hope you're not in too much pain, Big Al. You were missed.
The ride went well, after a dodgy start. Alan's tyre exploded at Hyde Park Corner, and again a few hundred yards down the road, and some of us doubted that it would get the trip, but he persevered, and it lasted the entire 69 miles. And that, really, was that - other than one puncture, swiftly put right by the TECs, we moved steadily the entire night.
At this time of year darkness is in short supply, but the sunrise over south Essex was considerable compensation, as 'Teef's photo shows. The latter half of the ride lacked the romance of an October ride to Whitstable, but we take a route that isn't without charm in daylight, and took pleasure in one of the most intense springs I can remember. The road from Bapchild to Faversham was real 'Garden of England' stuff, and the dawn chorus, which started before the tea stop in Rochester was as rich as any I've heard this year.
The Wayfinding effort was sublime. I'll not list them for fear of leaving someone out, but it was a delight to have the mix of regulars and newcomers whizzing to the front and taking station at each and every junction.
The real surprise was the way the group kept pretty much together. We did keep the speed of the front down, but not to any great extent, and there were occasions when we stopped to collect having moved at about fourteen miles an hour, and, astonishingly, looked round to find thirty or more people in the lead bunch and the remainder coming in less less than three minutes after. We're not talking racing snakes here, but a real mix of tourists and MTBs.
The others made me drink lots of red wine at the end, and I'm afraid I found in one other a fondness for Eastern European national teams from the 1990s. Apologies if my Stoichkov ramblings were an embarrasment.
The ride went well, after a dodgy start. Alan's tyre exploded at Hyde Park Corner, and again a few hundred yards down the road, and some of us doubted that it would get the trip, but he persevered, and it lasted the entire 69 miles. And that, really, was that - other than one puncture, swiftly put right by the TECs, we moved steadily the entire night.
At this time of year darkness is in short supply, but the sunrise over south Essex was considerable compensation, as 'Teef's photo shows. The latter half of the ride lacked the romance of an October ride to Whitstable, but we take a route that isn't without charm in daylight, and took pleasure in one of the most intense springs I can remember. The road from Bapchild to Faversham was real 'Garden of England' stuff, and the dawn chorus, which started before the tea stop in Rochester was as rich as any I've heard this year.
The Wayfinding effort was sublime. I'll not list them for fear of leaving someone out, but it was a delight to have the mix of regulars and newcomers whizzing to the front and taking station at each and every junction.
The real surprise was the way the group kept pretty much together. We did keep the speed of the front down, but not to any great extent, and there were occasions when we stopped to collect having moved at about fourteen miles an hour, and, astonishingly, looked round to find thirty or more people in the lead bunch and the remainder coming in less less than three minutes after. We're not talking racing snakes here, but a real mix of tourists and MTBs.
The others made me drink lots of red wine at the end, and I'm afraid I found in one other a fondness for Eastern European national teams from the 1990s. Apologies if my Stoichkov ramblings were an embarrasment.
) - then with Clive, about how teaching tried to make you write right handed etc was followed up by a delightful entertainment entitled:
)
Dellzegg would never recover.
I hadn't included the Glen in my countback! Speich did get a mention but the context is a little hazy!
