FNRttC Friday Night Ride to the Coast - Southend on Sea 7th November

[clarion]

It's not like it was a horizontal dropout...

 

[frank9755]

The ride was quite a joy with near perfect weather for November, and a route that has clearly been fine-tuned to perfection.

There weren't any lowlights, but some highlights for me were:
- Waving to people while waymarking at unsuspecting roundabouts
- Being able to keep up with Susie on some hills (which I wasn't able to do when carrying luggage on the ride to Paris)
- Leaving Stock village hall with water, not ice, in my bottle
- Chatting to a couple of people going through London who asked us what we were doing: a driver on the embankment who was so surprised that he started to drive through a red light, and a shocked-looking pedestrian on London Bridge kept asking, 'But, why? What are you riding for?'

If only he knew...! I had a smile on my face the whole night.

Thanks very much to Olaf for persuading me to ride back.

SMRbtH isn't normally my cup of tea. I'd only done it twice before. The first time was back from Southend, when all the people who knew the way gradually peeled off for home leaving a bunch of us to get a bit lost and end up on the A13, before. The second was with Rimas, when we came back from Brighton in heavy rain. I entered the roundabout too fast and on the wrong line, and came off, then immediately heard another clatter as Rimas fell off in sympathy, before we limped home, commenting on the miracle properties of lycra shorts in remaining undamaged while the skin on our hips underneath was sliced off.

However this one was different. We were eager to get back for the party, so it was a bit quick! Olaf on his new bike is still extremely powerful but noticeably faster up hills. Andrew was going very well, Michael on his belt-drive machine was not slow either, and Peter has done 25 miles in 51 minutes. It was not surprising that Charlie found the pace a bit tough and, while he was keeping up, it clearly wasn't doing his leg any good (thanks Charlie for retrieving my favourite cap when I missed my pocket!) We quickly mopped up three others (sorry I don't know any names) as we were heading back out into the country.

The route was pleasant; basically it followed the way we had come out, minus the detour to Stock, and it was fun to see the the Essex lanes again in daylight.
- The only mishap was two punctures, both in the same wheel, with a worn racing tyre the likely cause. Better it failed when it did than during the night. And Olaf came to the rescue with a spare tyre.
- One comedy moment was when we got routed onto a path through a children's park and had to do an emergency stop as we spotted a couple of steps just ahead of us!

We made it to All Bar One by 12:15, and were cheered to see that there were dozens of bikes chained up outside. The beer and conversation started flowing and, because there was so much to say to so many good friends, the time disappeared. But, if someone had said to me beforehand that it was possible for someone to fall asleep in a noisy pub and have a cactus balancing on their head but not know anything about it until seeing a picture on the internet the following day, I'd never have believed them! How wrong I was.

Thanks, Simon, for making FNRttC one of the best very things I've had the good fortune to be involved with and for sharing it so generously. And to many others for contributing so much.

 

[arallsopp]

It was indeed a magic night [...] and as with others FNRttC has reminded me of just what is possible....

Gordon. In that, I think you have it. I've been sat here a while, trying to work out what I can write about the FNRttC. As always, best to defer to the man himself, in this snippet from his write up of my first FNRttC.

The starting point for 44 different stories

In my case, this was literal. The FNRttC introduced me to the ride report. It offered a narrative and demonstrated how to record it. The miles of quiet lanes located, facilitated and nurtured a troubled author inside me, encouraging him to start writing about the things and people I love. You held my hand through many nights, and eventually played midwife to "Barring Mechanicals". The things I'm known for now are all to do with The Fridays.

But is that just me? Habitually slow on the uptake, and inspired by the post ride drinks, I begin to realise, no.

The FNRttC maybe has a habit of defining its riders. In one part, its lazy shorthand for "[yournamehere]? Oh, [yournamehere] is crazy like about cycling. Rides through the night or something, does [yournamehere]..." but in a deeper sense, I find its really shaped and informed how I think of myself. Its introduced me to things that have become core to my identity. Its given me friends and loved ones that I will always have a place for. Its taught me how to cohabit with the unexpected, dance with peril, soar on affection, and succeed in challenges that should have broken me. Its given me a reputation for things that I'm sure are beyond me, and yet, with you around me, they get done.

You take me in times unlikely to places unexpected. You show me that unexpected and ill prepared is OK, desirable even. With the right group of compadres, its almost requisite. More than the launching point for the riders' stories, you take an existing story and turn it around. You do the greatest of conjuring tricks by putting us in a place we're ill equipped physically or mentally to deal with, then reveal that we are the magicians. That this is something we perhaps know how to do. A safe environment where we can trick ourselves into quiet achievement, and then demonstrate the faith that others have in our ability to repeat it.

