‘Training’ it to Winchester followed by ‘bunk housing’

Our epic adventure started on Thursday evening with myself (Vicky), Alex and Amber being chauffeured by Andy in the ‘lean green machine‘ to Oxford station. On arrival I was both nervous and excited as to what was in store for us over the following few days!!

We boarded our train and set off and I took the opportunity to take a look at Alex’s newly acquired book on ‘Mounting Biking the South Downs Way’, maybe ‘ignorance is bliss’ would have been a better option to take because the insight into what was to behold us was somewhat daunting to say the least!! Whilst Alex are I were chatting excitedly about our forthcoming adventures, Amber was engrossed in her I-phone apps and listening to her headphone music!!

Apart from a slight delay in approaching Reading station and a very abrupt stop and swerving along the track further down the line we had a uninterrupted journey to Winchester station. On arrival our 1st mission was to find a McDonalds to combat our ravenous appetites, we were working on the theory that whatever we eat now would easily be worked off in the next few days!! After wandering the streets for what seemed like an eternity with our rucksacks, looking like the archetypal tourist, we eventually found those famous ‘golden arches!’ our ‘meal’ didn’t even touch the sides and we had polished everything off in about 10 minutes!!

Our next mission was to try and find a taxi to take the 7 miles from Winchester to Marwell Activity Centre, our 1st nights accommodation. We wandered seemingly aimlessly around the streets of Winchester searching vainly for any taxi’s (why is it never like in the films where you can just hail a cab virtually anywhere!!) the only thing we could find was a tramp inside a huge Biffa bin searching for food scraps and a rather amorous middle-aged couple around the back of an Iceland store!! I was starting to panic a little and I was certainly out of my comfort zone (a far cry from my cosy Pollicott!!) Eventually we found a taxi and were overjoyed when he said he could take us to our destination, so we bundled in. During the journey I was trying to take in the route as I knew that we had to cycle from Marwell back into Winchester the following morning to start the South Downs, I was somewhat alarmed when we went on the M3 for a junction, but I was quietly confident that there would be an alternative route!!

On arrival at Marwell we were met by 2 young ladies who showed us to our exclusive ‘bunk house’. There were 4 of us and the bunk house slept 10 so we had plenty of room, but I did feel transported back to my school trip days though when faced with a room full of metal bunk beds and plastic mattress covers!! After choosing our favourite beds we waited eagerly for the arrival of Sian and Andy (again in the lean green machine), but MOST importantly our bikes on the top of said machine!! Sian travelled separately to us as she had had a very important work commitment in Brighton that day and Andy had very kindly offered to bring her and our bikes directly to us!! We barely had allowed Sian through the door to our exclusive bunk house before we cracked open the wine (only a small glass) and once consumed we settled down for the night all cosy in our sleeping bags with our bikes safely stashed by our bedsides! We felt like naughty school girls giggling in our sleeping bags and after seeing Sian’s electric blue with yellow binding sleeping bag we decided that they must have made it out one of Anneka Rice’s old ‘Challenge Anneka’s suits!! I drifted off to sleep listening to Amber humming the ‘Challenge Anneka’ theme tune!!

South Downs Way - June 2011 - Belles on Bikes

Finally the big day arrived. Let the challenge begin. I'm going to give you here an overview of our journey and a brief insight to our experience. Over the next couple of weeks I hope all four of us will drop in to the blog to share a few tales of the unexpected.

The adventure started on Thursday evening when 3 Belles travelled by train (there is a story already here) to Winchester and then on to Marwell Activity Centre bunkhouse (another story).

Belle 4 (that's me) hot footed it back to Pollicott from Brighton and travelled by car (thanks to Andy) to said bunkhouse - together with 4 bikes. Wine was waiting for my arrival and we enjoyed a late evening relaxation before nestling into our plastic sheets for some pre-cycling rest/recuperation.

8.15am Friday 10th June - we left the bunkhouse. To get to the South Downs Way we had to cycle a good 8 miles, up hill and down vale. We stopped for coffee and bacon/egg sandwiches in a little tea shop in Twyford on the recommendation of a friendly 'passed by' with greyhound.

We started the South Downs Way at 10.30 - it took us a while to find the start on our map  - ominous? yep!

By mid morning it was clear that this was no Ridgeway cycle which was a cruise in comparison - the hills were bigger, and the terrain was more varied and extreme. High spirits turned to quiet contemplation as we trundled on at not much more than a walking pace. A quick pub stop lifted us a little until we were (soon) joined by the friendly walker we had passed some time back. We left resigned to the fact that today would be a long one. It was. With just a few short breaks we were cycling for 13 hours!

9.20pm Friday 10th June - arrived at Cocking. This has another entire blog worth of story waiting to be told.

