Harlequinade by Ken Knight

The

Photos by Marion Nation or the builder working across the square

CHRISTMAS 2010

An annual magazine for members of the

HARLEQUI S CYCLI G CLUB

Club Chairman: Colin Seago Club Treasurer: Larry Horton Club Secretary: Terry Grey Racing Secretary: Ken Knight Club Social Secretaries: Marion Knight Vice Presidents Den Goddard Stan Lawrence Harlequinade Editor: Derek Banting Production: Ken Knight Contact us at harlequinscc@tiscali.co.uk

Cover Perhaps the last Audax

Greetings from the Editor Hello fellow Harlequins. It only seems a year ago when I was last putting this together. Time does certainly fly by when you are enjoying yourself and this year is no exception. There are the usual up and downs (as the art mistress said to the gardener) but I hope everyone has come thro’ without too many problems. Our usual round of events and gatherings seem to have gone off without too many hitches, due mainly to - you’ve guessed it - people. People who have made it their aim to give enjoyment to others in so many ways and of course people who have turned out to take part. Well done everyone, the Harlequin spirit prevails. Once again thank you contributors to this lofty tome but, once again give them a hand folks and put together a few words yourself, you don’t know what you can do so give it a try. “I don’t know what to write”, just jot down a few notes or ideas and the team at magazine headquarters will knock it into shape. Give it a go!! A new year beckons, another round of “happenings” are about to take place and we are all looking forward to a good time - aren’t we? Sorry, did not hear you. OH YES WE ARE! My best wishes to you all, have fun, be good and make peace---you know it makes sense. Keep twiddling. Derek

Wheels of Change You know what your answer has to be when our Big Ed places his hand on your shoulder and asks “You will be writing your usual magazine report won’t you?” All over the Harlequin diaspora people are right now scribbling away to live up to their promise. So here’s mine---2010.…what to say? On a personal cycling note, a bit of a disappointment, not enough miles largely due to the weather. It was either cold and windy, wet and windy or hot and windy, sometimes all together. On the nice days it was a squeeze to fit in riding with all the other tasks requiring fine weather. On the Club front 2010 has turned to be a year on the cusp of change. The January meet, Annual Dinner and AGM all went in the usual way at Foxlease, but with reduced numbers this year. The chief items of change were Ken’s expressed desire to make this the last year of him running the race side of the Old Buffoons, hopefully with the Bath Road or the Greenford taking over. Additionally a motion to give up the May meet at Foxlease was resolved by keeping the booking for May 2010(it was already confirmed) and trying an alternative venue, initially at Coppleridge near Shaftsbury. Ken’s hack was once again a good event, with four HCC riders just finishing in the time in spite of Marion’s picnic, but it was nice to meet and join up with the rest of the Club at lunch. The whole weekend at Standlake is an enjoyable event, long may it last. The May meet was blessed with fine weather and, although with reduced numbers, New Forest and Isle of Wight tours were enjoyed by those who rode. Not strenuous but enough to lose Terry, or perhaps it was Rosemary and I who muffed it. I had mixed feelings about Coppleridge in July as I always enjoy Foxlease, but I must admit being very pleasantly surprised and have no worries for 2011.After Copperidge a referendum produced a 2 to 1 majority

for change and thus there will be no May Foxlease, but AGMs are for the moment secure. Our final event, the Buffoons, was blessed with fine, if windy weather, and surprisingly, most people improved their times. The winner of our trophy was Robert Bone with a very impressive ride on his new bike. Well done Rob. The Buffoons also provided us with the third main change. All our wonderful dinner ladies decided it was time to retire. They will be sorely missed. However, I’m hopeful that enough of the younger lady members will slip into the breech, and continue the tradition of really great meals, cakes etc., all of which have become such an integral part of Buffoon Sunday. Thanks so much to all. All in all the Club’s events have been so successful and well run as we have come to expect. 2011 will bring some changes - and change is good. Colin

Matters of the Moment The Club Dinner/AGM/mid-week gathering will once again be at Foxlease in the New Forest commencing Monday 24th January 2011 (note the extra day if you want it) with the Club Dinner on Wednesday 26th with the AGM at 10am on the 27th January. You are sure of a good time with the usual good food. Bookings to Colin (01725 510680) as soon as you are able. Note, dinner will be given on both Monday and Tuesday evenings. The Audax will be on Sunday 10th April 2011 at the usual venue. On Saturday 9th there will be dinner at The Red Lion Northmoor as before. Book with Ken and Marion (01694 751270) for riders and diners. Don’t miss this! Provisional date for the Spring Tour at Coppleridge is 14 to16 June. This year’s visit was deemed to be a great success so why not try it again? The Old Buffoons is on 9th October with the Bath Road organising the time trial and a new team in the kitchen, exciting---you bet!! Watch out for news sheets about anything else that may arise.

