Categories
Pig & Abbot

Haggis – and a tumble

Thursday’s ride was a memorable one for Hazel as, just a few miles short of the finish she took a tumble, sustaining some painful cuts and bruises, not to mention torn cyclewear and a damaged bike.

Hazel, before her involutary dismount

The mishap, at a tight bend on a quiet road, was most likely due to diesel spillage, a well documented hazard for cyclists and motorcyclists alike, and one we have experienced before; indeed, some of you may remember Chris suffered similarly, and at virtually the same spot, some three years ago.

We are glad to hear Hazel, while still feeling somewhat the worse for wear, is on the mend and we look forward to her joining us again soon.

A murky start to the morning

Confounding the forecast of fine weather, it was a fine drizzle that saw us heading out earlier from Abington Pigotts, a drizzle that stayed with us all the way to our refreshment stop at Waresley. Drying out over coffee and cake, some swapped stories of Burns Night suppers while others lamented they had never even tried haggis. Well today was their big chance.

Who’s for some Scottish offal?

The return leg was thankfully dry and sunny. Back at the Pig & Abbot we enjoyed a restorative pint before, summoned to our table, landlady Pat presented a magnificent haggis, prompting Andrew, our resident Scot, to rise and launch into – not just one – but all eight verses of Rabbie Burns’ Address to a Haggis. Mid-way through, and proclaiming, “An cut you up . . . trenching your gushing entrails bright” he waved a knife alarmingly close to Ken’s nose before slicing the beast open to rapturous applause, while across the pub vegans cowered into their nut roasts.

Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face

For the record, Thursday’s turnout was thirteen Windmillers, namely: Andrew, Brian, Charles, Deborah, Geoff, Graham, Jeremy, Hazel, Howard, Ken, Maurice, Rod and Sandra

30 miles anticlockwise from Abington Pigotts

A special thanks to Maurice for scooping up Hazel and her bike after the accident and ferrying both home.


Address to a Haggis, by Robert Burns (1759 – 1796)

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, 
Great chieftain o' the pudding-race! 
Aboon them a' ye tak your place, 
Painch, tripe, or thairm : 
Weel are ye wordy o'a grace 
As lang's my arm. 

The groaning trencher there ye fill, 
Your hurdies like a distant hill, 
Your pin wad help to mend a mill 
In time o'need, 
While thro' your pores the dews distil 
Like amber bead. 

His knife see rustic Labour dight, 
An' cut you up wi' ready sleight, 
Trenching your gushing entrails bright, 
Like ony ditch; 
And then, O what a glorious sight, 
Warm-reekin', rich! 

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an' strive: 
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive, 
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve 
Are bent like drums; 
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive, 
Bethankit! hums. 

Is there that owre his French ragout 
Or olio that wad staw a sow, 
Or fricassee wad make her spew 
Wi' perfect sconner, 
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view 
On sic a dinner? 

Poor devil! see him owre his trash, 
As feckless as wither'd rash, 
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash; 
His nieve a nit; 
Thro' bloody flood or field to dash, 
O how unfit! 

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed, 
The trembling earth resounds his tread. 
Clap in his walie nieve a blade, 
He'll mak it whissle; 
An' legs an' arms, an' heads will sned, 
Like taps o' thrissle. 

Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care, 
And dish them out their bill o' fare, 
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware 
That jaups in luggies; 
But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer 
Gie her a haggis! 
Great chieftain o’ the pudding-race
Categories
Therfield

Pedal bikes, e-bikes, motorbikes and classic cars

A frosty start to Thursday morning prompted Andrew – very wisely – to delay the start of our outing, so it was nigh on 10 o’clock before the Windmillers were seen heading out from the Fox & Duck for a tour of the hills to the south and east of Therfield.

Pedal bikes, e-bikes . . .
. . . and motorbikes

The highlight of our ride was the refreshment stop at Heath Farm, where Maurice and Lyn had laid on coffee and hot cross buns. Plus, of course, it’s always interesting touring the barns to view Maurice’s collection of classic cars and engineering projects – the latest of which is a motorbike engine conversion. Owning not one, but two 1957 Douglas Dragonflies, he has replaced one of the original 350cc flat twins with a 400cc, four cylinder Honda engine. The man never sleeps! Indeed, word having got around about this latest job, the editor of Classic Bike Magazine will be visiting tomorrow to interview Maurice and take pictures of the Dragonflies.

Not just one Douglas Dragonfly, but two! This nearer one with a 1976 400cc Honda engine

The petrolheads among us were also very taken with the Aston Martin DB5 Vantage engine slung in chains from the roof beams. All fuelled up and ready to roar, it would have been good to see it start up. However, lacking a silencer, we feared for our eardrums.

Admiring the DB5 beast

Thanking Lyn for the hospitality, we resumed our ride, heading for Nuthampstead – where we tipped our hats to John Tarrington – and thence Buntingford, before turning northwards for the return leg to Therfield.

