A few weeks ago I set off on an attempt to complete my first ever ride of 100 miles in a day. I was planning to visit my Mum on the South coast near Christchurch in Dorset. A weather friendly day arrived and the map said 100.7 miles. I loaded up with everything I am going to take on the trip the night before and with the intention of setting off nice and early the next day. I eventually left at 07:50. Not the earliest of starts but allowing 10mph average and two hours for stops that would hopefully mean I would get to her before it got dark. I plotted my map using cyclestreets and chose the quickest route rather than the scenic. I Loaded that onto my Garmin GPS and off I wobbled. Approximately 40kg of luggage on top of my sturdy but heavy touring bike made for a leisurely rather than quick pace but it's all good practice. I had split the route roughly in half. Apsley to Reading: I pretty much knew this so didn't worry about the planned route and Reading to Christchurch: This is where I would have to start to concentrate. Having done a driving job for most of my life I know the roads of England pretty well and could eventually get to most cities without the aid of a map. However riding a bike involves effort and not just twiddling your thumbs for a few extra minutes when you take a wrong turn and have to get back on course. All was going well to Reading. The GPS spent the entire time telling me to take a U-turn when ever possible so I just ignored it. As I came through Reading the GPS eventually picked up the trail and off I went following it along bike paths and over pedestrian bridges. Most annoying as on the whole bike paths in Britain are just lip service to cyclists and don't encourage getting lots of miles done. They are great for families with kids because they tend to go for safer routes rather than direct. I'd rather take my chances with the traffic over cycle routes in Britain most days. All that said I still decided to follow the GPS down an off-road track that ran parellel to the A33 towards Basingstoke. This turned out to be quite clever as it allowed me a few miles later to cross the A33 which I wouldn't have been able to do If I had stuck to the road. This gave me new faith in the route that cyclestreets had plotted for me and I continued on my merry way. I had lots of energy and all was well. I had made the decision to only stop for lunch when I had done more than half the miles, a purely psychological thing. With about five more miles to go 'til lunch time the GPS sent me North and I was supposed to be going in a generally South Westerly direction. Then a mile later down hill the GPS stopped giving me directions altogether! I followed my instincts and turned around-ish and went off in a general South Westerly direction. I had achieved my half way mileage and decided it would be a good idea to stop for lunch and check my route out on a paper map.
As the sun beat down I recovered from my ginormous pasta lunch and had a bit of a lay down and closed my eyes. I was awoken by a tractor rumbling past and packed up camp and headed for the coast. All was going well and a lovely young lady appeared next to me on a totally pink road bike, we had a chat, I explained I was a bit lost and she pointed me in the right direction. A few miles down the road, I asked a man with a dodgy leg and a dog who was just leaving the pub to confirm my route. I followed his advise and then low and behold the GPS started to work again. Like a fool I followed it. Fifteen minutes of uphill later I was back where I had met dodgy leg man! I still followed the GPS thinking it was easier to stay on it's route and spend a bit more time now rather than deviate and resort to the paper maps for the next 50 miles. Oh Dear!! I was sent further North into a new housing estate and a dead end. By now the joys of lunch had long since passed and I was starting to get a bit p*ssed off. A decision was made at this point to totally ignore the GPS from this point onwards even if it did start working properly again.
Approximately two hours after I had first turned towards the North and about ten wasted miles later I was back on track. This would be a pain any day but today especially was soul destroying. The following twenty miles or so were hard work but made easier by the beautiful countryside, lush rivers and the odd village scarecrow thrown in for good measure. The first I saw of these was a builder leaning on a road sign with a step ladder and a tiger. At this point I didn't know it was scarecrow week and found it extremely amusing. This part of the world is thatched cottages personified and the miles started to roll by.
