The First Noel- December 12th

Hard to believe that it's neally three months since the end of season tour, but here we are on our pre-Xmas Dinner ride.

The weather may have been in flux since the tour - an Indian summer giving way to a soggy autumn and foggy winter- but some things never change. It's almost three months to the day since we waited outside the Old Sun for Mick to fettle his bike (with a twig!) before setting off for Market Harborough. Now we wait in the self same spot while he changes a tyre that has been flat since the end of that ride. There's nothing like being prepared....

Plus Ca Change

Fortunately we don't get too cold as there's been a marked improvement in the weather- the fog that's been around for much of the week giving way to sunny spells and blue skies.


We finally get on the way, headed for Deadman's Cross, via Water End, Clophill and Apley Corner. There are six of us- Brian, Richard, Joe, Chris H, John & Mick; Clive having cried off suffering from jet lag- an Ampthill CC first, I think.


None of us has ridden much in recent weeks and the pace is steady rather than brisk. This is in keeping with the spirit of the traditional Xmas ride. It's very much a token gesture to off-set some of the excesses of the evening's drinking and eating.

Just as we're getting into a rhythm John pulls up with the second puncture of the day. He's fast becoming the Puncture King having had no fewer than four flats on his last MTB ride.

The tyre's soon changed and we set off again- hitting what seems like rush-hour in Clophill High Street.

The climb up Great Lane is harder than usual and we are well strung out by the time we reach the old school in Haynes. We stop to re-group before heading for Apley End where we pick up the concrete bridleway out to Chicksands. Here we encounter a dozen or so portly gentlemen who have spent the day terrorising the local pheasant population- Amazingly they must be the only guns in Bedfordshire that Joe doesn't know.
Cutting back through Haynes Silver End we met a couple of 10-year-olds on MTB's. Fascinated by a bunch of old gits riding bikes they heclked us as we past. They were obviously reminded of the Worzels (Joe's beard, perhaps?) and gave us a chorus of Oi've Gotta Brand New Combine Harvester.

It's starting to cool down and the sun is low in the sky as we get to Deadman's Cross, so we decide to abandon our original plans of heading to Southill via Ireland and head back to the Stone Jug. Only when we get inside do we realise just how cold it has become. The welcome is just as warm as the pub itself and it's hard to pull ourselves away. Not for the first time this year, we have an extra pint before heading out into the dark.

Badger Hill seems to have got steeper over the past few weeks and we are secretly glad of the excuse to stop at temporary traffic lights halfway up. Then there's a charge back to Ampthill in time for "The Three S's" before heading out for the evenings festivities. Just as we enter town Joe takes the opportunity to wave to members of his fan club and manages a somersault over the handlebars for their entertainment. There's no damage to bike or biker and we head of home to prepare for the evening's festivities.


An excellent way to spend a winter's afternoon whilst managing to clock up a steady 20 miles.

And Then There Were Three

Having not managed anything more than a token 10 mile ride around the soon-to-be-Centre Park site for nearly a month, I fully expected Sunday's ride to hurt. Combine this with a weather forecast that threatened strong northerly winds & heavy showers and a distinctly delicate head (the latter resulting from the need to anaesthetise myself against the pain of seeing Wolves ravaged by the Gooners) and you'll understand why I was hoping my fellow riders would phone to say they'd cocked up their diaries and couldn't make it after all.

There was no such call, so I had no option than to drag myself out of the pit and prepare for my first ride since the clocks went back. Remembering to avoid the Sunday AM repeat of MoTD ( surely such horrors should not be shown before the 9 pm watershed) as I made porridge and hunted my waterproof top, I staggered out to the garage in the drizzle . By the time I'd checked tyres, oiled chain and adjusted saddle the rain had stopped and I set off on the lung bursting climb up Ampthill Hill in not unpleasant conditions.

Brian & Richard were already waiting in the Market Square- all other potential riders having found excuses. After a surreal discussion about curtain rails and curtain hooks, we decided to head for Eversholt via Flitwick, Steppingley and Water End.

