CTC Cambridge

Thursday 12 February 2026 

The Gathering Storm had long been predicted, writes Greg. Indeed, they were becoming somewhat tedious in their frequency. With some places in the UK having had a Biblical 40 days of rain – every day since the start of the year – we hardy village folk decided to take our chances and brave the threatened deluge.

A route with various bail out (pun intended) options had been prepared and we foregathered at Haslingfield. Andrew, Carl, Sharon, Richard, Nick (2) and a refugee from Saturdays – Malcolm - were ready for the off. However, Sharon had forgotten to bring her helmet but Nick to the rescue! He texted Julie and Mrs Nick managed to find her own helmet which was leant to Sharon as we cycled past his house on the way through Harston. It was a beacon of pink brightness amongst the gloom though Sharon was somewhat sartorially challenged throughout the day since the emergency helmet clashed horrendously with her yellow top. Harston hasn't seen such a gaudy display since the late Queen's Silver Jubilee!

We were due to be met by Andy and Sarah at the Queen's Head on the A10. We arrived but there was no sign of the Carlyle Crew. We stopped and as I got my phone out Andy hove into view, pedalling for all he was worth. He somewhat breathlessly drew up and announced that they were a few minutes late because his companion (at saying this he glanced back over his shoulder) was a bit slow! We were somewhat stunned by this statement and Andy said he was only joking. I said that's all right and I wouldn't mention it in the blog. Yup, I too was only joking...

The now enhanced, expanded and enlarged group headed off up the A10 cycle path. At Foxton a gruff voice shouted down from the signal box at us as we crossed the railway 'Oi, get a move on – no time for a Mother's meeting.' Tempted as I was to berate the signalman on his somewhat antediluvian attitude, he had a point as the 9.47 fast train was approaching – fast – and we hot footed it across the line as the barriers came down.

There was some amazed looks as we cycled through both Foxton and Fowlmere. It was unclear whether this was because residents were blinded by the colour clash of Sharon's impromptu helmet/jacket choice or mere wonderment at the quite splendid yellow on yellow of Malcolm's rig – where tyres matched top. Not something we are used to in the village rides – style normally being second best to substance out here in the sticks. His efforts were appreciated though.

There was the regulation 'Wimbledon Spectator Dance' on the A505 – necks screwing left, right and back again. Just as a gap in the speeding traffic threatened to materialise it somehow dissolved once the vehicles got where we stood. After a few minutes of this we managed to cross and went on through Chishill Grange and up the hill. This was the first planned decision point – a left turn and down Grange Road would have taken us to Cafe 19 in Duxford – or the newly opened and much praised Café Four in the old Wheatsheaf pub. However, the weather was so far co-operating and although the skies were grey it was still dry.

Sarah pulled up to a stop whilst the lead members of the group headed up the hill. Andy out front was seen to turn around and go back down. Was this extra hill-climbing exercise he was seeking? No, it became apparent that word of his earlier indiscretion had filtered through and Sarah had found a flint to give her a puncture so Andy was being duly punished by having to go back and effect a repair. The rest of us continued on.

That is until we got to the top of the hill and the Hertford Rd turn. We were greeted by Ed, Tony, Mike and Susan who had set off separately and now waited our arrival. Tony said he thought he felt rain in the air and so Richard now joined the rest of the waiting group as they decided to cut their losses and go directly to the 'Milking Shed', as Richard called it. He was soon corrected as they all duly set off to The Mixing Shed – all bar Ed as he decided to come on to Nuthamstead.

On arriving at The Woodman we discovered undercover parking for our bikes in the marquee and with rain 'In the air' this seemed a wise precaution. It was unclear whether the heavens would open whilst we sat in the warm and dry but it looked ominous and the forecast had long predicted rain arriving at around 11am. The one person serving did a great job and getting everyone sorted quickly and we were soon joined by Andy and Sarah who had cycled swiftly and together (!) after the flat had been fixed. Now we were a group of some nine or ten and the waitress wanted to take our picture for the venue's 'Socials'. I thought this a spiffing idea and duly took a picture of us all. I sincerely hope her photography skills are better than mine proved to be – a low hurdle!

