MacB
Lover of things that come in 3's
- Location
- Farnborough, Hampshire
Davywalnuts said:I think there's alot more "p" words available that are also very apt!!
Davy, Davy, Davy, if you only knew, or could remember
FNRttC 4th September to Whitstable 2009
- Thread starter dellzeqq
- Start date
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Davy, Davy, Davy, if you only knew, or could remember
Aperitif
Meme bar
- Location
- ...I don't have much idea - really.
Quite a few beginning with 'Des' too!
So - here's what I jotted down on Saturday, minus a few (but not all) of the boring bits............
My fearful apprehension was even greater than usual before the start. A rash of cancellations, the slight doubt in Metcheck, the number of new riders and an irrational concern about my own bike having split a newish tyre on a recce ride a few days before, rendered the 'safety talk' even more excruciating than usual. That apprehension, I'm afraid, inspired a degree of over-control to the first part of the proceedings, which, I hope, those who were organised, will forgive. My thanks, in any case, to User10571, who fielded inquiries for 'status reports', and to Matt who was at the right place at the right time to direct traffic over the head of Blackfriars Bridge following our ejection from the Embankment by highways works. And apologies to Jason, who took upon himself to waymark at the top of London Bridge and got left behind for his pains. As you'd expect of somebody working for the finest transport organisation in the world, he made his way back and, nothing daunted, waymarked half a dozen times later in the night.
Who now remembers the security guard outside the Mayor’s conveniences? And what conveniences they are! Those who put a tyre in the rill had clearly not reckoned on Ken’s affection for historical rectitude in plumbing. We skipped the GLA building and headed down Tooley Street, Adrian twisting the knife a little more by remarking on the absence of fishtails, and then, slowly, but surely, and almost together, took the bus lane to Greenwich. There a regroup, and on to Woolwich (past a ghost bike at the A102 flyover) and another regroup, before slipping off the main roads, crying ‘bollards’ not once but twice. Past Thamesmead and on to Erith, we kept the speed down, and there was only a five minute wait for the TECs before we slid on to the A206, a road you wouldn’t necessarily want to run a group ride on during the day. There was the occasional flurry of speed as some of the younger ones (I name no names) found the slow pace a little too much to bear and shot off toward the QE2 bridge. We almost lost Davy just after the bridge, but, happily, he rejoined us after a short diversion round a traffic island.
By now the ride had a serious air of perfection about it. We’d approach a junction. Somebody would appear beside me and say ‘shall I mark this one?’ which they did. After a while there would be a polite queue for waymarking duties, and I’d be stuck for choice, although assigning two people to the same roundabout soaked up a little of the surplus good will. Being at the front insulates you from the drama at the back, but, from what I gathered, there was precious little. The TECs were the juice. Peter took his time on the uphills from Greenhithe to Northfleet, and the TECs took their time with him, and I know they were happy to do so - Alan L replaced Paddington after a while, and Tim H, Aperitif, User10571 and Alan B stuck with the back pretty much for the entire ride.
There was some serious architectural appreciation in Gravesend, which was very gratifying. Next time I’ll bring my Pevsner….(registrations for Southend go into reverse)
And then, leaving Chalk, the magic moment. We went over a slight rise, to see the marshes laid out to our left, and the Thames’ oily snake reflecting the lights of Essex. A little ahead and to our right a line of poplars made a stark skyline even starker still. A full, hard moon lit up the land and the sky.
This section of the ride is dreamy. Small ups and downs, through open land, toward the yellow glow of the Medway towns just over the horizon. Strood arrives all of a sudden – within a few minutes, we’d twisted through a bit of a suburb and come across a magnificent view over the river, before swooping down, cutting through a little path over what was once a canal lock, before cycling along the river’s side, checking out, of all things, a Russian submarine.
Arthur’s pictures of Andy’s Café tell the story – it was like a Hopper in reverse, light and conversation bursting out in to the street. Sandwiches, identified by numbers, came and were eaten, swilled down by tea. It took a while to extract the last rider from the toilet, but, when the man himself appeared, gleaming with satisfaction, we trundled off through Chatham, and out, once again, on to the flat.
The ride still held together remarkably well. Regrouping at Upnor, formulating roof theories, was more fun than waiting. When Els’s tyre went pop User10571 sent the larger portion of the ride on and we trundled through Sittingbourne at a seriously slow pace, with Adrian doing the TEC bit for us while I chatted to Barry Jordan in a far more carefree manner than ever we did when we were on the CTC Council together. And then, Hengist’s Thong. And what a thong it was! 80 acres. We admired the mill pool, took some snaps and the group of User10571 rejoined the main peloton.
