NORTHERN NEWS
Number
156
Sept 07
NEXT
COPY DATE – TUESDAY 23rd OCTOBER
HON SEC’S JOTTINGS by John Bedford
Clubroom. We have been recently been notified of a rise in the rent for the Cooper Hall. Your Committee has therefore reluctantly agreed that from the 2nd October the subs will be 40p. Regretably can now no longer allow bikes to be stored in the clubroom whilst attending the local hostelry after 10pm. Finally, I would be most grateful if a person on the tea-rota ensured that the Hall key was returned to 6 Aston Close at the end of the evening.
Saturday morning guide speeds. It appears that splitting into four ‘speed’ groups did not work satisfactorily. After discussion we are going to have just three speed groups. If numbers justify four groups then the Intermediate group will normally be split into two. Hence
Fast, 15+mph; Intermediate, 11-15mph(1 or 2 groups); Slow, 8-11mph. Nevertheless, leaders should always keep in mind the ability of their slower riders.
Unable to lead a ride? Please try to make alternative arrangements with other club members first.
Contact either Chris or myself if:-
a) you are unable to make such arrangements, supplying a list of those members you have contacted.
b) you have made alternative arrangements, giving the name of the new leader.
Dates for your Diary.
Shenstone Clubroom:
2nd October. ‘Dingbats’ organized by Mary Evans
23rd October. Annual General Meeting, 8-15pm. Nomination forms on Clubroom noticeboard. Any proposals to me by Tuesday 16th Oct.
30th October. ‘Virginia is for Lovers’ slideshow by John Bedford.
Birmingham Clubroom, Carrs Lane Church Centre, 7.30pm £2.
Tues. 9th October. ‘Continental Drifting’ by Reg & Sheila Elliott.
Tues. 13th November. ‘Touring Peru & Bolivia’ by Peter Crofts.
Tues. 11th December. ‘C to C and back’ by Roger Thorpe
DA AGM on Sunday 18th November, at Nether Whitacre Village Hall (the green hut) at 12 noon. Proposals to Harry Child by 11th Nov.
Kidderminster Jumble. Saturday 20th Oct, 10 to 1pm. Forest Glades
Leisure Centre. £1.
Next Issue will, hopefully, contain colour!
FIRST CHRISTMAS LUNCH at The Moorings, near Lichfield on Sat 24th Nov. 12 noon for 12.30pm. Subsidised cost £14. Bookings, with cash, to John Evans by 10th November. Partners welcome.
TUESDAY, 20TH NOVEMBER 07, AT RICHARD COOPER ROOM, SHENSTONE, 8.00 – 9.30 PM
Homemade cakes and Cards for all occasions. Please support this annual fundraising event
The
Revolution is Coming!!!!!!
The 2007/8 Revolution series of track racing starts on OCTOBER 20th.2007 at Manchester Velodrome. As usual a bus will be leaving Four Oaks Rail station at 4pm. Prices:- Adults £25.00 Seniors £20.00 Under 16’s £15.00
Remember that this event is always a sell out as all our World Champions usually ride the first of the series. So Book Early !!!!! Please Phone Geoff Findon 0121 601 8973 or e-mail gwf@blueyonder.co.uk
MY BODY WAS A TEMPLE BUT NOW
IT’S A RUIN
OR
BRITTANY BREAKS 18TH – 26TH JULY 2007
by Katie Price
What can I say to sum up the Brittany experience in one word, well I think brilliant will do to start with, I had a wonderful time, an enjoyable and enlightening holiday. I tried not to form any preconceived ideas about the holiday but went with an open mind and some trepidation about cycling what I considered to be long distances each day. I did struggle a bit with cycling on consecutive days as I had never done that before but I excelled at the drinking and eating part of the holiday.
We all gathered on a lovely sunny afternoon at Mary and John’s house awaiting the arrival of Lynne and John with the mini bus and trailer. After a bit of huffing and puffing on the part of the gallant gentlemen of the party all the luggage and bikes were eventually crammed, squashed and shoved onto the trailer. (Note for next time use a squashable sports bag rather than a suitcase). The journey was pleasant and no hold ups on the motorway and we met up with Clifford and Patsy at junction 27, Clifford our host for the week and Patsy our chef (much more to follow on the food front later). I was dreading the ferry crossing as I suffer from life long motion sickness but the crossing was a doddle and I even managed to eat a meal and get some sleep in the couchette, which turned out to be surprisingly comfortable.
