Weekend Round-up

I promised a big weekend of riding, and though not everything went to plan, it’s been a pretty fab one indeed, and I even managed to surprise myself.

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Full disclosure, we didn’t do the entire distance that we planned. Trying to figure out the new Garmin kept us up pretty late on Thursday night, and then delayed us by a further hour or two on Friday morning when it somehow lost the route we’d loaded. Setting out much later than we should have, and getting stuck on a horrible, busy A road halfway through, we arrived in Oxford around 6pm with 36 miles still to go. We decided to cut our losses and get a train to Beaconsfield, then cycled the final 10 miles in the dark, arriving at 9:30pm.

The ride itself was amazing, though! From Bristol to Swindon, the Garmin kept us on quiet country roads, cycle paths through parks, dirt tracks and bridleways. At one point we stumbled onto a dirt road that was actually in the process of being compacted. I was so grateful for Regina and her lovely thick tyres. Parts of it verged on mountain biking, even. It was brilliant fun, and the first proper adventure that I’ve taken her on.

Unfortunately things took a turn on the way out of Swindon. I’m not entirely sure what happened, but our Garmin reset its own settings, and locked us onto main roads. We found ourselves on a really ugly part of the A420 and stuck in a lay-by for about half an hour waiting for it to find its satellites and recalculate the route. In the end we turned it off and relied on Google Maps to get us the rest of the way to Oxford. Once we found our way back onto country roads, it became fun again.

One thing I love about cycling to Oxford is the descent down Cumnor Hill. While I’m not usually one to get excited about going downhill, it’s a brilliant way to end a long ride and get that last part finished very quickly! The other thing I love is finishing the ride with a chilli dog at the Gardener’s Arms on Plantation Road. Best food in Oxford.

We left the bikes in the shed on Saturday to give our bottoms a rest, but got back out on the road on Sunday to visit various relatives of Adam’s, and also to ride the lovely Pednor Loop, which is pretty much traffic-free and comes with some stunning views. Yesterday we decided to be kind to ourselves. We left at 7am, rode to Oxford and got the train back to Bristol. I’m glad we rode to Oxford again, as we got to do the part that we missed on Friday. I couldn’t have left this weekend without riding in the Chilterns.

The ride from Chesham to Oxford was really nice. The Chilterns are of course very hilly, and I knew there was a great big descent waiting for me down Kop Hill.

But now I’m going to shock you (and myself). All weekend I had to deal with big descents. Huge descents. Steep descents. Some in the dark. One had a red traffic light at the bottom while still on a steep gradient. After the first few I found my rhythm and I really started to enjoy them. On one hill we clocked a maximum of 65km/h. I’m really freaking proud of myself.

In total over the whole weekend I’d estimate that we rode around 130+ miles. It’s still the furthest I’ve ridden in that amount of time, and I’m really happy with how it went.

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Coming soon… Riding like a S.I.R.

I’ve decided that, providing I can get the Garmin working in my favour, Saturdays are going to become my day for riding solo. I’m dubbing these my Saturday Independence Rides (SIR) and this Saturday I’m planning a 40+mile ride to Westonbirt Arboretum and back. Stay tuned!

If you’re a woman cyclist in Bristol…

Final plug before I sign off. A bunch of us have organised a social this Thursday at Roll For The Soul, aimed at women cyclists of Bristol who want to meet other likeminded women, find riding buddies, learn about the various group rides and events coming up in Bristol, and just generally build a community (girl gang).

If you’re around, come join in the fun! Click here for details.

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Flying solo for the first time

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For me, cycling alone usually means commuting to work, or just getting from A to B in Bristol. Whenever I get out on a leisurely ride at the weekends, I’m with Adam, or another group of people. It’s a lovely and social way to spend my time on the bike, but I am aware that I’ve become rather dependent on other people to show me the way. I naturally fall behind the group, or my companion, and allow myself to be led.

It means that when I do finally set out somewhere my own (and it could be a really simple in-town journey like Kingswood to Bedminster), I find myself worrying about getting lost, because even though I’ve done it countless times before, I’ve allowed myself to ride blindly behind someone else, trusting them to get me to where I need to be, and not really learning the routes for myself.

