Club Run to Catford Hill Climb
Sunday 13th October by Paget Cohen
Yes there was one and, fool that I am, as I know that part of Kent well I had offered to devise a route so felt that despite the heavy rain forecast I ought to at least ride out to Uckfield just in case anyone else was daft enough to want to go further. The rain held off until after breakfast; starting just as I left the house straight into a headwind. I'd expected/hoped to find only Ian sheltering outside Boots, but there was a small crowd of the committed. Winter bikes and clothing were the order of the day. Micky T on his Australian Merida and wearing gillet over a jacket as is his fashion plus neoprene gloves. Mark was back on his Carrera and suited and booted for the elements. Terry brought along his new winter steed and a gillet with rear pockets specially designed for those with short arms. Brett had his top half sorted, but no tights or overshoes until his birthday on Tuesday, nor was he able to sort mudguards in time. Ian chose to ride his 'guardless' Tomassini and started without a jacket. Pretty-in-pink Peter Baker paused to say hello before continuing his merry way to wherever - I suspect Ide Hill was too close for his liking.
Passing their store (while it lasts) Ian did invite 2 In Gear riders to join us, but they declined to their detriment. We got as far as Ringles Cross before Mark pulled over with a screw loose - that attaching his rear disco light to his carrier - but he and his cycle-therapist Terry soon caught up. Our Tel only had time to accompany us up on to the forest so the hardcore half-dozen became the fearless five forging into the fog. Back down in Hartfield the visibility improved, but the rain was relentless. Past The Pantry we pressed on Northwards then took the left into Butcherfields Lane to emerge on the A264 to cross Holtye Golf Club. Into Cowden we took the left turn for the gentle gradient up to Cowden Pound. We were overhauled by a lone rider approaching the Queens Arms crossroads, but our interloper turned left for Hever while we kept on the ridge road to Mark Beech. Conditions were now sufficiently bad for Ian to don his postman's jacket, but despite being given the option to turn back the other four followed my order to charge down into the next valley for Chiddingstone.
I'd been feeling fine on the incline, but as we went downhill so did my mood as the acceleration brought home just how saturated my shoes and socks were. On top of that the mini ice-age we were experiencing had caused me to devolve to such an extent that I no longer had an opposable right thumb and had to change gear left handed. I could still pull the brake levers, but by now my brakes were more spongy than anything Mr Kipling has ever put his name to. Bough Beech was welcomingly familiar to some of my companions, but any lifting of spirits Mark and Brett might have experienced evaporated on Ide Hill. It had crossed my mind that the event we were going to see may have been cancelled, but there were too many cyclists about for that to be likely and indeed the roads and hilltop were heaving. Rider 50 or 51 was just crossing the line as we joined the throng, but much as we would have loved to have been there to cheer on our club-mates the chattering of our teeth told us that getting us inside and food inside us should be the priority.
Chartwell Barns Four Elms was surprisingly quiet, with only 3 GS Avanti riders amongst the more sane general public enjoying the fare. Toasted tea cake would never suffice on such a day - Ian, Micky and Mark selecting the, highly appropriate leek/leak soup; Brett a toastie in the hope he'd soon feel the same and good old beans on toast for myself. All were delicious and would no doubt have been served sooner if the staff didn't have to keep stopping to mop the floor around us.
Heading back out the rain seemed to have eased, but the first slight downhill to How Green was chilling indeed. Saving the sights of Hever Castle for another day we returned, up the long drag, to Mark Beech then made a bee-line along the B-roads back over the border and into Hartfield. Back in the summer the crawl through Chuck Hatch had found me out, but today I'd remembered not to leave my legs at the tea stop plus I had non-climbers Mark & Brett to make me look good. Pulling up in a lay-by on the forest (not that we could see more than a few feet of it) my computer was showing a nice round 50 miles with nothing but downhill for Micky and Mark, a rolling route for Ian and an incessant ramp for Brett and myself as I didn't fancy tackling the lanes without any brakes. Having chaperoned Brett to the end of his drive in Cross-in-Hand I was still meeting mad cyclists on my final few miles to home some 6 sodden hours after I departed.
PS. Sorry we weren't there to give you just that added extra, but congratulations to Mr Lowden Jnr on his splendid 3rd place on the hill climb and the photo plus mention on the Cycling Weekly website.
PPS. If you or anyone else you know are inspired to regale your club-mates, and the wider world, with tales of your cycling related exploits or interests then why not email them to Rob Pelham leweswandererscc@gmail.com for inclusion on the LWCC Blog.
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