A running joke I used to have with my southern-based cyclist friends was about hills. I grew just on the outskirts of the Peak District where it’s possible to find twenty lung-busters in one day’s ride. Up and down, up and down, all day long.
The definition of a “hill” was often debated late into the night.
That was until I cycled in the West Country, which in some parts can be absolutely brutal. So I ceased to mock my southern softie mates and now embrace every opportunity to cycle in different parts of the country. Even those below Watford Gap services.
I was in West Sussex for a weekend in December, the weather was cold with clear skies (my favourite), so I ventured out from Bognor Regis towards the South Downs. Having only really driven through this area, I knew there were a couple of lumps to overcome but the view at the top of the first hill (eight miles in) just past Goodwood Racecourse was truly spectacular.
A long windy road with perfect tarmac took me into the valley below. As I do quite regularly when cycling in a new place, I was winging it, using the sun to give me a rough idea of the compass points, and choosing roads at random.
This strategy on the whole is the perfect way of exploring a new area, of feeling totally free and having a mini-adventure. That is, until your road suddenly turns into less than a road.
Now I don’t mind a bit of rough roading, even on a road bike (if you’ve ever seen photos of some of the recces we’ve done over the years, you’d understand), but this was beginning to look like puncture heaven.
Luckily, I had my favourite tyres on, the Bontrager Hardcase Lite on. Yes, I’ve ranted about them before, and I’m not even sure you can buy them anymore, but they really are superb. Road = 0, Tyres = 1.
I made it through the sludge and pot holes to more pleasant roads and had racked up a good 40 miles. I was feeling great, the sun was still shining, and I got that feeling that you can only get whilst out on a bike, lungs full of fresh air and a slight chill to your face. I was loving this and loving the South Downs!
I stopped in Petworth for lunch and instantly fell in love with the place…it was like going back in time! The ancient streets were hosting a Christmas fayre selling everything from candy floss (the vendor tried to convince me it was the secret behind Sir Bradley Wiggins’ success) to handmade trugs, it was a truly magical place to be (have to go back!). I couldn’t stop for long however, I had to get back!
My ride finished my crossing back over the South Downs, to the coast then followed the shore back to Bognor. What a fantastic ride!
I’ve had the chance to talk to cyclists from all over the country (and the world) over the past ten years and I’ve come to the conclusion that it is this feeling (that I haven’t done any justice in explaining) that makes cycling so addictive.
I’ve met a good number of people who only cycle to race, to “compete” in Sportives and constantly push themselves to their limits. Having never really done this and having no real desire to do this, I’ll keep on taking it nice and easy, going on mini-adventures where my vehicle is a bicycle, a multi-sensory, human-powered pinnacle of engineering that gets me from A to B with a whole world of exploration in between. A great way to spend a day in the South.
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