THURSDAY (LOCAL AREA 22 MILES)
We arrived at Moulin Conan at breakfast time and we were soon tucking into hot croissants and French bread with loads of tea and coffee. Then it was unload the trailer throw the cases into our rooms, a hasty change into our cycling togs and away into the delightful French rural countryside. This is the bit where Mary remembers all the lovely detail and I remember the hills and the cafes. As I have only been cycling for 3 years and then only on a Saturday I tend to just get my head down and follow the wheel in front so most of the time I had no idea where I was. We covered 20 miles on the first day and I was feeling very confident and relaxed about cycling and revelled in the excitement of each turn in the road which brought a new sight to behold, pretty neat little villages and small towns, quiet country lanes with very little traffic and no litter! We headed for the local town, Guerlesquin and explored the Presidial (jail) in the centre of the town, which by chance was open for a change. Then up the town centre to a café for refreshment, sitting outside drinking coffee was my kind of life style (even if the coffee tasted foul to me, as I’m a tea drinker). Unfortunately the café owner wouldn’t let us eat our lunch in front of his establishment so we went down to the very pretty memorial gardens and scoffed our French loaves under the trees to the sound of a tinkling fountain. I was beginning to like France. Then off we set to reacquaint those who had been before with the local area, the map was consulted at various junctions as it had been a couple of years since the last tour and memories do tend to fade. We came to a T-junction and we were not sure which road to take. Several attempts at turning the map in various direction and lots of looking at the road signs hidden in the vegetation didn’t give rise to a positive direction.
Now this junction just happened to be opposite a farm yard where a farmer was standing dressed in a faded green boiler suit with cattle in an open sided shed and the obligatory collie close at heel. Several members of the party tired to enquire as to the direction of Plougras but their efforts were rewarded by this man vaguely waving his arms to the 4 corners of the compass accompanied by some un-intelligible French. He moved out of the farmyard and began shaking the ladies hands (if you have seen the Burt Reynolds film ‘Deliverance’ then you may be able to picture this hillbilly type of farmer). I got the distinct impression that he may never have stepped further than the edge of the farm yard in his whole life and lived in a 1920’s time warp. I think it was a telepathic group decision as we all seemed to head up the same road together in an unconscious effort to escape from the poor chap before we were all sucked into the same nightmarish time warp. Eventually we made it back to the farm house albeit in pouring rain
For those of you who have not visited Moulin Conan I can only describe it as a paradise. No TV, radio, telephone or newspapers just idyllic, quiet countryside. The farmhouse is delightful and unlike the previous visit by the club when it was really hot every day, Mick took on the job of lighting the log fire at the end of the dining room so we could dry out our shoes and warm the huge room. The surrounding gardens and lake with the mill stream winding its way past the Mill House (which is situated behind the main farmhouse) gave me the feeling of stepping back in time to a more peaceful, less stressful life. As there had been a fair amount of rain the stream was more like a river and thundered through the sluice gate into a pool and flowed on down through the trees. The walks along the paths around the grounds are beautiful, complemented perfectly by Clifford’s poetry which is attached to the trees waiting silently for the visitor to find them and bring delight to those who are lucky enough to read them. There is definitely a happy peaceful feeling, a welcoming home with happy memories imprinted into the fabric of the buildings and the air that surrounds them, allowing each guest to breath in calmness and serenity (except when playing Pentanque!).
By the time we got back John and Beryl had arrived. They had flown over and made their way to Moulin Conan. I was full of anticipation about the evening meal as everyone I had spoken to commented on the quality of the food and I was not disappointed, Patsy was a wonderful cook and we all tucked into a 4 course meal, needless to say the wine flowed like the river past the Mill House.
For starters, we had ham and salami salad in a balsamic, honey and olive oil dressing followed by chicken in a creamy curry sauce. Each meal was always accompanied by large dishes of potatoes and vegetables sometimes in yummy creamy sauces. Dessert was crepes with ice cream and chocolate sauce, finished off with a platter of cheese. I had finally discovered my paradise!
After dinner I was in the kitchen helping to dry the dishes when in walks Mick and demonstrates his gymnastic ability by performing what I think is called the plank. He was incredible as he lifted his whole body horizontally balancing on his hands on the edge of the table, and he not only did this once he managed to repeat the feat 4 times. Well Clifford not to be out done had a go and failed to get both feet off the floor let alone get his body horizontal to the table. However Bridget showed what the girls can do and promptly gave a dazzling display managing to get both feet off the ground. Just one minor point Bridget, flinging yourself full length on the table was technically cheating!
