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To TA East Members & Friends

From Ferg Muir


Please find attached the full details of the TA EAST SPRING WEEKEND provided by Mike Keen.


In addition to those who make a weekend of it, this is also a good opportunity for our Herts and Essex members to come along for lunch on either Saturday or Sunday – but please warn Mike of your impending arrival, even if it has to be at the last minute.



As I hoped, publishing Len Lawson’s piece about “a bad leg” without comment has elicited a reply, in this case from Dave Stokes, that Pete Cudmore definitely had two very good legs!

Dave has lived in Scotland for many years but in the sixties was an Essex tricyclist alongside Pete. Here is his note:



I knew Pete Cudmore well in the ’60s and remember him getting a good spread in “The Comic.” He certainly wasn’t disabled in any way and was able to produce 65 minute 25s on agricultural courses and was proficient at all distances up to 12 hours, if I remember correctly. I lost contact with him at the end of the decade, something to do with the woman to whom I’m still married. Pete was a good bloke and I’m sorry to hear of his passing.
There were, however, three bike riders who rode on the 32nd milestone course week after week and were doing well to beat three hours: one appeared to have what we have to call learning difficulties though I could be misjudging him; one appeared to be handicapped by age, as I am now, and the third answers the description given by Len Lawson. I can no longer recall their names.
Dave Stokes


I (Ferg) certainly remember that when riding my first ever 12 Hour in 1966 I started very steadily, conscious of what lay ahead. I was passed by competitor after competitor. It was as planned, but also slightly depressing. I was considerably cheered when out of the mist ahead I could see another rider whom I was very slowly reeling in. Somewhere near the Elveden Memorial on the A11 I caught him.

To be somewhat deflated to see that he had only one working leg, the other resting on a swinging crank, just as Len describes. It certainly wasn’t Pete Cudmore.- I see Pete did 218 miles on trike in that event- that’s 10 miles more than me – and I was on a bike.



Since I have the result sheet out, I might as well add that the other trikes finishing that 1966 West Suffolk Whs & TA East 12 hour of 50 years ago  were Dave Huffey (Colchester Rovers) 192 miles, Ivan Ridgewell (Colchester Rovers) 200, Dave Stokes (Viking RC) 216, Dick Drury (Chelmer CC) 225 – and fastest of all, Adrian Perkin (Godric CC) 232.




So if you are willing to lead a TA East Run during the period mid April to the end of July 2016, please get in contact with me in the next few days…..

Ferg Muir 01603 615000, 15 Calvert Street Norwich NR3 1BY





I needed a few miles and decided to check out the little carved cycling memorial to our former member and my friend, Bill Hutchinson of Swaffham. I particularly wanted to see how it had survived the winter – during the previous one it had been broken..


Several domestic jobs intervened and it was later than I intended when I thumped my Phillips/Holdsworth conversion up the Watton road.


I was glad to find the gates open and swept into the Colney Woodland Burial Park. I looked around for a notice about closing time, but there was nothing,so I rolled quietly on the trike down the track though the tall pine trees.


After a short search I found the wooded promontory where Bills ashes are buried – only a couple of yards from those of former RTTC 12 Hour Champion Zak Carr.


The little memorial was fine; there were fresh flowers.   It was a peaceful, atmospheric spot under the great pines that moaned in the wind. There plenty of light even under the trees and I suppose I rather got carried away trying to get the best shot of both Bill’s and Zak’s memorials.


I looked at my watch – it was 5 o’clock so I quietly made my way to the exit.

There it was indeed very quiet. The gates were padlocked and there was absolutely no one about.


There was a light on in the admin buildings so I investigated. It proved to be in the toilets and probably left on by mistake. Amongst the public information on display there was no mention of what to do if locked in.


I explored the perimeter fence. It was very substantial, of wire netting, iron posts and between five and six feet high.


The fence went on and on. No doubt intended to very effectively keep citizens of Norwich with vandalistic, or indeed spiritualistic, dispositions firmly OUT.


I found a gate with a number code. Meddled with it for ages trying likely codes.

No luck.

I got as far as strapping one of the trike back wheels to the fence, with a view to steadying it while I used the saddle as a stool to help me over the fence. But thought better of it.


Daylight was now fading fast. The moaning in the trees seemed to increase. The distant roar of traffic on the A47 dual carriageway rose to a rush-hour peak – Zak Carr, fast-course specialist that he was, should certainly feel at home here. But I had no wish to spend a winter night with his earthly remains. Nor even with Bill’s.


I detached my saddlebag and abandoned the trike where it was. I’ve owned the frame for 63 years, but if it was to disappear in the woodland burial it would at least make a good story to tell.


So I set out on foot to explore the farthest extent of the estate. Down a precipitous drop to an open lakeside. I tried walking east and encountered no fence. So I re-entered the wood. Thought of going back for the trike – but the slope was so steep I would never have dragged it up. I carried on, deep into the dark wood – and came up against the fence of someone’s back garden.


The only guide to the compass was the sound of traffic on the A47. I re-assessed direction plunged again through the trees – and found the outside of the burial ground fence, with a bit of a track which I followed …and with huge relief found only a ragged barbed wire fence to climb though and I was free.


Then there was just a little matter of a walk to the outskirts of Norwich against the rush-hour traffic on a narrow B-road – I held in my off-side hand my fluorescent waterproof trousers – so mocked at the 2015 Bruce Kingsford 50 – but a life-saver now. I found a bus – never has a bus seemed so cosy – and got home.


Early next morning I plotted a combination of two buses that got me to the gates of the Woodland Burial at a quiet 9.40am. There, outside the gates, and to one side, was a notice about closing times.


Carefully dressed as an inconspicuous old gentleman, I walked in. At first I couldn’t find the trike. But – as I hoped – no one else had either. I hauled it out of the undergrowth, got on and rode out of the gates to a chorus of birdsong.


Pausing only to put on a high-viz marshalling waistcoat, I freewheeled down the hill and back into normal life.




So coming up we have:

March 19-21 Spring Weekend – contact Mike Keen -details attached

April 3rd          Bressingham 25 – contact Mike Madgett -details in East E-NEWS dated 5th March. Entries close Tues 22nd March

April 16          TA EAST Meet – Little Braxted and Maldon – details in 5th March Edition.


Best Wishes to you All

Fergus Muir 01603 615000,

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