It’s a BOGOF edition today, since that new website editor forgot to upload last weeks report.
With both Fred and Simon missing last week we were a little short on decision-making skills. Mullion was quickly suggested and just as quickly dismissed but there was a consensus for Portreath, but to revisit the Tideline café instead of our more recent regular choice, The Atlantic. Bernie, Phil1, Raymondo, Richard, Ian and myself set out from Union Corner but just Mike2 was waiting at Halvasso turn. It was a fairly uneventful ride out, or at least nothing has remained in either my or Mr Garmin’s memory, other than the route, via Tehidy. However, the Tideline was closed so it was to be back to the Atlantic, where we received the usual warm welcome and our round table waiting for us. If you are now expecting a word for word account of the scintillating conversation that always accompanies our Wednesday get-togethers, you are obviously not well acquainted with my memory. We left just as the Last of the Summer Whiners arrived, or at least Mr G, Big Bob and Red Leader; and Mr & Mrs Lance in civvies. Our route back was via the tramway and we all got home safe, and I think it was about 43 miles for me.
Today, with an unfavourable weather forecast I was the only one foolish enough to be at Union Corner, in the rain, although Phil1 caught me up after a few minutes. Mike2 was standing in the middle of the road, as usual, at Halvasso and Fred was well tucked into the gateway. Simon had sent a text to say he was running late so Fred texted back “Miss Molly’s” on his new phone and I did like wise, because Fred was using his new phone. But Simon wasn’t too late as he met up with us just before Halvasso hill. Claiming the extreme weather exemption to the 11 o’clock rule we took the direct route across to Bolenowe, by which time Simon had worked out why he was getting both wet and cold, and stopped to put on his coat, then under the railway at Brea.
The window seat awaited us and with gloves draped near and on the wood burner we were soon ready to order. Apart from the proximity to the wood burner the other advantage of the window seat was that we could see that it had now stopped raining and was almost sunny. It was a two coffee stop with much reminiscing about rides long gone and some to come, with a touch of Trump thrown in. It started raining again as we left but at least the saddles were dry. Again we chose the direct way back, along the cycle track to St Eunny and up to Piece, and even had a touch of tailwind along the way. Simon turned of Penhalvean and we escorted Fred back to the other place before heading back to Falmouth. They say you never regret going, but I came close. 32 miles for me. Dean