Passione Celeste

by Mark Pritchard

  Gog and Magog first appear in the Bible. Some even claim that the ancient city of Troy was located in the Gog Magog Hills. Perhaps not surprisingly, those who claim this tend to be derided. The ‘hills’ rise to a maximum height of about 250 feet. We’re not talking of categorised climbs here. But just enough elevation to break up the ride and add interest to the landscape.

  From Fulbourn and with a slight tailwind I had a fast run back to Gareth’s house to find him awake and wrestling with an Interweb malfunction. He assured me that he hadn’t been sleeping when I left this morning. He claimed that he did his best business planning in the morning, in bed, with his eyes shut. I’ll believe you, Gareth…

  Saturday 29 October 2016, 101 Miles

  Up to Keswick and Back Home the Long Way (C#53)

  A couple of weeks ago I was killing time in the coffee shop of my local Waterstones bookshop. I quite like it in there because they usually have a selection of books lying about which I can browse while sipping my cappuccino. Now the best bit is that the books available are sometimes ones which wouldn’t usually appear on my radar. It can be an interesting experience to turn the pages of something totally new. I’ve often wondered who decides what books get scattered across the coffee shop. Are they ones that the publisher is pushing? Or maybe they’re books that are not selling well. I like to think that the staff are given the freedom to put out whatever they want. I say this because, in my experience, the people who work in bookshops tend to have bit of a spark – personality and character – which is sadly becoming a rare trait with many shop workers who often seem to struggle to even make eye contact with the customer, let alone have an interesting conversation. And I’m hoping this is why I regularly have quite an esoteric selection to choose from. This seems to me an entirely reasonable explanation as to why titles like ‘Cabin Porn’ (Zach Klein; haven’t got it, haven’t read it), ‘Free at Last’ (Tony Benn; got it, haven’t read it yet), ‘The Big Sleep’ (Raymond Chandler; got it, read it, excellent) and ‘Slaying the Badger’ (shouldn’t need to explain this one to any cyclists) rest alongside each other on the window ledges next to the tables.

  Anyway, the reason for this little discourse is that the book that caught my eye was ‘Small Churches’ by Dixe Wills, who I discovered has made quite a career out of writing about small, quirky things. Opening the book, I found a map of the various churches he’s reviewed so naturally I looked to see if any were near where I live. One church stood out and that quickly became the goal for today’s ride. It was only about 25 miles away so I planned a direct route there and something rather longer and twisting to enable me to bag the century on the return leg.

  I was rolling by 8:45am, with the prospect of a fabulous autumn day ahead of me. Making excellent progress, I soon arrived at my goal: the small hamlet of Keswick. Having been to California for my last century it seemed entirely appropriate to visit another ‘distant’ place. Incidentally I’ve discovered that there are two Keswicks in Norfolk; one more than in the Lake District. The other one is on the coast and maybe I’ll ride over there some day.

  I soon discovered that I wasn’t going to be able to get close up to Dixe’s small church as it’s down a farm track which was sure to risk puncture issues. It was also very muddy and I wasn’t willing to walk and get my cleats clogged up. A shame really, because the church almost looked like a scale model version of Norfolk’s famous round tower churches. It has an interesting history (look it up on the Interweb) but one of the most amusing features is that the legs of the row of pews at the front of the church are hinged. This is because the church used to be so small before an apse was added in 1964, that the only way to turn a coffin around was to fold back the pews! This has the makings of a Carry On film here.

  Leaving Keswick behind me I then rode round the southern outskirts of Norwich, past the impressive Science Park on one side and the university on the other. I was soon back into open countryside and really enjoying the magnificent displays of autumn colour in the hedgerows. This was also countryside that I ride more regularly, and as I reached Great Ellingham I decided to conduct a little investigation.

