I was running fashionably late as usual for the pre-Epiphany After Party festivities so I decided to intercept the famous Witham peloton en route. What I should have done was ride back along the actual route rather than the one I thought they would follow
I must have missed them by yards (or perhaps they saw me and hid).
Who knows what fun they enjoyed on their ride to the Chequers at Roxwell. For my part, I had a thoroughly pleasant trip over made all the more enjoyable when I found some COR leading from Chignal St James to the Roxwell Road. It was fairly rough going in parts and I picked up a huge thorn in my front tyre (no problem with tubeless but I didn't dare remove it until I got home yesterday).
I arrived at the Chequers to find Oaky and Mr and Mrs Bill Bailey standing around looking cold. Apparently they had turned left but the pub wasn't ready for them. We were soon admitted by the friendly landlord and the tasting began. The Chequers was offering Bishop Nick's Ridleys Rite and 1555. Both were in excellent order and, in fact, the Ridleys Rite was declared the Quaffers' Choice even before we sampled the delights of the Spiritual Home's offerings.
By the time the main peloton arrived, the fire was going well and we were warming up nicely.
Hotblack, the Hustler, the Strangler, Hernan Cortes, Nim (making a winter DIY 200 that bit harder by stopping with us for a few hours), Joergen, Sue, Martin, Fhoot, Bhoot, JenM, Stanners Kiwi and the two Stannettes, Psyclist, TCMR, Huggy's consort, Huggy junior, Mrs Jiber and Josser formed the remainder of the guests.
More importantly, the Musky Pelt of Destiny, as worn by NikNack, was there. Even more importantly, we had the uncivil partnership ceremony party of Tomsk (presiding), OD (Matron of dishonour), Huggy (best man) and the Happy Couple (Carlos and Jem).
Oaky declared early on that this was the time when high jinks and nonsense were to be tolerated, the dinner at the Spiritual Home being a more formal and sombre occasion. He was right about the first part at least.
The food all seemed to be good and even Joergen's complex dietary requirements seemed to be satisfied (summarised as lots of food but no mushrooms, green vegetables or salad but plenty of brown sauce and melted cheese).
You could feel the excitement in the room building towards the uncivil partnership ceremony.
Before we knew it, Tomsk was standing at the raised ceremony section and Bill Bailey was escorting Jem down the aisle while people tried to hum the wedding march. In front of Tomsk, a very nervous Carlos was being reassured by the ever-attentive Huggy and OD was doing something that he must have thought was helpful - if careening around in a pink wig making excited noises can ever be helpful. Tomsk led a lovely ceremony full of wise words, thoughtful counsel and stuff about Kebabs and bike cleaning. Josser and I are still researching whether or not Tomsk has the actual powers vested in him to make the ceremony legal, our current view is a tentative yes.
I wasn't party to OD's meticulous planning of this event so I can only assume that he was concerned about filling in the time gap between the end of the ceremony and the pub's regulars banging on the door at 5pm while they waited for the pub to re-open when he asked Psyclist if he could run a four hour pub quiz marathon. If that was the brief then it was fulfilled to perfection. No sooner had Psyclist started the final round of his Pointless-inspired head to head finale than the landlord was begging us to leave so that he could let the unhappy regulars in through the door. What the quiz lacked in brevity it made up for in the window to the world that is Psyclist's music collection. If Middle of the Road has a centreline then Psyclist's eight track tape deck is perched right on top of that line. I am not saying the music round, the 11 rounds we had on things that happened in the '70s or the specialist rounds on Rising Damp and on the life of Phil Collins had anything to do with the fact that the two teams in the final had the oldest average age but I will leave you to draw your own conclusions.
Imagine my surprise when we left the pub and the peloton turned on to the very COR that I had found on the way there. Not only that but we managed to go down the private bit necessitating scaling a five bar gate to rejoin the actual right of way. Fortunately there were just enough of us to lift Fred over the gate after removing a couple of panniers (OD had brought full panniers to keep up the pretence that he had ever intended to camp).
The arrival at the Spiritual Home always marks an important point in the pre-Epiphany After Party festivities for it is at that point that we find out who is taking it seriously. The most serious group are the overnight campers. Slightly less serious but nevertheless committed are the overnight B&B stayers. While the campers are trying to tie their bow ties in a dark tent, the other overnighters are taking a second shower just because they can. Meanwhile everyone else is tucking into their Huffers and wondering why it is taking the serious people so long. The outlier to these groupings is Joergen who has a team car that allows him to attend events, take full advantage of everything on offer and then go back to his own bed.
