Whittle down the wind

I don’t usually do Sunday ride reports, as you know, but, if I am going to progress in my new career as Blogger, then I need to increase the number of my followers. There was a young woman the other day who is a social influencer; that’s the proper name for someone who earns money from promoting items on their blogs or on facebook or Instagram. She has 250K followers and earns three times what she used to earn as a teaching assistant. Mind you, her selfies in the bathroom mirror were a little more appealing than mine would be. So, I thought, I need to get my own niche market, and I think I have cracked it. The Grey Pound, the silver surfers. There’s got to be a few around, even in the Wheelers. Well, I was sent a tube of haemorrhoid cream on Friday. I have sent the film off to Truprint and should have the photos back for a write up to go with the OGIL ride report next week.

 

But that’s enough about me. I suppose some of you will want to hear about Sunday’s club ride. Well, with the French trip on going, Paula finishing the LeJog and still lots away on holiday, it was a motley bunch at HQ this morning. 13, I think it was, and well past 9 o’clock when some one suggested the Blue Bar, at Porthtowan. You know the route better than me. Ben seemed to be struggling to keep up at Halvasso so made his excuses and went off on his own; Richard74 and Liz, were the next to fall beside the wayside and when we stopped at Simon’s house, en route, Theresa decided to go to visit her mother instead. Simon is at deaths door with a cold but managed to come to the gate to speak. Mystic Meg had suggested that it would rain at 11am and almost on the dot, as we dropped down the valley into Porthtowan, the rain started. I had ordered and was sitting around the table with Jim, Phil2 and Mike before I realised that Trevor, Raymondo and John had taken one look at the Blue bar menu and decamped to the café next door. The conversation was mainly about them so I’ll not repeat it here.

It was still raining when we left and the forecast blustery winds had arrived too. There used to be a pub called the 4 Winds; we met up with 3 of them today. You can guess which one had had a lie in. Whilst Trevor and Raymondo turned right, up Rose Hill and towards Porteath, the rest of us headed back up the valley to Scorrier, Treskerbys, Lanner, etc. Phil2 was the next to split, at Stithians, followed by John, at Longdowns; the morning ride being whittled down to just Mike and myself by the time we passed through Halvasso. With excellent timing we got back to Falmouth just as the rain ceased and the sun came out. 42 miles for me. Dean

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