Category: Uncategorized

A rather late Blog of our 10 October ride, but better late than never. 5 Windmillers, Victor, Simon, Nick, Alan and myself, left the Red Cow on a sunny but breezy autumnal afternoon at the earlier hour of 15:30. It was a good ride with no delays and after the drought through the summer, recent rain has saved next years harvest with many fields showing good growth of new shoots. It always amazes me to see the neat lines of shoots with almost no gaps, although I’m informed that an 80 to 85% germination is usually expected. If only my seed sewing was as successful.

Taking advantage of the Roman’s gift of road building we skirted the Langleys to follow the Roman road from Butts Green past Cooper’s End onto the road to Duddenhoe End. We owe many of our local roads and settlements to the Romans and we should be grateful. Although at times I think many of our local roads last saw a new surface when the Romans were here.

Nick soon peeled off to return to Meesden and Alan for Great Chishill, leaving just Simon, Victor and myself to enjoy a pint, chat and some bar refreshments back at the Rec Cow. All in all a nice day. 20 miles.

This Thursday saw a beautiful ride from one of our favourite restaurants, The Red Lion at Great Sampford, anticlockwise round this course via Castle Hedingham and back. It was completed by eleven riders.

My day started badly when I put some more air in the tyre, only for it to explode like the crack of a whip, taking the tyre off the rim. I received excellent help from Howard and Alan and was soon back in action. This was just as well since as organizer, I had a number of jobs to do.

It is difficult after many days of mourning and, when an army of journalist and commentators have said so much, for me to say anything new concerning the passing of The Queen.

Nonetheless I will try.

Even those with doubts about the institution of monarchy, with its imperialist overtones, detected considerable virtue in the late Queen. These are the enduring virtues of faith, hope and charity. Other attributes are sometimes admired in modern times, such as great beauty or intellect, riches or sporting prowess, but there is no excuse for us being distracted. The first two are mere accidents of birth, one fleeting the other usable for good or ill. Riches are rarely a measure of person’s quality. After all King Salman is rich, but he is an unlikely role-model. Likewise, we know that someone can be the greatest player in the world one day and a retiree with bad knees the next.

So, we return to the enduring virtues. Faith, adherence to one of the great faiths or the belief that life is better lived when guided by principles and circumscribed by restraints. This was clearly at the centre of The Queen’s life. Hope is so valued because it is infinitely preferable to despair. It gives the strength to move forward in faith, towards trying to create a better world. She was often a source of hope in difficult times. Her charitable efforts were focussed on The Commonwealth. This works for good governance and the elimination of corruption in many of the world’s poorest nations, also in the fight against poverty, ignorance, and disease.

Of course, we know intuitively that more is required in living a ‘good life’ than the avoidance of sin. Pray silence while we name the seven deadly sins in order that they may be recognised. They are; greed, gluttony, idleness, envy, pride, lust and wrath. No, a person is also required to display positive attributes and behaviours as well. For guidance these were identified in ancient times as; courage, truthfulness, the advocacy of fairness, modesty, friendliness, generosity, patience and the lack of self-indulgence. So, there we have it, enough on virtue. At least now we know how to recognise it, maybe we can attempt a little. But carefully and on a small scale.

We set off in two groups. Now, in the middle of September, the start was chilly but things had warmed up by the time we arrived at The Moot House in Castle Hedingham. Here the two groups interacted over the customary coffee and cakes.

There followed some discussion of current ailments. Though, in fact, anyone present would likely be classified as ‘worried well’ by their doctors. Long may that continue. Several members are so comforted by their regular ingestion of statins that they have decided to demonstrate the effectiveness of this wonderful treatment using jam, cream, butter and scones.

The first group made off, while the second visited St. Nicholas Church. This is a beautiful building and we thought how nice it would be on another trip, to climb the tower.

This route, designed by Maurice, took in some exceptionally quite lanes and pretty villages. We were soon back at the pub. Maurice was there to greet us. The food was excellent (again) as was the welcome and organisation.

Another great day out with the club for which we are all so grateful. It only remains for me to follow club tradition when a new monarch is appointed and exclaim;

God save the King!

Also, our precious planet, the National Institutions which give our lives some continuity and predictability. Also our intersecting circles of family and friends, who are always in our thoughts.