I rolled into Romsey about 7:30pm and stopped for a chip butty. Whilst I sat on a bench enjoying my fuel the drizzle started. No mention of this on the weather forecast! As I laboured into the New Forest it began to get dark, the rain got harder and my glasses started to get a bit dirty. Eventually night descended fully and the roads through the New Forest are not lit. Although my lights are pretty good and enable me to see fine, the rain on the glasses makes it bit more difficult in the dark. Although I couldn't see the road very far ahead I could see the car headlights and this would lift or depress me depending on whether they disappeared up or down into the distance. By now I was very tired, worn out, thighs, knees and bum where all aching and I didn't quite know how long I still had to go. Because I was fully loaded with all my gear I of course had the tent etc with me and the last 40 miles had so many good camping spots I could have easily chucked the tent up in. I thought about putting the tent up and having a quick ten minute nap and then setting off again but decided to just stop for a rest instead. I tapped the destination into my GPS again to see how far it was to go, thinking it would be about eight miles, it was fifteen!!! I was devistated. Still another 90 minutes. I looked at the GPS mileage for the day and it was at 105 miles, I hadn't even noticed I had done my century ride. This cheered me up and knowing that if I managed to limp all the way to my Mums I would have done 120 miles in one day. That's nearly double what I had ridden before. With all the luggage that would be no mean feat for me so I dug deep and carried on. I eventually arrived at Mum's doorstep at about 10:45pm shattered, broken but well chuffed with myself.
If I had known it would be 120 miles with the last 20 or so in the rain and the dark there is no way I would have started out in the first place. This has given me great hope that I can do the physical side of the trip now as I will only being aiming to cover 50 miles a day and the luggage should get lighter, as should I, as the miles pass by.
As the sun beat down I recovered from my ginormous pasta lunch and had a bit of a lay down and closed my eyes. I was awoken by a tractor rumbling past and packed up camp and headed for the coast. All was going well and a lovely young lady appeared next to me on a totally pink road bike, we had a chat, I explained I was a bit lost and she pointed me in the right direction. A few miles down the road, I asked a man with a dodgy leg and a dog who was just leaving the pub to confirm my route. I followed his advise and then low and behold the GPS started to work again. Like a fool I followed it. Fifteen minutes of uphill later I was back where I had met dodgy leg man! I still followed the GPS thinking it was easier to stay on it's route and spend a bit more time now rather than deviate and resort to the paper maps for the next 50 miles. Oh Dear!! I was sent further North into a new housing estate and a dead end. By now the joys of lunch had long since passed and I was starting to get a bit p*ssed off. A decision was made at this point to totally ignore the GPS from this point onwards even if it did start working properly again.
Approximately two hours after I had first turned towards the North and about ten wasted miles later I was back on track. This would be a pain any day but today especially was soul destroying. The following twenty miles or so were hard work but made easier by the beautiful countryside, lush rivers and the odd village scarecrow thrown in for good measure. The first I saw of these was a builder leaning on a road sign with a step ladder and a tiger. At this point I didn't know it was scarecrow week and found it extremely amusing. This part of the world is thatched cottages personified and the miles started to roll by.
I rolled into Romsey about 7:30pm and stopped for a chip butty. Whilst I sat on a bench enjoying my fuel the drizzle started. No mention of this on the weather forecast! As I laboured into the New Forest it began to get dark, the rain got harder and my glasses started to get a bit dirty. Eventually night descended fully and the roads through the New Forest are not lit. Although my lights are pretty good and enable me to see fine, the rain on the glasses makes it bit more difficult in the dark. Although I couldn't see the road very far ahead I could see the car headlights and this would lift or depress me depending on whether they disappeared up or down into the distance. By now I was very tired, worn out, thighs, knees and bum where all aching and I didn't quite know how long I still had to go. Because I was fully loaded with all my gear I of course had the tent etc with me and the last 40 miles had so many good camping spots I could have easily chucked the tent up in. I thought about putting the tent up and having a quick ten minute nap and then setting off again but decided to just stop for a rest instead. I tapped the destination into my GPS again to see how far it was to go, thinking it would be about eight miles, it was fifteen!!! I was devistated. Still another 90 minutes. I looked at the GPS mileage for the day and it was at 105 miles, I hadn't even noticed I had done my century ride. This cheered me up and knowing that if I managed to limp all the way to my Mums I would have done 120 miles in one day. That's nearly double what I had ridden before. With all the luggage that would be no mean feat for me so I dug deep and carried on. I eventually arrived at Mum's doorstep at about 10:45pm shattered, broken but well chuffed with myself.
If I had known it would be 120 miles with the last 20 or so in the rain and the dark there is no way I would have started out in the first place. This has given me great hope that I can do the physical side of the trip now as I will only being aiming to cover 50 miles a day and the luggage should get lighter, as should I, as the miles pass by.
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