One would think, in view of Saturday’s, (March 3lst) persistent downpours that cycling, let alone cycle-camping, would be out of the question, but it was not so. Oh no! The Nelson section of the Cyclists’ Touring Club had the date fixed for their opening camp, and nothing short of a great flood was sufficient to damp their ardour in this direction. Apart from it raining, the only unusual happening on the journey to Malham took place near Gargrave, when "T.W.” had the dual surprise of coming down in the world a distance of thirteen inches, and also being beaten to…

The activities of the Nelson Section of the cyclists' Touring Club were many and varied during last week-end. On Saturday a social evening and supper was held in the Co-operative Rooms, Cumberland Street, where members and their friends, who had not been turned away at the door, were provided with first-class entertainment, most of the artistes having been commandeered from the ranks of the C.T.C. There were others, however, who, although non-members, were pleased to give their contributions to the evening programme. Miss Dixon, L.L.C.M., A.T.C.L., was at the piano, and tickled the ivories deftly, as she accompanied the vocal…

Leaden skies, dripping roofs, and rain swept roads; such were the conditions as we, the Nelson section of the Cyclists’ Touring Club, mustered under a friendly shelter at Higherford last Sunday morning. At 9-45 we grabbed our respective bicycles and started upon our journey to Catterick Force. A spirit of leisureliness seemed prevalent amongst us and we walked rather more than usual of Coldweather Hill. I for one, was quite satisfied with this state of affairs. since I was feeling none too fresh after the buffeting we received from the wind upon our journey to Burnsall the afternoon previous. The…

There are some mornings when you awaken from a sleep disturbed by torrential rain and the audible gyrations of dust-bin lids ending their none-too brief flights, and half expect to find the streets thronged with mariners, busily engaged in hauling their respective crafts back to the sea, from which they might have been swept during the night. Such a morning presented itself last Sunday, the day when members of the Nelson Section of the Cyclists’ Touring Club were intended to ride to Austwick for dinner, then afterwards either make the moorland crossing of Sulber Nick or go home again via…

The skies were weeping copiously as I glanced out of my bedroom window at the unearthlv hour of 7 o’clock on Sunday morning last. A gusty wind rattled the windows, and I thought what a good idea it would be to stay in bed a bit longer and go on the short run instead of the long one. Better still, why not stay in bed till dinner-time in the approved Sunday morning manner, instead of tearing about the countryside in the rain—more fools we . . . The unusual exertion of thinking must have sent me to sleep again, for…

What of Saturday’s run? That is the question I suspect a few interested readers ask themselves after perusing the usual C.T.C. failure, and finding only Sunday’s happenings related. Now, I think it only my duty to deal with such, considering the number of enjoyable and interesting rides that have taken place. For an example I will endeavour to give a pen-picture of last Saturday’s outing to Pendleton. "I love Pendle Hill, and from whatever side I view it-——whether from Whalley, where I see it from end to end, from it's lowest point to its highest; from Padiham, where 1t frowns…