Isn't it amazing how difficult life becomes without the full use of your right hand. following a cycling accident on a roundabout somewhere in the vacinity of Blackgang Chine on the Isle of Wight, I now have limited use of my right hand, temporarily anyway. the important thing is that nothing was broken other tyan my willingness to go downhill very fast. Thankfully no-one else was involved. Just Me, the Bike and the Tarmac.
The thing to remeber here is that September can be a mixed bag of weather. Sun, rain and wind all in one afternoon. Having slick tyres on your bicycle opens you up to the mercy of such weather and if you want to stay on your bicycle at this time of year, then changing to more suitable tyres is recommended. The slicks are now residing in the unfashionable part of my garage.
notwithstanding this accident, the ride was excellent and I really like to thank the chaps for coming out on their cycles for what looked like, initially, a really bad weather day.
The Ride To Ryde.
As it has become known, is an annual event organised through the company I work for. Initially it started as a small affair, but is growing steadily in numbers as each year passes. It's fairly tough. 1500 meters of climbing, about 112Km with the middle 30 to 40Km into the mother of all headwinds. On a good day it's a hard ride, on a bad day, it's a beast.
http://bikeroutetoaster.com/Course.aspx?course=255859
In 2009 the conditions were superb, although the predominantly south-westerly wind had turned such that the last 30-40Km were made a little more tougher.
This year could not have been more different. dark clouds were already apparent as the bicycle laden ferry made its way to Ryde from a sullen Portsmouth Harbour. having bade each other good luck, the rain descended almost in synchrosised harmony with the first turn of the pedals. We were going to see the beast.
The feeling in the pack was good, despite the rain and we set off with banter in full flow. The route begins with a short sharp rise out of Ryde which spirals you up into the lesser seen suburban areas of the town. Once at the top of the hill the group were suitably stirred into action, the blood and lungs working hard, temporarily at least as no sooner are you at the top and the swoosh down into the handsome village of Nettlestone begins. From Nettlestone, the pack made its way at a respectful pace into Sandown, the rain began falling harder than ever. Despite a slight detour around the one way sysem, a slight refulsal of the Garmin sat nav to direct us properly, we were progressing nicely to Apse Heath.
A broken chain is never a good thing, in the pouring rain doubly so. We were spread out as a group at the point that this happened to one of out group and getting us all back to the point of the mechanical failure was difficult, made worse by my falling off (for the first time) just as I made it back to help out. 2Hrs passess by quite quickly when your trying to beat a personal best. And so we holed up, Just outside of Sandown, repairing bikes and people untill all was good again. Everyone was thinking "its going to be one of those days".
Our luck turned, for a while at least, as steady progress was made through Ventnor and on to Blackgang. Finally, the southcoast was in full view and then, suddenly and quite surprisingly it wasn't. I dropped the bike on a roundabout. This time it hurt. It still hurts 3 weeks later. Not even this incident however, could stop the momentum and before long, the sweet retreat of the tea shop at Freshwater Bay appered on the horizon, disappeared behind a hill and then reappeared only to drop behind a second hill. Tea would be served, but not before the biggest climb of the day was conquered. A double mountainous hump of white chalk and all into a monster headwind, carbon bicycle frames being blown about like paper bags.
The refreshing power of tea cannot be underestimated. Its a cure all. A hearty white-bread sandwich and a few mugs of tea can resolve any cycling ache or pain. All this and the fact that we had reached the two thirds distance marker made for a buoyant mood in the pack.
back in the saddle and a blast to Newport ensued, fuelled by tea, cake and white bread. Full throttle. Possibly the best section of the day. Before long we were waiting for the antiquated chain ferry to take us to the other side of the river Medina. The boys polished there Williers, making themn podium ready. I looked at my scratched rear chainstay and then at my enlarged swollen hand. Washing and polishing could wait for me.
The sting(s) in the tail of this ride are the numerous ups and downs incured from Cowes to Ryde. The second biggest climb of the day is in this section and is most unwelcome, but finally atop the peak, with the distinctive Ryde church spire peaking through a gap in the rolling pastures, the ascent to the finish begins. Its a rapid, frantic pedal down into town, avoiding the opening of car doors and old ladies parking Nissan Micras. Suddenly a Willier is in front, a break away. Down the steepish high street at an alarming pace and over the line.
we see a pub, its all over.
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