by adrian » Mon Feb 26, 2007 2:08 pm
Oh, here you are! I thought it was quiet over on the other thread.
Can't add much to what's already been said about a great ride on Saturday. But you'd expect me to try.
I got to CSS in plenty of time, and, suitably warmed up but not already knackered for a change, then had an excellent ride down to Brighton. I felt good and very much enjoyed our compact (but bijou) group dynamic - present and correct, for the record, were Paul T, Huw, Andrew, Mark McL, Chris, Ray, David and (I think) Simon. The roads were wet and claggy after some hefty overnight rain, and I thought we were certain to have a puncture-flecked day, but Huw seemed to be absorbing them on behalf of everyone.
Apart from one such event and a particularly hairy moment on Slugfest Lane, or whatever it's called, where Chris, I and a couple of others nearly lost it on the bend, it was a pretty smooth and quick trip down and we were soon at Ditchling. It's never something you enjoy, but I got up and over the Beacon without too much gnashing of teeth. At the top, as has been noted, George, Paul H and Alan swelled our number; their appearance, though very welcome as always, put paid to any hopes I'd had of a pain-free punt home...
After a very quick descent into Brighton, there then followed a longish recuperative spell in the cafe. I used the time to neck a fairly parsimonious offering of beans on toast (on the part of the cafe owners, that is - my own contribution to the transaction, £2.20, was more than generous, I felt) and wash my grubby little face.
As soon as the last drop of soup was drained, we were on our way up the London Road, drawing admiring (well, I like to think they were admiring) glances from the good burgers of Brighton. We made a quick fuel stop at the foot of Dyke Road, and in view of what was to follow, thank God we did.
As we turned off the A23 at Pyecombe, the road tilted upwards appreciably, but there was no corresponding reduction in our pace and for the first time that day, I began to struggle to hold on. I saw that one or two others were feeling similarly Hassocksed and at the Ansty turnoff Mark and Alan decided to sit and wait for David before resuming at a more sustainable pace. But 'it's an ill wind that blows no-one any good,' they say, and so it was that Paul H's misfortune allowed us to catch up and reincorporate.
As Ray turned off for Horsham and home, the rest of us headed towards Handcross and the A23. I found this manageable - even enjoyable - until half the group kicked again to draft a bus at Gatwick. This was the last I saw of them. Misery loves company (to use another aphorism), though, and after a pretty dodgy patch on the drag up to Redhill, there was a welcome regroup for the Merstham drag and the subsequent roll into Croydon.
As Mark and I (we were now down to two) steeled ourselves for the ascent of South Norwood Hill, I began to feel more than a little bonky and had to plead for a food stop at a newsagent's. Mark duly obliged, nodding patiently as I warbled incoherently, eyes rolling maniacally, while simultaneously wolfing down two bars of chocolate and a bottle of Lucozade.
Dragged what was left of myself up Ross Road behind a seemingly rejuvenated Mark, all to the accompaniment of the usual howls of disappointment and protest from the adjacent Selhurst Park. I too was home about 4.45 and pleased to have stayed dry.
Was completely worn out and had but foam for legs the next day, but enjoyed the day and am chuffed to have got some long, hard miles in. Cheers Paul for organising and navigating, and thanks to everyone else for an excellent day.
