Here in the depths of darkest Tickton the resident silverback stirs and looks out over the canopy of mist before plunging a finger into his mouth and raising it in the air. “It’s wet” he declares “Are we still up for foraging out to the east?” One by one the local “troop” responded “Yes, we’ll be there”.
Gathering at Market Cross there was a lot of excited chatter while checking each others lights and mudguards. “Looks like we are all here except for…. Colin, he said he’ll catch up”. The troop set off swinging from traffic light to traffic light until reaching the Weel road eventually reaching Tickton where we found Chad “dragging his knuckles along the ground” patiently pedalling up and down waiting our arrival.
The troop then moved swiftly onwards to Routh before tackling the crossing towards Meaux. Luckily, one very kind driver stopped to let us all safely over the road. Following a well worn track we continued our journey towards Arnold where we came across a flooded section of road. After gingerly making our way through we arrived at Long Riston. “Oh where’s Chad? Is he lost in the mist?” Turned out he’d suffered a puncture and abandoned the ride to head home.
The remainder of the troop continued swinging our way through Great Hatfield and on to Mappleton. As we approached the seaside the mist had lifted somewhat with even a faint glimmer of sunshine trying to break through.
When the troop descended on our “foraging patch” (aka Floral Hall) we found Michael had already arrived ahead of us. Looking around at all the bikes. “Oh is it mudguards today?” he sheepishly asked. “Sorry I don’t have mine fitted. I hadn’t had time, I’ve got the ‘Spanish bug’, I just flu in last night”. Unfortunately for him such excuses got short shrift from the chairman as he held up his yellow glove as a makeshift ‘yellow card’. “One more and it’s a red card and you’ll have to miss two rides” declared Neil with a tongue in cheek admonition.
With bellies full and suitably refreshed it was time for the troop to return home. On departing Hornsea we followed the road to Bewholme.
On leaving Bewholme, Colin, “roaring and beating on his chest” took to the front and began to set a strong pace. Like greyhounds seeing the hare, we set chase. By the time we approached the junction of the Bridlington road a gap had opened up but nooooo, he’s not for stopping. Racing on through Brandesburton and Leven there was still no let up. Perhaps he’ll stop and wait to regroup on the cycle path. Nope, off we set again. Eventually on returning to Tickton we finally stopped to regroup. “I’ve set myself a target to burn 1000 calories each ride” he explained before adding “then I have earned a beer”. Thereafter we all made our way home after another enjoyable ride.