Calvados? I'll have a beer or a whisky
Location
London E3
Gordon, sorry I got your son's name wrong :ohmy:.
No worries: there were several distractions...
Lessons for next year: start later, ride slower (although the inclement conditions made me think let's get this over with). Ben got to Brighton at about 11.45, me 30 ins later
 
i would have thought a vm was watertight; weatherproof etc
check this video out
http://www.recumbent-gallery.eu/another-amphibian-velomobile/
 

topcat1

vintage Mercian 2012
Location
here

thom

____
Location
The Borough
I was following the thread, considering trying to join until I saw the weather forecast. Those who left home on Sunday morning are brave souls.

Instead, I've availed myself of the greater photos posted above. Also, the Guardian have a photo gallery here

: http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/gallery/2012/nov/04/london-brighton-classic-rally-pictures

London-to-Brighton-rally-003.jpg
 

chippycyclist

New Member
And now the longer version.

Got to The Scottish Restaurant at about 0815 to find TopCat1 in the rain. Soon joined by Bob and his oppo, one of whom was on a yellow recumbent, the other from Oxfordshire. Our numbers increased with the arrival of that nice Mr Crispin and The Continuing Legend of Bermondey Bill with their parties. The lack of the Bromley Contingent was noted. Clarion and the lovely Butterfly arrived. To while away the time, Bill decided to have a puncture, so I phoned Ardian to come and spectate. He duly arrived on one of the Verdigris bikes, sporting a lovely rear mudguard molished from plastic milk cartons and cable ties. Dellz would have been green with envy. Topcat then shot off to the station to round up the stragglers. We took advantage of his absence by heading off into the drizzle. After a good few hundred metres, Bill discovered another puncture. I stopped to offer helpful advice and lend my pump while the rest of the group shot off unaware. While we were wrestling with it, TopCat1 hove into view, having deposited the station stragglers at the now deserted Scottish Restaurant, where one of them decided to have a puncture. With Bill's puncture mended (FSVO mended) we set off again, only for it to go flat after 200m. He bad me farewell and I shot off into the rain to try and catch the group.

Serious rain just as I rounded what I know as the VW building, so I sheltered for all of 30s in the carpark. Onwards and southwards, passing a baling Bob and oppo, my day dreaming rudely interrupted by Adrian hollering at me from the shelter of a handy railway bridge. He was waiting for Paulina, who had become separated from the Crispin locomotive and was refuelling on coffee. Soon we were three, weaving through the Coulsdon traffic. On the run up to Hooley, that nice Mr Crispin was waiting by a transport cafe and took Paulina under his wing again. Adrian and I headed off, with Adrian saving a FOREIGN driver from ABROAD from DEATH or at least EMBARRASMENT by warning him not to take his hundred year old jalopy down the M23.

Into Redhill, through the traditional puddle at the north end of the town, then out the other end where we spied Clarion and the lovely Butterfly, drinking tea. We regrouped and headed off, with Adrian peeling off for The Gatwick Surprise. Shortly after I too peeled off, having woken Mrs. Hall by telephone. At home I swapped Project RatBike for the Pino and collected Mrs. Hall. We sped to the High Street to meet the hordes of cyclists to find it devoid of anyone we knew. We minced around for a bit, then decided they must have gone without us, so departed. The weather had cheered up and all was good. Lots of waves and applause from the road side audience. Must be my dashing good looks. Lots of broken old cars, lots of oil on the road. Chatted to a driver of a 1904 something or other while grabbing a fuel (him petrol, me chocolate) in Burgess Hill. We agreed it had been a wet day.

Took to main road into Brighton with no bother. Gave it plenty off beans and commanded our lane with aplomb. Nearly came unstuck at the horrible mish mash of bus, cycle and taxi lanes round York Place. Inattention on my part almost had us as a bonnet ornament on a BMW.

Into Madeira Drive, fish and chips at the cafe, then up to the station where we met Ess and TopCat1, lounging wetly on the train. A Grand Day Out.
 
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