At 24 miles, our route was somewhat shorter than usual but, given the late start, low temperatures and hilly terrain, not to mention the promise of free beer courtesy of birthday boy Brian, we were looking forward to returning to the – hopefully warm – embrace of the Fox & Duck. Alas, the heating had failed and the place was decidedly chilly, so chilly indeed that we asked to move tables; not that that made much difference.

24 miles anticlockwise from Therfield

But our lunch was good and we followed up with a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday for Brian.

Happy Birthday, Brian

For the record, our turnout of eleven Windmillers comprised: Alan, Andrew, Brian, Geoff, Graham, Howard, Jeremy, Maurice, Rod, Sandra and Victor – plus Ken and Ann who had cycled out from Ickleton to join us for lunch.

Warm thanks are due to Maurice and Lyn for their hospitality at Heath Farm – the coffee and hot cross buns went down a treat. Also to Andrew for getting us all organised, as well as Howard for the photograph in the pub.

Could be our new club motto?
Categories
Ridgewell Suffolk

Eating well at Ridgewell

Two years on from our last visit, it was high time for a return to Ridgewell and The White Horse where, opening up early, the landlord welcomed us with coffee and took our orders for lunch.

So it was that eleven Windmillers set off from the pub, in some trepidation it must be said, given the mercury was barely above freezing and, to heighten our concern, within half a mile we encountered Graham coming the other way. Cycling out to join us, had been delayed by the icy roads. Oo-er, let’s take it steady, was the general consensus.

Le Grand Depart

That said, it was one of those sparkling, blue sky mornings and, wrapped up against the cold, it felt good to be alive, at least until the next patch of ice.

Eighteen miles in, and pulling up at The Blue Egg for refreshments, there was by now sufficient warmth in the sun for us to enjoy our coffee al fresco.

The return leg was just as lovely – and thankfully uneventful – as all riders returned intact and looking forward to a good lunch.

Back at the pub, we were delighted to be joined by Ken who, hearing rumours of free beer, had leapt in his car and driven across county lines to join us.

It was indeed Martin’s birthday and, toasting his health, we gave a stirring rendition of Happy Birthday before settling down to an excellent lunch. All agreed, the White Horse food was really very good and, at £11.95 for two courses, remarkable value to boot.

Lunching at the White Horse
Many happy returns, Martin
29 miles anticlockwise from Ridgewell

For the record, our team roster was Andrew, Brian, Charles, Deborah, Geoff, Graham, Howard, Martin, Maurice, Roger, Sandra and Victor; plus Ken in civvies.

Thanks, as ever, to Maurice and Andrew for organising another lovely outing – and to the landlord of The White Horse for his hospitality; we shall return soon.

Thanks also Charles, Deborah, Graham, Martin and Victor for the many photographs; too many to include here but you can check them out in the club album.

Check out also our last visit to Ridgewell back in November, 2019.

Brian

Categories
Braughing

Odd sock shocker

Did he get dressed in the dark? Does Fiona know he’s out? Will the polo club turn him away? Such were the questions troubling the Windmillers on seeing Charles – normally the acme of sartorial elegance – turn up in odd socks.

That aside, it was another good turnout; 18 riders, some arriving on two wheels, others on four, as we gathered in the car park of the Golden Fleece, Landlady Jess taking our orders for lunch.

Maurice led the way northwards out of Braughing, momentarily confusing those of us whose GPX devices advised heading south. No matter, within half a mile both Maurice and satnavs were in agreement as we headed for the Pelhams and Rickling.

It was a longish first stage, Maurice having planned our refreshment stop at the Silver Leys Polo Club some 20 miles distant. The polo season was long over – but there was a dressage competition underway in the arena. Simon, ever keen to get in on the action, got a little too close and was asked to step back lest he spook the horses. He has a similar effect on car drivers.

Meanwhile, the rest of us were enjoying coffee and some very fine cake, made specially in anticipation of our visit by the lovely lady who runs the clubhouse. She regaled us with stories of horrendous polo injuries, her own included. It’s not just falls, they can suffer some nasty facial injuries when struck by the ball. Apparently it is impractical to wear cricket-style helmets and face guards as they raise the risk of a broken neck when you fall. This summer alone, the air ambulance has paid the club two visits. And they say cycling is dangerous.

Back on the bikes, we headed for Standon and Puckeridge before returning to Fleece where Pete and Jess served up another excellent lunch. This week’s birthday boy was Chris, who duly bought us all a beer.

Happy Birthday, Chris!

For the record, this week’s team roster was: Alan, Andrew, Brian, Charles, Chris, Geoff,Graham, John, Ken, Martin, Maurice, Ric, Rod, Roger, Sandra, Simon, Suzanne and Victor.

Good to see John again

Thanks, as ever, to Maurice for planning the route and arranging things at the polo club, Andrew for getting everyone organised, Chris for the beers, and Martin, Graham and Simon for the photographs (too many to include here but they’re all in the Windmill Club Photo Album).

