Andrew regaled us on this ride with his stories of joining the ‘real’ Windmill Club whilst on a night out in London, and losing his wallet en route (not due to improper expenditure it should be stressed).
What happened was that he left his wallet at a BP Station whilst en route to the Silverstone Clasic in his brother-in-law’s Mercedes Benz 560SEC, once owned by Martin. One Windmill wag questioned whether there was anything in the wallet but Andrew claimed it contained £240 and they were not Scottish notes, plus credit cards. Luckily it was handed in at the BP Station who promised to return it, and it eventually arrived with nothing missing.
If that wasn’t enough hassle for one day, after a rollicking good night on the town Lindsey left her handbag in a London cab, a fancy handbag at that, which contained her mobile phone. Andrew eventually traced it to a house in Barking where the hung over SEC was directed to early on the Sunday morning in an attempt to retrieve it. And there on the drive was a Black cab and the phone could be heard ringing inside but despite Andrew barking in true dawggie fashion outside there was no answer. Eventually an upstairs window opened and the sleepy cab driver who hadn’t got home until 4.30am came out in his pyjamas and handed back Lindsey’s handbag. Phew! Relief all round in the Rusack family. Or just Barking mad?
These tales of woe were recounted at various stages of a pleasant 30 mile ride around the lanes which Maurice devised, somewhat cruelly, to take in hill after hill after hill after hill, starting with that nasty little bastardo going eastwards from Chrishall Grange.

So stops galore were needed to regain breath and hear the next instalment from Andrew.

Then it was on to Arkesden, Clavering, Langley Upper Green, Duddenhoe End and back to the starting point of The Red Cow for refreshments.
Thanks go as always to Maurice and Andrew for organising our rides, and to Charles for two of the pics – he is not guilty of the Windmill Club pic!
Martin
One reply on “2 August. Barking mad tales of lost property. 20 miles.”
Andrew leads a charmed life – while also enjoying the fleshpots of London
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