Few delights compare with the Lower Road from Sittingbourne to Faversham, and I’m too old for most of them. The sun blazed straight ahead of us. The Swale and Sheppey laid out to the left, and, to the right, the sin that is the A2 was hidden behind bright green hedges and woods. If it’s possible to like a road junction, then I adore the right turn down Bysing Hall Lane, and the swoop down to the ponds. Once again Arthur was at hand……
Somebody, I forget who, slipped me some chocolate cake stuff outside the church at Faversham, and I realised, for the first time, I was tired. I pointed out my favourite building to anybody who was daft enough to listen, and made my way to the Graveney turn. You can only guess how happy I was standing there, telling people there was six miles to go, and being rewarded by the shiniest smiles.
So – breakfast, a few glasses of wine, home on the train, and out to dinner. There are two possible views on my behaviour that evening. The first is that I fell asleep several times and this was a kind of mini-disgrace. The second is that held by one of the people we were visiting, the very Bridget that Peter refers to above, who said that the ride is a good thing, and that sleeping it off is only to be expected. I think, in time, I’ll be forgiven by all.
I’ve got high hopes for October – very high hopes.
My fearful apprehension was even greater than usual before the start. A rash of cancellations, the slight doubt in Metcheck, the number of new riders and an irrational concern about my own bike having split a newish tyre on a recce ride a few days before, rendered the 'safety talk' even more excruciating than usual. That apprehension, I'm afraid, inspired a degree of over-control to the first part of the proceedings, which, I hope, those who were organised, will forgive. My thanks, in any case, to User10571, who fielded inquiries for 'status reports', and to Matt who was at the right place at the right time to direct traffic over the head of Blackfriars Bridge following our ejection from the Embankment by highways works. And apologies to Jason, who took upon himself to waymark at the top of London Bridge and got left behind for his pains. As you'd expect of somebody working for the finest transport organisation in the world, he made his way back and, nothing daunted, waymarked half a dozen times later in the night.
Who now remembers the security guard outside the Mayor’s conveniences? And what conveniences they are! Those who put a tyre in the rill had clearly not reckoned on Ken’s affection for historical rectitude in plumbing. We skipped the GLA building and headed down Tooley Street, Adrian twisting the knife a little more by remarking on the absence of fishtails, and then, slowly, but surely, and almost together, took the bus lane to Greenwich. There a regroup, and on to Woolwich (past a ghost bike at the A102 flyover) and another regroup, before slipping off the main roads, crying ‘bollards’ not once but twice. Past Thamesmead and on to Erith, we kept the speed down, and there was only a five minute wait for the TECs before we slid on to the A206, a road you wouldn’t necessarily want to run a group ride on during the day. There was the occasional flurry of speed as some of the younger ones (I name no names) found the slow pace a little too much to bear and shot off toward the QE2 bridge. We almost lost Davy just after the bridge, but, happily, he rejoined us after a short diversion round a traffic island.
By now the ride had a serious air of perfection about it. We’d approach a junction. Somebody would appear beside me and say ‘shall I mark this one?’ which they did. After a while there would be a polite queue for waymarking duties, and I’d be stuck for choice, although assigning two people to the same roundabout soaked up a little of the surplus good will. Being at the front insulates you from the drama at the back, but, from what I gathered, there was precious little. The TECs were the juice. Peter took his time on the uphills from Greenhithe to Northfleet, and the TECs took their time with him, and I know they were happy to do so - Alan L replaced Paddington after a while, and Tim H, Aperitif, User10571 and Alan B stuck with the back pretty much for the entire ride.
There was some serious architectural appreciation in Gravesend, which was very gratifying. Next time I’ll bring my Pevsner….(registrations for Southend go into reverse)
And then, leaving Chalk, the magic moment. We went over a slight rise, to see the marshes laid out to our left, and the Thames’ oily snake reflecting the lights of Essex. A little ahead and to our right a line of poplars made a stark skyline even starker still. A full, hard moon lit up the land and the sky.
This section of the ride is dreamy. Small ups and downs, through open land, toward the yellow glow of the Medway towns just over the horizon. Strood arrives all of a sudden – within a few minutes, we’d twisted through a bit of a suburb and come across a magnificent view over the river, before swooping down, cutting through a little path over what was once a canal lock, before cycling along the river’s side, checking out, of all things, a Russian submarine.