Martin’s new haircut; it’ll look good when it’s finished
28 miles clockwise: Braughing – the Pelhams – Rickling – Rickling Green – Manuden – Hazel End – Upwick Green – Little Hadham – Silver Leys Polo Club – Standon – Puckeridge – Braughing

Brian

Categories
Suffolk

Rede

Another fine Thursday morning saw Maurice’s gang – Jeremy, Ken, Rod, Chris, Brian and Charles – setting off from The Plough at Rede, followed some ten minutes later by Andrew’s gang – Alan, Deborah, Graham, Howard, Mike, Roger and Simon.

As ever, Charles was on top form, barking random greetings at startled passers by: “Top of the morning to you”, “Hello dear,” and “Nice dog!”

Maurice had planned our refreshment stop at the Guildhall tearoom in Lavenham, but Andrew’s peloton had other ideas. A chance discovery led them to Cafe Como in Brent Eleigh where they reported on the excellence of both coffee and cake. We must all return there some day soon.

A lovely place to stop off, Cafe Como at Brent Eleigh
Deborah, Andrew, Howard and Mike in the garden at Cafe Como

At 37 miles, this outing was a little longer than usual – and a hilly one too – so it was with relief that we arrived back in Rede, tumbling into The Plough for a very welcome beer and a slap up lunch.

Maurice’s gang at Brent Eleigh
37 miles anticlockwise from Rede taking in Hawkedon, Glemsford, Foxearth, Acton, Brent Eleigh, Preston, Lavenham, Bridge Street, Shimpling and Hartest.

Our thanks go to Maurice and Andrew for organising things – also Graham, Charles, Simon and Brian for the photographs; you can find more here in the club photo album.

Brian

Categories
Suffolk West Wratting

Drizzled on

Thursday morning saw a goodly turnout of sixteen Windmillers set off from The Chestnut Tree, West Wratting, for a 30-odd mile tour of West Suffolk. Deceived by the forecast of a dry day, some were regretting leaving their waterproofs at home as they headed out into the persistent drizzle.

A fine dry day, eh? Then how come we’re all sheltering under a tree?

And it stayed wet almost as far as our mid-way coffee stop at the Fox & Hounds in Steeple Bumpstead; Landlady Kate once again kindly opening up early just for us.

Now dry and all smiles; coffee break at Steeple Bumpstead

Happily, this was an outing where nobody got stung or otherwise discombobulated – and Andrew managed to hang on to his wallet for the duration. It was good to see Mike back in the saddle looking fit as a fiddle. And we were particularly pleased to see Lawrence join us for lunch following his unscheduled sleepover in London.

Good to see Mike back in the peloton

For the record our intrepid sixteen were: Alan, Andrew, Brian, Charles, Deborah, Geoff, Hazel, Howard, Maurice, Mike, Ric, Rod, Roger, Simon, Tom and Victor

Ric and his natty new shirt

Thanks are due, as ever, to Maurice and Andrew for getting us all organised and Charles for the photographs. Rachel and Peter too for taking such good care of us at The Chestnut Tree.

Graham would have joined us – if he hadn’t been all tied up
33 miles clockwise: West Wratting – Withersfield – Great Wratting – Kedington – Boyton End – Stoke by Clare – Ashen – Ridgewell – Birdbrook – Steeple Bumpstead – Helions Bumpstead – Plumstead Green – Bartlow – West Wratting

Categories
Suffolk West Wratting

Cresting the Suffolk hills

Fourteen Windmillers – Alan, Andrew, Brian, Geoff, Graham, Howard, Jenni, Jeremy, Ken, Maurice, Rod, Simon, Suzanne and Tom – set off from The Chestnut Tree, West Wratting, for a thirty-odd mile tour of west Suffolk.

It all went tickety boo; no punctures, no involuntary dismounts, and nobody choked on their lunch, despite Simon doing a funny dance routine.

Simon, our very own Fred Astaire

Mid-way, Maurice had arranged a coffee stop at The Fox & Hounds, Steeple Bumpstead.

Coffee time at Steeple Bumpstead

Safely back at West Wratting, we enjoyed a super lunch in the garden, courtesy of landlords Rachel and Peter, and we raised a glass to Lawrence wishing him a speedy recovery from his illness.

Thanks, as ever, to Maurice and Andrew for planning it all and organising things.

33 miles anti-clockwise from West Wratting

Brian

Categories
Braughing Henham

Idling at Elsenham

Last Train to Clarksville . . . Midnight Train to Georgia . . . Chattanooga Choo-Choo . . . but alas, nobody sings about Elsenham and waiting for the barriers to open, even though there’s time aplenty, 15 minutes in our case, to draft a ditty.

So there we were exchanging banter with the crossing keeper, our party of ten Windmillers having just set out from The Cock at Henham, and barely 2 miles into a 30 mile tour of North Essex / North Herts. We had come close to being just nine Windmillers, Rod having forgotten his helmet and about to head home, when Landlady Mel, bless her, appeared with a spare one she keeps on the premises. Now that’s what we call a cycling friendly pub.

