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Worthing Winter Warmer
On Saturday the signs where against us. The wind and
rain was lashing the south east in an all day storm which
told sensible people to stay indoors with a fairy cake
and nice cup of tea. By the afternoon we had resorted to
the careful study of any weather forecast we could find,
hoping against hope that the weather would clear enough
to allow us to peddle round the Worthing Winter Warmer,
our first Audax ride of the season.
We arrived late. No dedicated milling around for us, Oh
no. Bikes off the car, shoes on, cards collected and off
we go into the delightful Sussex countryside. Yesterday's
foul weather had abated giving way to clear skies and a
light wind. We had not ridden an Audax for a long time.
In fact we had not been on road bikes for a long time,
preferring the dirty delights of mountain bikes in the
muddy months. It took a while for us to get used to our
mounts again but before long Man, Woman, Machine and soft
toy where humming along in harmony. We had quickly
settled back into the old routine. Bowling along at a
comfortable pace watching the scenery roll by. A cottage
garden sparking a conversation about our granddad's
allotments. A discussion over the merits of small stone
cottages over small brick cottages. Anything but
mentioning the weather in case that courted disaster.
Slowly the Sussex countryside gave way to surrey
countryside and the shadow of the North Downs.
We had assumed at the start that we would be last on the
road, but no, at a set of traffic lights we where caught
by a small bunch. It was nice to know that we where not
the only Sunday morning slackers taking part. The bad
news was that they knew about the hill. It had to be
steep if it was mentioned on the route sheet but up until
now the way had been wonderfully flat. Not anymore. It
started with a few teasing slopes the slowly increased
the incline until it sharply steepened. Ah yes the trills
of cycling; legs spinning like fury, sweat pouring
profusely and bicycle inching up the incline. Our efforts
where rewarded at the control. A feast of sticky sweet
things had been prepared for our triumphant arrival. We
dined like Kings before reluctantly heaving heavy
stomachs back onto the bike.
The reward for a long climb is a long descent. A very
long descent made faster by the weight of cake we had on
board. For some reason the next hours conversation was
dominated by discussing the relative merits of Stollen
cake (one vote for, one against, and DeDe the soft toy
abstained) which naturally flowed to musings on whether
it was Jan Urlrich's secret weapon or downfall. This lead
to ramblings over a Hollywood dramatisation of last years
tour de France in which Clint Eastwood plays Lance
"make my day" Armstrong and Arnold
Schwazanigger plays Jan "I'll be back" Urich.
Despite the varied and sometimes strange conversations
the second leg seemed to take an age. At first glance the
controls seemed nice distances apart. A long stretch to
the first control shorter to the next and then a dash for
home. But actual distances and perceived distances are
never the same. It could have been the skies clouding
over or the month of post Christmas sloth, or maybe it
was due to the global conspiracy against cyclists which
sees scores of black clad council workers adding miles to
the roads a day before and Audax.
I read somewhere that everybody who tries to make small
talk with the Queen ends up asking after the corgis. The
guys at the control where having a similar "Royal
moment" as everybody had mentioned the rusty bike
dumped in a lay-by a few hundred yards away. Unlike the
Queen they did mention that they had heard this
conversational tit bit a few times before. The wonderful
people who man controls are normally an honest bunch
until it comes to one subject, Hills. So when we where
told that it would be "down hill all the way"
we sensed that there was a nasty surprise waiting for us.
Sure enough just around the corner was a 1 in 6. It was
going down, surly some mistake! Oh yes, what goes down
must come up and within a few hundred yards revenge was
wrought. It was here that I discovered that my pre ride
bike check (wheels - 2, saddle - sharpened, chain -
greasy, etc) should have included "quick release
tightened. A poor excuse to walk but better than none.
There is a point on any ride where you have just had
enough. I'd like it to be at the finish but usually it
somewhere in the last quarter. Today it was at Partridge
Green. The wind was against us and the skies had clouded
over threateningly. The finish seemed unobtainable. It
happens every time. I've been told its character building
but at this rate my character will be a landmark
monolith. Finally Stenying and the prospect of hot soup
hove into view. The end was in sight.
I sat at the table, full of soup and started the mental
post Audax checklist: Legs - heavy, Bottom - Sore, Body -
Tired. Everything was present and correct. It's so good
to start another season with such a fine ride.
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