Ed.

Things Cycling Ah well, my hopes for messrs. Wiggins and Cavendish in Le Tour were only half right for this year. Wiggo found the going a bit hard and did not come thro’ as hoped but there is always next year. Cavendish was something else. Only 11 points adrift in the Tour points classification for 2nd place (could he have done more in the intermediate sprints?) Lost his lead out man in the Paris stage sprint but came from seemingly nowhere to take the victory, amazing. He then proceeded to take the points race in the “Spanish Club Run” in some style, even headed the event for two days. Going well. At home, “the Hutch” reduced the 10 record to 17 something, frightening. In a review of riders and their bikes in the National 12 hour a certain Mark Arnold rode a steel framed bike and on a fixed gear of (get this) 106ins and managed 274 miles. Phew! World’s time trials - Emma “pocket rocket” Pooley swept to victory in no uncertain fashion while David Miller came a great second in the men’s race. Well done indeed. Round the world - Some people are gluttons for punishment. A Mr. Vin Cox has done the 18000 miles plus in 163 days 6 hours 58 mins. This has been ratified so if any of you are prepared to have a go, I will hold your coat! It would appear that some other bod is having a go but on a light weight stripped bike with back up vehicles. Now whether this is in the true spirit of the event I do not know, perhaps he wants to set a separate type of record, who knows? Either way you have surely got to be slightly barmy to take this sort of thing on. Now, going on in my usual manner about cycle paths, this is, or appears to be a cycle lane (same sort of thing) but at about 9 feet long is not that much good would you say. And there is no marking of any kind for about 300 yards to some lights. To crown it all not 20 yards further

back is this double yellow line a magnificent 8 feet long on a corner. Ok for some idiot to park a Smart car on I suppose but come on, let us have some sense here. Ed.

Club Dinner/AGM Creatures of habit we may be and so once again the faithful gathered at Foxlease for the annual feed up, drink up and speak up event of the year with 17 for the pre-event dinner, 23 for the dinner proper and 22 for the AGM all similar to the year before. Foxlease staff gave us the usual warm welcome and food to their unrivalled standard. The Club dinner was up to it’s ever high class affair. Keith became the Club’s first “Strictly not Dancing Champion” to the amazement of everyone including himself and the judges. “Seven” they all cried, a worthy winner. A presentation of a painted plate was made to Marion and Ken for all the hard work they have done for the Club over the years. Very worthy recipients. The AGM, that maybe stilted but necessary yearly occasion was the business of the morning. Reports given and accepted with news of another good year from the Treasurer. Following the very welcome buffet lunch we all wended our way home after a most enjoyable few days. Ed.

Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Audax time Again With starters down a bit on last year it was still a good turnout and so off they went again for a spin in the countryside. What better way to spend the day? Our manning of the Uffington control proved, once again, to be worthwhile. The cakes were high on the approved list. It is, of course, not just the

Audax but a social weekend as well. More people staying at a local campsite taking dinner at the campâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s restaurant on the Friday and then the usual gathering on the Saturday evening at the Red Lion at Northmoor, 19 to be precise. Along with the refreshments at headquarters the ladies once again came up trumps with an excellent buffet. All good stuff.

With the favourable weather, most riders got round in a reasonable fashion and it would appear that many will be back again. See you there in 2011?, We certainly hope so. Ed.

