So today’s point of interest was Denver, just outside Downham Market in south-west Norfolk. The route seemed to offer a good fenland riding experience: long straight roads across flat plains at sea level. There was also the prospect of riding alongside one of the major rivers in the Fens, the Great Ouse, on what looked to be a quiet minor road. Thereafter my chosen route took me through an area of south Norfolk I have rarely ridden in, and then back onto more familiar territory.
Arriving at the Fenland frontier I was greeted by the first landmark feature: a road which disappeared into the distance. Later, a look at the map showed that it went arrow straight for just under 4 miles, starting at 10 feet above sea level and finishing exactly at sea level. Conditions were ideal: no wind, clear blue skies and cool temperatures. Riding this on a windy or hot day would be a real test. As I rode along, a few things struck me. The scale of the landscape was immense and almost impossible to describe. I could literally see for miles and miles in every direction. The road ran along an embankment a few feet above the surrounding fields, which added to the views. This was intensive farming country with a wide range of crops such as wheat, oilseed rape, peas, leeks and onions being grown. The rich black soil points to the fertility of the area.
I noticed quite a few fields had machines, shelters and portable floodlights that were obviously there to support the crop harvesting work. What did surprise me was how shabby many of the farmyards were. Several were derelict and full of abandoned machines and scrap metal. And I saw quite a few houses that were little more than shells. I guess it’s all about money here: if it doesn’t pay, it doesn’t stay.
After a quick spurt up the main A10 road I reached Ten Mile Bank and then had a delightful ride along the side of the River Great Ouse until I reached Denver Sluice where I crossed back over the river. Getting across waterways in the Fens is not always as straightforward as you might hope. Denver, which was a rather nondescript place, had its own take on clubbing with a rowing club, a sailing club and a golf club. The only notable feature that I could see was that it was the birthplace (1756) of Captain George Manby who, amongst other things, invented the first proper fire extinguisher. There’s a blue plaque on the outside of the house he was born in. I had hoped to get a photo of the village sign so that I could show I’d been to Denver. But I couldn’t find one. (I’ve subsequently worked out where I need to go, so look out for an update in due course.) And if, like me, you’re wondering if the ‘other’ Denver is named after this place, I can tell you that it’s not. Denver, Colorado is named after a nineteenth-century American politician.
Sunday 22 May 2016, 103 Miles
Boudicca Sportive (C#15)
The explosion in the popularity of cycling in Britain has over recent years seen a huge growth in the number of sportives that are organised round the country. Sportives aren’t races in the conventional sense; they are more a personal challenge against the clock. Riders often aim to achieve their best time for a given distance or achieve a new personal best distance. And many riders just want to have an enjoyable day out. A typical sportive provides three riding options: a short route (30‒40 miles), an intermediate route (60‒75 miles) and a long route (100 miles plus).
Sportives are very popular with charities as they provide an excellent opportunity for fundraising. Indeed, several charities organise their own events to support their fundraising strategies. Other events are organised by cycling clubs or by companies who run them as a business. Sportives can cater for just a few hundred riders or several thousand. They are normally run on open roads with cars and pedestrians around, so the rules of the Highway Code (should) apply.
Although a sportive isn’t a race, that doesn’t mean that there aren’t any wannabe Bradley Wiggins or Chris Froome types taking part. Quite the opposite. And some folk post very fast times. I always enjoy looking at other people’s kit, from the latest high-tech bike to the full-on replica team clothing. And there doesn’t seem to be any relationship between the speed and ability of riders and the quality and value of their kit. Quite the opposite: it’s not uncommon for me to spot someone riding a state-of-the-art full carbon-frame bike with electronic gears and disc brakes, wearing a top Continental trade team’s full kit, and pedalling along at a moderate pace. Whatever makes you happy!
