With thanks to Keith for stepping up to organise this ride at late notice. Its always pot luck what sort of turn out we’ll get on wet, windy pre-Christmas December days. In the end, this was a pretty good turn out. However, wet, Easterly windy conditions and the absence of Charles restricted photography to a bare minimum so as blogs go, this one is gearing up to be pretty brief !
The Black Bull at Balsham is always a good starting point, with a roaring fire and coffee to start the proceedings. Also, the rain was just about holding off when we set off as two groups toward Streetly End windmill. Unfortunately Maurice’s encyclopaedic knowledge of multiple routes hereabouts meant that, on auto pilot, he managed to miss the Streetly detour and was not seen again until coffee !
Now in steady light drizzle and headwind, we crossed the busy A1307 via the sneaky path cut through at Horseheath and headed up to the Camps. From there, it was past the trig point (126m altitude) and the radio mast at Olmstead and down to Helions Bumpstead.
At Helions Bumstead, the second group caught up with a puncture repair to Keith’s bike in progress. Ric stayed on to lend his proper old skool, full sized bike pump whilst the rest of us ploughed on towards the promise of coffee.
At Steeple Bumpstead, the newly promoted leading group took an executive decision to not head up another hill but head in the most direct line towards Tarkas café. Fully re-inflated the new second group were made of sterner stuff and completed the route up the hill as planned.
Coffee and yummy tea cakes
Coffees and yummy teacakes later and Maurice back in the fold, it was back into the damp (but now with a following breeze) it was off via Kedington and Great Wratting and Withersfield back to the pub for beer and lunch, where a glass was raised to Martin W.
As a footnote, anyone cycling home from Balsham will have received an absolute drenching as the drizzle gave way to a downpour !
Deborah, Andrew, Martin B, Alan, Keith, Maurice, Brian, Ric, Simon, Howard, Jeremy, Rod
‘Has anyone seen my hearing aid?’ shouted Rod? ‘No’, we hollered back, ‘But we’ll help you find it’. ‘Watch where you’re treading’, shouted Rod. And so started a frantic search under the tables, chairs, sofas, behind the cushions (ugh, that was a sight), under hats, gloves and clothing but no luck. Even Simon on all fours failed to find it. But tech sort of came to the rescue. ‘It’s near here’, shouted Rod looking at the app on his phone but wherever he went the app maintained it was still nearby. And it was! Relief all round when Rod and Alan discovered it was on his clothing the whole time.
So after a pleasant meet up for a coffee in The Cricketers Arms in Rickling Green, suitably chosen by our leader for the day, Barmy Army Keith, seen above desperately trying to locate fivers for change, we set off in two groups on a delightful circuit to Little Easton and back.
The ride was pretty uneventful but clearly something warranted an inspection of Keith’s bike at one stage by his Group 1 colleagues of Simon, Maurice, Howard, Martin B, Andrew and Charles. Meanwhile Group 2 comprising Brian, Alan, Deborah, Rod, Ric and Martin W spent some of their time dodging bin lorries on the quiet lanes but luckily not ending up inside one. Fancy organising a ride on black bin day!
Whizzing past P & A Wood in Great Easton where Windmillers normally stop to admire the Rollers or Bentleys, it wasn’t long before we entered Little Easton and had coffee and cakes at The Tea Room of Little Easton Manor, and very good they were too.
The verdict was that Simon’s scones were excellent, as were the teacakes, jam and Brian’s Eccles cake. The calorie intake reached new heights.
With Christmas looming Keith organised the first festive Windmiller photo:
…whilst Simon went looking for some mistletoe to assist the amorous Charles:
The return leg was also mild and mucky with some wind on the nose at times but thankfully dry and through more quiet lanes. There was just one massive lorry and trailer to squeeze by between Manuden and Rickling Green but otherwise it remained uneventful. Back at The Cricketers we received a warm welcome and enjoyed an excellent lunch in ‘our own’ room. Hats off to Ric who rode all the way from Harston and back again, fuelled no doubt by all the American cuisine he enjoyed recently there.
Hear hear to Keith for organising a splendid ride, and thanks to photographers Charles and Simon.
The number of times I’ve been through Burroughs Green and never noticed the Bull, a welcoming looking pub set slightly back from the main village road. Victor’s ride this week plugged this glaring gap in my ‘local’ knowledge.
And a guest
This was the first winter ride of the season, recognisably winter because Simon and Alan had their knees covered up. Plus there was ice on the road and the thermometer was reading sub zero, of course. In the end, despite some gloomy posts on the group chat, a creditable 12 riders turned up for coffee, to pre-order lunch and, unusually, to pre order and pay for beer too. A welcoming pub fire meant that at least we would start the ride warm.
Tom on the bridleway
Two groups set off and were very quickly into new territory via a bridle way leading to the Brinkley Road. The bridle way was fine for riding but ice either side of the obvious riding line served as a reminder to be vigilant. As it turned out, there were very few icy sections on the rest of the route and the majority of those could be easily bypassed. There were no ‘involuntary dismounts’ to report.
A brief pause at Wood Ditton
From Westley Waterless our route turned east. At one point, there was an option to shorten the route in the event of excessive miserableness, but brief patches of sun and properly covered knees meant that we were all happy to head for café 33, the only café in the Stradishal area (at least that we have found) and therefore a regular Windmill stop.
Cafe 33 and Keith modelling his new jacket
“But virtually no wind 🤗” Charles had declared that morning, so whatever it was we were riding into on the return leg from the cafe (which caused flags to flutter and noses to run) was probably something else. With the promise of a decent beer, decent lunch and a pub fire beckoning there definitely wasn’t any incentive to be hanging around in the chill (well, apart from admiring the lovely widespread views offered by this part of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire that is).
A great route on some familiar roads but a few unfamiliar twists and turns to keep us on our toes.
Lunch
Food and beer back at the Bull were as good as anticipated, where we were joined for lunch by Martin W and Andrew.
Ride organizers are listed against dates on a spreadsheet called “Ride Organizers”, hosted in a WhatsApp group and carefully administered by “Andrew the organized.” Andrew is also known as “Deputy Daug, for his full-time cat-herding responsibilities. He has many spreadsheets, not least important, the one that records what you have ordered for the Christmas meal. It has been observed that many club members have difficulty in recalling these details, especially the ones who have been driven to the pub. I’m not sure why, but I have some theories. It could be that being driven to the pub is bad for the memory of those who normally cycle there, however this may conflate cooccurrence with causality.
