London Skyride
On a cool and bright Sunday morning, lightning struck for the second time in one week. The Wayfarers on Wednesday and the C&M on Sunday, both set off for the Great Wen. From their North Cheam launch pad, the Sunday Skyriders opting to follow this North West Passage were: Ann, Andrew, Andy, Eddy, Jeff, Mike and expedition leader Steve.
Objective one was Holland Park. The route taken was not the usual, thundering highway but unfamiliar byways following a leafy, wooded Wandle, as though deep in the countryside. We seemed to be threading our way between the cemeteries of S.W. London: Sutton, Morden, Lambeth, Wimbledon, Wandsworth. Our only brief stop was at Merton Abbey Mills, before the Wandle dumped us in the Thames by Wandsworth Bridge. A network of side streets brought us past the monumental family vaults in Brompton cemetery to Holland Park and a restlessly pacing Graham, awaiting our arrival.
Objective one was Holland Park. The route taken was not the usual, thundering highway but unfamiliar byways following a leafy, wooded Wandle, as though deep in the countryside. We seemed to be threading our way between the cemeteries of S.W. London: Sutton, Morden, Lambeth, Wimbledon, Wandsworth. Our only brief stop was at Merton Abbey Mills, before the Wandle dumped us in the Thames by Wandsworth Bridge. A network of side streets brought us past the monumental family vaults in Brompton cemetery to Holland Park and a restlessly pacing Graham, awaiting our arrival.Tea taken, it was off again with Skyride signs to guide us through Kensington, the Park to HPC, where the volume of cyclists had swelled to wondrous proportions, the combustion engines now held at bay. It seemed as though some cosmic force had sucked in every cyclist within its gravitational pull. I have never seen so many cyclists of every possible shape and size (fortunately all flowing in the same direction), and not one sign of friction. There may have been some road rage, but all I saw was smiles.
Along the Mall in St James's Park we stopped to elbow our way to the displays and came away with gifts of puncture kits and maps. Rejoining the flow, the only problem was how to keep in touch and recognise each other, until we were carried irresistibly to Tower Hill, where we took our lunch. This was not Chez Gérard but next door at Wetherspoons, or in the Green. After that, with Mike somewhat distracted by the mini-skirted pom-pom girls, we retraced our route (still going with the flow), stopping only to pick up a goody bag. At Buckingham Palace we peeled off and headed south for a tea-time stop on Clapham Common, before plotting our own ways home through the suburbs of London.A very different ride today, no altitude or calorific stats, but registering very high on the scale of cycling pleasure shared.
Jeff
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