StuAff
Silencing his legs regularly
- Location
- Portsmouth
As I've done in the past, I've been somewhat remiss about writing this one up, but thought I ought to before the next ride- that's Whitstable (like the last time I was this tardy) this Friday. Queue exciting time travel effect....
As so often, this was a work night, so usual pre-and-post ride arrangements for me. I'd brought most of the ride gear into work on Thursday, bottles filled and bike loaded in meal break, then a dash round to the station at 9.30 for the 9.38 service to Waterloo (better than hanging around for another half hour). Thankfully, this was mission accomplished, so changing on the train it was. Train was bang on time, and as often seems to happen, @CharlieB was in the concourse seeking caffeine. We made our way down to the NT to join the gathering. 50 or so in all, a mix of new faces, old faces, older faces, and even older faces. A particular pleasure was to see the one and only Mike E, of Really North (now Barton on Humber). It's been a few years!!
After ride leader Ross delivered the safety talk, off east we went, slightly after midnight, but this is one of the easiest and shortest on the calendar, so not a problem. Along the Embankment, Blackfriars, Upper Thames Street, past Tower Bridge and then Wapping. Cobblestones, rather less painful for me than most I should imagine, thanks to being on a titanium frame and 35mm tyres. Stratford saw the obligatory 'local colour', in the form of a woman having a heated argument, first on the phone then with the other party in person. She was last seen walking off with four policemen looking for her…
Urban traffic eventually dissipated as we went into Essex, through Ilford, north of Romford (Underworld earworm naturally started playing), and after a couple of hours we were across the M25 and into the rural dark- unlike if we'd gone the most direct way to Southend (which as SMRBtH riders will know, is nearly 100% urban grot, and far less pleasant). Our route was rather more rolling (though some complained of 'hills', nothing anyone used to the South Downs would find too taxing).
No Junction 31 for halfway, thankfully. Ross had recruited the 1st Doddinghurst Scout group, north of Brentwood and a short distance from Kelvedon Hatch and its not-very-secret nuclear bunker. They had laid on a truly extraordinary spread, and I made my usual reluctant effort to make a dent in it. Burp…Even more extraordinarily, they'd like to have us back!
After an hour or so, off we went, taking stock of the windmill in Stock, before Buttsbury Ford. Now, a decade ago, someone decided to ride through it, and found his waterproof boots were rather good at holding it in too. I didn't make that mistake again, though Greg decided he wanted the title of Ford Prefect for himself. It did look rather shallower than 2012, but rather him than me!
The last stretch in the dawn was as per usual- skirting north of Hanningfield Reservoir, then south, through Rayleigh and its grindy climb, down to Leigh on Sea, and the final flat stretch along the front, where the forecast headwind, having not made much of an appearance earlier on, finally materialised, though nothing too strenuous. Usual splendid service at Beaches, the breakfast hit the spot. Then back to the station, where certain people resisted Titus' entrieties to spread themselves along the carriages and all piled in at one end. The service back to Fenchurch Street did not go according to plan. It should have taken an hour. It took over an hour to get as far as West Ham (I think) and then return to Barking on account of a points failure. This handily offered the option of a District Line service to continue. Titus, Greg and I took that option. Others, for some reason, opted to continue by bike. I opted to leave it at Blackfriars (lifts all the way to the surface) and then a short familiar ride back to Waterloo. Just made the next available (slow) train, and ended up staying on it longer than planned due to being too far back for the shorter platform at my nearest station. Oh well. Tea and sleep soon followed.
Weather looking rather excellent for Friday, report should be less tardy. Probably.
On a geographically related note, this video popped up on YouTube the following week from the excellent Jonny Smith. Two blokes from Essex have been painstakingly working for some years on a replica, fully road-legal, of the legendary, terrifying, and legendarily terrifying Porsche 917, Le Mans 24hr winner in 1970 & 1971. After being thwarted by changed regulations in endurance racing an open turbo version (1100 bhp plus!!) beat all comers in the North American CanAm series, until the goalposts got moved again. How terrifying? Well, it was rushed into racing within a year from the drawing board, and wind tunnel testing concentrated on drag rather than lift. The result was it was all over the track at anything over 180 mph. Top speed at Le Mans, for some miles on the Mulsanne Straight, over 230 mph…by the 1970 race they'd sorted the aero, Porsche got their first win, and this is a replica of that model, the 917K. The similar 1971 winning car, which set a Le Mans distance record unchallenged until 2010, has never been driven again for fear its fragile, and highly flammable, magnesium chassis might crack (the tubes were filled with gas, and the driver had a pressure gauge to warn of damage!)…Southend veterans will recognise many of the locations in this test, not just the seafront. More info on this phenomenal recreation here.
