Sunday, 10 February 2019
Greg writes: The rain duly fell all morning, writes Greg, and as we all looked out on a fairly drab scene we wondered – would there be anyone else (stupid enough to be) going out in this? At 12.50 at Brookside Greg was on his own and starting to assume that indeed no one else had been so foolish. He stood forlorn eating his sandwich – an object of pity to passing tourists.
Then – huzzah – Phil turned up to keep him company. The world had more than one fool after all!
Then quite quickly Mike K, sporting new super bright orange top appeared. Was this the start of a breakaway protest group – from Gilets Jaunes to Cagoules d'Orange? Apparently not.
Cagoules D'Orange Protestor?
Dennis then turned up – we now had the Fab 4!
We saddled up at 1pm just as Lali hove into view – this was now a 'Band'
'We few, we happy few, we band of brothers' declaimed Greg – though his best Shakespearean acting efforts were criticised by Lali for being somewhat sexist.
Had that word even been invented back then?
So we left and crossed Lammas Land in the drizzle – avoiding tourists who had their heads down under umbrellas and were blissfully unaware of their surroundings, the fact they were weaving across the cycle lane etc.
Soon we crossed onto the quieter roads towards Grantchester and as we came into that village the rain increased from the nonchalant drizzle (is there such a thing?) to a more strident downpour.
Greg declaimed further 'Is everybody happy? You bet your life we are'.
Not sure the Butlins Redcoats mantra is quite the same as Henry V but it captured something of the desperate jollity he was hoping to encourage. Despite Phil's best efforts to lure us off the track – the Cambridge Gin boutique perhaps, even tea in the Orchard – we were not for turning and so pressed on.
By the time we crossed Trumpington Meadows the rain had started to ease somewhat when lo, what sight appears? 'Twas Simon bearing down on us – delayed due to a puncture on the way to the start and so he had chased us out of Cambridge and caught us! Well met, fine sir!
What's more – the Ed also appeared – he too had missed the start but was now adding to the swelling crowd – we had now become The Magnificent 7.
As we crossed at the new(ish) traffic lights in Harston we set off due South. 'Consider the vista of glorious dwellings hereabouts' was the stentorian cry from Greg. Not sure whether his best Estate Agent chatter as we went down his road actually impressed many of the group – and neither did his acting ability - but the good news was that the rain had now stopped and the sun was starting to warm us all. The temperature was now creeping up from a miserly 4C earlier and was in the giddy realms of 6C – balmy summer indeed!
Now we pressed on through Newton and into Thriplow. The daffodils are starting to look quite advanced – the daffodil festival will be likely to be too late again this year for the best of the blooms.
Phil had that somewhat soft and saggy feeling as he cried out 'Puncture'. We duly stopped and Simon swung into impressive action. Front wheel off, tyre removed – and the assembled masses were duly offering sound advice on the task. None required – Simon had this in hand. Despite a fairly thorough effort he couldn't feel the offending sharp item and assumed it had not lodged in the tyre. The new tube was fitted and inflated and we set off. Sub 10 minutes is pretty good going.
Sub 10 minutes – onlookers enjoy the show!
We pressed on into the rising wind towards Fowlmere and as we crossed the 505 we discovered a new member of the group. Mike C had appeared.
We were now on Royston Lane heading towards Starling Hill (as Ed advised us it was called) and Dennis imperiously swept into the lead to claim climbing honours, as usual.
Starling Hill
After a quick breather at the top of the steepest hill in Cambridgeshire we set off down the other side and turned left on Quicksett Rd to go back up the hill before the long run down to Ickleton. Greg was just coming up to the motorway bridge when the dulcet tones of Mike K pierced the afternoon sky….
Yup, Phil had got another puncture and so we all duly retraced our steps halfway back to find Mike C was already well into the task. No one gives Mike advice on mechanical tasks so we all duly watched 'The Master' at work. His smooth, soft and sensitive fingers (not something Mike ever expected to be applied as a description for his hands) soon found the offending thorn. Small but deadly it was removed with some effort and so this repair seemed like it would last the distance.
We set off once again….and now we were a few minutes behind schedule and with the quantity of standing water from the previous rain also a factor which suggested the Hinxton Road might be submerged Greg made the decision to take the more direct route to Duxford. We arrived at the café there at 3.07 – to complaints from Andy and Sarah over our lax timekeeping! Well, we laughed in the face of such ribald joshing – we had dealt with 2 punctures and were still only a few minutes late – and we will brook no criticism from lightweights who have just popped out of their house and cycled less than 5 miles to join us for coffee!
We discovered Mike S sitting inside already and so we were now in double figures for attendees!
Pleasant Interlude
After a very pleasant half hour we started to don helmets gloves etc for the ride back. The temperature had dropped whilst we had been indoors and it was time to get going – though not before Lali had showed off the swanky loaf she had bought to feed Mark back to full fitness – get well soon, Mark.
Andy & Sarah headed off on their own whilst the rest of us headed through Duxford and over the 505. Greg called out to Mike K who was up front 'Left at the Guildhall' and there was much headscratching at this instruction. The Guildhall is a large building on the corner in Whittlesford which was the workhouse in the 1600s and is now a very impressive house. I cannot vouch for whether or not Shakespeare ever visited…..
We duly turned left as instructed which took us on a loop through the village – the point of which was to show the group the rather impressive snowdrop display in the woodland. We all duly stopped and noted that this free display was more impressive and authentic – and less crowded – than the Anglesey Abbey version!
Snowdrops and cyclists
The group then headed off for Shelford with Mike S departing at this point. A further parting of the ways occurred just outside Shelford and the village people found their way(s) home whilst the city types headed off to the DNA path and beyond.
The route was some 31 miles and, despite the early indications, sun blessed and good fun. A great trip out on a February afternoon to get some fresh air.
It was great to be doing the final homeward leg in daylight:
Winter's dark days
Start their grudging yield
To the welcome march
Of blessed, bone-warming spring.
Not quite Shakespeare, but I do my best!
Greg
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