Arthur’s pictures of Andy’s Café tell the story – it was like a Hopper in reverse, light and conversation bursting out in to the street. Sandwiches, identified by numbers, came and were eaten, swilled down by tea. It took a while to extract the last rider from the toilet, but, when the man himself appeared, gleaming with satisfaction, we trundled off through Chatham, and out, once again, on to the flat.
The ride still held together remarkably well. Regrouping at Upnor, formulating roof theories, was more fun than waiting. When Els’s tyre went pop User10571 sent the larger portion of the ride on and we trundled through Sittingbourne at a seriously slow pace, with Adrian doing the TEC bit for us while I chatted to Barry Jordan in a far more carefree manner than ever we did when we were on the CTC Council together. And then, Hengist’s Thong. And what a thong it was! 80 acres. We admired the mill pool, took some snaps and the group of User10571 rejoined the main peloton.
Few delights compare with the Lower Road from Sittingbourne to Faversham, and I’m too old for most of them. The sun blazed straight ahead of us. The Swale and Sheppey laid out to the left, and, to the right, the sin that is the A2 was hidden behind bright green hedges and woods. If it’s possible to like a road junction, then I adore the right turn down Bysing Hall Lane, and the swoop down to the ponds. Once again Arthur was at hand……
Somebody, I forget who, slipped me some chocolate cake stuff outside the church at Faversham, and I realised, for the first time, I was tired. I pointed out my favourite building to anybody who was daft enough to listen, and made my way to the Graveney turn. You can only guess how happy I was standing there, telling people there was six miles to go, and being rewarded by the shiniest smiles.
So – breakfast, a few glasses of wine, home on the train, and out to dinner. There are two possible views on my behaviour that evening. The first is that I fell asleep several times and this was a kind of mini-disgrace. The second is that held by one of the people we were visiting, the very Bridget that Peter refers to above, who said that the ride is a good thing, and that sleeping it off is only to be expected. I think, in time, I’ll be forgiven by all.
I’ve got high hopes for October – very high hopes.
benborp
Guru
- Location
- further from Penge
dellzeqq said:
I'm sorry Simon, I did feel a twinge of guilt as I went by, but there was just a beautiful symmetry to the move that I couldn't resist: that just as you were passing someone as if they were stood still I should then pass you...
And I did have a Guiness at Whitstable which I believe did me good. Cheers Matt.
benborp
Guru
- Location
- further from Penge
I feel bad again.
Nice write-up, Simon. And I expect Ned will be PMing you to borrow the Pevsner - he seemed particularly keen on the architectural hotspots. You forgot the hops. They were doing a lot of whatever-you-do-with-hops, which were piled high and poorly contained by a loose wire-fenced enclosure, with the result that the giant hop-mound was encroaching substantially on the road as we passed. It made me think of the How Would You Like To Die? thread in the Cafe. Just after dawn under a heap of Fuggles and Goldings on a late-summer FNRttC can't be a bad way to go...
Aperitif
Meme bar
- Location
- ...I don't have much idea - really.
Further evidence to support the lost cause of those who spend their Friday Night's abed...get on your 'horses' and ride!
Lee in the foreground, with an impatient Anthony Sittingduck just behind. Being the last in has no appeal whatsoever...looking through the window like an urchin, watching steaming tea kissing lips...
Ah good - Andy's Café is certified.
There was light entertainment to be had, in the ample thighed (65cm relaxed) Davy Nureyev, who thought to throw some shapes and display a well-balanced form whilst drinking a beverage.
So many lovely photos by others, I'm not posting any 'countryside snaps' (real reason: tired and couldn't be bothered to think of image making) but things perked up when we established ourselves at the Café...
Tarte Tatin & theclaud. Don't let the carefree expressions fool you - these women were utterly Ruthless...
...until she came back! Welcome to the Friday Night Ride, Ruth. You must have had a bizarre induction into the FNRttC, followed by the CycleChat 'Hall of Fame' on the Saturday morning/lunchtime/afternoon.
I mentioned 'protegé watch earlier..and a photo has duly appeared. This variation, a combined effort from two lithe athletes is barely enough to conceal the bulging, yet relaxed thighs (65cm I believe...) of the Davywalnuts physique...
An emergency session of the P&L forum was called.
