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Ninder's First Club Ride

My First Club Ride - Ninder B, Saturday 30 August 2003

Let’s get one thing straight – I am not a cycle groupie. I mean, I’m not an anything groupie, but certainly not a cycle groupie. So why was I beginning to feel like one? Hillingdon, ACC Social, Herne Hill track, – I was always there but always on the sidelines – a civvy amongst cyclists. And as they say in AA (that’s Addicts, not Automobiles – although I don’t belong to either) there’s only so long you can stand in the barber’s without getting a haircut. So last Saturday, with nervous knocking knees (mine) and crumpled club top (boyfriend’s), I finally got on my bike.

9am at Coulsdon South. Probably the newest, and certainly the most creased person at my inaugural ACC ride. There was a small matter of photos for Cycling Plus – I felt a bit like a fraud as I stood at the front, grinning for all my worth like a seasoned Agreeable. But my ego (and encouragement from other ACC members) edged me forward, so there I was squinting into the sun and then posing with the ladies in the cycling equivalent of the swimsuit round – with bikes rather than bikinis. I was all ready to tell the compere about my desire to work with children and travel the world when the niceties were abruptly over. Everyone was on their bikes, revving up and clicking in cleats as they set off – at some speed. Suddenly my crumpled top was very low on my list of concerns. Knees knocking harder now, talking gently to my bike telling it - aka me - not be intimidated by the 7ft giant who’d just whizzed by at 60 mph (well that’s what Monty looked like at the time).

Five months ago, the only 9 o clock I saw on a weekend wasn’t during daylight hours. If someone – anyone – had told me that by the end of summer, I’d be cycling 50 miles on a Saturday morning in Surrey, I’d have smiled politely and edged away from the barking mad fool.

But as the sun came out and we peeled off into the Surrey lanes, following Phil Nash (Our Benevolent Leader), I was smiling again. This was beautiful! Magnificent! Awesome! Erm, and aching now… Where’s the caff? I was a touch confused. Every time we got to a sign for Charlwood, we’d cycle the opposite way. Isn’t the ride 45 kilometres total? “No no,” laughed Wendy “It’s 45 miles. Who told you 45km?” Oh, only the boyfriend. He’s the one in front. With the ironed top…

Then there was the junction… “Oh back there,” said Phil Nash, as we cycled away from it, “yes, you could have gone that way and saved yourself 5miles, but why would you want to do that?” I was scuppered – in foreign territory with everyone determined to get to Charlwood via Aberystwyth. There was no option but to follow. The group spirit was happy and high, and a few pictureseque lanes later, we were pulling up at a pine furniture shop which was somehow housing about fifty Addiscombe riders out the back. But just as I settled into the sun, astonished that we’d averaged 15mph, we were off again. Deep breath, knees not so trembly now. In fact, really rather enjoying it.

The ride back was an altogether different experience. No more Mr Nice Guy, now Phil Nash hurtled by in a mass including those who incredibly, were chatting about their week while speeding along at about double my pace. I have to admit, this rather appealed to my competitive streak and off I went, straining to keep a yellow jersey in sight and just about managing to come into the temporary stop at Redhill a couple of minutes after Marco. From there, Coulsdon South was just a painful drag of a dual carriageway away, but I got there – although I managed to lose everyone in front and behind me – where did you all go?

Back at GB’s and now even the photographer’s motor bike rider was telling me I’d washed my kit on a too hot cycle. But I’d done it! Double the distance I ’ve ever ridden in a day. There was just an emergency rescue ride back to Coulsdon South to provide inner tube for punctured boyfriend, and that was my unforgettable, fantastic first ride.

I’d heard lots about ACC and in the last few months have had the pleasure of meeting many of you but this was my first real meeting and the support and encouragement I got was fabulous. I look forward to my next ride and I promise, by the next photo shoot I may have the same crumpled boyfriend, but I’ll definitely have a new, ironed top.

Agreeably

Ninder B.