However, what happens when Andrew’s computer is in the computer-hospital ! Chaos that’s what. So it came to pass that no ride was organized for this Thursday. No pub booked, no coffee stop, no route. Oh dear. Rod stepped into the gap as quick as a flash and constructed a route while Alan booked The Pheasant at Great Chishill. They are used to us and could host at short notice. I think we pushed out another large and ever expanding group though.
Charles took the starting photo, while Nigel carried out last minute preparations.
This time of the year Windmillers have to take every chance to get out. And what a chance this was, with unseasonably warm weather and bright sunshine after days of continuously wet weather.
We sorted ourselves into two groups (roughly). Group 1; Jeremy, Rod, Keith, Nigel, MartinB, Charles and Group 2; Alan, Graham, Howard, Andrew, Brian, Rob, myself.
This turned out to be a very nice route. We are lucky to be located where we are, surrounded by beautiful countryside and quiet lanes within easy reach. Crossing the A10 twice proved to be no problem. In fact this route back through the new estate in Buntingford is worth noting.
The coffee break was at Church Farm, Ardeley. Which is well named because before cake I can cycle downhill but can ‘Ardeley get up ‘um, whereas afterwards, I’m more resilient.
November has All Saints’ Day (1st), and All Souls’ Day (2nd), and St. Martin’s Day (Martinmas, 11th), Remembrance Sunday, St. Clement’s Day (23rd), but that’s not enough is it. No, best to start celebrating Christmas, or at least paying for it, this month, as these Grinches will testify.
This being the season of magic we spent some time in the sunshine shrinking Jeremy to the size of an elf and then restoring him to normal stature. Just one of the endless ways we amuse ourselves.
Despite the shortening days, this season has its own beauty, captured this week by Graham, with his pictures of sloes, crab apples and Rowan berries pictured against the blue sky.
Having picked up Ken and Martin on route the groups reconvened for the usual meal and drinks. A good club ride, and thanks go to Rod and Alan for that. Andrew’s computer is now recuperating and normal service will be resumed I’m told.
What a head-ache things can be. Broken technology, wife needing running repairs, Christmas meals approaching. Lets hear it for “Deputy Daug”. I’m sure he will cope, he always does.
Remember the halcyon days of cycling in the UK just 14 years ago ? We had our first male grand tour winner in Chris Froome at the Vuelta 2011 (beating Bradley Wiggins’ Tour de France victory in 2012, but far less recognised because it was granted retrospectively after the ‘winner’, Cobo, was disqualified for doping offences. In the Women’s Grand Tours, Nicole Cooke had already won the Giro d’Italia Femminile in 2004). We were leading up to the golden year of 2012 with that afore mentioned win and a second place at the Tour de France and a dominant 8 gold medal haul at the London Olympics.
The future of cycling was rosy. Mere mortals could buy fantastic ‘standard’ bikes at a reasonable price and roadside maintenance had never been easier. Nearly everyone (except dyed in the wool racers) rode on 700c x 23mm or 700c x 25mm tyres with inner tubes and aluminium rims, so inner tubes could be shared between riders. The wheels could be easily removed because everyone had quick release skewers – no tools needed. Brake rubs were quickly fixed roadside, or even on the move, because we all had simple to fix rim brakes. Flaky battery and motor assisted gear changers were still a marketing executive’s wet dream. OK, we still had 9 or 10 speed chains to deal with and the myriad of bottom bracket ‘standards’ but still – relatively standard bikes.
Then progress happened: Road tyres proliferated into tubeless gunk filled and standard inner tube variants and up to 34mm wide variants. All of a sudden, tools were required to remove wheels. Wheel width options increased and carbon fibre wheels appeared alongside our old aluminium wheels, with the dreaded ‘hookless’ rims making an appearance. Disc brakes escaped from the mountain bike world to the peloton so roadside maintenance was replaced by work shop maintenance, higher bike costs and higher bike weights. Chain pitch options spiralled to the slightest-bit-of-muck disrupts-it 13 speed and chain dropping ‘one by’ options became available.
All of this means that there are far more possibilities to end up with incompatible parts on a modern bike, more things to go wrong and much lower chance that a cycling mate has the right tools, tyres or chain link in their saddle bag in order to help out during a roadside mechanical. This is significant, as will become apparent ……..
Storm Benjamin had passed and typical wet ‘n’ windy autumn weather had taken a brief hiatus for this Thursday’s ride, attracting 18 riders out for some, or all, of the route organised by Maurice from the Catherine Wheel, Arbury. Unlike one large cycling group we saw, we stuck with our usual tradition of splitting into more manageable sized groups. And so it was that three groups headed South, then East along familiar lanes enjoying the Autumn colours and clearing blue skies.
From Manuden, the course headed back North with brisk progress towards coffee at the Compass Courtyard. It was all going well. Too well.
In group 3, on the outskirts of Arkesden, Deborah had a puncture. Initially blamed on a skinny inner tube in a wide tyre, Deborah, Keith and Graham started investigation. First hurdle, an Allan key to remove the rear wheel. Tick. Then we found that the rear tyre was nearly impossible to remove from the rim. It transpired that a tyre “for hookless rims only” had been fitted by the bike shop to Deborah’s smart new hookless wheel. We managed to remove an offending thorn, but attempts to fit a new tube were thwarted by the tyres being too tight to avoid ‘pinching’ and puncturing the new inner.
Forty minutes later, Deborah had to call the long suffering rescue services (in the shape of husband, Simon) for a lift to lunch whilst Keith and Graham had to forego coffee (stopping only to make a welcome meeting with Martin W at the Compass Courtyard).
Brian led a brisk pace on the return leg in order for us to make a one o’clock lunch – unnecessary as it turned out as lunch was a little slow in arriving, although excellent when it did. A fantastic ride and an opportunity to reflect on the benefits of ‘progress’ in the cycle industry.
Keith, Graham, Geoff, Jenny, Brian, Deborah, Maurice, Martin B, Ric, Alan, Nigel, Chris, Rod, Charles, Simon, Tom, Victor (from Compass Courtyard), Ken and Martin W for coffee.
This was a fine October morning to assemble at The Three Horseshoes in Hinxworth and explore bits of three counties; Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire and Cambridgeshire.