Shrove Tuesday The story of a ride in familiar territory One Monday evening in the spring of 1930 I was preparing to set out on a cycling trip. My bicycle stood all polished and oiled, and I was packing my saddle bag. Into this very small bag must go everything I would need to wear and use for two weeks, clothing, a cotton sleeping sheet, knife fork spoon plate and mug, tin opener, matches, food for 24 hours, my maps, my money (all of £5) and my oilskin cape and Brownie box camera strapped on the outside. This done, I went to bed early, and hardly had I fallen asleep than my mother wakened me. I ate a good breakfast with my mother standing over me, and at 2 am set off in the chill darkness. I rode in silence with only the light from my cycle to keep me company, and had plenty of time to wonder if I was quite sane to be doing such a thing at that hour. But soon the sky became light and I could see the trees and hedgerows outlined. I was travelling with my back to the east, and as colour began to tinge the sky, I stopped for a moment to look back at the sunrise. A few birds began to sing, a few bedroom windows began to light up and chimneys gave off a sweet wood smoke scent as fires were kindled. Occasionally I caught a fleeting whiff of bacon cooking. Traffic on the road was very sparse, an occasional cyclist going early to work, and now and again a car with its headlights seemed to fill the world for a moment as it flashed past. I felt complete freedom and independence. Speed seems absolute on a bicycle. It is so silent, and one is in close contact with the surroundings as they slip past. I was to travel on for about 14 hours that day. My home was in Kent - not far from

Canterbury and the road I was on would take me to Winchester, a distance of 110 miles, passing roughly along the route that the pilgrims travelled in mediaeval times. At about 10 o'clock I reached the Hog's Back - a cruel hill that looks to be such a gentle incline but which in fact climbs quite viciously and goes on and on. It even seems as if the summit is retreating ahead of you and the whole of the world seemed to lie spread out below and away beyond sight. There I stopped and ate my sandwiches and gazed at the view as I had done many times before, and once more I felt I could never take it in sufficiently. My tiredness fled, and by mid afternoon I was spinning down the last hill passing the milestone that said “Winchester 1 mile “ My destination in Winchester was an old watermill built spanning the River Itchen. It no longer worked as a mill and was used as a youth hostel. I put my bicycle away in the shed, presented myself to the warden, paid my dues, made up my bed with my own sleeping bag and three youth hostel blankets - heavy in weight and dark in colour. Then went for a much needed wash. The only facilities provided were a bucket on a rope for hauling water out of the mill stream, an enamelled bowl and a wooden bench. The water was soft as silk but cold as ice. Washing here in summer was more painful than pleasant, in winter it was an agony, not to be contemplated more than once a week at most. The next essential was to cook something to eat, The kitchen was as primitive as the wash place. It offered a row of oil stoves and a sink and a tap. It was wise to get to the kitchen continues on page 20

Foxlease -

The Spring Tour

Eighteen of us met up at Foxlease on the 4th. May for our annual Spring tour, numbers slightly down on previous years. As usual the company, food and service were of a very high order, with Maureen and her girls looking after us superbly.

The weather was kind to the five cyclists who had a leisurely tour of the New Forest, with the obligatory morning coffee break in Lymington - did you know that T.E. Lawrence ( Lawrence of Arabia for the unread) once lived in Lymington. I know cos I saw the Plaque. We lunched at Lepe at the cafe on the beach, where we were joined by Anne and Keith. There is some interesting information on the second world war on display for those interested.

After lunch we headed for Brockenhurst for afternoon tea at the Teddy Bear cafĂŠ - not its real name but known to us by this title. The following day was our annual trip to the Isle of Wight. The cyclists piled themselves into and onto Ken and Marion's car and made their way to Lymington ferry, where the pedestrian members (well free bus pass users actually) joined us.

After communal coffee on the ferry, we set off on a fairly familiar route and with his usual navigational skill, Colin guided us to one of our favourite watering holes--the New Inn at Shalfleet, where the food is exceptionally good. exceptionally good!

