This year I decided to break the 3Down route check into two - two thirds, Pangbourne to near Basingstoke one weekend, the start and finish the following one.
So, on Saturday I sat down with Google Maps to plan. The minimum distance of the route to be checked was around 187kms. Limited train options on a Sunday morning meant with a start from Reading and adding 2-3kms at the end around Basingstoke, I could have a 200DIY and Routecheck in one go. Taking the car to start earlier, I set off from Reading just after 8am.
It started off a dull, cool day with a light tailwind, Pangbourne, the ride's first control was reached in about 30 minutes and now I was on the 3 Down route. The café stop has changed hands since the last 3Down, but not needing food, I decided to leave introducing myself until the second check. Knowing the route too well, I sailed past three of the first half dozen routesheet points without checking whether the signage on the road matched the routesheet, so each time I had to spin round and check. The lesson was eventually learned. Arriving at a dip before Stanford Dingley where the road was flooded, I carried on - deep enough to get my feet sprayed, shallow enough not to cover the bottom bracket - unlikely to be there in a month so nothing to note. A few kms further on, a sign had changed and I spotted a significant error in the incrementing distance - something to correct at last.
It was a pleasant ride with an increasing tailwind and I was quickly in Whitchurch, where I stopped to flip the routesheet and tighten up a loose mudguard stay. Then it was down the Test Valley, one of my favourite stretches of the ride – it is fairly flat with a winning landscape of woodland, wetland and rustic villages. I arrived at the Kimbridge control, way earlier than on previous checks. About a hundred yards before its entrance I heard the car behind me hoot - I turned ready to snarl, thinking it was at me, but it was for an Audi sports car overtaking it on a road that was barely two car widths wide with another car coming in the opposite direction. It swerved to avoid the oncoming car right in front of me. I was surely joined by the two other drivers in mouthing obscenities at the idiot. Once in Kimbridge, I bumped into Alun, its manager, discussed arrangements for 6th April, then looked for a place to sit and grab a bite. The penny dropped - Mother's day and not an unreserved seat in the house! Alun very kindly arranged a sandwich and a coffee for me though, which I scoffed standing.
The short stretch over to the New Forest consists of small steep wooded hills with a suburban sprawl where most of the "farms" are scruffy horse places (I am not selling the ride here – most of it is really nice, honest!). Every time I do it, I find it wearing and this time was no exception. Next is a sharp little climb onto the New Forest Plateau and now the tailwind is ferocious (far more likely to be a headwind on the event). I was getting up to 40kph on the flat without effort - great - but I was conscious I had to come back. Animals range free here and in Godshill I had to slow right down for a herd of bullocks, most of whom seemed to be taking a communal pee in the road, and a gang of ponies following them. I managed to slip through - the car that had been right behind me must have been caught several minutes. A lightning stop for chocolate milk at the garage in Fordingbridge, around 105km into the ride and then the turn south along the western edge of the forest, roads full of mountain bikers in anoraks and more herds of ponies. For the first time I have ridden here, there was water in the fords, but they were negotiable.
Next was the dreaded turn into the headwind. Not too bad at first as the woodland and the folds of the landscape block the worst. I stopped in Linwood to check the Info control and found myself surrounded by runners on an event - a tough one by the looks on their faces. Finally back on top. Now it is nasty - 16-17kph tops in the unrelenting headwind and my heart rate up to 80% of max. While nowhere else is quite as exposed, the slightly shorter return portion takes nearly two hours longer than the outward ride. The fact that I’ve not ridden more than 70k in one day for five months catches up with me and I find I need to stop for several breathers and food breaks. Climbing to Sparsholt, the other Info control, the snow flurries started.
I ploughed on to Alresford and arrived about 6pm, just as it was getting dark. While there is a choice on Saturdays, the event day, on Sunday evenings the only place is Tesco Express. Am I the only person to be slightly depressed at the sight of one appearing to be the heart of the community - there was a continual coming and going of cars and people? Whatever: 2 chocolate milks and a battery change later I was on my way and it was now just about dark.
The route to Basingstoke is mainly two long gentle climbs punctuated by a couple of down-hills. At around zero degrees with a howling headwind, the exposed part of my face was freezing, but the climbing, ski gloves, with thinner gloves underneath, four layers on my feet and 6 layers round my trunk kept me well clear of hypothermia. It was just a slow grind using the hedgerows for shelter as best I could. I made an en-route executive decision to cut one very marginal but rather crappy short cut. A salt-gritter passed the other way - the first ever time for me on a bike. I was glad of the wraps protecting my eyes as crystals up to an inch across bounced around me. For the first few kms, before car tyres had ground them down, though, my headlight picked out the crystals and made them look like diamonds - or at least something from a Disney World grotto.
I reached the point to turn off the route and make up the 200K DIY. OK until I was through Old Basing, then I hit the hell that is Basingstoke. In the dark, with no knowledge of the place and just the GPS for navigation, it was dual carriageways, intersections and roundabouts till I finally arrived at the station. I had finished - 205km in 12 hours. I bought my ticket back to Reading and with plenty of waiting time went to look for a coffee. I found one - the best I can say is that it was hot.
Back at Reading my fingers got so cold at the end of packing away the bike, I couldn’t undo my helmet clasp until I was a couple of miles into the drive home. I was so tired that when I went to sleep I apparently spent 15 minutes entertaining my wife by loudly swearing at random.
But, riders, you will have up-to-date instructions.