StuAff
Silencing his legs regularly
- Location
- Portsmouth
Back for a second edition, the ride that starts at a castle even Long Martin would notice, and ends at another royal seat. Unlike the previous two rides, and the previous installment of this one this was a work night, so instead of a nice relaxing ride up, or (like last year), a ride up with a train thrown in due to acts of road closure, it was the in-no-way-ever-stressful eight-minute dash to get the gear on, get to the bike, and get to the London-bound train. Need to make that 2138 service emphasised by the usual plan B, the 2208 from the Airport station, not running, in a very unhelpful, seemingly one night only, timetable alteration. There was a 2238 service if I missed it, but apart from the hour's delay, I would have got to Slough at a quarter to one, so hopeless to get to the start in time. Plan B was therefore to ride from Reading, having arrived there just before midnight, and meet up en route- it wouldn't have taken long, certainly less than an hour.
As it happened, plan A worked out perfectly. Most of the work area started heading for the exits a couple of minutes before 9.30, so I did too. A sprint round to the platform and get there just as the train is rolling in. Seven minutes on that train, then off one Waterloo service, which didn't stop at Basingstoke, at Winchester, for the first time, to wait for another service, which did (the one from Portsmouth, funnily enough). I could have ridden to Eastleigh- a mile and a half or so- for that one and saved a change and a little dosh, but time would have been very tight, so four pounds well spent. The other Waterloo train was running three or four minutes late, but no problem making the connection for Reading. After a thankfully short trip ('enlivened' by a couple of young people who chose to ignore the quiet carriage signs), no problem making the Elizabeth line service for Slough, where I also found ride leader Titus. Arrival at 2320 or so, then a two-mile hop south to Brenda's place, where the majority of the ride awaited.
Now, the ride page over on the Fridays website seems to have put some people off. "The route is 65 miles of rolling countryside, with very limited bailout options. This may suit the more experienced night riders, but won't be for everyone." All the not-London start rides seem to have problems attracting numbers, but frankly it seems ridiculous when it's so reachable from Paddington and Waterloo. OK, RideLondon on Sunday accounted for a few potential attendees, but not that many. Must have been the hills, then. Those who come out in hives at the mere mention of a hill or two, think they'll need an oxygen tank at every 'summit', ran away, ran away…As I said to Gordon in the morning, when he remarked on the amount of climbing, 'Welcome to my world'. There's that whacking great ridge two miles from this sofa, for a start. Hills are good for you (or as some Belgian chap put it, 'don't buy upgrades, ride up grades'). There were glorious views, speedy descents, and a truly fabulous half-way stop. You missed a treat, flatlanders. Delia Smith sprang to mind…
As it happens, there weren't twelve men at the Cinnamon Cafe for the start, a mere eleven, with a solitary newbie, Gautam, who seemed to enjoy himself and will hopefully be back. Brompton mafia being absent, everyone was on larger wheels. Very sensibly, gravel bikes seemed to be in the majority. A high proportion of the rural roads en route have a hearty sprinkling of loose stuff either side of potholes, though thankfully the county council has given up on the signs claiming there are works to improve them…
With a small group, and the first part of the route being largely flat, the early pace was high. My rolling average was approaching 13 mph at one point. Rather than going a direct route to our new-for-this-year halfway, Titus had opted to stick with last year's for the first part- so intended ride distance was seventy six miles, and we still went through the eastern outskirts of Reading before heading towards Basingstoke. Waymarking was dispensed with for the most part- the most that was needed was one or two hanging back to make sure everyone made turns. We did have an unscheduled stop on the run into Basingstoke, when Chris suffered a puncture- the only one of the evening, I think. The town itself was negotiated as quickly as the dreadful cycling infrastructure permitted- we were stopping at neither the McDonalds (…ha ha…) nor last year's garage again. Then, the climbing began in earnest, with the second highest point of the ride, and certainly the grindiest climb, up to a rather diabolical 666ft.