This is not the most obvious route but it was designed to take in one of the best bits of single-track in the area. Secluded in the woods next to the M1, it offers 1/2 a mile of fast switchbacks- made extra interesting this time of year by the blanket of leaves covering the trail. (Come to think of it, there are few times in the year when you can see the track- as it's shrouded variously in bluebells, bracken and brambles.

It was worth the grind through the mud (and smack in the face from a rogue branch) to get to the start as the single-track itself was in perfect nick. In fact, it was so good we decided to ride back up it. This proved almost as interesting as the downhill version albeit somewhat slower.

After a short stretch on the road, we picked up the bridleway at Waterend and headed out to Eversholt via the stream. We've obviously had more rain than we realised and there were a few wobbles as we entered the water.

By now all mist and drizzle had disappeared and the sun was doing it's best to show through. Conditions were pretty well perfect as we picked up the farm track out towards Tingrith. Cutting through the woods behind Steppingley, we fetched up on the newly surfaced Peaks End, the location of one of the weirdest encounters of the summer.

Returning from a similar ride, Brian, John and Richard came across an up-turned car in the middle of the track. A middle aged woman was suspended upside down in the driver's seat; there were no signs of any other vehicle or animal and no obvious cause of the accident. Fortunately the woman was just shaken. Playing the Good Samaritans, the guys helped her out of the car, phoned the emergency services and made contact with her son. The son was first to arrive and proved himself to be a total git.
After a brief rant at his mother for being so stupid, he turned his attention to Richard and John. Without bothering to ask what had happened, he'd decided that , as they were cyclists, they must have been responsible for the accident and launched a torrent of abuse! Taken aback by the reaction, they were too stunned to put him right and decided to head for home.

Any way, no such incident today and we headed back past the pumping station, down to Windmill Road and back via the Causeway & Manor Lane. Some how we'd managed to clock nearly 20 miles by the time we got home. The head was clear and the legs only ached a bit- well worth the effort, even of the bike does need a clean.

New Boots & Panties

Well- after about five years of talking, it seems we're finally going to get new shirts. Well done Mr R for getting off his backside and taking this on.

Of course, this does throw up a number of potential issues- not least of which is the shirt design. Despite being designed by committee, somehow the original shirts turned out pretty well (the odd typo not withstanding- Kieth!) but we did get bogged down with individuals providing their own logos (or not). Whilst not being superstitious, it may be wise to resist that this time round as, with the exception of the Old Sun, none of the businesses featured is still trading. We probably need to keep this fact away from any potential sponsors!

Furthermore, new shirts will mean, for the majority of us, choice and choice brings a need for decisions.
Which of us has not been through the excruciating exercise of getting ready to go out with the "Uvver 'Alf"? We grab whichever jeans and tee shirt are clean (or least dirty) and then sit and wait while they decide what to wear. This can take several hours while they try on the entire wardrobe because a) they have a choice and b) they're worried what everybody else will wear.

Over the years, we've proved that decision making is not our forte. Witness the annual fiasco of agreeing tour dates or even selecting dishes for the Xmas meal. This can take weeks and half of us still forget what we ordered when we get there.

Will we now be ringing around on a Tuesday to see which shirt everybody is going to wear on Thursday? Who will be arbiter? Will anybody who wears the wrong shirt be forced to ride a different route or sit on the other side of the pub? Perhaps we'll have to have separate whips for the ale.

Then there'is the matter of accessories. Again, taking the lead from the Uvver 'Alf, will we not need new shorts and shoes to go with our shirts? If so, remember Mick's recent advice and buy black not red shorts!

There's so much to worry about; I 'd go and contemplate this over a coffee, but I'd have to decide between cappuccino, latte, espresso, Americano............