We all ate too much and Marion felt she would like a shorter ride than planned so she and Ken left for a direct route to Yarmouth. Colin, Rosemary and I decided to keep to the original route along the hilly coast road to Freshwater and then across to Yarmouth. As we all know, Colin and Rosemary are the Club's answer to Fausto Coppi and Eileen Sheridan and they were soon leaving me on the hills. We agreed that they carried on at their pace and would wait for me at Freshwater Bay at the Yarmouth road junction. Off they went and soon disappeared from view, but at a slightly slower pace, and lower gear, I made good progress and enjoyed the

ride. When I reached the junction not a sign of them. After a short wait I concluded that they had proceeded to Yarmouth and carried on. After about half an hour I reached the ferry terminal where I met up with Ken and Marion. Again no sign of Colin and Rosemary and about 45 minutes later Ken received a call on his mobile from Colin saying " I'm afraid we have lost Terry" Ken's reply that "I'm afraid we've found him " was a little out of order, but Colin and Rosemary finally arrived some 30 minutes later. They apparently overshot the junction but noticed a convenient convenience, so stopped to satisfy their needs, apparently thinking that I would be walking the steepest hill and that they had plenty of time. Oh ye of little faith!! I also asked a local cyclist in Freshwater for the best route to Yarmouth and he directed me through a housing estate that saved me a few miles. Anyway, it was a good day followed by a great evening meal to round off our trip Sadly, this is our last Spring visit to Foxlease, at least for a while, and we will meet at Coppleridge in July for a summer tour instead. However, I expect us all to be at Foxlease at the end of January for the AGM--don't forget that we can have an extra day. Please advise Fausto--sorry-Colin of your accommodation requirements. Terry

The 51st Old Buffoons

Not since David challenged Goliath or, more apposite, since I went training with Phil Guy (Manchester Wheelers BBAR winning team member and rather good at ‘100s’) has there been such a disparity of abilities on the same road at the same time. Stuart Jackson tore past the ‘10’ mark in 24:48 completing the lap in 26:39 putting just 7 seconds into Colin Williamson with our own Bill Bentley a further minute back. These athletes were followed at ever greater time gaps by a rag bag of old geysers, immature youngsters and one not immature lady all of whom could of course have easily beaten me had I been foolish enough to enter.

Harlequins Robert Bone Bill Bentley Brian Wright Colin Seago Julia Baker-Beale Stan Dackombe David Haworth

‘10’

Lap

H’cap

31.14 25:49 32:38 32.07 33:17 41:49 34:01

33.39 27:46 35:10 34:30 35:40 44:50 36:35

20.24 25:16 25.55 26:30 29:40 30:05 31:35

Greenford Clive Rhodes 25:13 Colin Williamson 24:54 Praise in buckets for Robert Jim Williams 29:33 Bone for turning out in a Phil Williamson (run) 91:00 magnificent retro Harlequins David Rhodes 35:33 jersey from the late 50s. Terry Williamson 39:27 ( and he also won the event, nearly forgot that.) Colin was delighted to beat his personal trainer and his time of last year. Brian was delighted to beat his grandson and his time of last year. Stan would have been delighted to beat anything.

Bath Road Chris Morris Dave Devine Colin Mann Stuart Jackson Tom Moore Bill Cox (run)

25:40 26:37 29:15 24:48 33:55 91:00

27:05 22:05 26:46 26:31 31:50 26:35 26:45 38:15 28:30 42:25 37:25 28:10 28:40 31:31 26:39 36:34

25:25 25:55 26:16 26:39 28:04 31:45

The handicapping was as usual stunning. Save that is for the Rhodes (father and son) who stood out as anomalies in a way that only the Greenford could. Most importantly of all Chris Morris put in a powerful performance to take his club’s trophy, the ever useful stainless steel po. It’s important because Chris, one time Harlequin, long time Bath Road and never in any way associated with the Greenford, will be organiser of future Buffoon’s ‘10s’. Good luck mate, it’s not much of an act to follow, you’ll be OK. KK

Robert on his way to victory

Lunching with the Old Buffoons This, for the large proportion of us, is the easy bit. Just gather, chat , have a slurp or two of the old vino collapso, eat our way thro’ an excellent lunch, win a prize or two in the raffle and chill, all contented like. I said the large proportion. There are of course the ladies in the kitchen who have not only done a great deal of preparation before hand but worked like mad to get the lunch together by the allotted time. This particular group are however passing on this task to a new team for 2011. So well done Thelma, Jan, June, Molly and Heather, you now deserve a break, so it’s been there, done that, thank you and goodbye.