  I have often passed a building that looks like the home for a telescope. Now we’re not in the same league as Cheshire’s Jodrell Bank or Hawaii’s Mauna Kea. This is Norfolk and the building is on a rather more modest scale. But it does have a domed roof with what looks like a sliding panel, so I was suspected that it housed a telescope. Walking around the outside of the building there was nothing to confirm my suspicions apart from some pretty heavy duty locks on the door. Post-ride research on the Interweb revealed that I was right, there is indeed a telescope within: a 20 inch reflector, whatever that is. The Breckland Astronomical Society hold regular star parties here. If you get bored of browsing Cabin Porn you might like to reserve a place one evening. It seems that space may not be the final frontier hereabouts.

  From Great Ellingham I then headed through Watton to the Brecks and the northern edge of Thetford Forest. Then, turning back eastwards I continued to enjoy the spectacular autumnal display of colour. If anything, the dark green pine trees brought out the subtlety and magnificence of the brown, yellow, orange and gold colours of the deciduous trees. Breathtaking wouldn’t be an overstatement.

  Shortly before reaching Thetford I spotted another of those round tower churches, in Croxton. So I stopped to have a closer look. A helpful information sheet informed me that round tower churches are largely a feature of Norfolk. Of the 185 surviving examples, 124 are in Norfolk. They were mostly constructed by the Anglo-Saxons and opinions vary as to why they are round: perhaps because of a shortage of suitable building materials, or as a defence mechanism against invading Vikings. Several of the towers, as is the case here at Croxton, are topped with an octagonal belfry.

  From Croxton I made good time over the final 20 miles home. As I rode along I couldn’t help thinking how lucky I am to enjoy such marvellous countryside on my rides. The riding itself, on my cherished Bianchis, is a complete pleasure; the surroundings and accidental discoveries along the way are the icing on the cake, so to speak, and one of the reasons why these century rides are so special. ‘Passione Celeste’, readers!

  Sunday 30 October 2016, 103 Miles

  Oltre’s Maiden Century (C#54)

  With the prospect of another dry day I decided to take my new Oltre XR1 out for its first century ride. I got it about one month ago and have been very pleased with the way it has been behaving on its initial short (circa 50 mile) rides, so I thought the time had come to give it a real test. It’s been away for a few days so that Cousin Sean at Madgetts Cycles could do some minor adjustments and give it the once over. These included tweaking the headset, re-indexing the gears and realigning the front derailleur. Now it positively purrs.

  The Oltre is something of a thoroughbred in my Bianchi stable. ‘XR’ stands for Extreme Racing, so you get the idea. Its frame geometry is rather more aggressive than either the Infinito or the Impulso and it has a shorter wheelbase. All this means that it is quick; very quick. Push the pedals hard coming out of a corner or switch to a higher gear, get out of the saddle and give it some welly, and it responds beautifully. I can almost feel the back wheel pushing me forward like the release of a coiled spring. Despite the sharper frame angles, I was pleasantly surprised to discover how comfortable it was over the longer distance. Sure, I can feel the roughness of the road surface a bit more than with the Infinito but not so much that it spoils the ride. In an ideal world I would love to own its big brother, the newly introduced XR4 which comes complete with Bianchi’s vibration-reducing countervail technology, but price-wise it’s a tad beyond what I’m willing to pay. My XR1 is equipped with Campag Chorus gears and brakes together with an SL-K 52/36 chainset and Fulcrum wheels. Taken together they’re a great combination. And I reckon it’s about 15 per cent quicker than the Infinito – even with my ageing legs!

  So today we set off together to ride so
uth-west across Suffolk and then into East Cambridgeshire before heading back north-eastwards to skirt the edge of Bury St Edmunds and thence back home. Within a couple of miles the morning mist had turned to quite dense fog, and fortunately I had brought some lights with me to warn other road users of my presence. Sadly the dense fog was a feature for more than half the ride, which limited what I could see around me. It reminded me a bit of Stage 5 of the Tour of the Pyrenees when I climbed El Canto in the fog on 6 October.

  I spent a large part of the ride just thinking random thoughts, with not much looking around. My thoughts covered quite a lot of ground including what I felt about riding these centuries, why I like Bianchis so much, what could I do to make myself go faster, and so on. Over the year quite a lot of people have asked me quite a lot of questions about the Sixty Centuries Series so I’m toying with pulling together some of the questions and writing them up, with the answers, in a sort of mock interview. But never forgetting that it is the rides that matter, much more so than the rider.