Brief Encounter

Some three trains later, the keeper opened the crossing and we were underway once more, heading for Ugley Green and all points west.

Maurice had promised us a flat ride but, e-bike convert that he is, maybe he no longer notices the hills. We certainly did and, as the morning wore on and the mercury headed upwards of 25C, our once-tight peloton became strung out over a mile or more. While some of us like it hot, others, most notably Simon, aren’t so keen and, by the time we pulled in for refreshment at Braughing, he was looking distinctly pink.

Simon wishing he’d brought his bathing costume

It was in Braughing that Maurice had arranged an out-of-hours visit to The Golden Fleece. Mid-way round and run by our good pals, Pete and Jess, where better to stop off and take on some much needed water, coffee and biscuits.

Cooling down at Braughing

Back on the bikes Maurice took the return leg at quite a lick, having promised Mel he would get us back in good time for lunch, so we were grateful when Henham and the The Cock finally hove into view. Sitting in the garden, we enjoyed a restorative pint while Mel’s team served up an excellent lunch.

Lunch at The Cock

For the record, our peloton comprised Alan, Andrew, Brian, Chris, Geoff, Graham, Maurice, Rod, Simon and Victor.

Thanks go to Maurice and Andrew for organising things, Jess and Peter for opening up The Fleece, and Mel for her hospitality (and helmet) at The Cock.

31 miles anticlockwise: Henham, Elsenham, Ugley Green, Little Hadham, Standon, Puckeridge, Braughing, Furneux Pelham, Stocking Pelham, Rickling, Henham

And finally, we wish our pal Lawrence, currently laid up in St George’s Hospital, a speedy recovery from his illness. We hope to see him back in the saddle soon.

Our very own St Lawrence; get well soon

Brian

Categories
Cambridgeshire West Wratting

Two take a tumble

At 390 feet above sea level, West Wratting can claim to be the second highest village in Cambridgeshire, beaten to the top spot only by Great Chishill, where Charles, sitting in his garden at a lofty 479 feet, can look down on everyone else in the county.

Gathering at The Chestnut Tree, West Wratting
Morning coffee

West Wratting’s other claim to fame is as the haunt of the mythical Shug Monkey. Cambridgeshire folklore has it that the creature – half dog, half monkey – haunts the road to Balsham. Nobody saw it, not even Hazel who, having enjoyed a pint of strong and possibly hallucinogenic rhubarb cider with her lunch, was the most likely of us to experience a vision.

At Graham’s recommendation, we were lunching at The Chestnut Tree in West Wratting, a wonderful village pub, blessed with a particularly fine garden. Our hosts, Peter and Rachel, had welcomed us earlier that morning with coffee and we were now enjoying a fine lunch and some excellent beers.

Good choice of pub, Graham

It had been an eventful outing. Early on, Roger’s and Alan’s bikes somehow got entangled and they took a tumble in the road. Mercifully, they emerged relatively unscathed apart from the odd patch of road rash and bruising. Nothing as bad as the spectacular pile up on the opening day of the Tour de France.

Look carefully and you can just see Alan and Roger ahead, rolling in the road

We’d had a few mechanicals as well; a puncture for Victor and – more significantly – a seized bottom bracket for Howard. Victor effected his puncture repair quickly enough but Howard, unable to turn his pedals for the final mile, had to be pushed back to base by Ric.

Victor’s puncture repair
Ric pushes Howard home

We always make the time to pull over and admire the natural world. This time it was a silk tent in a hedgerow, the work of a small eggar moth caterpillar colony. Following emergence from their eggs, the caterpillars construct a tent consisting of layers of silk fibres.

Small eggar moth caterpillars on their silk tent

We pulled in for coffee at Café 33 near Stradishall. The place doesn’t look much – but the ladies make exceedingly good cakes; well worth stopping for when you next visit your relatives over the road at Highpoint Prison.

Café 33
Suzanne negotiates a roadblock

For the record, our riders were: Alan, Brian, Charles, Deborah, Geoff, Graham, Hazel, Howard, Maurice, Mike, Ric, Roger, Suzanne, Tom and Victor.

28 miles clockwise from West Wratting

Thanks, Maurice, for guiding us around another lovely route. Also Graham, Charles, Deborah and Hazel for the photographs. And Peter & Rachel for their hospitality at the Chestnut Tree; we shall return.

Brian

Categories
Essex

Poppies & Poo

Whenever we passed The Cock Inn at Henham, John Bagrie would go missing, which was a pretty sure sign that the landlord kept a good cellar. So it was high time we tried the place for lunch – and it didn’t disappoint. The food was good, and the beer, generously bought by Birthday Boy Geoff, was good too.

Ten Windmillers – Andrew, Brian, Charles, Geoff, Graham, Maurice, Ric, Roger, Simon and Victor – had set out some three hours earlier from Henham bound for Broxted and all points east. Returning to the pub after an excellent ride, we were hungry, thirsty and – despite the dire weather forecast – thankfully dry.

