Andy takes advantage of the good weather...

Andy's Kona Blast in the spotlight, Sunday 15th September.

Andy takes advantage of the good weather and takes this shot of his Kona Blast basking in the rays of sunshine filtering through the trees.

Fat Ralph! Check it out!

You must check Greg's blog, Gravelo (see link in the panel to the right of this post). Check out the bike, a Fat Ralph. I'd love one of those bikes. Here's a photo from Greg's blog, but read the accompanying post too, it's good.

This is Fat Ralph. Check out those tyres!

After the rain, blue skies and sunshine – but for how long?

The weather has certainly changed. From the heat of an amazing summer – don't let anyone say it wasn't – there was an overnight drop of 10 degrees, accompanied by rain about a week ago and yesterday (Saturday) was a complete wash-out. It rained all day long, just a fine drizzle most of the time, but unpleasant in a way; everything was wet-through and there was a mild, but cold, breeze.

Blue skies and sunshine, Sunday 15th September 2013 – perfect for cycling

Cycling was off the agenda for Andy and Phil yesterday, but with poor weather they were clearly missing nothing. I can't think of anything more unpleasant while on a bike than rain and a cold breeze. So nobody was out yesterday.

Today (Sunday) is a completely different picture. The sun is shining at 0703hrs and the skies are blue – perfect cycling weather and I know that Andy can make it. Sadly, I can't as I have a bit of driving to do and have to pick up a hire car from Gatwick at 9am. I'm off to Liverpool and hopefully I'll be back later tonight – we'll see. Either way, it looks like I'll be missing a decent ride. I expected to wake up to drizzle and grey skies and feel, in a way, elated that I wasn't going, but I feel the complete opposite. It's definitely not tee-shirt weather anymore. If you take a look at last week's shot of me outside the Tudor Rose, however, you'll note that I'm still wearing shorts. I reckon I'd get away with shorts today, if the truth be known, but the winter clothing needs to be found. I've managed to locate the balaclava and a hooded tracksuit top, not forgetting the waterproof trousers for those days when caught in the rain.

The weather forecasters promised gales and rain this weekend, but so far we've escaped with a drizzly Saturday and, see photograph above, blue skies this morning. But things can change and it'll be interesting to see how things change as I drive north later this morning.

I can't figure out the shot below of Warlingham Green. It says it was taken in May this year, according to my computer, probably at just gone 0700hrs, but those trees look really bare – too bare for May, surely, but there you go.

Supposedly Warlingham in May, but bare trees?

Also, I thought I'd throw in a rather strange shot of a park in Austria that, for some reason is submerged in water (I'm assuming not all the time, but just at a certain time of year). Perhaps I should of read the story accompanying the image, but I was quite taken aback but the image.

Now that's what I call a waterpark!

And here's a shot showing just how sunny it is at 0729hrs on this fine Sunday morning. Look at the way the sun is hitting the bookcase in the conservatory. Here's hoping the weather will stay this way for the rest of the day – although I don't think it will.

Sun hits the books at 0732hrs, Sunday 15th September 2013.

One Year Ago...

This time last year we proved that tea was at the centre of the NoVisibleLycra universe. Click here!

More photos from the weekend's cycling...

Warlingham Green, Sunday 8th September 2013, 7am.

It would have been my dad's 84th birthday today, but sadly he's no longer with us. Dad would have loved the weather this summer and he'd have also loved this weekend's changeable but pleasant weather – a mix of blue skies and grey rainclouds, sudden downpours and bright sunshine. It's rainbow weather, dad.

Scrap on the green, Sunday 8th September 2013, approximately 7am.

"Nice and comfy." Andy fixes his mudguard and is saved from getting a wet arse.

A good weekend's cycling – 44 miles in total and a big breakfast in Westerham

Soldier and Scarecrow festival in Westerham.
Photo: Andy Smith.

At 6am on Saturday morning I looked out and noticed spits of rain landing in the birdbath. It might be an 'abort' situation, but I didn't want it to be. Looking at the skies, they seemed fine; there were some heavy rain clouds moving east and some clear blue skies and cotton wool clouds coming in from the west, so it was looking promising too.

By 7am, there was a general brightness. The blue skies and the cotton wool clouds were in the majority and the only real sign that rain lurked was the wetness of the roads and the large puddles – not good if you're bike has no mudguards as there's nothing worse than a wet arse, as both Andy and I discovered. Yes, even Mr Mudguards himself managed to get a wet arse, courtesy of rain-soaked roads.

