The Windmill Cycle Club

When I heard this ride was from The Maypole at Thaxted, my first thoughts concerned parking. Those thoughts were summed up by a picture in the pub.

However it turned out to be easy to park on Bardfield Road. Here I found Alan with his new car. Very nice. And Ken with his non-functional electric bike. Not so nice. After much fiddling Ken’s only alternative was a short walk to the pub to say hello and then to return home again. Bad luck, Ken. Don’t think of this as failure. It could be that ‘“… your purpose that day was to serve as a warning to others.” (aka Pot-shots cartoon)

Paul had designed a lovely route with miles of quiet road, which were used so infrequently they had gravel down the middle. We usually define grass down the middle as perfect, but with this weather it was too much to ask.

Group 1: Rick, Victor, Paul, Tom, Maurice and myself. Group 2: Rod, Geoff, Keith, Howard, Alan. With the start being close to home I thought it might have been more, but its holiday season I guess. Really nice weather for riding though.

Coffee was at The Booking Hall on Flitch Way, formerly the Braintree to Bishops Stortford, line curtesy of Dr Beeching. Of course this name is synonymous with railway cuts, but that was no sin. The sin was to have no plan, no mention even in the report, of what the ‘redundant’ land was to be used for. My opinion is that many of the UK’s deepest problems go back to land, who owns it and what tax they pay. Still that’s for another day and for people to try and continue to distract us by talking about issues around trade I suppose.

Still we are not too serous, especially during breaks. So we occupied ourselves with important club traditions. Like Andrew and myself taking over all the toys, much to the amusement of more ‘grown up’ guests.

That’s what breaks are for, when you get tired of being grown up.

I did notice a construction which could be used at the back of the saddle of a very fat cyclist. Lesson here, eat less cake.

Return to the pub was uneventful, despite Andrew’s dire safety warnings. I opted to just go as fast as possible on that little bit of fast road back into Thaxted. That’s best thing isn’t it ? Get out of the way as soon as possible.

The food is excellent at the Maypole. The staff are friendly, but I don’t fancy her. Do you?

I was happy to sit outside in the increasingly intense sunshine with a beer admiring Andrew’s knowledge of the aircraft flying into Stanstead and the art in the pub garden.

We have a good deal to be grateful for. Not least of which was a great route from Paul and beer from Victor who received a (very) late rendition of Happy Birthday in return for his generosity. Victor has also constructed a very swanky looking list of old routes on the club website. All that’s necessary for organizing a route is to pinch one and ring up the pub/cafe. It should be an absolute goldmine for future routes.

Needless to say we haven’t forgotten those excused from this weeks ride with problems (health, grandchildren, bike problems, combination of aforementioned things) aka Martin, Charles, Nigel. We expect you all to report for action very soon. No excuses.

So that’s it. Thank you all for your various contributions, not forgetting both Mondays and Thursdays. A vintage year in the making considering all the changes happening to the club.

Does anyone remember Hot Rod racing on ITV’s World of Sport, back in the olden days ? Huge, powerful motorised monstrosities setting off at break neck speed to the accompaniment of an ear shattering din and, no doubt, the stench of nitro boosted fuel.

Meanwhile, last Thursday, ‘Hot’ Rod’s ‘Magnificent’ 7 saddled up their push bikes and e bikes and sedately trundled off from Therfield as a single group. Gentle conversation was all that was heard accompanied by a faint aroma of Factor 50 sun tan cream.

Some background here: ‘Hot’ Rod because – yes – it was very hot. ‘Magnificent’ 7 because, despite discretion being the better part of valour, 7 riders had decided to brave the heat for this Windmill ride. As a concession, Rod had planned a flat route shortened to 44km (27 miles or so) with the promise of a discretionary additional ice cream stop.

One personal takeaway from this ride: Never ask a man with an e bike whether a ride is “flat”. Instead, disconnect his battery and then ask whether the ride is “flat”. This ride was NOT flat. Lesson learnt.

The ‘flat’ ascent to Sandon and ‘Animal Farm’ was followed by the even flatter ascent to Wallington (one time home of George Orwell, although Animal Farm wasn’t written there).

A fast descent took us down to the gravel track over the A505 into Baldock. Here we had the debate between ice cream now, before the biggest ‘flat’ hill of the day to Weston OR get the biggest ‘flat’ hill of the day to Weston out of the way first. In the end, we opted to get the hill out of the way first before it got too hot followed, by a trip to Weston village stores and much deserved ice cream.

Reluctant to set off again, there was a prolonged discussion on the merits of the forthcoming candidates for Clacton, with Count Bin Face’s clear and articulate policies being particularly appreciated.

A few ups and downs but only one significant flat hill before the official stop at Ardeley where the traditional Cappuchinos and Hot Chocolates were substituted by ice cream and iced coffee.

From here it was a mostly flat ride back to Therfield although by now, the air temperature was soaring and perspiration flowed.

Back at the Fox and Duck, it turned out Deborah was in the chair for Birthday Beers ! Happy birthday. No doubt lured into their air conditioned cars by the thought of this free beer, the riders were greeted by 4 other Windmillers already at the bar when we arrived.

Thanks (?) Rod for organising and Deborah for the much needed refreshment. Thanks also to Martin for taking all he photos and appearing in none of them.