Today I rode the Boudicca Sportive, which is a fairly small local event organised by a couple of folk and their company, Push Sport. The entry field is restricted to 600 for the three routes. This is the fourth year I’ve ridden it and I always enjoy it, which is why I keep coming back. The ambience is very friendly, it’s almost a social ride but with the opportunity to up the pace if desired. Yes, there can be a competitive edge amongst some riders, but the majority seem to be there to enjoy a great day out riding with friends old and new. And today’s ride was certainly no exception: a great route, well waymarked and three excellent feed stations (mmm, those fig rolls). Kind weather was a bonus too. The ride lived up to my expectations and I enjoyed a great day in the saddle. So I say ‘Chapeau!’ to Sara and Tim who work incredibly hard behind the scenes to make it all possible for riders like me to enjoy ourselves.
Boudicca was Queen of the Iceni, an East Anglian tribe in Roman times. In about AD 60 Boudicca led a revolt against the Romans and destroyed Colchester. She then went on to attack London and St Albans, both important Roman locations. It is estimated that 70,000‒80,000 Roman soldiers were killed by Boudicca’s warriors in the three cities. This made Nero, the Roman Emperor, consider withdrawing all his Roman forces from Britain. However, the Roman forces regrouped and eventually defeated Boudicca at the Battle of Watling Street.
And a little postscript. As someone who’s an experienced century rider and trying to complete sixty this year I was reminded how significant a milestone riding this distance is. As I was waiting to get a recovery drink at the finish I got chatting to the rider next to me. It transpired that this was the first century ride he had done, and he was euphoric about it. So ‘Chapeau!’ to my fellow rider; I hope this is the first of many you enjoy. See you next year? I had a small celebration as well. Finishing the Boudicca meant that I had got a quarter of my centuries in my musette.
9. MEMORIES AND MILESTONES
Saturday 28 May 2016, 100 Miles
The Durham Dynamo and A Ride Down Memory Lane (C#16)
So far all of my century rides have been in East Anglia where I now live. I was keen to ride in other parts of the country too, especially in places where I have lived and worked in the past. A couple of months ago while surfing the Interweb I spotted a new sportive which was routed around south Durham. Between 1987 and 1992 I lived in Wolsingham at the bottom of Weardale on the edge of the North Pennines. This seemed like too good an opportunity to miss, especially as the route almost went past the front door of my former house. I decided to make a long weekend of it by combining the riding with visits to a few friends.
I headed up the A1 on Friday afternoon with my satnav telling me that the 200-mile journey to Darlington should take just over three hours; it actually took closer to five with a lengthy delay in South Yorkshire. Consequently, I arrived at the Travelodge I had booked into feeling rather less relaxed than I had intended. No matter, I was soon checked in and my Infinito was safely stored in my room. Now a Travelodge may be a basic place to stay, but one great advantage is that there is no problem with storing the dearly beloved Bianchi in the bedroom. The person who checked me in was very keen to help by holding doors open, operating the lift to my room on the third floor, and admiring my Infinito.
I was up early on Saturday morning and wolfed down my self-catered breakfast of fruit juice, muesli and tea before riding over to the start at Darlington Rugby Cub just over a mile away. This sportive, the Durham Dynamo, is part of the Super Series organised by UK Cycling Events (UKCE) and sponsored by Wiggle, a big Interweb-based cycling equipment supplier. Unlike last Sunday’s Boudicca, the UKCE events have a rather more businesslike
feel to them. But that doesn’t mean they are any less fun. I was quickly through the signing-on process and was soon at the start line ready to set off with the first wave of riders.
A short briefing, and we were away. Initially, the route headed north west from Darlington towards the Pennines. With a very gentle tailwind I was making excellent progress at an average speed close to 20 mph. Gradually I could see the ground rising with more and more uphill stretches. But nothing steep, mind you. I then turned north and was soon at the first feed station. With a quick drink and a couple of pieces of banana inside me I was ready to get going again. From the route map I was very conscious that the next 35-mile leg was going to be the tough one. With a couple of short but very sharp 20 per cent climbs my legs were soon singing. My approach on climbs like these is to get into a low gear early on and spin my way upwards for as long as possible, before getting out of the saddle and forcing myself over the top of the climb. One of the riders I was following had a different strategy and rode in a very high gear until he was virtually unable to turn the pedals any more. At this point he opted to change to his lowest gear, with disastrous results. A sickening crunch and an agonizing shout were the fanfare for a broken chain and a cyclist lying on the roadside. I bet he doesn’t do that again!
