Rode with Redlight OTP for much of the time as far as Wingham but didn't see him after that until I got back to the finish. I'll let him tell the story...
It'll take me a while to live this weekend down. To provide some context - I had planned to join the Night Ride to the Coast out to Whitstable on Friday evening but a mix-up over the rendezvous time at Greenwich left me fruitlessly trying to catch up with the group which was already an hour ahead, despite not being entirely sure which route they were taking. A puncture on the dirt track that is laughably called NCN1 alongside the River Cray added to my lateness and I eventually gave up just after Dartford and meandered home with my tail, metaphorically, between my legs, 80km done around the less attractive outreaches of SE London, but looking forward to a more successful day out yesterday.
The ride started badly as I had a protracted fight with my (still relatively new to me) Garmin, meaning that I was barely a kilometre from the start 20 minutes after everyone else had disappeared into the distance, but I managed to get my pace up, pass a few riders and hooked up with Citoyen somewhere near Kingswood. A little further on, he pointed out that one of the side pockets of my Carradice was undone and, stopping to close it, I noticed that my pen had fallen out somewhere along the way. It was only when we got to the second control at Wingham, where I was planning to buy a snack, that I realised that my wallet had gone with it.
As I contemplated attempting to continue the ride with no money to buy food along the way, my phone pinged with a text message from an unknown number. My wallet had been found by someone out walking his dog in Lughorse Lane, a notoriously rough stretch of single track just past Yalding that we had passed through just 9km from the start. He'd be home all afternoon if I'd like to pop in a collect it.
I decided to abandon the ride and head back to Yalding, navigating from village to village, relying on my memory of riding the earlier version of the MoK route that didn't include the loop up to Faversham.
My memory is not that good.
Cutting a long, and meandering, story short, a few hours, two replaced inner tubes and one replaced front tyre later, I found myself hurtling back down Hunton Hill towards Yalding. My energy level was about as low as it could get - not helped by the long, long, drag up to Charing along the way - and I was beginning to feel light headed and slightly disoriented. The man with the wallet lived at the Yalding end of Lughorse Lane. I collected it with excessive gratitude and set off again. Here, my brain turned to mush. Instead of riding down the hill into Yalding, I headed back along Lughorse Lane, following the outbound route again. I realised this at Hunton Hill, and descended once again into Yalding. A voice in my head was telling me that we had passed through Wateringbury on the way out so I followed the signs for that. Except we hadn't, so when I got there I was even more confused.
A group of four riders passed me. One had a saddlebag - they must be on the ride, I thought, so I followed them. At the first junction, they turned towards Maidstone. I was alert enough to realise that couldn't be right as the opposite direction was signposted Tonbridge, which I knew to be in the general vicinity of the Arrivee. A horrible ride down the A26 took me to Hadlow, at which point I spotted a sign for Golden Green just a mile and a quarter away. I think it was about 5.30 when I rolled in, muttering nonsensically, and finally got some food inside me. A little while later, in came Citoyen, who was polite enough not to look too surprised to see me there before him
.
So, a weekend of failed rides. But I console myself with the knowledge that, despite DNF the 200, I still somehow ended up riding 182km on the day, which meant that it was worth getting out of bed in the first place.
My next ride may be in a velodrome. Can't get too lost there...
