The Final Flourish! The Big Finish?

After a camp cooked breakfast to raise the spirits of even the most despondent we were delivered back to the top of Ditchling Beacon. After waving off our boys we set out on our final day of pedalling, looking forward to lunch and (eventually) the big finish.

The weather wasn't too bad (a bit gloomy but dry) and under tyre was soft and grassy with easy tracks so we made excellent progress We even found time to stop and talk to cows and a calf and enjoy the gorgeous surroundings.

Day 2 begins here! Keen as Mustard!!

One short section saw us off our bikes briefly as gradient, tight turns and tree routes made it impossible to stay on board and then we were back on and whizzing along happily. The morning was going brilliantly.

At Rodmell we met fellow cyclists, a dog walker who though it was OK to let her dogs run loose among cattle and 2 very friendly runners who were happy to stop and chat a while. We left them via a very steep grass track over a rutted field and limericks, depicting our potential fate, took hold.

There was a young lady called Amber
Who found herself on a steep camber
She flew round the bend
And met a bad end
Now get well cards we'll all send her

That was the publishable one! Crossing the bull field Sian's limerick involved a rave, a bull called Dave and an early grave.

Up on the high ground we enjoyed fabulous views across the beacons and watched with dismay as the clouds moved closer and closer and lower and lower and got darker and darker. Lunch time soon though - so no problem!

The rain started as we arrived at Black Cap our lunch time meeting place - but what? no van? Andy and Joe arrived first. Van was lost. We had to cycle one more car park to get to them. The wind picked up. The rain took hold. We were very, very cold (there is a limerick in there somewhere). We sat behind the car until van arrived and the speed at which we all jumped into the van was supremely impressive!

Note: I'm still smiling - the wonders of kettle chips!

The bad bit was having to start all over again. With hoods pulled down tight under our cycling helmets we braved the elements and peddalled over the open downs with cross winds swiping at us all the way. It was utterly miserable. It was grim beyond belief. It was total madness. I can't think of any other way to describe it but nasty. It felt like an age until we finally dropped off the hill and started a slippery descent on chalk into Jevington and then eventually into Alfriston. The joy of finding civilisation caused us to lose concentration for a few brief moments. We glided through the village at such pace that a (slight) navigational error was inevitable and eventually re-routed to enjoy a relatively calm trip along the river and through woods.

As the weather brightened so did we and I almost remember the long, long, going onward and upward and never ending chalk track with affection. Really!

And then, all of a sudden, Beachy Head was ahead (tempting but...) and the cruise along the coastline down into Eastbourne was a truly enjoyable event. We arrived in Eastbourne and headed for Tourist Information to end our epic ride. And round the corner stood our lovely, long suffering and ever supportive families together with our slightly bemused friends (Scott, Karen and Charlie) who had 'daytripped' to Eastbourne to see the end of 'the ride' expecting bunting and banners and cheering crowds and were surprised to find they were it.

With much cheering and waving and handing out the all important champagne we were welcomed back to reality. 

Cheers!



And that's it. All over. Watch this space. 2012 is just around the corner.

Bamboozled by Brighton

With Alex recovering in hospital today (after being hit by a car while out walking on Saturday) I turned my thoughts to brighter times and realised we still have to share days 2 and 3 of our South Downs Challenge. Day 2 is hard for me - I have put it off, as the events at the end of our day's cycling still plays on my mind - but here goes.

We were up bright and early and decided to just pop a note through the door of our good samaritan farmer (rather than wake him up) - I hope he got that note and knows just how much we appreciated his field.

Amber didn't appear at first but, after much nagging, she ventured out and her tent was dismantled before she had chance to get back in! and back on our bikes we headed up hill out of Cocking to the South Downs car park by the Cowdray Estate for breakfast.

The scrambled (more frambled) eggs, bread and coffee were not quite up to Master Chef Steve's usual standards but it hit the spot and we set off with purpose to attack the brilliantly named Didling Hill - a downhill that then involves a mile of uphill. After that we then made really good time on a nice (smoothish) track and only stopped for a quick banana skin throwing contest (which Amber won easily - top banana award to her).

Around 10.00 ish we came across lots of runners warming up. Because Belles do stopping to chat best we quickly established that these were the Stage 3 runners of the 3 section relay taking place as part of a half marathon event. With marshalls watching from the bottom of the hill I was absolutely determined to get all the way up a long, steep slippery, rutted chalk, track that ordinarily even I would have walked up! at the top I was rewarded with the opportunity to cheer on the front runners of the relay as I waited for my fellow Belles.



The long hill is the chalk line on the far side heading into trees.