  Passing a rather fine display of autumn colours I thought a photo of the Oltre at work was appropriate. It was also a rare moment when I could see more than 100 yards or so. As I’ve said before, readers, this autumn is really shaping up to be quite spectacular colourwise so let’s hope that the frosts and the winds hold off for a while longer to let the tree and hedgerow leaves do their stuff and put on a good show.

  Among the things that entertain me on my rides are the various village signs that I pass. Some of these are spectacular works of art. They tend to reflect aspects of the history and culture of the village, and it’s quite fun to try and work out the messages that the signs’ images are trying to convey. The sign at Weston Colville, for example, shows that farming is important and also that there’s a cricket club. I’ve learnt that the first recorded match was played here in 1867 when the Weston Colville Thirteen took on Mr Bullock’s Thirteen; Weston Colville won. Often, these signs show the same images on both sides, but Weston Colville bucks the trend and I discovered that there must have been a wartime airfield in the vicinity. Said airfield also housed 2,000 foreign refugees at one time before it was closed and the land returned to farming in 1952. And the adjacent hut, which is signposted as a reading room, invites some more questions. There you are. Even on a foggy day there’s lots to learn while riding around.

  Further along on the ride I reached the village of Ousden which also has a nice sign. And if you’re wondering what the owl signifies, then look no further. Ousden is an old English name, the translation of which is ‘valley of the owl’. Simples! And from a rider’s perspective Ousden also has one other delight, that rare thing in Suffolk: a hill! It’s a little more than one and a half miles long with an average gradient of about 2 per cent. But towards the end there’s a kick-up which touches 10 per cent. According to the Strava Guru I’ve now ridden up it ten times over the last four years. And do you know what? The Strava Guru said that today I achieved my third-best time on the steep bit. In the flatlands of East Anglia I’ll take that! And you see, I told you that the Oltre was fast. Not that I was forcing it!

  Thursday 3 November 2016, 102 Miles

  Orford Again and Always a Delight (C#55)

  Well, if there was any doubt about when autumn would fully arrive, the frosts of the last couple of mornings have dispelled the uncertainties. That said, I do enjoy riding on a cold, clear, crisp morning when the sun is trying to break through the remnants of any overnight mist. And today was just such a day, so it would have been rude not to take advantage of it. And what better way to make the most of the favourable conditions than to go on one of my favourite rides, to Orford. Yes, I know I’ve been there a lot, most recently about two weeks ago. But it is a lovely ride.

  After waking the Infinito from its slumbers we were under way just as soon as the frost showed signs of thawing slightly. At this time of year with the sugar beet harvest in full swing the smaller lanes can be a bit of a nightmare, puncture wise, so we tend to avoid them where possible and stick to B-roads and the wider lanes. If the road surface is wet then the minor lanes really are a no-no. We’ve got to know which lanes are best avoided quite well now.

  Another challenge can be road closures, and today was no exception. Within 2 miles our progress was thwarted by a closure for a bridge repair, and as there was no prospect of shouldering the Impulso and jumping the trench, a detour was necessary. Fortunately, we could see that the road was impassable immediately so didn’t have to engage in any annoying backtracking – we simply turned right instead of going left onto the bridge and added an extra 3 miles on the route. For those readers who like to know about these things, there’s quite a good website (roadworks.org) where the various folk who dig up roads are required to publish information in advance about what’s going on. It is map-based and very easy to use. I mainly use it, when I remember, during the tar and chip season to work out which roads to avoid. Looking at the site when I got home I learned that the bridge was closed last Monday and will be shut for a fortnight. So that’s helpful information to know about.

  Further on in the ride we encountered another closure. Unfortunately, when we arrived at this one we faced having to backtrack about 5 miles with an additional 8 miles or so to get back on the proper route. I guessed the road was being resurfaced in the village that lay about a mile ahead, and decided to chance it. If I was correct then there had to be pedestrian access, which meant we would be able to pass by, cyclo-cross style. Reaching the barriers we discovered that I was right and the guy manning the barriers told us we would be able to get through on the path/pavement. Result!