Two groups; group1 led by Graham with Brian, Ken, Keith, Rick, Victor, me and group 2, Maurice, Andrew, Alan, Howard, Jenni and Charles
It’s strange how different counties have such different characters. Bedfordshire with it’s open vistas, with few but very fast cars. Cambridgeshire with it’s terrible road surfaces and the little inclines and pretty villages of Hertfordshire. Some of this ride was on dirt track with few dangers to find.
If there is no hazard to find then Andrew can put his mind to making some. Here one handed cycling through leaves and twigs provides just the opportunity. Thank goodness no harm was done and it simply provided a golden opportunity for Charles’s front camera. (Well done Charles).
Coffee was at Bean Theory in Waresley, so as to avoid Christmas tat at the nearby garden center, where grandparents make an early start at spoiling the grandchildren. Providing coffee in return for money isn’t enough for Bean Theory. I only want the Bean Practical bit myself, preferably in a cup. I Love the large print black&white photos here, mostly of jazz musicians.
However I think they confuse ‘Values’ with aspirations. This from their website.
But I was too busy to quiz them on it. For instance is it too fastidious to point out that to be welcoming is a behaviour not a value? Still let’s move on and forgive them for aping Americans.
Overall this was a good ride with mixed scenery, dirt tracks and minor roads and only the occasional car or agricultural truck. Not as scenic as some rides but great to see new areas and explore three counties in one day. Thanks to Graham for route planning and organization.
A good club ride planned and carried out expertly.
Well we could hear them, but low cloud to start with meant that the flights coming into Stansted from more exotic climes remained invisible to us.
This was the situation as 12 riders gathered in the morning at an old favourite; the Red Lion at Great Sampford. Maurice (sadly absent due to a virus, along with Alan) – had organised an old favourite outing on the mostly quiet lanes East of here.
Safety briefing. Listen up at the back !
Our coffee stop arrived fairly early on into the ride. Tarkas café seems to be going from strength to strength ! Always busy and always worth the sprint along the busy A1017 Braintree road in order to get there. Whilst Charles opted for his usual calorie bomb of hot chocolate (all the trimmings) and a slab of cake (coffee and wallnut), a few riders took Deb’s lead in ordering the new home made teacakes, which definitely gained an approving smile.
Calorie Bomb
We had the usual dose of “Road Closed” points, thankfully all passable by bike or on foot. Maybe the notoriously poor road and drainage by Walthams Cross will be repaired at some point ? – we live in hope ! On this ride, it was probably in as good a state as it ever is – just loose dirt and gravel at the bottom of the hill and a few wet streaks on the steep ascent away.
Obligatory Yeldham Great Oak and Windmill photos and then the, now usual, traffic chaos by the one way bridge in Great Bardfield – and we were on the home leg ! (footnote: Great Yeldham elected a communist coucillor in 1967).
The weather had cleared steadily throughout the morning and by lunchtime, it was pleasent enough to drink our beer outside. After that it was the usual excellent Italian themed food: Good quality, good value and very tasty ! An excellent end to a great ride.
Its a while since we had a puncture on a ride and it looked like this ride would go puncture free until 2km from the pub. Luckily some squirty foamy stuff Charles was carrying lasted just long enough to get Graham to the pub and a tyre change in relative comfort, pint in hand.
Sometimes, despite the most careful planning, not everything happens how you want it, that’s just life. This ride had a large section on compacted earth, the wind blew and the ride was affected by a fire on the A14, filling otherwise quite lanes with diverted traffic. The elements, earth wind and fire, seemed to conspire against us. But that’s not true of course. Actually they just doesn’t give a toss.
We set out as two groups from The George at Spaldwick. Those with racing tires and cleats soon wished they had heeded Graham’s warning of ‘delightful hard packed cycle tracks’. That description was right, but I was surprised by how steep some of the climbs were and how the wheels spun on the dust.
Jenni ascends one of the steep dirt climbs.
We suffered two early casualties when Keith’s chain decided to knot it’s self, resulting him returning to the start. Maurice likewise had to call off his ride to care further for his much loved dog.
Oh dear was this an omen? Was there further trouble ahead?
The sky was blue and the wind was strong. It was a nice day but not the easiest for cycling. The water authority has provided excellent recreational facilities; cycle paths, sailing, fishing, out-door-adventure areas and we fervently hoped A NICE CAFE.
Group 2 crosses the dam wall. Grafham wasn’t formed from a dammed river but is filled by pumping water from the Great Ouse.
Having watched three people get served over about 15 minutes in the ‘Fisherman’s Rest Cafe’ by a single, pained member of staff, the group unanimously decided there were more options at nearby Kimbolton. I was impressed with the club, making a quick decision to move on, displaying exasperation rather than any doing any complaining.
Kimbolton has a castle, well not really, it now looks like a stone manor-house complex and houses a private school. Catherine of Aragon, Henry VIII’s first wife, was sent to the castle here in 1534, and died a little less than two years later. The school does not encourage photos Rob learned. Maybe comparison with state schools, with their RAAC concrete, rather than honey-coloured ancient stone, is unwanted while the need for a 20% VAT reduction is debated.
The church is also fine, with marvelous stain-glass windows and fascinating woodwork.
St George. But the dragon is a bit deminuative I think.
All very nice. But where is the coffee shop? At last all was well and the half-time drinks were only slightly delayed.
The second half of the ride was planned to be through quiet country lanes. But it wasn’t to be. A fire on the A14 had displaced large amounts of traffic off the main road, turning the lanes into long queues of anxious drivers, with people racing down others in an effort to make it to their appointments on time.
Exactly how farming in the UK has developed with all the arable in the east and all dairy in the west, necessitating driving large quantities of dried grasses from east to west, will have to wait until another blog. If you wanted a better example of overly-cheap oil distorting a market economy, it would be difficult to find one. Roll on a revamp of UK farming I say.
So a lovely ride in beautiful autumn conditions, slightly ambushed by the elements of earth, wind and fire. Still what can one do?
Go back to pub I suppose and very nice it was too.
Back together Graham, Martin, MartinB, Brian, myself, Rod, Jenni, Andrew, Rob, Deborah and Alan, reunited for a beer in the warm sunshine. A happy ending to another adventure. Keith and Maurice only score half points, too bad, because despite careful planning you know stuff happens. Better luck next time.
