There was not a lot to commend outdoor cycling this February unless you like the idea of spending the day wearing many layers. The sweat that pours off your brow as you puff and pant up the hills of Kent is quickly chilled and frozen on the way downhill.
Still there is always the compensation of the tea shop where a warm welcome awaits the frozen yet sweaty cyclist. In little cafes we always seem to be ushered into a corner where the air doesn't circulate to put off the other clientele.
Last Sunday's Anerley ride was typically hilly and painful as we meandered our way to Chartwell, Winston Churchill's old place. Des had decided to take his wife out - she probably made him feel guilty about cycling on Valentines day instead of a romantic lunch for two. Thus it was just myself and Christopher suffering for the good of our cause.Good value tea and scones and a sunny view brought back happy memories of picnics with the family. We were in a comfortable mood with an easy ride home ahead of us when I heard a gunshot bang. The crows in the field rose into the air but alas it was not a shotgun. Ewa's rear tyre had a massive hole in it. Although she insisted that it was recently new the tyre was clearly rotting in the wheel and nothing could be done to patch it up.
A valuable lesson was learned by us all and Ewa managed to maintain a semblance of dignity as she headed off to Four Elms with a 3 mile walk ahead of her.
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