Articles from the Newsletter July/August 2007

I blame the leader   says Andy Bebington

This year's Breakfast Ride, two days after the summer solstice and thus at the end of "flaming June", was attended by rain, which started at the same time as we did, and lasted throughout the day (except for a dry spell which, typically, was during our lunch break). Plan 'A' we were told, had been to have breakfast in Billingshurst and to have coffee at Goodwood - but our leader allowed Goodwood's management to organise a Festival of Speed for that weekend, instead of insisting on a postponement as would have been fully justified; so we went to Plan ‘B’. This involved breakfast at Hickstead - but on arrival, we were met with locked doors and a note in the window advising that they were closed ‘for technical reasons’ - probably because the chef had overslept. One would have expected our leader to go and wake him up, but instead we went for Plan ‘C’. This led us, after 40-odd miles, to breakfast at Steyning - except that, when we arrived at 8.45 a.m. they were closed ‘until 9 o'clock’ it said on the door. We retreated to a bus shelter across the road and proceeded to wring out gloves, socks, etc. while waiting to be allowed inside the cafe. To be fair to our leader, the breakfast was as good as that for Plan ‘B' would have been, and at about half the price; but this was not a result of anything HE did. By the time we left the cafe it was 10.20 a.m. and we agreed to abandon the coffee stop (having consumed extra coffee with breakfast) and to head for lunch which was secured at Wimlands, where they don't serve meals. Fear not, gentle reader, we didn't starve, even he who had not brought sandwiches or a pasty - for they supply nibbles in some quantity and we took full advantage. Ashby Convention on Lunchtime Drinking was sufficiently suspended as to (a) make us too late for a tea stop and (b) induce a number of stops on the way home for the purposes of checking humidity levels in local gateways and fields. By dint of making a couple of detours on the way home from central Croydon, I clocked up 100 miles on the day and arrived home tired but happy, despite having only two stops instead of four as is usual for Breakfast Rides. Like I say, I blame the leader.

Musings of a cyclists wife  (from bicycle.net sent in by Neville Chanin)

It is a beautiful Sunday morning in Southern California. In our surrounding neighbourhood there are families going for walks, breakfasting at the Coffee Bean, or enjoying a lazy morning at home. At any given moment in my house there is a baby attached to my chest and two pre-schoolers who are either (a) fighting, (b) crying. (c) asking for something, or (d) spilling something. I have laundry up to my ears and cereal on my kitchen floor. Where, you may ask, is my husband? Ah yes.... he is cycling. My husband and I strive to have a marriage of mutual respect. He frequently calls to ask me if it's okay that he attend a class in the evening, meet a friend for dinner, or for any reason disappear from the house when I might have needed his help. Sunday mornings, however, are a different story On Sunday mornings he is cycling He is cycling if it's cold, he is cycling if it's hot. He will cycle when it's raining. Did I imply that he will be cycling only if it fits conveniently into our family's plans for the day? No, no. He will be cycling unless someone in our family has spontaneously combusted. In that case he will extinguish them, and then go cycling. We have approximately twenty cycling magazines in our living room at any time. When my husband is not outside cycling, he is attending a cycling event, or he has his bike on the bike trainer, or he is reading about cycling, or watching cycling or working on this cycling website. I once joked with him about him ever having an affair and he replied, ‘Trust me, if I had enough free time to be having an affair I'd just use it to ride my bike.’ Our garage cannot hold our cars because it is full of bikes. The mountain bike, the two road bikes, the triathlon bike, the fixed gear bike, the tandem bike for the two of us (which we still haven't used), the kids' bikes, the kids' trailer, the kids' trail-a-bike, and the bike work stand. We had to put up shelving to hold all of his biking equipment and biking clothes. My husband has more cycling jerseys than I have skirts. Though I may sound completely bitter, the truth is I am not. I am proud of my husband and how active he is. I am proud of him for keeping himself healthy. And in the end, I know that this is what makes him happy, and that without a ride on Sunday mornings he is a grump. And who needs piles of laundry, dirty floors and a grumpy husband?