Ridgeway, Day 5

When I was rather younger I went to a Ridgeway School, don't think it was named for this Ridgeway though, there are several of them after all.  It was north of Birmingham for one thing.  I do recall we took a school trip down this way once though, and visited the Avebury Ring.  Various people have said I will be impressed by it when I arrive, however given the Ridgeway doesn't in fact go to it I suspect I won't - the 4 miles or so it would add to the day being enough to put me off, given I have 20 to do anyway.

The end!

Less than yesterday at least... I eat an excellent breakfast (old spot sausage!) and am on the road by 9am, again the way is mainly along bridle paths and wide, rutted green lanes.  Hill Forts abound, I soon reach the impressive Barbury Castle, and not long after there is another fort on Hackpen Hill.  Allegedly there is another White Horse here too, again I can't see it.  And then, with little ceremony, I find myself at the end of the Way.  The finishing point, Overton Hill, is hardly worth the name, though it does have an array of burial mounds.  In any case, I'm not done, I have another eight miles or so to do to reach Pewsey, where I can catch a train back to London.

The rather excellent Crown Inn.

My route planning turns out to be good though, much of the remaining miles being on bridle paths, and I pass through scenic nature reserves and charming villages full of thatched cottages.  There's only a brief section of nettle-choked footpath, then some exciting battling through a field of head high maize.  And I don't get lost at all... Keeping up the impressive speed too, I reach Pewsey at just gone 5pm, just a little early for the 9:22 train I've bought a ticket for.  Or indeed, the next train which is at 7:29 - fortunately I find the Crown Inn, which even has its own brewery, a better end to the walk is hard to imagine.  It's tempting to hang around for four hours and consume considerable amounts of beer, I resist though... back to work tomorrow after all.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Ridgeway, Day 4

Didcot power station.

Well, as it turns out I bounce out of bed at 7am, clearly this lifestyle is doing me good.  The Swan Inn provides a hearty breakfast and a packed lunch, then I'm off on a long day, twenty-four miles in fact.  The legs seem to be working at least, and the Way continues flat, with a view off to the north that suggests I may actually be on a ridge.  Shame the view is of a power station.

Uffington hill fort.

The miles roll on, I reach Uffington Castle, a rather impressive hill fort, and wander a bit.  There is a White Horse here, but a long walk downhill and off the way to see it... So, onwards.  Later on I pass Weyland's Smithy, somewhat overrun with children.  And then more and more miles, much of it the wide 'green lane' that I'd expected from the Ridgeway.

The body keeps working though, in fact I'm a bit shocked by the pace I'm maintaining, full pack and all.  Don't seem hungry either, I now have a selection of uneaten chocolate bars in my pack... riding for a fall I'm sure.  As it is I reach the Inn with the Well in Ogbourne St. George at 6pm, and yes, there is a well.  In the floor of the restaurant area, covered with bullet-proof glass, and it has a scare-crow in it for some reason.  Anyway... food here is good, not just pub grub.  Nice to have a bath too.  And this sofa is very comfortable.

The Inn with the Well.  Also with dog.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Ridgeway, Day 3

Weir and lock at Goring.

A short day today, well sort of at sixteen miles.  It's my only sub twenty miler anyway... I celebrate by staying in bed 'til 9:30am.  Then it is on with my wet clothes - washed them last night but forgot to hang them up - and off.

Still not much ridge action.  The morning walk is along the Thames, so pretty flat and pretty near sea level, scenic enough though, especially the weir at Goring.  Or at Streatley, from the other side of the river.  Which turns out to be a good place to be as I get a good ploughman's lunch at the CAMRA approved Bull Inn.

From here the route leads uphill and into more open country, chalk and flint underfoot and broad fields to either side, I could be in Wiltshire already.  Still not a ridge mind you.  And before long I'm turning off the Way towards East Isley, where I'm booked into the Swan Inn.  Once off the well travelled route I find myself beset by brambles and nettles, but I'm at the pub before long, and there is beer, food, even a shower.  Shame about the 7am wakeup call tomorrow...

Over half way!

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Ridgeway, Day 2

The Carrier Arms.

After a night camped in a field - couldn't find the campsite - I make an early start so as to avoid wrathful farmers.  I'm walking at 7am, not too quickly though, I'm feeling it from the previous day a bit, have a couple of blisters as well.

Still no ridge in evidence... more farmland, more woods, there seems no end to it.  I am very relieved to reach a pub for lunch, the Carriers Arms in Watlington, so much that I spend an hour and a half there.  This in turn leads to a little lie down in a field later, still why not.

I do pass a landmark of sorts, Grim's Ditch is a prehistoric earthwork, some three miles long.  Presumably for defensive purposes, or maybe it was a giant half-pipe for bronze age skateboarders.  Not far past this is Wallingford, where I find an actual campsite, and even better a pub with yummy Thai food.

Grim's Ditch.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Ridgeway, Day 1

First Trig Point on Ivinghoe Beacon.

So, back on the trail - seems to have been a while, my summer has been busy with festivals, holidays, and of course the Olympics.  None of it seemed 'travelly' enough for blogging though.

The Ridgeway then.  Ninety miles from near Tring southwest towards Wiltshire, White Horses, burial mounds and beer.  Plan is to do it in five days... the first being a bit tricky as I start from London.  A ride into the city, tube, train and it's 11am before I reach Tring, with twenty-three miles to go.

I need to head northwest to the start of the Way at Ivinghoe Beacon, then circle back and at 1pm I'm in Tring again.  Ho hum.  That first section seemed to be most of the ridge for today also, from here it is farmland and a lot of wood.

Easy going though, and I power on towards Princes Risborough, journey's end for today.  Turns out to be remarkably dead, I find one open but empty pub... the contrast with Wendover, seven miles away, is marked - that place seemed to be entirely composed of pubs.  Well, there's food at least.  A local asks if I am having a mid-life crisis... no comment.  Right then, off to pitch my tent in the dark once more.

Tring Tring!

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

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.

Beacons Way, Day 9

One last trig point.

Definitely overdid the booze last night - I have 20 miles to do today, and my train leaves Newport at 8pm, so I was rather hoping to set off before 9, particularly as for the first time in a week there is a chance of a pub lunch.  Instead I set off after 10, muscles protesting at being asked to work after being extensively poisoned...

Archaic signage by the canal.

My route down towards Newport turns out to be a pretty good addition to the Beacons Way, the National Park extends a fair distance towards the coast and I start by climbing up along another pleasant wooded gorge, and then tramp across Blorenge, then along a last outlying ridge of the beacons, with views back to Skirrid Fawr and Table Mountain behind, and Newport in front.  As the ridge peters out I descend down towards Pontypool, my planned lunch stop... still feeling rather rough I decide against the pub, also it is half past three and I still have some way to go.  In any case most of the pubs seem to shut, as indeed are most of the shops, Pontypool has seen better days it seems.  I manage to find some lunch in a rather odd supermarket whose stock consists almost entirely of frozen food and multipacks of soft drinks.

Newport!

After a little struggle finding the cycle route that is my way out of town - it turns out to run up on stilts above a main road - I find myself still some nine miles away from Newport at 4.30.  Time to get moving - fortunately from here the whole remaining distance is along the Brecon and Monmouth Canal, so nothing but flat or gentle downhill terrain.  It makes a nice change after the preceding days of mountains and gorges... also the rain is holding off, and in the event I make an excellent pace, reaching Newport by 7.15.  Time for a quick beer before getting the train back to London, where I then have to get the tube across town and bike home - riding at 30mph through the darkened streets seems terrifyingly fast.  And, appropriately enough, it is chucking it down with rain.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.