The Hornet, needs a new back tyre and I'm not sure how long the wrist will cope that well with a clutch over several hours, so I jumped on my 125 step through - no clutch - and I was off.
Its actually a great exploring bike as it will go anywhere and its light enough to pick up, turn around or drag out of stuff should I need to......and its easy to ride up steps and squeeze into parking places that other bikes won't fit in to.
I had to find my gear before I could go anywhere though......its been redundant and in a cupboard
for three months.
Nipped up over Farthing Down, just south of Coulsdon. This is City of London land, and preserved as open spaces. Its nice and there are freely wandering cattle up there - the shaggy sort with horns and long tails - but none were around today.
Then I went up to Alderstead Heath in the hills at the top of the M23. There are some scrabby woods up there - easily accessible on a small light bike - which was a secret food dump during WW2. Its all over grown now, but concrete roads are still evident, as are bits of building and curious bits of vehicle, all left to rot and be taken over by nature.
These hills formed one side of the flight corridor that went from the Old Croydon Airport down across the Weald of Kent to the south coast in the days when aircraft were propeller not jet driven, and so flew slower and lower. Its a bit of a mist pocket there in the autumn and winter and I came across this little memorial while I was poking about in the woods.
From Coulsdon, I decided to ride down the A23 to Brighton. It was very cold and blustery by now, so I was glad that I had managed to find all of my gear. There is something really mesmerising about the English seaside in winter. I'm not sure what but perhaps its that wild and defiant notion that gives attempts to colonise and control the shore a hard time. the wind was blowing hard from shore to sea when I got to the front, making it hard to stand up. But down in the shelter of the massive promenade, a bloke was tight rope walking, and others were on the sea on surf boards with those paddles that look like giant spoons.
I sat in a hollow in the pebbles for a while, out of the wind and watching these people. there were just a few people about, but not many.
The West Pier burnt down a while back now, but the metal skeleton of the end bit is still clearly visible just off shore.
The old walkway that joined it to the prom has gone but the pillars remain, and look like they've been cleaned up to stay. They're a bit like the Pillars of Hercules, especially today when they looked like they were holding up rain heavy clouds.
I had some rhubarb crumble and custard plus some fat chips and tea in a nearby restaurant. Delicious, although the waiter did question me when I asked for all of it to be brought at once and not in courses as he thought it should arrive. Its food, I was hungry, and its good to mix it up. What is the problem?
The bike also squeezed into a tiny parking space just off the main road. To get it tree, I had to bounce it over rough stones and some grass, which would have been difficult with a heavier bike.
Then it was time to head home; the light was falling, it was raining and windy, so I took the M23. The bike, small as it is, copes very well on bigger roads, nipping along at about 50 mph, so it is not a problem in faster moving traffic, particularly as wear hi viz when I'm on such excursions, giving drivers plenty of chance to see me. It took me just about an hour to get home, not bad in poor weather and against the wind.
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