Fierce sun and a gusting easterly backdropped the Clarionites fifth annual ‘Deal Or No Deal’ run at Thermidor’s zenith. Taking in 105 Kentish miles from Rotherhithe to the Cinque Port, more than a dozen riders passed hop fields, headlands and holidaymakers on their way to what was once England’s busiest logistics hub. Departing the Surrey Docks at seven, the progressive peddlers cleared Greenwich, Woolwich and Dartford as suburbanites slumbered. Sustaining a blistering pace, they were early for lunch at The Castle at Oare. Vessels berthed in the adjacent creek could be seen from the pub’s garden, but alas not so close for their sails to provide shade. Hereafter our route hugged the coast. At Seasalter’s muddy foreshore the waves were distant, but blustering Eurus was determined to impede progress. Whitstable’s trippers were no less obstructive. Cheering as might be the town’s renaissance, a seaside throng is no friend of a peloton. Reaching Minnis Bay’s pungent sands as the sun turned up the heat, a disruptive idea went about. ‘Why don’t we just run into the sea?' Had more riders stowed saddlebag swimmers, the motion might have carried. In the event, the interests of decency were observed and the Clarion pedalled on. At Herne Bay the club delivered a card to Andrew, on the event of his eightieth birthday. An initiate to the Burnley branch when he was 12, in 68 subsequent years his Clarion dedication was undimmed. He handed beers to the visiting celebrants, and offered a select few a glimpse at his most prized possessions. His garage full of ‘Hill Specials’ perhaps went over the heads of some partygoers. The cognoscenti, however, recognised these as among the finest lightweight frames of the post-war era, from the marque most closely associated with Clarion cause (Hill Special Bikes). “One of these bikes was ridden by Reg Harris” Andrew intoned. “Who is Reg Harris”, responded a nameless clubman. Perhaps a lantern-slide presentation on cycling history might usefully illuminate one of the darker winter nights? Onward we rode, admiring the dramatic fantasy that is Kingsgate Castle, at North Foreland, and enjoying, toll-free, the silk-smooth black top of the Sandwich Bay Estate. Following the coast, we turned with about 20 miles to go, and suddenly God’s hand was on our backs: the final furlongs were ridden as though with new blood. It was gone seven before we assembled, banner aloft, on the pier at Deal, sun-blushed, salty and enriched with a currency no banker can match. Forget Trump - this truly was, the art of the Deal.

