The Dunwich Dynamo

Dunwich Dynamo riders reach the beach

Andy sent me a link for a ride of 120 miles. It starts in the evening and ends in the morning and runs from Hackney through to the Suffolk coast at Dunwich, braving the urban hell that is Epping Forest and, of course, the darkness of night. Riders are advised to bring lights and batteries – so if we do it, I'll have to get my act together.

It sounds like a bridge too far unless we've slept during the day as I'd imagine the fatigue would be high octane considering the distance and the fact that your body will tell you to get 50 winks, but apparently it's a great feeling arriving at Dunwich in the early hours having already watched the sunrise en route – and you're even advised to take a dip.

I have to admit that it is tempting, especially as I've discovered the next one is in July, meaning it should be pretty warm. However, I think we'd have to get some practice in for 120 miles, ie a run to Bognor Regis AND back! A tall order? Possibly.

Here are two links worth checking out. One is an article penned by a rider on the Dunwich Dynamo (great name, by the way) and the other is details of the ride itself.

The worst thing about it, I guess, is the fact that it's not organised. By that I mean there are no marshals and it really is every man for himself. There's also been a fatality and a few close shaves.

Click here for ride details.

Click here for the article about the ride.

How very dare they!

Lonely Planet has the audacity to brand Surrey as uninspiring and dull. Nothing could be further from the truth in NoVisibleLycra's opinion.

Click here for more.

This is the last one, we promise! (Well, perhaps one more).

I won't even make a witty remark.

One way cycle to see dad...

Despite the miserable start to the day weatherwise, I cycled over to see dad around 4pm; it's around six miles through a mainly urban landscape. Make that suburban. Dad was still roughly the same as he has been for the past fortnight, with no real improvement in sight. The big problem was his lack of sleep and, more importantly, his inability to take in liquids. In other words, he was getting seriously dehydrated.

When I got there around 4pm, both mum and dad were of the opinion that they simply couldn't wait until mid-May to get things moving. They suggested to me that we go to the A&E. I called NHS Direct for some advice and in the end Jon drove over and we took him up to the hospital. They checked him out, confirmed he was dehydrated and, frankly, in a bit of mess, and decided he ought to stay in.

What amazes all of us is that his GP was quite happy to leave him stewing at home, getting steadily worse with no real end in sight. Still, he's in a good place and he's being looked after and that's the main thing.

I reached home around 1045 and watched TV for 15 minutes or so and then went to bed.

I'll probably go back over there for the bike later today.

Another nice day!

Sunday 8 May: It's 0844hrs and the rain has gone, the sun is out and the sky is blue, but we've lost momentum on a ride today, although I'll probably cycle over to dad's later on to check on his state of health. It's really good out there and I bet Andy's thinking the same thing – a quick ride to Botley Hill or the Tatsfield Bus Stop; but things have moved on and I have many other commitments.

The car can't be used because it lacks an MOT and needs work done, but that'll be sorted by tomorrow. As for now, well, we can only think of what might have been, but the weather out there is perfect.

A carbon copy of yesterday morning...but an 'abort' text is likely

Sunday 8 May: I woke up later this morning; not because the alarm didn't go off (I hadn't set it) but just because I lay there in bed, looking out on what was a bright morning. I hadn't drawn the curtains the night before and the sunlight woke me up without any prompting from the iPhone, which was downstairs charging in the kitchen.

Yesterday I cycled over to dad's and found his state of health unchanged from the day before. Dad was in bed, his stomach still bloated, legs still swollen and his voice still weak. I'd taken him to the doctor last Thursday and, to be honest, they weren't taking things as seriously as they should have been: instead of insisting on immediate tests, he's had to wait until later this month and yesterday, dad told me he was having trouble drinking liquid – not good when you consider we all need liquids to survive.

I called NHS Direct and chatted to a nurse, explaining dad's symptoms using the iPhone's speaker facility. She sent a doctor round and he kind of confirmed what we knew all along – that there was something (a growth, a cyst, something) and whatever it was, it was the cause of the problem. He suggested that dad re-connects with his GP (who he'd seen on Thursday last week) and, I'd imagine, insist on getting things moving a little quicker. So, tomorrow (Monday) hopefully the ball will start moving a little faster.

Meanwhile we all wait. I had difficulty getting to sleep last night as a result. This sort of thing plays on my mind as I consider dad's age – he'll be 82 in September – and I know it's playing on Jon's and Cris' minds too, not to mention dad's. I'm optimistic that whatever it is can be cured but dad's looking very grey and I know we're all worrying about it.

Outside, the weather is similar to yesterday: outbursts of rain. I've sent Andy a text saying let's see what it's like at 7am – that's 15 minutes from now, time for another cup of tea. Normally, when it rains here, it hits Caterham a few minutes later – or vice versa – so I'd imagine that right now, Andy is gazing out of his window at the rain.

Somehow the rain looks more set-in than yesterday, so I guess it's going to be an 'abort' text very shortly. As I write, it's heavy and grey and I've just discovered that I didn't come anywhere near on the National Lottery – not even a tenner. That's life, I guess, as dad would say.

...and then we went out!

