The rain sweeps over the sodden fields in misty curtains. Every spider’s web is hung with thousands of droplets, the spiders themselves nowhere to be seen as they sheltered from the monsoon. Every leaf and branch and petal softly dripping. Under the trees the sound of raindrops falling on the summer canopy, an occasional drop reaching through to cool humid skin and catch in damp strands of hair. The roads, awash with mud and stones, glisten in the early morning gloom.
The perfect day,
obviously, for a bike ride.
1. From home to Mildenhall
I signed up for the
Mildenhall 100km audax ride planning to ride to and from the start –
I live at Newmarket, which is only ten miles away. I procrastinated
over whether to do the 50 or the 100, finally getting myself to
(wo)man up and enter the 100 just barely two weeks before. I then
started to look at the weather forecasts, which went from the very
promising ‘Big Sun’ to a severe warning for heavy rain within 48
hours! I do wonder if my entering the ride was the one event, the
butterfly flapping its wings, that made that low pressure system
swing around and make its sodden way to rendevouz with Mildenhall.
Imagine if I could harness that kind of power – I could bring rain
to the desert, spring to the icefields, sunshine to the
Scottish...all by getting out my bicycle! Actually, just by thinking
about getting out my bicycle. Sadly, I don’t think it’s my
power. The Weather Goddess and I have had altercations before,
culminating in me standing, soaked to the skin, yelling into the
storm that she could do her worst but she would not stop me from
riding. We’ve reached an understanding, now - she does whatever
she wants, and I suck it up.
Anyway, despite the
dire forecast the ride to the start wasn’t too bad. The rain was
steady but light, and it was already warm – extremely humid. The
choice today was between ‘soaking wet’ and ‘boiling hot’,
and I had decided on long leggings and a fleece hat that is the most
waterproof thing I own. I was hot. But the rain seemed to be easing
a little, so maybe I could lose the hat later on.
2. Start to Andy’s
Cafe (formerly Tubby T’s)
As I collected my
brevet card from the CTC gazebo (once I’d found it) the rain began
to get heavier. A collection of waterproof-wearing cyclists
appeared, all trying to fill in their cards while still underneath
the tiny gazebo which was the organisers’ only protection from the
elements. I’m not really sure why they couldn’t have the ride
leaving from outside the main school building – closer to the loos
and the chance to buy cups of tea, not to mention less chance of the
whole control floating away.
Anyway, soon we were
off!
The field was fast,
and I was soon right at the back. I know I am a slow rider, but I
did find it a touch depressing that the entire field was out of
sight by the time we’d gone through Worlington, only three kilometres in
to the route! I did catch up with a father-and-son team who were
going at my pace, and rode with them through most of the first
section of the ride. After getting across the four consecutive
roundabouts at Red Lodge (marvelling at how a new, ostensibly
planned development can have such a shocking road layout), we were
into the countryside, silent and misted as it was. Hardly a car was
on the road, and unusually, there was no wind – the only sound was the swish
of tyres on wet tarmac and the steady dripping of soft rain on full
green leaves. Up a few little hills (when Gazeley appears on a route
sheet you know there will be at least one) and through some small
villages, and then there was the first control, the recently-renamed Andy’s Cafe.
3. Andy’s Cafe to
Wally’s Cafe
I had known when I
first read the route sheet that there was no way I would get around
in time if I stopped for food and drink at all three of the cafe
controls. As it seems a little rude not to spend any money at any of them, my plan had always been to stop at the second one for
lunch. I ‘bounced’ this control - just got my card stamped and left straight away. As I came outside, the last cyclists were just leaving so I knew I
was at the back, but not too far behind, so I rode off confidently.
And then missed a
turn. I rode further on than I should have done looking for the
right turn to Denston, and began to slog uphill into the wind along
the A143 thinking it must be coming up in a minute....but then I
came to a garden centre, and also came to my senses, pulled in and
got out my map to see if I could avoid having to double back. I
probably could have done, but I thought it might be easier to
retrace my steps, which it would have been if I had not gone wrong
again! Eventually I came to the series of steep, sharp hills that
signals the approach to Hawkedon, and I was finally back on route. I
stopped around here for a bit of food and drink and then got going
again. The next bit, to Long Melford, seemed to take a long time. The
rain had stopped, so the hat came off, but I was still rather hot,
and not drinking enough water. I have never mastered the technique
of reaching my water bottle while riding – I’m riding a
small-framed bike to match my own small frame, and it was a tight
fit even getting a bottle and cage to fit in the triangle.
Something to think about for the future - maybe a smaller bottle, or somehow rigging something to handlebars? Anyway, eventually, after a rather hairy mistake nearly turning into the
wrong Acton industrial estate (there are two next to each other), with a car right up my backside as I wobbled about uncertainly, I
made it to the second control.