Yes, this Monday saw Alan guide us expertly around another course which he had devised. Meanwhile in Westminster we saw the installation of another (expert?) leader, who we hope proves similarly effective at devising a course towards the desired objectives.

‘Course’, of course, is a word with rather too many meanings, so I feel that I need to make myself absolutely clear. I refer to ‘course’ in the course of this write-up in the geographical sense, not the culinary one. Though I don’t deny that Alan’s service to the club could only be enhanced if next time, at the pub, he bought us all a first course. Those who received the gpx on WhatsApp and who still can’t follow the ‘course’, have only one course of action available, that is to take a course in navigation at night-school. I’m pleased to report that during this ride no hare-coursing was spotted and that over the course of time we hope that this will remain the case.

This trivial linguistic diversion has run its course to stop right now. “Focus on the work in hand, Teague, and you may yet rise-up to be average” as my Latin teacher so wisely advised me all those years ago. If only I had listened to those sage words, my life might have stayed on course better than average. But with youthful vitality coursing flowing through my veins, I was not yet ready to listen.

We started from the Bull at Lower Langley. That evening music was to be made by 20 musicians who, the landlord bemoaned, would only drink one pint each. Nick arrived on time having acquired a new cycling computer adding to the variety of gadgets on his bike, including radar. Rod was delayed by leaving the house without cycling accoutrements and had to return to get them. Anyway, it’s safe to say that with Alan armed with Garmin, and Rod and Nick baring clusters of electronics, we were very adequately equipped for a pleasant trip round our local lanes. Myself, I had invested in a new tyre and felt a warm glow, which I knew would not be punctured by future events. A warm glow of satisfaction which only Schwalbe Marathons can provide.  Martin completed this high-tec peloton which cycled, through a refreshing, light shower, around the following route.

I mused on the meaning of Truss. Could a failing Houses of Parliament be saved by the placement of a suitable truss, so preventing the roof from finally falling in? Was our previous Prime Minister trussed-up and placed somewhere in which he can no longer prove embarrassing? Will I need a truss when I get my next hernia and find that medical care is no longer available in this country? Will these fine fields provide 36 lb bundles of straw after this year’s modest harvest? Finally, and most importantly, was my Latin teacher, right? Yes, on mature reflection, I think he probably was, and I have written ‘I must not get distracted’ several times on a post-it note as evidence of my contrition.

Since we were passing through Furneux Pelham we felt the urge to stop and bother Roger. But decided not to on closer inspection of the sign at the bottom of his road. Those who know the village will remember two facts relating to this village’s hospitality. The church clock has the motto “Time Flies. Mind your Business'” and a murder took place in the village of a retired Lieutenant-Colonel Robert Workman on 7 January 2004. In true Cluedo fashion, it was the gamekeeper what dunit. He later confessed to another murder while in prison and was sentenced to a minimum of 32 years in 2012. So at least we are safe from that village member. Still discretion being the better part of valour we decided to cycle on with our precious party intact, leaving the Pelhams behind to mind any business but ours.

Finally, we were expertly delivered back to the pub. Cursory examination resulted in us concluding that the road ahead might not be smooth with this chosen leader in place and so the best thing to do was to ‘drink more beer until the economy picks up’. A wise plan, since it is probably best not to approach this future entirely sober. There we go. We are lucky, we know it, we are grateful.

Now can we just get on with our lives please?  

Thursday 18th August.

The Barton Hills is an AONB which form the northern edge of the Chiltern hills. The northern escarpment is a demarcation between the hillier country to the south and the flatlands of Bedfordshire to the North – far more dramatic than the 100m or so height difference would suggest. This was the area covered by this week’s Windmill Club ride, a new area for many of the riders.

We started and finished at the Red Lion, Preston (Preston village just South of Hitchin, not THAT Preston). The Red Lion is the first example of a community-owned public house anywhere in the UK and Camra National finalist in 2019.

Nine riders set off on a fine warm, dry if slightly overcast day in the customary formation of ‘A team’ and ‘B team’, initially heading down to Whitwell – home of the famous Emily’s tea room (at least famous with cyclists). On this occasion, however, we didn’t stop but headed North towards Lilley Bottom past some decidedly sad looking water cress beds. More rain and running water definitely needed here. Following the valley road up went without incident (one windmill spotted away on the left).

