I fully expect Team Slow to return from the coronation BEER festival wrapped in bunting and singing an erudite and smutty version of the national anthem, and then get lapped by cycleman in the hill climb the next morning.
Meanwhile I'm trying to work out what I'm in the process of forgetting to pack. First camping trip of the year, and in a car, which means I can't work out what I've forgotten by the suspicious empty space. Bike shoes are too obvious, and we don't need the Official BHPC Jam-Filled Babbage-Engine or any extension leads for this one. I'm leaning towards trousers. Or some decent weather.