Half-way stop, more like two thirds in this case (just about the fifty mile mark) was at Medstead, at about half-four. Chris and his wife Anne had very kindly offered to cater for us at their home. The spread that awaited us was truly phenomenal, and brought to mind Karen & David's efforts for the FNRttK (Brussels-Ostend). Some of us had underestimated the energy required for the first part, despite Titus' warnings about bringing snacks, but flagging spirits and empty stomachs were soon restored, and then some. Bread, croissants, bacon, sausage, cheese, malt loaf, flapjack, doughnuts…for some reason I had more of my own grub than usual left when I got home
Jasper the dog added entertainment, though if he thought he'd get scraps he was mistaken!
After a splendid hour or so, off we went into the dawn. Medstead's only fifteen or so miles from Winchester, and another McDonalds breakfast, because nothing else was open, was in no-one's plans. We therefore continued south, up to the very highest point of the ride, before turning west. After passing through Kilmeston (a place I'm very familiar with, though usually north-south), there was a change. Gordon had a fairly early train booked, the lumpiness was having an effect on speed and energy levels, and time was not on our side, so rather than stick with the original plan (continuing south-west then north into Winchester), we turned north-west, and this cut four miles and a fair chunk of time out. There was still a fair bit of climbing, and that tended to spread us out, but the views were compensation for the effort. The next stretch took us to a route one option- the A272. A trunk road and fast traffic, yes, but that traffic was fairly quiet and considerate, and the speed for that section really picked up before the final drop into the city. Wetherspoons was reached at 8.15 or so, and some headed for trains, the rest refuelled. I was one of the last to leave about an hour later. I felt fine, and so was the weather, so another 25 miles or so beckoned. The initial part was, as always with Winchester, a slog (walk back down a one-way street, then off-road shared paths with dog walkers), so it took twenty minutes or so to get out on open road. After that, though, progress was rapidly made, certainly a lot quicker than after October's edition. Wickham saw a short delay- road works meant four-way traffic control and queuing on a slope- I ended up walking to the lights because I'd stopped in too high a gear & I couldn't kick off. Back along/up Portsdown Hill, and once I'd dropped back down into Pompey, a short extra loop as 98.4 miles wouldn't do. Century done and home just about 11.45.
Thanks everyone- especially Chris and Anne for incredible hospitality. Missing Eastbourne & Blackpool (due to other things and ££££ rail fares respectively), so the next night ride for me will be Brighton. After the small matter of the Fridays tour…
As it happened, plan A worked out perfectly. Most of the work area started heading for the exits a couple of minutes before 9.30, so I did too. A sprint round to the platform and get there just as the train is rolling in. Seven minutes on that train, then off one Waterloo service, which didn't stop at Basingstoke, at Winchester, for the first time, to wait for another service, which did (the one from Portsmouth, funnily enough). I could have ridden to Eastleigh- a mile and a half or so- for that one and saved a change and a little dosh, but time would have been very tight, so four pounds well spent. The other Waterloo train was running three or four minutes late, but no problem making the connection for Reading. After a thankfully short trip ('enlivened' by a couple of young people who chose to ignore the quiet carriage signs), no problem making the Elizabeth line service for Slough, where I also found ride leader Titus. Arrival at 2320 or so, then a two-mile hop south to Brenda's place, where the majority of the ride awaited.