Stopping midway at Finchingfield, we had enjoyed coffee and cake overlooking the green before returning via Thaxted, where we were delighted to see Ken and Suzanne waiting to join us for the final leg.

As ever, Maurice had devised a lovely route; the Essex lanes were traffic free and the roadsides seemingly ablaze with poppies.

And the poo? Well there was a pile of manure on the roadside in Stanbrook and Simon couldn’t resist the temptation to squat and pose for a photograph.

That’ll take two flushes, Simon

Thanks go to Maurice for the route, Andrew for logistics, Charles, Simon and Graham for photographs – and Geoff for the beer.

Brian

29 miles: Henham – Broxted – Thaxted – Great Bardfield – Finchingfield – Little Sampford – Thaxted – Cutlers Green – Henham
Categories
Braughing

Sunny Delight

Thirteen Windmillers, a veritable baker’s dozen, followed Maurice out of Braughing towards Puckeridge. Born and bred in these ‘ere parts, Maurice needs no map, knowing as he does every nook, cranny, lane and hedgerow, not to mention public house, within a 30 mile radius.

We were off on a 33 mile tour of North East Herts. Twas a lovely morning, and a goodly turnout to boot; following Maurice were: Alan, Andrew, Brian, Charles, Deborah, Graham, Hazel, Howard, Nigel, Roger, Simon and Victor.

The highlight of this particular route is the delightful five mile section along the riverside, running from Hertford, through Ware and on to Stanstead Abbotts. And where better to pull in for refreshment than Ware Café, where we enjoyed coffee and cake in the garden.

An aerial shot taken by Graham
A ground level shot taken by Brian
And a flowery shot taken by Hazel

Setting off on the return leg, we headed for Hunsdon, Perry Green and thence Braughing where, pulling into the Golden Fleece, we were delighted to be joined by Suzanne who had pedalled all the way from Abington.

Our thanks as ever go to Maurice and Andrew for organising things; Simon who got stiffed with the rather large bill for refreshments at Ware; plus Charles, Graham and Hazel for the many photographs which you can find here in the club album.

33 miles anticlockwise
Categories
Cambridge

Destination Grantchester

Grantchester, according to the eponymous TV series, is the murder capital of East Anglia. Week in, week out, some poor sod gets bumped off, whereupon the evil doer is tracked down and unmasked by the local vicar-cum-sleuth. It’s Cluedo with clerics.

So it was on Thursday that we rounded up the usual suspects: gang leader Brian, followed by Alan, Deborah, Geoff, Graham, Hazel, Howard, Jenni, Jeremy, Mike, Ric, Rod, Roger – and prime suspect Charles (aka Colonel Mustard, handy with a lead pipe, wrench, rope, revolver, dagger or candlestick).

Starting out from Trumpington, we headed for Cambridge and the fens. Guaranteed a hill-free ride, our regular e-bikers Rod, Charles and Geoff had opted to leave their e-machines at home and pedal the 32 miles unassisted.

Willingham Auctions

Mid-way, we stopped for coffee and cake at the Willingham Auctions Café, and it was here that we quizzed Deborah on how she came to feature in yesterday’s national newspapers pictured alongside the dashing Sir Keir Starmer. The photograph was taken in the 80s when they shared a student house in Leeds.

Deborah reminisces . . . happy days as a student in Leeds . . .
. . . with Keir Starmer in the foreground and Deb behind looking cool in shades

Setting off once more, we headed for Over before turning south and winding our way homewards through Longstanton, Oakington and Girton. Finally, skirting Cambridge to the west, we pitched up at the Blue Ball Inn, Grantchester and tucked into a well earned lunch.

32 miles anticlockwise from Trumpington
Categories
Monday rides

For Whom the Bell Tolls

Riding past Simon’s house on a chilly February morning, Jeremy and Brian spotted the man himself, togged out in gardening attire, trundling a wheel barrow across his estate.

“Not cycling today?” we cried.

“Weather’s not great . . . lots of pruning to do,” came the reply.

Grateful for a breather after the stiff hill climb up to Littlebury Green, we asked to see Simon’s famous ship’s bell. Found in a junk shop, he had lovingly restored it, built a frame to mount it, and given it to his missus for Christmas. It was indeed impressive; big and shiny. What else is there to say about a bell but could we hear it ring, please? Alas, it was a little early and Simon feared his neighbours would run for their air raid shelters.

Simon’s magnificent bell . . .
. . . he is particularly proud of his bell end

Once again, Charles hosted the club charity box – this time without the camera trap. It was here that Jeremy and Brian caught up with Andrew. Admiring Jeremy’s new helmet, Andrew and he swapped some rather alarming head injury experiences. That explains a lot, thought Brian.

Chez Charles – he reassures us our privacy will be respected

This day and age, it is hard to believe there is anyone left on the planet who hasn’t taken a selfie. Step up, Deborah Goodman. Her first ever effort, taken while stuffing a fiver into the charity box, shows she needs a bit more practice.