Thanks also to the table shifters and dressers, raffle prize givers and anyone else who contributed in whatever way. Thanks are also due to the reason we were all there, the Old Buffoons --- the Event. Ken was his usual self apart from the fact that he and Marion were delayed on the way cutting it all a bit fine but he managed, as always. photo Bob Mahoney Thanks also to the marshals and of course the timekeepers, Keith, Kay and Ann, an onerous task if ever there was one! Young Robert Bone was all smiles as he stepped up to collect the trophy. He was even smiling when he wizzed by us out at Haddenham. Posh jersey as well. We managed to take a few bob on the raffle as well so helping out the finances for next year. Talking of next year, just to confirm that the race will be run by the Bath Road Club and good luck to them. Lunch, in all it’s glory will be prepared and served by a new team who I am sure will carry on the traditions as before. So, once again, a great day, great fun and I am sure 2011 will be just as successful. Ed.

The Coppleridge Meet

Most of us, Brian and Kay ,Don and Heather, Ken and Marion,Colin and Rosemary, Anne, Janneke and myself met up for lunch on the Tuesday at the Salt Cellar, a delightful and popular [a long wait for food when you're hungry] cafe/restaurant in Shaftesbury, overlooking Gold Hill of Hovis advert fame. When there's food involved, sitting on damp outside tables was not considered a problem to us hardy outdoor types After a short wander around the town we made our way, some riding, others driving, to Coppleridge and were joined by Den and Thelma. We knew about the tennis courts in the gounds so Janneke, Kay, Brian and myself had a couple of games to work up a thirst and appetite before dinner. What was also convenient was a vacant lounge/games room separate from the main bar area, where we could sit and chat over pre-dinner drinks and listen to Brian's really funny jokes [fortunately dinner was served soon after]. The three course menu was reasonable and more than adequate which is saying something for us Harlequins [even

Colin had enough], so much so that all we wanted to do afterwards was to take a leisurely stroll back to our rooms and retire for the night The following day we split up and did our separate things. Everybody, except Anne, Janneke, Kay and myself either cycled or drove to Montacute House, a National Trust property just east of Yeovil . As usual Colin's estimate of the mileage ridden turned out to be rather optomistic. It was there that Heather had the unusual experience of a kestral landing on her rucksack. Don, ignoring the possibility of her being eaten alive, decided to photograph the event. The walkers, Anne, Janneke, Kay and myself took a short drive over to near Stourhead, visiting King Alfreds Tower, a 50metre high brick folly constucted about 240 years ago to commemorate the end of the Seven Years War against France and supposedly near where Alfred the Great rallied the Saxons in May 878 before the Battle of Ethandun against the Danes. [too much information I hear you say. Well, if you want people to write articles for the magazine.....] However, Alfred must have gone out on his bike that morning because the place was closed and we were unable to climb the 205 steps to the top. We then took walk of a few miles to Stourhead House for lunch. It was on this walk that we were met by a squadron of horse

flies. Judging by the size of bites that resulted they must have been closely related to the giant killer mosquitoes encountered in Ghent a few years ago. You will be relieved to hear that the swelling is gradually easing As we all know, we don't turn back or retrace our steps so with our unfailing sense of direction we set off back to the car. Well, in densely wooded areas with footpaths winding left and right, not to mention up and down the impossible happened. It's always a problem convincing others that we are going in the right direction but I must admit that over the years I've had a bit of practice in that situation. However we eventually stumbled upon a road and stopped a car to ask directions back to Alfreds Tower car park. "Just up the hill a bit" we were told. You could tell he was a motorist as opposed to a walker because it was some hill and of course ot started to rain, not just a shower but a proper downpour, eventually arriving back at the car with the poor girls absolutely drenched and worn out. I did suggest that they took off their wet clothes to dry out but didn't seem too keen. On the Thursday Den and Thelma went off to the Haynes Motor Museum and visited relatives near Castle Cary before driving home . Similarly Don and Heather set off for home that day stopping en route at another National Trust property, Great Chalfield Manor near Melksham. Brian and I enjoyed our game of tennis so much the first day that we decided to have another one before breakfast. Through no fault of mine there was total confusion