At this point, whilst we took a breather, the B team’s man in orange, Alan, performed a slow motion feet-clipped-in-stationary-fall, cutting his knee in the process. Pressing on and ignoring the blood, we arrived at the fantastic viewpoint at Sharpenhoe Clappers.

After checking brakes and wheel nuts, it was very speedily downhill to Barton-Le-Clay where the first aid team at the chemist (old school – it was called a ‘chemist’, not a pharmacy) were delighted to have a real patient on which to ply their trade.

Barton was also the scene of the A team’s professor-in-residence, Simon, suffering a tyre failure with large splits opening in the tyre carcass. New tyres needed, we reckoned.

Tea and coffee was taken at the ridiculously quirky Country Matters (formerly Lavender Tea rooms). A setting straight from the 1950s. Proceeds from sales were going to a local charity collection so we negotiated the price of coffee and cake UP to £3 a head.

Having lost all that height, we inevitably had to regain it. This was on the up hill gravelly, rough and rutted Chiltern Cycleway where a few riders lost traction and had to walk a short way. Thankfully, normal tarmac order was soon restored and it was a fast run pack to the pub for beer and lunch.

Maurice came out to meet the riders (Sandra, Simon, Victor, Rod, Graham, Roger, Alan, Chris, Howard) for lunch. For once Sandra had the luxury of being able to cycle to and from the ride.

With Maurice out of action for a while and Dawg experiencing a series of mishaps and away-days, the organisation of this trip fell to The Reverend (Martin). A brief exploration during the week and consultation with his walking/dining club highlighted a new pub, ‘The Red Lion’ in Great Sampford. This is run by the former tenants of ‘The Gate’ in Saffron Walden. They demonstrated that they were able to transfer the production of excellent Italian food and super-efficient service to their new location.

A large turnout required splitting the group into three pelotons. It was a 35mile ride anti-clockwise round this circuit. I had somehow got into the first group which proceeded at lightning speed, mostly led by Hazel but with Alan, Graham, Howard and  Jenni hanging in there. Luckily, I was on my carbon fibre racer.

I do remember seeing Castle Hedingham flash by in the corner of my eye. Charles, Geoff, Rod, Ken, and Keith however stopped to absorb some of its 800-year history.  Robert de Vere (note the Norman name) who owned the castle at Hedingham in 1215 was one of the 25 barons who were sufficiently upset with King John, to risk death in forcing the King to sign the Magna Carta. He had raised their taxes. Most revolutions start that way of course; Wat Tyler′s rebellion (pol tax), French Revolution, American Revolution, Russian Revolution …. Wikipedia lists another 300 or so more, in just about every country in the world. I wonder, has there ever been a revolution about anything other than tax?

For those interesting in such things, only three clauses in the Magna Carta still remain in law: the freedom of the Church of England, the liberties of the ‘square mile’ (City of London) and our freedom from unlawful imprisonment. So here is today’s quick question, which part of the UK is not governed by the democratic principle of one citizen one vote? Answer, local government in ‘The City’. Which has its own mayor and police but not the inconvenience of voting.

Halfway coffee and cake were at Spencer’s Farm Shop in Wickham StPaul. It has an extensive children’s play area, but little people had got there first, and we were unable to get on anything so had to make do with just our drinks. Graham spotted a new WINDMILL and did it justice with a super photo. At least somebody is keeping look-out and taking club responsibilities seriously. I see one group also stopped at one of our perennial favourites. My group didn’t do stopping.

It has been extremely dry, and the harvest has come in early this year. A parked combine harvester allowed us to combine a close-up of the machinery with one of happy members of our group. The clay is so dry and cracked that Alan could park his bike in the fissures opened up by the drought-like conditions. I marvelled at the teeth on this thing, making a mental note never to get run down by one.

Safely back at the Red Lion before the worst of the mid-day heat a drink or two was called for. Maurice met us back at the pub ready to enjoy that part of the day. The food was a level above the usual and service very prompt. We count ourselves lucky to have so much good cycling and visitable pubs within a short drive of home.

