Names have been changed to protect the innocent, but also because I didn't ever know them. Perhaps they'll recognise themselves.
Its a wonderful Saturday, sunny & warm. Derek Duck up there on my shed roof tells me its a bit windy though as his wooden wings whizz wildly. Lets have a day cycling tomorrow why not, but something different for the weekend sir?
Hmmm, 200km in Glasgow? Bit too far for a day trip. 200km in Doncaster, 200km in Darlington, not much better then. But look, here's Rita Wilkins' Derby Canter and now to be a bit of a pain in the neck to an organiser with probably enough on her plate already just at the moment - "Hi, do you have enough cards to take entries on the line?" - and on Sunday morning early I'm whizzing up the M3 to Epsom like a dose of magnesium sulphate crystals. See, I try to be educational too.
The 150km have just left as I sign on for the 100km and join a bunch of about 50 riders. I don't recognise anybody. I speak to a lady, "Do you know the route?"
"Sorry, I'm from Essex" she replies, leaving me wondering what she is apologising for.
We thread through Epsom and I try and find a grouping that look like (a) they know their way and (b) want to ride at a civilized steady pace. That's not too easy. Essex Lady is behind me, Young Woman With Lots of Curly Hair is going up the hill ahead of me just a bit faster than I want to. Italian Man and English Friend climb away from me, English Friend waits at the top for Italian Man, but I pass Italian Man about a mile further on waiting for English Friend. Eventually I find a bunch of yellow tops marked SW Road Club and am doing well with them until they stop by a big white van in a lay-by. Secret Control? I check, no, but there is quite a confusion as more and more pile in with the same idea! Oh well, lets leave them to it, brain in gear then, where's that route sheet? . . . 'TR @ T JN & L @ SP' . . . seems clear enough if only I knew exactly where I was at the moment. Essex Lady scoots by confirming my diagnosis, but truly Rita's route was a model of clarity.
Scottish Lady and Tenterden Man pass me with a cheery wave and then past 'Lisa's Bakery' where many on the ride have decided to indulge themselves. They should overtake me again soon. Narrow Sussex country lanes now, through a railway station subway at Warnham, where Scottish Lady and Tenterden Man are loitering - I think its bike maintenance but well, you never know do you?
Sailing on & on, this wind is deceptive. Its strong but is it helpful? Its so gusty, and there is a moment of misgiving at the Bucks Green turn, thinking of having to flog back into this! In fact, its so turbulent that its not really too bad. Once or twice squalls fight me to a standstill, but the old randonneur skills return - that is to say, a pigheaded stubborn streak and the ability to 'switch off' the brain and not think beyond the bend in the road ahead - its only a 100km after all, not the PBP!
A short stop at the foot of the hill up and over to East Clandon for the remains of my lunchtime pie, in pleasant company with Mountainbike Man and Roadbike Young Lady, and leaving to tackle the hill just as he starts massaging her shoulders.
This is the only serious hill on the route. Two "Rodneys" pass me halfway up.
"Hi, how are you doing?" says Rodney One
"Quite well thank you," I reply calmly
"I've not the gears for this," says Rodney Two dismounting and taking off his cleats to walk as we hit the 1 in 7 bit. I go by him. Don't see what the fuss is about myself, this would be but one hump of the "Dorset Downs 100km" you know.
Rodney One is waiting at the top on the right hand fork and I leave him waiting for Two and follow on round for a mile until I realise this has misled me, I should have taken the left fork there. Track back. Scottish Lady and the two Rodneys sail by making the same error. Returning to the fork, puzzle because the signpost is missing. Help is at hand in the form of Local Tandem Pair as they top the hill. What a superb view from the top where the North Downs Way crosses, at least the wind has ensured excellent visibility.
Soon Tandem Pair shoot by and just as well as the directions to the control have confused me slightly here and I see which way they went. The control at "Wheeler's Rest" near Send must be the best kept secret of the South London Clubs. A cafe which doesn't look like a cafe in the middle of nowhere, and devoted to cycling. Seems to offer cyclists' food too. Front half of Tandem Pair orders 'The Works'. I can't believe what arrives - talk about Desperate Dan's cow pies. That lot would have me stodged up for days! The Rodneys arrive, several miles detour later. It transpires apparently that Rodney is a Cycling Club of great antiquity.
Crossing just inside the M25 I am astounded, this close to London a farmland landscape such that I could be home in Dorset. But this is a strange land to me, most of the countryside while basically rural, has been so neat, tame and long settled, not at all like rougher Dorset, no cowshit on the roads anywhere to splash my legs. Big houses hiding behind high hedges and even the roadside grass is mowed. Here inside the M25 its even stranger, with private roads on all sides. The route even leads us along one such road marked "Crown Estate, Private" "No Through Road" "Residents Only" "Access to Richcroft and Wealthlands only". I'm sure I'll get shot or something and am slightly relieved to enter Fairoak Lane even though its been newly gritted and I keep getting pushed into the deep drain covers by the stealthily approaching Rolls Royces. Perhaps they are attracted to my Royce bottom bracket?
Finish at 4 o'clock exactly to a great welcome. Amused to see all mentioned in the text above trickle in slowly after me, before leaving for home. Great ride, good fun, thanks to Rita Wilkins and SW London DA.
Keith Matthews