Desperate times call for desperate measures. With pubs that are barely open in the good months and a bit of a CBA malaise affecting our Wednesday night outings, it's time to pick up my pen again.
There's always a point some time in October when the weather suddenly turns and you remember what it's like to cycle in colder weather - but not this October. I left my offshore lair in a balmy 13 degrees and, had it not been for the headwind, would have had a champagne ride through the lanes to the Railway Tavern in Kelvedon for the opening EER meet of the season.
So pleasant was it that I even managed to arrive first. I was soon joined by the wandering Welsh wizard himself. Apparently the Strangler's nocturnal activities had been diminished while he was caught up in managing his north Essex estate after the untimely exit of the under-gardener in a bizarre lawn mowing accident. We hope to see more of him over the winter - where else can you get so much for £5 ! But hark, what's that wheezing noise in the corner ? Of course ! It's Captain Joshua Patten, clutching his sore ribs and looking very flushed for a man who has been blown to the pub by a warm tailwind. An expectant hush falls over our table, it's almost nine and surely time for the Famous Witham Peloton to make their entrance. A solitary headlight hoves into view, do we have a surprise guest or have the FWP deployed their signature "lone piper" advance party move ? It's neither. The Hustler has woken up on his sofa, realised he has missed the launch time and shot off to the pub alone. The clock ticks past the appointed hour but still we sit, expectant.
Suddenly, a burst of light sears across the sky accompanied by a whir of perfectly synchronised pedal strokes. It's Hotblack leading OD and Huggy in a classic diamond (or what would have been a diamond had their fourth member not fallen asleep on the sofa). With OD on board, the lateness of their arrival becomes clear. At last we are complete and the festivities can commence.
The conversation ranges across the usual topics; rotting animal carcasses, Huggy's new bike and the possible effects of inflationary fiscal drag on the UK's sovereign debt. It's the last Wednesday in a winter month so we are also treated to the customary powerpoint presentation by Hotblack. This month's offering is his attempt to promote the forthcoming not the French ride trip to France. Titled "My Alpine Misadventures", it is a thought-provoking summary of his descents from the high peaks at high speed. Who could fail to be inspired to follow in his tyre tracks upon those same roads when they think back to his one-wheeled crazed ride through the 21 hairpins of the Alpe.
The RT is a proper pub. It is also the start and finish point for the pearl (geddit !) in ACME's winter brevet series; The Kelvedon Oyster. What it doesn't have is a large selection to sample; Greene Ming IPA and a guest. From 4pm today there will be plenty to sample as they have a real ale festival starting Last night we could see the casks all laid out and could almost taste the goodness inside but had to make do with High Five by Trolley 5 and Ice Breaker by GK. Huggy likes Ice Breaker but fortunately is ineligble for the Quaffers Committee. In the absence of any other members, the Hustler and I co-opted the Strangler as our office junior for the evening, making us at least part-quorate. After deliberating carefully over the one beer we had sampled, we bestowed the prestigious Quaffers' Choice Award to High Five, while looking wistfully at the rows of casks at the far end of the pub.
We departed into the gloaming. With a thick autumn mist and the continual fogging of my glasses, it was a slightly surreal journey home. At times, all I could really see were swirls of grey rushing by me as I tried to pick out the lines of the road. Come the colder months, a warm ride home will seem like a distant memory.
