Last week I thought that Spring may be on its way, in fact I went as far as putting shorts on for my daily commute to work, and even considered putting the long winter tights away. It would appear that I was a bit premature on that front though, and I’m back in the long tights again this week and sat here in a jumper.
It’s Easter next week and the clock’s move to British Summer Time on Sunday too, so the winter can’t go on for much longer though, can it? Although statistically it's more likely to snow at Easter than Christmas, so maybe I shouldn't start packing the winter gear away just yet. While I’m talking about the never-ending winter, I’ve noticed a bit of a theme in the last few months of blog posts, and no it’s not the fact that they all seem to include reference to rain. It’s actually the overuse of the word “Brutal” that I’ve picked up on. I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that The Dean Audax was “Brutally hard” as was The Poor Student back in January (H’mmm there’s another common theme there, (both start and finish in Oxford and go through the Cotswolds)). My little days out can’t all be “Brutal” though, can they? Perhaps I need to start being a bit more careful with the adjectives I’m using. I mean, I don’t want you all to think that I’m “The boy that cried wolf” and I’m having an easy old-time pootling around the countryside on my bike whilst claiming how tough it is, do I? Anyway, that's enough about the weather and the English lessons, lets get on with what were actually here for and have a look at what I’ve been up to this weekend, without using the word “Brutal”. Saturday’s fun consisted of the Kennet Valley Run, an interesting little 200Km Audax, taking an unusual out and back route. Starting from Reading before heading down through Hungerford to Bratton (just outside Westbury) and back. Being a local ride, I’ve ridden this one a couple of times before and following the River Kennet valley it’s normally a fairly benign ride, along what is a fairly flat, but picturesque route. Although having said that, I seem to recall a year when we still had snow on the ground and a year with a hard headwind on the way out, both of which must have been in my Pre Blog days as I can’t find any mention of either of them in the archives, which dates it somewhat. What would this year have in store for the intrepid adventurer then? Well, looking at the weather forecast midweek, it looked like it might be alright. There was the possibility of a few showers in the afternoon, but nothing of real note. Which is part of the reason why I decided that a 200Km ride wasn’t quite enough, and as the start was only another 25Km (15 miles) from home, then I might as well ride to the start and back too, (besides, the Van won’t fit under the car park height barriers, and although my bike will fit in the Peugeot, it’s a bit of a faff).
To that end I was up with the lark on Saturday morning and on the road just before 06:30, heading for Reading.
With quite roads, the sun shining brightly from a clear blue sky, the birds singing and the odd patch of frost glinting from the roadside verges in the dips and hollows, (it’s surprising how the cold collects in certain spots) it was a beautiful morning to be on the road. The run up to Reading took less than an hour, and thus I found myself with time to kill, sheltering from a cold wind which had started to spring up, huddled in a bus stop, eating biscuits, and waiting for the appointed hour when I could get on the road proper (it’s a glamorous life this adventuring lark). A few biscuits and a bit of a stretch later (much to the amusement of the early morning commuters and shoppers who were waiting for their bus) and we were gathered at the start ready for the pre ride briefing and the big send off. “Mind out for potholes, I’ll see you back here for a brew and hot soup, enjoy the day, off you go then”. Followed by the customary stand and stare at each other for a few seconds until some brave soul decides to take the lead and we all head out for the first leg of what will be many miles. As soon as we set off, it was clear that the wind that had sprung up with the dawn, and was continuing to grow in ferocity, was going to be a problem. It was blowing strongly straight in our faces, and if it was in my face now, that meant that it was going to be in our faces for the next 100Km (62miles). Riding into the wind isn’t much fun. According to the internet (Specifically here, but if you start digging these figures seem to be fairly accurate) you need to be pushing an extra 100+ watts to ride into a 15Kph headwind, and believe you me the wind on Saturday was well in excess of 15Kph for a lot of the time. And an extra 100 watts for 100Km is quite some effort believe you me! Now, we all know that we can make life easier for ourselves by riding in a group and using the riders in front to slipstream behind. In fact, we can save up to 40% of our effort by doing so. There are a few things to know about riding in a group though. Firstly, I find it incredibly stressful. It’s great all the time everyone in the group knows what they are doing. But you’ve got to be riding inches from the rider in front to get any benefit. Which means you can’t see what’s coming, and your totally reliant on them keeping going at a steady pace. If they can’t, or their pace is different to yours, then your going to ride into the back of them if you’re not careful. That’s fine in the Tour de France, when everyone’s a professional, and you all know what your doing. But on a Saturday morning Audax, that’s not always the case. So you really need to be fully concentrating the whole time, and preempting the actions of those in front, whilst hoping that the people sitting on your wheel are equally attentive. Secondly, everyone’s got to be willing to take a go on the front. And again, you’ll often get the weaker riders sat on the back taking advantage of the slipstream and free tow, but when they get to the front, they can’t always push the extra power required to keep things moving forward and it all falls apart. And thirdly, and this is a big