Deborah, concentrating hard

She reported the highlight of her ride was the slice of scrumptious Victoria sponge handed over the hedge by her friend in Langley Upper Green.

Deborah’s friend and a very welcome plate of cake

For the record, Monday’s team roster was: Alan, Andrew, Brian, Charles, Deborah, Geoff, Graham, Jeremy, Julia, Lawrence, Martin, Maurice, Nick and Suzanne – all spread out over a 19 mile circuit. Let me know if I’ve missed anyone.

Martin and his carer. Keep up the good work, Suzanne.
She also helps out with Andrew
Jeremy and Brian
19 miles

Thanks as ever, Andrew and Maurice, for planning and organising everything. Thanks too, Charles, for hosting the charity box.

Brian

Categories
Uncategorized

25 June 2020: Feeling the heat at Wimpole

Ah, those idyllic summer rides; tyres singing on the tarmac, the wind in your hair, the breeze in your gusset.

The warmest day of the year saw nineteen Windmillers turn out for a tour of Fowlmere, Shrepreth, Littlington, Wimpole, Barrington and Newton. Not just socially distanced, but widely distributed around a 29 mile circuit, our runners and riders were Maurice, Andrew, Howard, Charles, Ric, Geoff, Graham, Martin, Suzanne, Chris, Tom, Deborah, Jenni, Roger, Rod, Ken, Yorkie Brian, Brummie Brian and Lawrence.

Maurice having planned the route, Andrew ensured our starts were spread out, half of us going clockwise and half anticlockwise. And Lawrence, top chap, hosted the beer and charity box in his garden at Fowlmere.

Maurice, on his antique yellow bike, sustained an early puncture but – as the rest of us weren’t around to help (ie hinder) – he had it fixed and back on the road in record time.

Hard luck, Maurice

Crossing the Wimpole estate, we pulled in for a takeaway coffee at the café. The service was so slow, however, that Martin and Suzanne attempted that old queue jumping trick of striking up an avid conversation with a friend near the front. Alas, a brisk rebuke from upstanding members of the National Trust saw them suitably shamed and sent scurrying to the back of the queue. Tut, tuts all round.

Shady characters at Wimpole
Howard, seemingly sitting on a pedal. I didn’t know you could do that

Lawrence, keen to get back and host the Fowlmere refreshments, pushed himself so hard he could barely walk after dismounting. And Simon whizzing around to finish in a personal best time, was disappointed to narrowly miss his target of two hours. Maybe next time – with the help of shaved legs and some figure hugging lycra – he will fulfil that dream.

Cheers, Lawrence
29 miles whichever way you go

Brian

Categories
Uncategorized

5 March 2020: Wet? Not ‘arf!

The morning had started fair, twelve Windmillers exiting the Golden Fleece car park heading for Clavering. But poor old Maurice suffered an early setback when the e-part of his e-bike gave up the ghost and he was forced to return to the pub leaving us at the mercy of Andrew – who assured us he knew the route. We looked at our feet, “Mmmm, we’ll see.”

We needn’t have worried. We suspect he made it up as he went along but Andrew’s route, while distinctly wiggly, took us along quiet lanes in picturesque countryside.

27 miles anticlockwise – and looking a little lost around Clavering
Deborah and Graham circumventing a road closure

Sixteen miles in, we pulled up for refreshments at Poppy’s Barn, our first visit to this little gem of a tea room in the middle of nowhere; the tiny hamlet of Butt’s Green being the nearest habitation. The coffee and cake were exceedingly good and Graham spoke highly of the hot chocolate with marshmallow topping.

Graham’s sugar fix

We may have been cosy in Poppy’s but outside the weather had taken a turn for the worst; steady rain. Exiting the tearoom, we huddled under the barn eaves, donning oilskins and sou’westers while we contemplated our options. Go back inside and eat more cake? Send Sandra on alone to fetch her van? She didn’t like that idea at all. Resolute, we mounted our dripping wet bikes and – heads down – pedalled the 10 miles or so back to the pub.

Landlord Peter gave us a warm welcome and served up an excellent lunch; we particularly enjoyed his pie and a pint fare.

For the record, the 12 hardy Windmillers gently steaming in the Golden Fleece were: Maurice, Deborah, Andrew, Nigel, Ken, Martin, Sandra, Graham, Victor, Rod, Lawrence and Brian.

Despite the weather it was a very enjoyable outing. Many thanks to Andrew for improvising such a good route. Let’s do it again on a fine day.

Brian

Categories
Uncategorized

31 October 2019: Sixteen for Halloween

Wot, no shorts?

Sixteen Windmillers! A record turnout, not to mention a serious overtaking challenge for the hard pressed motorists of Cambridgeshire. It was Halloween and the cast list for our rocky horror show was: Ken, Sandra, Andrew, Geoff, Howard, Tom, Ric, Simon, Vernon, Roger, Graham, Lawrence, Keith, Charles, Brian and Deborah; the latter fashionably late but catching up with us a mile down the road.

