An Autumnal Ride to The Naze (C#43)

Wednesday 21 September, 117 Miles

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I stuck my head out the back door this morning and was greeted by the sight of my breath on the air and the remnants of some overnight mist. Brrr! I’m pretty certain that autumn has now arrived. Well, we can always hope for an Indian summer. But do you know what an Indian summer is and where the phrase comes from? I wasn’t that sure so I did a bit of research on the interweb.

Since 1916 the Met Office has defined it as “a warm, calm spell of weather occurring in autumn, especially in October and November.” So let’s all keep our fingers crossed so that we can enjoy some extra riding time. The origins of the phrase are not entirely clear. The balance of opinion is that it refers to conditions that enabled Native American Indians to continue hunting beyond September. The first record of the term being used dates from 1778 in a letter from a Frenchman called John de Crevecoeur dated 17 January 1778. In his description of the Mohawk country he wrote "Sometimes the rain is followed by an interval of calm and warm which is called the Indian summer." There you go.

Great Finborough church spire peeping through the morning mist

So whatever the terminology, the weather today hinted at excellent riding conditions. With a bit of luck, as the sun rose the mist would clear and temperatures would rise. And, as far as I could tell there was no prospect of rain. So I set off hoping that I wouldn’t be disappointed. As I rode along there were some excellent views with villages, and especially their church towers and spires, poking out above the low lying mist. However, as I headed southeast towards Bildeston and Hadleigh the mist got thicker and became more fog-like with visibility reducing. And there was I riding without any lights. Passing through Hadleigh though the foggy mists disappeared completely. It was almost like going through a door from a dark room into a well-lit one. The sun also decided that it was time to come out and play as the clouds lifted. The early morning chill had gone and I could feel the rays warming my forearms. Time to remove my arm warmers. What bliss!

Crossing over the A12 and passing through Manningtree I was into countryside that I’ve never ridden in. I was soon at Mistley with its rather splendid warehouses close to the quayside on the banks of the River Stour. The other rather striking architectural feature are the Mistley Towers which are all that remain of the church which was originally designed in the 1770’s by Robert Adam – one of only two churches that he was responsible for. Sadly, the main body of the church was demolished in 1870 when a new, larger church was built nearby. Only the two towers now survive from the original church.

Putting Mistley behind me I rode on to Walton-on-the-Naze on the coast. Although I didn’t stay there very long it struck me as quite a nice place; a smallish, intimate seaside town with a distinctive character. Well, that based on only a few minutes observation so I could be well wide of the mark. The pier is the second longest in Britain. Just down the coast is Clacton-on-Sea which, as it’s a much larger place, I’m guessing is more like the typical seaside resort. Time didn’t allow me to extend the ride to Clacton so I’ll have to sit on the fence for now in terms of expressing any opinions.

Leaving the coast behind I turned northwest and rode inland, passing to the north of Colchester and back into south Suffolk. From Dedham to Lavenham I passed through a succession of extremely pretty and largely undeveloped villages and hamlets. Higham, Thorington Street, Stoke-by-Nayland and Boxford were each lovely. This was delightful countryside and certainly put a spring into my pedalling as the miles clocked up. I must make a point of coming back and spending more time in this area, riding round the lanes. Once again, I was surprised at how much variety there is in Suffolk’s countryside – it’s just waiting to be explored. Well, by me at least! So, watch this space …….

Queen Adelaide and the 10 Mile Bank (C#42)

Sunday 18 September, 106 Miles

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Tuesday through Thursday of last week record-breaking temperatures were being recorded. I know this as I sweated through them. By Friday and Saturday things had turned nasty with heavy rain and high winds – not the weather for riding. Today was what I would describe as yer average autumn day – cool, light winds, overcast skies. But also good for riding. So it was relief here that I could get in the saddle again.

A few weeks ago on My Deer and Denver ride (C#22) I had ridden past Queen Adelaide, the place, not the person. This had piqued my interest so I decided to head over there today and find out a bit more. One of my mates, Daren (Nairo) Morgan had told me I had to go and photograph the level crossings. So, that was the plan.

Getting over to Queen Adelaide was easy enough and I made good time in lights winds and on drying roads. I got a tad annoyed as I reached the edge of the Fens near Mildenhall when I had to ride through some pretty mucky and smelly water which sprayed both me and my bike. So a cleaning session is on the cards back home. As I rode towards Prickwillow I could see the outline of Ely Cathedral to my left through the morning haze. This was a very impressive sight and I could imagine the pilgrims of old feeling mightily relieved when it came in to their view.

Crossing No. 1

Reaching Prickwillow I turned left and was quickly at the sign for Queen Adelaide – and a level crossing. After getting the requisite photo for Nairo I pedaled on and after less than a quarter of a mile I reached another level crossing and took another photo for Nairo. Setting off again I managed to ride 600 feet before reaching – another level crossing! So another photo stop. All this stopping and starting wasn’t helping my average speed though. Looking at the map on my Garmin my heart sunk as I realised that a quarter of a mile further on the road crossed another railway line. This was getting silly! I rode on to discover that there was no level crossing, just a bridge. Relief. Job done.

Crossing No. 2

Crossing No. 3

As far as I can work out, all the level crossings and railway lines are part of some sort of system that enable trains travelling on the three lines that converge at Ely, to turn around. The rails looked shiny so they appear to be still in use. Hmm.  All the trains that I’ve ever seen around these parts are capable of travelling in either direction without turning round. I’ll leave it at that and if any of you are of the trainspotting persuasion then you either probably already know the reasons or can go and delve on the Interweb.

