Shaftesbury Spring 100km

The Shaftesbury Spring 100km - a journey through heaven and hell

New year, new attempt at minor audacity. This year I want to get my name in the AUK Handbook, and the most modest way to achieve this is by completing a ‘Brevet 500’, five 100km rides organised under the Audax UK umbrella.

This was the first.

 

A Fine Beginning

The ride began with a run to the beginning from Audley End station, with enough time at the first control for a cup of tea and a confirmation of the joke that in audax, no one makes eye contact. The weather was warm, such a contrast from last year’s hyper-extended winter, so I left a fleece in the clubhouse and changed into my summer gloves. The club house itself was packed, and a large group set off at 10am heading out towards Great Dunmow.

I was off the back of the main group after about 5km, but this always happens and I am now resigned to it. After successfully negotiating Brick End and only one minor double-back due to a missing signpost, I reached the first control, ate a macaroon, and carried on. My plan for this ride was to eat something at every control, rather than stopping for a big lunch in the middle of the ride. A good plan, in theory.

The sun was shining. It was a beautiful day. Another rider came past me, so I wasn’t last after all! And next was another nice run, to Great Bardfield and Shalford. A tailwind helped me fly past the airfield and into the village, where I passed the second control, ate a cheese roll, and carried on.

 

The West Wind

The route sheet instructed me to ‘keep left at 2 triangles sp GT BARDFIELD’. All very clear, expect that the first triangle had no signpost. I dutifully kept left anyway, only to be led down a farm track that was clearly going nowhere. Back to the main road thinking I’ve gone wrong much earlier – no trace of anywhere else to go. I lost half an hour here trying to find the right route, not helped by the absolutely dreadful state of the lanes. So much mud and debris on all of them that it was hard to distinguish the farm roads from the road that actually led to Thaxted.

I know that eventually all roads lead to Thaxted. But this one took a very long time because of the headwind. Oh, that wind. Dead-on into my face for the whole of this section of the ride. I knew I had been having too much fun on the first two stages. Now (as every cyclist knows) I would have to pay for it, and the price exacted was high.

I bounced the next control, only stopping to eat another sandwich and have a drink of water (not enough). I knew the next section would be fast as it was basically the route back to Audley End, and I was right – another nice ride past the posh house and the lake and then into Littlebury.

Where it all went to hell.

 

The Price Exacted

The next 20km were absolutely dreadful. The headwind was back, stronger than ever, the sun was beating down (I actually got sunburn on one side of my face, in March!) and the road was a nightmare of potholes, huge gaping trenches and pools of muddy sludge, and hills. Hills I had trouble walking up – I didn’t even attempt to ride them. Desolate landscape (as desolate as you can get in the home counties, anyway).It crossed my mind that a mechanical out here could be quite serious. It’s fairly deserted. I had seen perhaps two cars.

‘Royston Lane – very poor surface’, the routesheet said, and boy, were they right about that. Gaps between the broken slabs of tarmac that were wide enough to fall into. All uphill (obviously) and still into that godawful wind (it goes without saying). I was actually glad to reach the A505 and turn off....but the wind was still right in my face. Finally, finally I reached the next control and a turn away from the wind....uphill. I could hardly drag the bike forward. I was in the lowest gear, still struggling for any momentum. I walked a bit. I swore a lot. I was passed by another audaxer who looked much too cheerful.

 

The True Nature of the Soul

It has been said (probably) that doing audax rides reveals the true nature of your soul, and I am sorry to say that on this ride, the true nature of my soul was that of a quitter. I came to the junction for Brent Pelham, glanced up at the hill that followed, and carried on along the straight road to Newport. I just couldn’t face it. I got the map out and saw that actually, I would be covering roughly the same distance as the official route, barely going one side of the village of Manuden instead of the other, but, crucially, I would be riding mostly downhill.

So, weasel that I am, that’s what I did. Oh, it was good, wickedly so, freewheeling down through Clavering, down into Newport and then back up to rejoin the route for the last 10km or so back to the clubhouse. I made it back with four minutes to spare, and the light bleeding from the sky, so I did make the right choice out there on the road.

But...have I done the ride? Can I really claim it? I got my stamp, and the good people of Shaftesbury CC accepted my explanation and put my card in for validation, but....did I do it? I did the distance, but is that enough? Did I keep the spirit? Am I sufficiently....audacious?