Central London CTC blog

‘It was twenty years ago today, Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play’

When the Beatles released their Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album, those of us who were twenty then also remember another song

‘When I’m Sixty-four.”

Back then it seemed

‘Many years from now”

Paul met us at Welwyn North to lead a ride celebrating his safe arrival at this age. The day promised to be fine, sunny and hot as we were enjoying an Indian summer. Thirty riders assembled at the station and Eleanor and Susie joined us for the group photo.

The group photo.

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The Ride of the Falling Leaves has a reputation for terrible weather, and last year’s edition was a scary slitherfest. This year, the contrast could not be greater. A record-breaking week of perfect sunshine and temperatures in the high 20s continued into the Sunday of the event.

Bone-dry roads and unbroken sunshine meant summer kit: our squad of five were all on their best bikes, in short sleeves, and with not so much as a rain jacket between us.

We were among a large crowd at event HQ, Herne Hill velodrome, where we spotted among the many Dulwich Paragon jerseys of the promoting club our old friend and former clubmate Richard Ireland, looking bronzed, indeed seared, from a sojourn on the bike in Spain, and doubtless in good form having completed the end-to-end earlier this year.

In ideal conditions such as these, no doubt their crack riders would be intent on setting personal bests, and perhaps indeed breaking the course record. Nothing so ambitious was on our minds, though as always with sportives, there would be no dawdling, especially as we were enjoying the company of Raph, Damian’s French pal and a fearless descender. more »

We had been unable to take our desired late summer break cycling in France, so decided to sample the delights of south Wales near to Geoffrey’s birthplace in Swansea on a short break. Our destination was the small market town of Llandilo, nestling to the west of the Brecon Beacon range. Three hours on the train to Swansea, and just over an hour on the single coach to Llandilo to settle in to our luxurious hotel for a two night stay.

I was barely recovered from yet another bout of something or other, so was doubtful about my performance. But on our first morning our spirits were lifted by a sharp descent on to the first severe climb of the day. Quiet roads and lovely upland scenery, if you like the sort of thing:

And we do! more »

The website said “Easy ride largely on quiet roads”. And so it proved. It must have been one of the shortest 1* rides on record, only about 21km. After coffee at the start at Welwyn Garden City we followed the Ayot Greenway, a former railway line, to Wheathampstead, about an hour’s ride. more »

“Like a snail crawling along the edge of a straight razor; that’s my dream, that’s my nightmare” – so Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now. My own waking nightmare is forever descending a wet chip-and-seal road, gripless front tyre affording neither braking nor steering.

So it was for me, again, as the Circuit of Kent Sportive surged forth through the lanes east of the start at Godden Green. I thought I had recovered from the psychological damage wreaked by a previous major episode of wheel wobble. Besides, that had been a different bike; there was no reason that today’s mount, a stock Cervélo, should not behave as seen on TV. more »

Down for a hilly **** in the Chilterns, we were forced to change venue at short notice after eagle eyed Richard Philpott noticed on Friday night that our train was cancelled . Other lines were closed or limited in a display of engineering works dramatic even by Bank Holiday weekend standards, so I switched to Kings Cross for Welwyn North with numerous e-mails and phone messages sent out late on Friday night.

With all that I was gratified when Mike Evans and Julia Moye joined me at Kings Cross, to be sent off by Uncle Geoff, who had arrived to do so on his town bike, attired as a gentleman should be on a Sunday morning. more »

We were a lucky 13 leaving Haywards Heath on 14 August. We began the day in West Sussex with a spin through the undulating High Weald and the less undulating Low Weald, ending the morning with a long climb to the top of the South Downs by the Devil’s Dyke. The pub on top of the hill is large and busy but the food is good and the views from the terrace are spectacular.

On the Devil's Dyke

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After the turbulence and tension of the previous few days in London, it was back to normal at Regent’s Park on Thursday. Theatre-goers were out in numbers, so deeming the Inner Circle too hazardous, we took to the Outer Circle. It was heavily trafficked with commuters and recreational cyclists, the latter both in groups and singly.

Picking up the pace, our group, riding quickly but as an orderly squad, was infiltrated by an over-excited fixster, his loose chain thrashing up and down. He must have been on the limit at well over evens as we approached the Zoo entrance, travelling counter-clockwise. When Jon, on the front, signed to ease up for the pelican crossing, our interloper, following Charlie and Jon, abruptly sat up and he came back in a heartbeat on to Damian behind him.

I was right behind Damian who braked to the max. more »