one for me, you’ve got to be concentrating 100% on the riders around you. So you don’t get the chance to look around, take in the scenery, and enjoy the ride. I can guarantee that the second you look away, the rider in front will slow down or move to avoid an obstacle, and you’ll be straight into the back of them. Which left me with a bit of a dilemma. Do I sit with a group and enjoy the easier ride into the wind, whilst taking my fair turns at the front, or do what I normally do, find a space of my own and enjoy the ride? From the off the first group went out incredibly fast considering the conditions, with a few strong riders pulling everyone else along, and there was no way that I could sustain that all morning. I did quickly find myself in a smaller group that was moving at a steady pace though, and I spent a while with them. I wasn’t enjoying myself though and nearly got caught out when everyone slowed to a crawl for a corner that could easily have been taken at the speed we were previously going. Easier day, or safe and enjoy the ride? That wasn’t a hard decision to make. So, I did the polite thing, moved to the front and did a long stint into the wind towing the rest of our little group behind as a thanks for their efforts thus far, and then when the road went downhill, dropped off the back and left them to their own devices. Whilst I pressed on into the wind alone, at a pace I thought I could sustain. Back on my own, I was happier. Yes, I was working harder, but I could hear the birds singing again, I had time to look around, and the only person I had to worry about was me. Bliss! Hungerford came along surprisingly quickly, and I took the opportunity to refill my water bottles and grab a “Pain Au Chocolate” (Purely for proof of passage receipt purposes obviously, and not at all because I’ve got a sweet tooth).
I’m not even going to try and pretend otherwise. The Next leg was tough. The wind was fully in my face for the entire 32 miles and was strong enough at times to almost bring me to a halt.
What made it even worse though, was the rain showers, which sprang up sporadically with a mix of hail thrown in for good measure. Not much fun at all. The first few miles progressed relatively easily, fuelled on “Pain Au Chocolate” and still fairly fresh, but towards the end I was suffering. Hunched into the wind, my back was crying out for a rest, my legs, aching from the endless effort of pushing into that wind, screamed out for respite, and my mind, normally attuned to blocking out the discomfort, had fully given in and decided that it had had enough for one day. Eventually though, after what seemed like, felt like, and was, hours of toil, the little café at Bratton hove in to view. Entering the little café and looking around, my fellow Audaxers all looked like I felt. Exhausted, haggard, windblown, and tired. But there was still an air of optimism and general good humour in the air. "It can’t be as hard on the way back can it, surely the wind will be behind us." A brew, slice of delicious Victoria sponge cake and a sit down worked wonders on my tired legs and general air of despondency. Although watching the rain lash down on the café windows as I sat in a warm, comfortable, chair cuddling my brew, did little for my desire to get back out there. As the rain eased, I decided that there was only one option if I was to actually get home again, and dragged my weary bones from the warm, comfortable sanctuary, to face the conditions again. Back on the bike, as I peddled away from the little oasis of cake, the smile was straight back on my face. The wind was indeed now behind me, and the exertions of earlier were replaced with the feeling of flying, as that viscous headwind that I’d been battling just minutes before, now helped push me home. Gone was the hunching over the bars trying to be as small as possible to reduce the effort, replaced with stretching out, looking around, enjoying the scenery, and wondering what all the fuss had been about. This was more like it! Miles that had gone so slowly on the way down fairly flew by on the way back. Fast familiar roads, sweeping bends, the Kennet and Avon canal for company, fields of cows, sheep with lambs in tow, pretty little villages, and all the time the wind lending a helping hand to propel me back the way I’d come. By Mid-afternoon I was back at Hungerford and pushing on for the final few lumpy miles back towards Reading. The route back diverts at Hungerford from the way down, and whilst the way down is mainly flat, the way back is a bit lumpier, but at the same time, more interesting. Nothing to serious, but with legs that have already done over 100 miles, you start to feel the inclines. Nothing's going to compare with those miles into the wind in the morning though, and before I know it, I’m rolling to a stop back where I started, to be greeted by a hot brew, the offer of beans on toast and the shared camaraderie of fellow riders, each with their own tales to tell of the day’s efforts. Unusually, the days not over yet though, as there still the small matter of the 15 miles back home to go. Another 15 miles. Refreshed, refuelled and with a hot brew in my belly, that’s not going to be a major issue is it? As darkness descended bringing another great day out to a close, so I made my way along the familiar roads back home, arriving back just under 13 hours after having set off with another 156 miles in my legs. More than ready for a hot shower, brew and a late tea with "The Emma" before an early night. Yes, it had been a testing day out, the weather in the morning was certainly against us. But in the afternoon, with the wind on my back, the sun breaking through, and the smell of spring in the air, there was nowhere I’d rather have been than sat on my bike. A hard day out into a vicious headwind, certainly, but “Brutal” definitely not. And on that note, I’m off the check the thesaurus for alternatives to “Brutal” ready for next week.
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Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
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