Sunday 17th February by Paget Cohen
At last some dry and sunny weather, although mist still lingered in Heathfield and Framfield it would be the last I'd see of it all day, but not the last of the hazards. Arriving in Uckfield early I found David Hodgson window shopping and we were soon joined by (recent Reg Porter victor) Mark L, Stuart K, nice Martin, Carl M, Peter Barling and Alan Lloyd. With Ian McG unavailable Martin was deputising and came prepared with written directions on a post-it stuck to his wrist and an Ordnance Survey in his back pocket just in case. His chosen route would take us along familiar lanes through Palehouse Common, Easons Green, Waldron and Lions Green to Horam where we turned left towards Marle Green, then left again in the direction of Vines Cross.
Here I was hoping we would turn right as a) I was struggling from 5 weeks off the bike and b) I knew that ahead lay a dangerous downhill S-bend I know as "The Corkscrew"; indeed I recall warning David as we began the descent. As it was he and the advance party made it round, but Alan and I both hit the ice, then hit the ice, and found ourselves sliding on our hips towards the grass verge. Having given Skeleton Bob (or should that be Skeleton Bike) a try and rejected it I'm pleased to report that having each checked our equipment was still in working order we were able to revert to an upright stance on top of our bikes as we somewhat gingerly cut through to Warbleton and turned South for Cowbeech.
Once over the A271 by the trugg shop and across the levels we picked up a steady trickle of Wanderers attempting their own long-distance speed judging contest - that of arriving at the tea stop after opening, but before everyone else. Despite most lanes being dry up till now the one on to Horse-Eye Level was still under water and one of our number had the misfortune to shatter their mudguard on an unruly twig. The Level itself, however was glorious - bathed in sunshine, enhanced by the reflection off the drainage ditches and flooded fields. The same could not be said for Down Ash Lane which was still awash with huge muddy puddles and riven with bomb craters. Those on the front could have saved their breath by assuming 'Holes' and alerting us to any 'Good Road'.
My first visit to Old Loom Mill, but I hope not my last as choice, service, prices and cakes were all excellent; I quite understand why so many Wanderers made the effort to join us. The run for home was enlivened only by Martin coming a cropper on some mud on the pavement approaching the Hailsham by-pass crossing, but he was fortunate enough to land on the grass. My lack of fitness told as the road turned uphill and I didn't actually get to say "cheerio" to anyone as the elastic had snapped long before I went my own merry way, although unbeknownst to him I had Carl as a distant carrot for a few miles. Ho, hum, a good 48 miles and, for the first time in months, no punctures that I was aware of!
It was only upon closer inspection when cleaning the Marin and myself that the full extent of the crash damage became apparent; a bent quick release lever (bike) and a teabag-sized slice of skin that came way with my shorts. Today my left hip is doing a passable impression of a volcano - a large swelling with an angry looking red summit. I hope for his sake that Alan got off more lightly.
** EDIT - The following picture is sent from Mr L, depicting the results of his slide on Sundays club run. Personally I dunno what's worse, the bruising or Mr L's budgie smugglers ;o)
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