Riders: Deborah, Rod, Geoff, Martin, Keith, Paul, Graham
Pub only: Maurice, Brian, Ken, Gareth

We assembled at The Three Horseshoes, Helions Bumpstead. The French brigade were missing, but 11 riders were ready to go.  Brian had organised the ride and group 1 consisted of Brian, Howard, Paul, Victor, myself and Maurice.

We proceeded to Finchingfield in ideal cycling conditions and arranged for the usual photos. Group 2 consisted of Graham, Deborah, Rick, Geoff, Charles.

We stopped to admire the unusual round spire of St. Peter and St. Paul in Saling. Apparently this church is full of graffiti from 1556. Not much has changed over the years; carved initials for posterity, piss-takes of authority figures and idle doodling. A fine tradition always followed by the English when they have spare time. I think that’s why we have avoided dictators and revolutions. We just can’t take it all seriously.

Of course we have great respect for national monuments, but sometimes they just feel so good under-foot. And so it proved with the ‘ancient glacial erratic boulder of weathered sandy limestone’ located outside the church.

Coffee was at Andrews airfield where Brian had recently had a ‘flying experience’ sponsored by his children. Which reminds me I must copy my son into this blog.

Andrews airfield was built by US engineers starting in July 1942 and finishing in March 1943. It was redundant by 1945 with the planes moving to Europe following the allied advance.

Its most famous resident was an aircraft called ‘Flak-Bait’ which did a record number of sorties and participated in June 6th 1944 D-day landings. It is now preserved in the Smithsonian museum.

After 202 missions it has over 1000 holes in it from Flak. Its hard to imagine sitting in a Perspex canopy in this situation but first-hand accounts are available.

Worrying and quite bad for the upholstery I suppose.

Some of the posters however were in a lighter vein.

Another highlight was an extensive off-road section from Stebbing northwards back towards Great Barfield. It consisted of hard-packed road planings including at least two cats-eyes amongst the rubble.

Back at the pub we were all treated to a drink by Geoff who was celebrating, if that’s the right term, a significant birthday.

He looks rather well on it I think.

It was a glorious day by this point and after the usual singing we settled down to make the most of it.

And why wouldn’t we? Another great day out. Thanks to Brian, Geoff and all the other contributors to our club. Onwards and upwards.

Last week’s forecast had been bad enough, deterring many folk from availing themselves of free birthday beers. This week’s forecast was even worse and so correspondingly fewer riders ventured out on Martin W’s rural Essex tour. In fact, only six riders donned their rain outfits and ventured out from Chequers at Matching Green for a visit to the top secret nuclear bunker at Kelvedon Hatch.

To begin with, the rain held off, by and large, as Martin’s ‘flat’ ride took us over Toot Hill and Ladys Hill with their splendid views of the surrounding countryside. Finally we arrived at Kelvedon Hatch and its ‘secret bunker’ from the cold war era, now a tourist destination with an honesty box café and gift shop.

Martin had arranged for us to gain entry through the quiet back gate where we arrived at the original bungalow beneath which the bunker had been built. We had to backtrack a bit to find the café entrance through a narrow tunnel.

There was not enough time to take the official tour, but there was plenty of information on hand from Charles who had worked with the logistics of this site (amongst his many other roles). One of five similar facilities alongside the main government and MoD centres, apparently.

The bunker was built in the early 1950s, initially as an RAF radar station but from the late 1950s and early 1960s it served as one of Britain’s potential emergency regional government HQs, and the MoD (Charles) kept the bunker in working condition for a good three decades.

In the early 1990s, however, the Kelvedon Hatch bunker was decommissioned. The property was handed back to the original landowners and it has since been turned into the present museum.

On emerging through the entrance tunnel, we were reminded of why there were only six riders out today. It was rainy and not particularly warm ! With all layers on, it was heads down survival riding back to the pub. Temporary chaos ensued in the men’s toilet as wet layers were discarded in favour of dry clothes.

Thankfully for the rest of the clientele, no one need to use the loo at that point. Also thankfully for them we had been seated about as far from the other customers as was possible and so the traditional off key “Happy Birthday, dear Alan” didn’t disturb anyone. A well earned lunch and birthday beer.

Martin, Rod, Nigel, Alan, Graham, Charles. Paul joined in the bunker stop.

The Crown in Little Walden is a phenomenally popular destination for drinkers and diners alike, with its charming interior, fine gravity fed cask ales and good hearty food. With this in mind, Ken had booked us in months in advance for his Birthday ride and beers (and, incidentally, making it a hat trick of rides from Butchers Hill residents in the past 3 weeks !).

Hadstock common, a relatively elevated area of land to the North of Saffron Walden is, today, a quiet area of woodland and farmland. It is home to a model plane flying field and a pleasant science research park which has grown up around the 1840 mansion house. It must have been very different when it was home to the USAF Eigth Airforce and 3,000 personnel during WW2 !

From a road cyclist’s perspective, the common is a bit of a route planning problem, with circular rides often having to traverse the busy Saffron Walden town centre. Not this week, though ! Ken had negotiated passage through the private grounds of the research park, past the old mansion house with its fantastic views out to rolling countryside to the West.

And so it was 13 lucky riders set off up the quiet road to the back of the research park, where the barriers were duly raised, and sailed on through down to Little Chesterford. Here we had to negotiate our first set of road closures before splitting into more manageable sized groups before a short stretch on the old London Road.