Yesterday was a day of firsts for me. My first time attempting a new and challenging route, my first time clipping in, and my first solo adventure. I was so nervous in the lead up to it, because I knew I’d get lost. I knew I’d get stuck. I had no faith in myself, really. I was too dependent on others. But I also knew that I needed to do it. I needed to get out and discover things for myself, to let myself explore, and let myself be pushed to the limits, in order to really learn how I deal with those situations.

I did learn a lot about myself on this ride, like where my limits are, where I get my thrills, and what terrifies me. I also learned what I’d do if I was lost and stuck on a treacherous, flooded, muddy dirt path in the middle of nowhere. Spoiler alert, I completely froze up. I remember at the Women and Bicycles festival, either Lee Craigie or Emily Chappell (I can’t remember which now) kept saying that when you find yourself in these dire situations, you’re not going to just lie down and die on the side of the road, you’re going to keep pushing. I found myself questioning my own ability to push through, yesterday.

But I’ll come back to that. Let’s talk about the ride!

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I set out at about 8:30am and made my way to the Bristol-Bath Railway Path, where I changed into my SPD shoes and had a go at clipping in. I spent the first 10 minutes or so clipping in, riding, slowing, unclipping, stopping, and repeating. I actually took to it very quickly, and thankfully the day was incident-free! Also, how satisfying is that sound? Every time my cleat engaged with the pedal I felt a tiny bit more smug.

And so my journey began. I rode out towards Bath, turning off at Saltford to join the 410 Avon Cycleway. At this point, everything became unfamiliar, and my challenge to survive on my own began. One thing I can say is, thank goodness for the National Cycle Network! I found it so easy to get to where I needed to be, just by following the signs for route 410. It took me through some beautiful countryside, and I didn’t feel the need to keep stopping and checking my map. I trusted in the signs and they delivered me to where I needed to be. It was great to feel that sense of independence.

The 410 took me through Compton Dando, Pensford (where I saw the most amazing viaduct), Stanton Drew and Chew Magna. Reaching Chew Valley Lake was a highlight for me, because I’ve been talking for the last 6 months about how much I want to ride there, but waiting for someone to say, “okay, let’s go today.” I went by myself, and I felt really proud. Unfortunately the glory-basking was short-lived, due to the plague of locusts (or lake-dwelling, flying insects) that greeted me. I’ve honestly never experienced anything like it – any description I give will sound like a huge exaggeration, and I didn’t stop to take photos because I was literally covered in them as soon as I stopped my bike. In the end I just had to get out of there.

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From this point, I’d planned to get creative, following route 3 down to Priddy, turning off towards Cheddar, and then having lunch in Axbridge before joining the Strawberry Line. This didn’t happen, so maybe it’s one for another time. Instead, I hit a wall going up Harptree Hill, which is super steep, and 1/4 mile long. I had nothing left in me, so I stopped by the side of the road, ate, and checked the map for a shorter route back to the Strawberry Line.

There was a very surreal moment where a cycling club flew past me down the hill in waves, and I stepped out to see how many of them were coming. At that point I heard a voice shout ‘HI MILDRED!’ and I was left feeling utterly perplexed at who could have recognised me in all my cycling gear, in such a split-second. It turned out to be Katherine!

I have to admit that I walked up the rest of Harptree Hill. I was deeply ashamed and felt like a total failure, but that hill just defeated me. I’d already been out riding for about 3-4 hours at that point and hadn’t really eaten or rested. I didn’t expect to come up against such a climb at that point. But anyway, once at the top, I gathered myself and cycled in the direction of Charterhouse. This was where I left route 3 and decided to go it alone. This is also where I got very, very lost.

I came out onto a junction where the only option was to turn left or right. The road sign pointed to Cheddar on the left, and had been broken off on the right. My map was telling me to continue straight ahead. Across the road I could see a small opening that could have been a bike path, or could have been a path to someone’s driveway. I wasn’t sure. In the end I decided to find out. Once across the road I found myself on the most beautiful path:

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Don’t be fooled by the beauty… treachery lies ahead.

I bumped into three women looking at a map, and decided to check if I was going in the right direction, to Charterhouse. They were also lost and on their way to Cheddar, but confirmed that I was indeed on the right path, so I continued.

The path became increasingly rocky, and then muddy, and then at last, completely flooded. I found myself staring at a huge, boggy and deep puddle, for about 5-10 minutes. I just froze up. I didn’t want to ride through it clipped in, because I had visions of slipping and ending up lying in the middle of it. I also didn’t want to ride through it on the flat side of the pedal, because if I slipped and put a foot down, that was me ankle deep in mud. For that same reason I didn’t want to walk through it. I just kept looking back at the way I’d come, and then squinting up past the puddle to see if it got any better. It didn’t.