4. Wally’s Cafe to
the Cockfield postbox
My plan had been to
eat here, but once again I arrived as most people seemed to be leaving, so I
decided on just a cup of tea and a loo stop. I ate half a bag of
crisps and some Haribo while packing up again, and left with some
other riders, who soon stretched away into the distance. Shrugging,
I plodded on, through Lavenham (which is very pretty, and also full
of tourists despite the dreadful weather), and to the first ‘info
control’, the Cockfield postbox.
5. Cockfield postbox
to Lizzie’s Cafe
The next section
really started to grind me down. The rain had started again, heavier
than before, so the hat had to go back on even though I was already far too
hot. On top of that, it started to get windy, and every instruction
on the route sheet seemed to turn me more into the rising wind, which was
now laced with heavy rain. My waterproof jacket has recently decided
that keeping water out is an over-rated feature, and has stopped
working very well, so my arms were getting soggier by the minute.
Just to put the tin hat on it, this entire section seemed to be
uphill. And then there was an instruction of the route sheet which
said to look out for an unsigned left-hand turn with a tractor sign
after the turn. How the hell was I meant to find that?! I stopped
under a tree for some more food, recognising this swing into black
depression coupled with sarcasm and blinding rage as a symptom of low
blood-sugar, and then I rode on. Still, I did miss the turn, only by
pure luck did I glance behind me and see the tractor sign, so
staying on route by the skin of my teeth.
The route after this, through
Risby, seemed rather interminable, as the road goes sharply uphill
through an estate (I walked the last bit of this hill – I just
couldn’t get the bike forward after having to stop to let a car
out of a driveway), and then seemingly miles out of the way to avoid
the A14, doubling back on itself at least twice. Earlier I’d been
grinding up a hill and passed a group by the side of the road fixing
a mechanical, and now they caught me up. “Have you got a
couple of spare tyres in that bag?” said the man at the back of the
group as they effortlessly sailed past me. I couldn’t work out if
it was a comment about carrying too much stuff, or going too slowly,
or even being too fat (though I’m not), but whatever he meant, the comment
annoyed me.
Oh well – I soon forgot about him as I arrived at the
next control, Lizzie’s cafe, to a resounding cheer from the
controllers, the Boab and ChrisS clan from YACF! They told me I
wasn’t last, which even if it wasn’t true, was sweet of them.
6. Lizzie’s Cafe to
Kennett Memorial
This cafe looked very
inviting, and it was still raining a little bit, so I had sort-of
decided to stop for some cake. But first I went to the loo. Readers
of a nervous disposition may wish to skip the next paragraph. Pick
your euphemism: the cardinal had called, it was ruby Tuesday, the
time of the month, the red flag was flying. And, I have noticed this
phenomenon before: cycling brings on the Blood. I am a little prone
to this anyway, but a long bike ride does something horrible to me in that area, and the result is something Stephen King would describe as a
bit much. Anyway after mopping up (sorry) what could have been
evidence of a grisly King-inspired murder, I was in no mood for cake
and I bounced this control as well, heading straight out again
towards Cavenham, Tuddenham and the weird standing stone in the
middle of road that is the Kennett Memorial. I told myself I would go back another day for some cake, and maybe I even will.
Again this next section
seemed mostly uphill, and the wind was getting stronger, as well. I
stopped at the memorial to note down the (fictional) distance to
Tuddenham (Your Mileage May Vary – never was a truer phrase
uttered than when referring to Suffolk’s road signs) and eat something.
I didn’t want anything I had with me, but I drank some more water
and headed off again.
7. Kennett Memorial
to Mildenhall Rally Field
This last 10km flew
by, the wind was sort-of behind me, and I didn’t really have to
look at the route sheet apart from when getting over that ridiculous
roundabout collection in Red Lodge. Soon I was swinging into the
Rally field where I then had another hunt about for the
Arrivee...the gazebo had been abandoned at the side of the road, and
all I had was ‘main camping field’ as an instruction. As I
hadn’t actually been camping I didn’t really know where this was, but I
eventually saw a tiny sign saying ‘audax’ and followed it to a
little tent with some tables outside to get my card stamped. As I
was leaving I saw a couple of others arrive, so I wasn’t quite
last after all!
8. Mildenhall to home
I still had to get
home, of course, so after a brief rest I set off again back the way
I had come. I was starting to feel the miles now, and I was very
dehydrated. I think the combination of wearing too many clothes for
the temperature (in order to keep dry) and not eating or drinking
enough (in order to keep within time), started to make me feel quite
sick, although I didn’t ‘bonk’ and got home quite fast (for
me). Back at the house I checked my cycle computer
and it claimed I had done 94 miles. If that is true, this is my
longest ride to date, which got me to thinking...maybe a 200 isn’t
completely out of my reach after all....
And then, as I was
sitting in the living room drinking some coke and eating more
Haribo....the sun came out! Of course. The Weather Goddess likes her
little joke, though, because it was still raining....