FRIDAY (LOCQUIREC 45 MILES)
My first full days ride and I was uncertain how I would cope. We set off to Plestin Les Grieves on a warm and sunny day with a few hard climbs in places. I know to all you seasoned cyclists they are just small bumps but to a first timer they were a bit daunting, However I would say to any new comer if you don’t push the boundaries how do you know what you can achieve. We arrived at Locquirec in glorious sunshine to see blue sky and shimmering sea (unfortunately I was not brave enough to try swimming as word went round the water was a bit cold). Lunch was taken on the promenade overlooking the bay, a welcome sight after weeks of rain and floods, families playing on the sand, boats busy weaving in and out to sea, colourful sails flapping in the strong breeze. I sat and thought this is worth suffering a sore bum for. Again we retired to the café for the usual refreshment. By this time I was beginning to feel very continental and enjoyed a glass of wine in the shade of some trees. The return journey on a seemingly never ending road to Lanmeur dragged on and this was my first test of resilience as it was only the second time I had ever cycled a distance of 40 miles. We called in at the bike shop on the way home, John E resisted the strong temptation to buy another bike and I was disappointed that the shop at Plougineau did not have very much in the way of clothes and accessories as I had decided to treat myself to something but left the shop empty handed, much to the relief of my ever creaking credit card. One of the many mistakes I made as a newcomer is that I forgot to take some cereal/chocolate bars with me and I began to flag but Mary kindly gave me one of her cereal bars. I was surprised as to the difference a quick blast of fat and carbohydrate made to my energy levels.
On arrival back at the farmhouse, Patsy, bless her, had the kettle on and provided an endless supply of tea with cakes and biscuits. I had to restrain myself from devouring a plate full and not leave any for the others.
By the time everyone had showered and changed into their sequinned ball gowns and high heels (and that was just the men!) I was ready to start eating the table I was so hungry. We devoured garlic mushrooms on brioche and salad followed by enormous dishes of shepherd’s pie. My favourite kind of dessert topped the meal off, trifle laced with Jameos, I was definitely falling in love with this kind of life.
That evening after dinner we were entertained with music provided by Ben who played the most beautiful classical music on the guitar and piano. He was so patient as we all lobbed song titles at him, ‘Do you know this or that song?’ we all shouted at him and bless him he tried hard to accommodate us all with our favourites. At one point John E, Phil and myself were going so far back in time the poor lad hadn’t got a hope of knowing the music. I offer my apologies to you Ben, as my singing voice must have been an insult to your ears. I will never forget the lovely sound of Ben playing a gentle classical piece as I drifted off to sleep upstairs, feeling relaxed and happy after enjoying such a glorious day.
SATURDAY (MORLAIX 43 MILES)
A change in the weather with dark foreboding clouds driven across the angry skies. We rode down to Guerlesquin and left the village via a great big hill. I was relieved to see other folk get off their bikes and walk up and I marvelled at Jean who effortlessly sailed up the hill on her bike and stood waiting for us all, calm and serene at the top. I’m sure Jean will not mind me divulging her age at this point, Jean is 78 and 2 weeks before the holiday she had cycled 100 miles in a day and took a trophy home with her. Jean, it was a pleasure to have met you and an honour to have shared the road with you, you are truly an inspirational lady.
John E was feeling the strain with his hip at this point and wisely returned to the farmhouse. It rained on and off all day sometimes quite heavily and the going was hard at times. Somehow sunshine always seemed to make the hills that little bit less daunting. We took coffee in the little town of Ploungneau and Mary and Jean made a brave attempt to converse with the natives managing to establish that one of the men was an auctioneer who worked in Guerlesquin. As we rode along the main road I could see dark satanic clouds rolling in on both sides and the distant rumble of thunder echoed across the farmland. Hey ho I thought just for a split second I could be back in Blighty in the dry sitting at my desk. The party had split into 2 groups and by good luck my group just arrived at a large viaduct big enough to get all the bikes under just as the storm struck. We decided to eat our lunch to save time later and watched the road quickly come to resemble a shallow river. Some of the passing motorists tooted their horns and waved to us (or was that ‘at us’ for being so daft as to be out on bikes in such awful weather). I later found out that the bridge had a link to the Second World War when a spitfire pilot had made his escape by flying under the bridge and there are bullet marks on the stone blocks. We arrived in a very damp and forlorn looking Morlaix and had a brief look around the market but the weather had dampened the spirits a little so after the inevitable coffee stop in La Grand Café De La Terrasse we moved out of the town along the estuary. The decision was made to take a shorter route back but it was wet and slow going and my legs were beginning to tell me they were not happy bunnies and I admit I was beginning to struggle a bit. But one thought drove my tired and aching body onwards to the final goal………. (sorry got carried away with the theatrical overplay) – the evening meal was beckoning to me.
