Forest Row Bike Club

Ride Report

The Priory and Redhill Aerodrome - 2nd March 2008

John holds forth, Graham Steve and Ron perforce listenThe ride report is a little delayed this week due to a shortage of authors. Don's so fed up with being fingered for the job that he skipped the ride, don't think that one's going to work again Don, coz it won't. Who next? Ah, John, I knew he'd complain that he was a working man now and doesn't have time, but with a little blackmail (I've still got the evidence John) I'd get my report. Then Ron suddenly volunteered, 'I'd better do the report this week ' he said. Great, problem solved, except that when I complained on Wednesday that it hadn't arrived he claimed that he'd only been joking. Kate was next in line, she and Andrew carefully crafted(!!) a gripping narrative but the editor was scathing about the prose and was told to he could do it himself. So now I'll have to apologise for the quality as well as the timeliness with no-one to blame but myself.

John continues, Steve and Kate (eyes closed) start to nod offRather a thin turn out this week, just five outside Future Cycles John, Steve (Steve! why didn't I think of getting him to write the report, he's got enough room in those panniers for a laptop, so he could do the report while waiting for Kate to catch up!), Kate, Andrew and Graham, we were just thinking that without our lord and master we could perhaps have a nice cozy chat in Java and Jazz, when Ron arrived. We were directed up Wall Hill and no slacking, thoughts of ease blew away in the wind, another weeks ride had begun.

From Ashurst Wood we continued along the Homestall Road, John rushed on, he could visit the pigs again, but alas they were nowhere to be seen, he'd have to find someone else to listen to him today. On we went down familiar lanes in the sunshine, past Surrey Hall (Tony's birthplace) and on through Dormansland, passing by Lingfield station towards Tandridge.The gang admire the view from Rabies Heath Road Car park Lovely flat quiet lanes, not a slope in sight, Ron must be going soft. But no, here is Tilburstow Hill, the speed drops and the groans increase, but eventually we all get to the top and turn down Rabies Heath road. Kate and I were a little way behind the others but we knew they would stop at the car park to exclaim about the view, a good view indeed, but a much better excuse for a rest! By the time we arrived, John had already latched on to some poor unsuspecting walkers in the car park and while the rest of us bemoaned the lack of a flask of coffee he treated them to his eloquence. Fortunately Ron said we must go before their eyes glazed completely. (Sorry John but if you don't want the insults you have to write the reports).

It's now downhill into Bletchingly and John and Andrew inevitably go for it, they are so busy racing each other that they don't notice me. I easily fly past them, they won't catch me. Andrew didn't, but John overtook just as I was congratulating myself on thrashing him, hubris!

The priory isn't far now and brunch beckons, but Ron isn't for stopping, too expensive he says. Andrew looks aghast but calms down when told that Redhill Aerodrome isn't far away.

Now comes the most important race of the day, the dash to be first into the café. I never seem to get the strategy right for this, usually after giving my all I find Ron already in the queue before me, so this time, think tactics. Mustn't go too soon, hang back and wait for John to go, wait... wait... Damn, he's gone and despite all my efforts John wins again. Still I beat Ron, but while I'm looking round for Kate, Ron slips past me and gets served first, foiled again.

Replete, we meander back along cycle route 21, through Horley, around Gatwick airport and back onto the Worth Way. Ron says we could stop in East Grinstead for tea today and looks (rather pointedly I thought) at me, so I had little option but to invite the gang back to chez Chadwick for same.

So ended another ride, good weather, good company and the usual friendly banter.


If you took part in a ride, why not write a report? The more florid the language, the more inflated the hyperbole, the more tumescent the innuendo, the greater your chance of winning the FRBC Prize for Original Plagiarism.

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