Dorking
Musical chairs at Dorking, where the problem was not webbed toes but trench foot. After the hailstorm in the High St, with emergency cover provided by the Halifax, direction of travel for me was decided not by the food and beer at Brockham but by the siren call of warm, dry socks.(Jeff)
A day only fit for diehards and Wayfarers’
leaders today, as the April showers(?), encouraged by the hosepipe ban,
continued today with renewed zeal.
Arriving at Dorking, a solitary bike was
leaning against the wall (house point to Terry). Eventually, a quorum was
formed, consisting of Mark, Ian, John B, Jeff, Vic and Terry. A large
contingent from North Cheam was not expected,
based on last week’s party consisting of Les alone. In the event, today’s North Cheam number was one down on last week’s.
A democratic decision was soon taken (we’re
not going out, are we?) that discretion would most certainly be the better part
of valour on this particular day, so a local lunch stop would be favourite. Thus it was that we reluctantly emerged onto
Dorking High Street to be greeted by a ferocious hailstorm. Gingerly making our
way along the new tributary of the River Mole (previously known as the A25), we
disembarked into the Royal Oak
at Brockham. Thoughts of tea were subsequently abandoned as we headed home into
the driving rain, having covered, I would think, a record low mileage for a
Wednesday ride.
Rob
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