Arriving by train, visitors to Cambridge are confronted with Ariadne Wrapped, an artwork commissioned to grace the new station forecourt. According to sculptor Gavin Turk, the mythical Ariadne is,
‘. . . presented as a packaged shape forever in transportation, informed by the sound of the train the parcel lies in limbo. The criss-cross of ropes and string act like compositional or navigation lines, pointers to new perspectives.‘
Chris and Jenni weren’t impressed
The general consensus among Windmillers was that it was a monstrosity, best replaced by a statue honoring a Cambridge worthy, say Stephen Hawking or suchlike.
Following last week’s hilly ride in North Herts, Brian – this week’s leader – had opted for a flatter ride around South Cambs and, having set off earlier from Little Shelford our first port of call was Cambridge Station.
From there we wound our way along quiet backstreets to the riverside and thence some five miles along the towpath to Waterbeach. This idyllic stretch of the River Cam is particularly peaceful just now as the section between Cambridge and Milton has been shut to boat traffic for the past year. Inspection of the locks at each end has shown the lock islands to be unstable and vulnerable to collapse. Both carry public footpaths over the river and they too have been closed.
Jesus Green lock in Cambridge – closed until further notice
We witnessed some of the short term stabilisation currently underway – see Simon’s pictures below – but the locks are likely to remain closed until the lock islands are rebuilt at a cost of £25M and, as yet, no-one seems prepared to stump up the money. Meanwhile, visitors are unable to reach Cambridge by boat, indeed many boats are stranded on the river and some owners have taken to craning their vessels out in order to leave. The situation seems to be stalemate.
Simon snapped these divers engaged in remedial work on the Baits Bite Lock
Arriving in Waterbeach Brian had arranged for us to visit the Military Heritage Museum on the site of the wartime RAF airfield and subsequently barracks for the Royal Engineers. The base was decommissioned in 2013 and is now a development site for the planned Waterbeach Newtown and it’s 11,000 new homes.
Simon loves museums and, as you can see below, he got very hands-on with the exhibits. We won’t be taking him to glassware museums or maternity wards anytime soon.
Mind what you do with that, Simon
Leaving the museum we headed half a mile further down the road and pulled in for refreshments at the Evolve Coffee Shop & Bar. Refreshed and back on the bikes, we headed for Landbeach where we picked up the Mere Way, a new and very wide cycleway, taking us back to Cambridge. Come the new year this will be extended all the way to Waterbeach where the new cycle bridge spanning the A10 has recently been lifted into position. We must plan a ride in the spring to try it out.
The A10 cyclebridge at Waterbridge being lifted into position on 21 September
Returning to Little Shelford, we piled back into the Side Quest for a well deserved lunch.
For the record, 14 riders completed a 26 mile circuit: Alan, Andrew, Brian, Chris, Deborah, Geoff, Jenni, Keith, MartinB, Nigel, Rach, Ric, Rod, Simon.
This Thursday’s ride from The Cock Inn at Broom was combined with the chance to watch the Lloyds Tour of Britain 2025, men’s race, stage 3.
Excellent planning by Graham had placed us at the pub in Broom at 1o’clock to see the race go by right at the end of the street and then again nearer Northill, with the race going around the loop above. We were able to sample some of the excitement, passing infrastructure prepared for the race, also by being able to cycle the ‘King of the Hill’ part of the circuit (downwards) and passing cycling-fans who had camped roadside preparing for a good view. A good view of the race that was, not of a Windmill Club ride, which is not yet a popular spectator sport. They looked slightly confused, checked their watches, but our ride was shorter, 75% sorter and quite a bit slower, just under half their average speed actually.
Still, I suppose they didn’t stop for coffee, talk to their friends and finish with beer and sausages. More fool them is all I can say.
It’s hard to credit how quiet the roads are in this area, having got there on bits of the A505 and A1 I had my doubts. Once underway I really enjoyed the ride, especially with much of it off-road and along the river, via Newnham and Willington.
Coffee was at Danish Camp, a log cabin and river boating center. The story goes that the site was constructed by the Danish Viking leader Hastein. It’s true that the upper course of the Great Ouse marked the boundary between English territory and that of Danelaw in the year 884.
The Danes (Aka Vikings) had been making a nuisance of themselves for a few hundred years and had taken much of the eastern part of the country. I know, they say “something is rotten in the state of Denmark”, the populations of Greenland and the Faroe Islands might agree with this even today. But with respect to this site, I’m sorry to inform you that this history is rubbish.
Perchance made up for the tourists?
Serious dating performed by archeologists and reported in Bedfordshire government archives shows human habitation at the site starting from around 1100.
Still it’s a family run business, so who can blame them. And the coffee and cakes were good.
Back at the pub we enjoyed the authentic (c1830) interior and the variety of beers. The pub has won a number of awards ‘Rural Pub of the Year’ and ‘Bedfordshire’s best Pub 2025’. It’s famous for having no bar but barrels in the cellar.
We were back in plenty of time to see the race whizz by. I was halfway though lunch so missed some of it, though one has to get one’s priorities right. I cycled with Rod to catch them 2nd time round, but we missed that as well, so some improvement in cycle viewing is possible on my part.
I was prompted to dwell on why road racing isn’t as popular a spectator sport in the UK as on the continent. This despite considerable UK success in professional races, including this one. Those interested might read this rather thoughtful article
Too much focus on the elite end of the sport, lack of free-to-air viewing, resistance to events by local authorities/police/motorists, limited diversity by ethnicity/age/gender etc, there are a few problems. Myself, I felt the inability to stay in one spot to see the sport happen was the greatest limitation. I can more easily imagine going to a cycle drome or even cyclocross, where you can see much of the course from a single spot. It’s a shame though since road cycling has led the way in the development of data analytics, biomechanics, innovations in sporting equipment and safety gear. The best people in the sport are undoubtably amongst the fittest people in any sport. On the other hand it also has a venerable history in drug use and doping.
A memorable ride and thanks go to Graham. For the record Rach, Rob, Graham, Rod, Nigel, Alan, Brian, Jeremy and myself rode.
Nigel bought birthday drinks and received the usual rendition. Andrew failed to make it, but wishes he had, having seen the price of a new tire on a Range Rover. Ken made it to lunch. A very enjoyable ride where the threatened rain never materialized. We got away with it again.
Time For A Quickie. A phrase which could have appeared on one of the many witty signs adorning Petals Cafe (although we didn’t see this particular one). Titter ye not ! This is not a smutty innuendo but a commentary on the speed at which this particular ride was conducted (at least by group 2 on the road, pulled along by Geoff’s battery power). Maybe the increasing probability of rain in the afternoon was acting as a spur ?
