With Diego, Nigel and Peter meeting at London Bridge and making the perilous ride to London Fields we were met with John and his brother, Matt where after a few brief exchanges of past experiences of previous experiences we made the push off at 9pm, it is to be said that we were some of the last riders to leave, as most riders opt to leave like a bunch of Swallows at 8pm. We only managed to get 150 yards and suffered our first mechanical of the evening, a dreaded puncture and after much huffing and puffing with a small pump a local man kindly donated a track pump to ensure pressures were up to the recommended 120psi.
After this minor setback we were off, winding through the streets of Clapton, East London and then out to Walthamstow all the time avoiding the perils of Addison Lee and red buses, the saving grace of all 5 is the simple single file follow the leader style and strictly no overtaking. After our journey through the fringes of London we up to Epping forest and following the recent Tour de France route, it was at this time that the club really started to show its pace and we were reeling in riders that had left at the earlier time of 8pm, it is to be noted that you all you could hear were the loud shouts of "on your right, on your left" as the keen club cyclists were overtaking a large amount of nervous cyclists who probably hadn't ventured further than the comfort of the Barclays cycle lanes and at times there were a few misses as lesser confident cyclists were pulling out left right and centre!
And so this continued for a relentless 55 miles, a quick pace of 30kph led by Nigel and Johnathon, sadly for the me I couldn't keep the pace up and so started to wind down, partly because I knew that we hadn't reached the halfway mark and I am not Vincenzo NIbali!
As the evening progresses the number of amateur cyclists decreased and what I consider keen club riders increased, to the extent I was passed by a peloton of around 30 riders made up primarily of Dunwhich Paragon came past a rate of knots and knowing what I know I saw my golden opportunity to jump on the back of this and save my legs and this. Is what I did for around 30 miles, until they hit the last food stop at 90 miles and I continued on only to hit the wall at 100 miles.
By this time it was a round 3 in the morning and I had ridden through countless groups of riders mending punctures, wet weather crashes and broken bikes but ironically at a time when your body wants to stop and sleep (I did pass a lovely looking travelodge which seemed very appealing) you just keep going, fuelled by the knowledge that there simply isn't any alternative, Ipswhich is 30 miles away and the Suffolk countryside is pretty empty of places to stop and rest.
And so the last 14 miles are the hardest and the hilliest (I'm sure they aren't it just seems like that) and inevitably you end up riding with people sharing the same pain and cadence as yourself each asking for direction and morale support, hoping each corner you will see the converted signs showing you that the end is in sight and then at 4am I reached it, 7 hours in the saddle (beating my previous time by 1 hour) with Nigel and Johnathon coming in at 5 after a pit stop at 85miles and Peter coming in at 6 after suffering a disastrous 5 punctures and being ripped off for 8 pounds for a dodgy tube.
The ironic thing is arriving early and seeing the faces of joy that everyone has when they finish the ride, not one complains but is overwhelmed by a sense of achievement that they completed one of hardest rides.
The point is that it puts it all into perspective, after spending all day sleeping on Sunday I am not sure I ready to do that distance again, our friends on the the Tour De France complete that distance in around 4 hours and are ready to do it the next day.
Diego
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