One of the coldest starts to a day for a while, but Colin at Cutty Sark Gardens had managed to find a sunspot. We basked for a while then set off for the second meeting point at Ladywell Fields where we met Judith, John, Andy, and his son George who was apparently up for riding back as well. John and George had done the charity London to Brighton ride before.

We ambled down the Waterlink Way for a slow warm up through a succession of parks. I pointed out the small (very small) sign in the park just before Kent House station with the wonderful HG Wells quote (and apologies for any misquoting) "when I see an adult on a bicycle I have faith in the future of the human race".

OK I lied. The ride had been billed as "Brighton for smoothies" but just after Kent House station we had to negotiate the shingle and loose stones of the two short bits of unadopted road. Doubtless the residents think it marks them out as a cut above their tarmacced neighbours.

Through South Norwood Country Park, over the tram lines and then we followed London Cycle Network routes to Croydon, then down the main road to Purley.

If the group had contained any beginners we could have cut through the suburban housing at this point, at the price of some extra climbing, to miss the main road. But everyone seemed up for a run straight down the main road to Caterham.

After Caterham we hit the first hill (no way that I know of missing the North Downs) but it's not too long and we soon flew down the other side, where we took a sharp left to cross the path of the bouncy Sustrans route to Brighton which some of the more delicate bikes had endured on our June run.

We climbed to Bletchingley where we paused for a breather and for George to have a Snickers (almost showed my age by saying Marathon) - probably not recommended energy food but at 16 you can eat anything. The pause also gave me an opportunity to attach my new advanced German navigation aid to its patented fixing - my answer to Ian's satellite marvel. To some it looked suspiciously like a piece of Perspex with typed notes clipped under it.

A nice downhill followed and in fact this route is nicely rolling - short climbs, followed by descents. Nothing too bad. We resisted the charms of The Bell at Outwood - a nice pub and good beer but the food's a bit pricey and too "nice" for cyclists needs. We were after more simple filling stuff.

Past the Windmill at Outwood we continued on B roads, but they're pretty quiet, before starting the slow, then steeper climb to Turners Hill. At Crawley Down we crossed the Worth Way - route of our recent jaunt to Hastings.

We stopped for lunch just past Turners Hill at a pub which seemed to have won some sort of local restaurant award but we hit the bar menu - bangers and mash for a fiver, other straightforward food, and - like most of the pubs on this stretch - good beer. The pub was empty when we arrived and they were fine about us carrying our bikes through to the elevated beer garden, though we had to retreat inside later as it was still a bit cold.

After lunch we sped down to Ardingly, where we left the B roads to enjoy some quiet country lanes. Well eventually. George and John sped ahead, missed the turn, and flew down a hill. I peddled after them, trusting that they'd stop after a while to let the others catch up. They did, but as I approached them, I had horrible visions of them flying off again. Luckily frantic arm waving convinced them that something was wrong. We climbed back up two hills to rejoin the others who were resting in the sun.

George noticeably held back a bit after this.

We rolled on through more lanes on a scenic but slightly perverse route that appeared to make Andy suspicious that we still weren't seeing any signs to Brighton. Probably signage scheme to keep drivers off the small roads - and they were all the better for it. Eventually the South Downs came in view, we skirted the hill along the bottom before turning left for the bottom of Ditchling Beacon, where John had a stationary clip-mishap and fell off.

Then the long drag up Ditchling Beacon. George attacked it with relish and I just plodded. Four of us made it without getting off. Andy may have fatally undermined his psychological preparation by bringing along a rather fetching pair of casual shoes/slippers for the express purpose of walking up.

The hill's not too bad I think if you just get in the lowest possible gear at the beginning and gradually turn the pedals. Unless you're really fit, avoid the temptation to "attack" it which runs the risk of running out of steam. Oh, and be prepared to ignore the initial opening of the view to your left which makes the summit appear imminent. Just plod on and you'll get there. Next year, we'll all get up.

We rested a while before a long fast descent, broken only by a very short gradual climb after we crossed the A27. Then it really is all downhill into Brighton, spoiled only by traffic light phasing which seems to guarantee a stop at every light. Time to phase urban lights for cyclists I think.

We hit the Prom at the Pier to find it packed as people enjoyed the last of the summer. Then to the Honey Bar by the beach - overpriced beer but for a trendy bar surprisingly cycle-friendly as on previous visits we've seen them allow cyclists into its industrial interior complete with bikes. We'd made such good time that we were ten minutes too early for their happy hour, but what the hell, the surprisingly warm sun was out and we settled into a nice sun spot for a couple of beers.

Not a bad bar actually, though some of the tables were slightly dirty after a day's drinking. The innocent folk on the table next to us asked if their table could possibly be given a quick wipe and were met with "you takin' the piss?" from the vision-in-black maitre d/bouncer or whatever who clearly fancied himself. He wore an earpiece. Not sure why. Deaf to the customers?
Hard-wired to an ipod whispering "you are a living god, you are too good for this job, these people do not deserve to let their gaze fall upon you"?

And some curious signs in the gents. Had to make a trip back to make sure I hadn't wandered into the ladies by mistake.

Beware

Who's got your drink?
Who's got your phone?
Who's got your bag?

We all got away safely - Andy and George had skipped back after the first drink because of family commitments. Four of us headed for the station and with a 4-for-2 deal managed to get ourselves back to London on a fast train for £6.50 each.

62 miles altogether. A ride to repeat next year I think, though I intend to finesse it a bit to include some more small lanes.

Thanks to everyone who came along for their company - hope to see you all on some future Lewisham Cyclists rides.

Paul