Conspiracy or C Cup?
Two months off the bike seems to have begat an embryonic inclination to conspiracy theorism. Is C&M trying to tell me something? After a warm welcome within sight of the red hot pokers of the Garden Centre and the still redolent embers of Clandon House, I enjoyed the somewhat damp company of the C&M as far as Guildford High Street. Here not quite time enough to remove sunglasses and don waterproofs before the peloton was off for North Street. Baulked by red lights and traffic, I did briefly glimpse a luminescent Vic at the bottom of N.St. but that was my last contact with C&M for the day. An anti-clockwise circuit in the face of horrendous Forces Day traffic got me to JDW. After an obstacle course of one way traffic and endless barriers, I eventually found my way to the friendly A31 Farnham Rd, where I could cycle once again, even if the only way was up and parallel to the Mount. Down then past the Watts Gallery and up again to Puttenham Heath Road and the Good Intent in Puttenham. I thought I might be the last to arrive, but there were no bicycles.
After a damp wait I fished out the mobile to 'phone Ed and found a voicemail from him to say that the party was going to Hurtmore. This puzzled me as I was sure that Puttenham was the destination. Nonetheless I left a message for Ed (I had no idea that some form of code is necessary), upped sticks and headed down to Hurtmore. It seems ill-endowed with taverns. I searched high and low but found no sign of cycling life. After another vain 'phone call, I responded to the call of home via Farncombe and Loseley Park.
On the +ve side, I did enjoy some unexpected hills and was not tempted by bacon rolls, beer or carrot cake, so the calorie and cholesterol count was nil, though without the company of the phantom riders of the C&M. My roll of Kodak film remained unexposed.
Jeff (Lone Rider)
After a damp wait I fished out the mobile to 'phone Ed and found a voicemail from him to say that the party was going to Hurtmore. This puzzled me as I was sure that Puttenham was the destination. Nonetheless I left a message for Ed (I had no idea that some form of code is necessary), upped sticks and headed down to Hurtmore. It seems ill-endowed with taverns. I searched high and low but found no sign of cycling life. After another vain 'phone call, I responded to the call of home via Farncombe and Loseley Park.
On the +ve side, I did enjoy some unexpected hills and was not tempted by bacon rolls, beer or carrot cake, so the calorie and cholesterol count was nil, though without the company of the phantom riders of the C&M. My roll of Kodak film remained unexposed.
Jeff (Lone Rider)
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