StuAff
Silencing his legs regularly
- Location
- Portsmouth
Also my beer of choice (in a stew) over the border in Belgium....
England : East Sussex Hastings to the Sea, Saturday 4 May 2019
- Thread starter theclaud
- Start date
Page may contain affiliate links. Please see terms for details.
StuAff
Silencing his legs regularly
- Location
- Portsmouth
All a bit League of Gentlemen. [/pedantry]There's no such thing as a Royal Mail old style phone box. BT was spun out from the former PO (GPO before that) in 1981, and those boxes predate that [/pedantry].
Salty seadog
Space Cadet...(3rd Class...)
StuAff
Silencing his legs regularly
- Location
- Portsmouth
Certainly is.....
It is, but the tag is futile.
Salty seadog
Space Cadet...(3rd Class...)
Yep, gone but will ride together again.
I can give you the email of one of the editors...
GrumpyGregry
Here for rides.
Proof, if proof were needed, that the Kent & East Sussex wail way bike is still over geared. Even with a 38T chainring.
Still it is an (expensive) online retail opportunity and easy (if costly) to address. 36T or 34T that is the question...
Still it is an (expensive) online retail opportunity and easy (if costly) to address. 36T or 34T that is the question...
GrumpyGregry
Here for rides.
In other news; I remain convinced by 1 by transmission, I remain to be convinced that SRAM double tap shifting is the best way to consume it.
The tolerance between being able to select lowest gear and not is a hairs breadth on a stop screw and Saturday proved that can "go off" during a ride. I got cramp in my right hand on the last long climb into Heathfield holding the shifter in place so it wouldn't drop to the second sprocket.
The indexing was fixed in Waitrose with the standards 1/4 turn of the mech adjuster. Cable stretch/shift is probs to blame for both ailments.
Oh, and the freehub body needs replacing.
The tolerance between being able to select lowest gear and not is a hairs breadth on a stop screw and Saturday proved that can "go off" during a ride. I got cramp in my right hand on the last long climb into Heathfield holding the shifter in place so it wouldn't drop to the second sprocket.
The indexing was fixed in Waitrose with the standards 1/4 turn of the mech adjuster. Cable stretch/shift is probs to blame for both ailments.
Oh, and the freehub body needs replacing.
Shadow
member
- Location
- edge of the south downs
South of the station down to the front and along the promenade, every bar was teeming with teenagers (ok, some may have been in the 20-24 bracket) who were seriously inebriated and would not make it to closing time without passing out.
Painted faces, torn fishnets, tinnies galore, falling over, short skirts and no knickers - all observed. Most thought they had the right to meander/stagger along the bike path on the prom in the face of oncoming bicycles.
And this is the town you are contemplating retiring to?!
Last edited:
rb58
Enigma
- Location
- Bexley, Kent
He’ll fit right in.
Salty seadog
Space Cadet...(3rd Class...)
with a twist of his tasch and a monicled wink he was gone.....
Shadow
member
- Location
- edge of the south downs
The first saturday of May is usually a glorious day in southern england, so a good day for a ride to the sea. This was no exception altho it was a close run thing at times.
We warmed up by zigzagging up, up and up to a grassy area overlooking the town and the sea. Through Sedlescombe, whizzing by a chapel and an ex-chapel on superbly smooth, newly laid tarmac; passing vineyards - buds just shooting; over the River Rother - sign by the bridge 'Cyclists use this road' (?!?!) - to Bodiam and its castle and handily located conveniences. Up and down, up and down and up to Brightling, Mad Jack's pyramid, observatory and obelisk. Down lovely Kings Hill Road, which I've only ascended before - wide, winding, good visibility, good surface, chasing but never catching Ross in the distance. Up into Burwash, past the local poet sitting on a bench and into the Bear for well-proportioned victuals, including our leader's infamous blueberry fortune muffins. Onto Heathfield, along the Cuckoo Trail following the axed Cuckoo Line, folk strolling with their laissez-faire canines, the canopy providing unneeded shade, keeping us on the cool side of cool. Down onto the appropriately named Pevensy Levels, flat marshy farmland and the sometime home of the Fen Raft Spider. Crossing the A259, to Normans Bay, over the tracks to Cooden Beach, passing Bexhill's de La Warr pavillion - seen better from sea side rather than drab road side - and the rectangular brick boxes of retirement flats, back towards our starting point along Hastings' prom, cluttered with smashed yoof.
