There was an encouraging turnout at Castle Bistro considering that it was the height of the holiday season. Steve Tan was unavailable, and Big Ray was bursting the buttons off his shorts on another over-fed cruise. I knew Clive was going to turn up because I met his charming wife and himself in WH Smiths in Chester on Wednesday; he was looking for an electric bike magazine!
Keith arrived with me in the old banger Berlingo. It was
good to have Mold Andy and Dave Pipe back on board for the moderate ride. Dave
Matthews had made the considerable effort to turn up but was riding home. Dave Pipe
had forgotten his wallet; as someone noted for leaving things by mistake, my
empathy stretched to lending him some dosh and waiving my normal payday loan
rate of 1,500%.
We set off on familiar lanes to Hindford passing the
long-closed, canalside and characterful Jack Mitton Inn which some of remember
visiting over ten years ago. The well-surfaced rural lane south from Welsh
Frankton is always a delightful downhill cruise. The extremely steep bridge
crossing the canal has to be attacked at speed, or you risk coming to a halt
just before the top and falling on your nut. It’s a fast, easy run to Bagley
Marsh and all very enjoyable, although the huge, unmarked grey shed we pass en route
gives me a shudder at the thought of the mass slaughter and butchery of animals
inside. I intended to clock a few more miles by reaching down to Stanwardine in
the Fields before heading north-east to Cockshutt. A “Road Closed” sign, and Andy
coping with penicillin and a frayed gear cable deterred me, so we turned left, passing
the moated Stanwardine Hall on our way to Cockshutt and across to Loppington.
Lunch was excellent at The Dickin Arms, as ever. There was a
great deal of reminiscing over past rides and personalities over lunch as some
of us could go back over sixteen years with the club. We should be more
assertive and order food before drinks when we arrive though, as we were there
for ever. Dave Pipe had swigged down a couple of pints before we were ready to
go. When I got to the till, Dave had spent his loan and required a further sub
to pay his bill. It crossed my mind that Dave would probably forget that he had
borrowed money by Friday, and I decided I wouldn’t be asking for it: I hadn’t acquired
a copy of the bill anyway. The true gentleman that he is, he rang me and transferred
the correct money into my account the next day. Oh! Me of little faith!
Our way back was by way of Kenwick Park and up a lane never
used by us before, crossing Tetchill Moor to Tetchill village. The grass centred
lane was eerily empty with just the odd farmhouse. Much as I love the
countryside the thought of living a life along this isolated lane spooked me. At
Tetchill I was able to confirm our location was correct with a local resident,
nevertheless, it is obviously very easy to miss the turn to Onston, because we
did. We decided to cut our losses and follow our outward route from Horley. Rain
suddenly battered down somewhere north west of Welsh Frankton. We huddled under
big trees, but the prospect of the downpour passing seemed remote for a while.
Keith and I had a laugh watching Andy assisting Dave with his ancient but
totally waterproof yellow cape. The cape may have been waterproof, but the back
was a bit tangled, so torrential rain was being funnelled down Dave’s bum! The rain eventually eased and we were quite
warm before long, even those who hadn’t bothered bringing a waterproof. Andy
had coped amazingly well without any low gears all day and Dave said that he
had enjoyed the ride, but unfortunately, I hadn’t time for a coffee at Castle
Bistro where other club members had also returned. Keith had kindly agreed to
drive my wife’s car home for me if we could get to a specialist garage I use
near Malpas before it closed. A rapid cross- country drive from Chirk meant we
were just able to make it, and after I paid a king’s ransom of a bill, get both
cars back to Runcorn without Keith ramming me from behind. At least we were
able to relax on a bench in the sun at Peacock Farm waiting for the garage
owner to return, watching horses being groomed and reflecting on another
successful CER outing. Thanks to the guys for their company and
support.
DH
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