So my reaction to this situation wasn’t great. On reflection, had I been on the right path and left with no other choice, I should have just cycled through it. My bike was made for these types of things, and I need to learn to trust it. There were many other parts of the ride where I forced myself to trust in the bike, because I didn’t trust my own abilities as a cyclist.

As luck would have it though, I got off lightly this time. The three women reappeared, heading back in the direction they’d come, and told me that they’d read the map wrong. They’d actually taken a wrong turn 40 minutes beforehand, and I needed to go back to the main road and take that right that wasn’t signposted. I used a stick to pick all the mud out of my cleats, and gratefully rejoined the tarmac road.

From there, it was a straightforward ride through Shipham to Sandford, where I joined the Strawberry Line and rode to Yatton to get the train back to Bristol. Once I was on that path, I felt reinvigorated. The weather was glorious, it was really quiet, and I was feeling really accomplished. Clipping in was becoming second nature, and I started to feel like I’d at last levelled up to ‘Proper Cyclist’.

I just need to work on my courage, somehow.

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Current Obsession: Adventure Road Bikes

This may not appeal to everyone, but I’ve spent the last month or so obsessively looking at adventure road bikes in an attempt to find the perfect all-rounder.

What is an adventure road bike? 

Based on cyclocross geometry, the adventure road bike is Britain’s answer to the American gravel bike. It’s light, with drop bars, a high bottom bracket, and capable of taking thicker tires. Basically it’s an all-rounder – light and fast on the road, whilst also capable of going off-road for adventuring.

Why an adventure road bike? 

I don’t know if there’s a right or wrong answer to this, but this is my reason: I want to try a bit more off-road riding, but living in the middle of the city and not owning a car, I find it difficult to get to the trails. I have a neglected mountain bike that I’d love to take over to Ashton Court, but I’ve tried riding it through town before and I hated it. The handlebars are too wide, the whole thing feels clunky and slow on the tarmac, and generally just isn’t a pleasant ride. And I feel guilty. I think if I can get my hands on an all-rounder like an adventure road bike, I could take a nice ride through town, have fun on the trails, then ride comfortably back home.

Dipping my toe in the water

I’ve dabbled in mountain biking before (I’ll save the full story for another time) but after a nasty accident I’ve been very hesitant to give it another try. The MTB was a birthday present with the best of intentions, but I wasn’t ready to try again. Now I no longer have a car and bike rack available to me, and I’m itching to dip my toe tentatively back in.

Wishlist

  • Small women specific frame
  • 20+ gears
  • Hydraulic disc brakes
  • Steel frame (in an ideal world)
  • Blue!
  • Triple front sprocket
  • < £1,000

I’ve struggled to find anything that ticked all the boxes.

Enter Stage Right: Orange RX9

I was at Evans recently, and thought I’d settled on the Pinnacle Arkose Women’s Specific 2017, but decided to look at what Bike Workshop had to offer, as I’d much rather support a local, independent bike shop.

Tom gave me brilliant service, taking me through all the small framed bikes they had, getting them out for me so I could sit on them and get a feel for them. Eventually I fell for an Orange RX9.

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I admit, it doesn’t actually tick a lot of those boxes. It has cable disc brakes rather than hydraulic, a double front sprocket (10-speed though) and an alluminium frame. Obviously it’s not blue either. I can see past these things, because all in all it looks like a good bike.

What won me over were the crosstop brake levers. I’m terrified of transitioning to drops, and these look like they’ll be a great way to break myself in gently.

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On top of helping me pick something suitable, Tom very kindly let me bring this bike home over the Christmas week, to take it out on a few test rides. You don’t get that kind of service at Evans – you only get to test ride a bike once you’ve ordered it. No thanks. He’s also offered to powder coat it blue for me, because I’m determined to have a gorgeous blue bike.

I’m planning to take it on the B2B towards Bath, to practise on some flat, straight tarmac. I’m super excited, but crazy nervous. I’ve never ridden anything with this kind of geometry before, the drops are terrifying and it’s going to feel light as a feather compared to my clunky Ridgeback.

I’ll let you know how I get on!