by Dombo » Mon Jul 02, 2007 2:03 pm
A great day out, although at 07:58:30 point to point and 07:15 on the bike speedo slower than I expected and only marginally quicker than my toil around the Dragon Ride. Traffic jams and food stops did for me.
Having arrived well before my appointed start time, I joined the throng being entertained by the babelicious pro rider Emma D-J who so effortlessly dropped me at the Bwlch summit on the Dragon Ride. Then came the off and a brisk ride through Greenwich and its picturesque environs, latching onto various stronger riders as we headed out of London.
First feed stop was a little early, and followed after 10 miles by another where I scarfed down some malt loaf, sadly lacking butter, filled the bottles and watered the nettles.
Sad to say that after 120 miles I still have no idea where we were at any point, being focussed on the wheels or road ahead. I know it rained at 30-odd miles near a castle by a river just before a short savage climb that had a few people walking. Many on smarter bikes and looking more the part than me in my mtb shoes astride the Lemond.
Then it was more climbing up some lanes and interesting descents in blinding rain. By this time I was effectively on my own, catching tows whenever fast individuals or groups passed me, ever wary that the discipline and bike handling/awareness of our club runs was often lacking.
The halfway point was a welcome sight, especially as I had somehow thought the ride was 120 miles and speedo now showed only mid-50s, then came more hills and foodstops. Interestingly, although I passed many riders on the hills, a lot of them caught me downhill and on the flats, so my technique or lack thereof definitely needs working on.
Then some pretty, but traffic-clogged villages where the locals had kindly come out to cheer us on. One narrow downhill stretch of Somewhereorotherhurstden High Street in particular should prove a laugh for the pros next Sunday, with speed bumps along its length.
Some kind folk at Altingdon (20 miles to go) had set up stalls with water and fruit loaf, most welcome before the final stretch. This I could now relate directly to my commute from Coulsdon to Canary Wharf, ticking off the miles with imaginary points on my route; the Ponds of Thornton Heath and the rolling hills of Streatham and Brixton the equivalent in my imagination of pretty Kent villages in distance if nothing else.
Finally came a fast straight downhill to Canterbury for 10 or so miles, only a bee flying into one of the vents on my helmet serving to take the edge off my excitement.
De-hatting at 30mph, waving helmet around to release said bee and then re-donning headgear, all while controlling the bike one-handed, would have been worthy of Jacques Tati or, for my younger readers, Mr Bean.
Composure regained I caught some other riders and our mini-peloton rolled into Canterbury, pleased to be waved through a red light by a couple of that city's finest, but nevertheless wary they may be seeking to fill that day's quota of RLJ-ers en bloc by simple entrapment.
The final stretch was lined with well-wishers, then a quick double bleep, off with the chip and onto the bus, with 100-odd grand's worth of bikes bouncing around in the back of the following truck.
Definitely on for next year, and perhaps even the Real Etape. But when I'm much older so I have an excuse for a slow time.
Early to bed. Into work:
"How was your weekend? Do anything exciting?"
"I rode Stage One of the Tour de France"
"Oh".
I was comfortable on the flatter bits but the effort wa beginning to tell on the climbs, where my heart rate was getting dangerously high just hanging on to them I eased back, and got back to them a couple of times on the other side, but was reallt putting in too much effort to maintan for 6 hours. Chapeau guys, you really deserve it 
)
). It makes for quite a funny sight watching people wrestling full on hardcore TT bikes with disc wheels and huge gears up it. 
