Rain, hail, sun, repeat

or, I need a beer in a warm pub

Around twenty five keen cyclists turned up on Saturday at Nonsuch and after some debate a sporting Godfrey generously volunteered to lead a longer ride to Wimbledon Park.  Thirteen joined him, including Ruth and Rob on the tandem, and Maggie, Paul, Steve Hobbs, Sharon, Tom, Alice, Helen, Yasmin, Ray Ward and Dee set out in the cold wind.

Our ride was punctuated with rain showers and hail showers, each one calculated to last just as long as it takes for everyone to put on their rainproof, and then the sun would emerge and make it too warm to wear all that clobber!

We nevertheless had a a really enjoyable ride, past Scallywags to the Brook at Worcester Park, up Green Lane and along the path with horses on either side, around Motspur Park Football Club, tantalisingly close to the Earl Beatty.  Up Seaforth Avenue, over the level crossing, through the Raynes Park one way system, up the hill at Durham Road and Cottenham Park Road to the Crooked Billet.

From there along the Common South Side to the Rose and Crown, past the Dog and Fox, left at The Ivy and our reward for that climb, down Church Road, Arthur Road and Home Park Road (wheeee...) to the Wimbledon Park Cafeteria.  Families were pretending to enjoy their day in the park between the hail showers while I had the best Bakewell Tart this side of Matlock (yum) and sampled the worst toilets this side of Afghanistan.  Well, nearly; some of the ladies chose to wait until the temporary cabins at Richmond Park.  

The price of downhill and cake was the short, steep climb up Woodspring Road and Princes Way, then under the Tibbet's Corner roundabout to the Telegraph.  Down over Putney Heath to Roehampton, up Danebury Avenue to Roehampton Gate and through Richmond Park, out of Robin Hood Gate and down Robin Hood Way.  Under the A3, past Colliers Wood United Football Club and more or less retracing our tyre tracks from Coombe Lane back to Nonsuch.

Home from there past Ye Olde Red Lion (which isn't old at all), The Moon on the Hill, the Little Windsor, just avoiding the Lord Nelson and passing The May Tree and how I longed to call in The Hope for a pint of its very fine finest.  The place seemed so cosy and welcoming but we were showing Sharon the way home and the clouds were turning indigo again and the temperature falling and she had to go all the way to Purley.  Sigh.  

Onward past The Sun, the derelict Fox and Hounds, and The Star (used to be the Lord Melbourne) and home to warmth at last and a bottle of craft ale.

Thanks to Godfrey for stepping in as leader.  Thirty miles all told, our door to door.