A feature of this ride was a tour of some of the sharper hills in the local area, the one from Littlebury to Littlebury Green being the first on and the one up to Duddenhoe End being another. Then the one out of Newport before finally a well earned coffee stop at Blossom’s Tea Rooms.

More closed roads to negotiate before finally the last climb out of Hadstock (home of St Botolph’s and reputedly the oldest working wooden door in England) up to the common and down to the Crown for lunch.

Fine food and beer and a somewhat muted rendition of “Happy Birthday” on a crowded pub patio. Thanks Ken and thanks for a great, if spiky, route.

Possibly due to the absence of Charles and despite a request to “stop and admire the scenery and buildings”, after one group went from 3 to 1 last week – there appears to be only one photo for the blog from the peloton today ! sorry

Rod, Andrew, Paul, Victor, Geoff, Howard, Alan, Ric, Robert, Deborah, Graham, Simon and Ken. Maurice for lunch.

Fifteen Windmillers gathered at The Cock in Henham on a nice warm day to hear birthday boy Graham’s safety briefing before a ride to the Blue Egg café and back, in three groups of five – at least that was the plan. He didn’t mention ear defenders whilst we crossed the line of planes approaching Stansted Airport, the main focus once again being on avoiding potholes. Just think of how many potholes could have been filled had successive governments not made such a hash of HS2, now reckoned to cost more than the Artemis mission to the Moon. Cut the crap and get on with the blog I hear you say……

So three groups of five set off, (or was it one of six, one of five and one of four, I’m not sure?). All I know is that I was in Group 2 and happily stayed there the whole time with Geoff, Paul, Deborah and Ric as companions, and eventually Ken. No, hang on, I think Ric eventually joined up with Group 3… The route took us firstly to Thaxted via some very pleasant lanes and then through to Little Bardfield and Great Bardfield, home of many famous painters, before enjoying good coffee and substantial cakes at the Blue Egg, so substantial that my sausage roll also fed Howard and Andrew. But who got the prize once again for the largest cake and creamiest coffeee of the lot? None other than our dear friend Charles of course!

Well fuelled, three groups of Windmillers set off on the return leg more or less in the order they arrived, passing a wonderful display of wood carvings outside a pretty cottage on the way.

Tootling along in my Group 2 we heard a rush of wind and the famous five of Group 3, plus Ric, whizzed by at quite a speed, clearly keen to get back to the bar first or perhaps the need for Graham to find a cash machine for his imminent bar bill. Group 1 was also overtaken and then I think we overtook Group 1 who had stopped before Dunmow for a breather, so 1-2-3 at the start became 3-2-1 by the end but we all had a great ride.

Ken joined us towards the end, having cycled anti-clockwise to meet us, and soon we were all back in the garden of The Cock enjoying a good lunch and wishing Graham a very happy birthday in the usual Windmill manner, with other diners joining in. Top chap Graham! Thanks for the beers and for organising the ride. This is where we went:

Thanks also to photographers Charles, Simon and Andrew and well done to the several members who rode to the start and back, including Robert, Graham, Alan, Paul and Howard. That’s stamina for you!

Martin W

Thursday’s ride was organised by Martin W. A relatively local ride from the Coach and Horses, Newport (a pub massively refurbished since I was there last and stocked with a fine range of beers). The ‘twist’ on this ride was a visit to The Kia-Ora bungalow to visit Steve and Fiona Todd’s collection of 70 vintage motorbikes – more of which later.

The previous Monday, the Windmill ride had set off in the face of a cold northerly wind with a ‘significant’ probability of showers. It turned out (for those that completed the ride, me not amongst them) to be about as cold, wet and miserable as it can be in May. The forecast for Thursday’s ride was similar, so as I set off in pretty much full winter rain garb I was mentally composing a tale of abject, soggy misery for this blog. It didn’t happen ! To badly misquote Tenyson:

“Rain cloud to right of them,
Rain cloud to left of them,
Rain cloud in front of them
Volleyed and thundered ….”

The important thing here is no rain cloud actually appeared above them. We saw showers breaking all around us and evidence of soaking wet roads but we stayed dry and therefore, if not quite warm, comfortable. In fact, by the time we finished our ride and were tucking into birthday beers kindly funded by Howard, we were able to sup our beers outside in some sunshine (before it inevitably did rain and we adjourned to the bar).

But I get ahead of myself. 12 riders assembled at 09.00 for coffee and to pre-order food, some of whom I noticed had braved bare knees.

Our starting and finishing venue was the village of Newport. Newport used to contain a very large royal fish pond and hence was known as Newport Pond, but the pond has long since dried up. What Newport does have still (amongst other points of interest) are the church of St Mary the Virgin dating from the 14th century; many fine old houses dating from the 15th and 16th centuries and the grammar school founded in 1588.

Martin’s route, eschewing the busy main street where possible, did the Cook’s tour of many of these sights before heading out to Arkesden and Clavering then looping back via Rickling, Quendon and Ugley and past the historic London cycle club huts. Built just after WWII on donated land, these huts allowed London based cyclists to ride out on Saturdays, stay overnight, race on Sunday then head back to work on Monday. Worth seeking out anecdotes from Cambridge cyclist and author ‘Dr Hutch’.

Finally up the hill to Widdington, down to Newport then a loop out via the outskirts of Saffron Walden and Audley End before arriving back in Newport.