It was a crisis point in the day as the glasses were in need of replenishment...soon remedied, and they returned to the Café thread. "CycleChat Live" - a bit like a Radio 1 Roadshow, but without the divs.
A final pic - the departing researchers, who declared Whitstable unstable...
Andrea, Ruth, part of Davywalnuts (55% at a rough guess) Simon (telling anyone within earshot that not a word of this is to get back to the CTC), Matt (looking right stately), Andy (he hit giggle mode early on and didn't stop), Alastair (jovial enough for someone who only had '2 maybe 3' pints...) Anthony (still puzzled as to why his glass always emptied every time he put it down near MacB and turned away) and Claudine (still laughing at dellzeqq's attempt to get his point across).
Luke is missing - presumed sleeping somewhere. He slept standing up on the train back - but I will not post a photo of this, oh no.
Lee in the foreground, with an impatient Anthony Sittingduck just behind. Being the last in has no appeal whatsoever...looking through the window like an urchin, watching steaming tea kissing lips...
Ah good - Andy's Café is certified.
There was light entertainment to be had, in the ample thighed (65cm relaxed) Davy Nureyev, who thought to throw some shapes and display a well-balanced form whilst drinking a beverage.
So many lovely photos by others, I'm not posting any 'countryside snaps' (real reason: tired and couldn't be bothered to think of image making) but things perked up when we established ourselves at the Café...
Tarte Tatin & theclaud. Don't let the carefree expressions fool you - these women were utterly Ruthless...
...until she came back! Welcome to the Friday Night Ride, Ruth. You must have had a bizarre induction into the FNRttC, followed by the CycleChat 'Hall of Fame' on the Saturday morning/lunchtime/afternoon.
I mentioned 'protegé watch earlier..and a photo has duly appeared. This variation, a combined effort from two lithe athletes is barely enough to conceal the bulging, yet relaxed thighs (65cm I believe...) of the Davywalnuts physique...
An emergency session of the P&L forum was called.
It was a crisis point in the day as the glasses were in need of replenishment...soon remedied, and they returned to the Café thread. "CycleChat Live" - a bit like a Radio 1 Roadshow, but without the divs.
A final pic - the departing researchers, who declared Whitstable unstable...
Andrea, Ruth, part of Davywalnuts (55% at a rough guess) Simon (telling anyone within earshot that not a word of this is to get back to the CTC), Matt (looking right stately), Andy (he hit giggle mode early on and didn't stop), Alastair (jovial enough for someone who only had '2 maybe 3' pints...) Anthony (still puzzled as to why his glass always emptied every time he put it down near MacB and turned away) and Claudine (still laughing at dellzeqq's attempt to get his point across).
Luke is missing - presumed sleeping somewhere. He slept standing up on the train back - but I will not post a photo of this, oh no.
arallsopp
Post of The Year 2009 winner
- Location
- Bromley, Kent
Put your left legg inAperitif said:
your left legg out
In, out, in, out
shake it all about.
Do the Hokey-Cokey and you turn around
That's what it's all about.
Davywalnuts
Chief Kebab Taster
- Location
- Staines!
Oh go on Aperitif! Post this pic of Luke! I've had to suffer the shame!
benborp
Guru
- Location
- further from Penge
I feel bad again.
Aperitif
Meme bar
- Location
- ...I don't have much idea - really.
Do you recall doing the splits on the 'beach' Davy? You held onto your bike very well...
It was a variation on the Okey-Cokey...the one where you put both legs in
Not posting the pic of Luke, only because it is a bit out of focus. The lady sitting opposite me kept asking if we wanted her to move so that he could sit down. I think she thought he was going to topple over.
I sent a text to mikee whilst Victoria bound, giving him a roll call of the remaining suspects on the train. On Sunday I discovered that it had been sent to the landline of Action Signs (someone I deal with) - oh well- the thought was there.
It also decended into Grade 1 gibberish at the end as predictive text and unpredictive mind clashed head-on.
It was a variation on the Okey-Cokey...the one where you put both legs in
Not posting the pic of Luke, only because it is a bit out of focus. The lady sitting opposite me kept asking if we wanted her to move so that he could sit down. I think she thought he was going to topple over.
I sent a text to mikee whilst Victoria bound, giving him a roll call of the remaining suspects on the train. On Sunday I discovered that it had been sent to the landline of Action Signs (someone I deal with) - oh well- the thought was there.
It also decended into Grade 1 gibberish at the end as predictive text and unpredictive mind clashed head-on.