I underestimated the FNRttC. I joined to learn how to ride, but its given all of us so much more. I don't think I'm exaggerating to say it gives many of us the fortitude to live as we do, to recover from the things that knock us. She leans close to our ear in the dead of night and says its OK if it rains for 50 miles. There will always be a dawn. When I thought my companions were cocooning me from the cold and the wind, I didn't notice I was changing inside that chrysalis. But perhaps we all were.

All these words, and I still don’t have it. Fitting, perhaps, then, that my fondest memory was a six mile stint, in the dark and the drizzle, to the side of a very dear friend of mine. A quiet silence extended between us, where only freewheels felt the need to speak. I thought back on that acceptance as I left Shad Thames, and registered the salty taste of a tear unexpectedly reaching my mouth. I know what it means to me.

 

[clarion]

Brilliant, Andy.

 

[User10571]

Top words, Allsop.
That is all.

 

[ianrauk]

Nice one Andy

 

[StuAff]

If that was the last ever FNR (at least under present management etc), well (IMHO) we need to have last ever rides more often (though that would be somewhat reminiscent of those retailers who somehow have permanent sales). Glorious to see, and ride with, @mikeee and Sig, and so many haven't-seen-you-in-ages peeps. Shame that even more were not there for whatever reason....

Finished work in good time to make the train of choice, but sadly not good enough to nip home and change first. Ho hum. Hop from Waterloo enlivened by my first sighting on the road of that ideal urban runabout, a Bugatti Veyron (at a rough guess, not the one that got vandalised recently). Over to the Arch in good time for the last safety talk of the year. And then, those famous words, 'we're on our way'. And so we went, past those Leggsian fish on Tooley Street, the delights of the tunnel (fumes! cough! fumes!, and is it me or is there a really nasty gradient in there? Probably me). On past the many churches of West Ham (probably less popular than the one with a pitch, I'd guess...), and that utterly stupid sculpture on the roundabout in Barking....a quick googling reveals this load of balderdash on the council website....

"The Lighted Lady of Barking is a sculpture by Dutch artist Joost Van Santen. It is situated at the roundabout where London Road and the Northern Relief Road meet the top of Abbey Road and at 20 metres high, forms a gateway into the Town Centre from the A406.
The Lady is constructed from steel with white coating and forms a silhouette that changes slightly as you move around it. The form is topped with a blue acrylic disc with light and contained to create an ethereal ellipse against the sky. The Lady is a reference to the protective maternal forces of nature and refers back in time to the existence of the Christian Abbey in the background
At night it is lit with multiple colours, reflecting on our current multi-coloured society and celebrating the benefits of this rich mix".

In other words, A Load Of..... It looks even worse in daytime. Barking (cashpoint/regroup stop) was busier than usual- though the nightlife seemed good natured enough. And on we went. Ford Prefects were not required on the route, but we were all glad to take Stock. The Tully family once again excelled themselves (bakewell tart was particularly fine). Simon's tale of Princess Margaret and Roddy Llewellyn was highly entertaining, though having heard the first two of these stories, their veracity does seem increasingly doubtful The cinder path was a bit more 'interesting' than usual. And finally, the Rose. The full Biker breakfast hit the spot, as it usually does.

I considered the options for getting back to Waterloo. Weather did me a favour, sort of, in that it stopped raining. Options for getting this month's ton in were looking thin on the ground- last weekend's weather was ****, next weekend's forecast looks like ****, the following weekend is not an option.... So, despite that lovely head/crosswind, I decided it was time to take some MTFU and ride. I just missed Team Olaf, but I had the strong suspicion that I was better off plodding on solo rather than holding others up. I proved myself right, I neither caught up with them (just read Frank's post, they were clearly too quick for that!) nor saw Team Woolwich Ferry, though I did see Charlie on Tattersall Gardens. Had Olaf's intended route on the Garmin- first part worked out OK, but for some reason or other the turns were being prompted at the wrong times (the Garmin's map seemed to be misaligned with the track) which made navigation a little 'interesting'. With the benefits of hindsight, I'd have used the route from when I last rode back from this one, if only for extra familiarity. Ended up deviating from the track when part of it seemed to be a private road ending in a car park, briefly headed towards Thurrock, but got back on course. Stopped for a breather at Ockenden, noticed a used tyre (Conti GP something or other) in a bin. One of ours? Progress remained slow, but I decided to stick with it. Once I got to Barking I remembered most of the way anyway, traffic round the Roundabout with The Appalling Sculpture was heavy, though I seemed to be the fastest thing on the road, which is always nice. Once I got into the centre, progress slowed to a crawl. Made it back to Waterloo in a rather slow (bloomin' headwind) 4 1/2 hours, in time enough for the next fast service south. And usual lethargy.