And the motorbike collection ? I have to thank Martin for the following words, my own knowledge of motorbikes extending no further than crashing a motor scooter into a ditch on Crete many years ago:

Through Martin’s membership of Uttlesford Ramblers he made the acquaintance of Steve Todd and his wife Fiona over lunch one day who revealed that they had a collection of around 70 vintage motorbikes and mopeds which we were welcome to view. Today was subsequently arranged for a visit to be made to their house in Newport, The Kia-Ora Bungalow, once the site of a café for cyclists and others.

Coffee, delicious cakes and a roaring fire welcomed us on arrival before Steve showed us around his bikes, ranging from bicycles with motors to racing bikes with sidecars (Steve’s speciality), trails bikes and sleek racers.

Steve won many medals and trophies during his racing career, starting in the ‘60s. Several members recognised bikes similar to those they rode in their wild youth. Tom Robinson would have enjoyed the visit (he’s busy mountain biking in France) as Steve helped Tom start his racing career on grass in the ‘70s.

Steve and Fiona have raised many thousands of pounds for the Essex and Herts Air Ambulance through opening their motorbike collection, which Windmillers were pleased to contribute to whilst thanking them for their kind hospitality.

Over lunch a list of ‘first ever’ motor bikes belonging to members on the ride was created:

Maurice – Hudson Autobike
Howard – Yamaha DT 175
Gareth – Yamaha DT 125
Ken – BSA ex-GPO 175
Nigel – BSA Bantam 125 (when aged11). The rest is history.
Simon – BSA Bantam 125 (built up from bits)
Rod – Francis Barnet 149
Andrew – Honda SS 50
Martin W – NSU Quickly

Howard, Maurice, Nigel, Graham, Neil, Martin W, Simon, Rod, Andrew, Alan, Mike, Evan. with Gareth and Ken joining en route.

We assembled at The Three Horseshoes at Helions Bumpstead earlier than usual, since the staff had worried Victor by saying that “an early departure and pub return was essential to ensure food availability”. Jeremy tried to join group1 but had to return to move his car so some local mobile post office, bank or some such could park in their usual place

Ah more to-ing and fro-ing.

Group 1 was eventually Myself, Howard, Maurice, Keith and Martin2, who mused on the origin of The Bumpsteads. So, I have searched for the answer. The planet is now a little warmer and some tech bro’ very slightly richer, but I can tell you all that “The place name Bumpstead originates from Old English, meaning a “place where reeds grow”. It is derived from bune (reeds, flax, or hemp) and stede (place or site). Now you can see how far human civilization has progressed.

Without further energy consumption I can also tell you that ‘The Three Horseshoes’ is derived from a farmer, who once had a horse, but one leg fell off. So, he only needed three horseshoes. The spare one is hanging up in the bar.

Now, can we please get on and ride our bikes.

The above photo shows the van and the discussion over parking arrangements. Also, some people having a chat, some people still arriving and a very patient bike which is waiting for somebody to eventually sit on it.

Go ahead. Get on. Make its day.

There were two further groups; Martin, Jenni, Deborah, Rod, Paul, and Ken then Victor, Graham, Charles, Jeremy and Alan.

We set out towards the Blue Egg in tolerably warm spring sunshine. It’s been so long since it rained, we would have to consult Chatgpt again to reassure ourselves that we were remembering it right.

The Blue Egg is located on part of Bluegate Hall Farm. The Egg derives from the hope that this shift away from traditional pig farming to a retail café and shop would grow into something else. It has.

Charles took full advantage of the calories available. Victor was starting to look more relaxed. Halfway through the ride and no disasters. Time for cake.

Inspection of the Blue Egg website shows the revamp of the kids’ part. Diversifying away from animals, which I assume bite and get you sued, to an ‘adventure playground’. Or swings and some logs as we would have called it many moons ago.

Fortunately, we were not further delayed because none of the club’s car-nuts had spotted the new Blue Egg – TOY LANDROVERS – on the website. Hireable for 10-minute periods it says. That was a lucky escape.

Some of the Blue Egg’s website was a bit more worrying.

I encourage you all to always examine advertising closely to avoid any subliminal messaging.

So, I’m supposed to want a hammer shaped bottle opener for my beer, am I? I don’t know if Deborah or Jenni do ‘fluffy’. I suspect not. But maybe that is the point. They are the ones out cycling. Maybe their sisters and daughters are too busy demonstrating their fluffy pink earmuffs on Tic-Tok.

This reminds me of a recent conversation. Father to son, “why haven’t you got a girlfriend yet” “Dad you don’t know how hard it is. On a date, when you can get them off their phones, you find they are air-heads and work in a nail bar”. “I see. I don’t think your mother has ever been into a nail bar. I must ask her, but she’s busy right now and won’t want me interrupting her”

My curiosity was aroused and I searched around pursuing my new-found interest in gender and socialization. I came across Butler’s theory of gender. Apparently, she is very clever and famous in certain circles. On reflection found I rather agree with her.

“Judith Butler’s gender theory argues that gender is not an internal essence or biological fact, but a performativity. A repeated, socially enforced set of acts (behaviour, clothing, speech) that create the illusion of a stable gender. Essentially, “doing” gender creates the illusion of “being” a gender, making it a social construct”.

I find that our society is quick reinforce gender assumptions, for instance to outfit male infants in blue and girls in pink. But history has a useful way of puncturing today’s assumptions. It shows this colour differentiation is quite new. Prior to the 1940s, boys wore pink and girls wore blue.

