Well, I have been proper poorly since the last ride and I had already decided beforehand that I would give this ride a miss. Although I was feeling an awful lot better (thank you for asking!) I just didn’t have enough strength in my legs to push a pedal.

I had gone in the car to the Railway Inn, Killay just to say hello and to make my excuses. Numbers were greatly diminished – only seven. Trevor was apparently not well and Des was out collecting the tags from the Audax route which was, unfortunately, cancelled last Sunday. Des had been trying to contact Colin to tell him to get everyone on their way but it seems he had been trying to phone Colin’s old mobile number. The message eventually arrived via Ken Bowden who had turned up in his slippers (and his car, of course).

So off we all went, the group to Pennard via Welsh Moor, me back home and Ken back in his car and slippers to luxuriate with his paper in front of a warm fire.

Bless, bliss!

But although Ken seemed very relaxed and laid back as he headed for his peace and tranquillity I could see that, like me, he was mildly troubled.

You see, the group was leaderless!

I was very concerned all morning, Welsh moor can be very tricky this time of year and someone has to keep Colin in check. Would we ever see them again? They do say ‘cometh the day, cometh the man’. Perhaps it will be true today.

I did hope so!

As lunch time approached and with my concerns still festering I decided I just had to go along to the lunch stop at Pennard just in case a rescue mission had to be organised. Normally they would be there by 12.30 but there was no sign of them. Oh dear!

I had parked my car in the car park where I would have a good view of the café (well, there’s no point in worrying in discomfort!) when this silver-grey car glided regally into the space to my left. The driver turned off his engine, checked the handbrake and wrote a few notes in what appeared to be a log book of sorts. Then his hand reached for the door handle. The door opened, his legs swung out, he stood up and promptly disappeared from view.

This was a very tall man indeed!

I slid my window down and shouted. “Get in Trev!!” For it was indeed he.

“Hello Lou,” he said as he slid the passenger seat back as far as it could go, sat down and expertly folded his legs in front of him. There he sat with his head bowed as if in reverence.

“I was very worried about the group, they’re leaderless this morning.” He said.

“Me too!” I said.

“I passed Ursula and Chris by the school but there was no sign of the others” he said.

“Oh gosh” I said in a worried fashion. “That means that the men will be on their own. How will they manage?”

“Quite” said Trev “well, we’ll just have to wait and see.”

So we waited.

“Does this roof come off at all?” said Trev, gently rubbing a crick in his neck, "this isn’t a convertible by any chance?”

The girls appeared at the café before I could reply so Trev started on his extrication procedure – sheer poetry in motion!

“Hi Ursula, hi Chris” we said in unison.

“Hi boys!” they said as if we were mere striplings.

Then Ken arrived on his bike.

“I was very worried about the group, they’re leaderless” he said

“Me too!” Trev and I said in unison.

It turned out that John Bastion was the man who had come to the fore on this day and had had a plan in his mind of a route to end all routes. But confident girls don’t need to prove themselves so Ursula and Chris had chosen a more direct route.

A man in green oilskins approached and took off his helmet to reveal a beaming face. As one we all quietly thought. “I know this man, wasn’t he an old friend?”

“What do you mean old?” said Bob Smith, for it was indeed he. “Don’t forget I can read minds.”

My mind went back about eighteen months to when I first started riding with the group. In those days there only seemed to be seven out at any one time but never the same seven. However there did seem to be a permanent nucleus of three – Trev, Colin and Bob Smith. As the weeks went by and I gradually got to know everyone these three kept reminding me of ‘Last of the Summer Wine’. The three main characters were there present in these three fellow riders and I couldn’t help breaking into a little grin every now and then. I didn’t realise this at the time but Bob Smith was such a loyal rider that he won the shield for the most regular rider of that year and I had the honour of being the official photographer at the presentation. Coincidentally that took place at Pennard just about a year ago.

And here’s a reminder of that time

Ah nostalgia – who said it was a thing of the past?

Anyway back to the present and look sharp because Trev is on the move!

“Scuse me, scuse me,” he was saying as he jostled his way to the front of the queue, “man here needs to be fed!”

And so it was that we three sickies sat together and had our lunch while the rest of the group, when they eventually arrived, sat outside in the warm February sun.

The next thing, I expect, they will be insisting that we all carry hand bells!

We were admitted back into the fold eventually and I learned that John had taken the group across Welsh Moor, through Cheriton, up the steep hill opposite the Britannia Inn, through Burry Green to Scurlage, through Horton, Penrice, Park Mill and up Sandy Lane to Southgate and Pennard.

That was quite a ride and I really think John should be awarded a BLOMIT medal (Born Leader of Men in Training) for his efforts. Another of our crowd (who mercifully does not need to be mentioned in this report) is the current holder of the BLOM medal. This unmentioned person had better look sharp or his elevated status may be short lived.

And here follows an interview with John Bastion BLOMIT.

LS “Hi JB, tough ride today – you certainly put the lads through their paces.”

JB “Yeah sure LS. It was tough but I have been dreaming of having a BLOM for quite a time and I felt today I could really show the promotions board what I am made of.”

LS “And what are you made of JB?”

JB “Well LS, that has to be slugs and snails and puppy dog tails of course but, seriously I have to thank the lads because they were behind me 100% completely and all the time.”

LS “Yeah but you did let them catch up with you every now and then.”

JB “Oh yeah LS. I quickly learned that a leader is no good without his team and it’s importantly essential that all of us stick together and aim for one goal, although I know this isn’t football and, if it was, one goal would hardly be enough. No, no the lads did good. It was a really steep learning curve for me and a really steep climbing curve for them.”

LS “Yes quite. So were there any thoughts going through your mind during the ride JB?”

JB “Well yeah as it happens LS, I must say I was rather glad you weren’t on the ride because I was sure you would have had something to say about my routes.”

LS “I didn’t know you dyed your hair JB.”

I left him patting his golden locks and rejoined the others at the table. Trevor arrives and pulls up the chair next to me. Slowly he folds himself into a seated position – at 7 foot 3 this man really is tall. He absentmindedly taps his gloves on his knee and I can’t help noticing that he has worn holes in the fingers. Not only is this man too tall for his own good his fingers are, it seems, too tall for his gloves.

A man approaches with two young lads in tow. Trev sees that the man looks weary and says.

“Hello Don, how are things? You look a bit tired.”

(Don is a member of the Easy Riders cycle group that ride on a Sunday.)

“Hello Trev,” says Don “yes we had a difficult ride on Sunday. One of your lot turned up, I can’t remember his name but he was like a pied piper and took us up the hill at Baglan, past where he lives and over into the Afan Valley. At the lunch stop he told us he quite regularly does Baglan to Birmingham before breakfast. He was awesome, just wish I could remember his name.”

We know who he was but he’s not getting a mention this week.

So there!

My Away Day next week – St Clears to Crymych. Be there please or face the consequences – remember the pen is mightier than the sword!

Lew Spokes

PS Sorry this is a short report but, after all I wasn’t on the ride.