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.
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| 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.
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.