Trigger warning. Some people may find this bit of the blog upsetting.

If you don’t think advertising is important in enforcing social norms then consider this. We are told Santa Claus is real and he is a very jolly man dressed in red.

And it’s not true!

Sure, Santa Claus is real, but consulting Victorian Christmas cards will show you that he is supposed to be dressed in green. That was until a certain American company ran adverts in the 1930’s with him dressed in red.

The rest of the ride followed our own comforting traditions.

Group photos at the windmill. Return to the pub.

Where the necessity to hurry proved unfounded, since we were back by 12.30 and the kitchen staff were fine with a group of this size. Then a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday for Andrew, who kindly bought us all a drink as part of the celebration of another of his trips around the sun.

Special thanks go to Victor who stepped in to organize this ride at short notice. There’s quite protracted gap in the ride organizers spread sheet at the moment.

Should it be more widely disseminated?

Wow, what a route Keith conjoured up for this lovely ride through quiet and beautiful Essex lanes! Starting from The Bell Inn in Castle Hedingham the route took us clockwise through countless pretty villages and included a new coffee stop in the middle of nowhere, Greenstead Green.

And what a treat it was to have Deborah riding with us again after her recent hip operation, with thanks to Jenni for loaning her e-bike.

Castle Hedingham brings back fond memories for me. Stopping there for coffee on my first ever Windmill ride, I padlocked my bike to Vernon’s but forgot to bring the key. 30 minutes later and despite Maurice’s best efforts the owner of the café was able to cut through the cable. ‘Who invited this plonker?’ Vernon was heard to say, and how accurate he was. Somehow or other I was allowed to ride a second time under strict orders not to mess up the ride again.

And so it was an on-time departure on this ride for 15 Windmillers, who set off in 3 groups of 5. Besides Keith and Deborah the others who gathered at The Bell were Maurice, Brian, Andrew, Rod, Martin B, Paul, Simon, Howard, Victor, Ric, Jeremy, Alan and myself. Ken joined us after the coffee stop by cycling in the opposite direction.

Martha’s Tea Room turned out to be the focal point of the local area – a farm yard converted into a myriad of small businesses including Martha’s and even a Post Office, which is more than we have in Ickleton. The coffee and cakes were fine but Maurice and I, having arrived first, were served last not knowing what we had done to upset the staff.

Returning via the outskirts of Braintree and skirting Sible Hedingham we were soon back at The Bell in good time for some excellent beer and lunch.

Many thanks to Keith for organising the ride and to photographers including Keith, Brian and Simon. This is where we went:

Martin W

Yes, that’s what 19 Windmillers set out to see for themselves what the developers state is a bold and ambitious vision for social and sustainable living in the heart of the Fens, and designed to create neighbourhoods that place cyclists and pedestrians ahead of the car, namely Waterbeach New Town East (WNTE) And were we impressed? Yes, in terms of cycle paths and the café but it’s early days to judge the architecture as only a handful of houses have been completed out of 4,500 planned. Overall, 11,000 houses are planned to be built on the site, a former RAF airbase.

Brian. who proudly became a Grandpa for the first time earlier in the day, was the guy who organised the ride, setting off from Day’s Bakery and Food Hall in Newton and heading north through Trumpington meadows and along the busway into Cambridge before heading up to Landbeach and WNTE, largely off road most of the way. Besides Brian, the large turnout comprised birthday drinks boy Charles, Maurice, Andrew, Rod, Simon, Keith, Martin B, Howard, Tom, Ken, Robert, Ric, Geoff, Alan, Jeremy, Paul, Neil and Martin W.

This magnificent bridge is 95m long and weighs 150 tonnes. It has a ‘flared parapet’ to act as a landmark for the development and connects with paths for cyclists, pedestrians and horse riders in both directions. Thinking he might be riding a horse Keith couldn’t resist showing his method of mounting his bike:

Having already been rugby tackled by his small dog from behind earlier in the day, sending him sprawling on the ground, Jeremy had another unfortunate fall just before the coffee stop when he hit some gravel, which others avoided by following the correct route…….. But he was none the worse for wear, fortunately.

At least WNTE has got its priorities right with the establishment of a fine café-cum-bar, Brew and Basket, which also sold basic groceries for the few people already occupying their new abodes. It was run efficiently and the coffee and cakes were both very acceptable. Not so sure about the beers on tap, though.

Coffee at Brew and Basket, WNTE

The return leg took us initially through the wilds of the former airbase before heading down to the River Cam and past the station, which is being relocated to WTNE in 2027, which makes sense. Following the towpath down to Baits Bike Lock and on down the Cambridge Bumps course watching rowers at work and being coached is always a delight, but heeding Brian’s warning of dodgy wooden rails that have dismounted past member Vernon and Martin W previously. Luckily there were no dismounts on this occasion.

Taking the Chisholm Trail back into Cambridge and through the side streets to the bridge over the railway line soon got us back on the busway to Trumpington and thence to Harston where Neil’s bike decided to give up the ghost and refused to propel him the short distance back to The Queen’s Head in Newton for lunch. But a Good Samaritan, i.e. Maurice, soon whizzed back in his car to pick him up. Apparently the inner gearing of the cassette had decided to break without warning.

Lunch was simple but excellent, as always, at The Queen’s Head. The brown soup was dark brown, the sandwiches were superb and the sausage roll was to die for, and all washed down by excellent beers from barrels behind the bar courtesy of birthday boy Charles, who received an unusually loud rendition of Happy Birthday (was that Rob’s influence by any chance?).