The ground frost had lifted by the time we got going but even the hardiest among us had decided to forgo the shorts; indeed some were wearing ski gloves.

Ken – this week’s routemeister – had devised a 30-ish mile circuit starting just off the A14 at Boxworth and taking in Papworth Everard, Abbotsley, Waresley and Cambourne. A novel route, especially so for the farmer who took exception to Ken’s shortcut across his land in a bid to avoid the Papworth Everard bypass. The first dozen of us got across before the mass trespass was spotted, but the tailenders – Tom, Ric, Graham, Lawrence, Sandra and Howard – got waylaid and told in no uncertain terms to sling their hook. With the peloton now divided, there was a 15 minute delay while we all caught up with each other again – on the Papworth Everard bypass!

Hanging out at Abbotsley while Roger mends his puncture

The only other incident of note was a puncture sustained by Roger but this was soon mended.

Pulling in for refreshments at Waresley Park Garden Centre, we enjoyed coffee and cake and debated the issues of the day – polling dates, England’s chances in the rugby world cup, ailments – you know the sort of thing.

Simon gets his sugar fix

Lunch at the Golden Ball on this our first visit was excellent and – a lovely surprise – Maurice turned up looking hale and hearty just two weeks after his operation. Sitting next to him, Brian tested Maurice’s reaction time – not to mention his patience – by tipping a pint over his leg. Thankfully, it wasn’t the one with the stitches.

Good to see Maurice back

Thanks, Ken, for planning an excellent outing; Andrew too for getting us all organised.

29 miles anticlockwise from Boxworth

Brian

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24 October 2019: Spooky Cake

The season turns, nights draw in and Windmillers wrap up warm against the autumn chill; apart from Sandra, Simon and Charles who, being made of sterner stuff, refuse to give up the shorts until Jack Frost nips at their kneecaps.

Ready for the off

So it was that Sandra in her lycra summer wear, Simon in his Baden Powell britches, and Charles in his signature stripey socks, met up with the rest of us in our sensible leggings. We were at The Woodman for our weekly Thursday outing and, for the record, the others in our gang were: Ken, Martin, Graham, Lawrence, Roger, Brian and Deborah; the latter looking remarkably spry considering she had finished a night shift just a few hours earlier.

Setting out from The Woodman, Sandra – this week’s routemeister – steered us via Wyddial to Buntingford and then on through Westmill, Great Munden, Moor Green and Ardeley – where we pulled in for coffee and cake at Church Farm. The place was decked out for Halloween and the cake selection featured various spooky treats. Graham sampled the Halloween Chilli Sponge while Simon opted for the Bloodstained Victoria Sandwich. Meanwhile Deborah – with an afternoon’s horse riding still to come – kept going with strong coffee. 

Fashion icons Charles and Graham modelling a range of autumn wear
Deborah looking forward to a caffeine fix

Refreshed and back on the bikes, we followed Sandra out of Ardeley towards Cromer for the return leg to Nuthampstead. With the sugar beet harvest in full swing, the roads hereabouts were liberally coated in mud and we soon assumed a somewhat mud-speckled appearance. When the rain arrived it was a mixed blessing; we got wet – but we also got clean again.

Brian looking forward to a restorative pint

Tumbling back into the Woodman, we were delighted to be joined by John Bagrie while Deborah headed off to the stables. We enjoyed a pint and a jolly good lunch.

Back at The Woodman

It had been an excellent ride along a well chosen route: scenic and almost traffic free. Thanks, Sandra.

30 miles clockwise from Nuthampstead

Brian

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3 October 2019: On Maurice’s home turf

Thursday morning saw 12 Windmillers set off from the Golden Fleece at Braughing, Maurice leading the way, followed by Andrew, Ken, Keith, Howard, Charles, Roger, Graham, Geoff, Lawrence, Simon and Brian.

Born and bred hereabouts, Maurice needs no map. He led the way south – through Puckeridge, Levens Green, Sacombe Green and Bengeo – to Hertford where we picked up the Lea Navigation towpath. Then it was a leisurely ride along the riverside to Ware and a welcome coffee stop at the café in the town centre.

Refreshed, we continued along the river as far as Stanstead Abbotts where, leaving the towpath, we turned northwards for the return leg – via Hunsdon, Barwick and Standon – to Braughing.

A puncture in Keith’s rear tyre entailed a small delay but, with Howard’s help, this was soon mended and we were underway once more, arriving back at the Fleece soon after 1 o’clock.

A delightful morning was topped off with an excellent lunch served up by Landlord Peter.

Thanks, Maurice for your intuitive, satnav-like guidance around the quieter lanes of North Herts. Andrew too, for getting us all organised.

Brian

31 miles anticlockwise from Braughing
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26 September 2019: Milling around at Bourn

Bourn Windmill

We felt slightly giddy, standing on the mill floor as the entire structure – tower, sails, the lot – turned through all points of the compass. Propelled by our unseen friends outside, our little world was turning; twenty-odd tons of oak, cast iron and millstone creaked alarmingly about our ears as sunbeams and shadows danced across the internal walls.