Fall Out

With the nights drawing in and a decidedly autumnal feel to the weather, we have come to the end of yet another seasons riding. A few of the guys have manged to get out over the weeks since the tour- Mick, Loren & Keith keeping going to the last- but Thursday rides have now finished until April. It's been one of the best summers I can remember, despite the weather. We've had some memorable rides and the club has been rejuvenated by new members and a few returning old faces. It would be good to see even more riders joining us in the spring.

We're planning a ride on 12th December before Christmas dinner at the Jolly Coopers- watch this space for details- and the mountain bikers will continue to ride pretty much every weekend throughout the year. (If you want details email chedge@hotmail.co.uk)

Posts will be less frequent but I'm working on (unreliable) histories of the club & past tours and a review of the season. The odd MTB review will be thrown in for good measure so please keep visiting the site and don't forget to have a look at some of our advertisers.

The Grand Tour- 5th-6th September

This year's tour stands out for a number of reasons- pretty well all positive. The round trip to Market Harborough was, at 120 miles, the longest two day excursion we' ve had by some margin. In marked contrast to recent tours, last year's in particular, not one drop of rain fell- although the wind was almost as strong as the return trip from Weedon in 2006 and we managed to complete it without any serious incidents.

Much of the first day's riding followed Sustrans Route 6 along canal towpaths, abandoned railway lines and Milton Keynes' eponymous Red Routes. (After about two miles of riding on red tarmac Joe was awarded his Observer's Badge for his helpful comment that "This could be the red route you know".) Whilst the surface of these tracks sometimes leaves a bit to be desired- especially for those with full-on race bikes- they follow gentle contours, keep away from traffic & the tree lined cuttings provide a windbreak which was very welcome at times. In contrast, Sunday's ride was almost entirely on the road; the first half following a roller coaster route through the Northamptonshire countryside followed by the more gentle lanes of Bedfordshire.

Predictably, we managed to stray off the route several times, usually when we allowed Mick and/or Everton to set the pace- neither having seen the map, but Chris H also managed to lead us round an unnecessary two mile loop through Aspley Guise- So much for local knowledge.

Much of Route 6 is clearly waymarked, but the best signage tends to be where the route is most obvious. In a number of sections the signs seem to disappear. Maybe they've been nicked but as a consequence we spent a good deal of time trying to find our way out of Wolverton & Northampton town centre- probably the worst bits of the route to be lost in.

Our travels took us through a real cross section of English settlements. The picturesque Northants villages have a look of the Cotswolds with their cream sandstone walls and tiled roofs. This was in marked contrast to the Saturday afternoon bustle of Northampton town centre, the sub-urbs of Milton Keynes and the railway town of Wolverton. The latter could easily have been transported from the industrial north west with it's rows of terraced houses, working men's clubs and empty rail yards. On the other hand Market Harborough is the archetypal market town which showed little signs of the recession.

It wouldn't be a tour without at least one idiot in a car. For good measure we had three. The first was an old git in ( surprise, surprise) a Rover estate who we met on a dead straight 'A' road while riding in double file. The view ahead was clear for at least 400m and there was no on-coming traffic. This was apparently not good enough for him- Why should he go to the trouble of turning his steering wheel 10 degrees to go round us?- The blast on his horn was greeted by a number of hand signals he'll not find in the highway code if he ever bothers to read it!

The second episode involved two boy racers in an M3 and an Audi. Obviously in a rush to get to the pub post Sunday football, both cars redlined as they came within a foot of our single file group on a very bendy country lane. Whilst the first incident was annoying, this was down right dangerous. We thought we might have to drag Everton away when we saw the culprits outside a pub half an hour later but he decided discretion was the better part of valour.

Having recently discovered how to transfer photos from phone to computer, Mick decided to go one better and appointed himself official cameraman for the tour. Riding from back to front of the pack as we rode alongside the Grand Union Canal, our very own David Lean proceeded to capture us all for posterity- It was all going well until he looked back for one last panoramic shot. Trees, sky and grass filled the screen as he went arse over tit. If he works out how to transfer the images from his phone, we hope to bring you the full un-edited version to these very pages.

