It's stopped raining.....for now!
Very early alarm calls for everyone in order to be fed and ready for the off by 6:30. Many of the novices in the team have a slightly glazed look after their first experience applying chamois cream. It turns out that Mark's cream is Urea based but he assures us it is aroma-free. We get a stern talking to about the many medical hazards linked to the trip from Dr. Nick (who we later discover carriers no more than a pack of wine gums and soft mints in his bag) and we're away!
Off we go through the pretty, urban setting of scenic Bexleyheath with it's roads almost deserted as this Kentish hamlet wakes to the sound of bells, chains and the sigh of wind on lycra passing through its leafy lanes.....in our dreams.
The convoy leaves through rush-hour traffic and the busy dual-carriageways and drops through Bexleyheath on the road to Rochester. The heavens opened and the roads were flooded. (Pictured right - Beth and Ian make their way through the flooding). Rod is nearly decapitated by the wing-mirror of a truck as it passes him.
We eventually break free of busy Bexleyheath and get out on the the B roads of Kent and arrive at our first break stop. It isn't until this point that we spot that not only has Beth not chosen to follow Danny's advice on overshoes, but she has elected to skip anything resembling sensible shoes and is wearing strappy-pumps and socks. Needless to say the team offer their full support and advice and these don't see the light of day for the rest of the trip. But where's Ian??
Ian eventually arrives, bringing up the rear of the entire group and looking somewhat jaded. Given we have done less than 20 miles and we have another 160 miles to go, the rest of the team are uncharacteristically concerned. We discover that Ian is riding a bike made from something resembling a cast iron and lead alloy, with tyres the width of your forearm and the air pressure of a leaky lilo. Worst of all it has panniers with the weight of a Ian himself (he's no fly-weight) and crammed full of water bottles which he can't actually reach while riding.
Despite Ian's face-saving claims that all will be well, the team take matters into their own hands and strip down Ian's bike and inflate the tyres to bursting point. To his credit, he refused to ever admit that this made any difference to his performance at all and insisted that the pace on the first stage was purely down to his interest in the magic and alchemy of Bexleyheath's architecture.
The team push on through Kent and at the next break the Sun emerges. Spotting what may turn out to be a unique opportunity, Mark throws himself to the ground and quite bizarrely does a spot of sunbathing in the car park of the local community centre.
Rod soon begins his quest for the title of King of the punctures, wiping out his entire stock of inner tubes on the first day. The picture left shows one of these occasions just before Zack votes to leave Rod behind and press on regardless.
Rod recovered the situation and pressed on to catch up with the team at the base of the first serious climb of the trip to the top of the highest peak in the Wye Downs for our lunch stop at the Devil's Kneeding Trough.
At the foot of the climb was a family who seemed to take trips to the foot of the hill with a view to getting their kicks out of winding up cyclists. As Jon went past the mother shouted out "Go on you can do it. They call it Cardiac Hill but don't let that put you off!". The son from the family gleefully told Gary that the climb was "400 yards at most" and then watched him charge up to the first bend, about 400 yards ahead only to be greeted by the view of the rest of the climb which we later discovered was 2 miles.
.jpg)
As you can see from the picture, despite the puncture, Rod managed to get to the top of the climb ahead of Mark who can be seen trailing behind in the far distance. It just remains to say that clearly the team photographer made it up ahead of both of them with time to park his bike, get out the camera, pump up his tyres, have a quick spot of lunch, chat with the tour organisers and take a toilet break before either of them made it to the top.....and Danny was ahead of all of them!
.jpg)
Mark wasn't all that far behind
.jpg)
The rest of the team were so far behind the camera was stowed before the batteries ran out!
We eventually break free of busy Bexleyheath and get out on the the B roads of Kent and arrive at our first break stop. It isn't until this point that we spot that not only has Beth not chosen to follow Danny's advice on overshoes, but she has elected to skip anything resembling sensible shoes and is wearing strappy-pumps and socks. Needless to say the team offer their full support and advice and these don't see the light of day for the rest of the trip. But where's Ian??