This year's campers were myself, Oaky and the Strangler. The other overnighters were Mr and Mrs Bailey, the Happy Couple and OD who seemed not to need those panniers full of camping equipment after all.
The highlight of this part of the evening is normally the presentation of The Trophy but this year we had the cake cutting and the first dance to enjoy as well. The Trophy itself was awarded to Jem who in another step forward for MEMWNS diversity becomes only the second ex-colonial to win it.
As I said earlier, I was not involved in OD's meticulous planning of this event so I can only imagine what was going through his demented mind when Oaky said "I've got a good idea for the pre-Epiphany After Party dinner musical interlude". What clearly wasn't going through his mind but should have been was "must resist at all costs". Thus it was that a packet of Kazoos was distributed amongst our merry throng and that OD conducted the group through a range of numbers. Each of them had precise cues as to when the kazoo playing should begin and OD had further instructions on pitch, loudness and tempo but within one bar they all sounded like the same cacophony of random feedback. It was only by grace of the fact that Josser was heartily joining in that we weren't asked to leave immediately. As it was, our end of the bar was soon cleared.
That was enough for everyone. That is for everyone except the Kazoo Two. Oaky and Joergen stockpiled as many kazoos as they could find and treated us to what seemed like a fortnight of trying to play Nellie the Elephant in the style of a tone deaf person who had never heard the song before. Whenever Mrs Jiber approached Joergen and demanded that he hand over his kazoo, he would look slightly abashed before grinning like a naughty schoolboy and dragging another one out of his male stripper ensemble. We always lose the less-dedicated attendees at some point after dinner but never so early as this time. Those of us who suffered the full Kazoo Two experience will probably be exonerated from all charges when we explain to the judge why it was that we rammed a kazoo up some poor unsuspecting person's backside.
In our usual transition, Oaky and I moved on to fine wine after the Loyal Toast but not until after sampling Wibblers' Spiced Porter. A porter that tastes of cloves and cold mulled wine might be just the ticket on a cold winter's evening after they have finished whatever it is that people with no sense of taste or smell get up to but not so much after a long day on beer and bikes.
With the departure of the last of the amateurs and with the Baileys and OD taking an early night (possibly separately), it was time for the real purpose of the day to begin - the Epiphany After Party. This year Oaky and I had given strict instructions - dress to impress and PBAB. Clearly the Happy Couple and the Strangler consider themselves above trifles like rules but they were made welcome nevertheless. Mrs Jiber thoughtfully provided what were apparently high tech warming solutions with authentic ethnic colourways and not foil backed tartan travel blankets as I had thought so we were nice and cosy as we sat down and commenced our champagne sampling. This year's entries came from Aldi, Lidl and Tesco and all three were excellent. The tasting was helped considerably by Oaky's choice of plastic coupes - last year's glass flutes had proved particularly challenging when they started sliding off the frozen table top. The centrepiece of the After Party is always the stereo joke. We only just managed it this year before Oaky lost the power of speech and became reduced to the odd squeak on his kazoo. Beyond those snippets I can say no more, the first rule of the After Party is that we never talk about the After Party. Actually, that is the third rule behind the dress code and not "forgetting" to bring a bottle. Actually it is at least the fifth rule with don't fall backwards off the picnic table and no farting if it can be detected in an outdoor environment coming ahead of it as well.
After a mild night under canvas, it was time for the most serious part of the whole event - the brew off. I am sorry to relate that this year's event was marred by series of atrocities the likes of which I hope never to see repeated. For starters, I distinctly heard the removal of Oaky's Trangia strap when he retired to bed in clear contravention of rule 6.4(iii). That was nothing compared to the Strangler though. I still find it hard to believe much less talk about but he used a gas-powered MSR stove to make his tea. As if that wasn't bad enough, he didn't even make tea, he made some sort of hot fruit thing that meant leaving a bag of coloured leaves in the water as he boiled it. The final straw was down to my own school boy error. Everybody knows that you never leave your stove unattended during a brew off. It should have been no surprise therefore when I returned from a quick comfort break to find my stove no longer lit and Oaky standing by whistling innocently. Our kettles still boiled at the same time so I declared it a dishonourable draw - the Strangler having been disqualified on several grounds already.
Thank you to OD, his quizmaster, the Happy Couple, the Musky Pelt and everyone else who made it such fun. I except the Kazoo Two from any gratitude or praise, may their Kazoos burn in the big fire.