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?
