Well, what a lovely weekend it’s been, not only has it managed to stay dry, but the sun’s come out on more than one occasion and it’s been pleasantly warm with it. Despite the unmistakable smell of Autumn in the air, the trees starting to loose their leaves, the summer cereal crops having been harvested and the process of planting next years crops being underway, maybe there’s still a chance that we may see some sun this year! So, have I taken advantage of the temporary extension to summer? You bet I have, with a return to the bike for a bit of fun in the Cotswolds, all neatly wrapped up under the Audax banner for The Morris Major, a somewhat over length 200km ride through some of the most beautiful countryside in the South of England. With an 08:00 start from Kelmscott, in the South of the Cotswolds, It made total sense to take the van up on Friday night and take advantage of an extra night out. And what a beautiful night out it was. Warm, clear and windless. Sitting on the step of the van, enjoying a pre bed beer, whilst watching the stars move across the sky and listening to the night creatures waking from their day time slumber was a magical experience, and more than made up for the extra half hour sitting in Friday afternoon traffic on the way up. That wasn’t the purpose of my travels though and after a good nights sleep, I was up and ready for the days main event. I must admit that it made a nice change to be able to have a chat with some of my fellow riders and take advantage of a brew at the start too. After so many months of lockdowns, restrictions and staggered starts, this was the first Audax event that I’ve been to that’s had any semblance of normality, all be it with somewhat reduced numbers. Brew’s supped and on the stroke of 8 (or 5 to by my clock, which probably explains why I was still monkeying around when everyone else set off) we were off, or in my case playing catch up from the back. It didn’t take long to catch back up though, and I’d soon fallen in with a small group riding off the front of the main pack. I must admit that I’m not really a fan of riding with others, I think that over the years I’ve spent so much time riding on my own that I’ve just got used to it. Yes, it’s lovely to have someone to chat too, but at the same time you need to spend so much time concentrating on what those around you are doing that you miss what’s unfolding around you. To gain any real benefit of group riding you’ve got to be pretty close to the person in front, and whilst it is a significant advantage, saving a considerable amount of energy whilst your in their slipstream, personally I’d rather be able to see where I’m going and not have to worry that the person behinds about to take me down, than have that advantage. To that end, I wasn’t too fussed, when after an hour or so of sociable chatting we got split up. Having opened up a small gap between myself and my new-found friends coming up a steep incline, I went straight on at a junction and they all turned right. I’ll grant you they shouted me to tell me that I’d gone the wrong way, but according to my version of the route and my map, my way looked better, so I just pushed on. And I must have been correct, because the next time I saw them they were about 15 minutes behind, coming into the first stop of the day just as I was leaving. It just goes to show that sometimes you need to follow your own sense of direction and not be led by the herd. Alone again, and with a chance to better take in the magnificent Cotswold vistas, it wasn’t long before I rolled into the first stop of the day at Snowshill to be greeted with a stupendous spread of cakes and a warm welcome from the lovely ladies manning the checkpoint. A short chat, a hot brew and a massive slice of ginger cake sitting in the sun, did wonders for my morale and as I mentioned earlier, I was just getting up, ready to head back out, when my earlier compatriots rolled in. I wasn’t going to hang around waiting though and pushed on. Snowshill marked the end of the stiff Cotswolds climbs for the time being and the start of what turned out to be a long run on fairly flat roads. Looping up through Gloucestershire and on towards Warwickshire the scenery rapidly changed from rolling countryside to flatter larger fields, accompanied by numerous disused and overgrown small orchards. I guess that there’s just no money in growing small amounts of fruit anymore, with all the big orchards supplying the Cider industry and the majority of our eating apples bought in from overseas. It’s a massive shame really, as you just don’t see the traditional English Apple varieties very often these days. Blenheim orange, Worchester Permain, Christmas Pippin, Cox’s Orange Pippin, Egremont Russet, all replaced by the ubiquitous Braeburn and Pink lady. Oh well, that’s progress for you! Reminiscing about apples isn’t getting this ride done though, although to be honest there’s very little to tell you about on this middle section. 100km of flat, easy riding, though some lovely little villages, on well surfaced roads, only broken up by a very short stop for a “Proof of Passage” receipt stop at Hanbury. Where I acquired a delicious homemade Cheese and Bacon Quiche. I’ll confess that a Quiche isn’t the easiest thing to stow in a saddle bag, but it survived well enough, until I found a nice secluded spot in the sun to stop for lunch. The easy riding can’t last forever though, and coming out of the next checkpoint at Wellesbourne my legs were in for a rude awakening, with the climb back up onto the Cotswolds escarpment and a return to the hilly terrain beckoning as we made our way slowly back towards Bourton-on-the-Water and eventually back to the start. There was plenty of work to be done before getting back to the start though, and I’ll confess that at times, as I struggled up some of the long steep climbs that confronted us, that I cursed the previous flat 100km for luring me into a false sense of security. Climb, descend, climb, descend and repeat for what seemed like an eternity, until eventually with 120 miles in my legs I rolled into Bourton-on-the-Water and the final checkpoint for the day. Normally 120 miles would pretty much mark the end of the days efforts, but not today, oh no! As I mentioned earlier, todays route was somewhat over length for 200Km, coming in closer to 220 (140 miles in proper money) so there was still a way to go. A quick petrol station sandwich to tide me over, and onwards, through the final climbs of the day and eventually onto the long slow descent back to the start and a warm welcome. And a warm welcome back it was too, greeted not only with a hot brew, but a bowl of amazing spicy bean chilli too. Just what the doctor ordered after a long day out. 140 miles through some of England’s green and pleasant countryside in the early Autumn sunshine, on some beautiful, smooth and traffic free roads (Ok there were a few potholes around, but no where near as many as down this way). A big old bit of cake, a tasty bit of Quiche and some home-made bean chilli. You’ve got to be doing something right when that’s how you get to spend your weekends haven’t you?
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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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