James Cairncross led this ride and writes:
Eight riders braved what felt like day 180 of winter storms, with 20mph winds forecast yet again for our ride to Turweston. Sod’s law dictated I’d devised a route going near-perfectly against the prevailing wind, so the first half was a slog but at least the roads were dry. Breaking into two groups at Gayton, I took the Brisks on an extra loop through the villages while Pete B took the Moderates more directly to the A5, where we briefly joined up again before splitting for the run south towards the café stop.
My Brisk group were delighted when we spotted the Moderates making the final turn towards Turweston (which autocorrect keeps changing to Turkestan) and we managed to catch them just before the entrance to the airfield. Thoughts turned to cake as we rode in formation for the final mile to the control tower, Chris and I recreating a classic scene from Topgun as we rode alongside an aircraft taking off. It Took Our Breath Away but not the wind, which was at its fiercest with no cover for miles. Arriving at the café we obeyed the signs and took our shoes off, thoroughly enjoying an unexpected heated-floor, and headed upstairs to enjoy the view and some well earned cake, although everyone was jealous of Pete B’s soup and Pete S’ bread and butter pudding (and Brian’s spotted-dick/ cake hybrid?) This café gets very busy at lunchtime but little in the way of passing trade, so at 11:30 we mostly had the place to ourselves apart from another group of riders from the Treads club, who I noticed got a telling-off for entering fully-shod.
Heading off south towards Stowe, we passed the magnificent entrance gateway and then turned towards Silverstone in anticipation of a tailwind, which would soon come our way as we took the little-used road parallel with the A43 to the outskirts of Towcester . Here we took Bessie’s lane up to the A5, this ancient track grudging retained by the developers of the sprawling new Grange estate, but popping us out with more great views of gates, this time the old Easton Neston entranceway. From here it was a simple wind-assisted blast back to Northampton.