Actually, a brief note on the weather: up until Friday of last week, the hot and amazing summer of 2013 had been trundling along quite nicely. Thursday last week, however, was the last day of summer in my opinion. After Thursday came the rain and with it drop of 10 degrees in temperature. On Friday it rained most of the day and since then, well, it's been nice, but changeable. The autumn is here, my friends. One month to go before cutting back the garden and forgetting about mowing the lawn until March 2014. And then, of course, Christmas will beckon.

We rode to Westerham on what turned out to be a fantastic day for riding, but there was always the threat of rain. When we reached the green at Westerham, we couldn't use any of the benches because they were wet, so instead we stood around Churchill's statue to drink tea and munch cereal bars. At one stage there was a sudden downpour of rain, but it lasted all of five minutes and then the blue skies returned.

Tudor Tearoom's Lycra-clad scarecrow

Westerham is having a 'soldiers and scarecrows' festival this weekend – BBQ, beer tent, tea, battle re-enactments – and as a consequence local businesses have themed scarecrows sitting or standing outside their shopfronts: scarecrow cyclists, scarecrow policemen (see last week's post and Andy's pic) you name it, there's a scarecrow for it.  The green itself has a huge scarecrow, reminiscent of the Wicker Man and the whole thing brings a kind of quirkiness to Westerham, which is nice and, of course, very English.

Having missed a week, the ride out of Westerham was a bit of a struggle, but we made it and said our goodbyes half way along the 269. Minutes after our farewell, the heavens opened and the rain fell. I took shelter in a wood, but in the end I decided to go for it and headed into Warlingham. I was about 200 yards short of Slines Oak Road, so not a million miles away, but once back on the saddle, I only had to pedal another 100 yards before the rain stopped and the blue skies dominated the landscape once again. Unfortunately, I was soaked through.

Taking cover from the rain in the woods on Saturday morning

Sunday was a perfect day for riding. The roads were relatively dry, but I had a problem. One of the pads on my Spongy Wonder saddle had lost its adhesive and literally fell off. I had to cycle to Warlingham Green with one pad on and one pad off, but I dived into a newsagent's and bought a tube of SuperGlue to stick the pad back on. It worked and off we went to Westerham and, as planned yesterday, breakfast in the Tudor Tearooms. And what a breakfast! We arrived in Westerham at 0755hrs and had a short wait for the café's staff to open up shop and put out the wrought iron tables and chairs. We decided to sit outside, which was very, very civilised as the weather was so nice.

Problems with the Spongy Wonder on Sunday morning

I ordered scrambled egg on toast with mushrooms and baked beans while Andy enjoyed a bacon sandwich. We both ordered a large white pot of tea and, let's face it, after an 11-mile ride the whole lot was most welcomed. Sadly, we had to get up and cycle home, but, having eaten such a huge breakfast, there was that longing to simply stay put and do nothing. But doing nothing was not an option so off we went, slightly heavier.

About to enjoy an English breakfast at the Tudor Tearooms

For some reason the ride towards the hill was pleasant enough, much more pleasant than yesterday and I put this down to an excellent breakfast in the Tudor Tearooms and yesterday's ride. The rain held off all the way home. I said goodbye to Andy halfway along the 269 as usual and then headed home myself.

Sausage sarnie and scrambled egg on toast with beans
and mushrooms – just what the doctor ordered!

No cycling for Matt...and not much sleep either!

Saturday was out of the question as I had things to do, places to go; but Sunday, well, it was all game-on; Andy had sent a text saying 7am or 7.30am, I replied saying the former and it was all set. A ride to Westerham was on the cards and, well, it never happened. Not for me at any rate. Andy got out and I haven't heard from Phil, but I'm assuming he did too – it was just me who left the bike in the garage.

Beats a speed camera. Photo: Andy Smith.

Excuses? Well, yeah, there is an excuse. I couldn't sleep. I went to bed and lay there. I couldn't even work out the area of the ceiling by counting the ceiling tiles, because there aren't any, except in the downstairs bathroom. So, eventually, I think it was gone 3am, but to be honest, it could have been any time, I got up, texted Andy and Phil and then loitered around. The fridge seemed to be making a lot of noise, but it was the dead of night. I remember it being something like 4am when I eventually climbed back into bed and fell asleep, waking just before 9am.

