The 3* Birthday Ride
Posted on Monday 12 May 2008 by Nick Bloom
Though bereft of any founder members — Roger Cline is celebrating his own anniversary on LEJoG — a large group spilled out of Witham station blinking in unaccustomed sunlight. The 16 comprised regulars, a few unreliables, even a couple of new faces. A brief pause whilst some splashed cream on lily-white skin, whilst others prepared their lungs. Due to some late-day alterations, we had a lead committee. It was John Snuggs’ ride, but I myself had prepared the route to lunch. Now my navigation has somewhat of a reputation, though I say so myself. An element of surprise, the joy of discovery. I got us lost again. Thankfully, Richard Philpott, whilst watching the tail, would correct our course with a barely perceptible sigh of resignation.
It was indeed a glorious day, and the gentle roads meant we could keep pretty much together. It was soon clear that we were crossing the route of a Lea Valley CC event, with large numbers out. The marshalls looked somewhat surprised as we sailed past in seemingly the wrong direction, but we managed to avoid leading others astray. ith a gentle wind behind us we passed through Terling and Little Waltham, dropped down through Chignall and Writtle, thence a straight bash to Blackmore, to look out for the bikes.
Ah — wrong sort of bikes. Blackmore Village Green was hosting the British Classic Motorcyce show. Rank upon rank of classic iron, leatherclad riders, burbles and a rumbles, and, being British bikes, the lingering smell of leaking oil. On to the Leathern Bottle, which coped admirably with our now swollen ranks, as 2* and 1* rides arrived. A pause, much mingling and chatting, a chorus of cameras, old friends and new.
After lunch various went their ways, a fast group riding back to London, a couple of gentler loops. Again, the remnants of the morning 3* ride conferred, distances discussed, pleas bargained. Up to Willingale and Shellow Bowells (stet), across to Roxwell without incident. I actually knew where we were going. Soon, back at Blackmore, we were as often ensconced in the shady gardens of the tea room. The good lady who runs this is always somewhat flustered, but the earlier activities had given her due cause — her husband as ever quietly polished his Classic British Motorcycles.
Back to Shenfield, and once more we meet with the others. Luckily the train took all, tandem and trike included.
Central London CTC may indeed be a motley crew. Long may that continue.