Category: Uncategorized

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

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.

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.

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.

This is where we went:

Martin W

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.

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.

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.

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.

“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.

Food and beer back at the Bull were as good as anticipated, where we were joined for lunch by Martin W and Andrew.

Simon, Alan, Deborah, Tom, Paul, Graham, Charles, Keith, Rod, Victor, Howard, Jeremy.

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.

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.

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.

Andrew, Howard, Victor, Brian, Ric, Simon, Keith, Deborah, Geoff, Simon, Charles, Graham.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

https://rijden.uk/blog/is-british-cycle-sport-dying/

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Thanks to Victor for a great route.

Geoff, Rod, Alan, Rob, Rik, Keith, Graham, Simon,Victor, Andrew, Martin B, Nigel, Howard, Jeremy

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.

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.

https://www.britishcycling.org.uk/tourofbritain/article/20250806-tour-of-britain-Stage-Routes-Announced-For-Lloyds-Tour-of-Britain-Men-0

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.

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 !

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.

Rach, Simon, Maurice, Howard, Keith, Alan, Norfolk Roger, Neil, Andrew, Graham, Brian, Geoff, Ken, Rod, Rob, Paul.

Oh yes, it’s that time of year again.

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:

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:

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.

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.

This is where we went:

Martin

Three firsts in a week (possibly) !

• All riders were on normally aspirated road bike.
• 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)