Day 2: Meon to Brighton
A cold night in the tent followed an early night (why is it always freezing when you camp?), then a decent breakfast preceded another briefing about the days ride. To be honest I had no idea of the route or what to expect, ignorance is bliss in my book! Plus, I’m hopeless at map reading too, but the route was so well signed it was (fairly) impossible to get lost or take the wrong route anyway.
Statue at Goodwood
Sunday’s route seemed more hilly than the day before, big long rollercoaster dips, 6, 7, 8 in a row before levelling off for a few miles, then the same again, quite a different flavour to the PD hills. A seemingly endless climb ground its way up to the first stop at Goodwood with some stunning views at the top. But we didn’t hang around long before cracking onto the lunch stop at Steyning for the final top up of fuel. By then, the rumours about the very last hill, Devil’s Dyke, were spreading around the group, and we weren’t looking forward to it!
Devil’s Dyke
With only 15 miles to go, we were reliably informed that Devil’s Dyke came at around the 8-10 mile mark, after which it was literally all down hill to the beach from there. Sure enough, the already rolling terrain started winding up even higher as we passed through Saddlescombe, with some 1-3 switchbacks forcing some of us (ahem!) off the bikes for a gel and a rest.
The infamous Devil's Dyke
A ridge was visible on the horizon but surely we were going through it, not over it? As the trees cleared at the other side of the village, the moors levelled out and it became obvious there was only way, and that was up! When hills have names, you know they’re going to be bad, and this was no exception. One final big dipper, a slight false crest and then the inevitable grind up the aforementioned hill used up the last ounce of energy I had left.
Eventually, with Devil’s Dyke conquered, it was, as promised, all down hill for the last few miles into Brighton on Hove, where a glass of champagne and the family awaited on King Alfred’s lawns.
I caught up with Canadian Robert de Rot who had come over especially to take part in the ride, but smashed his rear mech going through one of the cobbled fords on day 1 – luckily the support crew had a spare bike to lend him so he could at least complete the ride, which he did in good time. The first riders came through at about 8 hours in total, I clocked in at 10 hours with about half the field behind me.
Next year?
Next year’s ride is 19-20 May, over a similar route, and costs £55 to sign up, which includes all food on the ride, overnight accommodation and technical support before, during and after the ride. And not forgetting a free massage! I’ll let you know if I decide to sign up for it, or maybe London to Paris instead?
