In all fairness I'm unsure of how the quality of this ride report is going to pan out, but let's give it a go shall we.
Romford to Thringstone
The weather forecast doesn't look good, no, not at all. It appears we are destined for a cold snap.
The bike is all OK and recovered from my recent sortie out to Czech, but as I cleaned it up I discovered one of the fork seals had gone. I needed to go and see Steve at
Motoscot and exchange my gloves (he'd actually lent me his pair for my last ramble as my size were to be ordered
) and mine had since arrived, so a quick call and he'd said he'd get it sorted for me when I head in to make the glove switch. You know, we like that..
I'd gotten very little done at home. On Wednesday evening I was in the pub with a friend who is getting a divorce and on the Thursday I nip down to train with my old football team. I end up not putting anything together or packing when I get home late after a medicinal pint of Speckled Hen to get over the shock of all that needless running around. I don't pack anything. Silly mistake, that as I want to be out early and I always try and get everything done so I can just get out and go.
I sleep and don't feel very good in the morning. Packing is the most disorganised event ever and takes half the time again of that I'd normally expect. Bother.
My tardiness at home means my old trumpet is left out in the cold for a night or two in the garden and shows the frost out there..
Eventually I do get set and make to head off. Alarm set, house locked up, out to bike. Ah. Where's my bloody helmet? Back to house, unlock outside door, unlock inside door , alarm off, obtain said crash hat, alarm on, lock doors. Key in bike, go to press GPS power button. Ah. I've left my Zumo on the shelf in the garage. Open driveway gate, open garage door, set alarm off, run back to house, unlock house, reset alarm, run to garage, grab Zumo, lock garage, lock gate, in house, set alarm, lock house. Are you getting the picture?
Finally, after what seems to be an age, we're making final approach down the driveway to my road. It's cold of course. There's a sheen on the road; Icy. I'm fortunate (or unfortunate in some respects) to live in the town centre, so it's a very short distance to the main roads and bus routes where the roads are well trodden. The first couple of roads in the zig zag to the main drag are OK, but then I link up with an old Victorian road which seems to get no sun at all in a way that Aleister Crowley would be proud of, and having cobbles poking through the surface and a terrible camber from the middle to the two gutters. The pavement is similarly hazardous, and I've had a couple of trips to the ground trying to get home before in the snow and ice (not pissed either I should add) one time seeing off a rather nice suit. I gingerly tootle down the road and whispering a quiet prayer of thanks to the biking gods I'm off.
Normally, I'd take a very enjoyable run through Havering-atte-Bower, Stapleford, Abridge, Theydon Bois and then south of Epping to join up with the M25 and cut some of the boredom. However, this time last year there were two shunts I'd seen whilst in the car both down to ice so decide to just head down the A12 and around the magic roundabout that is London's Orbital car park.
The traffic is moving on the motorway and it's all uneventful through to Caddington. I feel loads better for the ride in the fresh air and I'm given coffee and have a good chat while Steve quickly sorts the dodgy seal.
I've arranged to meet Brian, aka
ballistic of this parish for this little trip. Whist I'm there he sends a message: the weather forecast is dreadful. Come up in the car and we'll make off on four wheels instead. I reply that I'm already on the way, so he tells me not to worry and in the words of Leslie Crowther to 'Come on down'. I think he described that the trip will be 'character building'. eek.
Breakfast is a huge bacon baguette courtesy of the Caddington bakery 'Nice Baps'. Things are picking up. Then a quick fill-up at the Tesco. I do like pay at pump. It's off to Leicestershire courtesy of a short and boring float up the M1. Only thing to report is the opposite carriageway is closed just short of where I dive off the motorway, with one of those large rubbish skips, (and I mean the large ones) looking to have fallen off a truck and blocked all three lanes
I'm there fairly early, so it's just after 3pm when we decide that it is a good time to indulge in Loughborough's finest ales. We head to catch the 3.22 bus, which arrives at ten past four, so we spent fifty minutes hopping up and down in the cold and watching the construction of a co-op. Hardly vintage time spent.
Two buses eventually arrive and we have spend over an hour on a normally twenty minute ride in to town, at a guess it would seem that the accident I mentioned has caused a horrible overspill from the motorway. We end up walking the last half a mile, we were driven batty by a crying baby, with the mother not paying a blind bit of notice to little Frogmella, probably hypnotised by Rothmans withdrawl over the period of the hour on the bus.
First port of call is the Glorious Briton. Great little pub. Timothy Taylor Ram tam, open fire, they don't do food but you can bring it in from any of the number of places down the road. Ticks the boxes, this.
Taking a trip to the dark side with Ram Tam.
Next pub. I forgot the name. I liked it. Good beers. Brian navigates with the beer compass splendidly.
Next pub. Some monkey business at the Blue Monkey pub..
Finally we complete our tour of Loughborough by anchoring at the Glorious Briton and getting fine fish and chips from across the road. A good day
Today the following beers were fed into the Rambletron:
Ram Tam (Timothy Taylor)
Gorilla (Blue Monkey)
Black Gold (Castle Rock)
XXXB (Batemans)
Liefmans Kriek
The organic computer has picked the winner to be 'Ram Tam'. Oooh I do like that, and we don't get it 'dahn sarf'.