Victor had organised this ride, starting and finishing at the Three Horseshoes, Helions Bumpstead. A pub with a massive garden area, a good selection of ales and fishfinger sandwiches.
Although touching on many familiar roads, this was a new course for me. And very pleasant it was too, swapping back and forth between rural Essex and rural Suffolk (the three counties border with Cambridgeshire being slightly North of Helions Bumpstead and not on route).
After coffee at the pub, two groups headed South towards Finchingfield, passing Jamie’s mansion en route. We didn’t go into Finchingfield on this ride, however.
Passing Wethersfield Airfield on the right, originally an RAF station, the site was later used as the headquarters and training centre of the Ministry of Defence Police until 2022. It is now used for asylum accomodation. Soon after we passed the grade two listed 1869 windmill at Gainsford End, now a house and without sails.
Community pub, The Green Man, and taking a breather
At Toppersfield, group two had caught up with group one (time for a quickie, remember ?) so we paused for photos outside the Green Man community pub to restablish a respectable gap.
PetalsMore Petals
Very soon we encountered the busy A1017 and a short sprint up to the splendid and quirky Petals Tearoom and its aforementioned collection of witty signage. Excellent cakes, too.
Soon off the main road, at Tilbury juxta Clare, we turned into the brisk breeze for our return to Helions Bumpstead.
Cloud Streets
My meteorology is not great, but I think the splendid cloud formations we were treated to were Cloud Streets. Cloud streets are long rows of cumulus clouds that are oriented parallel to the direction of the wind. Their technical name is ‘Horizontal Convective Rolls’. Typically, they form straight rows, but when the wind driving the clouds hits an obstacle, the clouds might curl into patterns and become von Kármán vortex streets. So now you know.
Lunch under the big sun shade
If anything the pace picked up further (or maybe it was just the head wind ?) and by the time we arrived back at the pub, we were all together as one group and thirsty. The forecast rain didn’t materialise (at least not until much later when all riders were safely home), so luncheon was taken on the patio under the biggest sun shade possible. Sadly no birthdays this week.
Helions Bumpstead church (part thereof)
Thanks to Victor for a great route.
Geoff, Rod, Alan, Rob, Rik, Keith, Graham, Simon,Victor, Andrew, Martin B, Nigel, Howard, Jeremy
When people ask where the Windmill Club is based, there isn’t really a simple answer. With members scattered over a wide rural area we don’t so much have a home base as a home patch straddling the Cambridgeshire / Hertfordshire / Essex borders and roughly bounded by Royston, Baldock, Stevenage, Bishops Stortford and Saffron Walden. But now it seems a name has been given to this particular neck of the woods – The Barleywolds.
I can find no mention of the name in the historical records but there is a newish website – barleywolds.com – making the case for this “. . . area of wolds (gently-rolling hills) and 60 villages, about 30 miles north of London, between Royston, Stevenage and Bishop’s Stortford, on the border of Hertfordshire, Essex and Cambridgeshire”.
While Barleywolds has a certain ring to it, academic opinion would seem to favour The Hundred Parishes, so named by David Heathcote, Saffron Walden historian and author who coined that name in 2009, as defining “a large, attractive, gently-undulating area, around 450 square miles, of northwest Essex, northeast Hertfordshire and southern Cambridgeshire that is largely unspoilt and is richly endowed with many fine examples of agricultural and built heritage.” Indeed, two years ago the Windmillers enjoyed a presentation from the Hundred Parishes Society.
Whatever the name, this was the area Keith chose for Thursday’s outing. Setting out from The Black Horse, Brent Pelham, he led the way along quiet roads and the occasional bumpy track to Ermine’s Café, Thundridge, a new (to us) venue and, given the high standard of refreshments on offer, we are likely to return in the not too distant future.
32 miles anticlockwise from Brent Pelham
Thanks go to Keith for planning the outing and getting us all organised.
For the record our peloton comprised: Alan, Brian, Geoff, Graham, Jeremy, Keith, Ken, MartinB, Paul, Ric, Rod, Simon and Tom.
Its not often that birthday drinks are so far removed in time from the actual birthday that a rendition of “Happy Birthday to you” felt too embarrassing to sing, even for the normally vocal (but musically challenged) Windmill club. That obviously didn’t stop us drinking the beer that Simon had kindly bought us at the Crown at Hartest, though. And very nice beer it was too. Brewed at the Crown’s own Brewshed Brewery, the unfashionably dark best beer was going down particularly well.
But that was later. Firstly, sixteen of us had Keith’s fantastic Suffolk lanes tour to ride.
Leafy Suffolk Lanes
Setting off in three unusually well organised groups, we cunningly outflanked Hartest Hill (claimed to be the steepest hill in Suffolk, who are we to argue ?) and headed out towards Stanningfield before heading for Cockfield.
Cockfield will be featured in the Men’s Tour of Britain stage 2 next month.
The tour has a strong field with top stars like Remco Evanaepol and Gerraint Thomas featuring, amongst others. There is no mention on their route of either our Cafe Como coffee stop or the Crown, however. Their loss.
Brent Eleigh
From Cockfield, we skirted around Lavenham, with its prominent church tower visible from miles around. Not for us today, Lavenham ! Instead we headed for the hamlet of Brent Eleigh and the fantastic cyclist’s destination cafe of Cafe Como. Homemade cakes to die for, all in the wonderful sunny garden !
Maurice behaving like a teenager at Cafe ComoCoffee in the sunshine
Reluctantly, we eventually had to leave, picking up a headwind on the way to Acton, then skirting the West side of Lavenham before arriving at the top of the aforementioned Hartest Hill and a fast plummet straight to the pub. Drinks outside, but too many wasps for us to eat in the immaculate garden. Instead, we tucked into sandwiches and beer inside whilst admiring the real linen napkins. A great day for a great ride.
Windmillers pride themselves on being courteous and proficient cyclists. Alas, their table manners can be, well, rudimentary with dining mishaps legion and well documented; witness Simon throwing beer around and Martin sousing everyone in hot coffee. But this week it was Victor’s turn as he demonstrated a whole new way to dispense ketchup by smashing the bottom end out of the bottle; an effective, albeit messy, technique and fellow diners are advised to probe their lunch for glass shards.
More ketchup, Victor?
