We didn't have a route planned when we set out other than starting out heading south. As we headed out on tarmac He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named suggested a rough route to take in the bridleway underneath Twyford viaduct as we hadn't ridden that for ages. First we turned off Sandy Lane into Moscow Lane which has once again has had all it's nasty ruts filled in; except for about 10 yards at the start. However this 10 yards was chaos! Steve entered first, got his line wrong and the domino effect had us all chuntering at each other!

The banter quietened down as we began climbing up to Burrough on the Hill. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named set a fast pace with Ricky on his wheel. I was happy at my own pace mid-pack with Steve and Parsley behind. We had a brief breather at the top before riding through the village to descend the bridleway known as "The Fields of Pain" (when ridden the other way really - it's not bad as a descent!). The first couple of fields were pretty smooth and I kept up with the full suss in front but as soon as things got lumpier the ability of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to sit and pedal whilst I had to stand had him pulling away from me promptly. My lower legs were aching a lot by the bottom.

The bridleway under the viaduct is nothing special riding wise but the presence of the viaduct does make for some nice photo opportunities. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named got a head start to get one first and then after we passed under the arch I got in front for some photos. The bridleway across the field had some massive cracks in it's mud surface making it hard work to ride.

Having taken some pictures I caught up with Steve who had a puncture not far after he passed me. I helped swap the tube and then when we reached the field boundary we found the other three finishing fixing a puncture on Ricky's bike!

We continued on via Newbold and up the tough bridleway climb to Somerby before having to form a roadie style train to combat the headwind to the summit of Burrough Hill. On a previous ride's climb up the hill from the west He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had spotted what would be a potential little natural jump at the side of the trail if we were decending. We decided to give this a go. I struggled to remember exactly where it was and so hit it fairly slowly but the little kicker floated me very nicley over it. Good fun :-)

To get back we retraced our earlier outward route along Moscow Lane and Sandy Lane. Steve's tyre was slowly loosing air again but he managed to limp it home without a stop to pump. I had to head straight home too and was envious of the other three as I said my goodbyes as they pulled into the pub.