Nonsuch 1-o-clockers No-Mates to Molesey, 27 December.

A beautiful but cold winter's day and despite it being in the middle of the festive season, sixteen riders turned up at the Mansion for the 1-o-clock ride, including Wendy, who had not been out with us for a long while and a cyclist to whom I was not introduced, and did not anyway come on the ride.

Steve W was there to lead so he and I agreed to end up at the scheduled destination, the Molsesey Boat Club, by our different routes and at a different pace.  We also agreed, since we were starting out in the same direction, that he would go first.

Off he set, and the majority followed him, including one or two riders I thought would have preferred to be in my group.  That left me with five to lead but once they realised it was me they all started making excuses.  The mysterious newcomer was there only to have his bike fixed.  Roger suddenly developed chain problems.  Somebody had earache and it was a cold day.  The fourth just went home.

That left Nigel and me, so off we set at a pace which might enable us to catch up the others, even though I was not sure what route Steve was taking.

Sure enough, as we got to the centre of Kingston, we intercepted them.  But across the bridge we were on our own again.  I pondered taking a short route and get in the tea queue before them but it was at that stage glorious winter sunshine and the attraction of Cobblers Walk and the Avenue across Bushy Park on such a day and the chance to spot a deer or a snow leopard was too much; we arrived at the Boat club in time to lock up and mount the stairs with the fast group's backmarker.  

Thirteen on the River

We tagged on with the group on the way home but peeled off for our own route through Surbiton and Old Malden.

Thanks, Nigel, for the company on the road.  Thanks, everyone else, for the company at tea.

Another day of sunshine. Beddington 1-o-clockers to Merton Abbey Mills, 20 December

Those of us planning a night clubbing (well, Christmas lights at Wakefield Place is as close as it gets at our age) were keen on a short, smart run this afternoon, which was a bit sad because the weather was perfect for Cycling, the low winter sun providing the only meterological hazard, the Wandle wildlife providing a zoological one.

The usual suspects, Ken, Anna, Roger and Sharon, joined Maggie and me for a quick trip through the Beddington Park Industrial Estate, Mitcham Common and Figge's Marsh to Colliers Wood and the M.E.D cafe.  This route was especially chosen not only to dispel any myth that London is not superior to Paris in architecture and ambience, but also to give certain parties the opportunity to complain about the price of the (delicious) pumpkin and ginger cake, and the paper cups.

Home along the Wandle where we encountered swarms of midges that came across in waves and spattered against our rainproofs and got inside our goggles and, for those unwise enough to afford them access, inside our mouths.  A low chlerestorol, low sugar snack, I am told.  Lower than the pumpkin cake.

At the Phipps Bridge folly

Thanks to everyone for their company and for kindly co-operating in our quest to get home and go out for the evening.

In case you wondered, the lights at Wakefield Place were superb.

A winter sun. Nonsuch 1-o-clockers to Molesey Boat Club, 13 December.

What a splendid day for cycling!  A little parky for those of us in shorts who were out on the road at 8.30 to watch their grandchildren play rugby, but clear and blue and dry.

We had a majority electing to avoid the scheduled trip up Box Hill, suggesting we stop at Leatherhead, or even at Ashtead, but another reasonable crowd had gathered at the Mansion House in Nonsuch Park, including a few I knew would want the full run.  Just as I was working out the logistics of a fairly full ride to Ashtead and waving the others on without a recognised leader, so Steve W turned up to solve my problem and Nigel suggested a moderate ride in the opposite direction, to Eight on the River.

As last week, Molesey is at the limits of a ride at modest pace if we are to enjoy tea and cake and get most people home before darkfall, but agreement was reached and off I went up the newly restructured path towards Sparrow Hill; Ken, Karen, Anna, Roger, Maggie, Lorraine following me and Nigel bringing up the rear.  Behind us we left the others chatting but they clearly did end up going on their ride.

A pleasant, incident-free ride wherein the only hazard was negotiating the fancy dress charity run by Wimbledon College students on the Thames Path.  It was almost too warm inside the rowing club cafe, and therefore difficult to leave.  We chose the straightest, swiftest road home through Bushy Park and across Kingston Bridge and after going our separate ways at Worcester Park, most will have got home before it was really dark.

Evening sun in Bushy Park

Good weather, good company, good cake and excellent tea.  What else is Saturday for, now the football has been rescheduled to maximise the armchair pound?

Between the showers; Nonsuch 1-o-clockers to Garson's Farm, 6 December 2025

The riders are many but the leaders are few, so with Nigel away for two weeks and with Steve W building his quadraceps in Tenerife and then off on family business I turned up to lead this week's scheduled ride to Garson's Farm.  Garson's Farm amply justifies the one-o-clock winter start; indeed it is at the limits of sensible rides in these darkest weekends of the year, but I figured we could get there and back, if not all the way to home, before night fell, if we did not dawdle.

The forecast had been pretty gloomy but the day up to lunchtime was a bright, windy autumnal one and we had a decent turnout.  The rising wind and the gathering clouds to the South West deterred none, so Stuart, Rob, Peter, John, Kasumi, Karen, Anna and Roger followed me at what for Beginners was a fairly decent pace through Ewell and Chessington North, Claygate and Esher and in no time at all we were zinging down Lammas Lane and then fighting the Christmas shopping crowds at the garden centre.

The rain threatened all the time but there were only a few delicate spots; we had skilfully timed our teabreak to accommodate the heavy shower.

Peter had forgotten his lights and Rob wanted to get to Rochester that evening, so they left afternoon tea before us, taking Stuart with them.  That left six of us to reclimb Lammas Lane and make our way home through Weston Green, Surbiton and Worcester Park, a ride interrupted only by a photo-stop at Weston Green and an unfortunate spill for Kasumi on St Marks Hill.  While we stuck together, though, we continued to enjoy fortune with the rain but on my way home alone I got a good soaking from Sutton onwards.

Karen looks wistfully towards home as the rain threatens

My indiscretion had been to fall to the temptation of cherry and coconut cake.  It was a huge slice, far too sweet and there was something just not right about it.  I ate it all partly because I thought it might fuel my effort up Lammas Hill.  By the time I'd got to Sutton I was fairly uncomfortable, each thought that returned to the cake increasing my nausea.  Thanks are due to the motorist on Westmead Road who, presumably perceiving my discomfort, attempted to help me through the assisted dying process but the very force of my expletives held him narrowly at bay.

Genuine thanks are due to the good company, and I expect that most riders got home to have their showers indoors.