And so 11 awestruck riders headed towards Finchingfield and the promise of picture postcard views, light refreshment - or in some cases heavy refreshment - and hordes of car and coach bound tourists. They comprised: Sharon, Stephen, Richard, Chris, Peter Gay, Dale, Ron, Julian, Tony, and Justin.

We made our way to Clare by way of the usual Whepstead/Poslingfield road, where we were met by our pal Kevin Flanagan fresh back from camping in Sweden. Kevin had phoned earlier to secure a seat on our train, hoping it would be going in the general direction of his  Hundon home, bearing in mind the direction of the wind and all that. In the middle of Clare Dale turned left. Maybe the pace was telling on him or maybe he had family commitments? We then had a tour of the north Essex lanes courtesy of Kevin. He told me this was his south east wind route. And very picturesque it was too. The views alternated between summer and autumn, depending on whether the field was being combined or ploughed. This part of Essex is delightful. Not a white shoe or blond in sight - that is unless you count Stephen's curling locks cascading from under his King of the Mountains hat - they won't fit under his Rapha cap.

'Twas a thirsty, hungry bunch that rolled into the only cafe in the village (the one on the hill is closed). Finchingfield was looking its usual splendid self. Tony remarked that he had once painted the row of cottages on the other side of the duck pond. I wondered how many tins of paint were used? Refreshments were of a high standard. The homemade cakes looked so good that Stephen couldn't decide whether to have a slice of the lemon drizzle or baked beans on toast - so he had both. Sitting outside the cafe the temperature seemed to be climbing. What a contrast to last week where the drizzle certainly wasn't on the cake.

Cue time for us to do our own bit of climbing back over the rolling Essex hills. Kevin again showed us some interesting lanes, although some of them had just had the dreaded chippings thrown over them and were waiting for heavier traffic than us to roll them down. A back-wind blew us back to Kevin's country cottage, where he said his farewells. Onwards to the outskirts of Clare and a left turn to that oh so familiar Poslingford road. A little way down the road, Stephen and I realised we were the clubrun. Peter and Chris had been losing contact on the hills since early on in the ride and the rest of the group had hung back to wait. Eventually Sharon, Tony, Julian and Ron came up to say that Peter and Chris were suffering and Richard was waiting for them. As some of us had things to do that afternoon (I for one had an appointment in Bury for 3.30 and it was now about 1.30) Stephen, Sharon, Julian and I decided to press on, while Tony and Ron dropped back. To our surprise Tony, Ron and Richard later caught us up at the top of Stansfield hill. Richard then decided to wait for Chris and Peter while Ron and Tony carried on with us - Tony, no doubt, had almost enjoyed himself enough for one eight hour day on the bike (112 miles by the time he got home I think). The sun was getting hotter as we wound our way back to Thurston - arrival time 2.25 with 73 miles covered - and the last few miles dragged.

Special mention in dispatches to Julian, who following a very strong ride on Sunday maintained the form today, and Sharon, who after only a few Wednesday rides has come on in leaps and bounds and continues to impress with her ability to hang in there when the going gets tough. This attitude has gained a lot of respect and established her as one of the 'boys'. Quite a tough ride today. The heat and rolling roads combined with a 70 plus mileage proved testing. What you might call character building.

We all wish Tony a good ride on Sunday. Today's session should have been just what he needed to reach his peak of physical exhaustion. But we all know that after a couple of early nights and a twiddle on the turbo on Friday he will be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed come dawn on Sunday. Watch this space for his report on the ride. I hear Andy Wilkinson's just broken comp' record with a distance of 302 miles - just the target Tony needs!

Justin