And what a meal it was; some lovely soup which I confess I can’t remember what flavour it was, (too much wine) then turkey breasts and bacon with whole grain mustard and honey. By now I was beginning to realise everything just tasted so much better than the stuff out of Sainsbugs. The potatoes and vegetables just got better as each evening went by. Dessert was baked peaches, brown sugar and cream or it might have been crème fraiche, anyway I devoured it all as usual. Lubricating the old throat with copious amounts of red wine.
SUNDAY (HUELGOAT, PARC D’AMORIQUE 41 miles)
I decided to take a day off, now I know all you folk who have cycled all your lives will be thinking what a wimp at this point but I knew I wasn’t up to another 40 mile day. Besides this was supposed to be my holiday, I wasn’t in training to enter the Tour De France! I spent the day relaxing at the farm house and as I only have 2 sets of cycling clothes I managed to get some washed and dried in the sun, sat and read a bit and just watched the world go by with a decent cup of tea. I did make a token effort to help Clifford and timed it perfectly to shovel the last bit of gravel into the wheelbarrow just as he was finishing 3 days of hard work spreading the gravel along the drive. It is very therapeutic to watch someone else work and Joan, Mick, Brian and myself sat in the sunshine and studied Clifford’s mowing technique. As he finished mowing the field in front of the house, he stopped to have a chat and sitting on top of his motor mower he enthralled us with his poetry. The man was wasted as a farmer he should have gone into the theatre. His delivery and timing was perfect, he would have rivalled the best, even Olivier and Burton.
I now refer to Mary’s notes with regard to the day’s ride and judging by the smiles on the faces as they all glided into the drive at the end of the ride it was probably the best day of the week. The ride was hard to Scrignac, but exhilarating with the ups and downs, with coffee at Scrignac in the warm sun. Dark clouds did gather but thankfully no rain. Some lunched at the end of the track, others found a place along the wall. Then coffee again at Huelgoat square with 2 beautiful dogs in the bar but Mary didn’t make a note of the type. It was then off to Parc d’Amorique in lovely warm sun with scenic views as they climbed up and down the valleys, peaceful and no traffic. Definitely Mary’s favourite ride.
At this point I now introduce the famous Petanque match. This game will go down in the annals of the North Birmingham CTC as did the infamous body line series in cricket or the fated hand of Maradonna in football. Clifford brought out a Pentanque set and explained the rules and how to throw the balls and to my surprise I found I had a knack for the game. Several people had a go and eventually I formed a partnership with Phil (poor man, I had consumed a few glasses of wine by then and I kept calling him by the wrong names till eventually he became know as the ‘man with no name’). Unfortunately dinner stopped play but not before the gauntlet was thrown down for a contest the following evening.
Now back to my favourite bit, dinner. The starter was melon in a lovely dressing again I think with balsamic vinegar. The main course was a great big delicious stew, if I had not been in company I would have taken a spoon and scraped the last bits off the sides of the dish! The accompanying mashed potatoes and veg a perfect compliment to the stew. Dessert; flambé bananas in rum with creme fraiche.
MONDAY (GUERLESQUIN 10 MILES)
After a very wet night everyone made their way to the local town in their own time to enjoy market day. Some rode and others walked. I’m genetically flawed as I loathe shopping but I just loved wandering about the stalls mainly because of all the lovely food on display, and not a politically correct health and safety officer in sight! Lovely cheeses, great pan of seafood and rice bubbling away, delicious looking joints dripping juices. I could have eaten it all but settled for a galette with maple syrup, as I knew I would have to get back on the bike later on. We took coffee as usual in the bar at the top of the town and Jean and I tried the local line dancing which had to be the most boring dance in history. I later learnt that the dance originated from the need to compact the earth and was designed to use the peasants feet to flatten the ground. However the costumes were colourful. Most folk just wanted to chill and stroll around buying a few presents and eating lunch in and around the memorial gardens. Beryl and John decided to ride for the afternoon while others migrated to the ex Irish bar for a well-deserved drink. Then we all wandered back to the farm house, I was feeling confident after such a relaxing day and tried to find my own way back only to take the wrong turn and ended up going round in a circle and having to go up the hill twice!
The evening meal started with Clifford preparing snails with an amazing pesto sauce and garlic bread. A first for me, followed by baked tomatoes on brioche. The pork in cider was the main course with sautéed potatoes. Try as I might I just can’t remember what we had for dessert.