Thanks everyone. See you Friday(s)!
As so often, this was a work night, so usual pre-and-post ride arrangements for me. I'd brought most of the ride gear into work on Thursday, bottles filled and bike loaded in meal break, then a dash round to the station at 9.30 for the 9.38 service to Waterloo (better than hanging around for another half hour). Thankfully, this was mission accomplished, so changing on the train it was. Train was bang on time, and as often seems to happen, @CharlieB was in the concourse seeking caffeine. We made our way down to the NT to join the gathering. 50 or so in all, a mix of new faces, old faces, older faces, and even older faces. A particular pleasure was to see the one and only Mike E, of Really North (now Barton on Humber). It's been a few years!!
After ride leader Ross delivered the safety talk, off east we went, slightly after midnight, but this is one of the easiest and shortest on the calendar, so not a problem. Along the Embankment, Blackfriars, Upper Thames Street, past Tower Bridge and then Wapping. Cobblestones, rather less painful for me than most I should imagine, thanks to being on a titanium frame and 35mm tyres. Stratford saw the obligatory 'local colour', in the form of a woman having a heated argument, first on the phone then with the other party in person. She was last seen walking off with four policemen looking for her…
Urban traffic eventually dissipated as we went into Essex, through Ilford, north of Romford (Underworld earworm naturally started playing), and after a couple of hours we were across the M25 and into the rural dark- unlike if we'd gone the most direct way to Southend (which as SMRBtH riders will know, is nearly 100% urban grot, and far less pleasant). Our route was rather more rolling (though some complained of 'hills', nothing anyone used to the South Downs would find too taxing).
No Junction 31 for halfway, thankfully. Ross had recruited the 1st Doddinghurst Scout group, north of Brentwood and a short distance from Kelvedon Hatch and its not-very-secret nuclear bunker. They had laid on a truly extraordinary spread, and I made my usual reluctant effort to make a dent in it. Burp…
Even more extraordinarily, they'd like to have us back!After an hour or so, off we went, taking stock of the windmill in Stock, before Buttsbury Ford. Now, a decade ago, someone decided to ride through it, and found his waterproof boots were rather good at holding it in too. I didn't make that mistake again, though Greg decided he wanted the title of Ford Prefect for himself. It did look rather shallower than 2012, but rather him than me!
The last stretch in the dawn was as per usual- skirting north of Hanningfield Reservoir, then south, through Rayleigh and its grindy climb, down to Leigh on Sea, and the final flat stretch along the front, where the forecast headwind, having not made much of an appearance earlier on, finally materialised, though nothing too strenuous. Usual splendid service at Beaches, the breakfast hit the spot. Then back to the station, where certain people resisted Titus' entrieties to spread themselves along the carriages and all piled in at one end. The service back to Fenchurch Street did not go according to plan. It should have taken an hour. It took over an hour to get as far as West Ham (I think) and then return to Barking on account of a points failure. This handily offered the option of a District Line service to continue. Titus, Greg and I took that option. Others, for some reason, opted to continue by bike. I opted to leave it at Blackfriars (lifts all the way to the surface) and then a short familiar ride back to Waterloo. Just made the next available (slow) train, and ended up staying on it longer than planned due to being too far back for the shorter platform at my nearest station. Oh well. Tea and sleep soon followed.
Weather looking rather excellent for Friday, report should be less tardy. Probably.
On a geographically related note, this video popped up on YouTube the following week from the excellent Jonny Smith. Two blokes from Essex have been painstakingly working for some years on a replica, fully road-legal, of the legendary, terrifying, and legendarily terrifying Porsche 917, Le Mans 24hr winner in 1970 & 1971. After being thwarted by changed regulations in endurance racing an open turbo version (1100 bhp plus!!) beat all comers in the North American CanAm series, until the goalposts got moved again. How terrifying? Well, it was rushed into racing within a year from the drawing board, and wind tunnel testing concentrated on drag rather than lift. The result was it was all over the track at anything over 180 mph. Top speed at Le Mans, for some miles on the Mulsanne Straight, over 230 mph…by the 1970 race they'd sorted the aero, Porsche got their first win, and this is a replica of that model, the 917K. The similar 1971 winning car, which set a Le Mans distance record unchallenged until 2010, has never been driven again for fear its fragile, and highly flammable, magnesium chassis might crack (the tubes were filled with gas, and the driver had a pressure gauge to warn of damage!)…Southend veterans will recognise many of the locations in this test, not just the seafront. More info on this phenomenal recreation here.
Thanks everyone. See you Friday(s)!
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