So it was just as well that, mindful of landlady Mel’s carpets, curtains and soft furnishings, we were dining al fresco at The Cock in Henham. Ketchup capers aside, we enjoyed an excellent lunch and Andrew, whose birthday passed quietly several weeks ago, finally bought us all a beer.
Andrew, top chap, conducted the choir in a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday
All this followed a very enjoyable ride. Planned and led by Graham, it was scenic, quiet (apart from the occasional Ryanair approach to Stansted) and traffic-free with a mid-way coffee stop at NT Hatfield Forest.
Photo courtesy: Graham
Many thanks, Graham, for devising such a lovely route and getting everyone organised. Our thanks also to Andrew for the drinks.
For the record the turnout was: Alan, Andrew, Brian, Deb, Geoff, Graham, Jenni, Paul, Simon and Victor.
Always a popular ride this one despite being a full day out and 43 miles, most of which can’t be done at full speed, because it is along canal tow paths or through very urban spaces. I was pleased to see the club acquit themselves well, giving other path-users plenty of space and friendly thanks. We pride ourselves on being a polite club and I was glad to see high standards upheld on this ride, despite some difficult conditions.
The group contained new members (Rob) and those that hadn’t done it before, like Rach. The weather wasn’t great, especially for the return leg, but I hope they enjoyed the ride as much as the regular ‘crew’.
As usual we assembled at the Lee Valley White Water Centre. E-bikes and Brian formed the first group (Charles, Martin, Rod, Maurice, Brian). The rest; Rach, Victor, (new)Rob, Graham, Andrew, Tom, Paul, Deborah, Howard, Rick and Me were meant to form two more groups, but counting and organising proved too much of a challenge without the ever-patient guidance of Brian, the trip organiser. However, Brian had left us both a route and a plan. They are both useful things we found.
The route.
The plan.
This was for the e-bikes and Brian to take the Silver Town Tunnel Shuttle Bus and the rest of us to take the cable car, pardon me, the ‘IFS Cloud Cable Car’, because e-bikes are regarded as too self-combustible to be transported by cable car.
You see it’s better for bikes to catch fire inside a tunnel, inside an electric bus. A bus with a much bigger electric battery, along with other people, who also have combustible e-bikes. Together with an innocent driver, on minimum wage, dressed in an inflammable nylon uniform. You see not enough poor people have been set on fire by rich London boroughs, since Grenfell.
No seriously, the point is in a tunnel, any fire will be out of sight. Where people can’t take photos of burning cable cars with ‘IFS – Solutions for Every Industry’ posters in the background.
The bus driver does look a little bit nervous in this photo. Still who can blame her with all those bikes, bikers and the prospect of another trip through the tunnel ahead. Meanwhile we enjoyed ourselves on the cable car.
When a river crossing at this point was first proposed, in 1998, it had to be ready for the year 2000 celebrations. Sustrans suggested a walking and cycling bridge. But Sustrans is a charity, with the slogan ‘liveable cities and towns for everyone’ so they were ignored. Instead, and I’m not making this up, it was decided that London commuters would ‘flock to’ a cable car. The then London Council insisted that, whatever link was created, the journey must be payable by Oyster Card, so as to make it available to ordinary Londoners. After an 11-year delay and 10-fold increase in cost, to £60 million, the cable car was just about open, ready for the Olympics in 2012. After the games, commuters only flocked to it in a limited way. Oster Card data showed that 16 people a week used it for commuting.
At exactly 1000 meters the cable car looks excellent value at £60K per meter against HS2 at £295K per meter, the latter without including the cost of the proposed Euston terminus.
As always it was good to see Charles on this ride, dressed in his inimitable style. Behind him you can see a silver Rolls Royce (center left) waiting for an ordinary Londoner who has commuted to work by cable car. Just like Boris predicted they would after the Olympics. I missed my cup of coffee getting that photo you know.
Lunch at Greenwich’s Trafalgar Inn provoked some controversy. With beer (and cider) at that price, that was inevitable. Brian, with supercharged diplomatic skills, eased the club into an early lunch rather than forging on to later venues. His next challenge will be a negotiated peace in Gaza.
Nelson had abjured naval power for flower-power and Howard had brought a map in the unlikely event that he got lost.
The route along the south bank is complex and we had some problems keeping the group together. Crossing Tower bridge was as exciting/scary as ever.
With the crowds of tourists, crawling traffic, noise and rapidly worsening weather it was a relief to drop down to the Limehouse Basin. Unfortunately Rach and Graham go split off at this point. And the rain became increasingly yuk.
Some of the infrastructure in London is incredible. One example is Bow Locks. Rather than have some e-bikers dismount, other club members pushed them up the ramp. Anyway everyone go to the top safe and sound in the end. Good club effort.
To be honest the route home was a challenge, with cold rain, greasy cobbles, puddles and grit. Non of this dampened the good spirits of some of the group who still found time to encourage young cyclists along the way to continue enjoying their riding.
I suppose a cycle is what you make it. You can always ignore the weather, spread your love of riding and just hope for a drier, warmer day tomorrow. This Maurice has truly mastered.
Special thanks go to Brian for organizing this one and navigating the difficulties along the way with aplomb. I enjoyed it in a slightly masochistic way, but then nobody can control the weather. Onwards and upwards.
Normal for Norfolk seems to include wonderful hospitality, endless sunshine (judging by Roger’s suntan), and eating delicious croissants and pastries for breakfast. Such was our introduction to what proved to be a bootiful day in Norfolk courtesy of Roger and Geraldine who greeted us at their smart new abode in Shereford just outside Fakenham followed by a magnificent route around Norfolk lanes created by Keith and Roger, before lunch at the nearby Sculthorpe Mill Hotel and Restaurant.
