It has been quoted that I like hills. Some more than others. We had been warned: this was an undulating ride, with hills between the undulations. Quite.
Some images just cannot be captured on old fashioned celluloid or even modern digital devices. What follows is a brief personal description of the lingering images that are found in the Night Ride folder of my memory.
After a couple of hours we re-grouped at a junction of minor roads. The nocturnal sky was inky black, devoid of cloud, littered with fulgent stars and the Milky Way. Charlie, one of own celestial bodies, pointed out various constellations to the less knowledgeable of us. A wondrous sight.
We climbed Blackgang Hill. Not too steep (inner ring for me though) but a long, long grind. One of the reasons I like hills is the descent that invariably follows. And this was no exception, yet ending al too quickly, as usual. After re-grouping, in the crepuscular light, we fairly flew along the Military Road (A3055), a lovely road unencumbered by vehicles, with the coast to our left and the cliffs beyond Freshwater in the distance. According to a GPS thingy, we averaged over 30 kph for over 13km.
Around 04.30, we pulled into the parking area for Compton Beach. From the clifftop edge, we watched 2 boarders enjoying the gentle surf below. ‘Nutters’ mused Adam , soft laughter ensued. One wonders if they noticed our lights and thought similar about us.
In the distance, we could see Freshwater in the valley. Just above, it looked like liquid cotton wool had been poured along a narrow strip of the verdant fields, tumbling down the chalk cliff into the sea.
It was decided to visit the Needles, so we proceeded upwards towards Alum Bay in thickening mist. It was a mild night yet the temperature noticeably and quickly dropped a few degrees here. We whizzed by the entrance to Tennyson’s former home of 40 years – though the house is not visible from the road. Nearing Alum Bay, the dense mist cleared and we made our way to the battery. Around the first hairpin and we collectively stopped. The eastern horizon faced us directly and there was a slim penumbra of deep orange surrounded by a lighter glow. Within 180seconds, the segment grew to a ball of fire-bright orange with an almost white centre, rise into the sky. Spectacular.
We made our descent into Yarmouth thru damp air, leaving us and the bikes covered in droplets as if we’d ridden thru light drizzle. Spectacle wearers struggled with their vision obscured.
At the Cowes chain ferry, we bid adieu to Eddie and Paul, while the remainder rode to Ryde, becoming very warm due to rising temperature and yet more rising landscapes.
A superb ride.
Thank yous to: Stu, ride organiser and road captain; Adam, his trusty second in command; all other participants, for being themselves and cameraderie; Mr R Fuller (aka wetherspoon), for breakfast and bike stowage.
Honourable Mention: Rebecca, hope the knee gets better so you can enjoy an entire ride not just the start and breakfast.
