Hmmm... I think my quality control was a little the worse for wear when I got in last night.
A very pleasant evening at the Cricketers in Danbury with Oaky and Chief initially, but after Chief was obliged to leave us, Tomsk appeared. We drunk the pub dry of both Autumn Red (yes, it's out already) and Spitfire, having to slum it with Master Brew for the final round.
There was one very frightening, and another very amusing, incident on the way in. The first was when some irresponsible twat overtook me at at least 40mph in a 30 limit whilst I was going through a new traffic calming pinch point and thought I had done enough to occupy the whole lane. I reckon he missed me by about 8 inches.
The adrenalin rush from this served me well in the second. There was some time trialling going on from East Hanningfield school, with most of the protagonists wearing "Essex Roads" tops. A woman with a p*nct*r* was just about to finish, walking back. I offered assistance, which she declined. As I passed the school another competitor appeared and disappeared rapidly into the distance and a few minutes later a chap overtook me on a slight climb, but he wasn't going a lot faster than I was, so I sat on his wheel.
At first he seemed to be having trouble selecting the right gear and I'm sure he was not aware that I was still there. The road flattened out, he looked over his shoulder, saw me and accelerated. So did I, we reached 20 mph and still he didn't shake me off. I surprised myself with the ease with which I stayed with him: he was a fairly lithe young chap, probably in his 20s, riding a Specialised something or other and I put my new-found power down to the adrenaline rush from the previous incident.
So his speed increased until we were both doing nearly 25 mph on the flat. I was due to turn right into Butts Green Road and when we reached the downhill a couple of hundred yards before that he did his best to leave me behind. The incredible thing was that I still had power in reserve and could have taken him on the downhill! I didn't have the heart, though. It's one thing to take the piss when Santa with Rohloff sits on your tail and you can't shake him off. It would have been totally ego-crushing for the poor chap if I'd actually gone past.