Then it was outside for the match of the day. I amazed myself at my own competitive spirit, or was it just a lot of wine and a strong desire to just beat John E. The teams- Paul and John against me and the man with no name (a.k.a Phil). There was much disagreement, arguing, tantrums and basically down right cheating and I loved every minute of it. Eventually I declared Phil and I the winners but John E and Paul will dispute the decision until the end of time as they considered the final throw was taken in front of the line and therefore disqualified. My apologies to anyone else who would have liked to have tried their hand at the game as I did monopolise it for 2 evenings. However in years to come I when I’m sitting in front of my fire on a cold winters night hands wrapped around a glass of Jameos I will remember those evening with great pleasure and affection.
TUESDAY ( PERROS GUIREC 31 MILES)
We loaded the bikes onto the trailer and Clifford drove through the countryside up to Perros Guirec. The day was sunny and breezy and we unloaded on the hilltop over looking the sea and what an exhilarating sight it was. After a bit of bike pushing along the foot path we made our way to the beach. I was starving by now and I’m a real pain in the butt when I’m hungry. All I wanted to do was eat my lunch, so I had a strop as I couldn’t be bothered to carry on across the little bay. I found myself a big flat rock and consumed my French loaf with relish. The more sensible folk carried on across the rocks and took their lunch overlooking the sea from the hilltop. On the way across the top of the hillside to the road some of the group were lucky enough to see some dolphins. Brian went for quantity in his picture and claimed to have photographed 3 dorsal fins and John E went for quality and claimed his picture of one dorsal fin was more spectacular. I remain neutral as to which was the best picture as without my glasses, they both looked liked black blobs in the blue sea, sorry chaps!
We stopped at Plouaret for the usual coffee, I would have loved to have had time to explore this delightful little town. I took a picture of the tiny bay which was exquisite with golden sand and sparking sea and blue sky, pretty little shops and cute almost sculptured houses.
We took the wrong road out of Perros Guirec and cycled along a fairly busy road out to Lannion and some folk stopped at a large Decathlon supermarket for some retail therapy. This was the busiest traffic I had experienced during the week but even then it was far easier than riding in England. The roads were in far better condition and the drivers generally were far more accommodating to cyclists than they are here. Again I would say to any newcomer reading this, don’t be put off by your experiences on our roads, the rest of the world appears to be far more sensible, with the possible exception of Paris!
I was riding for a while with Phil, Ben and Terry when we suddenly realised we were at the same road junction again with the hillbilly farmer. And there he was standing in exactly the same position, with the same cows and the same dog. He shouted something and waved his arm indicating we should go straight on. I will never know if that way would have been a quicker way back but I was not prepared to take the risk and in one graceful sweeping arch of the junction I sped up the same road we had taken on the first day. I don’t think I could have got up that hill any faster if the hounds of hell had been nipping at my heels!
The journey back seemed long through the now familiar country lanes with the only traffic jam being the massive farm machinery lumbering along like metallic dinosaurs, filling the width of the road with their monster like bulk. I accompanied Terry for the last couple of miles and as we climbed the very last hill and started the decent to the Moulin Conan with the sun shining in between the threatening rain clouds, I could hear the music from Chariots of Fire in my head. I felt that I had achieved another milestone in my life and like the days when I used to take part in long distance walks there is nothing like the feeling you get when you reach your final destination. I glided into the drive with a sense of satisfaction that I had achieved another cycling goal. I had covered 150 miles in 6 days (along with a great deal of eating and drinking I might add). I know compared to the rest of the members of the club, that mileage will be viewed as pitiful but to a Saturday only rider I had reached the equivalent of my Everest base camp. Who knows if I can find the time maybe one-day I will have a go at my metaphorical Everest.
We shared a final evening meal of garlic mushrooms followed by chicken with rosemary and lots of lovely veg. Fresh fruit salad topped it all off and I couldn’t resist nibbling the cheese one last time.
I hate packing for the return journey home and the final morning was filled with squashing clothes into the suitcase and trying to find somewhere to put the presents and remembering to take all the bits off the bike. Again the gallant gentlemen of the party grunted, swore, tugged, pushed and shoved everything back onto the trailer. Clifford cooked lovely big dishes of leek and bacon with potatoes and one with smoked fish and we all tucked in and ate outside for the first and last time polishing off a few glasses of wine.
The journey home felt long and dreary mainly because we travelled deep into the night. I unfortunately suffered seasickness on the ferry and sat for 6 hours desperately hoping I would not embarrass myself by throwing up over everyone. I finally arrived back at my little house at 2.30 am tired but contented.