Sandra and Lawrence doing all the pushing while Roger and Martin discuss Brexit

We were on another of Martin’s marvellous outings. You may remember the last one involved crossing an expanse of open water in a small boat. This time we were getting up close and personal with some 17th century heavy engineering.

Simon, Victor, Claire, Howard and Geoff showing how it should be done

Setting out from Abington Pigotts earlier that morning, Martin had led the way – via Hatley St George and the Gransdens – to Bourn where he had arranged a tour of the mill. Our host Kate plus volunteers Derek and Claire were expecting us and gave a warm welcome.

Built in 1636, Bourn is one of the oldest windmills in England and a designated Ancient Monument. Perched in lovely countryside to the west of Cambridge it is owned and cared for by local charity Cambridge Past, Present & Future.

Derek and Claire gave us a fascinating insight into the ingenuity of millwrights – before splitting us into two groups: the innies who were to be whirled around inside – and the outies who did the pushing. Innies and outies then swapped over so all had a turn at pushing / feeling queasy.

Afterwards Kate invited us into her garden where we enjoyed tea, coffee and some wonderful home-baked treats. Delightful as it was, we had another 17 miles to go and so, thanking Kate, Derek and Claire for their hospitality, we saddled up and set off on the return leg.

Kate and Martin

Approaching Harlton, Martin led us off road and up hill on a rough track for a mile or so before before descending towards Orwell. Then it was on to Meldreth, Bassingbourn and eventually the home straight back to the Pig and Abbot.

Over a hearty lunch and a beer there was much talk of windmills followed by a fierce debate as to whether Landlady Pat’s meat pies were superior to her meat puddings; opinion was divided and we agreed to return and gather more data in the near future.

For the record our gang of cyclists comprised Martin, Andrew, Sandra, Ken, Howard, Roger, Ric, Victor, Graham, Geoff, Lawrence, Simon,  Vernon and Brian – and we clocked up 32 miles.

32 miles clockwise from Abington Pigotts

Thanks, Martin, for another excellent outing; Andrew too for the logistics. And a special thanks to Kate, Derek and Claire for their hospitality. Great cakes, Kate!

Checkout the CPPF website for further information on Bourn Mill – and there are more pictures in our 2019 photo album – including a video of us turning the mill.

Brian

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bikes on boats Brightlingsea Essex

6 September 2019: Ahoy, shipmates!

How many Windmillers can you fit in a small boat? Well now we know: eleven, including bikes.

Room for 6 more

Martin had promised us a day at the seaside. So it was that eleven Windmillers set out from Brightlingsea for an outing to Clacton. It was an unseasonally chilly morning so we left our buckets, spades and bathing costumes in the car.

“Are we nearly there yet?” was the oft-heard refrain as we pedalled after Martin for some 16 miles – through Great Bentley and Thorpe-le-Soken – before finally seeing the sea at Walton-on-the-Naze.

The Naze Tower

We pulled in for coffee at the Essex Wildlife Trust café, adjacent to the historic Naze tower. It was a timely stop as Keith had just developed a puncture.

Puncture repairs

Refreshed and with Keith’s puncture mended, we set off along the promenade for 12 traffic-free miles taking in Frinton, Holland-on-Sea and Clacton. And what a blissful ride it was, under wide blue skies with a clear horizon and very little wind.

Clacton Pier

Pulling up at Point Clear, we could see our destination 500 yards away across Brightlingsea Creek. Martin made a call to check the foot ferry was operating. It was; which was just as well – the return by road would have meant an extra 20 miles and no lunch.

“About that ferry I ordered . . .”

It was at this point that we started having doubts about Martin’s plan – as we traipsed after him, pushing the bikes with some difficulty across several hundred yards of shingle and sand. There was no sign of a ferry – or even a jetty – and how exactly would we get off the beach and on to a boat? Wading with bikes held aloft? There was nothing at the water’s edge, not even a footprint – just an expanse of open water between us and Brightlingsea.

Brightlingsea – so near, and yet so far

“Mmmm,” said Martin as, pulling out his phone again, he made another call. Lo and behold, a little boat chugged out of Brightlingsea harbour heading our way. Reaching the shore, the skipper lowered a landing ramp and invited us aboard. What all of us? On that little thing? Bikes too?

Five minutes later and now fully laden the little craft was ferrying us across the creek. What larks!

Finding our sea legs
A motley crew
Galley slaves

Disembarking at the town jetty, we saddled up and rode the last few hundred yards to The Rosebud where we lunched in the garden overlooking the Colne Estuary.

Landlubbers once more

For the record the eleven Windmillers were Martin, Andrew, Maurice, Deborah, Graham, Charles, Keith, Lawrence, Roger, Ric and Brian.

Well done, Martin, and many thanks for a wonderful day. We never doubted you really.

Brian

Cheers!
36 miles clockwise from Brightlingsea