While we're on the subject of Gravelo's blog...

...it's worth reading the post about riding the lightening (there's a Metallica reference for you!). In fact, if you look down the right hand side of this blog (my blog) you'll be able to click and go straight to Gravelo's excellent blog. If you're too lazy to do that, just click here.

The big question, of course, is would we ride out in lightening like this (see above pic, taken, I'd imagine, by Gravelo).

Check out Gravelo's blog!!!!

Gravelo's brother-in-law's bike. Check out that crank set

If you're logged on, Gravelo, just to say you're blog's looking good. Love your brother-in-law's bike! Fantastic! To others reading this post, go to Gravelo's blog by clicking here, and then scroll down a few posts until you reach a pic of Gravelo's brother's bike, it's amazing, here's a pic of it (see above).

Sunday 6 June – Andy gets TWO punctures!

Last night when I went to bed, I heard distant thunder and assumed, based on weather reports, that a huge electric storm was coming our way and that Sunday would be a wash-out, but when I jumped out of bed around 0600hrs, while a few puddles suggested that it had been raining, the weather was fantastic and it looked as if we would be getting a cycle in today, thank heavens.


I reached Warlingham Green at just gone 0730hrs and there was no sign of Andy. Then I checked my phone and found a text. He'd had a puncture and was fixing it so I called Jon to see if he was going to drive over this way and do a cycle with us: no, he wasn't. As I checked out YouTube for Julian Cope videos, Andy arrived, puncture fixed.

We decided to go to Godstone Green the quick way and set off on our journey, discussing the recent shooting in Cumbria (loner cab driver Derrick Bird went on the rampage and killed 12 people). Then, as we reached the off-road bit on Southfields Road by the golf course (North Downs Golf Club) there was a familiar sound: pssssssssssssssssssssssssssst! Andy had another puncture!

Our puncture record of late has been pretty good. The last one was mine while on the Black Horse Ride last month. Why we've had so few punctures is anyone's guess. In the old days, when I first bought the Scrap I was getting loads of punctures and I put it down to the tyres on the bike (Tioga). I changed them to Maxxis Holy Rollers and all was relatively fine. The old Tioga tyres went on to my son Max's Specialized Hard Rock and then, for some reason, he took the back tyre off and replaced it with the originals that came with the bike. The Tioga was lying around the garage doing nothing – until Andy asked if he could have it for his Kona Blast. Why not? I drove round with the tyre, he fitted it and now he's had two punctures within the hour. I reckon it's the Tioga tyre and only time will tell if Andy gets loads of punctures. I've advised him to get some Holy Rollers.

A second puncture, of course, slowed us down so we abandoned plans to reach Godstone Green and headed for the Tatsfield bus stop instead. There was a lot of mist around, at times quite dense, but then that's what it's like round these parts; you can be driving along on a clear day and suddenly find yourself engulfed in fog.

The fog was thick at the bus stop but it began to clear and soon normal visibility was restored. I'd run out of teabags so I had to bring a couple of Earl Greys, which were fine. We munched on our cereal bars, chatted about this and that and then headed for home. Andy went back along The Ridge and I opted for the B269, staying 'off-road' and risking a puncture, but not actually getting one.

Once again, Blogger has let me down. It's temperamental, one minute it allows me to write captions and then (like now) it doesn't. so, from the top, the pix are the Tatsfield Bus Stop, then Andy at the Tatsfield Bus Stop and lastly, a shot looking towards Westerham from the bus stop – thick fog!

Saturday 5 June - Woodmansterne Green with Jon

Jon on Woodmansterne Green. Note cheeky grin after lewd 

conversation

Great weather on Saturday, but the promise of storms on Sunday. Andy wasn't going today so Woodmansterne seemed like a good bet, a 12-miler and some banter with Jon on the Green. We talked about the South Coast, the weather and the fact that summer time brings out the women – or rather brings them out in skimpy clothing. As you might imagine, the conversation got a bit juvenile, but we enjoyed it nonetheless.

We should have used Joyce Lowther's memorial bench but the weather was so too good to sit in the shade, so we loitered around the tree sculpture and drank tea; Jon bought a couple of cereal bars.

Woodmansterne Green – and we discover a park bench

Joyce Lowther's park bench on Woodmansterne Green

Not a great deal to report about today's cycle to Woodmansterne Green, other than the weather was pretty overcast and looked as if it might rain at any moment, despite forecasts to the contrary by the TV weathermen. It's still pretty dreary out there now.

