It was a much better night than the Met Office would have us believe, given that they were forecasting plenty of rain in the Cambridge area from 10pm to about 1 am but we had none of it. The very select band of three left the station around 10.15 and headed for Pizza Express, which was surprisingly empty. We took a window seat, within inches of the bikes, and adjacent to a couple of secondary school teachers who were complaining in equal measures about their Year 9s and Michael Gove. As we were leaving I wished them luck in keeping the worst excesses of Michael Gove at bay and one of them gave me a hug.
For once the Garmin was right and we should have turned left towards the station in order to access the cycle route, as going straight on leads to a bridge over the path with no obvious access. After a bit of faffing on blind alleys, we found the route again near Addenbrooks Hospital and then followed the runway lights alongside it. Somewhere near Hinxton we were riding on the road and some oiks behind shouted at us because we weren't on the cycle path. They were given shrift, and it was short.
It was very quiet and not at all hilly. There was a ford across the Cam which made Nutty's Slime Bottom look quite appealing and not particularly slimy, and none of us had any inclination to ride our bicycles through it, given that there was a perfectly serviceable footbridge nearby. We joined the main road a little before Saffron Walden and just before we arrived at the really nice downhill bit a police car, blue lights flashing, started to follow us closely. He overtook and stopped a little way ahead and I felt that we were about to have to justify our existence, even though the last time I was there Uttlesford Council were not operating a curfew. He then sped off into the town centre where there was a throng of not-angels spilling out onto the pavement from one of the late-night bars.
After Saffron Walden this ride gets a little bit hilly and we climbed up past the pub that used to be the Crocus and now called The Tesco Express, which strikes me as an odd name for a pub. From there we had plenty of ascents and descents. We had just arrived in Debden when the Village Hedgehog strolled out into the middle of the road. I shoed him back to the edge, whereupon he had trouble with a low wall, which he skirted, before disappearing into someone's garden.
Thaxted was beautiful as ever, but seeing the church spire lit from below as we approached from the Chelmer Valley (for much of the time this ride follows the Chelmer fairly closely) was almost eery. We noted the Guildhall and Gustav Holst's house and then made for the minor roads towards Tilty. They were in, mostly, very good condition, especially compared to those around Debden, where there was an occasional crater with a rim of orange paint, although at one point there was a good deal of surface deposit which gave Rebecca's back wheel a bit of trouble, but it wasn't long before we emerged into Dunmow, waved at what I thought was Tomsk's house and then cycled for what seemed an age to the all-night Tesco. I produced a flask of coffee, Rebecca helped herself to a Costa mug, we tucked into our purchases and used the facilities and when we emerged around 4.15 there was a hint of daylight in the sly, not to be confused with the sullen orange glow which had been in evidence ever since we had left streetlit Cambridge. The dawn chorus had also started. It seemed to me from that small sample that the concern currently being expressed in certain circles that the song thrush is in decline is misplaced.
After Dunmow the roads flatten out again and there were some lovely stretches where we were able to keep up quite decent speeds. At one point we saw an owl and then in quick succession another. I think they were a pair of barn owls, but in the almost-light some 20 minutes before dawn I wasn't sure. As we approached Chelmsford I offered the option of the City Centre or a more rural route involving Lower Stock Road. Adam opted for the latter, so we turned right in Admiral's Park towards Writtle and then headed for Margaretting Tye. Swan Lane was its normal grinding climb, but is in many ways superior to Lower Stock Road because the views are better. It also has gravity-drawn ale at the White Hart, whereas the Three Compasses merely has signs telling cyclists not to leave their steeds on the patio. Neither of these were of any concern to the early morning velopedestrian so we made for Middlemead, Chalk Street, Hoe Lane and Battlesbridge. Again I offered the option of the slightly shorter urban route, but rural won again, so we followed the Crouch Valley through Hullbridge and Ashingdon before taking the Doggetts Farm lane.
Even at 8.30 in the morning, Sutton Road is full of idiot drivers and the final two miles to the Grotto were full of revving engines and close overtaking. We made it through the front door at 8.40 and I put the kettle on, closely followed by the bacon, sausage, egg and mushrooms.
