27 June 2019: Shotley Peninsula

No that’s what I call a Gatehouse. The Windmillers at Ewarton Hall

Thursday morning saw seven Windmillers set off from the Carrier’s Arms, East Bergholt, for a tour of the Shotley peninsula. Blessed with a lovely June morning, Maurice – followed by Andrew, Howard, Roger, Graham, Simon and Brian – led the way out into the Suffolk countryside.

Everything was going smoothly until our leader was brought to a sudden and unexpected halt, his chain jammed in the chainwheel. Dismounting, and with much effing and jeffing, Maurice tried freeing it with brute force – but to no avail.

We were pondering what to do next when Simon, reaching into his saddlebag, pulled out a large steel spike which, he maintained, was a tyre lever. Mmm, maybe for a tractor we thought, though some likened it more to a housebreaker’s jemmy. Whatever, in Howard’s capable hands it did the trick and – hey presto – Maurice was mobile again.

Ewarton Hall

Our next stop was at Ewarton where we pulled in to admire the 16th century Hall. Seeing us at the bottom of her drive, the owner came out to chat and filled us in on some of the history. The Hall was once owned by Anne Boleyn’s uncle and according to legend, Anne loved the place so much she gave instructions that her heart should be buried in the local church. The owner doubts whether Anne’s heart is really there though during Victorian times renovations did uncover a heart-shaped tin casket in the church. This is now buried beneath the organ with a plaque marking the spot.

The marina at Shotley Gate

Rounding the peninsula at Shotley Gate, we paused for a photo with the cranes of Felixstowe docks as a backdrop.

Back on the bikes we made the steep descent down to Pin Mill for a coffee stop at the Butt & Oyster. We sat outside taking in the view over the Orwell and speculating as to what else Simon might have in his saddlebag. Maybe a lump hammer or two?

With the wind at our backs, we made short work of the return stretch to East Bergholt and lunch at the Carriers Arms. 

From East Bergholt to Shotley Gate and back

We had clocked up 34 miles, apart from Graham who seems to be competing with Sandra to make the rest of us look lazy. He opted to cycle the additional 60 miles home to Ickleton. Cor blimey, Graham.

Thanks, Maurice and Andrew, for organising another super outing.



20 June 2019: Hertfordshire Hills

Raring to go? Or shall we just stay here in the garden?

Thursday morning saw eleven Windmillers gathering in the garden of the Golden Fleece at Braughing – Ric, Roger and Sandra arriving on two wheels while the rest of us – Maurice, Keith, Howard, Charles, Rod, Chris, Victor and Brian – arrived on four.

Being such a beautiful morning some were tempted to stay in the garden and natter away for an hour in the sunshine. Alas our leader had other plans and – Landlord Peter having taken our lunch orders – Maurice led the way out of Braughing for a tour of the Herts hills.

Crossing the Rib at Barwick

Some five miles in – and for reasons unknown – some in the lead pulled up unexpectedly and poor old Charles, ploughing into the back of the peloton, took a tumble and gashed his knee. Old soldier that he is, he shrugged it off, got back on his bike and carried on.

The rest of the outing was thankfully uneventful, taking in the villages of Cold Christmas, Thundridge and Bassus Green, the blood trail from Charles’ knee proving helpful for the tailenders to follow.

After 24 miles and several stiff ascents, Church Farm, Ardeley, was a welcome sight and we pulled in for coffee and cake.

Paying our respects to Thomas Clarkson

Back on the bikes we made short work of the remaining 8 miles, stopping just once at Wadesmill to admire the monument to Thomas Clarkson (1760 – 1846), leader of the anti-slavery movement.

Arriving back at the pub we enjoyed a beer and a good lunch, well satisfied with our 32 miles. For Sandra, however, that was only the warm up. She texted later that day to say she had clocked up 126 miles. Respect!

32 miles clockwise from Braughing

Thanks, Maurice, for organising another excellent outing.