Left the house later than usual – around 0745hrs – and reached the green around 0820hrs. We, that is Jon and I, chewed the fat about this and that and then set about trying to find an interesting photograph. We found this park bench, which is about as interesting as Woodmansterne Green gets; it's dedicated to Joyce Lowther who was born in 1914 and died in 1994, aged 80.

Assuming the bench had been in place since 1994 or thereabouts, it's odd that neither Jon nor I had noticed it before; clearly we're always too wrapped in the mundanities of our lives to notice old Joyce Lowther's memorial; but now, of course, we'll always remember it and might even use it the next time we cycle to the Green. I like that bit of concrete in front of the bench – somewhere to put the flask, unless, of course, she's buried under there; let's hope not.

Back to Basics at Botley...

My bike leaning against a sign at the Botley roundabout

Once, a long time ago, a friend of mine suggested that Quadrophenia, the album by The Who, could have been trimmed down from a double to a single album. Many people, of course, won't understand the terminology of single and double album because these days, Quadrophenia would come on just one CD or, indeed, be downloaded from itunes. In the old days of vinyl, however, albums were either just that – albums – or they were double albums, meaning two discs, and normally a really decent piece of double album packaging was involved: a fold-out cover which opened like a book was the norm and sometimes (as in the case of Quadrophenia) there was a kind of book thrown in too – black and white pictures of eel and pie shops, a half-eaten fried breakfast and that woman who impersonated the queen, whose name escapes me.

"Looking bleak at the Botley" and yes I sent this pic to Geoff

Althoff, the illustrious illustrator

Anyway, I'm digressing. This friend of mine who, sadly, I don't see anymore, used to say that if you cut out all the sound effects between the tracks, Quadrophenia would have been a very tight single disc album. Well, no... Quadrophenia is what was known as a 'concept album' and it was eventually turned into a film so I say no, it was what it was and cutting it down would have ruined it.

The only reason I remembered the conversation with my old pal (Andy Penfold) was because today I cycled out to Botley Hill Farm alone, something I haven't done for a long time. In fact I haven't really been that way alone for the best part of four years, as it was back in August of 2006 that Andy Smith and I started the cycling that led to this blog and all our adventures (see archive). I left the house just after 0730hrs, reached Botley about an hour later and then cycled home. I was back home at 0910hrs, a good two hours before the time we get back from Merstham on most Saturday mornings and it just got me thinking about how things have grown and expanded. From a small cycle out to Botley and back (very boring on my own, I hasten to add) we now have this blog, a number of different routes, there are tea and cereal bars, visits to Hunger's End for huge breakfasts accompanied by mugs of tea and, of course, there's the conversation. In other words, we've turned what could have been a single album into a double or maybe even a triple album, like Sandinista by the Clash (yes, I had the vinyl version, which was three discs).

Newspapers everywhere – so I nicked one!

I reached home at just gone 0900hrs.

The weather was fine today although there were a few large grey clouds looming. Fortunately, no rain. I went the fast way to Botley up the B269 and it was great. Not many cars about, cloudy but bright skies, the sun peeking through here and there and the only blight on the landscape was a load of newspapers that, I assumed, had literally fallen off the back of a lorry. They were everywhere and I managed to find a huge pile of poly-wrapped copies of the Daily Telegraph so I put one in my rucksack and carried on towards the seven-mile marker that was the Botley Hill Farmhouse pub, a great live music venue, as it happens. I carried on to the roundabout a few yards beyond the pub, took a few pix on my iphone and then headed back. There was a strong wind blowing in my face all the way home but I remained dry, there were no punctures – a big fear as I'd somehow mislaid my 'leeches', which would have meant walking home with the bike.

Back in 'the old days' before Andy and I started cycling, I used to take a photograph on my mobile phone of the fields surrounding the Botley Hill pub and send it to my pal Geoff Althoff, the illustrious illustrator. A short message would either read, 'bleak at the Botley' if the weather was poor or, conversely, 'bright at the Botley' if the weather was fine. This I did again today.

When I reached home it was porridge and tea and a browse through the Daily Telegraph, albeit yesterday's, but who cares, it was free!

'Down-and-outs', day dreaming and doughnuts

Andy's not around this weekend, so Jon and I met today (Saturday) on Woodmansterne Green. It's been a while since I've been over that way, but I was only planning on a short cycle today so it fitted the bill nicely.

The weathermen had promised rain from around lunchtime and then two excellent, sunny days tomorrow and Bank Holiday Monday, so here's hoping; although normally they get it slightly out of alignment, meaning, perhaps, that we'll get the rain throughout the night, a wet start tomorrow and then a nice, sunny day. If this is the case, I could get a soaking as my bike has no mudguards!

