Sunday 1 July 2012

Dunwich Dynamo 2012


More cycle madness then.  Not even my idea this time... my friend Clare's boyfriend Dylan was going to do the Dynamo, as was his boss, so Clare said 'you like cycling for miles and miles don't you.'  This is around 30 miles more than I have ever done in one go though, and the plan is actually to ride the 120 miles to Dunwich, a tiny village located where there was once a prosperous medieval port before it was washed into the sea, overnight.  So, no sleep then.  Really not sure I can do this...

London Fields, 8pm
I prepare by giving the bike a good service and a new chain, staying up late on Friday and eating lots.  On the Saturday afternoon I visit the new London Pleasure Gardens - somebody needs to show them some pictures of actual gardens - and eat more, then head to London Fields in Hackney, which is full of hundreds of bicycles and riders, thankfully diluting the crowd of ghastly hipsters who are the regulars around here.  Time for a quick beer with Dylan and the rest of the group, and then we are off, Northeast through London towards Epping Forest.  The bike is running well - seems having a new chain makes a lot of difference, also I have stripped as much weight as I could and fitted skinny tyres.  Soon I lose the group, I think some behind and some ahead which I later learn is correct, but I don't want to risk stopping to wait in case they are all in front.  Besides, with so far to go I think I need to make my best time.

And the miles roll by, darkness falls, barring the full moon and the moving river of flashing red lights in front of me.  I find a group I can stay with and follow them, on and on, pushing the pedals around becoming a natural rhythm as much as breathing.  There seems no need to halt, we pass pubs still open well after midnight but I'm not sure beer is wise, anyway there is a food stop around half way.  A check on my phone where I have managed to download the map reveals I'm not far from it, progress is good.  Sadly I now discover the flaw in following others, as they ride straight past the food stop then off in the wrong direction, it is a few miles before we realise.  They opt to cut around towards Dunwich, but I head back, I want to see the food stop and maybe my group will be there.  Turns out I should not have bothered, after wasting half an hour on my detour I spend as much time again queuing for bread and packet soup, even more annoying when not long after I start seeing little stalls by the road side selling sausages, bacon and so forth.

Bacon roll and coffee stop, 5.30am

For the rest of the route, I don't trust to others' navigation and become adept at fishing my phone out to check the map with one hand, often I yell to others that they're going the wrong way, generally to be ignored.  I think lack of sleep is affecting us all, I am still pedalling OK but have a slight headache and my thoughts are kind of blurry.  The supposedly flat route turns out to have more than a few hills, none very large but the effect is cumulative, I am still OK on the flat but struggle more and more with the climbs.  I start to see others pushing... indeed, as dawn breaks over the suffolk countryside I find myself overtaking people, which makes a change.  I also feel better as my body reacts to the new day, suppressing the urge to sleep for a while - I will pay for this later I know.

Dunwich beach, 8am
And still the miles roll by.  I'm somewhat surprised to realise that barring massive bike failure I am going to make it, indeed I'm still pedalling strongly to the end - just shows, riding a bike with a massively stretched chain is good training.  I make it to the beach just before 8am, for a time of around 11 hours.  My sense of time is totally out of whack now, after a little swim (brrr) I find a pub, breakfast of beer ensues.  Dylan turns up around 9.30, and we find most of the rest of the group - one does not arrive until 12.30 after nearly 16 hours travel, the horror.  We're all there in time for the last bus though, laid on along with removal vans for the bikes by the helpful folks at Southwark Cyclists.  It would be unfair to blame them for the accident on the A12 that leads to an unbearably long and hot journey to London... should have taken the bike back.  Oh well I am here now, but I think my plan of heading back to the Pleasure Gardens will have to be cancelled, I feel strangely tired.  Best head home then... oh, crap, I have to cycle there.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.