And this is where the title of this piece will make sense, I may have cycled off a few ounces but I certainly added many pounds to my ever-increasing waistline. The temple that was my body as a youth is now definitely crumbling into ruin, as I will never be able to resist the food and wine.
Hopefully I have given some idea of the flavour of the trip and I would like to give my personal thanks to each and every member of the party for making it such an enjoyable holiday. To Clifford and Patsy for all their hard work, good humour and kindness and to Jean for sharing a room with me and putting up with my snoring. A special thank you goes to John and Mary Evans for putting in the hard work of organising the whole tour.
On tour were:
John & Mary Evans, John & Beryl Bedford, Brian Hailing, Phil Betts,
Jean Bolton, Joan & Mick Scott, Bridget & Geoff Lowe, Terry Dwyer,
Chris&Archie Powell, Paul Ki-Kydd, Ben Woodcock, And yours truly
SEMAINE FEDERALE , PERIGUEUX,
by Steven Stansfield
DORDOGNE, FRANCE AUGUST 2007, OR FOUR MEN IN A BERLINGO !
It all started with a casual remark to Geoff Findon that I wouldn’t mind going to the next Federale (for the uninitiated this is where up to 15,000 cyclists, mainly French, descend upon a pre-determined location in France and cause mayhem for one week !) but I wasn’t sure about the necessary arrangements/transport etc.
Those who know Geoff will realise immediately that I asked exactly the right person, because if Geoff doesn’t know, who does?
‘Haven’t you seen my Berlingo!!’ he blustered.
‘Don’t be so filthy’, I replied.
‘No it’s a modern, totally efficient form of transport that would convey 4 persons plus cycles to the continent in luxury, in order to take part in such an event.’ he added, in his own inimitable style (for the sake of brevity I have edited the actual response by a couple of pages!) Geoff added, ‘You find a mate to go and I’ll get my mate Andy from Bristol CTC to make up the four.’
And so it came to pass that Andy, Peter James, myself and Geoff (subsequently named Captain Mannering and hereon referred to as C M) went to the above event.
We actually set off on 2/8/07 all safely aboard said Berlingo with our bikes on a rack at the back and our luggage stowed with passengers inside, including Andy’s 2 foot square fridge! Apparently he never goes anywhere without it!
OVER THE WATER
CM and yours truly took turns to drive and we crossed the water from Dover to Bourlogne before driving down to Dreux and sleeping overnight in a Premier Class accommodation.
It was at this point that Peter and I had to thank CM for kindly leaving a little present in our room. Having taken possession of the keys to Room 29 and being in urgent need of toilet facilities he attended to his needs before we realised that he had the keys to our room by mistake, he then politely handed the keys to Peter before retiring to Room 28, his and Andy’s room!
The following morning at breakfast I realised that not all French women are your stereotypical lean, mean machine, as one particular damsel consumed 4 French sticks together with cheese and jam, possibly why she looked a bit like Big Daddy!
That day we drove to Perigueux arriving at around 5pm. We enrolled, received our individual maps of rides for the forthcoming week and located our accommodation. This transpired to be a local boarding school situated near the centre of Perigueux. Myself and the ratings being billeted in a small dormitory and CM had his own room or broom cupboard as we called it, complete with en-suite, (privilege of rank I suppose).
Next door in the adjourning room were Alex and Judy of CTC and Giro fame, they having travelled to the event under their own steam, apparently declining CM’s kind offer of a lift with us in the Berlingo !
At this point I feel I must say that the accommodation and toilet/shower facilities and bike storage were excellent.
WHY ARE ALL CAFES LOCATED AT THE BOTTOM OF HILLS?
The rides themselves all radiated out from the large tented village area in Perigueux apart from the occasional car assisted ride. The maps provided indicating rides of between 30 and 80 miles daily and also showed the degree of climbing involved. Apart from being the focal point for riders the village had numerous stalls with food/drink for sale as well as many cycle stores offering all manner of goods for sale.
Our first ride was car assisted and although only around 55 miles exhausted us all, since the temperature reached almost 40 degrees C and the terrain was very lumpy. Fortunately this was a one off and the temperature then settled to between 25- 30 degrees in the daytime.
Over the following 6 days we chose rides averaging 65 miles daily, which we all found sufficiently stimulating. The countryside was in full bloom and a great effort had been made by the locals with flower laden cycles being located all over the place. It is of course a place of natural beauty and the quaint little villages were particularly attractive in the summer sunshine.
