What started out as hues of uninspiring grey, gradually improved by lunchtime, and by the time we’d shed the last of the badlands of Sittingbourne, the final twenty or so miles of this ride were conducted under azure blue skies with the falling sun casting long, mottled shadows through pollarded poplars across the lanes which were our path. I cannot fault that.
Eight of us left Cutty Sark Gardens not much before 09:00. Nice to see an unexpected appearance from His Leggship who accompanied us for part of the ride. A short wait at Greenhithe Asda swelled our numbers to ten following Wow and Adam having hitched themselves a lift over the Dartford Crossing.
The first lumpy parts of this ride, as we descended and ascended into Northfleet, saw two of our participants fall prey to unrelated mechanicals which caused their driven wheels to stop. Half an hour or so passed and mass intervention by Tim Hall, His Leggship and Adam saw to it that Mice and Andrij were on their way™ and able to continue with the ride. Shortly thereafter His Leggship bade us farewell as we headed towards lunch in Rochester.
Andy’s Snacks delivered lunch in a wholesome fashion as is usual. With Kieron, the proprietor, being as hospitable as ever. By the time we left, an hour or so later, the first bits of blue were starting to show themselves in the sky, and increasingly stayed with us for the remainder of the day.
A little route improvisation was called for as we left Chatham on account of JCBs having made Globe Lane mostly disappear. Three or four miles later we ditched the dual carriageways and were once again back on traffic-lite country lanes. By the time we reached Boxted Lane, to the east of Upchurch, the sun had made its presence felt to the extent that a stop was called for, to enable layers to be peeled off, and legs to be exposed.
The gruntiest hill of this ride (Oak Hill – just before Sittingbourne) was tackled with aplomb by all following which, (after Sittingbourne) the ride became replete with sublime panoramas, and nothing much other than soaking up the scenery to bother any rider.
The facefull of unidentified liquid I was the recipient of, and the thrown bottle Butterfly received from the occupants of an oncoming car, as we crossed Graveney Marshes, will not in any way diminish or mar the pleasure I and, I think, all others had from this ride. The occupants of said car will go to hell. With poo on their heads.
Final refreshments were had at The Whitstable Waterfront Club, where Faye (the manageress) came over to exchange pleasantries. Shortly thereafter, I believe there was something of a sprint to catch the 17.39 to Victoria. My understanding is the train was caught by all with (not many) minutes to spare. For my part, I stayed in Whitstable overnight.
This morning I set out to ride back. A stiff breeze made itself known as I crossed the marshes at Seasalter. I reached The Sportsman, turned the corner and WALLOP! It was as if I’d hit a brick wall of headwind. I struggled to get the MPHs into double figures as I made my way towards Faversham. There was no way I was going to attempt the ride back to Londres in this headwind!
Southeastern Train Operating Company got my money. My bike and I got a ride on one of their trains.
Thanks to the OP for looking for a ride – I hope all who came enjoyed it as much as I did. Given the time of year and evolving countryside, it’ll not be too long before I’m heading down this way again.
Washing machine is currently removing The Skog of Kent from the Lycra. Wish I had a machine for doing the same for the bike.