Thanks, Brian, for a great ride and for introducing us to social and sustainable living in the heart of the Fens, but I think I’ll stay in Ickleton for the time being. Thanks also to photographers Charles, Brian, Andrew and Rob who spotted ransoms (wild garlic to you and me) on the way home:

And this is where we went:

Martin W

Exactly who is a RiRi I ask myself? I signed up for this ride hoping to find out. Perhaps she’s an exotic bird or animal with interesting hair? Just a guess, but not so far from the mark, I was to discover.

We gathered at The Hoops at Bassingbourn where the landlord greeted us in night-time attire. Coffee was a distant dream and we expected it to arrive after 9.30. It was decided that starting a round of coffee orders would simply result in delay, so we ordered food and offered up a prayer concerning lunch.

The weather was good, the cold wind having dropped, so we split into two groups. Group 1; Rod, Maurice, MartinB, Victor, myself and Neil, headed off at a cracking pace towards RiRi’s in Potton.

Victor had come up with quite a flat route which turned out to be on exceptionally quiet roads. Whether it was the Easter half term or the price of petrol price, something had conspired to give us the roads almost to ourselves.

On the way group 2; Keith, Howard Andrew, Martin, Alan and Brian were a little more sedate and took the traditional Cockayne Hatley photo.

Friends of RiRi’s cafe would undoubtably describe it as ‘unobtrusive’. Which is just what it was, a white, single storey football pavilion, nowhere in particular, surrounded by fields. However Victor had found this all important coffee and cake rest-stop while scouting out the route. It was filled with kids on half term holiday, but they were no match for the big kids who had just arrived on their bikes. We soon had all the toys and the swing, while they looked sullenly on.

Finally I was able to ascertain who RiRi is. She’s a character from Marvel Comics. Very suitable for a children’s playground I thought.

They have come a long way from Spider Man, Captain America, Captain Marvel and the Avengers. The characters are now also incarnated in a form suitable for the adolescent, male readership.

RiRi’s only fault appears to be that she has magically acquired my hair as well as her own.

After refreshment we stopped to admire the packhorse bridge over the Potton Brook as did group 2.

Neil dared to attempt the ‘wet’ route, but we followed Maurice who didn’t want any repeat of falling off incidents.

We returned to The Hoops to find they had got into gear and provided us with some pretty good, basic food. And sometimes that’s all you need after a ride, so everyone was happy.

Overall a nice ride exploring a bit of Bedfordshire. Also a new coffee stop. Thanks go to Victor who sorted it all out. I’m hoping we have had the last of the icy winds and the year will get better and better from here on in.

Last Thursday’s ride was an old familiar route linking two favourite venues: The Red Lion at Great Sampford and Tarka’s cafe at Baythorne End.

That morning dawned chilly, bright and breezy, with not many exposed knees in evidence (except Simon’s, obviously). “Bright and Breezy” is not only a description of the weather, however. It’s also a reflection on the pace Maurice set the group of 8 off from the start, with the peloton split in two within a kilometre of Great Samford – so not many photos today !

Not confirmed, but it might also have contributed to one of the more unusual ‘mechanicals’ suffered by a Windmiller in recent times. Howard’s bikes are usually perfectly prepared and maintained so it came as a bit of a surprise when a pedal exploded on him ! OK, exaggerated for dramatic effect – the pedal body came off the spindle. With care, it was still usable back to the pub.

The circa 1700 Gibraltar Mill at Great Bardfield is a routine photo stop when riding this way, but not today ! We breezed past without a pause on our way to Waltham Cross. In lieu of a photo, I can only offer the following bald facts courtesy of Wiki:

The mill has four double Patent sails carried on a cast-iron windshaft (obviously better attached than Howard’s pedal) and is winded by an eight-bladed fantail. The mill is 13.41 m high overall. The windshaft carries a wooden Brake Wheel with 90 iron teeth, cast in six segments. The Wallower was an iron mortice gear, with 44 wooden cogs. It was carried on a cast-iron Upright Shaft. The Great Spur Wheel had 88 cogs, and drove two pairs of millstones via Stone Nuts with 18 cogs each.

Thankfully the notorious lane down through the ford at Waltham Cross was dry and cleanish channels through the dry mud had already been established so this stretch went without incident. The transit of Gainsford End mill went without photo, as did the transit of Great Oak, Great Yeldham.

Finally, we turned back into the breeze and arrived at Tarkas after 32km of riding. Where the coffee machine was out of action. That’s two weeks of coffee disappointment now ! So tea and cakes it was before the short final stretch back to Great Sampford.

Once the group had all finally arrived and trailed into the pub, it was the usual high quality Italian themed lunchtime fayre (good enough to tempt Ken off his sick bed to join us). Thanks to Maurice for organising.

Maurice, Howard, Graham, Tom, Keith, Simon, Rod, Paul and Ken for lunch.

New pub and new coffee shop, so full marks to Graham. This was quite a flat route, through some very quiet and pleasant country lanes.

Sheering does have The Cock.

But it is much more famous as being the home of Steve Harris, the bass guitarist from Iron Maiden.

