Wednesday 16th May 2018
Post date: 15-May-2018 08:10:37
John led Rob, Eric, Howard, Rob, David, Tricia, Pat, Clyde and Jeff along the way to Kegworth via Fox Hill and Sutton Bonnington. He had to leave us at Kegworth, to return early, to catch a train.
Eric's usual high standard report follows:- (How does he do it?)
The hardened crew, left John Catt taking photographs of us all, as we departed, like some yellow clad stalker.
We turned left at Kingston upon Soar. Less cosmopolitan than its namesake on the Thames but prettier and with a better class of cyclist passing through it. We were of course now led by Howard, who in spite of his lack of years he makes up with a boundless enthusiasm. An enthusiasm that would have been shared with his reluctant team if only he was not leading us into the teeth of a gale, only marginally less of a force than it was the last time he led us to this desolate destination. Find a wind ... ride into it s:eems to be his motto!
At Kegworth road we turned right and on to Ratcliffe on Soar. We did a left and a right down a small lane in Ratcliffe and came under the A453 (Remembrance way). This took us by the Soar and heading straight into the wind. Looming to the right was, what now looks the deserted, Ratcliffe power station. There is a certain brooding presence about it, and it is reminiscent of a set for a dystopian sci fi teen movie. However there were no Divergent Maze runners amongst us so we pedalled on furiously only disappointed that Graham was not with us to regale us with fun tales of the jolly japes that were had, when the power plant was fully functioning and he was a massively important cog in its consumption of fossil fuels, and the enabling of all our Christmas lights.
So on to Redhill Marina through the industrial estate. A lovely riverside location ... well it would be but for the series of broken down portacabins that serve as café/ toilet and calor gas supplier! However a cheery reception awaited us from the lady behind the counter. “no bacon, no sausage, no cobs before you ask” ... “well actually I only wanted a coffee” was the meek response from the first who dared open his mouth. And coffee it was, Morrisons finest own label instant, and nothing wrong with that I hear you cry. Well it wasn’t for a quid it has to be said. Some went for a square slab of sponge with a currant or 2 in it. Another quid. It was not Jade tea rooms, but then again neither were the prices! Rivalling only Birstall community centre for value, we only needed Marcus and his 1 pound pot of jam and we would have been away.
We huddled outside in the cold, for fear of being overcome by the fumes of burnt bacon inside (perhaps that’s what happened to it? We tried to ignore the sound of Trish’s teeth chattering and gripped warm Morrisons coffee close to us for the only heat source left in the area now the power station looks defunct.
We got going again if only to re find lost circulation. Back down the road to the A453 and up onto it and using its cycle lane we headed to Kegworth. In a short distance we ducked down onto long lane and into Kegworth via the Tradesmans' entrance. There was a haul back up the A 6 through Hathern and as we entered Loughborough up some cycle lanes after the Rugby club and onto the ring road. We split up as we reached the university and then again at Shelthorpe and made our own way back home for a hot bath and some real coffee.