Thanks to The Rev for this trip.

Monday the 8th August. 18 miles

With Maurice being out of action a volunteer was required to plan and lead this ride. Up stepped Charles, with many years of service in the Army he was confident this would be an easy assignment!

At the appointed location (the Red Cow) 15 minutes prior to the selected departure time 16:00 hours. Riders Alan, Martin, Nick, Rod, Sandra and Simon and observer Maurice met up in the car park. A few minutes later they were joined by Charles who had brought along some additional military reinforcement in the form of his brother John (ex RAF).

John is usually based in Wimbledon and cycles on Hampstead Heath. Charles had persuaded John to join us on the ride. It had not started well with John making a crash landing as he got on his bike on Charles’s drive. But he is made of tough stuff and elected to proceed with the ride.

Peloton on parade.

At exactly 16:00 Charles led the peloton out the car park. Announcing that any late comers would have to catch us up.

On leaving the pub car park we turned left which was a deviation from the planned route. Not to worry as a turn down Chalky Lane got us back on track.

One mile down the road we realised that Rod was not with us. His chain had come off at the bottom of Bury Lane. The rest off us pulled of the road and waited. After a few minutes Charles went back to find out what was going on. About 5 minutes later Rod appeared with Graham and Charles. Getting Rods chain on turned out to be complicated that simply putting back on. It had become jammed. Fortunately Charles being prepared got his rubber gloves out and got the chain and managed to free it without getting his hands covered in oil.

Bike repaired and with a full peloton we set off.
After a few miles and a few hills we stopped again as realised thatJohn had dropped off the back. It seems the hill around here are a little more challenging than Hampstead Heath. Alerted to the fact John was not as fast up the hill Charles was able to give his brother a helping hand to get up the hills.

The ride wandered about the Essex lanes with everyone enjoying the warm late afternoon sunshine.

As we made our way along the ride the group members set their own pace resulting a few gaps. As the tall enders Alan, Charles and John descended Long Lane we came across Simon and Graham by the roadside. Simon had a punctured tyre, unfortunately he had changed his choice of bike at the last minute before the ride and had forgotten to attach his saddle bag.
Simons bike was of a certain vintage and did not have quick release wheels and so tools were required to remove the wheel. As it was the rear tyre that had punctured it was all a bit messy. The wheel was removed and the tube replaced with a spare from Graham’s bike, which was not idea as Simon’s bike was a tourer. So a skinny tube was used. Graham was on a tight time line so he headed off home and John started on his way back to the Red Cow leaving Charles and Alan helping to sort out getting the bike on the road.

Once the bike was road worthy again Simon’s hands were covered in oil. Charles hands remained clean as he had his trusted rubber gloves on. Simon was struggling to get his hands cleaned with dock leaves. Charles came to the rescue again with sun location which proved to be an effective if expensive way of removing oil from hands.

Off we set again, only to stop again Simon had an other puncture. As we were just a mile from home Charles decided the best course of action was to nip home and get his car to rescue Simon. Alan and John sped off to the pub.

Charles and Simon arrived about 10 minutes later with Simon’s bike on the back off the car.

Over the next 45 minutes and a couple of pints we filled in Maurice with the rides events.

Thanks to Charles for organising a lovely ride and his support helping John up the hills and fixing the mechanicals. It maybe a few weeks before he volunteers to lead another ride.

Sadly, we had to say farewell today to Brian, Joyce and Amy of The Plough in Rede, which has become one of our favourite pubs. After 40 years of running the pub, seven days a week with hardly a break, retirement has loomed for Brian and Joyce and they are off soon to start a new life whilst they are both fit and healthy. We wish them a long and happy retirement.

Nine Windmillers gathered at The Plough at 8.45am for an earlier than usual ride to Lavenham and back. Fortified by coffee the group comprising Maurice, Howard, Jeremy, Nigel, Alan, Rod, Simon, Jenni and Martin set off in a clockwise direction around familiar Suffolk lanes but it wasn’t long before Graham came steaming up behind, having started from Ickleton at 6.30am and breakfasted in Newmarket. He and Hazel are neck and neck in the running for the most pedalled miles in 2022.