Is was worth 6.7 million or was it 4 million? I don’t know, but it was on the market for 10 years and as you know everything is only worth what you can get for it. It almost became a fan hotel. I just hope the sound proofing for the bedrooms is up to scratch, since those guitar solos can feel a bit self indulgent when the drugs wear off and sleep become a necessity. As for the green arm chairs, if he doesn’t want those, my mother will take them off his hands. Oh and there’s one Donald T. that will take that coffee table.

Anyway we had great weather especially for mid-March. We split into two groups; myself, Howard, MartinB, Andrew, Tom and group 2. Graham, Geoff, Alan, Rachael, Keith

Initially we went south towards Magdalen Laver, who’s church rector, William Webb Ellis was the inventor of the sport of rugby.

Then onwards towards to coffee at Bretts in White Roding, where we received a right roding for propping our bikes up in front of a display of ‘marvelous’ plant pots. Ones that would have flown out of the place, borne aloft by adoring spring gardeners, if only they had been able to observe them in their full glory.

Having suppressed GDP and perhaps more importantly the money supply (defined as M1 I think) for the duration of a coffee break, we continued past White Roding mill.

This worked by wind until 1921, then was converted to being powered by an engine until the WW2. It was then bought by Michael Redgrave, the actor, as a home. It escaped demolition during the 70’s and 80’s and has now been partly restored.

The final leg was all along the side of Hatfield forest, a prime surviving example of medieval hunting forest. Myself I thought this was an exceptional route, surprisingly flat, apart from a little kicker near the end and along exceptionally quiet roads, especially considering how close it is to Harlow and the M11.

The Cock had claimed it could cope without pre-booking lunch. I got mine and was finished before any others arrived, so I have no complaints. Can’t speak for the rest of you.

Special thanks go to Graham on this ride.

Nice weather. Let’s hope for a few more like this during the coming year.

Planting flowers in potholes in Ickleton is becoming a popular pastime but there were none to be seen amongst the thousands of potholes experienced on this ride in South Cambridgeshire, not even a solitary daffodil. But what a joy it was to see thousands of daffodils as we cruised sedately through Thriplow, ahead of the Daffodil Weekend on 21st and 22nd March. Were there more potholes than daffodils? That is hard to say but it would be a close run thing.

Jeremy was the leader this week and he created a lovely route but a beady eye was needed to watch out for potholes of all shapes and sizes. Accompanied by Maurice, Andrew, Alan, Neil, Martin B, Robert, Ric, Geoff, Rach, Brian, Rod, Simon, Nigel, Howard, Ken (joining half way) and Martin W, the gang split up into three groups when setting off from Café 19 in Duxford after an initial shot of caffeine.

Heading anti-clockwise via Whittlesford, Newton and Harston, it was easy peasy as far as Haslingfield but Chapel Hill towards Barrington always sorts the men from the boys, resulting in some gasping for breath at the top before flying down at top speed into Barrington. From there it was out to Orwell and a stop for some at the Meridian Line Marker, unveiled on December 31, 2000, by Astronomer Royal Sir Martin Rees.

Not long afterwards there was not much left of this upturned LandRover which had been torched, according to Simon, who went to take a look:

Continuing through to Meldreth and Shepreth the welcome sight of Hot Numbers near Melbourn came into view where some excellent coffee and cakes were consumed on the outside tables.

Next stop was Fowlmere and a diversion into Thriplow to cycle along practically every street in the village to admire the thousands of daffodils on display, some already beginning to look a little tired and there’s still 2 weeks to go to the Daffodil Weekend…… Just as well that Jeremy got us in early.

Having crossed the busy A10 before coffee, when Maurice had a near miss, the next obstacle was the A505 at the Fowlmere / Chrishall Grange crossroads, the subject of much debate before the ride as to whether this was safer than the crossing to Barley. As it happens, Paul got blown off his bike by the wind created by a large lorry before crossing the A505 but he was unhurt. All this goes to show how much care is increasingly needed on our rides, which are made more precarious on account of the awful road surface conditions we have to endure.

Warnings were also given beforehand of the infamous ‘pothole alley’ between Chrishall Grange and Ickleton Old Grange, which was almost impassable by car on 2nd March. However, on the morning of our ride the road was closed and Ken witnessed two guys with a truck and tarmac shovelling small amounts into the worst of the potholes but leaving many others untouched. This made our ride slightly easier but it won’t be long before the road is back to its usual state.

The final obstacle was crossing the railway line in Ickleton using the pedestrian route into the grounds of the Wellcome Centre. This can be scary for those with prams or bikes since the red and green lights were installed as only 15 seconds pass after the red light comes on and before a train roars through at 80mph. Brian’s group experienced this happening but luckily the oncoming train was travelling at a slow speed.

Back at Café19 a good lunch was enjoyed by those attending and Jeremy was thanked for organising an excellent ride, even with the potholes. Thanks are also due to photographers including Paul, Rod, Brian and Simon.This is where we went:

Martin W

Where to stat with this week’s blog ? maybe I’ll start with the title. The story goes as follows:

A gentleman cycling along a wet road sees a massive flood across the road ahead. Ever cautious, he turns to the farmer, looking over his gate, watching the proceedings, and asks him “Is that puddle very deep ?”, to which the farmer replies “‘ba’int be more’n siz inches, sor”. Reassured, the gentleman cycled on, only to disappear into a neck deep flood. Suffering only minor bumps, he pulled himself out and turned to the farmer: “I thought you said it was no more than six inches deep ??” to which the farmer responded “I don’t understand, it sor. Water only comes half way up my ducks”.

