As I pulled up the slip road to join the M56, I was intent on avoiding being on the inside of any spray spouting juggernaut. The forecast ferocious crosswind was full-on, and the rain torrential on the high level bridge. The windage forces on a curtain-sided artic trailer in these conditions could result in it overturning. What was I doing driving in this “do not go out unless you really have to” weather? I was driving to Tattenhall to go cycling with friends! This choice felt like a gross misjudgement as powerful wind gusts hit the Berlingo, but I had committed by email to turning up, so stage one was surviving the journey to Alison’s. I felt a little more relaxed weaving slowly through Christleton village, as it was more sheltered and bone dry.
I arrived early at Alison’s, leaving my bike in the back of the car, as it was probable that if anyone had turned up at all they would not be riding. Riding on your own is an added risk, if say, a tree lands on your head on a little back lane, and you can’t reach your phone. I don’t think Lynne would be able to find me in rural backwater twenty miles from home. At least, she would probably want to complete her Christmas shop at M&S Food first. Clive, Ken and Ivan were already ensconced at an inside table. Clive had driven Ivan over and had hoped to collect Steve Haywood to meet the club riders. Ivan was recovering well with his new knee, but Steve’s back operation was recent, so he had to decline. George then turned up and joined us, shortly followed by Dave Matthews in civvies.
After a very pleasant and sociable forty minutes came the moment of truth: who was able and willing to have a ride? George and I decided to give it a go. We climbed up to Bosworth Castle, and then down and up to Broxton Old Hall. At Duckington we headed south west to Tilston and Shocklach. We agreed, that with the high winds and it being nearly the shortest day of the year, we would embroider a few miles around Threapwood and Oldcastle Heath, rather than stretch to Overton. George had coped well without the use of his inside chainwheel, but it was a reminder that it was possible for things to go wrong, and we would have to battle some headwinds later. We called in at my favourite garage, Birchdown Autos in Peacock Farmyard to wish Steve a happy Christmas, before heading for the Old Fire Station in Malpas. The café, was full, but on the suggestion of a nice young woman working there, we finished up at The Little Deli in Church Street. It had been ages since I had been, but I remember it as a favourite tea stop for Dave and Liz. The staff were friendly, and we were well pleased with lunch. On leaving I checked George’s front changer, but apart from a bit of adjustment of his stop screws, it didn’t seem worth getting into further by the roadside, as we had no hard climbs ahead.
On our way back we intended to miss the Chowley route into Tattenhall, as in the morning the road passing “The Righi” had been closed. We returned via Tilston, Barton, Coddington, passing Aldersley Green Golf Club (where my dentist tells me, that we could probably get lunch). This route into Handley was a first for both of us. It is an attractive little village, mentioned in the Domesday Book with some thatched houses and a very old church. We braved a short stretch of A41 to Milton Green before crossing into Frog Lane, passing Russia Hall and over yet another stretch of the disused railway line that we often cross in this area. The old route runs from the main line west of Hargrave down into Whitchurch. We reached Alison’s just as the staff were locking up. They cheerfully declined my offer to pay for coffees that I had forgotten to pay for in the morning. I will pay the amount owed as a tip next time! George was excellent company as ever. Storm Pia had punched its weight and had provided the occasional “whooah!” moment, but the ride had never felt seriously dangerous. For the best part we had been well sheltered by the hedged narrow lanes, and it had been mild and dry. Thirty something enjoyable miles.
DH
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