Club Run to Chez Gibbons
Sunday 8th September by Paget Cohen
I wasn't particularly looking forward to this as I wasn't feeling great, Gibbo's rides are always hard and the breakfast news was predicting heavy showers before the morning was out. I considered taking the mudguard-clad Marin, but the Giant was set up and ready; I did, however, furnish myself with long-fingered mitts, rain jacket, arm-warmers and a 2nd pair of socks as it was only 13 degrees when I set out. Slightly late as it happened as the front tyre resisted assuming full pressure, but the fresh tarmac on the main road through Cross-in-Hand assisted a swift passage to Uckfield. Ready for action were Nice Martyn, Terry, Mark, Chris M, Dave Hodgson & Brett, but not Paul, so, suitably warmed up, I had time to pocket my jacket before he and John Miller arrived for the off. No summer tourist trail as it wasn't deemed sufficiently popular with the participants nor organiser.
The ride out was incredibly similar to last week, even to the extent that we lost one of our number before Waldron - Chairman Slow to a knee problem that didn't prevent him joining us for cakes later. First significant deviation from the ride to Pevensey was when we went straight on through Vines Cross, but we did take the next right-hander up Furnace Lane to Warbleton then the down-up-down-up to Rushlake Green. Armskins were long since rolled down as we headed north-east from the Green itself to Dallington and Woods Corner avoiding Carricks Hill. To my surprise Gibbo ordered a left past the Brightling observatory and Needle though, far from struggling, I was relatively thriving on the succession of short steep ramps. I was, however, hopelessly left behind on the long downhill past the gypsum mine which caused the guys to have to wait for me to be sure I knew to take the road past Batemans. Knowing Gibbo as I do it was no surprise we went right then immediately left into the switchback of Spring Lane; from here a pleasant ride became somewhat more eventful.
First Dave Hodgson pulled up with a rear wheel puncture. We stopped under the canopy of trees, but the first spots of rain could be felt before we got going again. Across Witherenden Hill the increasing precipitation made the descent into the valley dicey and Martyn and Dave stopped to don rain jackets. I pulled over to do the same, but saw blue skies ahead so thought better of it and, indeed, by the time we reached the junction with Scotsford Road it was bright and sunny once more and Martyn had stripped off again. To be fair Gibbo gave us the option of heading straight for cake, but democracy saw us take in an extra loop round the back streets of Mayfield and down Fir Toll Road. We'd just regrouped when our leader set off for Five Ashes only to take a left down a notoriously pot-holed cut-through to the A267. We all survived that and briefly mixing it with the traffic, but Meres Lane was another matter.
The warm sun was visibly lifting the moisture out of the road surface where it could, but it was still very shiny and no sooner had I warned Mark of the steep descent ahead than he and John followed Paul into a tight right-hander. Gibbo just about stayed on the black stuff, but his closest followers couldn't make it and planted themselves in the hedgerow. Fortunately no harm was done, except to hedge, and they were able to laugh it off, but we had only just started up the next climb when I felt the tarmac become strangely rippled, ie I now had a rear puncture a la Dave courtesy of a large flint. He, Brett and Martyn helped me back on the road for one final sprint along the main road to waiting cake.
Or so it should have been , but my adventures weren't over as a car pulled out in front of Martyn in Heathfield High Street. He slammed on the anchors and I, following, did likewise but still hit his rear mudguard flinging me over the handlebars. Thankfully bike + I avoided being run over and escaped with no more than a cut right knee, bruised left bicep and grazed right hip to match the left one I acquired in January. I did consider limping home, but was rewarded for continuing by a fine array of cakes thanks to Iveta and the sympathetic company of a horde of Wombles. Spots of rain were taken as a cue to brave the greasy decking and the mean streets of Broad Oak and make the short journey home which I survived without further incident.
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