This is the route we took:

The highlight of the ride was meeting a lady in Lavenham from Rwanda, Jo Nicholas, who is responsible for National Cycling Tourism Strategy in Rwanda. Jo took a great interest in The Windmill Club and will be posting a photo of Windmillers on a website to show how clubs operate in the UK. Fame and recognition at last! Jo said what a friendly country Rwanda was and cyclists are welcomed everywhere. There’s a big cycle event planned for 2025 and Windmillers would be welcome to attend. How about it? Return ticket guaranteed.

For more information about cycling in Rwanda go to http://www.theslowcyclist.co.uk

The National Trust coffee shop in Lavenham is always a delightful place to chill out whilst half way round a ride, and this day was no exception.

Back at The Plough after a very pleasant, event-free, ride it was with a mixture of pleasure and sorrow to sit down for the last time in the rear garden to enjoy some wonderful food and good beer. We shall miss Brian, Joyce and Amy.

Thanks go as always to Maurice and Andrew for organising us.

Martin

This club will go a long way for a good ride, and this was proven true yet again with this week’s effort. We got up ready for a 7.30 (am!) start, despite having attained the hallowed status of ‘pensioners’, then drove right across Essex. Many members shared cars and we packed into the YMCA carpark while making them a donation. It was good to see Mike again after his move to this part of the country.

Brightlingsea was a renowned oyster fishery. After lunch, Martin was able to vouch for the continuing quality of their output. The town is also famous for the Battle of Brightlingsea in 1995. This was 9 months of protest against the export of live animals from the town for slaughter in Europe. In all 598 people were arrested, of whom 421 were local residents. Both the media and the authorities were “taken by surprise by the intensity of support” which “challenged the…stereotype of the typical animal rights protestor”. That organ of loony left-wing propaganda, The Daily Telegraph, characterised the protestors as “middle class, moral and mad as hell”. Tilly Merritt, a 79-year-old local woman, was convicted of assaulting a police constable by spraying him with water from a garden hose. She was sentenced to 2 days imprisonment, having refused to pay a fine. She was released when well-wishers paid while she waited in the prison van taking her to Holloway. The campaigners eventually won, and the live exports ceased.

Riding clockwise we enjoyed the sight of the UK’s largest village green at Great Bentley. Other contenders include West Auckland and Old Buckenham, but at 22 acres Great Bentley is the biggest. We soon arrived at the halfway point, Walton-on-the-Naze. Naze, derived from Old English næss “ness, promontory, headland”. The tower was built as a sea-mark to assist ships on this otherwise fairly featureless coast. The area is prone to coastal erosion. The medieval village of Walton now lies nine miles out to sea. The Naze is eroding at about 2 metres per year. WWll cliff-side pill-boxes are now located on the beach.

The cliffs are composed of a 2-million-year-old rock-type called Red Crag on top of a base of London Clay, which is 54 million years old. Red Crag contains many fossils including gastropod shells, sharks’ teeth, and whale bones.

Fortified by cake and drinks we set off down the coastal-path through Frinton, Holland-on-sea, via Gunfleet and on to Clacton. These are rather up-market seaside towns. Especially the rather austere Holland-on-sea with manicured coastal parks and no seaside pubs. Still Clacton looks enjoyable with its pier and tidy beachside area.

And from Clacton you can see wind turbines! Being a forward-looking club, we have accepted these as almost as good as Windmills. And as you would expect we are indeed obsessed by Windmills.

The Gunfleet array is visible from Clacton Pier and consists of 48 turbines. Since 2010 it has produced 500 GWh at £122 per MWh. Is that a lot I hear you ask? No, it isn’t, since the UK needs 300,000 GWh, so it’s 0.16% but it is not the only array on this bit of coast and the power is cheap, clean and made near where it is to be used.

The areal shot is of the several other larger arrays off this bit of coast. Authoritative, Lazard’s investment bank, analysis shows just how cheap ‘alternative’ power has become. Those living in low lying areas around the coast her may find power from CO2 producing, natural gas isn’t as cheap as it looks on this graph, having paid for flood insurance. Economists and their ‘externalities’ (aka. other people’s costs) aren’t helping the reputation of experts in general. One of the most famous of them said the quality of their ‘science’ was ‘dismal’. I don’t demure from that, I just object to them calling it a science.

