2014-04-26 London to Bath (Not a TNRC Affair)

The Guinness ride was great. Perhaps too good, nearly resulted in me swapping a ride to Bath in favour of tea, despair and Saturday afternoon telly, but my resolve was strong. My organisation less so. Packing with an eye on the clock totally overloaded me remaining meagre brain resources. Jersey pockets or saddle-bag, big pump little pump, lock or no lock... Departure time came and went, emergency departure time came and went, absolute-skin-of-teeth-if-I-really-race-I-might-just-make-it time came and went, and finally at no-hope-at-all time I left. Well I was dressed and packed and perhaps I would have tried riding in between the fast and slow groups or perhaps I'd pootle off somewhere else. Either-way, after all the effort, I had to at least make it past the front door.

Somewhere around Farringdon the calls started, I ignored the first couple, better to keep pedalling, but did answer finally. Turned out the entire slow group, save Dr Cake, had hit snooze and rolled over. Ok, on again, get to the station and take it from there.

I arrived at Waterloo at exactly 09:41:16, technically in time to get the train, but only if it left from platform 1 and I didn't bother with a ticket. All this excitement was playing havoc with my wobbly brain and queasy stomach. When Dr Cake found me she obviously could see that in my eyes and offered the option of sacking it off, I was so so tempted. Again, on finding the £15 fare un-tempered by a groupsave a flash of reticence was shared, but no, get behind us satan, we came to ride. Tickets bought and fully committed I provisioned up with a sandwich for the train, another for the ride, a bar of Dairy Milk and a bag of Haribo to help ease the pain.

The ride out of Farnborough station is pretty shit, probably a shade more than 10 miles of urban clearway to be endured before the countryside is reached. It was also where we had the only real rain shower of the ride, which kind of fitted with the general ambiance. But when the countryside is reached it comes in the shape of Laundry Lane, or Puncture Alley as it should be called. That said we managed to negotiate its mix of gravel, mud, moss and stream with tyres intact (tho I suspect that was where I picked up the tiny flint shard the caused both my punctures). Having gone from the ridiculous to the, err, ridiculous, the countryside opens up, the sun comes out, the birds start singing and you realise why you do these things.

It was noticeable how much water there is still about out west after their flooding earlier in the year. A couple of spots the road was properly submerged. And the river Bourne that flows through all the pretty villages was kissing the undersides of the little drawbridges that connect the picture postcard cottages to the road. We also fell foul of a few mechanicals, two punctures for me, caused by a pesky slither of flint that had completely buried it'self in the rear tyre. Small enough to avoid detection when checking the tyre the first time and in fact small enough that it took 30 plus miles to re-puncture. The fact it was in the same position on the tube gave it away and allowed me to dig it out. The other mech was a bit more unusual. The chain on Dr Cake's bike hopped off on the inside of the cassette, jamming solidly between cassette and spokes. The rivets on the cassette hooked it in so completely we were unable to release it in-situ and in order to remove the wheel and apply some proper leverage we had to break the chain. This was at 30 miles in and all the while we were half expecting the fast group to roll past. That was until we got a call to say they had just got to Farnborough station. Did mean we got to stop at a lovely pub for a pint and bagel, both of which were awesome, but knowing the talent in the fast group and having 60 odd miles still to get through we thought it best to press on.

The ride progressed through the lovely countryside, and Devizes, with white horses on chalk downs and libraries in phone boxes to keep us entertained, and, With regular texts and calls, it started to dawn on us that the break-away was not getting caught. We elected to take the canal path into Bath and head for the pub. Bath was gearing up for it's Saturday night out and the pub was busy with folk dressed up for the evening, but still the staff were more than accommodating to the strangely dressed people, wearing a solid layer of mud from the canal path. he uy who came to unlock the gate to the garden for us, upon realising there were a couple of cars parked up blocking it from opening, actually offered and helped us lift the bikes over the 8 foot high fence. Having got in at about 8 we settled in with a pint and waited. Dr Cake and Howard had pre-booked tickets on what she thought was a 9.30 train, so it was a bit of a shock for her to get a call at 8.40 from Howard saying he was at the station and the train was in 10 mins. This meant a bit of a sharp exit but I believe she ran into the fast group who were able to point her in the right direction for the station.

We decided to head for the second last train, which was at 10, and rolled up to the station in plenty of time. Unfortunately the ticket office was closed and the self service machines didn't offer groupsave. When we got to the platform there was one other cyclist already waiting ahead of us, the train arrived and the train manager announced he had only 2 bike spaces left. We did try to persuade him to cram a few more on, and to his credit he did try to open the cargo compartment of the power car, but his key didn't seem to work and I guess it would be a bit of a stretch for him to spend any more time and effort to get it opened. By this time we had aroused the interest of one of the many police officers that were on the strangely lively station and we were advised we would have to wait for the last train at quarter to eleven. We were unsurprisingly nervous that the same problem would occur and we would be faced with a return ride back to London through the night. Fortunately the train was pretty empty and we had no problems getting on, tho it did mean getting home at gone 1 o'clock.

Just remembered I've got that bar of chocolate I bought at Waterloo.

While I go eat that you can have a look at a couple of picture I took...

https://www.flickr.com/photos/middle-of-nowhere/sets/72157644388536103/

Do you have a Garmin track MoN/Dr.Cake? I'm keen to see (using Strava's new playback feature) what happened and how far off we were. Onmy track we have near 2 hours of stopped time which I think is what stopped us reaching you... and extended pee break in Richmond park laid the foundation I think :)

Can't rep MON, but what a lovely ride report.

Rep - and this photo is rad, like an instagram pic...but real

I've got it recorded on my garmin, so when I get a chance to connect it to the computer, I'll point you in it's direction. I'm afraid you will all laugh at how incredibly slow I am going uphill.

Massive thank you to MoN. I definitely would have not done the ride if he hadn't shown up. Hope you guys at least got to enjoy the nachos!

Do you have a Garmin track MoN/Dr.Cake? I'm keen to see (using Strava's new playback feature) what happened and how far off we were. Onmy track we have near 2 hours of stopped time which I think is what stopped us reaching you... and extended pee break in Richmond park laid the foundation I think :)

Do you have a Garmin track MoN/Dr.Cake? I'm keen to see (using Strava's new playback feature)...

You are only allowed to watch it if you have the Benny Hill theme tune playing in the background.

Massive thank you to MoN. I definitely would have not done the ride if he hadn't shown up. Hope you guys at least got to enjoy the nachos!

Nachos were awesome, thanks!

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/493080632

Here's the breakaway group garmin trace.

^ is private / un viewable?

(from an interested by-stander)

Not sure, I'm new to this Garmin thing.