At some point we got a bit lost and found ourselves on a farm track we shouldn't have been on. Surprised by a speeding farmer on a quad bike (really he was going far to fast for a public track) we stopped and suspecting we were on the wrong route we redoubled and found we had missed turn. Female logic is grand. Though you will soon find it failed us later in the day.

We were soon back on track and crossing the river at Amberley. Pub was mentioned in Amberley but we didn't find it - the South Downs Way manages to skirt the entire village and gives no opportunity to get to the ever evident pub with it's very inviting umbrellas. We did take full advantage of the water tap on route though. Aah well, remember this is all for charity!

Lunch eventually came upon us - we had to run a very busy A road but on the far side Steve and Annalise were waiting in the car park (Washington I think) with a fabulous feast of handmade sarnies (from a little shop in Brighton where these 2 had been to play on the beach and for us seemed so far away) and strawberries, oh the strawberries were a true inspiration. Their efforts were slightly outshined by the Korean MB support team who arrived and set up a table then loaded it with a high calorie, protein filled feast for the team in training who were today doing the entire length of the South Downs Way - honestly there are times when...

With tummys full we set off uphill on a loose stony track and just kept going. The track opens up onto downland for the first time today and we found ourselves on a beautiful sweeping grassy track that was soft under saddle (for a while). Here we 'reunited' with a couple we had met yesterday and stopped for a catch up - they had been concerned about us and where we would end up so we had to tell them the cock up story. Tonight they are stopping at Truleigh Hill YHA - we have quite a bit further than that to do so waved farewell and trundled on.

This is a ride for meeting lovely people. Next we met a horse rider and her fabulously crazy boyfriend who was happy to walk alongside to open gates. Also a couple of (older) ladies were cycling at their own pace and having a wonderful time. Oh, we also came across the Koreans again waiting to serve afternoon tea to their chaps - no Steve and Annalise here though - no wonder the Koreans can do it in a day!

Up to Truleigh Hill and over Devils Dyke the views are amazing - the new Brighton and Hove Albion football stadium was ever present and eventually we could see the sea before we dropped off the ridge and came to a small village (Saddlescombe I think) and hurrah, hurrah we found a tea stand where we had the honour of being last customers of the day and had our coffee topped up for free.

From here the phone calls began - the boys had found a campsite and were pitching tents and wanted to know how long we would be - we hadn't got a clue of course but were now feeling the day was coming to a close. Then disaster, we got lost. Not very lost but lost enough to get confused. We somehow had missed a turn just before the A23 and didn't realise. We followed our route directions and they worked perfectly, logic and instinct didn't tell us we were about half a mile short of where we should be as we crossed the bridge over the A23. Here it became obvious we were not on route. We found a friendly mountain biking local and asked advice.

No problem said he - go up the road, round the corner and up the road again then take any (yes any) bridlepath to the left and it will bring you back up to the South Downs Way. So, it was a slight diversion but it saved us having to back track and we felt it was OK to miss a little bit. Big mistake.

We managed to get on the only (any) bridlepath that ended up as a dead end on a footpath. We couldn't see the South Downs Way and we really didn't want to lift our bikes over anymore stiles. My sense of direction is good and, despite the stiles, I felt we were headed in the right direction (and this was proven by my sat nav on phone). However, nerves were stretched and tiredness was taking hold and now, we had a stile to lift over.

Before I admit to what happened next, I would like to present a case for my defence. I was feeling quite sick with nerves. True I had the courage of conviction that we were close on route but I didn't know which side of Ditchling we were at and I was absolutely dreading the thought of the Belles reaction to discovering we had to cycle Ditchling Beacon. I simply didn't realise the South Downs Way crosses the top of this infamous local landmark and that we were already up top. So, I was very, very worried. (Case dismissed - no not really!).

Poor Vicky (of all people) 'whinged' just a little about the stile and my nerve cracked. We lifted 3 bikes over the stile and (unfortunately) Vicky turned away before my bike had made the crossing. So, oh this is hard to say, I did something I am truly ashamed of...

...I threw my bike over the stile. My poor bike that has served me so well. And, I threw it without even thinking what it could do to Vicky (nothing luckily). I then got on my bike and peddled off leaving 3 stunned (though still stroppy) Belles behind me. I hit the road and was relieved to spot (before the spectre of Ditchling Beacon had chance to present itself) a Green RS Focus coming along the road - hooray for Andy and the smiling Joe! They stopped briefly then drove on to find the others giving me time to calm down in a layby while waiting for them to find the others and get their bikes onto his car before coming back for me.

We then drove down Ditchling Beacon into the village and out the other side to a lovely little campsite with tents pitched, basic (but functional) loos, a shower and no rain.

