Surely not, Dell never snoozes after a ride, and definitely never on the train.
Then again, neither do The Claud, Susie or myself.
FNRttC Friday Night Ride to the Coast - Brighton April 26th
- Thread starter dellzeqq
- Start date
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Then again, neither do The Claud, Susie or myself.
slowmotion
Quite dreadful
- Location
- lost somewhere
A fantastic trip. The Brighton ride has been my nemesis many times before.
I had never been up any of the three hills before without stopping or walking. I cheated with a 28-28 combo and probably looked like a demented rat on a wheel. Mr Nuts had a "66". I had a "26".
I'm sorry that TMN and TC had mechanical and physicals. Claudine asked for tools at the Scout Hut . A whole lot of people tried to help. Top people.
Our Great And Glorious Leader was giving advice to somebody at the car-park in Ditchling. " Get in the lowest gear...stay there. Move up a gear if you want, but start low. And remember, it isn't finished until it's finished. beware of the false summit"
I followed the wheel of a young lady......three feet away, all the way up Ditchling, with my gasping and sniffling and cursing . She pulled over only about two hundred metres from the top. It cannot have been much fun to have me behind . I apologise.. I should have given more encouragement but I wobbled on by. Whoever you were, I send a lot of thanks.
It was great to meet new people, and get to know others a bit better . And thank-you Wetherspoons...
.. and the rather wonderful people at Hammersmith Hospital
I had never been up any of the three hills before without stopping or walking. I cheated with a 28-28 combo and probably looked like a demented rat on a wheel. Mr Nuts had a "66". I had a "26".
I'm sorry that TMN and TC had mechanical and physicals. Claudine asked for tools at the Scout Hut . A whole lot of people tried to help. Top people.
Our Great And Glorious Leader was giving advice to somebody at the car-park in Ditchling. " Get in the lowest gear...stay there. Move up a gear if you want, but start low. And remember, it isn't finished until it's finished. beware of the false summit"
I followed the wheel of a young lady......three feet away, all the way up Ditchling, with my gasping and sniffling and cursing . She pulled over only about two hundred metres from the top. It cannot have been much fun to have me behind . I apologise.. I should have given more encouragement but I wobbled on by. Whoever you were, I send a lot of thanks.
It was great to meet new people, and get to know others a bit better . And thank-you Wetherspoons...
.. and the rather wonderful people at Hammersmith Hospital
slowmotion
Quite dreadful
- Location
- lost somewhere
Thank-you all the TECs and Waymarkers. Great job.
U
User10571
Guest
U
User10571
Guest
Ah!
All good then.
All good then.
swansonj
Guru
I'm sure I can't be the first person who, on a Monday morning after the first FNRttC after a winter gap of six months, finds words from The Journey of the Magi coming to mind? Not the rather obvious "A cold coming we had of it" but "We returned to our places, these Kingdoms, But no longer at ease here in the old dispensation, With an alien people clutching their gods. I should be glad of another Friday." That's certainly how I've been feeling all weekend. thanks Simon and everyone for my most enjoyable Friday yet.
(I think in the original it is another death he should be glad of, but that would slightly spoil the effect..)
(I think in the original it is another death he should be glad of, but that would slightly spoil the effect..)
thom
____
- Location
- The Borough
Just 3 photos. Thankyou Simon for the latest edition of London-> Brighton.
For a large ride with one or two mechanical hold ups in the early morning cold, it must have made pretty good progress because we started arriving at the Madeira at 7.45. Some memories:
For a large ride with one or two mechanical hold ups in the early morning cold, it must have made pretty good progress because we started arriving at the Madeira at 7.45. Some memories:
- Unfortunately getting stuck behind a lorry coming down Reigate Hill
- A chilly moon on Lonesome Lane
- The warmth and hospitality of the Scout Hut
- Swapping turns at the front after Turner's Hill with the moon full but setting in the west as the sun rose across chilly fields.
- Way-marking at the top of Bedale's Hill before Slugwash Lane with the sun lighting up the fields behind the oncoming cyclists
- Moving slowly through the tiring group around Streat's energy sapping rolling ups and downs, requiring genuine effort just to get to the bottom of the beacon
To echo Martins sentiments, a big thanks to all involved.
But we all really need to give SloMo a big pat on the back, I guess he will need to change his moniker as he’s now speeding up whatever incline the topography can throw at him. And if you ask him nicely, he’ll show you his scars.
Dogtrousers
Kilometre nibbler
You seem to have had a fantastic time, I'm envious. However I'm actually glad I didn't do this one. If the lurgi that visited me on Saturday morning (loss of control of body temperature, shivers, sweats and aching bones) had arrived en route to Brighton I think I would have ended up spending most of the night at Haywards Heath or Balcombe or somewhere waiting for the first train back.
U
User482
Guest
My repose may or may not be connected to the hipflask in front of me...
Anyway, I had a thoroughly wonderful time, and many thanks are due to @Davywalnuts for leading me back to the Great Wen, for my first ever SMRBtH.