I've written in the past of the impact the FNRttC has had on my life. But, one way or another, this is the end of a very special era.
TECs, waymarkers, ladies and gentlemen in lycra, and most of all, friends, whether you turned up once or, like me, caught the bug and did every ride you could, thank you one and all for enriching my life in so many ways. And of course, thanks most of all to our leader. For being mad/sensible enough to come up with the idea in the first place, and mad/sensible enough to keep it going for so long despite the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. For doing so much Leggwork (couldn't resist that pun) in route planning and recces and finding friendly cafe owners. For having the patience of a saint, or at least giving the impression of having it on many occasions. For inspiring prose and occasional mild exaggeration on the ease of climbing certain hills. For entertaining and informative discourse on all manner of subjects at ridiculous o'clock. And for so much more. @dellzeqq, a cycle shop warehouse worth of 'chapeaux', and then some.

And as I've posted on Facebook, this is most emphatically not the end. It's the start of a new chapter. There will be night rides next year (actually, there's still one this year, in a fortnight down to my home town, details over on YACF). Usual and unusual subjects welcome. Hope to see a certain couple on his and hers Colnagos.

And now, some music...this one seemed apt to me in so many ways. The brothers Hartnoll (aka Orbital) recently announced they were disbanding. This was the closing track on what proved to be (if they don't reform for a second time) their final album. Suitably uplifting, often enjoyed at stupid o'clock, those glasses would be ideal for TECs (replicas available), and the title's a good question for our merry band. Where Is It Going? I intend to find out, and I think a lot of you do too. Be seeing you at HPC sometime. There are great breakfasts to be eaten, drunken clubbers to be bewildered, bollards to be dodged and roads less travelled to be enjoyed. Finished? No, we've only just started.

We will not be going quietly into the night. There's usually someone with a noisy freehub.

 

[Tim Hall]

Andy, those are excellent words.

Some pics of are here.

 

[StuAff]

Gordon. I that I think you have it. I've been sat here a while, trying to work out what I can write about the FNRttC. As always, best to defer to the man himself, in this snippet from his write up of my first FNRttC.



In my case, this was literal. The FNRttC introduced me to the ride report. It offered a narrative and demonstrated how to record it. The miles of quiet lanes located, facilitated and nurtured a troubled author inside me, encouraging him to start writing about the things and people I love. You held my hand through many nights, and eventually played midwife to "Barring Mechanicals". The things I'm known for now are all to do with The Fridays.

But is that just me? Habitually slow on the uptake, and inspired by the post ride drinks, I begin to realise, no.

The FNRttC maybe has a habit of defining its riders. In one part, its lazy shorthand for "[yournamehere]? Oh, [yournamehere] is crazy like about cycling. Rides through the night or something, does [yournamehere]..." but in a deeper sense, I find its really shaped and informed how I think of myself. Its introduced me to things that have become core to my identity. Its given me friends and loved ones that I will always have a place for. Its taught me how to cohabit with the unexpected, dance with peril, soar on affection, and succeed in challenges that should have broken me. Its given me a reputation for things that I'm sure are beyond me, and yet, with you around me, they get done.

You take me in times unlikely to places unexpected. You show me that unexpected and ill prepared is OK, desirable even. With the right group of compadres, its almost requisite. More than the launching point for the riders' stories, you take an existing story and turn it around. You do the greatest of conjuring tricks by putting us in a place we're ill equipped physically or mentally to deal with, then reveal that we are the magicians. That this is something we perhaps know how to do. A safe environment where we can trick ourselves into quiet achievement, and then demonstrate the faith that others have in our ability to repeat it.

I underestimated the FNRttC. I joined to learn how to ride, but its given all of us so much more. I don't think I'm exaggerating to say it gives many of us the fortitude to live as we do, to recover from the things that knock us. She leans close to our ear in the dead of night and says its OK if it rains for 50 miles. There will always be a dawn. When I thought my companions were cocooning me from the cold and the wind, I didn't notice I was changing inside that chrysalis. But perhaps we all were.

All these words, and I still don’t have it. Fitting, perhaps, then, that my fondest memory was a six mile stint, in the dark and the drizzle, to the side of a very dear friend of mine. A quiet silence extended between us, where only freewheels felt the need to speak. I thought back on that acceptance as I left Shad Thames, and registered the salty taste of a tear unexpectedly reaching my mouth. I know what it means to me.

You need to change the custom title there Andy. Post of the Year 2014 winner. Fine words indeed.

 

[Aperitif]

"She shells C shells on the sea shore?"
Usual good work Tim. Thanks for you company through the ride. No 23 is nice too, and you even captured the toffs in the boat - having a bit of a Mayor of a day.

