I woke up early this morning, I suppose it was excitement at the thought of a Sunday bike ride. As you know I don't usually do the Sunday rides but today it was an away day and I really like away days. Having spent five long hours on the road home from Anglesey yesterday I really felt in need of physical exercise.

Now when I say I woke up early I mean 5.00am so I reckoned I had time to get down to the sea front and try to catch the sunrise. I chucked my camera bag in the boot and set off only to do an immediate circle back to the house once I realised that I was wearing my reading glasses. With the world back in focus again I set off and on reaching the sea front I saw a lovely nicotine coloured glow over Port Talbot and wondered if John Cardy had taken up smoking. There was about twenty minutes before the sun came up so I was cutting it fine. I parked and walked up the front looking for a suitable image and set up my tripod, attached the camera and started the process of framing three boats against the glowing sky. From somewhere towards the slipway a voice broke the silence - it was a fisherman proclaiming that it was a beautiful morning and, as if that wasn't enough he opined that it was also a beautiful day. Further he wanted the world to know that he had a wonderful feeling at which point I thought he might be wise to stem this flow of information but I think all this must have been prompted by the landing of a small flounder because all he seemed to want to tell us was that everything was going his way.

I took my shot and wandered on up towards Verdi's and the slipway where there was a good crowd of fishermen all hoping for a tasty breakast. I adopted a contemplative lean on the railings and was staring at a trimaran anchored nearby when it occurred to me that this vessel, though not of any artistic value, would actually match up with a good caption.. For those of you who think that photography is merely a case of pressing a button let me assure you that this is not so. Sometimes you can have a good image and then take weeks or months to come up with a suitable caption. When the caption comes first you just can't let it go - the result you can see below.

If nothing else had happened today I would have been totally happy, I had witnessed 45 minutes of a changing sky, I had seen the day start and had two images as a reminder. I fought hard, dear reader, not to reiterate the fisherman's proclamation in an audible fashion. Nevertheless, I was in total agreement.

Back to the house then for a cup of coffee and a read of yesterday's paper. So much done already and yet so many people still in bed. Such a lot of the day lay ahead.

So now we get to the ride. The meeting place was the Smithy at Blackmill, an oft used cafe. As it was open we refreshed ourselves and Martin set about persuading an unsuspecting cyclist, who had arrived there just before us, to join us on our ride. Before long the eight of us set off up the cycle track to climb The Bwlch. The Bwlch is a long drag but at the top you are rewarded with a Bird's eye view of Treorchy, a refreshing breeze and a great deal of smug satisfaction.

And that is where three of us, Professor Phil Jones, Lennie (The Lost) Griffiths and myself (I have no nickname), find ourselves in conversation.

Professor Phil is telling us about the time when he was in Uganda where he was retained by President Idi Amin as an outrider for the presidential Jeep. The main duty was to provide the president with a path clear of peasants, for presidents are unhappy with delays. To facilitate this task the Professor was authorised to slash any obstructing peasant with the presidential feather boa. "They soon moved." he assured us.

Lennie turns to me and asks.

"Bob, were you any good at school?"

"I was a wizz kid." I replied, anxious to make an impression.

Sadly if he was impressed he did not display it and revealed -

"I was never any good at school, I couldn't do my two-times table but I could sing the tune. They put me in the choir."

"That would have been before your voice broke." I said.

"Yes," he said "I was rather a good treble."

Fortunately at that point Martin announced that it was time to go. Jan was now in her element and crouched down on her handlebars in the search for more speed on the descent. Apparently she had spotted that a rider was ahead of her so set about to shorten the gap. On reaching the junction she realised with a small degree of horror that she had been following Lennie "the lost" Griffiths.

"Left or right here?" he asks.

Wisely Jan advises him that perhaps he ought to wait for the others.

"Suppose so," he admits "hadn't thought of that, perhaps that's why I get lost then."

"Perhaps." Jan agreed.

We reach the cafe in Treorchy and in doing so step back about 50 years, red leather-look bench seats and fixed formica-topped tables with shelves of sweets in jars. The prices seem to be from the past too. It always seems to be difficult to raise oneself from the table after the lunch stop but after Martin had bought a bag of sherbert lemons and some mint imperials, Gareth had bought a bag of pear drops and Jan had bought a bag of lime and chocolate sweets we really did have to leave.

Not a long ride - just 24 miles but a good taxing climb before the lunch stop and some vigorous climbs afterwards made it a really enjoyable day with the added bonus of a new rider.

We look forward to seeing Gareth again on our rides.

And that's that so, as The Two Ronnies used to say - "Its goodbye from me." "and its goodbye from him."

"Hymn," says Lennie "hymn, I know a hymn, it goes to the tune of the two times table. Do you want me to sing it to you?"

Shall I tell him, or will you?

Happy pedalling

Lew Spokes

For the complete Wednesday and Sunday rides programme click on the link at the top of this page, or if that is too much trouble then click here.

No Caption

A Tender Behind!