I rode the Surrey Cyclone last year amid the remnants of last spring's turbulent weather, and as I sit here to relive the effort through my keyboard and looking out of the window, I'm glad it was moved a week earlier this year due to Easter. My memory of sportives is usually selective with regards to hills, but I never forget how bloody terrible the weather is. No matter the punishment dished out by the gradient, there is nothing worse than being blown sideways on a descent, or gauging your progress up a climb by the speed of the water going down it.
Luckily, the forecast was relatively favourable - a touch on the cold side, but nothing as bad as the Wiggle Ashdown Sportive at the start of March. All thoughts of frostbite were dispelled in the first 5km with a slog up one of the ride's least pleasant inclines, Ranmore Common. Anyone doing the Walk of Shame at this early stage might've been better turning round and heading back to the start to take advantage of the open-air BBQ and the freebies on offer at the finish, bemoaning some sort of imaginary mechanical or a spouse's birthday overlooked.
After the huff and puff of the impossible-looking hairpin, replete with usual gleeful Sportive Photo snapper, it was soon time for more crazies with the descent of the gravel-strewn and T-junctioned Crocknorth Lane: not a time for bravado or over-confidence. In fact, much of the early downhill action on course this can be nail-biting to those unfamiliar to the area, the general greasiness of the roads adding a touch of adrenaline to the bloodstream, if not a little moisture to the chamois. Coombe Bottom can be perilous at the best of times, but caution is needed all the way down and there were plenty of stewards to remind us to be prudent.
After passing Shere, the undulations evened out a bit and for a while it seemed possible to take my hands off the bars and unclench my buttocks. The route went more off the beaten track and into surprisingly fine country lanes before bursting out near to the bottom of the queen climb of the day, Winterfold (aka Barhatch Lane).
In common with a few of the (cough) popular hills in this area, there's a kind of false ascent before the real business begins, and this has caught out many a tourist or newbie. I've done this, and the equally frustrating White Down, several times and I know that it's not wise to charge at it. A dozen or so match-burners careered past me on the lower slopes, only to be overtaken by my snail's pace trundling on the steepest section, close to the top. There's nothing pleasing about seeing a fellow cyclist on The Walk up there - I had to do it once. It's a rite of passage.
After Winterfold, we looped north and through Peaslake, then back down to join Pitch Hill, mirroring the misery of Winterfold with a gleeful and relatively stress-free freewheel. Here, we shared the route with early departees who had already visited the first feed station which gave us all some waving exercise.
Stocked up on gels, fig rolls, wafers, fruity-flavoured water and jelly beans, it was back the way we came for those on the Standard route, while the Short route riders were spared 20km of winding lanes. Those on the longer route had a further detour toward Dunsfold, but with jelly moving from the beans to my legs, I followed my instinct and increasing fatigue to head homeward and tackle the prettiest ascent of Leith up Broomhall.
Just as last year, after traversing Windy Gap the route plunged down past Leith Place and then steadily back up through Holmbury St Mary and on to the short, sharp taste of pain to come via Raikes Lane.
White Down can be quite arduous, climbing immediately after gingerly crossing the A25, usually scooting on one unclipped toe. Again, I was amazed to see lighter-looking comrades burning brightly on the false ramp. A popular place for Sportive Photo to camp out is the crook of the second hairpin, the real start of White Down - in fact, this year there were two bods in the ditch, one presumably with a time-lapse camera to check my apparent track stand for forward motion.
Thankfully, motor traffic descending the hill was light but there was an unusually high number of two-wheeled pedestrians, clopping and huffing northwards. As I've said before, I don't enjoy seeing that as I've been there, got the t-shirt.
The massive cherry on the sportive cake comes in the last 5km with a speedy dive down Ranmore Common although this time we had to contend with a rather tricky chicane caused by the temporarily closed gates of the municipal refuse site and stationary queues of rubbish-crammed cars (and a mobility scooter) resulting in wide-eyed braking for the overconfident and wild-eyed amusement for those in the cars.
With heart rates reduced, and eyes and pants air-dried, it was time to hang our bling, tackle the food stall and admire the smooth and effortless way the ride was handled. UKCE set the benchmark for cycling events in the UK and there is very little to fault them on. Signage and marshalling was excellent, feed stations well stocked (although maybe a little too close together for those on the Standard route - we skipped the second one) and the after-ride support as regards timing was quick and accurate.
I am looking forward to my next one. Hopefully by then it'll be somewhat warmer and flatter - those are no guarantee of enjoyment, but they certainly help.
0 Comments