regarding the time of the game, resulting in my having to get out of bed, rush over to the court in my pyjamas and be expected to perform to my usual level, despite the pouring rain and gale force winds. My failing memory prevents me from remembering the outcome but Brian knows that I'm looking forward to our next game. After Don and Heather and Den and Thelma left after breakfast, Anne, Janneke and I met up with the others at an organic farm in Gold Hill. Despite the pleasant welcome we received from the owners their vegetables looked as bug-eaten as mine. Fortunately they also had a cafe attached to the garden centre with home-made food [I should have had the pizza] Janneke, who had flown over to us the previous week had booked her return flight from Gatwick that evening, so after lunch we said our goodbyes and left. What was appreciated by her was how pleased everyone was to see her again. The die-hards, Colin, Rosemary, Ken, Marion, Brian and Kay ,who all stayed on for the Thursday night, were eventually thrown out the following morning and, after a short visit to the Abbey Gardens on the outskirts of Shaftesbury, went their separate ways. I was happy with Coppleridge and would be prepared to return, a view shared by the majority of us, confirmed by Colin's survey. I believe the one negative issue with that venue might be the accommodation for the caravans but I stand to be corrected on that point. The most important thing, though, is that we continue to meet up with each other irrespective of where. KW

In September Ken & Marion, Rosemary, Brian & Kay spent a few days in a cottage in Port Isaac

Scraps from a we rode the Camel trail, dodging wobbling Treats on trikes Today holidaymakers on hired bikes. Starting at Poley Bridge the 18 mile converted rail track runs in deep cuttings through wooded hills alongside the Camel river. It is narrow at first (scarcely two abreast) and views are limited by the trees. Nevertheless the bubbling and ever growing Camel provided pleasant parts in which to linger a while. Below Wadebridge and for the last 5 miles the trail opens out to reveal splendid estuary views towards Padstow and the fiefdom of Rick Stein. ‘Padstein’ as they quip, is a sweet little fishing port that has been transformed into a fishy goldmine by Rick’s posh and expensive restaurants and not so posh but still expensive fish & chip shop. We conserved our funds and ate pasties on the harbour wall whilst watching a party of school children, close packed along the slipway, dipping for crabs. The Trail Society has made a huge commercial success not least in spawning numerous bike hire businesses. We saw at least 500 hire bikes out on an off-season Thursday and at £10 upwards for a day’s hire that is good pickings. One enterprise not to be missed is Treats on Trikes. This young lady pedals down the trail offering tea and cakes from her tricycle kitchen. Whether she is making a nice living or is just plain crazy we never established but we did have a nice cup of Earl Grey. Tonight it is Scallops Newburg followed by Myrtle’s Turbot the latter being a recipe from one of Rick’s books. I like a bit of cooking and am never happier than when beating egg yokes into double cream to pour over sweet seafood flamed in fine brandy. In the small and unfamiliar kitchen with limited facilities to devote to the fiendish complexity of the Newburg sauce Myrtle’s simple method of serving the turbot

Haute cuisine and grand larceny

Cornish kitchen will provide a practical balance as well as a satisfactory contrast of textures and flavours. We were attracted to this spot partly by the fish merchant who trades on the slipway. On this occasion he provided both the scallops and a decent sized turbot for hardly more than a king’s ransom. The turbot recipe does however demand some fresh herbs a little beyond the range of the local Coop. Yesterday we cadged some mint from a local gardener but it seems a bit much to go back and demand parsley, bay leaves and chives. So The view from our kitchen window we set off to scour the narrow streets and passages tightly packed with cottages that do not lend themselves to much in the way of gardens. We had some difficulty in locating our quarry. A bay tree was found but I couldn’t reach the leaves from the path. Besides the cottage window was open and I feared being apprehended. An ample parcel of parsley intended for a local restaurant proved accessible and before long a more favourably sited bay tree was found. The chives eluded us but we thought we might nick them from the vegetable garden a nearby NT property which we are to visit this afternoon. (Oh come on … we’ve paid our NT subscription for years and hardly if ever recovered it from admission charges.) The fish was delicious. For those who need to know grand larceny is the theft of goods to the value of more than one shilling like herbs. Today my just deserts have turned out to be well and truly grand. Our car hit a loose rock on the road that destroyed a near new tyre which took us three miserable hours and £92 to replace. Does He not move in mysterious ways? KK

