A great day out at the Southern Shires yesterday. Although, I might not have said that last night after what was a hard day out.
I'm quite happy to admit that I struggled with this one, both mentally and physically. The 22:00 start was different, but worked quite well for me. Getting me back to the finish in time for bed and leaving today free for pottering around. Although I'm pretty sure that I shouldn't have driven home last night in my tired state.
By the time we set off the afternoons rain had cleared, leaving a dry, but cold night. The climbs through the South Downs seemed quite benign on the way out, and I made good time to Hungerford where an ATM reciept provided proof of passage.
More climbing in the dark along narrow, gravelly, country lanes, during the next section required a bit of extra concentration, and a number of people apparently punctured on some serious potholes on the way out of Lambourne, which I luckily managed to avoid.
The smell of bacon heralded the second control long before it was visible. But eventually, like some alien spaceship dropped randomly into the misty night it hove into view. Parked neatly on the roadside engulfed in the damp mist. The offer of a brew and bacon butty was very welcome and provided a massive morale boost, whilst reviving a bit of feeling in my cold fingers and filling my empty belly. (Thank you guys, your efforts were much appreciated on a long, cold, dark night).
With the coming dawn, so the mist descended. Replacing the cold with the damp, but raising the temperature a bit, (which was nice), and the next few miles rolled by uneventfully, apart from having to dismount and push the last few meters of the endlessly steep hill which heralds Daventry (I'm not proud).
Disappointingly, the Subway was closed which thwarted my breakfast plans. Crisps and a Wispa provided a healthy alternative though, and I was soon on my way again, passing a few riders still heading North as I headed South.
By mid morning the mist had burned off and the sun was trying valiantly to make an appearance. I was starting to feel the effects of the lack of sleep though, and by the time I reached Thame my day was becoming a bit of a slog.
Sausage and chips sitting in the sun at Thame revived my spirits a bit and provided some much needed sustenance. But I wasn't really enjoying myself and my heart wasn't really in it either.
Refreshed and revived I pushed on through the afternoon, but, as the day wore on I was starting to struggle. The rough road surface was constantly rattling my fillings and battering my hands and wrists, and I've got the feeling that somehow the route only went uphill, or at least I don't remember ever descending.
In fact, by the time I got to Kingsclere and the final control, I'd really had enough.
Wandering round the shop looking for something to eat and provide a reciept, the only thing that appealed was chocolate Hobnobs, and having wandered round the meagre isles at least a dozen times looking for something healthy and nutritious I gave in to temptation (please don't look badly at me, I know Hobnobs aren't a healthy option for my tea, but sometimes......well).
I spent the final 40 miles feeling sorry for myself, whilst bemoaning the awful chip seal road surface, cursing the endless climbing, and hating bike riding with every ounce of fury I could muster. Oh, and then it rained, adding to my misery!
Eventually though, cold, wet, miserable and tired, I made it back to the start and a strange thing happened.
I parked my bike, I took off my wet jacket, I handed in my brevet, and I instantly forgot all those hard moments. I forgot all those vicious hills that I'd pushed my stupid bike up because I was too tired and demoralised to ride up, I forgot that my hands hurt from the endless jarring potholes, and I forgot that I was wet and cold.
I just rememberd the joy of riding through the dark, the underlying excitement as we all stood ready to depart in the dark, and the shared, often unspoken moments with other riders as we passed on the road. I remembered the first glow of dawn and the birdsong that accompanied it, and the odd glimpse of sunshine. I remembered rolling down the hills with the wind in my face, and I remembered the far reaching views from the hill tops.
Yes it was a hard day out. Probably one of the hardest I've had. But, as my Mum used to say "With struggle comes reward and the bigger the struggle the bigger the reward". Granted in this case the reward was only a warm welcome, a bowl of amazing chilli, and a hot brew, but that was more than enough!
Many thanks to Paul and all his helpers for organising, and to all those of you who I crossed paths with out on the road. It would seem that I had a great day out, despite not realising it at the time.