Besides Roger and Keith, the other Windmillers taking part were Maurice, David, Andrew, Howard, Graham, Brian, Simon, Deborah and yours truly, making 11 in all. We had a guest for the day too, Michael, a cycling mate of Roger who lives in North Walsham. Setting off in two groups in an anti-clockwise direction, it wasn’t long before we came across the village of Fulmodeston. Easy to pronounce, eh? Not for us Southerners I’m afraid. Howard had warned me about this place in advance and even stopped to ask an elderly couple how they pronounced it – Normal for Norfolk is FULLmuhst’n, it seems, although the couple said the Parish Council were still arguing as to whether the spelling should be Fulmodestone. We’re all aware of Narch for Norwich but for a full list of place names and how to pronounce them see here: https://www.visitnorfolk.co.uk/post/norfolk-dialect-or-how-to-pronounce-wymondham-and-happisburgh
And if you really want to talk proper Norfolk, such as ‘Oid loike a bear’ – translated as ‘I say good man, I wonder if you could pour me a pint of ale’, or ‘Orm guhha roide moi boike dana Carra Ruhd’ – ‘I am going to ride my bicycle to Norwich City’s football stadium’, then look no further than here: https://www.visitnorfolk.co.uk/post/how-to-speak-norfolk-larn-yew-norfolk
Howard also said there were over 1,000 medieval churches in Norfolk, the most in any county in England. We saw a good few on the way:
Keith, Brian, Graham, Simon and Andrew outside FULLmuhst’n church
Not long afterwards my very own church, St Martin’s, came into view in the pretty village of Hindringham:
A whiff of the sea meant we were nearing the scandal ridden Binham Priory which was an impressive sight to behold after coming round a bend:
The first view of Binham Priory
Coffee was had at an excellent café in the grounds of the Priory after which those interested in taking a look at the remains and going inside the church spent an interesting 15 minutes soaking up as much information as possible in the time.
Scandal mongering monks Andrew, Keith and Simon repent their sins
Binham Priory was founded in 1091 and was home to a Benedictine community of monks for over 400 years. Its history is one of almost continuous scandal. Many of its priors proved to be unscrupulous and irresponsible, and by the time of the priory’s suppression in 1539 the community had been reduced to just six monks. The nave of the priory church, with its striking 13th-century west front, remains in use as the local parish church. And who should be buried in the graveyard but none other than Roger Law, one of the creators of Spitting Image:
It wasn’t long before we reached Wells-next-the-Sea which brought back fond memories of previous Windmill rides and in particular a two day trip from Thetford to Kings Lynn which involved those taking part staying the night on the good ship Albatros, owned by an eccentic Dutch sea captain who served good beer and pancakes but awful below deck accommodation. Sandra who was with us wisely chose a comfortable nearby b&b.
Once again, it was high tide and it was great to see fishing boats moored at the quayside offering fresh lobsters and mackerel for sale. Andrew bought some whelks (sea bogies as he calls them) for immediate consumption, Keith bought a crab to take home and Simon bought a stick of Wells rock.
The route then took us from Wells directly into the grounds of Holkham Hall and then out through the back gate, a distance of around 3 miles in total:
Cycling through the peaceful grounds of Holkham Hall
A Roman road led us almost directly to the lunch stop at Sculthorpe Mill where it was good to be joined by Geraldine, who had whizzed down the lane on her e-bike, and Lisa who was picking up Howard after their stay in Norfolk. The restaurant is in a very scenic spot and a good lunch was had by all.
Lunch at Sculthorpe Mill
Special mention must be made of a phenomenal two day journey by Graham to attend this ride, staying in Fakenham overnight and clocking up over 200 miles in the process. Well done!
Graham about to depart back to Ickleton , and a summary of part of his 200 mile trip
Huge thanks go to Roger, Geraldine and Keith for planning and organising such a good Windmill day, and to the photographers. A day to remember.
All th riders rode to the start of the ride for maximum green credentials.
A first visit for many to the now community owned Lion at Ickleton.
A few Windmill stalwarts were away this week including a party busy fostering Anglo French relations in Normandie and there was a hole in Thursday fixture list. Step forward Ken, who proposed a slightly shorter ride (ostensibly to encourage people away from their e bikes), starting at Graham’s for morning coffee and finishing at the Lion at Ickleton for lunch – no coffee stop planned.
Six riders rolled up to Graham’s for a leisurely 11.00 start – all commendably arriving under their own steam on their normal bikes (OK I didn’t have to roll very far). Although a little breezy, it was bright and not too hot which was just as well because, although short, this was not a flat ride !
First hill right from the start, up the very worn looking Coploe Road, with magnificent views opening up once the top is crested. From there past the notorious Strethall crossroads (with, it should be noted, bright new “Give Way” markings in place after a number of nasty accidents).
Up and down past Littlebury Green, Duddenhoe End and Arkesden. From there, over to Clavering and then the familiar but ever popular stretch through Langley Lower Green (where Ken left for a more direct route to the Lion but picking up Gareth for a short period on the way), to Little Chishill and Shaftenhoe End. Here Gareth also departed, leaving the rest of us to wind our way up to Great Chishill, then Elmdon and home.
The Lion has only just re opened after an extensive effort by Ickleton village to buy and save the pub. Three ales were on offer, plus simple but inexpensive lunchtime sandwich options. Hazel dropped in to say “hi !”.
The ride length was 39km but clocked up 444m of ascent in the process.
Ken, Graham, Ric, Rach, Simon, Howard (Gareth for a short part of the ride, Hazel joined us at lunch)
A first for the club – a 100 mile ride to test Windmiller’s mettle. The route, meticulously planned by Graham, started and finished at his home in Ickleton. It provided 3 new coffee stops together with intermediate-length rides that gave easy access to trains to return home. The route also cunningly got the hills out of the way before the first coffee stop, whilst our legs were fresh.
Ken and Bill and Ben came to see us off
On top of that, to spur everyone on their way, Graham provided what, for some, was a second breakfast – tea, coffee, sausage or bacon and egg rolls; and Ken came to wave us off and provide moral support.
At 08.40 eight now-satiated riders started: Graham, Ric, Jeremy, Alan and Victor who planned ‘to go all the way’; Martin W, Keith and Paul who planned to do the first section of the route, to La Hogue farm shop.
Arriving at La HogueStill smiling. Only 75 miles to go.
The day was fine, the sun was hot and, mindful of the distance, the initial pace was gentle. There were also stops to remove layers and Keith had a couple of nasty chain-offs. At the second of these Graham, Ric, Jeremy, Alan and Victor had to press on, leaving Martin and Paul to help Keith restore his mechanicals. They caught up at La Hogue, where Charles, bless him, had brought his car to give lifts home. What a star!
The sensible alternative to riding the whole distance
After that, for the remainers, it was pancake flat all the way to Welney Wetlands centre. A SW breeze helped us cruise easily through Chippenham, Isleham and Prickwillow before riding along Bank beside the River Ouse on Branch Bank to Littleport and then on 10 Mile Bank towards Welney. People say they love the “big horizons” of the Fens. And indeed it is lovely on a sunny day. But there’s little tree or hedge cover and it must be bleak in winter!
