Date: Tuesday 22nd February 2011
Route: WP, Cleabrook, Railway, Cann Wood, Wotter, Cornwood road, top side of clay pits, Cadover, HQ.
Riders: Colin, Paddy, Greg, Stephen, Keith & James.
Depart: 19:38
Arrive HQ: 22:15
Distance: 21 miles
Weather: Mild, but wet from 9:00pm.

The forecast wasn't set to be great so high numbers were not expected. Of those that did converse, there was the evidence of a ‘get out’ clause taking shape. Little did we realise the lengths Paddy would go to. Chain snapping, blah, blah. New chain, blah, blah. Slipping, blah, blah. A squire Horler put it: He didn’t have far to walk home and wouldn’t get lost (all of 200 yds). It was then that we realised why he had made a hasty exit. I was duly informed that Paddy had suggested the route for the evening's entertainment. No delightful single track here, no energetic drop-offs, no stop and admire the view with a corned-beef sandwich, flask of coffee and Bakewell tart.

Enough said.

An easy start down to the path to Clearbrook. Hit a right before the switchbacks to the railway tack and traversed along new terrain (for myself) before swinging left under some challenging ‘limbo’ branches (a track for the sub-17 inch frame dwellers me thinks). We emerged onto the railway a little closer to the tarmac start. A gentle ride to the bottom of Cann woods.

From there: Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead!
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect………………..Or: Uphill.

There was significant mud around the woods with the tree felling creating a post-apocalyptic landscape. This was exaggerated by the bonfires burning in the car park as we left. More uphill to Wotter, though by which route I am not exactly sure. Keith disappeared like a rat up a drainpipe and we all tagged along blindly. By this time the mizzle had started, and all were contemplating sou’westers. To the Cornwood road as far as the bottom end of the clay-pit bridlepath. Then some challenging riding; sorry for riding, read – walking. The gravel track to the top has taken a bit of beating this winter and use of the hike-a-bike method was used by all. The mizzle had turned to drizzle by now and we cycled like men possessed (with a desire for beer) down to Cadover. Stephen was rendered temporarily blind by the rain down to Gratton bridge but all-in-all no offs or near misses (although I faced the wrong way in the wind and pissed on my shoe). Thank heavens for overshoes!

Hell of a lot of hill. Great idea Paddy!

Reporter: Greg

President's Footnote: Paddy would be pleased to know that, in true GOWCC tradition, the remaining five showed no sympathy whatsoever towards his predicament as they sped off into the night......