redfalo
known as Olaf in real life
- Location
- Brexit Boomtown
This was my first proper Friday Night Ride in a year, the previous one being Tim's April 2015 jaunt to Bognor, and it was big fun as always. The new starting point worked out really nicely and spared us a fair chunk of dodgy London traffic (although it lacked the thrill of cycling past some of the city's top sights right at the start).
It was good to see a lot of old hands but even better to spot quite a number of new faces.
For an April ride with a slightly iffy weather forecast, the overall turnout was impressive. Agree to previous comments at avoiding Erith was a big improvement. .
Due to the wet roads, I was expecting a busy night for our little TEC crew consisting of @Gordon P , @AKA Bob and me . Oddly enough, the first bit of the ride out of London and towards the halfway stop went absolutely swimmingly. Then we had the pleasure of making the company with a gentleman named Arthur. He had enjoyed a great night at a pub in Northfleet but, as he later told the paramedic, “one or two drinks too many”.
In fact @User and @User13710 had met him first, right after he fell over trying to walk home, smashed his face and glasses and lying on the pavement, bleeding rather heavily and unable to either move or talk. He was breathing after all, and eventually managed to sit up, using Adrian's and then Gordon's any my calves as backrest.
Titus attempt to call an ambulance resulted in an exhaustive discussion of most aspects of Arthur's personal health history with the NHS dispatcher, including the question if he was suffering from a cataract (most probably not).
After about 15 minutes, the NHS concluded that it will send an ambulance. At this point, Tim had rightly decided to get the group moving again, and everyone apart from the three TEC's left.
Arthur was meanwhile sobering up a bit and wanted to know if he may can stand up, point out to us – slightly angrily - that “its is farking wet here”. We happily escorted him to a nearby bus shelter.
At this stage, Arthur was able to roll himself a cigarette, which clearly improved his mood. Then a NHS car drove by, and Titus flagged it down professionally. It turned out that the paramedic wasn't despatched to us but was in the area by accident. Fortunately he took control over the situation anyway. After almost 40 minutes, we were eventually back on our bikes, racing to Strood via the A roads and even caught up with the bulk of the ride.
The half-way stop as brilliant as ever – the warm welcome by Tim's army of cake-makers and the lovely food were just fantastic. I found the minute of silence for Vernon very touching.
The second part of the ride was characterised by a fantastic run rise and a seemingly never-ending string of punctures (just four in fact) and slow progress. We made it to the waterfront by 8:50 am, and the rest – as they say – is all history.
I was feeling amazingly good at that time but buried all plans to ride back to Faversham or Rochester but just took the train back to London. Three hours of kip at home. Oddly enough, afterwards I was feeling much worse than before. Won't be a long night tonight...
Thanks to everyone for a great night out and looking forward to riding with you soon. And all the best to Arthur!
It was good to see a lot of old hands but even better to spot quite a number of new faces.
For an April ride with a slightly iffy weather forecast, the overall turnout was impressive. Agree to previous comments at avoiding Erith was a big improvement. .
Due to the wet roads, I was expecting a busy night for our little TEC crew consisting of @Gordon P , @AKA Bob and me . Oddly enough, the first bit of the ride out of London and towards the halfway stop went absolutely swimmingly. Then we had the pleasure of making the company with a gentleman named Arthur. He had enjoyed a great night at a pub in Northfleet but, as he later told the paramedic, “one or two drinks too many”.
In fact @User and @User13710 had met him first, right after he fell over trying to walk home, smashed his face and glasses and lying on the pavement, bleeding rather heavily and unable to either move or talk. He was breathing after all, and eventually managed to sit up, using Adrian's and then Gordon's any my calves as backrest.
Titus attempt to call an ambulance resulted in an exhaustive discussion of most aspects of Arthur's personal health history with the NHS dispatcher, including the question if he was suffering from a cataract (most probably not).
After about 15 minutes, the NHS concluded that it will send an ambulance. At this point, Tim had rightly decided to get the group moving again, and everyone apart from the three TEC's left.
Arthur was meanwhile sobering up a bit and wanted to know if he may can stand up, point out to us – slightly angrily - that “its is farking wet here”. We happily escorted him to a nearby bus shelter.
At this stage, Arthur was able to roll himself a cigarette, which clearly improved his mood. Then a NHS car drove by, and Titus flagged it down professionally. It turned out that the paramedic wasn't despatched to us but was in the area by accident. Fortunately he took control over the situation anyway. After almost 40 minutes, we were eventually back on our bikes, racing to Strood via the A roads and even caught up with the bulk of the ride.
The half-way stop as brilliant as ever – the warm welcome by Tim's army of cake-makers and the lovely food were just fantastic. I found the minute of silence for Vernon very touching.
The second part of the ride was characterised by a fantastic run rise and a seemingly never-ending string of punctures (just four in fact) and slow progress. We made it to the waterfront by 8:50 am, and the rest – as they say – is all history.
I was feeling amazingly good at that time but buried all plans to ride back to Faversham or Rochester but just took the train back to London. Three hours of kip at home. Oddly enough, afterwards I was feeling much worse than before. Won't be a long night tonight...
Thanks to everyone for a great night out and looking forward to riding with you soon. And all the best to Arthur!
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Chapeau for putting up with suburbia hell at the end of the ride to get the ton in, I decided to get the train from Victoria as I was in no mood to be arguing with Saturday traffic along the A24... 
I was up to just over 95 miles when we got the train at Rochester.