Once over the initial climb the full splendour of the North Pennines should have been visible. Unfortunately, low cloud rather limited the view to only a few miles. For the next 10 miles or so we went up and down before a very steep twisting descent into Wolsingham, where a couple of friends were waiting to cheer me through. Then it was along Weardale for a few miles to Frosterley to reach the foot of the day’s big ascent. The climb rises about 1,100 feet over about 5 miles. Apart from a short stretch near the start, the climb isn’t particularly steep, just long and made harder by a very heavy road surface which almost felt like trying to ride through treacle. Well, that’s how the guy I was riding alongside at this point described it, so I was glad it wasn’t just me. By now the cloud had lifted, and despite an overcast sky the views were stunning.
The North Pennines have been described as England’s last wilderness. They are a land of mountains and moors with secret valleys and fragments of ancient woodland. The character of the moors is largely defined by sheep grazing, with the heather managed for grouse shooting. The immense scale of the landscape is breathtaking. Reassuringly, very little has changed since I was last here about 25 years ago. I noticed there were a lot more birds of prey, and I heard the cries of a couple of buzzards. That’s one of the great benefits of riding: you notice so much more than in a car. I would have loved to have been able to stop to see and hear more but unfortunately the clock was ticking.
The descent into Teesdale was great. With a wide road and little traffic I picked up speed considerably; the rough surface tempered this somewhat though. In a few short minutes all the height I had spent nearly half an hour winning had been wiped away as I approached Middleton-in-Teesdale. From then on it was back to flatter and more pastoral countryside as we headed back towards Darlington.
I was watching my Garmin closely as we approached the finish, as I reckoned it would be a close run thing to top the 100-mile threshold: 99.9 miles doesn’t count as a century ride! But I needn’t have worried as the organisers had looped the approach to the finish with a circuit around the car park. I stopped my Garmin as I crossed the finish line with 100.2 miles on the clock. And my riding time on the clock was 5 hours 58 minutes, which I was pleased with. In the final reckoning I achieved a gold standard award.
I really enjoyed the day and I was reminded how much I miss the hills, living in the relative prairies of East Anglia. The North Pennines have a character of their own, which I struggle to describe but always enjoy absorbing, if you get my drift. So much so that I returned for a further fix the next day. But that’s another story.
Wednesday 8 June 2016, 101 Miles
Searching for a Cowboy (C#17)
Today I was on a bit of a mission! When planning a ride I usually try to include a specific focal point: a place to visit, or a new bit of countryside, or sometimes a curiosity. Well, today my ride achieved all three of these goals. My main objective was to find a rather unusual sculpture that I had spotted a couple of years ago. A bit of research on the Interweb helped me to pinpoint its location. So that became my initial goal. Plotting the route gave me the chance to include a few new lanes, and as it was a lovely sunny day I intended to ride out to the coast at Aldeburgh as well.
So, under a fresh blue sky with warming sun and a nice gentle breeze I headed east towards the coast, passing through Framlingham and then past that wonderful crinkle crankle wall at Easton (C#8, 11 April). I was soon beyond the A12 and into countryside that really did have a coastal feel to it. Everywhere felt and looked fresh; has our long-overdue summer really arrived? I do hope so; the heavy grey overcast skies and northerly winds have been a feature of our weather for far too long. And besides, riding under clear skies with the swish of rubber on warming tarmac is just the best way to cycle!
Arriving at a bustling Aldeburgh I turned to ride parallel to the coast towards Thorpeness with the House in the Clouds (I will write about this on another ride) and Sizewell Power Station (I won’t be writing about this) on the horizon. When I reached Thorpeness (about 50 miles from the start) it was pretty warm so I stopped at the village shop for an ice cream and a cold drink. The woman running the shop asked where I had come from, and then gave me what can only be described as an unbelieving stare which brought any attempt at further conversation to a rapid end!