By way of contrast our next destination on the coast was Jaywick. Having measured the states of deprivation across 32,844 areas in the country, researchers concluded that this is the most deprived region. Originally it was built as a holiday resort just before World War II. The war resulted a housing shortage and so the camp became permanent. The original lay-out was in the shape of a car radiator grille, with the roads named after various vehicle manufacturers. East End’ers were sold small plots and encouraged to self-build. What could possibly go wrong with that during the post-war shortage of materials? The plans for landscaping the development, along with a lake and a sports centre, strangely never materialised after the plots had been sold.

The local authority points out that the properties are sited on marshland, road improvements have a short lifespan and are quickly damaged by bad weather. In 1953 flooding killed 35 people. There were also evacuations in December 2013 and January 2017 with schools and other expensive infrastructure devastated. With poor roads and little other transport, a 2011 report saw 62% of working age residents receive benefits, compared a 15% national average. Absentee landlords find buying houses here cheap and that the rents then get paid as part of benefits, thus extracting easy money from the taxpayer. Nor is living in Jaywick much fun. A 2013 fresh-food survey found only “a bag of blackened bananas” and “potatoes at £2.29 per 2kg” within 1 mile of its centre. But then who would build a shop in a poor area that gets flooded every 4 years? Health costs are also high per capita. So, the “red tape” of planning permission saves us all money in the end. Wow what a surprise? Must get round to reading the Grenfell report.

Along the way we also saw Martello towers. These are named after the original one at Mortella (Myrtle) Point, Corsica but, they got the name wrong, misspelling “Mortella” as “Martello” which means “hammer” in Italian. The towers are 12M high with walls about 2.5M thick. Entry is by ladder to a door about 3M from the base. The garrison of 24 men and one officer lived on the first floor. The officer and men lived in separate rooms of almost equal size it is proudly noted noted in the historical write-up. Nothing much has changed then, with modern flats about the size of 1/24 of the size of a proper house.

On our way back to Brightlingsea we passed through St Osyth, named after a 7th-century princess and saint. She was forced into an unwanted marriage and ran off while her husband was hunting. She then persuaded two local bishops to accept her vows as a nun. Her husband returned, and after a polite but brief protest, he granted her some land where she established a convent. She was later beheaded by some raiding pirates, while resisting being carried off. Oh dear, never would have predicted that, on the coast and in such a remote bit of Essex. Still in the intervening 1300 years women have evolved safer, more low-key excuses; periods of inconvenience, headaches and urgent demands on their time, such as knitting and listening to the Archers

The return to Brightlingsea required a ferry ride. We had to take our bikes onto a small sand bank in the estuary to be picked up. The tide was coming in rapidly and the first group arrived at the pick-up almost dry while the second group needed to wade.

The pub had excellent food and a great view. This was a brilliant day out and thanks to Maurice and Martin for their organisation

As the starting time for Monday’s ride approached it was clear that this would be a day when many Windmillers had found better things to do and as 4pm arrived only Nick and Rod with their e-bikes were at The Tally-Ho at Barkway for the mass start. Leaving on time we made rapid progress to the only forced stop of the day. Having travelled no more than 5 yards we were confronted by a Red light, the junction of Nuthampstead Road was under repair, a quick visual assessment and with no traffic or workmen in site we quickly side-stepped the red light and continued the ride.

The planned route was through Anstey, Brent Pelham, Deer’s Green, skirting Clavering and on to Upper Langley, Dudenhoe End, Chrishall and back to Barkway. However, with only Nick and Rod who had both pedalled to the start, the route was cut short and re-routed from Upper Langley.

We came that way

Nick had the “good fortune” or so some say, of receiving a deposit from an over flying pigeon just before we reached Upper Langley which was the highlight of the ride. Presumably one he’d upset by chasing it away from his garden.

The weather was dry although cool for May, the countryside looked lovely with the crops growing well, let’s hope there is a good harvest this year. We split at Lower Langley, with Nick making his way back to Meesden while I made my way home to Royston.

Let’s hope we can attract more riders for future Monday rides as this may be the smallest Windmill rode ever blogged..

Rod