Mick managed the only other crash of the weekend; completing a full somersault as he braked to avoid running into the back of the pack in Market Harborough. Unlike last year there were no injuries other than Mick's pride. This time the worst that happened to Loren was an un planned paddle in a stream as he rinsed the oil from his hands following a minor mechanical. He thought he could get away with drying his feet at lunch time.....

As usual, food & drink were pretty high on the agenda, and not necessarily in that order. On the whole we were pretty lucky with our choices- thanks to pre- planning by CP.

First stop was the Rose & Crown at Hartwell- a traditional village pub offering a good range of ales and value for money no-nonsense pub grub. I forget what beer was on offer but have a feeling Tim Taylor's was amongst the selection along with a couple of local brews- all well kept. Service was friendly- even when Loren took his socks off, but the locals seemed surprised to see only five toes on a foot.

We didn't stop again until we reached the Three Swans in Market Harborough- our destination for the night. For the whole stay we got service with a smile; the rooms were good as was breakfast. Most importantly, the Bombardier served in the bar was tip top and it was hard to pull ourselves away to the Oat Hill- venue for our evening meal.

Something of hotch potch, this pub aims itself at the well-heeled trendies of Market Harborough (Another oxymoron?) The separate restaurant offers a good range of quality food and, whilst those who chose the lamb shank thought it should have been cooked for a few more days it generally got a thumbs up. Despite it's trendy aspirations the Oat Hill makes much of it's beer, offering a wide range of cask ales and bottled beers. Unfortunately this didn't quite come up to the mark and we returned a full round of Tim Taylor's. To their credit, these were exchanged without (too much) fuss.

By the time we finished our meal the place was buzzing but we decided to go in search of something more traditional. The answer to our quest lay almost opposite in the form of the Cherry Tree, an Everard's managed house. The garish external appearance belied the traditional interior complete with bare wooden floors and table skittles.

After a couple of beers and a few games of skittles we were joined by one of the locals. Built like a brick sh*t house and clearly the worse for wear, at first we weren't sure of his intentions, but after joining in a chorus of Delilah he decided to give us lessons in table skittles. Sober, he may be world champion and he could certainly throw the cheese harder than anybody but he was so pissed he couldn't hit the table and it was a relief when he went to sit in the corner. We staggered back to town where a few of us light weights wimped out- The rest went on to the pub opposite the hotel. Whilst there were reports that the real die-hards were going until 2 am, everybody made it for breakfast, even if some were not as bright and breezy as the previous day.

The cycle route along the railway line between Northampton & Market Harborough passes through two tunnels. They aren't lit and the only light comes from the exit at the far end. This has a strange effect as your eyes can't decide whether to adapt to the dark around you or the light in the distance. We walked the first tunnel in a noisy group but got strung out in the second one. Other users were much quieter than us and it was weird how their shadowy grey forms materialised from the dark as they past by- perhaps they really were ghosts. The setting was like something our of Oh Mr Porter and it wouldn't have been a surprise if Will Hay had appeared on a pump truck.

Anyway, after some debate we "agreed" not to follow the railway on Sunday and set off on the road. Spirits were high, despite the strong wind and numerous hills and after about two hours we crossed Pitsford reservoir via the Causeway. After yet another climb up to the village of Hulcott we stopped to regroup at a cross roads where a signpost told us we were only 6 miles from Market Harborough. This caused a variety of reactions with Mr P getting lots of stick about his choice of route. However a quick review of the map confirmed we were well on our way towards home and that the signpost was bo**ocks. Intrigued by the name more than anything, we decided to head for Bozeat for lunch. We were disappointed to find a grotty boozer with nothing more than crisps on the menu and our friends from the BMW and Audi sat outside, so we pushed on to Harold.

Again we were disappointed as we found none of the pubs was serving food other than full Sunday lunch. After much debate, and realising that time was pressing, we descended on the tea rooms in Harold Country Park. I'm not sure they quite knew what hit them (especially when Tom P ordered cream cake as his starter and baked spud for pud). It must have looked like an episode of Last of the Summer Wine.