All routes were clearly signed and refreshment areas were marked on the maps we had been provided with. The food available was excellent and the general atmosphere could best be described as party-like.
HIGHLIGHTS OF THE WEEK
Highlights of the week were in my view; the pre-arranged picnic at Brantome, a beautiful quaint location, where the entertainment included a New Orleans jazz band.
The day we hired new Cannondale bikes, mine and CM’s costing over £6,000 each, although we both concluded that the bikes were way too good for our limited ability, but what fun trying them out for free !
And last but not least the sight of CM entering our dormitory each morning wearing his casual shirt, shoes, a smile and nothing much else as he came to get his cup of tea !
In conclusion my impression of my first Semaine Federale was that it was very well organised and extremely enjoyable and I would encourage any cyclist of whatever ability to consider going in the future. Well with 450 miles completed in a week of tough riding and in my case the addition of a pound in weight- so much for cycling aiding weight loss! I suppose it must have been the nightly 3 course meals and wine that I have to blame for that.
Finally, a special thanks to Geoff, sorry CM, who put a lot of effort into organising the trip and making sure everything ran smoothly, oh and putting the French in their place, well you all know Geoff!
LONDON TO CAMBRIDGE CYCLE RALLY
by David Smith
50 miles, Averaging 13 mph
Having rediscovered cycling in March this year, after over forty years absence, I admit to a hint of concern at tackling this rally. I had four companions: two six year olds tag-cycled by their dads, son-in-law Andrew and his training friend Gareth.
Andrew, lean, fit and packed with pedal-power, tagged my grand-daughter on a half bike surely designed, if not made, by Harland and Wolf. Gareth, tall with pectorals, biceps and quadriceps was, at fifty-two, bewilderingly athletic: he cycled to the start from his Cambridge home, that is the rally backwards, for his warm-up, hitched on his daughter and powered back. Both men have done well in appropriately organised Tour de France stages. On reflection I think that it was with my choice of riding team that my real concern lay.
Anxious to impress a woman we both treasure, Andrew kept just a few yards to my front for the first forty-four miles then, despite his handicap, left me, sprinting through Cambridge traffic lights and islands to the finish. I consumed my Mars Bars and Red Bull too late – its physiological effect kicking in thirty minutes after I had finished, which had its own problems – what to do with a hyped-up old man for the afternoon.
A wrong turn in the final one hundred yards along a pathway into the park, missing the ’Triumphal Arch’ amused the crowd and exasperated my family; a second shot at finishing brought success and a tannoyed interview. But, my mileometer showed an unacceptable 49.85 so off again over the grass to complete the fifty miles promised.
My support group congratulated me and I felt increasingly pleased with myself over the coming days – that is until I read Jean Bolton’s report on a hundred miles at seventy-eight years and Paul Nicholson and daughter’s End to End at well over fifty miles a day for two and a half weeks. Keep trying I thought, success is relative.
Sandwiched between two days of quite appalling weather the Rally Day was glorious – sunny, cotton wool clouds and cool; outstandingly good fortune. The run through delightful Essex villages and countryside was very well organised start to finish, with a wide variety of both cycles and cyclists regarding form and function. Great fun.
My thanks to all in the Northern who sponsored me in aid of Breast Cancer Relief; I am most grateful.
‘C’ Ride to Katie’s Barbecue
by Val Jones
Sunday 26th August dawned clear and bright with a strong NW wind. Seven of us C Riders met at Mere Green and set off for Curborough via Woodhouses and Abnalls Lane - my favourite way into Lichfield. That drop down the sunken lane between red sandstone banks reminds me so much of Devon.
After a leisurely break the next part of the ride was very much ‘seat of the pants’ stuff depending on how people felt. However, with a following wind we made good time through Fradley and across the railway line to the Sittles and thence through Croxall and Edingale Unfortunately just before Harlaston Phyllis’s gear cable for the chainring changer broke, but with the aid of my trusty £1 multi-tool (Poundland in Erdington) the men fixed it in the middle ring and we proceeded accompanied by some odd noises at times.
The vote was to take the route through Hopwas and up past the Devil’s Dressing Room to the old A5 and then down to the ford at Hints. I was a bit concerned as to the state of the lane after all the rain we had experienced but the surface of the ford was fine. Up the hill, some walked and some rode, to come out near the church at Canwell. >From there it was an easy ride to Katie’s near the start of the Newhall Valley.
