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.