For me, that was one of my absolute favorite FNRttCs
ever.Liz and I had prepared for a really cold one and we were both wearing fluffy roubaix bib longs and our padded winter jackets. As it was, the coldest thing about the ride was Martin's impromptu chemistry lesson at HPC - I shudder to think what Her Majesty's constabulary would have thought if they'd have happened upon the scene...
Fewer than twenty of us made for a lovely tight little group and after we set off from Clapham Common (so sorry you had to pack, JT) we absolutely
flew down to Gatwick. Now that we're nicely comfortable on the new tandem, Liz and I managed a PB of 70.8kph down Reigate Hill and despite being a bit out of condition, I don't think we were too shoddy on the ups either.
There were some magnificent lights on display, including Adrian's new IQ Cyo. I wish mine would hurry up and come because that thing is just
awesome. We can navigate in the pitch black at silly speeds with the Solidlights, but when Adrian shimmied up behind us, it was like some unseen hand had flicked on the stadium flood lights and it was game time.
Mind you - have you seen Adrian's home-built SON wheel? I'm not sure I'd be so comfortable with missing out every other spoke...
The highly trained baristas at Costalottacoffee were as eager as ever to get us all served as quickly as possible
* and it was lovely to see the very dashing Tourist Tony, resplendent in his uniform at the airport. Sadly and yet again, I wasn't allowed to ride Josephine on the the travelator, so we had to walk to the exit and slip off into the night.
Still quite mild, we made incredible time as the pace was wound up faster and faster. Layers were removed and foreheads mopped on the way south and up Turner's Hill. We made Ditchling before dawn (first time we've done that in a while) and at the greenhouses there was a welcome mixture of chocolate, flasks of rum-laced coffee and
al fresco micturition.
Ditchling Beacon itself was harder than I remember, but oh so worth it because, as Liz said - we managed to set off the speed camera on the way down Ditchling Road into Brighton...
We are bad, bad cyclists
Then there was tea, breakfast and a train home. What better way could there be to spend a Friday night?
*Statement may contain lies or traces of lies...