It Takes Two to Tandem

With Al's #1 bike stranded at John's, and Billy-Bob's bike still in bits after it's recent arrival from Down Under there was only one thing for it - the tandem would have to come out of mothballs. Billy-Bob was nervous: The last time he had straddled this beast - with Stef riding as stoker - there was nearly a serious falling out (let alone falling off). When Al pointed out that his mate would again be at the pointy end he went visibly pale. Al provided a pep talk as he readjusted the seat posts. He was somewhat skeptical himself that the bike would comfortably accommodate Al (5'9") and Tee (5'3") and also then Billy-Bob (6'0") and himself. If Billy-Bob had meant to instill confidence in his host with a solo practice run down the track from the garage, he failed on every count as he lost control coming to a halt as the track met the main road.

There were second thoughts; should we just stroll to the local pub for a quiet pint? However, it was a glorious, warm evening and this seemed too good an opportunity to miss. A little more fettling and, on the count of three, a slightly wobbly start later, the pair were tentatively easing out of the village. Billy-Bob familiarised himself with the gears; Al tried to overcome the urge to lean over as he anticipated the bends - we could not decide who was the most disconcerted about this new experience. We soon got into the groove though and Billy-Bob laughed maniacally as he wondered at the speed of the bike on the flat (Al stuttered an explanation from behind - something about twice the power and half the wind resistance...). The pair fairly flew to their first port of call - the Horse & Jockey.

Toast to absent Friend, The Horse & Jockey

Our departure from the pub, on the count of three, with a number of onlookers, was slick. Maybe the pints of Ringwood Best had eased the nerves, maybe we were finally settling into the new saddles, but we had a relaxed, smooth ride through Newtown to the Forest of Bere. The only glitch in communication occurring as Billy-Bob steered the bike (maybe on autopilot?) into the car park of the Traveler's Rest, then ran out of car park before he could execute the turning circle. We ordered our pints of Hopback's Crop Circle and sat in the modest beer garden enjoying the last of the spring-time sun, and made a mental note for the future that the Forest of Bere hosts a Fish & Chip van on a Wednesday evening - the smell almost drove us crazy. The pair were getting hungry so it was back on the tandem for the final leg.

On Board with the Tandem Two

By now the pair were in the groove - starts, stops, turns and climbs executed in perfect harmony. The ride home seemed to go by in a flash and we arrived back in Hambledon at 20.30 wishing perhaps that we had stayed out a bit longer now that we were finally enjoying this new team experience. Tee had cooked a delicious sausage casserole and listened knowingly, and maybe wistfully, as the grinning pair provided an account of their experience. It is perhaps safe to say, dear reader, that you have not seen the last of the tandem!

(Posted by: Al)

Life in the Freezer

With a springtime report from Patagonia and an autumnal account of a ride in Collingbourne it would truly be three seasons in one week for the TCA blog: Temperatures hovered just above zero as John and Al fettled their bikes for a decidedly wintery mid-week ride. Al had hoped to have lined up an exotic ride from the QE Park but histrionics from Jimmy following his eight-week jabs hampered Al's preparation so old faithful, Hambledon #1 route came to the rescue.

The conditions had been relatively dry for some time and the leaf litter was strewn across the bridlepaths. It was a clear night with a gibbous moon and it wasn't long before our tyres were crunching through the crispy frozen grass. We made good progress to the White Lion but we didn't hang around outside as usual; for the first time since January we sat inside to have our beers. Parting with tradition we chose a pint of Hole Hearted from Gosport-based Oakleaf Brewing Company. While we enjoyed our beers in a quiet corner we had to contend with a rather drunken Australian who insisted there must be something wrong with us for choosing to go cycling on such a night. It seemed that his tiny antipodean brain could not comprehend that if one chose the correct apparel one could be plenty warm enough.

A Toast to Absent Friends, The White Lion

Thankfully a rather larger antipodean brain had designed the Kathmandu thermal under-helmet layer that Al pulled on before braving the conditions once more. Jon looked on jealously has his ears got colder and colder - the temperature would drop below -4C before the end of the night. We had both worn the various layers we save only for the coldest of TCA outings: Neoprene gloves, Thermotech base layers, fleeces and windproof jackets... and long trousers for the first time this season - a sure sign that winter is upon us. We were thankful for every stitch as we hammered down the disused railway through the fallen leaves. It didn't take us long to reach the railway embankment. Jon wondered if he would ever crack this nut as he stalled about half-way up on both attempts.

Al Tames the Railway Embankment

With the taste of line cleaner still fresh in our memories as we climbed through the Forest of Bere we decided on a small modification to our usual route in search of an alternative to the Traveler's: Continuing down the road, towards Soberton Heath rather than the descent through the southerly part of the wood towards Newtown, we turned towards a pub that does not seem to have been documented in post-blog times, The Forest of Bere. Unfortunately the rather cosy lounge bar we usually frequent was crowded with people so we joined the Chavs in the public bar, Matt would have loved it we thought. Enjoying our pints of Crop Circle from the Hop Back Brewery sat at the bar it was soon time to remount, just as our toes were defrosting. We spied two other cyclists on our way out but paid them and their puny road bikes little attention. Our route home was to take us towards Soberton and back over the hill to Hambledon to record 14.5 miles for the evening as the temperature plumbed new depths.

Jimmy had had his Calpol by the time we got home and slept soundly at last while we enjoyed our beef stew with mash and afters of home-made apple crumble and custard. Entertainment was provided in the form of 'I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here!' - tonight's stew certainly looked more appetizing than the witchetty grubs. Warm at last.

Route Map (Click to Enlarge):

Elevation Profile:

(Posted by: Al)