Wine, chips and the thought of being able to sleep in properly put up tents with duvets and pumped up mattresses, soon calmed the nerves and we got on with entertaining our boys with stories of the day and discovering the delights of the toilet at the camp site!

Alex, Amber and Vicky all know how sorry I am about 'the incident' but still, to this day, I am truly ashamed and often wonder if, in that short moment, I took the shine off the Pollicott Belles just a little bit. For now, though, we have more important issues to consider - how to get Alex mended and back on a bike?

I dedicate this blog edition to my lovely friend Alex and hope the arm mends fast.

Camping Cock up in Cocking

The pain has passed and it’s time we shared some of the highs and lows of our trip along the South Downs Way. I am going to start with the camping cock up in Cocking.

Day One took 13 hours of hard pedalling (don’t ask me why – we didn’t let up any) - and despite meeting some lovely people we were all getting despondent as we neared the end of the day.

Then phone calls started to come in from our support team (problems afoot) and supporters club (which pub are you in?) which slowed us down even more AND added to the trauma.

Earlier in the day space at Graffham campsite was confirmed as ours. A nice campsite with showers and a pub nearby - wonderful - that thought had spurred us on. However when our support crew arrived they were told our tents had to be erected by 8pm or we would lose our space - because Caravan Club Rules cannot be broken under any circumstances. I'm not going to go into why our tents were not immediately put up but the long and short of it is that we lost our space and needed to find an alternative place to sleep.

On the trail we Belles could do nothing about it but pedal and hope the problem would sort itself by the time we arrived. Frantic calls were being made out of the black van but no solution had been identified by the time we arrived at Cocking.

There were plenty of fields around so Vicky and Amber went in search of a house and found a very helpful lady in a nearby cottage. Turns out this is all Cowdray estate land and she phoned the estate manager who was categoric that NO camping could be done on his land. So that was not an option. With tempers extremely frayed and potential for saying things we might regret, we turned our focus on a car park and were debating illegal camping when my brother Rob (supporters club coming to join us for a quick drink) declared the problem solved.

Rob and the Bluebell pub in Cocking had, between them, got it all sorted. 10 minutes later (at 10pm) we found ourselves pitching camp in the dark, in a long grassed field, in the rain, for a night of ‘wild camping’ courtesy of an elderly farmer who (as Rob put it) quite fancied the idea of 4 lovely ladies sleeping in his field overnight. He is such a salesman that boy!

As tents were pitched by all hands (including Heather and Tom my niece and nephew who impressively got one tent up all by themselves) Suzy and Rob went in search of food - which they found at the local Spar. (It was another downer to find that the Spa (reportedly along the road) turned out to be a Spar!).

So it was soggy sandwiches in the back of the van rather than a hot tub and sauna before a quick drink at the Bluebell (with their ladies loos spookily labelled ‘Belles’ - it was meant to be) followed by a second night of less than comfortable, cold, sleeping with rain a'drumming on the tent and Vicky providing my night time 'entertainment'.

Next morning, on discovery that we had not, after all, died from hyperthermia in the night, we dragged ourselves out of bed (and then we all dragged Amber out) for another day of fun on the trail - starting with a breakfast of scrambled eggs on bread and coffee in the car park.  

Congratulations Belles

We had this lovely letter from Helen & Douglas House. Perhaps it will inspire others to do something similar, sponsor us a little bit more (and/or us Belles to take on another challenge next year!). Here it is (thank you Helen):

Congratulations

Congratulations for completing your South Downs Cycle- I hope all the Pollicott Belles enjoyed the adventure! Please accept my apologies for the delay in sending this e-mail, there have been a few change overs in our team and this seemed to have slipped through the net until now.

I enjoyed reading over your blog and the amount the team has raised is truly amazing. I can see from your Justgiving page that you actually doubled the intended fundraising target, which is absolutely brilliant! To give you all some idea how this donation could be put to good use it would be enough to employ a Care Team member for nearly three weeks. This is a vital contribution as it allows us to continue providing the one to one care that is so essential for the children and young people that visit us here. It allows all their medical needs to be taken care of, as well as helping them to participate in different activities that they might not be able to at home.

I would also like to take this opportunity to invite you and the other ‘belles’ to our annual Open Day on September 10th. Both the houses are open from 10am-4pm with plenty of music and entertainment for the whole family. If you would like further details do let me know.

Thank you for the generous support of the Pollicott Belles your donation really will make a huge difference to the children and young people that visit Helen & Douglas House.

With best wishes,
Helen Cordiner
Fundraising Administration & Support Officer

‘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.