Nothing too exciting really happened this year. It was a very cold start. As per usual Cookie was late turning up, as he couldn’t decide which of his many girls’ blouses he should wear.A nice steady start saw much huffin & puffin from the cold air being su
cked in. As we approached the foot of Harewood End, the phone went off, “ where are you?” asked Wobbly Bob, when told he said we must have been the group of cyclists he could see on the A49.
One thing that became very apparent was how slippery the little roads were. There was a look of pure fear as Bill approached the first down hill. On the other side of the coin, Mary attacked the hill leaving everyone in her wake. I was sure she was an accid
ent waiting to happen. I suspected she just wanted the kiss of life off me!
The group at this point had become very elongated. As a responsible person I felt it best to look after everybody from the rear. At this point, we found young Tom inspecting the ice at close range. Having inspected the ice the previous week, a second inspection on the same side had removed the smile off his face. At this point Wobbly Bob on his mountain bike felt it best to walk with
Tom down Orcop hill. For the rest at the bottom their descent seemed to take an age, which could only be timed with a sundial. At this point Cookie was sent back, but refused, as the blouse he chose was a little tight. Mary who was without fear took up the mantle to search for them, only to find them just approaching around the last corner. With a swift heave on the bars she was then turning on the spot heading back. 2 minutes later Tom & Bob had covered the 30 metres to us. 
The race was now on to the coffee stop a ¼ mile later. Derek & Mary (different Mary) were waiting with the cowbells greeting us with nice hot drinks and cakes. A quick game of darts later, the hall looked like it was suffering with a sudden case of woodworm. A steady ride saw the group split again; this time with some thinking they were being clever using a short cut. With local knowledge, I knew their route would be an ice rink on the side of a mountain.
Once at the Bridge pub, the odd beer was consumed before what can only be described as a fantastic meal. A few more beers were then consumed before the sensible people started to leave. Dave Harwood looked upset to be led away by Taff, his nominated driver. Bet he wishes he had rode out! 
At this point the volume on some people started to rise a little more. A couple of more beers later, Wobbly Bob developed tourets . At 6:00 us sensible sober ones led him out to his bike. At this point, we knew there was a slight problem. Bob could not cycle, or walk. With lots of concentration he got himself going. The only problem with this was he needed to inspect the road and the hedges on a regular basis. On the big climb up Garway hill Tim & Mary stayed to keep an eye on him. Cookie and myself had got to the top in fine fettle.
On top of that mountain the winter breeze was racing in going through us. With The Moon public house beckoning us in, what could we do but go in for warm, and also compelled to buy a beer for the use of their warmth. !5 minutes turned into 25 waiting., best have another beer. As soon as it was bought the rest of the group turned up. As Wayne needed to get home the group left us, along with Wobbly Bob who now needed to phone his wife for help. Not a good thing to do with 2 small children in bed. But this may have saved him broken bones! 
As we waited it became apparent our glasses were empty again, but we were not in a position to leave Bob, so anther beer was ordered. Once Justine arrived, Cookie and I slid down out of view of the window till they had left; we didn’t want to find out how cross she was! Beer drank we left. The mistake made going down the little single-track road down to St Weonards. Avoiding the potholes and ruff surface managed to lose the front end breaking my collarbone. Cookie pulled me out of hedge before disappearing to get me transport home. Julie came out not very happy, to give me a lift home.
So as you can see, it was quite uneventful.
cked in. As we approached the foot of Harewood End, the phone went off, “ where are you?” asked Wobbly Bob, when told he said we must have been the group of cyclists he could see on the A49.One thing that became very apparent was how slippery the little roads were. There was a look of pure fear as Bill approached the first down hill. On the other side of the coin, Mary attacked the hill leaving everyone in her wake. I was sure she was an accid
ent waiting to happen. I suspected she just wanted the kiss of life off me!The group at this point had become very elongated. As a responsible person I felt it best to look after everybody from the rear. At this point, we found young Tom inspecting the ice at close range. Having inspected the ice the previous week, a second inspection on the same side had removed the smile off his face. At this point Wobbly Bob on his mountain bike felt it best to walk with
Tom down Orcop hill. For the rest at the bottom their descent seemed to take an age, which could only be timed with a sundial. At this point Cookie was sent back, but refused, as the blouse he chose was a little tight. Mary who was without fear took up the mantle to search for them, only to find them just approaching around the last corner. With a swift heave on the bars she was then turning on the spot heading back. 2 minutes later Tom & Bob had covered the 30 metres to us. 
The race was now on to the coffee stop a ¼ mile later. Derek & Mary (different Mary) were waiting with the cowbells greeting us with nice hot drinks and cakes. A quick game of darts later, the hall looked like it was suffering with a sudden case of woodworm. A steady ride saw the group split again; this time with some thinking they were being clever using a short cut. With local knowledge, I knew their route would be an ice rink on the side of a mountain.
Once at the Bridge pub, the odd beer was consumed before what can only be described as a fantastic meal. A few more beers were then consumed before the sensible people started to leave. Dave Harwood looked upset to be led away by Taff, his nominated driver. Bet he wishes he had rode out! 
At this point the volume on some people started to rise a little more. A couple of more beers later, Wobbly Bob developed tourets . At 6:00 us sensible sober ones led him out to his bike. At this point, we knew there was a slight problem. Bob could not cycle, or walk. With lots of concentration he got himself going. The only problem with this was he needed to inspect the road and the hedges on a regular basis. On the big climb up Garway hill Tim & Mary stayed to keep an eye on him. Cookie and myself had got to the top in fine fettle.
On top of that mountain the winter breeze was racing in going through us. With The Moon public house beckoning us in, what could we do but go in for warm, and also compelled to buy a beer for the use of their warmth. !5 minutes turned into 25 waiting., best have another beer. As soon as it was bought the rest of the group turned up. As Wayne needed to get home the group left us, along with Wobbly Bob who now needed to phone his wife for help. Not a good thing to do with 2 small children in bed. But this may have saved him broken bones! 
As we waited it became apparent our glasses were empty again, but we were not in a position to leave Bob, so anther beer was ordered. Once Justine arrived, Cookie and I slid down out of view of the window till they had left; we didn’t want to find out how cross she was! Beer drank we left. The mistake made going down the little single-track road down to St Weonards. Avoiding the potholes and ruff surface managed to lose the front end breaking my collarbone. Cookie pulled me out of hedge before disappearing to get me transport home. Julie came out not very happy, to give me a lift home.So as you can see, it was quite uneventful.
