Mission accomplished. After completing the first half of this ride last April, and trying the second half in September (where we were rained off after six miles) Joe was still keen to complete.
01.30 Wake up grumpy teenager
02.15 Start fretting mildly about getting away on time, at which point Joe gets stuck in to a bowl of Weetabix (eight I think it was).
02.30 Set off for Clapham Junction (six miles)
02.32 GT decides he needs another layer on his legs
02.55 Pull in to CJ with plenty of time to spare.
03.09 Safely on train for Gatwick. Not too many drunks and not too many weird stares.
03.45 Arrive Gatwick perfectly on time. Grab a quick tea and hot chocolate and a bag of 'Wobbly Worms', ready for when the sugar deficit bites later on.
04.15 Leave LGW down the stairs. There's one of our number who looks to be going the wrong way. But no, he's a random cyclist who's trying to catch a train, and looks like thunder as an apparent endless stream of cheery cyclists heading down the stairs hold him up.
04.30 Underway after a brief DI2 failure interlude. It's chilly, but not unbearably so (far from it actually).
Thereafter, there's not much I can say really that can add to the flavour of the ride beyond what those glorious photos show.
We had a tailwind, great company (as ever), and Joe was doing a lot more than just keeping up. The route was gorgeous. Great views, quiet lanes, stunning birdsong; and we fair rolled along. One puncture-enforced delay saw us by a field of calves who have a fantastic combination of herd curiosity, tempered with timidity. They advance bit by bit, each not wanting to get too far ahead of the others, but the moment you hold out a hand, they flinch backwards, and then slowly advance again.
There was the footpath, the bike lifting over the kissing gates (four of them ?), the Gurkha bridge, the smooth running Arun, the Truman Show style village of Amberley (it's just a little too perfect don't you think ?), the final climb and sunshine throughout (and I have no idea if I have those in the right order - it has all melded into one flowing experience). I was feeling good enough that I could go on like this for ever. But before I knew it we were skirting Arundel Castle and on the home stretch for Felpham. Tim was good enough not to pick me for waymarking any of the last few turns and as soon as the sea was sighted Joe was off, sprinting to the seafront, and he had got the jump on me, I couldn't catch him.
Breakfast was superb, the sausages put the Madeira's to shame (but we all knew that that wouldn't be difficult). I could easily have eaten two of their big breakfasts without any bother at all, but we had tickets for a 10am train so had to scoot. After a rail diversion via Three Bridges (as opposed to the more direct route via Hove) we ended up at Hassocks but Joe had already displayed signs of poopedness and I had lined up Lu to pick him up there. I'm not sure he would have made the five miles into the wind by that point. I ambled my way back to the van at Streat via one of my most favourite stretches anywhere, the 'French Fields' (as we have christened them), a West - East route which runs parallel to the Downs and brings you out by Streat Church after a little bit of rough stuff. By the time I had had a quick catch up with the gang I made it to the van to find Joe fast asleep and snoring.
Thank you all for your company and for being so welcoming to a young 'un. He was well chuffed at knocking that particular ride off (52.5 miles including the five and a bit to Clapham). It will be good training for our planned (but too brief) Normandy Jaunt in August.
(And just to confirm the choice of our erstwhile and esteemed leader, we've had friends staying in a house on the Felpham seafront this last week about 400 yards from the Lobster Pot, and their considered opinion is that it is the best eaterie in town, by some distance.)