Peace protesters? Nope, children from the local churches in
and around Woodmansterne learning what it's like to be
homeless and living rough. They gave us  a doughnut. 

Back to today and as we approached Woodmansterne Green it looked as if a bunch of peace protestors had set up camp on the green. There were bits of old cardboard and other make-shift accommodation making lean-to style shelter for people – a bit like that bloke on Parliament Square. Or so it seemed... Closer inspection found the inhabitants of this cardboard city to be children and a couple of adults. I figured it was something to do with the local schools, but it turned out to be the church and a group of young kids learning what it's like to sleep rough and be homeless.

They camped out all night, according to a white-haired church-goer who, very kindly, provided Jon and I with a doughnut each. I spent the ride home wishing I hadn't accepted the stodgy foodstuff, but what is done is done, I figured, and started pedalling a little more vigorously in to burn off the accumulated fat on the six-mile jaunt home.

Time to go home. Jon, ready to head for home.

While on the green, Jon and I discussed our usual subject, that of winning loads of money and retiring to the south coast where we'd do absolutely nothing – apart from cycling on the beach at low tide. It hasn't happened yet, in case you were wondering, and probably never will – and now it definitely won't happen because, by writing it down, sub-consciously my brain was saying 'say it won't happen and it will' but because I am aware of that thought, it turns into a kind of inward and very conscious double bluff. In fact, now that I've written that down, I'm aware of what I was originally doing (setting myself up for a win along the lines of 'And there was me this morning saying it would never happen') I'll definitely not win now. And there, that does it, I'm going on about it, so I'll be forever poor and yes, I know, I shouldn't have said that either...or that...or that 'or that'...or that...

Jon's knee problem has gone and he admitted that going out for a run was definitely not a good idea. I told him it couldn't possibly be the cycling.

Doughnuts finished, tea drank, we headed off home, me fretting about that doughnut (next time it'll be 'oh, no, not for me, thanks all the same') and Jon dreaming about his lazy, millionaire's life on the south coast.

Stop press: at the time of writing now (1056hrs) the rain has started so I guess the weathermen were right this time and, fortunately, Jon and I got back just in time!

22 and 23 May – Merstham, Godstone and snakes in the grass

The weather didn't let us down this weekend. Not only was it forecast to be a scorcher, it really was a hot one. It makes a change. The last few weeks haven't been good, prompting posts on this blog about waterproof clothing. We've had a fair amount of soakings too and, yes, it was getting a little tedious.

This weekend, however, was a different kettle of fish: blue skies and sunshine. Check out the photograph (above) of Andy at Godstone Green, that hazy summer sun and the velvety grass. Hopefully we can put away our waterproofs for the next few months.

On Saturday we resolved to go to Merstham the long way round (see previous posts for details) and it proved a good cycle. Jon couldn't make it. I called him when Andy and I reached the quarry (and Andy took a leak) and he said he had a problem with his left knee. Andy said it could be something to do with the height of his saddle or, indeed, Jon's wonky pedals. Either way, Andy and I pushed on towards the caff (Hunger's End) where we enjoyed toast and jam, scrambled egg on toast and mugs of tea before heading home.

I went home via Caterham and, while a change from the usual route, it wasn't any quicker, thanks to hills, one being Tithepit Shaw Lane, a huge hill, but nothing's a problem where hills are concerned anymore, we just push on; it's a case of head down and get on with it. I reached home around 1110hrs but then we had dawdled a bit. I think we sat around at the caff for longer than usual.

A slow worm of the sort I saw near Bay Pond.
Photo courtesy of www.herpetofauna.co.uk

Sunday was a conventional ride to Godstone Green via Gangers Hill and the weather was fantastic. In fact, when we reached the green we both wanted to stay there for the rest of the day, it was that pleasant. But, as always, we both had things to do, namely a Sunday roast. On the way back towards Church Town, along the alley skirting Bay Pond, I rode over what looked like a snake. Andy reckons it was a Slowworm (or lizard without legs) and judging by a website I checked out this morning, that's exactly what it was. Click here for details. We watched as the slow worm or snake disappeared in the grass and then cycled home.

Godstone Green pond through the reeds – summer's here

During the day I drove out towards the route of last week's Black Horse Ride, in search of the Frog and Nightgown, but as usual, I didn't want to ask for directions when I realised we were lost. I eventually asked some people with horses for directions: turn left, then right, then left again and yes, we got there – but it was closed. We drove into Rusper for a pint of Harvey's, a mineral water, J2O and a couple of bags of Real crisps and sat in the summer sunshine in the pub's garden. Very pleasant.