Just des(s)erts

Myrtle’s Turbot

CYCLISTS UNITED Riding round my little patch of Dorset I tend to see the same solitary cyclists quite a bit. One such person is an elderly man always in a rust colored sweatshirt and his trousers tucked into cycle clips. He wears cycling shoes but never a helmet but you can tell by the way he rides his bike that he has been riding for years. I asked a cycling friend if she knew him, and she said he is a stalwart member of her Club, Bournemouth Arrows, and is always there on their training evenings at an old track in Poole or evening 10s encouraging the youngsters from the sidelines. Another old man I see (why do I only meet old men?) rides an old ‘sit and up and beg’ bike and always wears a dayglow jacket. I see him just about every time I go out and he always has a smile on his face and gives a friendly wave. The other week I was told by our daughter that she had seen him at the side of the road with a group of people being helped into an ambulance. I didn’t see him for quite a few weeks after that, then just a couple of weeks ago I saw him again, same smile, same wave, same day glow jacket, but new bike! It quite made my day. One day, having stopped for a cup of tea and piece of cake at Cranborne Garden Centre, (I had cycled all of 5 miles to get there) I got talking to some local CTC people. Very friendly and chatty. It turned out I was talking to Fred and Jean Burrell

who knew Reg from years ago and Fred was 24 Hour National Champion at one time, and Reg has told me since that Jean herself had been a fast lady over 50 and 100 miles. Sitting talking to these two very fit and friendly people, it struck me how unassuming they were of their past achievements. Of course, not everybody you meet on a bike is someone you can get on with. There was the time when Colin and I were just getting back on our bikes after a tea-break in Devon, when a lone cyclist stopped to talk. He insisted we ride with him as we were on his patch and he knew the best route. He was very chatty but somehow odd and we wondered how we could get rid of him. We had already picked out a short cut

on the map but he was horrified saying our lightweight bikes would be ruined on such a rough track, and he certainly wouldn‘t take his bike down it. This was enough for us to give it a go. He was right, our bikes were no match for the boulder strewn sticky mud, but we carried on, carrying our bikes more than riding them, rather than go back in case he was patiently waiting for us! Another time on a trip to Norfolk we got talking to a delightful elderly lady who told us about a cycle ride she made in the War. She had been nursing in London and had seen some terrible injuries from the bombing raids. She had been signed off sick for a month to get over all she had seen and had to deal with, and all she wanted to do was get out of London. She decided to cycle to Lands End, all on her own, on an old bike and hardly any money. She slept in barns and the occasional farmhouse, but how she found her way without signposts I don’t know. Much as I enjoy cycling through the lanes near me, there is no doubting that the traffic is getting a lot heavier. I am thinking of buying an off road bike to use through the Forestry Commission land on our doorstep. I see quite a few people on bikes when I am out walking the dogs through the forest, and you never know, I might even meet a young person to talk to!

Rosemary

Old Buffoons Alphabet A for arthritis. B the bad back. C are the chest pains, perhaps cardiac. D is for dental decay and decline. E is for eyesight, can’t read the top line. F is for fissures and fluid retention. G stands for gas which I’d rather not mention. H is high blood pressure (I’d rather it low) I for incisions with scars you can show. J is for joints worn out and won’t bend. K is for knees that crack when you bend. L for libido, what happened to sex. M is for memory, I forget what comes next. N for neuralgia, in nerves down below. O is for osteo, does it work? I don’t know. P for prescription, there are quite a few. Q is for queasy, is it fatal or flue? R is for reflux, one meal turns to two. S is for sleep loss, counting my fears. T is for tinnitus, bells in my ears. U is for urinary troubles with flow. V stands for vertigo, that’s dizzy you know. W we worry whats going around. X is for x-ray and what be found. Y for another year-further behind, and Z is for zest, it’s still in my mind!

A Lakeland Journey No itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s not a visit to the well known town centre kitchen shop but a journey oop north to visit an area we have never been before. So off we trundled, caravan in tow, up the A1 stopping overnight at Newark on a very smart site which, would you believe, was home to about ten guinea pigs happily housed beneath a shed. Strange. Up bright and early, back on the road continuing north to Scotch Corner, smartly left onto the A66. Blue sky, fluffy white clouds, what a road to be on. Some dual-carriage way but just so picturesque throughout. Winter could be interesting however, the reason for the red and white poles about 9 feet high at regular intervals giving people an idea of where the road might be in the snow. Brough, Penrith (shades of the End to End) and on to Keswick, home to a pencil factory!! We do see life us two. South down Derwentwater over a very narrow bridge up the west side on an equally narrow road to our home for six nights at Low Manesty. In among the trees we did have a view throâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; to the water. Busy site, full of intrepid walkers, all rucksacks, big boots and walking poles. Tales of walking 8 or 10 hours up and over the fells (technical term that) nourished by Kendal Mint cake (revolting stuff) and