 

[frank9755]

Stopped for a breather at Ockenden, noticed a used tyre (Conti GP something or other) in a bin. One of ours?

Yes, well spotted!

 

[arallsopp]

This....a thousand times over..

I too came to the Fridays after a serious illness. It was when looking for information on cycle touring that I came across @arallsopp´s epic write up of the 2009 LEL and the reference to FNRttC. As soon as I moved back to within striking range I had to give it a go and ever since it has acted as a fixed point through the highs and, especially, the lows of my live. I ended up on the same table as Andy in the Rose, did I tell him this? Don't be daft, it was far to early in the morning for that kind of thing

Keeping the ball bouncing for a second, one of the primary sources of preparation for LEL (and a large part of the inspiration for the write up) came from Els' LEL Blog. I remember reading her training plan on new years day, 2009 whilst Googling for advice, seeing three 200km rides in the first two months and thinking, "Damn. I need to find something to up my miles". Two weeks later, she mentioned the FNRttC. My training buddy broke his wrist coming off in the cold snap (whilst Els managed to ride The Poor Student, The Willy Warmer, Faccombe Haul, The Kennet Valley Run, etc) and I realised she was way ahead of us. I met her on the March FNRttC and though I didn't dare tell her (cycling super legend that she is) I borrowed heavily from her knowledge and experience, basically spending the night mining her head for advice. The detail she put into her Denmead 400 Ride Report became an instruction book for write ups.

I met her again on many FNRttCs thereafter, and had many opportunities, both early in the morning and late at night to mention her part in my story. Did I tell her this?

No.

 

[rb58]

I don't really know what to say. Except Thank You. Thank you for Friday. And thank you for all those Fridays. And Saturday mornings. And laughs. And breakfasts. And the silence before dawn. And Lonesome Lane. And for turning the insanity of an all night ride into normality and something that will be sorely missed. And a big Thank You to Simon for making it all possible. Like many of you, my life has been enriched by the experience, and the friendships made.

For me, it does feel a bit like the end of an era, which is a shame. But new chapters are fun too and I can't wait to see what we get up to in 2015 and beyond.

 

[ianrauk]

Keeping the ball bouncing for a second, one of the primary sources of preparation for LEL (and a large part of the inspiration for the write up) came from Els' LEL Blog. I remember reading her training plan on new years day, 2009 whilst Googling for advice, seeing three 200km rides in the first two months and thinking, "Damn. I need to find something to up my miles". Two weeks later, she mentioned the FNRttC. My training buddy broke his wrist coming off in the cold snap (whilst Els managed to ride The Poor Student, The Willy Warmer, Faccombe Haul, The Kennet Valley Run, etc) and I realised she was way ahead of us. I met her on the March FNRttC and though I didn't dare tell her (cycling super legend that she is) I borrowed heavily from her knowledge and experience, basically spending the night mining her head for advice. The detail she put into her Denmead 400 Ride Report became an instruction book for write ups.

I met her again on many FNRttCs thereafter, and had many opportunities, both early in the morning and late at night to mention her part in my story. Did I tell her this?

No.

And on a much shorter note... to balance things up.. If it wasn't for you Andy.. I wouldn't have started on my way to doing the mileage I do today. I suddenly went from 5-6000 miles a year (mostly commuting with a few 40-50 milers) to 10,000 miles a year since I started hanging on your back wheel on the SMRbtH's. We have done a heck of a lot of miles together over the years and the past year where we didn't was missed greatly. Riding to HPC with your self @Mista Preston for the first time in a very long age really bought home at how much cycling brings people together. Els is an inspiration to you as are you to me.

 

[User482]

I spent a good deal of the ride thinking about why FNRttC means so much to me, and I still can’t articulate it. I just know that it does. I’ve frozen my whatsits off on the way to Southend, near-drowned on the way to Whitstable, and slid down the road on the way to Emsworth. Every ride I’ve done has seen me fighting to stay awake at 4am, and being knackered for the rest of the weekend. By rights it should be one of those triumph-in-the-face-of-adversity things, yet it isn’t: I don’t look back on any of those rides in that, it’s not why I do them. Why do I do them? For reasons that defy any attempt at rational explanation, to nearly everyone who hasn’t done a FNRttC, it’s just an absolute blast, for what could be more pleasurable than riding a bike on quiet roads in the company of great people? Yet that’s not quite it, for I ride my bike on quiet roads in the company of great people plenty of other times, and those rides seem somehow to linger less in my memory. Maybe it’s the superficial absurdity of doing something that actually makes complete sense. Maybe I should stop over-analysing and just enjoy it.

All that remains for me to say is to join everyone else and say thank you to Simon, for making it happen.