A ride of one half and two quarters for me.
Arrived to find no card for me. There was a card, but Mark hadnt afixed the label with my details. I found his lack of faith disturbing, but not unreasonable.
Towed all but one person out for the first 7 or so miles at a pace that was certainly not sensible, stopped for a wee, then decided to bury myself to catch up with Sue and another rider (Cotswold jersey). Caught them after that bloody steep and long hill near Willersley, then clung on for a high speed blast on that shitty main road to Daventry. Actually it wasn't too bad this year, because we were in a group of three moving at 20-25mph. Cotswold rider got away from me again and I decided to shred my legs to catch up...which I did. Arrived at 11am, 20 minutes before control officially opened. Far too fast for my current parlous state of fitness.
Cafe Roso was great, as usual, but starting off after lunch I quickly realised that my ride plan to go far too fast then blow up spectacularly has succeeded. I crawled at about 12mph with a shit headwind blowing in my ears and making me drop my head which gave me neck ache.
I stopped after 12 miles, sat down on some grass and fired up the smart phone. Google maps said Banbury station was a mere 8 miles away. Great. The afternoon was looking up. Trainline.com (my homepage) was clicked open and I entered details of Banbury to Ashchurch for Tewkesbury.
Click.
Shit shit shit. Two hours and fifty minutes, £43, two changes. I was hating every yard of the road but even so. Click on the connections. Birmingham New street! No way!! No way am I going anywhere where men with pointy salon haircuts, tattoos and plucked eyebrows say "Orlroight me duck" to each other.
It was going to have to be back on the bike and what looked like a painful slog.
After about twenty years, I rolled into Chipping Norton, and the Old Mill cafe with the same eternally chirpy guy behind the counter. He looked slightly strangely at me but I knew it was because my eyes were swivelling about a bit. Maybe he looks like that at every audaxer. Millionaire shortbread and a coffee. Known worldwide for its restorative effects.
And lo. On departure, I flew up the rise out of Chipping Norton, ready to give the finger should I have an encounter with Jeremy Clarkson or our sweaty gammon-faced former PM. Onwadds and upwards, enjoying myself whilst not quite sure how long the millionaire shortbread would last. The miles passed, only broken up by a series of identical climbs near Guiting Power. I grinned as I took that left turn onto the long single track that leads to the level crossing, knowing that my fears of a 9pm arrivée were a distant memory. I pulled up into Tewksbury at about 5.20pm, perversely disappointed that the ride was over. No time for a beer with Mark unfortunately this time, which means I'll have to get it right and finish by 4.30 next time.