What a surprise! We went through a little side gate into an enormous carport where the food was just about ready. Roast pork baps with garlic butter, roasted vegetables, salads, dips and relishes. As it was now half past two and we hadn’t had any lunch we were ready to do the spread justice. The immaculate garden fanned out from the house with lawns, flower beds, fruit trees, and plenty of seating including a swinging seat and gazebo. We thought we’d died and gone to heaven. Many old friends, including the B ride, were already ensconced and the conversation .ebbed and flowed as people changed places after going up to sample the desserts.
When we were all quite full we took a turn about the garden discovering a boules pitch and a small putting course. Bill was very excited when at last he discovered a weed lurking in one of the flower beds. (How does she do it all we wondered)
Late afternoon and the shadows lengthened .We had to take our leave but many remained to partake in the games and continue the conversation. What a lovely day!
Many thanks to Katie for her hospitality and hard work, and to her mum and nephew who kept the food coming. Thanks also to John and Mary for providing the backup including wiping down the garden furniture and washing up, and also to the ladies who provided those delicious desserts.
We arrived home having done 46 miles, not bad for a C ride that finished in the early afternoon. The pull up the hill to the Jubilee Stone in the park was rather slow after all that sumptuous grub but at least we didn’t have to walk!
CLUB 100 EAST AS VIEWED FROM A CAR WINDOWSCREEN
by John ‘Pegleg’ Evans
The route went via Little Hay, Canwell, Middleton, Kingsbury and on towards Piccadilly, Wood End to Baxterley for a drink stop on the village green, after which there was a steep descent towards Atherstone and the A5 crossing, onwards to Sheepy Magna and Bosworth Water Trust for morning coffee.
All groups were well within the time limit and relaxed for some minutes before setting off for the next 25 miles.
Cycling through numerous Leicestershire villages which passed by in a blur reaching the Sarah Mansfield Pub at Willey for lunch. Geoff Findon and Martin Whitehouse’s group joined us for lunch.
The weather so far had been very kind, as we travelled through lovely rolling countryside and the delightful Leicestershire villages.
Returning to Bosworth Water Park for tea, passing through Ashley Parva, Dunton Bassett, Croft, Desford, Newbold Verdun and Market Bosworth, the cyclists were interrupted by torrential rain both during the ride and at tea break. John Bedford’s group sheltered for some 20 minutes under trees, near Bosworth and were able to get to the café when the rain eased slightly only to meet Martin’s group in the café unable to move because of the downpour. The café by now was awash with water!
After tea, more rain followed (Geoff’s group were in the rain from the moment it started!) and there were two punctures towards Congerstone! Little Twycross, Austry, No Mans Heath, Clifton Campville, Harleston and Whittington passed by in a blur and before long we were on the road to Shenstone!
John “Pegleg” wishes to say “Hats off to all groups. You all did very well.”
Congratulations to Geoff’s group which was well organised and which came through well on time. They looked as though they were in the Tour de France.
Martin’s group dealt with puncture delays which occurred during the worst rain of the day.
Mary says thankyou to John B. Chris, Val, Robin Bush and Denis Bowcott especially for the support given to her. They completed their ride in eleven and half hours.
QUOTES FROM THE DAY
Mary at afternoon tea during the deluge, with water running down her face, neck and into her shoes: “This has cost me £1.50 and I’m not giving up now!”
Val: “The sweetest sight and feeling in the world is when I am cycling over the bridge at Shenstone at the end of the ride!”
Bob Elliot who cycled briefly with Mary after tea:
“From tea stop we cycled 50 yards up the road and had a puncture. Then after another 50 yards another puncture all in the pouring rain.”
We are not going to make it Mary but who cares, we’ve had a lovely day.” (Bob)
Paul Ki-Kydd (near Shoulder of Mutton): “I didn’t think I’d make it and my glasses keep steaming up between the lenses.”
In a lay-by near Whittington – John: “Have a Bounty Bar Mary.” Mary: “No, can’t stop.”
At Wall, (5127): John Bedford “Don’t wind her (Mary) up and upset her!”
John to Mary: “Come on Mary, just one more hill to go to Wall turn left and its all downhill from there. You’ve got 45 minutes to spare – Go for it!!” Mary: “I can’t go for it – I’m just coping!”
Alan Dodwell (honking up a hill with Val) exclaiming ”Oh bloody hell!!!” Later: “The last 20 miles I was hanging off the back!”
Roy Commander, half way round when Dennis said it looked like rain. Roy: “Oh no it’s not going to rain……..”
Many thanks to the leaders John, Chris, Martin and Geoff for making this a truly memorable Club 100. Happy memories……………
PARK CYCLES now has a few Pletscher Mapholders in stock at £7-50 each.