Hey, User482.. good to have you on the SMRbtH.. and I forgot to thank you for the little flask you provided in Lingfield for when I needed a warming top up
Davywalnuts
Chief Kebab Taster
- Location
- Staines!
In the excitement and knowledge of leaving for Hyde park corner after a hard day at work, enjoying the ride in, soaking up the Friday night party atmosphere of West London, the sights sounds and smells with the trusty stead ticking over in working order soundly and arriving, for possibly the first time ever, on time and in a content, happy somewhat peaceful mood, I knew that the road ahead was going to be a great one.
That slight of wrinkle on ones forehead when casting look in quandary at LongMartin's garb being more akin to a Southerner in full winter mode would be the only clue that I am getting older, but still not fully with a grasp of wisdom. 'Bah', my naive mind replied, full well knowing the ride back from Brighton and my dress sense with possible tanning opportunity would prove fruitful, and indeed it was...
What happen's on a night is one of general joy, commaradary and pleasure, with a slight sprinkling of what ever Mother Nature so cares to amuse us with. And so the ride began and all was well. A few slight minor mechanical's but nothing major. It got colder, I lost feeling in my feet, but convinced it would be no worse than +4, I would live. Dreams of battered Haddock & Chips on my home return filled my mind with enough wander to distract from the numbness.. Mmmmm, as I though of the hot tea the Scout Hut warming me through in the not so distant future.
The combo of Reigate hill, the dropping chill and a few extended mechanical stops ended with the net effect of total loss of internal heat and left me much worse than I let on. What I fool I was. Owner of more cycle clothing than I can wash in a month of Sundays and I come out dressed for summer... what a numpty. Glad offerings came around, but years of kebab and protein abuse renders most normal sized clothes in a state of fear of being replicated in such a way, that only The Hulk knows best.. My first savoir of the night was Paul, my fellow TEC, with a rather swanky Sportful HotPack over shell. Oh how I was happy. Until I was dressed in it.. It was an XL. It lied.. I am merely a large to XL in most clothing. Arms, just fine, chest, no chance, but it was better than nothing and I was very very grateful. Said lender also later released to me a Buff which was fantastic and I should have gladly taken earlier. Why did I leave mine at home. The vision of it being warm and cosy on my bed frustrated me. A call from his Lordship and I lost the TEC's and my only chance for slight shelter. The magnificent Lonesome Lane drew upon and being at one with nature on a splendid passage kept me smiling, till my face cramped up awkwardly with the rest of the body shacking violently and thoughts of dying was a better option. But how would I cycle back to home in the morning and keep my miles ticking over to close up on the wonder mile muncher that Ianrauk? And so I thought best not to give up the ghost. 'Bad'lands drew up two 'light at the end of the tunnel' experiences. First being a wonderful waymarker, whom I apologize for keeping waiting, then of an illuminated god like figure sporting a shiny white knee coverage.. it was our leader. I think LongMart was there too, dunno, I wasn't thinking right. A scout hut has never looked so appealing, ever.
The next savour of the night was MarkSt1 with a super Castelli jacket, that at less than a millimeter thick, was as comfy as a duvet. I was as snug as a bug in a rug. To both these people, you have my eternal gratitude and thanks and beers on me at Whitstable.
The ride thereafter was simply fab again and the rising Sun coupled in the electric painted sky with the setting Moon in the oppersite direction is a wonder, a true spectacle.
I have never been a fan of riding to Brighton. Why so many charities and riders choose to punish themselves on a ride that never settles and inclines that strikes fear in the face of, well, pretty much every one and drains the harden was beyond me. But I am now a convert. Climbing Ditchling, single speed on a 66" gear AND with the drag of a dynamo front hub I might add, I could feel the sense of achievement, splendor and accomplishment from the very last rider I was shadowing, whilst I was barely ticking over and in convo with Dellzeqq. The rider, I forget his name, he did very well, bravo. I forget how far I've come to do it with such ease. Moments late at the top, a female rider came puffing up the hill spinning in the granny ring. The smile told it all. Her first time she added and a round of applause she had. I guess to succeed we must struggle. But to enjoy that struggle is what makes everlasting smiles.
Brekkie was a first for me.. No chips! And so an intrepid eight cyclists chose to punish themselves further by cycling back. They also entrusted me with the route.. I don't think that will happen again as I could feel my ears burning on every slight incline we had. I say slight, as honestly, they weren't that bad. It was the headwind making it seem harder... honest!
.
We learnt a few new call signs on the way back, the first being "Hail!", followed by "ouch".. Then "Carpet!", which, curiously developed into "Flooring".. It seems, somehow, that the wonderfully smooth roads of Surrey could in no way be to blame for said items falling from which ever vehicles they did, must have been the bad driving...
But, with User482 delivered into London on time (am sure?) my job was done and home, via my local chippy at around 4pm with just over 140 well worked for miles on the clock.
I lied twice on that ride. Once to TMN and once to Dell.. I can climb, just, and I do go downhill fast.. when its appropriate. But the speedo did the biggest lie to me.. It suggested I hit over 65mph somewhere on the ride.. damn it.
