Good ride from the Moorcock last night. There was a magnificent seven of us in the fast group: Steve Hopper, Hackness Mike, Big Keith, Young Alistair, Plumber Dave (I think) and Lee (I think), and me. (Apologies if I've got any names wrong. I'm not very good with names and faces.)

Our start was delayed a bit as Mike wanted to go for a drive in his new car. After he'd been to green gate, he'd had enough and came back to the Moorcock.

Steve Hopper led us along the Blue Man, which was very muddy. We thought we'd lost Keith at one point, but he was just zip-tying his front light back on. Nobody got up the big climb without dabbing - not even nine stone Alistair. Too much wheelspin. Up on top around Crosscliff, we rode out towards Fylingdales. That was a bit boggy in places, but there was only heather to fall on if you got it wrong. And puddles. 

We met the social group coming up the the other way, which looked like a slog. Then it was just a fast spin back in the big ring (for those that had them – and a very fast spin if you didn't).

Me and Keith were both lagging a bit. Sometimes there's nothing in your legs. Mike's back was aching as he was out on his hardtail. Time for a short-travel XC bike, Mike, or a 29er hardtail? Or something made out of titanium like Steve's?

Quick drink in the Moorcock then home to hose down the bike. Nice one.