A great weekend's cycling but my Spongy Wonder saddle needs replacement spongy bits, which I have in the garage. At the time of writing I still hadn't gotten round to it. This week, maybe.

The Frog & Nightgown

The Frog & Nightgown pub in Faygate where we stopped to fix my puncture. Sadly, we didn't have time to have a pint, but if you want to know more about this excellent little pub, click here.

The Black Horse Ride 2010 (May 16)

From left: Jon, me, Andy and Richard (Andy's mate).

The weather held out for us and was sunny most of the way round the circuit this year except for a few grey clouds and drops of rain. As Jon said on more than one occasion, "It's trying it's hardest to rain." Well, not hard enough, although I was wearing my Peter Storm waterproof top and had waterproof over trousers in my rucksack just in case of a major downpour.

Andy and I met at 0830hrs on the A23 and Jon met us further down at Merstham and then cycled through to the start line at the Black Horse pub in Reigate. Nick met us at the pub and so did Andy's mate Richard. This was Jon's first and my third Black Horse Ride, but Andy was on this fifth or sixth. David arrived on the Harley to be involved as a marshall, there were hot bacon sarnies, tea and coffee and this year, in addition to the piper, we had the Mayor of Reigate seeing us off.

From left: Richard, Andy and David (Harley man).

We had all opted for the 50-miler Black Horse ride and were given green number cards. I was 330 and Jon was 329 – there's probably a lottery number there somewhere. The ride started at 10am. 

For the early stages we all kept up a fair pace. In fact, most of the way round our energy levels – fuelled by many a banana – remained high. There was one point where the signage caused a lot of cyclists to go off route, but by the time we reached that point (Jon and Nick excluded as they'd been ahead of us) we had cyclists (including Jon) telling us to turn around. There was a left turn that a lot of the front runners had missed.

From left: Richard, Andy and Jon at Brockham.

The Black Horse ride is excellent. The route is superb as it follows some of the nicest quiet Surrey and Sussex roads, travels through some amazing villages and, well, as long as its not raining, it's the best.

Our first banana stop was in Brockham and by and large we kept going until Rusper where Jon and I stopped for something to eat and drink before heading off again. Everything was going smoothly and we really were gaining ground until, as we reached the Frog & Nightgown pub, my front tyre let me down. Yes, a puncture, and why? Because we'd gone along an off-road track. It cost me around 15 minutes so, if you include the eating stop, we were effectively 30 minutes behind. A quick release front wheel would have been useful.

My bike at the Frog & Nightgown pub near Faygate.

Energy levels remained high until the very end when the last few miles never seemed to end. Marshalls told us there were only three miles to go and then, whenever we met another marshall, it was always the same, 'oh, about three miles'.

The Black Horse ride was fine where hills were concerned; there weren't that many and when they did appear they were fine, certainly nothing like the big hills on our weekend cycling trips. Having said that, there were some punishing inclines towards the end but they were only punishing because we were getting tired. The worst was Trumpet Hill Lane right at the end before turning left on the road through Reigate Heath. Like all long cycling trips, it's the last few miles that are the worst.

Nick Thorp relaxing after the ride.

Jon and I crossed the finish line at 1520hrs and made our way round to the pub garden and a free burger with onions, not forgetting a free pint of Young's – just what the doctor ordered.

My family was there and it wasn't long before we were all together – Andy, Jon, Nick, Richard and myself. We had a few more beers and then, after Andy, Jon and Richard had gone home – Nick and I were going to cycle Redhill – and the rain came down hard. We ordered a couple more beers and sat underneath one of the umbrellas chatting about this and that before heading off in the drizzle to Redhill.

Jon having a well-earned pint of Young's after the ride.

I bade farewell to Nick and made my way through Redhill streets knowing that I could be arrested for being drunk in charge of a bicycle, a reality that came fairly close when I stumbled across three police cars and a bunch of coppers trying to quell some kind of disturbance between a group of 'youths'. I passed unnoticed, bought a ticket and jumped aboard the 1846 Victoria train, got off at East Croydon, took another train to Purley Oaks and then cycled home in the rain.

In fact, ironically, having brought with me waterproof trousers, I took a soaking mainly because I had a ten-minute ride to my house and couldn't be arsed to stop and put them on.

Thankfully, a Sunday roast was in full swing when I walked through the door; all that needed doing was the gravy! I went to bed at 9.30pm, woke up at 3am and then went back to sleep around 4am. Now, as I write this, I feel good: no aches and pains and no stiffness, thanks, I guess, to our regular weekend cycling jaunts.