Saturday 7 May: The rain shower was brief and to the point and suddenly, after a major downpour, it stopped and the world became a brighter place. It was as if somebody had turned up the brightness control on the television. The skies went from grey to blue and all that was left of the rain was a few puddles – not good for me as I don't have any mudguards. Still, the weather was inspiring enough for me to text Andy and suggest a fast one to Botley Hill, which ended up as being a ride to the Tatsfield Bus Stop (when there's rain about, you ride out to places where there's cover).

The ride was fine, but I was managing to get a uncomfortable rear end, thanks to the puddles and by the time we reached the bus stop, my arse was like a sponge – now there's an image you don't want to dwell on for too long.

Andy had another idea for our multiple personality photographs, although he did say it was getting a little boring and that bar one other idea that we can't put into practice yet (it requires a ramp and an open space) there will be no more.

We sat and chewed the fat and watched the rain start up again, hoping that it would stop before we made our way home. It did stop, but again, the wetness on the roads managed to soak yours truly and once again I started thinking about mudguards and making my bike a little more sensible.

As I climbed Church Way to meet Andy, my mobile dinged. I had a text from Andy saying okay to meeting at 0815hrs at the Green. Stopping in the road, I engaged one of the residents in conversation. We chatted about bikes and how 'in his day' he used to build his own bikes. Me too, I told him. He liked the Scrap and was intrigued (as most people are) by the Spongy Wonder saddle. "It's there to protect your bits," I told him, and we moved on to the subject of supermodel Kate Moss who I thought used to live in Church Way. It turns out that her aunty lives here still and that Moss never did, but resided instead somewhere in the Purley Oaks region.

That's about it. Outside now the weather has brightened up, but there won't be much in the way of gardening until things dry out a little bit.

My dad is still poorly. I took him to the doctor on Thursday and he's now booked in for an MRi scan, endoscopy and a blood test. They did the latter at home and the MRi is set for 19 May. I hope he's going to pull through as I've never seen him look so grey and old. Mind you, he is grey and old, he's 82 in September.

Checked on mum just a second ago and she said that, despite taking the sleeping pills, he still didn't get a good night's sleep, which is not good. He's in bed as I write this and I'll try to get over there either today or tomorrow, although it looks as if I'll have to cycle the six miles (not far, but it's the traffic that's bad). Our car needs an MOT (that's Ministry of Transport test) and cars without MOTs are generally not insured either, or the insurance is voided if you drive without an MOT. So we're going to be a little stranded this weekend, which is a nuisance.

Avoided a soaking this morning...

Saturday 7 May: Sitting in the conservatory early on a Saturday morning is part of my routine. Ever since we've been cycling, I've sat here, on the computer, checking emails, sipping tea and generally enjoying an hour or so of chilling and waking myself up slowly.

Over the past few weeks, the weather here in the UK has been fantastic and, if you check out recent posts, you'll see the evidence: blue skies, sunshine – simply amazing.

Today, however, things are different. When I first looked out of the window, it looked promising, but grey clouds were gathering and then there was a spit or two of rain. After a short while it got heavier and now, as I write this, it's coming down in buckets.

I sent a text to Andy when it was just spitting and we thought we'd go for Botley Hill, but then it got heavier, so I sent another text and we aborted. The heavy rain has reached Andy as I then received a text saying he was glad we'd aborted the ride.

Looking out there now, it's pretty unpleasant, but the fact that we avoided a soaking is paramount as I couldn't face it after the recent bout of sunshine. Hopefully, we'll go tomorrow – weather permitting.

How the mighty have fallen!

Sign of the times.

Austerity measures stretch to road signs too. Check out the photograph at the top of the blog, the road sign. Now, check out the photograph above. They're one and the same, except that, after the sign fell over some months ago – and remained uprooted and on display for all to see for weeks – it was eventually fixed. The result is disappointing as the iconic sign is a shadow of its former self – but it's good to see that the Reptile Zoo and Beaver Water World are still going strong. You can just see the famous Tatsfield Bus Stop on the top left of the shot.

To Botley Hill Farmhouse – and back in double-quick time!

Yours truly with a mug of tea outside the Botley Hill Farmhouse, Monday 2 May 2011.
That poster ought to be taken down.

It looks as if both Andy and I felt a little guilty about being out all day on Saturday and ignoring our respective families, so we decided to cut it short on Monday 2 May and cycle to Botley Hill, drink our tea quickly and return home.

Having suffered considerably from the sun on our Saturday excursion, Andy arrived at Warlingham Green looking a bit like a buttered chicken ready for the oven – he was covered in Factor 50 sunblock! Not a bad move, though, as the sun was already hot as the good weather here continues apace. I, being the foolish one, had no sunblock AND a short-sleeved tee-shirt, but being darker than Andy, I don't suffer as much.

So, off we toddled to Botley Hill. The original plan had been the Tatsfield Bus Stop, but we decided to make it a short one and get back home.

Andy took this self-timered shot of us at Longford Lake. Note high strength
beers in hand!

We both agreed that drinking three pints of Harvey's Royal Nuptial Ale was probably a mistake, bearing in mind that we had to cycle home from Longford Lake, and resolved only to drink low-strength beer (and a maximum of two pints) the next time we find ourselves outside of a pub with the bikes.