7.30am Saturday 11th June - departed Cocking following a hearty breakfast of 'frambled' egg sandwich lovingly cooked for us over an open 1970's camping gaz stove by our van based support team Steve and Annalise. Our destination today is Ditchling Beacon (anyone who has cycled London to Brighton will understand how daunting this was). Once again it was a long day. Oh and we got lost - there is yet another tale of high emotion related to this. Luckily, waiting not far away was our, now extended, support team and a bright green car arrived to save us from ourselves as we sat by the road wondering where we actually were.

By 8pm we were at our camp site, with warm showers, chips and wine all round to cheer us up.

7.30 am Sunday 12th June - we left Ditchling Beacon in the right direction on our final leg (or is that last legs?) toward Eastbourne. A poorly Alex and mid-morning horizontal rain meant we were very pleased to meet up with our support team in Bo Peep car park for an early lunch. Then we pushed on through the last 9 miles, which included 2 extremely long and steep hills, for a champagne celebration at the Tourist Information Centre with an even more extended support group of family and friends.

So, that's the general shape of it - a very hard, emotionally draining 3 day trip from which there is so much more to share that I hope you can find time to drop by and read all about it over the next few weeks.

Rabbit, Sniff, Rabbit, Sniff, Rabbit...

The final training session before the big trip could have got off to a better start. Last minute work commitments for Amber and an alternative weight loss programme for Alex left just Vicky and I game on. Well, OK, game on is an overstatement for Vicky - full of cold she did try putting me off via text but I failed to take the hint.

So Vicky and I set off down Brick Hill (the 1:10 hill out of Ashendon which, if taken in a downward direction, usually means it can be avoided for the upward return journey home - I say usually!). At the bottom of the hill, by the old station, came Rabbit no. 1 - a sorry little chap blinded from mix amitosis and hopping around the road directionless. We stopped, discussed who would put it out of its misery (and how), failed to come to a decision, helped it to the kerb and left the poor thing to whatever fate befalls it. Downhearted we carried on to Dorton and up the hill to Chilton.

All familiar ground so far until we got to the Chearsley turn out of Chilton and here we ventured forth onto new territory. You may recall my excitement a few blogs back (the day I cycled with a very grumpy Amber) at finding a new bridle path - well here it was and today was the day to try it. We found ourselves on an overgrown, downhill, rutted track. Here I'm afraid our morosity re: rabbit was quickly overcome. We had excellent fun - travelling downhill at speed (my brake blocks are non-existent), lifting our legs clear of stinging nettles (most of the time) we concentrated on staying on top of our bikes as we hit unseen ruts. Then, after adventures in a wheat field and a short pedal over a meadow we emerged on the Thame to Bicester road near Oakley. We crossed over the road and picked up another bridle path.

Now on flat land we kept a good pace until we encountered Rabbit no. 2 - which was actually a magnificent Hare. We stopped to watch as, completely unaware of our presence, this beautiful creature sat upright sniffed the air then lollopped away across the field. As we set off again the Hare became aware and, rather than using speed to escape us, it flattened to the ground and folded its ears down to 'hide' from us. Brilliant, there we were in a field playing hide and seek, on bikes, with a Hare.

We tore ourselves away from the Hare entertainment and continued through fields and along tracks until we came out on a bend in the road close to Worminghall (by the recycling unit for those who know it). A quick left and left again took us onto the Shabbington road where we passed quite a few stables and yards before turning onto another bridle path headed back toward Westfield, just outside Long Crendon.

And here was Rabbit no. 3 - 'Hare' I shouted excitedly causing a shorter eared, shorter legged common garden (and happily healthy), obviously less inventive than a Hare, Rabbit to leap to its feet and tear off into the undergrowth.

The track here was extremely uncomfortable - obviously the stable owners on the Shabbington road make good use of this facility whatever the ground conditions leaving lumps, bumps, potholes and gouges that are incompatible with bikes. Our travels became punctuated with oohs, and ouches as we bravely pedalled on. Until Vicky suddenly abandoned her bike and dived into the bushes unable to take the continual shaking any longer!

At this point Vicky was now on familiar territory from her days riding, and working with horses, in and around Long Crendon. With the wind in my ears I really couldn't hear her but that didn't stop her rabbiting on and I got occasional insight to the lives of the residents of Westfield.

At the end of Westfield lane we found ourselves in the familiar surroundings of Long Crendon, carefully avoided the coffee shop and turned toward Chilton with plans afoot to turn right for Chearsley and approach Ashendon via a gentle, relatively rolling, hill. However, a last minute decision was to return home the quicker way via Chilton and Dorton (we nipped through Ashfold school for a last little off-road moment) and, despite my bike chain throwing itself off in protest, we climbed wearily up Brick Hill to home and breakfast cooked by our boys.