Vuelta a Norfolk (C#36)
Sunday 4 September, 128 Miles
I spent part of yesterday evening watching the
highlights of Stage 14 of the Vuelta a España. What an exciting stage; professional road racing at
its very best. To watch Nairo Quintana and the Froomedog battling it out on the
slopes of the Col d’Aubisque was breathtaking. I can’t even begin to understand
where they get the strength to climb at the speed they do. And Simon Yates
phenomenal attack in the latter part of the race totally lit it up. Robert
Gesink was a very worthy winner and the fact that he was riding a Bianchi
absolutely made my day.
So without in any way wishing to trivialize the
achievements of yesterday I decided that today’s century would be a celebration of
yesterday’s Vuelta stage – my own Vuelta a Norfolk! One thing I didn’t realise
was that the word ‘Vuelta’ translates to ‘Return’ – at least according to
Google, so that seems doubly fitting as it’s been a few weeks since I last did
a ‘proper’ Norfolk century. And to make the ride even more enjoyable I was
joined by Daren, a friend who rode the in the Fens with me a few weeks ago (C#26).
Daren's away on a break |
We had arranged to meet in East Harling so I
rode the extra 9 miles to get there and Daren arrived soon after. The leader of
the Vuelta traditionally wears a red jersey and as Daren emerged from his car I
could see that he had come suitably clothed. Clearly Nairo Daren had his own
ideas about who was ‘le patron’. I was going to be a mere domestique today!
Perhaps I should have worn a white jersey to match the Froomedog? Instead I was
sporting a rather fetching celeste spotted jersey. Well that was my view. Daren
quickly unloaded his Bianchi and we were soon lined up for le grand depart.
After a false start when Daren remembered that he’d left his heart rate monitor in the car we were soon riding north into a
fairly testing headwind towards Watton and the Swaffham. Leaving Swaffham I
started to feel that we were entering new territory – crossing north of the A47
feels to me like crossing a frontier simply because then I know that I’m on a
big ride.
Despite the headwind we were soon into North
Norfolk with its undulating ridges and what felt like some quite isolated and
lonely countryside. By now my legs were starting to feel the effort but we were
maintaining a good pace. I say ‘we’ but Daren did most of the leading as I
practiced my drafting technique. Well Daren is quite a lot younger than me and
he was wearing the leader’s red jersey so I was quite cool about taking
shelter.
As we rode along we started chatting about a
friend of ours, another Bianchi rider who has recently joined the Passione
Celeste Movement. Tracy started riding seriously about 9 months ago and in June
at the Tour of Cambridgeshire she qualified to ride in the World Championships
in Perth. That’s Perth, Australia not the other one. Daren has been doing a
great job helping Tracy to train and today was the day of the championships. In
fact, by the time we started Tracy had already finished. She finished 28th
and was the 3rd placed British lady. So that was a fantastic result for
her and even more cause for celebration by us. I am hoping that Tracy will join
Daren and me for another century ride before too long. It will be an honour to
ride with her.
That spotted or is it spotty jersey |
Finally, we were able to turn eastwards and
escape the headwind and then after a few miles started to head south with more
of a tailwind. This both boosted our morale and our speed. To add variety, we
rode on what I had told Daren was Norfolk’s answer to cobbles – a concrete slab
road which certainly made its presence felt. Feeling in need of some
refreshment we stopped at the Plume of Feathers pub for a sandwich lunch. The
food etc. was fine; the landlord did seem less than interested in us and the
service would best be described as perfunctory – nothing wrong, northing
memorable.
Suitably refreshed we were soon underway
heading southwards. One amusing, well to me anyway, incident occurred as we
passed through the village of Shipdham. Approaching a junction Daren mentioned
that some friends lived in a house that we were about to pass. As we turned we
saw one of the friends outside painting the window frames so we pulled up for
Daren to say hello. It soon became apparent to me that neither had seen the other for
a while and also that the friend had some interesting insights to Daren’s past.
Now readers, at this point all I am going to say is that my silence can be
bought for the right price. So, feel free to get in touch!
Much as we would have both enjoyed the
offered coffee and I would certainly have enjoyed hearing more of the gossip, we
were conscious that we needed to keep riding so sadly had to set off again.
Daren was a tad subdued for the next couple of miles as I ribbed him with my
new knowledge. But we were soon both focused fully on the ride – occasional crosswinds
at gaps in the hedges meant we had to concentrate all the time to avoid being
blown across the road.
All too soon we were back at East Harling
where we enjoyed a drink, shook hands and then parted company. Daren to drive home;
me to ride the final 9 miles. By the time I got home I had covered 128 miles,
my longest century of the series so far. Although slightly further than the
Vuelta’s Stage 14 it was undoubtedly easier. Much easier. And a good way to
celebrate some fantastic achievements – in Spain and in Australia. Passione
celeste!
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