In article <
[email protected]>, davek
(
[email protected]) wrote:
> MartinM wrote:
> > I am soooooo glad I'm not on The Dean
>
> But you missed a fantastic ride!
[Triff ride report snipped]
Herewith my take:
05:45 and there is the threat of rain in the air as Dave Kahn takes me
to task for talking up the ride. I don't care. What I /do/ care about
is the new combination of SPDs and Shimano sandals. Either my right foot
is half as wide again as my left, or the right SPanDal is narrower than
it orter be, or something. Either way, my right foot was well on its
way to descent into a state of total numbness in the short ride from the
centre of Oxford out to the start. This was /not/ looking good.
We hadn't gone far up the road when a brief but ferocious downpour
served to dampen spirits a bit, but it soon blew over and we pressed on
to the first control at Stow-on-the-Wold. A nice run, without too many
lumpy bits. Though on one of the minor lumps, I caught up with three
lads, all using trainers and platform pedals. One of them appeared to
be suffering already, after about 30 km. I mentally wished them good
luck, pressed on to Stow, swigged down a bottle of water, made my
excuses and left, accompanied by davek.
For a bit. Dave's bike started making odd noises, perforce requiring a
stop to investigate, while I pressed on. Most of the next 20 km was
typical Cotswold BLEAN, which is to say lumps and downhills which you
can't take advantage of because of:
o tight corners, and
o opaque hedges, and
o Skog(tm)
Dave caught up and pushed on ahead while I waited for the descent into
Winchcombe. 74 km/h and mad triker hooting, before unleashing my secret
weapon, which went like this:
o in Winchcombe, R @ T
o 1st L North Street
o In Gretton, L SP Gotherington
o In Gotherington, L The Lawns
o L @ T
o R @ T
This rejoins the advertised route. 2.7 km longer, removes the need for
that climb out of Winchcombe. Any attempts to put an info control at
the top of that hill ill be met by:
o Ultimate Force, or
o an attack of the sulks
I spotted davek in the mirror just as I emerged back onto the route, but
as the next 30-odd km were mostly flat and into the brisk wind, he
disappeared from view until the Newent control. About 8 km short of
which was spotted a familiar sight: Dave Kahn, who I hadn't seen since
his usual rocket-assisted departure from the start, fixing a flat.
I didn't hang around in Newent either, as the next section through the
Forest of Dean, was promised to be lumpy, and so it proved.
Particularly dispiriting was the drag through Bream, which just seemed
to go on for ever. However, the sun had come out and it was promising
to turn into a nice day. Although I /had/ been advised to make the most
of it by a bloke in Newent as "they" were expecting heavy rain later.
While it contained some evil scenery, this leg also contained some nice
"scenery" and towards the end, a fantastic view over the Severn estuary
before the final mad plunge down into Chepstow. Spoiled a bit by the
rough surface, but hey...
A refilling of bottles and consumption of Scotch egg later, Mr Kahn
swept past us and headed for the main Tesco store, instead of hanging
out with us riff-raff at the petrol station. "Don't forget the
shortcut!" said Phixer Phil Chadwick, as we prepared to move off. This
is a cunning move, involving turning off the drag out of Chepstow and
through Bulwark, before rejoining the route just before the Severn
bridge.
<URL:http://tinyurl.com/qk97m>
However, you have to be quick through here, or in a big bunch, as
otherwise you may be eaten by chavs. Natch I got ahead of the fixer
brigade and had to do an extra lap of the place before spotting someone
honking up the hill to the bridge.
The bridge itself was far less fraught than I had imagined, and soon we
were into some undulating bits of the BRITONS' England. Up towards
Thornbury was bad. Up towards Hawkesbury was worse, especially as a
brief but violent rainstorm came in. I was happy to be sheltered by the
trees at this point, though the fixer brigade later reported hiding for
a while until it blew over, which was how I found myself in their midst
on the run into Malmesbury, reached at 17:15.
I got a little Bewildered on the way out of Malmesbury, finding myself
on the route of the Poor Student instead and muttering "where the f*ck
is Wootton Bassett?" Before adding a few more unnecessary km to the
distance travelled. The run towards Wootton Bassett is made doubly
depressing by the facts that:
o you know you have to climb the Ridgeway soon, and
o you can see a bloody great ridge off to the right, and
o you know that said ridge isn't the Ridgeway
After grovelling over said ridge, after Broad Town, there was a quick
drop back to ground level before launching the assault on the Ridgeway
proper. Natch at this point it started to rain. And by the time I'd
reached the top and started blasting down the other side towards
Marlborough, the rain was interspersed with hail. If there are two
things worse than country music, as the poet said, one of them is
cycling through a hailstorm at 70 km/h with no glasses, no gloves and no
socks. Thus it was that a shivering Mr. Larrington missed the turning,
with attendant info control, in Marlborough. If there /was/ a signpost
to Ramsbury, I totally failed to see it. Cool rainbow action on the way
over the hills, though.
A brief sock-and-glove stop in Axford. If anyone is wondering why I had
odd socks on, so was I. The gloves were made doubly necessary by the
rear gear cable exhibiting suspicious political tendencies and poking me
in the palm with a broken strand of wire. Note to self: replace before
Invicta 300.
The depressing thing about Membury services is that one can see that
radio mast, adorned with red lights, from several counties away and,
moreover, if one can only see the top couple of lights, it's because
there's a hill between you and it. A Martin of Willesden, on fixed,
came past on the way up. Curious, as he'd left Malmesbury /before/ me.
There seemed to be a lot of this going on - riders who had dropped me on
climbs appearing out of the gathering gloom to pass me on another one.
Finally the summit level was attained, and a good thing too, as the
flatteries in my head torch were working about as well as geriatric
glow-worms.
At the petrol station Phixer Phil, on home territory, was attempting to
advise those going all the way back to Oxford of a means of avoiding the
second long drag over the Ridgeway after Lambourn, but I decided that at
this stage of affairs, it was better to stick to the advertised route.
It was about quarter to nine as I started the brilliant descent into
Lambourn tempered by the wish not to explode the Lightspin with
sustained V > 60 km/h behaviour; zig-zag through the village -
mercifully horse-free at this time of night - and head out into the
country. This climb of the ridge Was way easier than I'd expected. A
brief little-ring-and-gasp moment, before it settled into a gentle drag.
And a brief WTF moment before I worked out that the white blur which had
just shot across my field of vision was a hunting owl. And another one,
until I worked out that the terrible howling noises coming from a
roadside copse were probably due to frisky foxes.
Another long straight descent, though I knew from the Marlborough
Connection that there was a corner somewhere. Ah, here it is. What I
couldn't tell from my vantage point was that 3/4 of the road was
flooded. Squelch, ugh! Scream down to the last info at Stanford-in-
the-Vale before a lovely flat and wind-assisted 30 km run into the
finish in 17:04. Nothing broke or fell off, except possibly the toes of
my right foot. At least, that was what it felt like, though on getting
back to Dr Larrington's place and gingerly removing my soggy socks, I
did seem still to have a full complement.
Anyway, kudos to Nik Windle for a triffic route and to Dr Larrington for
the loan of her house. No dead badgers and 321.3 km for the day - I was
tempted to ride round the block a couple of times to make it 200 miles,
but not *that* tempted...
PS: Glad to notice both Daves have posted in here since the finish, as I
was getting a bit concerned after not being overtaken by either of you.
--
Dave Larrington - <http://www.legslarry.beerdrinkers.co.uk/>
np: "Lord Of Light", Hawkwind