It was a reduced peloton that carefully picked its way through the frozen roads of Mid-Essex to our other spiritual home. Jiber, Tippers, the Gear Whisperer and I did our best in the absence of any of the elders.
I arrived to find the other three whispering quietly in the corner. We had turned up on pub quiz night and there was a serious team next to us. Of course, a pint or so later and we were so loud they were having to ask for questions to be read out again
Unfortunately they still won. Mind you having listened to some of the questions, I think a team of trained ODs would have won.
We sampled Wibblers Apprentice, Colchester's Day of the Triffids and Ptipsy Ptarmingan. Apprentice took the Quaffers' Choice. We also had an excellent example of instant karma; Jiber and Tippers were their usual thirsty selves and were badgering the poor gear whisperer for their next ale before he had finished his current one. Thus it was that Jiber and Tippers ended up being first to take large mouthfuls of the Farmer's Ales Much Abrew About Nothing which was severely off. How the GW and I laughed
In between my homey Jibers and I annoying the GW with our cap japery, we also bored him rigid talking about fixed gear inches, fixed cranks, fixed mudguard arrangements, fixed frames... I am surprised he managed to stay awake.
Even with one for the road we were all too soon heading out the door into the open air freezer. My Garmin read -2 by this time so it was a swift pedal home.
