MTB: Train to Arundel, then up past the Black Rabbit, under clear blue skies, just before South Stoke the off road starts. Frozen solid, after a heavy frost, thick ice in every puddle begs to be broken, climb up to the river cliffs of the Arun and then down through the trees, across the roots (cleaned) and on to Houghton. South Downs Way up, up and up to the top of Bury Hill and across to Westburton Hill before dropping down to the foot of Bignor Hill. Cresting Bignor Hill we encounter a heard of about 30 deer trotting alongside us, oblivious to our presence and a walker dog barks and the shy away, we pause for breath and jelly babies before joining Stane Street. The power, the glory that was Rome echoes through the years as we see the spire of Chichester Cathedral in the distance. The Basilica of Noviomagus once stood on that same spot.
Through Eartham Wood heading south-west on the roller coaster of a roman road, 20m of tarmac and we are running north-east parallel to our former course wthi the whale backed hump of Nore Hill. One minute we are riding on bone dry chalk the next though Sussex's finest mud which clings and cloys to my tyres. Silently cursing my laziness in not putting my narrow mud tyres on y'day I curse audibly as the 2.4 front locks solid in the fork. A simple roll backwards reminds me of the younger days when I could do that without getting off and normal service is resumed. But I know the worst of the mud, not well thawed still lies in front of us.
Legs burning we pass north of Slindon, the ground sticky so that gentle downhills still require input from the pedals. So far we've passed one MTB-er and about a dozen dog walkers in 20km. We cross the A29 heading South East and on into the heart of Rewell Wood, climbing and in mud. My trackstand to see if I can see a line through one mire provokes a gasp of admiration from my companion, my chosen line a disaster; his works perfectly!
The sharp left in the words involves a short steep rutted ramp with a deep gully in the centre. My first attempt sees me on my arse, my second fails as I inadvertently unclip and it is on the third go that you hurt yourself so I dismount. My companion cleans it on his second attempt (My excuse; he is younger fitter and better looking than me) Climbing again on dry but loose ground we encounter a fallen tree that someone has chainsawed to allow passage. We emerge from the woods to find the sky has clouded over and as we wind ourselves across the open fields we see the spite of Arundel Cathedral in the near distance over the trees. We pass a couple of MTB-ers coming the other way who look visible shocked at our filthy state.
Into Screens Wood and more mud and mire to be attacked and the sound of the A27 over to our left. We are getting close to civilisation; such a shame that noise from motor cars is what proclaims this to us. We encounter another fallen tree this time completely blocking the bridleway. Getting past requires careful footwork on the saturated ground and at one point to avoid falling over when I trip I drop my bike on the floor. The mud is ever present and at one point dismounting is the only option. A short sharp downhill and we are spat out to the roar of cars besides the main road.
A short spin on tarmac back to the station where we spend the time waiting for the train by scapping the mud off our bikes with our gloved hands.
Only 27km, 450m of climbing, over two and half hours. But a half-epic nonetheless. My companion sums it up on the train "Fantastic".