Missing a ride is not pleasant. I feel restless and fretful and start making unrealistic promises to myself, like I'll cycle to the Green every morning before work and that way make up for the lost miles and this makes me feel even worse. The weekend just isn't right unless I've been for a ride.

Still, there's no point crying over spilt milk and there's always next week. I've just got to ensure I get a good night's sleep. I couldn't pin down any reason for my lack of sleep other than, perhaps, having things on my mind, but yeah, it happens and I hope it won't happen next week.

Andy sent me an email. He'd been down to Westerham – see pix accompanying this post.

Westerham Green, Sunday 1st September 2013. Photo: Andy Smith.

Bank Holiday Weekend – two rained-off days and a ride to Westerham

Saturday was appalling: rain all day, like stair rods at times. Cycling was out of the question so 'abort' texts were sent out. Sunday was the same so once again, abort texts. Then, on Monday, there was sunshine, but only Andy and I were going, although I found out that Phil braved the rain on Saturday morning and rode the long route to the Tatsfield Bus Stop. Respect is due!

Digestive biscuits and Tetley tea – shame there was no real milk.

Monday was a fine day for cycling so we rode to Westerham where I had the brainwave of having breakfast in the Tudor Tearooms. Why not? We'd been saying it was about time we had a Full English! But it was not to be; the Tearooms were closed and so was the Costa! Our last resort was the NISA convenience store. Fortunately it had a hot water dispenser and some Tetley-branded paper cups with teabags in them. I decided to push the boat out and bought a packet of digestive biscuits and then Andy and I headed for the green and our bench behind Sir Winston.

The conversation revolved around Cannondale mountain bikes and how (ahem) effeminate-sounding they've turned out to be; take the good old Cannondale Badboy. Say that with an effeminate voice, "I've got a Cannondale Badboy..." and everything starts to get a little camp. And then there's the Leftie. Alright, it's got a funny set of forks, it's a bit 'leftfield', but 'Lefty', 'Bad Boy'... Soon they'll be the Cannondale Liberace and, who knows, perhaps even the Bandit or the Cannondale Chatty Man. Perhaps the creative team needs to get down the pub and start talking about football.

The Nisa Local in Westerham – they serve up a nice cuppa!

A heavy mist, an irritating knocking noise and some lively conversation...

My bike is sounding like a metronome and for those who don't know what a metronome is, it's a device used by musicians to keep time and it clicks monotonously depending on how it is set. The problem with my bike is the bottom bracket. It needs replacing, but I've been told by the man in the bike shop in Redhill to keep on riding it until it simply has to be fixed. I think it might be getting close to that time as the click...click...click...click is there all the time and I'm sure it'll soon be annoying anybody cycling in close proximity to me, namely, Andy or Phil.

A spooky mist hung over the Tatsfield Churchyard on Saturday morning

The bike is suffering at the moment. Not only are punctures occuring with regularity, the brakes were recently fixed (readers might recall the extortionate bill) along with the wheel needing new spokes and so on and so forth. Today, while out on a short ride with my daughter around the block, the gears were playing up and the whole chain system froze up.

This weekend was another great one in terms of the weather. Both days were warm and, it has to be said, a little changeable: one minute sunshine then a little rain and sometimes a combination of sunshine and rain. But who's complaining? Not me. I've been off work all week, chilling at home and the weather's been nothing but fantastic. I've spent a lot of time in  Forest Row and Ashdown Forest enjoying the delights of a restaurant called Java & Jazz and Forest Row's rather exquisite bakery behind the main High Street. Today (Monday) we enjoyed Cornish pasties and Bakewell Tarts while sitting in the forest taking in the view. It's been a lazy week, but not much in the way of cycling was done (I needed the rest) and now, tomorrow, I'm back to work.

Right now, though, it's 2326hrs on Monday night and I can't sleep. Why is this? I'm beginning to wonder whether I drink too much tea. Anyway, I went to bed around 1030hrs, found myself lying in bed fully awake and now here I am writing this blogpost. It might well be that during the week I've taken life relatively easy and, therefore, I've got a lot of unspent energy keeping me awake. Perhaps it's the cake. I'm guilty this week of enjoying the odd slice of cake, the odd KitKat bar and plenty of bread and marmalade – all very sugary when you think about it (and it's got to stop) but I've been off work on what is likely to be my only holiday this year so I figure I can enjoy a slice of two of cake when I fancy it. The trouble, of course, is that I always fancy a nice bit of cake. Today it was Bakewell tart, the other day it was coffee and walnut cake, then there was the odd KitKat round at mum's (she keeps them in a house-shaped biscuit 'tin' – it's made out of porcelain. I know this because I bought it for her last Christmas).