Ian eventually arrives, bringing up the rear of the entire group and looking somewhat jaded. Given we have done less than 20 miles and we have another 160 miles to go, the rest of the team are uncharacteristically concerned. We discover that Ian is riding a bike made from something resembling a cast iron and lead alloy, with tyres the width of your forearm and the air pressure of a leaky lilo. Worst of all it has panniers with the weight of a Ian himself (he's no fly-weight) and crammed full of water bottles which he can't actually reach while riding.Despite Ian's face-saving claims that all will be well, the team take matters into their own hands and strip down Ian's bike and inflate the tyres to bursting point. To his credit, he refused to ever admit that this made any difference to his performance at all and insisted that the pace on the first stage was purely down to his interest in the magic and alchemy of Bexleyheath's architecture.
The team push on through Kent and at the next break the Sun emerges. Spotting what may turn out to be a unique opportunity, Mark throws himself to the ground and quite bizarrely does a spot of sunbathing in the car park of the local community centre.Rod soon begins his quest for the title of King of the punctures, wiping out his entire stock of inner tubes on the first day. The picture left shows one of these occasions just before Zack votes to leave Rod behind and press on regardless.
Rod recovered the situation and pressed on to catch up with the team at the base of the first serious climb of the trip to the top of the highest peak in the Wye Downs for our lunch stop at the Devil's Kneeding Trough.
At the foot of the climb was a family who seemed to take trips to the foot of the hill with a view to getting their kicks out of winding up cyclists. As Jon went past the mother shouted out "Go on you can do it. They call it Cardiac Hill but don't let that put you off!". The son from the family gleefully told Gary that the climb was "400 yards at most" and then watched him charge up to the first bend, about 400 yards ahead only to be greeted by the view of the rest of the climb which we later discovered was 2 miles.
As you can see from the picture, despite the puncture, Rod managed to get to the top of the climb ahead of Mark who can be seen trailing behind in the far distance. It just remains to say that clearly the team photographer made it up ahead of both of them with time to park his bike, get out the camera, pump up his tyres, have a quick spot of lunch, chat with the tour organisers and take a toilet break before either of them made it to the top.....and Danny was ahead of all of them!
Mark wasn't all that far behind...and Gary arrived at the top of the 2 mile climb doing his best to put on his prefessional smile and relentnessy cheerful demeanor.
The rest of the team were so far behind the camera was stowed before the batteries ran out!
View from the top of the climb looking over the Wye Downs
Following on from lunch the hills continued intermitently and Danny firmly established himself as King of the Mountains. Zack and Gary elected to pass time between peaks singing cover versions of hits from the 70s, 80s and 90s as they rode along. At one point, unbeknown to Zack, the pair were seperated and an innocent member of the larger group was slightly bemused when Zack started to shout "I wanna move it move it" at the top of his voice, expecting Gary to echo the refrain and only to be met by an uncomfortable silence.
The remainder of the ride was a steady descent down into Dover where we were met with the news that the ferry was delayed due to the extreme weather conditions in the Channel - oh good! Eventually we made the crossing, thankfully over calm seas. The only event worthy of mention was the spectacle of Zack nearly chocking to death by blocking his throat with a lump of Tikka Masala and then filling the remainder of his airway with a glass of water, thus almost drowning himself without even leaving the boat - funny looking back but not all that amusing at the time.
The low point of the day was the 2.5 hour coach transfer from Calais to Dieppe (our original destination port until travel plans were changed at the last minute). The travel was grim enough, it was past midnight by now, but the real issue was Gary. Gary has many nicknames (if you can call them that) one of which is Duracell. This is down to his uncanny ability to carry on while others fade away. In fact his energy levels visibly rise as he and others around him become more tired. The whole 'audience' of the coach was regaled for the entire journey with him joining in to every euro-pop song on French radio that the coach driver could find. He was actually heard to excitedly announce at one point "Great! A-Ha my favourite Norwegian band of all time". He punctuated each song by recounting random amusing anecdotes from his past to anyone that would listen - which eventually turned out to be nobody given the entire population of the coach was asleep. This didn't deter him for one second. In a moment of fitful wakefulness Rod was heard to ask Jon "What will you do if you end up sharing with Gary tonight" to which Jon responded "Slit his throat and get some kip - it's the only way".
No comments:
Post a Comment