After refuelling, we pushed on for home. Electing to cut through Marston Milleneum Park, our hearts sank as we discovered Millbrook cross roads was shut for repairs. A three mile detour via Liddlingtom hill looked inevitable but we sent our very own Henry Kissinger, aka Mick, in to negotiate and were soon waived through. One last climb took us up to Millbrook and then it was every man for himself as we charged back to the Old Sun to round off a superb weekend with a couple more beers.

A collective thanks goes to CP for great organisation, Anne R for dropping the bags off and Keith W for bringing them home. For a full set of photos see http://www.flickr.com/photos/bikesbeerbanter/

27th August- Last of the Summer Wine

It's scary that we're nearing the end of August and that there'll not be many more Thursday night rides this year. This was brought home by the fact that we arrived at the pub in in the dark for the first time this season.

The pub in question was the Jolly Cooper's at Wardhedges (no relation)- yet another Charles Wells establishment offering good beer and a warm welcome. So good were both that none of us could understand why we've only been there once this year. It's been added to our shortlist of two as a potential venue for this year's Christmas bash.

We arrived at the Jolly's via Steppingley, Ridgmont, Woburn & Westoning on another blustery evening. There were nine of us - CP/CH/Brian/Richard the Pub/Mark the Fireman/Mick/Loren/Paresh & Clive, the latter two making their first appearances for some weeks. The ride itself was fairly un-eventful although we did provide an answer to that age old riddle- "How many cyclists does it take to change a tyre?" Answer-"Lots" especially if half of them are providing a very un-helpful commentary. This was demonstrated by CP who punctured before we got to Steppingley and captured on camera by Mick. The Ferrari pit crew has nothing to worry about!

Once we got going, we set a steady pace to Ridgmont- The usual sprint down the back of the safari park was hindered by the wind and even though we were in a disciplined formation for once we hardly topped 25 mph.

The ale in the Jolly's was the appropriately named Summer Lightning. As has become the norm of late, we stayed for an extra pint or so. Talk of the forthcoming tour prompted many war stories of past trips- some of which may even have been true and by the time we left it was pitch black and pretty cool. Brian had taken much stick about his new Audrey Hepburn style arm warmers but I think he had the last laugh as we were met by a chill wind at Hollerton Basin.

Our departure was somewhat shambolic (nothing to do with the beer, honest) and we split into four different groups, taking three different routes for the ride home. The real hardcore headed back to the Old Sun whilst the rest decided to call it a (very enjoyable) night.


25 miles at 14.5 mph

20th August- All Quiet on the Wetern Front

Eight out-Brian, Mick, Chris P & Tom, Mark, Clive, Kieth & Everton.

From the Old Sun we left Ampthill via Abbey Lane. After running parallel with the by-pass for a mile or so we crossed using the new(ish) cycle crossing- It only took 10 years of campaigning to get this installed but there are still no signs to let you know it’s there. After the by-pass, we climbed through Silsoe & Wardhedges and on to Pulloxhill. Our toils were repaid as we sped down the steep hill to join the busy A6 at Speed the Plough.
The wind was blustery and making it hard work- a constant theme of this summer. Crossing the A6 we picked up the cycle path, for once in good condition (so often in the summer it’s completely overgrown).
We re-grouped at the roundabout where we left the cycle track and headed for Higham Gobian then on through Shillington and Upper Gravenhurst.
From there it was a quick sprint to Clophill, where Clive had a run in with an idiot car driver, who questioned his parentage.
Fortunately Mick’s mischief on our last visit to the Stone Jug had been forgotten. We stayed for an extra beer by which time it was a good bit chillier as we slogged our way up Badger Hill.
The Tandem Boys led the way back to Ampthill but there was some suggestion of impropriety at the Ailesbury Road roundabout and there may be cause for a steward’s enquiry.
A very pleasant but uneventful ride, even with Mick with us. Somewhere between 20 & 30 miles.