Cycling from the Cock at Henham.

Cock-a-doodle-do!

I sprang out of bed cock-a-hoop at the thought of such fine weather for a Thursday ride this early in March. Cock-a-doodle-do went next door’s rooster. I thought, this word is a fine example of onomatopoeia. My bacon sizzled, my cereal went snap, crackle, pop and I looked forward to clunk, click (every trip). The latter being a lovely example of onomatopoeia combined with assonance. Anybody would think these advertising executives have done English degrees and, unlike most of the students, were actually listening.

This early in the morning my darling wife looked fetching, using a pillow for a hat, with her palms firmly pressed over her ears. I thought this was probably because of the rooster’s antics. Or maybe she is anticipating this morning’s first lecture “A comparative study of onomatopoeic usage in English and Spanish (part 1)”

All this was soon forgotten as we assembled at the Cock at Hen(ham) with the prospect of a fine day for cycling. In the garden the weathercock was set to fair. We all had coffee, except Deborah who cocked-a-snook at this tradition and chose tea instead. Andrew studied the menu hoping for cockles as a starter, but they were unavailable. Unfortunately, the soup was tomato and basil and not his preferred cock-a-leekie.

After coffee and before riding, gentlemen of a certain age all visit the bathroom. However, all reference to cock has been deleted from this section of the blog by the Windmill Club Censors.

By 9.30 Group-1 (Maurice, Rod, Ken, Andrew, Victor, Rick, Brian and myself) was cocked and ready to go. I kept an ear cocked so as to be ready for when my group set off. I asked Brian if I should join group 1, he cocked his head in affirmation.

This was the route

We went anti-cock-wise.

As I cycled, I mulled over the symbolism of the thrice crowing cock. It is associated with events of great import and of the need for repentance. This relates to the biblical story of Peter’s denial of Jesus (Matthew 26:34, Mark 14:30, Luke 22:34, John 13:38).

Our neighbour’s cock often crows three times. The pause is then tense. When it resumes and issues some more, any thought of my need for redemption fades from my mind. It crows like its life depends on it. That would be especially true if it were my cockerel. My actions would then require quite some redemption.  

Andrew’s chain came off during the ride. The chain was a bit long and on the smallest cog looked a bit cockeyed. He thinks it is necessary to remove two links. Both he and Maurice were nearly caught out by a particularly bad pothole right in the middle of the carriageway during this outing. These need pointing out when on a club ride. Though there are so many at the side of the road it has become near impossible to call them all out.

The second group was comprised of Graham, Geoffrey, Alan, Charles, Deborah, Howard, Neil, Gareth and Keith. The two groups met for coffee at the Blue Egg and we all sat together in the sunshine.

Group 2 stopped at the Rectory Ponds at Little Easton where Howard tried recording and identifying bird song using his phone.

They spotted a duck with a fishing lure attached near to its eye and Kieth reported it. The reply from the angling club was a bit unhelpful. One might expect a fishing bailiff to have excellent eyesight, and so it proves. Apparently, the lure has ‘Made in Poland’ printed on it, though my eyesight is too poor to make this out.

It’s an upsetting image so I am using Graham’s of another duck to adorn our blog.

I note male birds of any kind are called cocks, the females’ hens. This nomenclature is a little cumbersome when referring the male woodcock, as a cock woodcock. With a little more global warming a think peacocks and cockatoos will be a common sight around inland ponds.

The route was far from a cockamamy idea and proved ideal for the day. There were no cockups in the arrangements, as might be expected for a Graham ride. Both groups arrived back in time for their pub lunch. All that remained to do was to enjoy some beer in the spring sunshine, while listening to the usual poppycock and cock-and-bull stories.

At this point you can vote. Was this a good blog or a load of cock?

I remind you that it can be both.