Sometimes it’s not fun to be right. I had posted on fb that there was a 70% chance that it would rain today, and hence a 30% chance that I would be out on my bike; Won’t rain till 2pm, says Phil1; not till 1pm says the new charwoman. At precisely 8.52am, as Phil and I set out from Union Corner, the first drops were felt, but fortunately only enough to get us wet and it probably hadn’t rained on the rest of the Culture Club waiting at the other place. Paul was back from somewhere sunny and Andrew was back, from Mawnan Smith, and with Fred and Mike2 we made a total of 6. Not many, but many more than last week. Portreath was the chosen destination, with a trip out to the North Coast road on the way.
Things started to go wrong as we dropped down to the reservoir from Carnkie. The road was closed due to a motor bike accident so, at Fred’s suggestion, we traced out steps and turned right, to take the long way around via White Alice. Alas, just 3 of us had our listening ears on and my phone was soon ringing. “Where are you?”. We regrouped at the turn off to White Alice and due to the motorists with the same thought slowly made our way up and over and across to Penmarth. At Bolenowe another change of plan saw us carry on to Troon and down past Weal Edward, on our way to Miss Molly’s. Things were looking up again. Well, at least for 5 of us. Andrew looked down and saw that his front tyre was flat. Mike, without any prompting, offered to help him change the tube whilst the rest of us, not liking the sight of blood went inside to order.
With a total choice of seats we took the window table and even the Country & Western in the background couldn’t reduce the happiness we all felt. “Beautifull”, agreed the waitress.
The usual route back took us along the footpath to St Euny Church, passing two “wild” horses along the way that seemed more interested in eating than being in anyway “wild”. When Phil stopped to take a phone call at the other Carnkie four of us carried on, intending to wait at the Loscombe Rd, crossroads. As we waited, and waited, the heavens opened, with a hailstorm. Phil, of course, had taken shelter further down the road. The wet weather though had a strange effect on Andrews jacket. Instead of being a boring, drab grey, it had changed, chameleon like and was now multi-coloured. Almost as good as my Night Vision jacket from Evans Cycles, which comes in all sizes and 3 colours.
The rest of the trip was less eventful. Paul left us at Penhalvean, Fred at Halvasso turn, and Mike and Andrew at Argal Cross roads. 35 miles for me.
Dean