Our sojourn was somewhat rudely interrupted when one of the staff came into the pub and asked 'Whose bikes are those in the marquee? You might want to move them as I am about to lift the manhole cover and jetwash the sewer and they will get covered in sh*t!' The clatter of cleats on tiles showed that never have members of CTC moved as fast.

Andy and Sarah now headed off to The Mixing Shed – not to catch the others but for a family lunch. For the rest of us, on emerging from the pub there was a noticeable chill in the air. I gamely announced not to worry as the breeze would be with us after lunch. Andrew pointed out the error of my ways and noted that the headwind in the morning was coming round to be a nor' easterly – in other words agin' us all day. 'At least it's still dry' I exclaimed, attempting to raise people's spirits.

The buzzing that ensued was not a chorus of agreement rather it was the sound of multiple Garmins having a collective panic. They all believed that we were now 'Off course'. Ride With GPS route planner always seems to want to put you onto footpaths and this was another example of a parallel path it wanted us to use. No chance – the field was an ocean of mud so we stayed on the road. Eventually the Garmin twittering ceased – only to start up again as we crossed our intended return route in Barley. The technology really doesn't like it when you cross your own tracks.

Yet cross them we did as we swept majestically down past Newsells Stud on a road that Nick (2) had never previously ridden. It is always somewhat of an achievement when a route takes people onto roads less know or even brand new. The warm glow of brilliant planning and surprising modesty was enjoyed by the author.

All too briefly though, for we were once again slogging uphill on the approach to Royston. 'Blimey this is a hilly route', I heard. Well, when an Audaxer of Carl's note is finding the route a little bumpy then it is quite the thing. The hard work did at least mean we were all warm.

We duly arrived at Royston Heath café – for once we were here in the dry. The last few times we have arrived sodden so it was quite the welcome change this time to not be dripping on the carpet. The venue was packed but we found a table which gave us a good view of the TV whereon we could see some of the Winter Olympics. An impressive display of some utterly bonkers sports. The Skeleton anyone? Head first on a tea tray... what could go wrong? Needless to say this was a sport invented by a bored Brit in the 30's – the amazing thing being that he then found other people to compete against.

Yet their discomfort, when not crashing, is swift over. Unlike ours for now we left the warm embrace of the café to head off uphill to Therfield. This is a long old drag and straight after lunch it is less than enjoyable. Indeed the agony lasts some four times longer than a Skeleton run – perhaps we cyclists are the fools?

Once up at the top we were greeted by a herd of deer crossing the road up ahead – some two dozen of them including an albino juvenile. They scampered across the road and soon disappeared again into the woods.

We neither scampered nor disappeared as we had some gentle 'Bumps' to master as we went on the lanes to Reed. Crossing the A10 we were now able to look across the 'Cambridge Bowl' right over as far as Balsham and Barrington. Well, not quite all that way as it was clearly raining in that direction – which unfortunately was, as previously pointed out, whence the weather was coming. We put our heads down and ploughed on – hoping that the rain would hold off for a while yet.

We went through Barley once more and took the old coaching road between Cambridge and London back towards the A505 crossing at Flint Cross. Progress here is marked by the milestones and as we plugged away into the wind these were duly passed one after another.

After crossing the A505 again we were soon in Fowlmere where the groups split up. Despite a couple of spots of rain the weather had held and a good day out was enjoyed. 71 km 44 miles and 637m of climbing: a good leg stretch for this time of year. We look forward to brighter days and longer rides in due course but for now this day was a very pleasant interlude in the relentless rain we have been having. Sun shines on the righteous? Perhaps more of a case of The Devil Looks After His Own! Greg Tucker