Early may is glorious along country lanes for views of the lush green grass, juxtaposed against fields of brilliantly bright rape flower and blue sky, trees in full flush of tender leaves, hazel copses engorged with bluebells, shady verges and patches of wild garlic and vibrant, aromatic lilac hanging over garden walls.
A joy of CC rides in general and Uncle Sam's in particular is the erudition of our bijou bunch. Differences of alpacas vs llamas vs vicunas, discussion of Anabaptists and their ilk, current or previous homes of Mssrs A Burgess, R Daltrey, R Smith, T Jones and E Humperdink (shared until a huge spat), and the America Ground, an area in central Hastings settled by squatters declared independent of the local authority. I missed the gypsum mine and conveyor, must pay more attention next time.
Others have commented on the variable weather. I would add that riding towards town with a vast, inky dark sky with a rainbow tail, watching it slide into the Channel was a welcome sight, any earlier and we would have been soaked.
The remainers found possibly the only adult bar in town, serving Belgian beer. When in a place called Tintins, trying the draught Captain Haddock had to be done - my mistake. The white Chimay was a vast improvement.
Thanks to Uncle Sam and Auntie Claud for organisation, to Adrian, Greg, Ross and after lunch, Andrew for company. A glorious ride.
We warmed up by zigzagging up, up and up to a grassy area overlooking the town and the sea. Through Sedlescombe, whizzing by a chapel and an ex-chapel on superbly smooth, newly laid tarmac; passing vineyards - buds just shooting; over the River Rother - sign by the bridge 'Cyclists use this road' (?!?!) - to Bodiam and its castle and handily located conveniences. Up and down, up and down and up to Brightling, Mad Jack's pyramid, observatory and obelisk. Down lovely Kings Hill Road, which I've only ascended before - wide, winding, good visibility, good surface, chasing but never catching Ross in the distance. Up into Burwash, past the local poet sitting on a bench and into the Bear for well-proportioned victuals, including our leader's infamous blueberry fortune muffins. Onto Heathfield, along the Cuckoo Trail following the axed Cuckoo Line, folk strolling with their laissez-faire canines, the canopy providing unneeded shade, keeping us on the cool side of cool. Down onto the appropriately named Pevensy Levels, flat marshy farmland and the sometime home of the Fen Raft Spider. Crossing the A259, to Normans Bay, over the tracks to Cooden Beach, passing Bexhill's de La Warr pavillion - seen better from sea side rather than drab road side - and the rectangular brick boxes of retirement flats, back towards our starting point along Hastings' prom, cluttered with smashed yoof.
Early may is glorious along country lanes for views of the lush green grass, juxtaposed against fields of brilliantly bright rape flower and blue sky, trees in full flush of tender leaves, hazel copses engorged with bluebells, shady verges and patches of wild garlic and vibrant, aromatic lilac hanging over garden walls.
A joy of CC rides in general and Uncle Sam's in particular is the erudition of our bijou bunch. Differences of alpacas vs llamas vs vicunas, discussion of Anabaptists and their ilk, current or previous homes of Mssrs A Burgess, R Daltrey, R Smith, T Jones and E Humperdink (shared until a huge spat), and the America Ground, an area in central Hastings settled by squatters declared independent of the local authority. I missed the gypsum mine and conveyor, must pay more attention next time.
Others have commented on the variable weather. I would add that riding towards town with a vast, inky dark sky with a rainbow tail, watching it slide into the Channel was a welcome sight, any earlier and we would have been soaked.
The remainers found possibly the only adult bar in town, serving Belgian beer. When in a place called Tintins, trying the draught Captain Haddock had to be done - my mistake. The white Chimay was a vast improvement.
Thanks to Uncle Sam and Auntie Claud for organisation, to Adrian, Greg, Ross and after lunch, Andrew for company. A glorious ride.