We didn’t see a friendly farmer but something must have reassured Maurice that proceeding straight through a massive puddle would be fine. With the number of massive pot holes, it wasn’t, of course. Apparently this was Maurice’s first fall off a bike (hard to believe for some of us !). Happily both bike and rider were fine.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Our ride started with a warm welcome and coffee at an old favourite, the Golden Fleece at Braughing. Prompted by Martin W, the following Wiki entry sheds no light on why this pub is called the ‘Golden Fleece’ (for all readers not interested in a load of Greek, scroll forward now).

The fleece is a symbol of authority and kingship. The Golden Fleece of mythology is the fleece of the golden-woolled, winged ram, Chrysomallos, that rescued Phrixus and brought him to Colchis, where Phrixus then sacrificed it to Zeus. Phrixus gave the fleece to King Aeëtes who kept it in a sacred grove, whence Jason and the Argonauts stole it with the help of Medea, Aeëtes’ daughter. The story is of great antiquity and was current in the time of Homer (eighth century BC). Nowadays, the heraldic variations of the Golden Fleece are featured frequently in Georgia, especially for Coats of Arms and Flags associated with Western Georgia.

Eighteen riders, almost certainly a Windmill winter record, were lured to the start. Partly, I suspect, by the false promise offered by the balmy blue skies of Wednesday but also by the offer of free beer from birthday boy Martin B and to meet our new rider, Michael. Hi !

And so it was three groups set off in ‘Fair for February’ conditions (breezy, grey but not cold), towards Puckeridge on one of Maurice’s Hilly Hertfordshire rounds.

Heading south (contra flow traffic lights and the busy A120 safely negotiated) we were soon on quiet lanes, dodging hedge cutting tractors, to the old Ermine Street. A short stretch led to High Cross and hence the steep muddy little lane heading to Sacombe Green (“it only comes half way up my ducks..”). Bypassing Dane End, we carried on up and down through Whempstead and Benington and finally to a much deserved and overdue coffee stop at the impossibly quaint Old Brewery and Gift shop, replete with its active knitting group in residence.

Two incidents to report before coffee, though. Our trusty chronicler Charles’ rear facing camera fell off without him noticing, but luckily retrieved by following riders. Also retrieved from the road was a three year old toddler, much to the relief of their mother. Well done, our boys in green.

After a leisurely coffee and cake, it was back on the road for the shorter leg back to lunch, with a more helpful (sometimes) tail wind. Still up and down, though, through Ardery, Great Munden and finally a short stretch of the A10 – safely negotiated.

All safely back at the Golden Fleece where poor Martin B was surveying a seriously dented credit card – many thanks for the birthday beers and congratulations on your engagement. The usual off key rendition of “Happy Birthday” may have changed the ambience for a few of the fellow diners in the bar.

A great turn out, great ride, fair weather, fine lunch and birthday beers. What’s not to like !

Michael, Simon, Ric, Paul, Jeremy, Nigel, Graham, Rod, Charles, Tom, Geoff, Ken, Martin B, Martin W, Howard, Andrew, Maurice, Brian

After a succession of wet or cancelled Thursdays, not to mention riding through a 50m long 30cm deep flood last Monday, what a relief it was to have an enjoyable dry ride from The Bull at Burrough Green to Newmarket and back, courtesy of Victor’s organisation. Ok, it was a bit mizzly towards the end but nothing serious and furthermore Victor decided wisely on the tarmac option at the end of the ride instead of a muddy bridleway.

Setting off at 9.30 after a welcoming coffee and placing lunch orders with the landlady of The Bull, Victor led the first group with Charles, Jeremy, Andrew and Martin in tow whilst Brian brought up the rear with Rod, Graham and Alan. Graham was nursing a sore knee but he rode to the start from Ickleton and opted for a lift home at the end. Victor’s route was a fascinating new one to start with taking us firstly towards Swaffham Bulbeck and Swaffham Prior, then Reach, Burwell and Exning before negotiating a network of Newmarket bike paths to arrive at Victor Victoria for coffee.

Both groups decided to stop, independently, in Swaffham Prior to admire the two churches packed close together, St Mary’s and St Cyriac’s. Group A repented their many sins, led by Charles, whilst Group B looked holier than thou. Next time we must stop and admire the window in St Mary’s which is dedicated to the aftermath of World War One and features submarines, tanks, Zeppelines and an aircraft with German markings. The Swaffhams, and Swavesey, were originally founded by a tribe from western Germany after the Romans had left, the Swabians, and so perhaps this is the reason for commemorating the German war machine in the window of St. Mary’s church? A full account of both churches can be seen here: https://greatenglishchurches.co.uk/html/_swaffham_prior.html

Coffee in Victor Victoria in Newmarket was up to the usual standard but one cake aficionado was heard to make the comment that those in Victor Victoria in Sawston were superior. On the other hand the croissants were truly excellent. Being half term week it was somewhat difficult to find a seat but that’s to be expected.

It had been downhill almost the whole way to Newmarket and so it was time for some ups and downs on the return leg passing fancy training establishments such as Godolphin along the way with their long lines of manicured hedges.

Back at The Bull a roaring fire greeted the diners where it was great to have Maurice and Ken join us and a good lunch was enjoyed by all.

Thanks go to Victor for organising an excellent ride and arranging better weather, and to photographers including Charles, Brian and Graham.

This is where we went:

Martin