  Now, readers, if this all seems like I’m making a fuss about not very much then bear in mind that the last thing I want to do near the start of any ride is go on some random safari of the countryside, unless that’s the purpose of the ride. While I do carry some lights with me I really prefer to get back home while I can still see where we are going! My Bianchis are less pernickety and are happy to ride anywhere and are quite relaxed about doing it in the dark.

  I snuck a few changes into the standard route, so instead of going via Saxmundham and Snape, today we went via Wickham Market and Tunstall on the way to Orford. Arriving in Orford we had a quick spin down to the quayside, which was surprisingly busy. Then it was back to the village centre to catch up on recent developments since our last visit on 17 October. Sadly, neither Action Man, with or without his combat boots, nor Miss Moneypenny were anywhere to be seen, so an update on the amorous affairs of Orford will have to await a further visit. Consequently, we headed over to the Pump Street Bakery for you-know-what. I had a very tasty mini-sourdough baguette with ham and a spot of Dijon, while the Infinito had the usual raspberry doughnut, which apparently was still warm.

  Sitting outside the Bakery in the full sun it was surprisingly warm, and we amused ourselves by watching the passing visitors parade around the village square. Peering through the window of the (closed) Butley Orford Oysterage was a particularly popular activity. The Oysterage is up there with the best, as reported in The Times: ‘30 things to eat before you die – Number 15: Fish pie at Butley Orford Oysterage. Great fish pie combines the exotic excitement of seafood – with its evocations of cold, mysterious depths – with the cosy warmth of creamy mash. Here, the pie has the perfect mix.’ The Infinito got quite excited by this and wanted to know how soon we would be coming back.

  With our lunches eaten and the sights, smells and sounds of Orford absorbed, we set off for the return leg, this time following the standard route via Hollesley, Woodbridge and Debenham. Gradually, as the sun dropped towards the horizon, the temperature cooled down and I was very glad of the wind-proofing provided by my (excellent) Castelli Gabba jacket. This is a wonderful piece of clothing, and today, with the average temperature hovering around 5°C, all I needed to wear was a base layer and the Gabba. It’s very popular with professional cyclists, so much so that Castelli used to sell a version complete w
ith a black felt pen to hide the logos for those pros whose team used a different kit sponsor. And yes, eagle-eyed readers, I know that the Gabba has been recently rebranded by Castelli as the Perfetto. And that properly sums up today’s ride – perfetto!

  Tuesday 8 November 2016, 102 Miles

  In Pursuit of Sunshine (C#56)

  Two words in last night’s weather forecast for the East of England caught my ears: ‘snow’ and ‘sun’. The weather folk seem to think there’s a chance of snow hereabouts tomorrow and I hope they’re wrong! But they also said that today it would be ‘warm’ in the sun. Note, they didn’t actually say it would be sunny.

  As I approach the end my Sixty Centuries Series I’ve started to think that it’s a bit like pursuit racing on the track. The finishing line is just a few laps away. The opposition isn’t quite in sight but I can sense they’re there. (My metaphor today for the ‘opposition’ is the sun.) The temptation is to up the cadence, get the opposition in sight and hope I can hold the pace to the line without blowing up. Well, that’s what I’ve been telling myself. Mind you, it’s a very long time since I last rode on a track. I hope to change that early next year, especially if Santa looks kindly on my Christmas list.

  With the possibility of some sun in the home straight I was out of the house and on the Impulso pronto this morning. I had dressed for the occasion, too. Winter bib tights, merino wool base layer, medium-weight fleecy jersey, windproof gilet, winter socks, shoes and overshoes, silk inner gloves and thicker winter outer gloves. All finished off with a thermal skully thingy under my helmet and a pair of daylight-enhancing, yellow-lensed glasses. And by heck, for the first hour or so I was very glad of all this kit. At one point it was so cold that I thought ice crystals were forming in my beard. They weren’t, but it made me feel virtuous to think they were! Overhead the sky was leaden grey and there were traces of some overnight mist lurking in shaded field corners.