Feeling refreshed, I headed off to Leiston and then on to Middleton, where I hoped to complete my mission. Sure enough, as I approached Middleton there he was: a magnificent and slightly larger than life steel cowboy! But there was more to come, because by chance his creator, Paul Richardson, happened to be there unloading a mini digger. So introductions were made and Paul told me a bit of the background: the cowboy was originally displayed on the platform at Manningtree railway station, with an American Indian sculpture on the opposite platform. Paul said I was welcome to have a look around his yard at some of the other sculptures there, including the Indian. And what a delight they were! There’s lots more information about Paul and his work on his website.32 So thanks, Paul, for some great work and the chance to see it.
I could easily have lingered longer but I needed to get under way again before my legs seized up! From Middleton it was an easy spin across to Dunwich, which is gradually disappearing under the sea (I’ll be back here to look around a bit more). From Dunwich I turned westwards for the ride home. And along the way I rode along some lanes that were new to me. All too soon though, I was back across the A12 and into the heart of Suffolk, with a great ride home via Stradbrooke, Hoxne and Eye.
What an enjoyable day!
Saturday 2 July 2016, 100 Miles
The Tour De Brecks (C#18)
It’s been nearly four weeks since my last century ride. Maybe you’re wondering: why the gap? Well, two reasons. First, the weather has been lousy, and this coupled with a heavy cold that I’ve been struggling to shake off has clipped my riding somewhat. I’ve actually ridden about 600 miles in the interim, but sadly no centuries. The other reason is that I have been away walking. Some of my more full-on cycling mates describe this as a betrayal and a crossing over to the dark side. Well, everyone is entitled to their view.
The walking is a long-term thing. Together with a close friend, who I first met 40 years ago at university, we are trying to walk the South West Coast Path from Minehead to Poole, some 630 miles. We started in 2005 and have walked for one week every year since, with a couple of gaps. We have now completed just over 500 miles and this year arrived at Budleigh Salterton, a few miles east of Exmouth. Speed of travel is not a consideration. Instead, it is much more about a series of strolls, sometimes over some pretty testing terrain, during which we try to soak up the local landscapes and lifestyles, and
enjoy a few beers and some curries. And I can report that we have certainly done a lot of ‘soaking’ and had vast quantities of ‘enjoyment’. Anyway, enough of this walking malarkey, back to the bike.
Today was the first stage of the 2016 Tour de France so it seemed entirely appropriate to go on my own tour: a Tour de Brecks. With the sun shining at last and a rather strong wind which made me wonder if this really was a good day for a century ride, I was off and riding. The route I followed took me west initially and then I turned north through Thetford Forest (tailwind – yippee) before skirting the edge of the fens and into Norfolk, a few miles south east of Kings Lynn.
I rode through Methwold and Northwold. Quite a few place names hereabouts end in ‘wold’, which made me wonder why. Now this might sound a bit sad, but I possess a dictionary of British place names. Methwold is ‘Middle Forest’ and Northwold – well, you don’t need me to tell you. Intriguingly, the road I followed out of Northwold was called Little London Road. Giggle tells me that Little London is a village in Hampshire, so it’s anyone’s guess why there should be a road to it from here. Answers, as always, on a postcard please.
From Northwold it was a pleasant if unremarkable ride through the heathy Brecks back into Suffolk, and then a gentle meander round the lanes to clock up the necessary miles and complete the century. Oh, and the final highlight? Mark Cavendish won the first stage of the Tour de France and the right to wear the famed yellow jersey. Yay!
Wednesday 6 July 2016, 105 Miles
Orford Ness – the Other Way with a Tyre Challenge (C#19)
Up early and ready to do one of my favourite rides this morning, to the Suffolk Coast and Orford Ness. The lure of those Oscar-winning doughnuts is simply too hard to resist! Between spring and autumn I usually try to do this once a month, but this year I have only ridden down there twice so far (C#3, 23 March and C#11, 5 May). So off I went under a sky that promised (hopefully) some sun as the morning developed.
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