flasks of stewed tea. Not a gin and tonic in sight. Us, we drove and walked a bit. Picnic and pub lunches. The weather? Not bad actually some rain, some mizzle we even saw the sun, all in all pretty good. In the time we were there we managed to go round, go near or

the pub for a pint sort of Wordsworth and, of course, the scene of the terrible flooding earlier. The town is still suffering from the effects of this disaster, quite a bit has been refurbished but many houses empty, dark and dank. A lot of work still needs to be done, we were told that some insurance companies had settled, others where still in discussion. It would appear that many residents have tried to reinsure but only after agreeing to a ÂŁ 20,000 excess. All that besides, the whole area is a joy to visit, wonderful views, great people and so much to see, we must go again. Time up, off we went to pay a visit to our daughter and son-in-law over some five passes, steepest gradient at their B and B in Blackpool. We stayed 28%. Although passenger, Juneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s brake in a small site out in the country but how different it all was. All Kiss-mefoot was working overtime. The Wrynose and the Hardknott passes are Quick hats and candy floss. Vive la not for the fainthearted but a challenge difference. just the same. So after some family time it was off One rainy day we set off for Cockermouth, home of William Wordsworth you know, I wandered

lonely as a cloud but blow it, down to

back home after quite an adventurous break with sights and places not to be forgotten. Derek

Life is too Short to Dance with Ugly Women (A selection of one-liners for people of a certain age) Age is something that doesn’t matter, unless you are a cheese. Satchel Paige How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were. Satchel Paige Thirty is a nice age for a woman, especially if she happens to be forty. Phyllis Diller I’m 52 years of age now but if prefer to think of myself as 11 centigrade. Tom Lehrer Birthdays are good for you. The people who have most live the longest. Larry Lorenzoni You know you are getting older if you have more fingers than real teeth. Rodney Dangerfield You know you are getting older when you open the fridge door and can’t remember if you are putting something in or taking something out. Lottie Robson I’m so old that when I order a 3 minute egg they ask for the money up front. Milton Burle I’ve just become a pensioner so I am saving up for my own hospital trolley. Tom Baker He’s on the mend, sitting up in bed blowing the froth off his medicine. Flann O’Brien I took a physical for some health insurance. All I got was fire and theft. Milton Berle When I was young there were no paedophiles, we had to buy our own sweets Anon continued from page 7

early, and ignoring all thoughts of Christian charity to select the best pan and an oil stove that worked. It was no occasion for anything but the simplest of menus - a packet of soup made up and heated followed by fried sausages or bacon, beans and tomatoes and finished with a slice of cake and fruit. The kitchen soon filled with other folk, their efforts ranged from the supremely competent to the abysmally inadequate. Some stoves smoked, some eggs got burned, some soup boiled over, and some pans caught fire but in spite of all this the air in the kitchen was always as fresh as that out on the open moors, for a strong draught, cool and fresh from the mill stream beneath came up though the floor boards. Now at last, I come to the point of my story. That day a very competent looking lad came into the kitchen. He cooked

his main course and ate it - then he produced a wine bottle, a lemon, a jar of sugar and some lard. Taking a clean pan. he melted a little fat in it shook his wine bottle vigorously, poured a small quantity of the contents into the pan - and behold - a pancake! He turned it carefully with a knife - then put it onto a plate - sprinkled it with sugar and lemon juice - and repeated the operation again and again till his bottle was empty and about a dozen pancakes were piled on the plate. Then he sat down and ate them! You see it was Shrove Tuesday - and I shall remember him and his bottle of batter every Shrove Tuesday of my life. Margery Leese In 1930 Margery would have been 21 years old. She cycled this route many times, on her way from home to Bristol, where she did her teacher training.

Join us at the World Track Championships in Apeldoorn 23rd - 27th March 2011 The Harlequins are going to Worlds - details from Brian - donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t delay, booking before the year end is essential.