I don't know how many night rides I have had the pleasure of being a part of but every one of them has been great and this was no exception.
So thank you one and all, it was fab!
That slight of wrinkle on ones forehead when casting look in quandary at LongMartin's garb being more akin to a Southerner in full winter mode would be the only clue that I am getting older, but still not fully with a grasp of wisdom. 'Bah', my naive mind replied, full well knowing the ride back from Brighton and my dress sense with possible tanning opportunity would prove fruitful, and indeed it was...
What happen's on a night is one of general joy, commaradary and pleasure, with a slight sprinkling of what ever Mother Nature so cares to amuse us with. And so the ride began and all was well. A few slight minor mechanical's but nothing major. It got colder, I lost feeling in my feet, but convinced it would be no worse than +4, I would live. Dreams of battered Haddock & Chips on my home return filled my mind with enough wander to distract from the numbness.. Mmmmm, as I though of the hot tea the Scout Hut warming me through in the not so distant future.
The combo of Reigate hill, the dropping chill and a few extended mechanical stops ended with the net effect of total loss of internal heat and left me much worse than I let on. What I fool I was. Owner of more cycle clothing than I can wash in a month of Sundays and I come out dressed for summer... what a numpty. Glad offerings came around, but years of kebab and protein abuse renders most normal sized clothes in a state of fear of being replicated in such a way, that only The Hulk knows best.. My first savoir of the night was Paul, my fellow TEC, with a rather swanky Sportful HotPack over shell. Oh how I was happy. Until I was dressed in it.. It was an XL. It lied.. I am merely a large to XL in most clothing. Arms, just fine, chest, no chance, but it was better than nothing and I was very very grateful. Said lender also later released to me a Buff which was fantastic and I should have gladly taken earlier. Why did I leave mine at home. The vision of it being warm and cosy on my bed frustrated me. A call from his Lordship and I lost the TEC's and my only chance for slight shelter. The magnificent Lonesome Lane drew upon and being at one with nature on a splendid passage kept me smiling, till my face cramped up awkwardly with the rest of the body shacking violently and thoughts of dying was a better option. But how would I cycle back to home in the morning and keep my miles ticking over to close up on the wonder mile muncher that Ianrauk? And so I thought best not to give up the ghost. 'Bad'lands drew up two 'light at the end of the tunnel' experiences. First being a wonderful waymarker, whom I apologize for keeping waiting, then of an illuminated god like figure sporting a shiny white knee coverage.. it was our leader. I think LongMart was there too, dunno, I wasn't thinking right. A scout hut has never looked so appealing, ever.
The next savour of the night was MarkSt1 with a super Castelli jacket, that at less than a millimeter thick, was as comfy as a duvet. I was as snug as a bug in a rug. To both these people, you have my eternal gratitude and thanks and beers on me at Whitstable.
The ride thereafter was simply fab again and the rising Sun coupled in the electric painted sky with the setting Moon in the oppersite direction is a wonder, a true spectacle.
I have never been a fan of riding to Brighton. Why so many charities and riders choose to punish themselves on a ride that never settles and inclines that strikes fear in the face of, well, pretty much every one and drains the harden was beyond me. But I am now a convert. Climbing Ditchling, single speed on a 66" gear AND with the drag of a dynamo front hub I might add, I could feel the sense of achievement, splendor and accomplishment from the very last rider I was shadowing, whilst I was barely ticking over and in convo with Dellzeqq. The rider, I forget his name, he did very well, bravo. I forget how far I've come to do it with such ease. Moments late at the top, a female rider came puffing up the hill spinning in the granny ring. The smile told it all. Her first time she added and a round of applause she had. I guess to succeed we must struggle. But to enjoy that struggle is what makes everlasting smiles.
Brekkie was a first for me.. No chips! And so an intrepid eight cyclists chose to punish themselves further by cycling back. They also entrusted me with the route.. I don't think that will happen again as I could feel my ears burning on every slight incline we had. I say slight, as honestly, they weren't that bad. It was the headwind making it seem harder... honest!
.We learnt a few new call signs on the way back, the first being "Hail!", followed by "ouch".. Then "Carpet!", which, curiously developed into "Flooring".. It seems, somehow, that the wonderfully smooth roads of Surrey could in no way be to blame for said items falling from which ever vehicles they did, must have been the bad driving...
But, with User482 delivered into London on time (am sure?) my job was done and home, via my local chippy at around 4pm with just over 140 well worked for miles on the clock.
I lied twice on that ride. Once to TMN and once to Dell.. I can climb, just, and I do go downhill fast.. when its appropriate. But the speedo did the biggest lie to me.. It suggested I hit over 65mph somewhere on the ride.. damn it.
I don't know how many night rides I have had the pleasure of being a part of but every one of them has been great and this was no exception.
So thank you one and all, it was fab!
mark st1
Plastic Manc
- Location
- Leafy Berkshire
Your lucky im a fellow kebaber