Welney Wetlands cafe
Welney Wetlands covers 1,000 acres of the northernmost part of the Ouse Washes. It is Britain’s largest area of seasonally-flooded land. In winter, thousands of wild ducks, swans and geese gather here. It is one of several wetlands being developed in the Fens, including Wicken, Lakenheath, Chippenham Fens and will be soon joined by ‘The Great Fen’. A visitor centre at Welney was opened in 2006 and, importantly, includes a café where we could take our lunch.
Applejacks at Wilburton
Coming back, that pesky SW breeze opposed us, but taking the front in rotation gave surprisingly effective shelter most of the time. The Hundred Foot Bank beside New Bedford River took us to Pymoor. Then, with the wind turning to W, a bit of jiggling about on winding fen roads took us to Coveney, Wentworth and final coffee stop at Twenty Pence Garden Centre, Wilburton. If anything, our pace increased as we headed for home via Cottenham, Oakington, Madingley, Comberton and Harston. Back at 18.15 with no more mechanicals, no dramas, having just had a great ride.
Post-ride, Maurice and David joined Graham, Julia, Victor and Alan for a celebratory dinner at The Red Lion, Hinxton.
With thanks to Victor for this blog and added kudos for having ridden to and from the start / end. Thanks to Maurice for his generous donation to the club’s charity collection.
Sing a Song of Sixpence, a short story by Agatha Christie or a number of other books. Take your pick. We were only interested in three blackbirds, though; The Three Blackbirds inn at Woodditton to be precise where 12 riders gathered on a very fine morning for coffee (for which Rod somehow managed to foot the whole bill).
Simon’s route soon took us on a dead end road towards Dullingham Ley where we encountered the most traffic of the day (one delivery truck, two cars) before heading over a stretch of byway to Burrough Green (would have been fun if wet !).
Great lanes and onto one of our regular stops at Cafe 33. A short detour was required from the main route to get there, safely negotiated by the second group on the road but somehow missed by group 1 (the one with the route planner in it). Such was the temperature, teas and coffees were substituted for cold cans from the fridge.
Some more fantastic roads took us to the steady hill between Dalham and Gazely which always feels tougher than its modest elevation would suggest. Also included on the route was the much photographed Moulton pack horse bridge.
From there, back to the Three Blackbirds where Geoff was kindly buying birthday beers (which I had to miss – ouch)
Rod, Martin, Simon, Keith, Maurice, Graham, Victor, Alan, Geoff, Howard, Jeremy, Paul (Ken for half the ride and lunch)
It started at the Red Cow in Chrishall with a simple request for a fish finger sandwich.
Red Cow staff “We only do things that are on the menu”.
Martin2 “OK give me a pen and I’ll write it on the menu”.
The riff came to my mind, “You can’t always get want”, from the Rolling Stones. Something in Mick Jagger’s demeanor however suggests to me that he lacks something more significant to him than a fish finger sandwich. Perhaps its a prescient commentary on pre-Thatcherite Britain. Or maybe Mr Jagger was referring to the human condition and some deeper desire for “Satisfaction” with life in general.
At the Red Cow it transpires that there is a menu, also a specials menu and then rising into the stratosphere of attempts at “customer satisfaction”, a special by pre-order only menu, whereupon one can obtain fish finger sandwiches. So, there you go, next time we can take full advantage of the service available and obtain true ‘Satisfaction’ at The Red Cow.
It was a very nice morning. The pub looked splendid in the summer sunshine.
We split into two groups of 6. Myself, Rod, Andrew, Gareth, Martin and Martin2. Group 2 Graham, Geoff, Nigel, Rick, Alan, Maurice. We were slightly delayed by bumping into two old friends of the club, Simon and Oli, former owners of the Windmill Pub in Great Chishill, the club’s spiritual home.
The route was approximately as shown.
The ride proceeded uneventfully enough. Only Andrew being a little delayed by catching a shoelace in his chain and Martin having some problem with ‘the master controller’ on his bike. Apparently, the more important the gadget, the smaller the electrical contacts.
We approached the coffee shop half way round with some trepidation.
In the past Poppy’s Barn had solved the conundrum of providing “customer satisfaction” by the simple expedient of stopping customers coming in. This applied especially to cyclists. Most especially to cyclists who complain, so we have avoided the place for around a year. Rod had decided to let “bygones be bygones” and give it another go. An appointment was duly made. The staff raised the Union Jack and put away the Swastika and the Jolly Roger, which they carefully folded-up and put in a drawer. The Bolshe proprietor had returned from his ‘customer satisfaction’ course transformed into a modern version of Uriah Heep.
“Oh, would you like coffee Sir. Myself and Mrs. Heep have looked forward to this, Sir, a long while. We had fears that our ‘umbleness stood in the way. ‘Umble we are, ‘umble we have been, ‘umble we shall ever be.”
“Oh, and cake Sir! You do us a great honour. I shall ask Mrs Heep to transport some of her very finest morsels from our ‘umble kitchen to here, for you, for your immediate delectation.”
My cake and coffee was well over £8. But of course I didn’t complain. Martin says his scrambled egg(?) was excellent and that its good to know that the free range, organic roosters will sup champagne and dine in style this summer eve, having provided such excellent service.
I should warn the rock fans among you that not all music has aged as well as the lyrics of Jagger and Richards. Old fans of Uriah Heep please take note.
The highlight of the 2nd leg was cycling past the Wenden’s Ambo nuclear missile silo.
The first I heard of it was Andrew saying, “in that window there it says, this house contains nuts”. Indeed, the village has gone nuts, though I am told that their negotiations will Moscow, concerning arms reduction, is going well. Early attempts at warhead generation has led to some radioactive contamination in the area and one of the resulting, huge, yellow snails was spotted at the level crossing.
Perhaps, like in the Cuban missiles, this missile too will soon be decommissioned, and I hope that I will be able to report progress in future blogs.
More immediately we noted the availability of a station mistress.
It’s good to know that even British Rail are getting more focused on ‘customer satisfaction’. I wondered if she will accept my pensioner’s rail card.
The final piece of ‘off road’ was a cool, green tunnel against the rising heat of midday and seemed designed to remind us how lucky we are to have all this excellent cycling so close by.
Thanks go to Rod for organising and re-trying some of our old haunts. Also, to Graham who celebrated his birthday and bought the beer. It was good to see Ken upon our return though this week he couldn’t quite make the cycling. Half marks, should try harder.
The Windmill Cycle Club 