Charlie Denny: London Clarion’s 1908 Olympic Silver Medallist On a rain-soaked Saturday in July 1908, a 22-year-old joiner from Battersea stood on the Olympic podium at White City Stadium. He had crashed in the heats. He had punctured in the final. He had finished the race on a borrowed bicycle he had never ridden before. And he had come within two bicycle lengths of the gold medal. His name was Charlie Denny, and he remains one of the most celebrated athletes in the long history of the Clarion cycling movement. A working man, not a professional Charles Albert Denny was born in Battersea on 17 March 1886 and was practically raised in the Clarion movement. His father helped found the South London Clarion Cycling Club in 1895 and Charlie joined as a boy. By his early twenties he had accumulated more than 62 race prizes and set multiple world records. But he was no professional. He had no wealthy patron. He worked as a joiner by day, studied at technical school in the evenings, and trained on the roads of South London after a full shift in the workshop. By his own admission, work stood first and cycling second. That work was no sideline either. In 1908 — his Olympic year — he won first prize from the Worshipful Company of Carpenters in a competition open to apprentices across the entire United Kingdom, having taken first prize for the best student’s work in the County of Surrey the year before. The 1908 London Olympics The 1908 Games were held at the newly built White City Stadium in Shepherd’s Bush, constructed in haste after Rome, the original host, was unable to proceed. The track cycling programme included a 100-kilometre paced race — roughly 62 miles — contested across two days: heats on Thursday 16 July, final on Saturday 18 July. Charlie’s Games nearly ended before they began. He was brought down in an accident during the Thursday heats — yet still qualified for the final as the leader for the greatest number of laps. The final was run in a downpour. The great Welsh rider Arthur Meredith, widely considered the finest paced cyclist in the world, was expected to dominate. But for mile after mile it was Denny who led the field. Then Meredith punctured, lost a lap he could not recover, and retired. The race was opening up. Charlie’s own crisis followed. Covered head to foot in mud and looking the possible winner, he punctured too. Nothing daunted, he grabbed a spare machine — a bicycle strange to him — and, despite being a third of a lap down, put on a wonderful effort and caught the entire field. When the bell rang, it was England against France. Denny cut out a fast pace, built a big lead, and looked every inch the winner — until his compatriot Charles Bartlett sprinted past to beat him by two cycle lengths. Lapize of France took third. The time: 2 hours, 41 minutes, 48⅗ seconds. The Clarion newspaper of 24 July 1908 recorded the moment with pride: “The honour of the Clarion Clubs has been well maintained by Charles A. Denny, of the South London Clarion C.C., who, on Saturday, finished second in the 100 kilometres race. We of the Clarion Club offer him our congratulations, and feel proud to count such a fine athlete amongst our members. The small silver medal is more to Charlie than all his previous successes. Bravo! Well done, Charlie.” The records kept coming The silver medal was a peak, not an ending. Later that same year at Herne Hill, Charlie took the 13, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 and 21 mile world records in a paced hour race — with only two pacing tandems to his name, while a rival in the same race had twenty-one. His 20-mile British standing start paced record, set at Herne Hill in 1908 at 38 minutes 56⅖ seconds, stood until at least 1924. In 1910 he won the NCU 50-mile Championship at Coventry despite puncturing three times and suffering a nasty fall after 23 miles, remounting each time to win a sprint finish by half a wheel. In 1911 he set a new world 20-mile paced record. And in a final flourish, still racing past the age of 50, he won the Veterans Trophy at the Meeting of Champions at Herne Hill in 1936. Fellowship is Life Charlie Denny embodied everything the Clarion movement stood for: self-improvement, hard work, fellowship, and the belief that working people could achieve anything they set their minds to. By 1912 he was Captain of the South London Clarion, and that year the club advertised itself in the Daily Herald as “the ideal club for cyclists, either sex, who desire enjoyable rides combined with intellectual companionship and good fellowship.” The Clarion, then as now, was for everyone. Charlie lived to 84 — proof of a life fully lived on two wheels. More than a century on, London Clarion Cycle Club still rides almost every week in the same spirit. You can read more about Charlie Denny, explore our history from 1895 to the present, or join us for a ride.

Every cyclist has a ride that's difficult to explain. In this case it was a tour of East London pumping stations. As we departed someone warned that the ride was going to be full of shit. Leaving South-East London (where we had diverted to see an ancient mulberry tree and a church associated with Christopher Marlow) we crossed the Thames and headed north into one of the capital's most fascinating engineered landscapes. Canals, reservoirs, flood-relief channels and pumping stations appeared one after another, revealing the hidden infrastructure that keeps London supplied with water and protected from flooding. The highlight was a visit to the Walthamstow Pumphouse Museum, a wonderful volunteer-run museum celebrating the history of London's water supply, sewerage and transport. It's a treasure trove of steam engines, pumping machinery and industrial heritage, and well worth including as a stop on any ride through the Lea Valley. Back on our bicycles, the route threaded through the reservoirs and marshes, where modern pumping stations sit alongside wildlife-rich wetlands. It's an unusual combination: cutting-edge infrastructure sharing space with herons, swans, and reed beds. The ride itself was flat and relaxed, making it ideal for stopping to appreciate the engineering that most of us never notice. These anonymous buildings quietly pump, regulate and protect, working around the clock so that the rest of London barely has to think about them. Thanks to ride leader, and tour narrator, Alex for a memorable ride discovering the hidden infrastructure that kept and continues to keep a city of nine million people running and to finish with a deeper appreciation of the humble pump.

Join London Clarion Cycle Club from £20/year (£39 family). Friendly group rides, social events, and third-party liability insurance. Founded 1895.

Join London Clarion Cycle Club - one of London's oldest cycling clubs, founded in 1895. Friendly, inclusive, no-drop rides, weekend adventures and cycling events across London and beyond.

Discover the rich 130 year history of the London Clarion Cycle Club. Explore our roots in the historic Clarion movement, unique stories, and archives.