Spring was in the air as we congregated at Caterham. The Day Centre had put up shamrock bunting to remind us it was St Patrick’s Day. To mark the occasion, I did ask for a pint of Guinness at the tea bar, but regrettably, Guinness was ‘off’.
On our ride were Pete M, Toni, Janice, Graham, John B, Mark, Paul, Jeff, Ed, Ray, Eddy (welcome for the first time for a long time), Will and Rob. Our destination was Dormansland, so it was the usual sort of switchback ride down Burntwood Lane, up Lungbuster Hill, then a flatter section along the Ridge before a boneshaking drop down Titsey Hill, where Toni’s chain jumped off, and into Limpsfield. The route then took us through Hurst Green, Merle Common, Dwelly Lane and past Haxted Mill before we pitched up at the Old House at Home, where the usual convivial welcome awaited us, together with open log fire.
Our way back took us through Lingfield, Newchapel, Cogmans Lane (potholed to the point of disintegration), up Scotts Hill, before we landed at Redhill Aerodrome for tea, where despite arriving before 3.30, anything hot was off the menu, so it was cold drinks all round. The way home through Redhill was enlivened by a minor altercation with a white van man who appeared not to understand the meaning of priority arrows.
Overall , a typical brisk Caterham ride which shifted a fair bit of Winter rust.
Rob
On our ride were Pete M, Toni, Janice, Graham, John B, Mark, Paul, Jeff, Ed, Ray, Eddy (welcome for the first time for a long time), Will and Rob. Our destination was Dormansland, so it was the usual sort of switchback ride down Burntwood Lane, up Lungbuster Hill, then a flatter section along the Ridge before a boneshaking drop down Titsey Hill, where Toni’s chain jumped off, and into Limpsfield. The route then took us through Hurst Green, Merle Common, Dwelly Lane and past Haxted Mill before we pitched up at the Old House at Home, where the usual convivial welcome awaited us, together with open log fire.
Our way back took us through Lingfield, Newchapel, Cogmans Lane (potholed to the point of disintegration), up Scotts Hill, before we landed at Redhill Aerodrome for tea, where despite arriving before 3.30, anything hot was off the menu, so it was cold drinks all round. The way home through Redhill was enlivened by a minor altercation with a white van man who appeared not to understand the meaning of priority arrows.
Overall , a typical brisk Caterham ride which shifted a fair bit of Winter rust.
Rob
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