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Chapter four, The last leg. |
As we left it was already getting light. At the time we all thought we were doing badly as we’d stopped for well over an hour, and we were recognising places that we’d passed in the dark the year before. Our only consolation as we left was that riders were still arriving, we’d made up for the late start. Other than seeing in full daylight the places that last year were just a dark hedge in the pre-dawn mist, the second half of the ride was uneventful. Conversations came and went, introductions were made and coffee stops were welcome. The fact that the food stop was a considerable distance further into the ride than last year helped, the second leg was much shorter. I was pretty surprised at how unaffected I was by the sleep deprivation; I felt fine. I was also pleasantly surprised to find I had kept up with the main pack of the ACF/C+ peleton. Suddenly I realised just how close we were to the end. We pulled into a convenient road on the right for a final refuelling stop, which confused many riders considerably as the route actually took the next left. We stood there like race marshals directing the tired looking riders through. As we left the stop I knew I was in trouble. My legs had seized slightly and I couldn’t hold the peleton’s pace. I needed to ride slowly to warm them up, but the group could smell the seaside. Remembering the location from last year I was surprised to see no warning for a very sandy bend at the bottom of a steep hill. I put on a sprint to catch BentMikey as he’d commented earlier that slippery surfaces were a real hazard to his recumbent; then I dropped back to join the Pike’s tandem where Tim was also struggling with a knee injury. I was pleased to see none of our group in a pile on the bend, but from the marks left behind saw that somebody had been caught out. On the next climb I left the tandem behind and actually caught the group again. My legs were freeing up. I rode a little way behind them keeping pace until I came to a junction I recognised from last year. The route sheet says “left, sp Dunwich”, and implies to take the first left. The actual road is the second left, just around the blind bend. Here I had a choice, accelerate to catch the group, who really had the sea in their nostrils, or wait for the Pikes to make sure they didn’t go wrong. I doubted I could stay with the group if (as they did) they made a mass sprint for the end, so I stopped. I waited. I had a very enjoyable slow ride to the end. Amazingly, considering we were later leaving London Fields, we spent longer stopped at the food break, and I was on the MTB rather than a road bike, I got to Dunwich slightly earlier than last year and in better shape. I wasn’t tired and neither did I ache. Remembering my disappointment over the food last year I didn’t join the queue, I just grabbed a beer from Charlotte’s coach provisions and headed for the beach to watch the ritual swim. It was too cold for me to go in this year. In fact it was so cold that BentMikey came up with the great idea of stealing some extra bubble wrap from the bike wrapping group, and we sat huddled in our insulated blankets sipping beers and exchanging heroic tales. Best of all, the coach (wonderfully organised by Charlotte) was on time and left promptly. The driver was happy to drop me off with a few others, from where I had just a few miles to ride home. I was home and showered not only before the coach arrived in London, but before the main coaches had even left the beach. This was a vast improvement on last year, where I got home nearly twelve hours after arriving at Dunwich. Will I be there next year? Yes I think I will. The ride is great, but has to be undertaken as a self supported ride. It is no good relying on the food stop or official coaches as the whole ride is now too large for them to cope. They do an adequate job of carting the hordes back to London; if you want comfort or speed then organise something yourself. Maybe next year I’ll attempt to ride home as well. Unless Charlotte offers another beer filled coach that is! Many thanks Charlotte, not only for the efficient coach, but also to your Dad for driving the van. |
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