This is an old shot of Westerham Green, our destination on Sunday.

Cycling wise, the weekend was good: a ride out to Tatsfield Churchyard on Saturday with Phil and Andy and then a ride to Westerham on Sunday, also with Phil and Andy.

On Saturday, en route to the churchyard, we encountered a heavy mist at the top end of the 269 and none of us had any effective lights. My rear light had run out of batteries and Andy's rear light was all but invisible in the thick fog.

This weekend we discussed loads of stuff as we munched our cereal bars, sipped our tea or stuffed our faces with Phil's excellent bacon sandwiches (a Sunday treat). On Saturday, at the churchyard, we discussed the prevalence of a growing so-called 'underclass' that is developing in the UK, something that many people have discussed over recent years in connection with the London riots, benefits and so forth. Phil brought it up this weekend, although I recall, about a year ago, possibly a little longer, that I brought it up having been for a wander around the Crown Hill area of Croydon. It's an interesting subject and it's well worth reading Owen Jones' Chavs in which he argues that the white working class has become it's own ethnic group characterised by people with 'dangerous dogs', hoodies and tattoos.

On Sunday we parked up on the green at Westerham, behind Churchill's statue and watched as a fellow cyclist parked up outside the Tudor Tea Rooms. "Can you watch my bike for me?" he asked and we said we would, but as soon as he'd disappeared into the shop, we started discussing how we could now nick the bike – which, we guessed, was very expensive. We were only joking, of course, but that didn't stop us working out the entire caper out loud, accompanied by much laughter. The man was wearing those strange cycling shoes that adhere the wearer to the pedals of the bike, so running after whoever rode off on the top-of-the-range machine would have been difficult. My view was that we'd need somebody in a van to take the bike to a safe house where, needless to say, it would eventually require a re-spray. The whole conversation reminded me of a conversation between Andy and I a year or so ago when we decided that being a criminal, a petty criminal, was simply not worth the aggravation. Imagine, for example, if we had stolen the bike, we'd have to re-spray it and then what? Risk selling it on Ebay? No, ultimately it would be more trouble than it was worth. Similarly, shoplifting; where would it get us? Nowhere and, as I've said many a time before, if I was caught with a tin of baked beans, I reckon I'd be going down.

The Tudor Rose Tearooms – next weekend we're having

our breakfast here!

Doing a runner from a restaurant has always been appealing and probably one of the most adrenaline-fueled capers on the books – if a chase was involved – but again, neither Andy, Phil or yours truly are capable of being criminals (we're all too nice). With that pleasing thought in our minds and having drank all the tea and eaten our bacon sandwiches, we headed out of Westerham, up the hill to Botley and home.

So much for great intentions...

...I awoke around 3am and couldn't get back to sleep however much I tried. I thought the best way to try and nod off would be to listen to the sound of my own breathing, but, as usual, fretful voices got in the way as I found myself thinking about this and that: when to take a break from work, that garden furniture that won't fix together, and so on and so forth. I think I finally must have nodded off around 5am and somewhere along the line I sent Andy an 'abort' text. It's all to do with my trip to the USA and how, since I returned this time last week, I haven't really stopped to recover. Things started to catch up on me and I've noticed a general weariness that leads to me falling asleep or starting to nod off anywhere – on trains, on settees and so forth.

Skies between Chicago and Cleveland, USA.

So, when I eventually woke up this morning it was nearly 10am and a wonderful day: blue skies with cottonwool clouds, ideal cycling weather and I'm guessing Andy was out there early enjoying the coolness of the early morning as I slept on. I felt mildly ashamed of not getting up and going, especially after aborting yesterday's ride to the pub in Sevenoaks, but in all honesty I just didn't have it in me.

I feel a lot better as I write this, mainly because I've had one of those Berocca tablets in a glass of water. You know, like the ad on television with those two loggers dancing around on top of the logs – "You, but on a good day!" Perhaps I should have taken one earlier in the week as I do feel noticeably better. I'm back, so to speak, which is good.

Back on the bike next week for definite. Here's hoping the weather holds.