RSF - The Off Road Cycling Club

The Adventure Starts Here

1979

"I had been familiar with that street for years, and had supposed it was dead level: But it was not, as the bicycle now informed me to my surprise." — Mark Twain, author and humorist who could fall off a bicycle in many different ways

 

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So we puffed along the old light-railway track bed, used in building the dam, which connected at Shap with the L.N.W.R. Stopping at the 1304 ft. A6 summit for a roadside snack we were told we . . . “deserved a medal if you rode up here in this stuff”. We had ridden it.
Here John went for a dip. It must have been to celebrate his birthday, for that was the suit he was wearing and John is always correctly dressed.
“Road closed. No through Road” were signs that assured us cyclists of secluded progress along the water’s edge by the old mill pond of White Farm, and brought us to Port Bridge.
A track skirting the north of Great Tew Park looked attractive—it starts by the side of the pub—and passes several ruined cottages before coming to a gate. No problem except that the gate bore the legend “Beware Bull”. Now it is well-known that unwanted visitors can be deterred by the use of such subterfuges—“Beware Adders” is another, but it always raises doubts in the mind of the reader.
I had a few evenings previously persuaded the landlady of the Sow and Pigs to provide suitable refreshment for us. This proved to be a real find, home-made soup with real meat in it, hot rolls with butter ad lib, followed by home-made cottage pie and beans—all for 75 pence!
As a final blow, we found the road blocked for a further mile by massive snow-drifts. However, these were overcome, and the final plunge down to Knock was made much more interesting by the absence of braking; however, 50 m.p.h. soon warmed the rims, and the Mafacs came to life.

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