Now, the ride page over on the Fridays website seems to have put some people off. "The route is 65 miles of rolling countryside, with very limited bailout options. This may suit the more experienced night riders, but won't be for everyone." All the not-London start rides seem to have problems attracting numbers, but frankly it seems ridiculous when it's so reachable from Paddington and Waterloo. OK, RideLondon on Sunday accounted for a few potential attendees, but not that many. Must have been the hills, then. Those who come out in hives at the mere mention of a hill or two, think they'll need an oxygen tank at every 'summit', ran away, ran away…As I said to Gordon in the morning, when he remarked on the amount of climbing, 'Welcome to my world'. There's that whacking great ridge two miles from this sofa, for a start. Hills are good for you (or as some Belgian chap put it, 'don't buy upgrades, ride up grades'). There were glorious views, speedy descents, and a truly fabulous half-way stop. You missed a treat, flatlanders. Delia Smith sprang to mind…
As it happens, there weren't twelve men at the Cinnamon Cafe for the start, a mere eleven, with a solitary newbie, Gautam, who seemed to enjoy himself and will hopefully be back. Brompton mafia being absent, everyone was on larger wheels. Very sensibly, gravel bikes seemed to be in the majority. A high proportion of the rural roads en route have a hearty sprinkling of loose stuff either side of potholes, though thankfully the county council has given up on the signs claiming there are works to improve them…
With a small group, and the first part of the route being largely flat, the early pace was high. My rolling average was approaching 13 mph at one point. Rather than going a direct route to our new-for-this-year halfway, Titus had opted to stick with last year's for the first part- so intended ride distance was seventy six miles, and we still went through the eastern outskirts of Reading before heading towards Basingstoke. Waymarking was dispensed with for the most part- the most that was needed was one or two hanging back to make sure everyone made turns. We did have an unscheduled stop on the run into Basingstoke, when Chris suffered a puncture- the only one of the evening, I think. The town itself was negotiated as quickly as the dreadful cycling infrastructure permitted- we were stopping at neither the McDonalds (…ha ha…) nor last year's garage again. Then, the climbing began in earnest, with the second highest point of the ride, and certainly the grindiest climb, up to a rather diabolical 666ft.
Half-way stop, more like two thirds in this case (just about the fifty mile mark) was at Medstead, at about half-four. Chris and his wife Anne had very kindly offered to cater for us at their home. The spread that awaited us was truly phenomenal, and brought to mind Karen & David's efforts for the FNRttK (Brussels-Ostend). Some of us had underestimated the energy required for the first part, despite Titus' warnings about bringing snacks, but flagging spirits and empty stomachs were soon restored, and then some. Bread, croissants, bacon, sausage, cheese, malt loaf, flapjack, doughnuts…for some reason I had more of my own grub than usual left when I got home
Jasper the dog added entertainment, though if he thought he'd get scraps he was mistaken!After a splendid hour or so, off we went into the dawn. Medstead's only fifteen or so miles from Winchester, and another McDonalds breakfast, because nothing else was open, was in no-one's plans. We therefore continued south, up to the very highest point of the ride, before turning west. After passing through Kilmeston (a place I'm very familiar with, though usually north-south), there was a change. Gordon had a fairly early train booked, the lumpiness was having an effect on speed and energy levels, and time was not on our side, so rather than stick with the original plan (continuing south-west then north into Winchester), we turned north-west, and this cut four miles and a fair chunk of time out. There was still a fair bit of climbing, and that tended to spread us out, but the views were compensation for the effort. The next stretch took us to a route one option- the A272. A trunk road and fast traffic, yes, but that traffic was fairly quiet and considerate, and the speed for that section really picked up before the final drop into the city. Wetherspoons was reached at 8.15 or so, and some headed for trains, the rest refuelled. I was one of the last to leave about an hour later. I felt fine, and so was the weather, so another 25 miles or so beckoned. The initial part was, as always with Winchester, a slog (walk back down a one-way street, then off-road shared paths with dog walkers), so it took twenty minutes or so to get out on open road. After that, though, progress was rapidly made, certainly a lot quicker than after October's edition. Wickham saw a short delay- road works meant four-way traffic control and queuing on a slope- I ended up walking to the lights because I'd stopped in too high a gear & I couldn't kick off. Back along/up Portsdown Hill, and once I'd dropped back down into Pompey, a short extra loop as 98.4 miles wouldn't do. Century done and home just about 11.45.
Thanks everyone- especially Chris and Anne for incredible hospitality. Missing Eastbourne & Blackpool (due to other things and ££££ rail fares respectively), so the next night ride for me will be Brighton. After the small matter of the Fridays tour…