But let’s get back to Queen Adelaide. She was the wife of King William IV who reigned between 1765 and 1837. The Queen hailed from Germany and I was curious to find out what her connection was with this small hamlet in the Fens. My own bit of post-ride research revealed that there was no connection whatsoever. The hamlet of Queen Adelaide, which was established in the 19^th century is named after the village pub which was built when the railways arrived. So there you are.

From Queen Adelaide I then rode north to Littleport which did make me wonder if it had at onetime been near the sea; highly improbable. In fact the name is a translation of the Old English for Little Market Town! Littleport achieved a certain notoriety when Battle of Waterloo veterans rioted in 1816 when they couldn’t find any work.

Leaving Littleport I continued to head north across the Fens along the splendidly named ‘Ten Mile Bank’ which runs along the west side of the River Great Ouse. From time to time the air was filled with the pungent smell of onions as fields of them were ready and waiting to be harvested. I also passed by loads of fields growing maze, which also looks nearly ready to be harvested. As I rode along I was buzzed by a low flying plane. Now, I have a fairly vivid imagination so my thoughts immediately turned to Hitchcock’s ‘North by Northwest’ and the scene where Cary Grant is chased through a cornfield on the Prairies by a crop dusting plane. Like I say, I do have a vivid imagination. My aircraft however continued onwards in a straight line until it disappeared over the horizon.

The remainder of the ride took me gradually east from Downham Market and across the Brecks before I turned south to head for home. There was even a hint of some warm sunshine, but it didn’t last. So I fear that autumn is upon us and am guessing that my days of riding in short sleeves and bib shorts are numbered. I would dearly like to be proved wrong on that score though.

No Particular Place to Go (C#41)

Thursday 15 September, 105 Miles

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For most of my rides I follow a pre-planned route or a route that I’ve ridden before. I have a number of ‘standard’ routes that I ride quite regularly. And this has certainly been the case with my century rides. Today I broke the habit and instead of following a planned route I decided to ride a random one. Basically I set off and made it up as I went along – trying to ride on roads that I haven’t visited for a while. And in the end it all seemed to work out quite well. I’ve put the map of the trip up on the page so you can see where I actually went.

Normally I also write a bit about the route and the ride interspersed with anything else that takes my fancy for a little. Well again I’m going to be different and the only thing that I’ll say about today's ride is that in my quest for a photo I stopped at Old Buckenham to capture some amusing Norfolk dialect.

When I’m riding, apart from either looking at the scenery or other road users, I tend to do a lot of thinking. Much of this is pretty random stuff that you don’t want to know about. But today was perhaps a little different so, at the risk of inflicting a stream of consciousness on you, I’m going to share some of these thoughts.

Listening to the radio at breakfast I'd heard that some Russian hackers had got into WADA’s computer files and helped themselves to the medical records of several athletes, including Sir Wiggins and the Froomedog. This set me thinking about cycling dopers (which don’t include the aforementioned riders). Inevitably, I landed on Lance Armstrong and then thought that life was too short to spend it pontificating about cheats like him. So just let me say that when it all came out I felt incredibly let down and betrayed – as a keen cyclist and supporter of the sport.

I quickly moved on and started thinking about where the boundaries lie, or perhaps should lie, between fair competition and the (over)use of technology. When I started cycling the frames of choice were made from steel tubing – Reynolds 531 or 753 being the best. Now, we have carbon monocoque frames which are both incredibly light and strong. Frames are designed to maximize aerodynamic efficiency. To set the boundaries, the UCI, Cycling’s world governing body, has established some standards and competition frame designs are approved by them. My Bianchi’s all carry the UCI approval sticker.

Components have improved beyond all recognition. Gone are the days of clunky, imprecise manual gear change mechanisms. Today closely indexed gear systems, often with electronic controls are the norm. And instead of 10 gears today’s bikes have 20 or 22 close ratio set ups to maximize the output and efficiency of pedalling. Clothing too has evolved. My early riding days were done wearing wool clothing, usually fairly loosely fitting which would double and triple in weight if it rained or when (not if) I stared to sweat. Today aerodynamic lycra is the norm and the materials used are usually breathable and fast drying if not water repellant.

Fuel has also changed. In the ‘good old days’ I often used to carry a jam or peanut buttie in my back pocket together with a banana. (I still carry a banana from time to time as some things are hard to beat.) Nowadays scientifically developed gels and energy bars are the norm, designed to refuel riders quickly. Whole books have been written on the subject.

Ideas about training have changed too. Today’s riders have access to huge amounts of data to record and assess their efforts in real time. Heart rate and power output are the watchwords. My first cycling ‘computer’ was a small odometer which fitted on to the base of the front fork and mechanically recorded the distance ridden. The clicking of the gadget was a sort of reassuring sound of progress. Effort and the like was ‘measured’ in terms of tiredness – during the ride and after.

So my thoughts were very much along the lines of where is the limit for what is a physical sport and test of strength – rider against rider? Is cycling getting too technology driven for its own good and is the massive investment made in the technology forcing riders down the doping route in order to perform and reap the rewards for their teams and sponsors?

One of my cycling icons is Barry Hoban who I had the honour to meet a couple of years ago. I remember reading the story of him working in Yorkshire then riding over the Pennines in the evening to compete in track races in Manchester and then riding back to Yorkshire after the track meet was finished. Apparently he rode his fixed wheel (i.e. single speed) track bike all the way there, turning the rear wheel around to get a higher gear for the track and then reversing the process before riding home. Now of course I’m not advocating that for today – I’d probably be lynched if I did. But it was the sort of approach to riding that really inspired me and I like to think that when I’m at a tough point on a century ride and struggling I can call on Barry for some inspiration.

So my conclusion is we mustn’t forget that ultimately the challenge is about athletes competing against each other so that the best one wins. Technology can and does help, but it is always the athlete, the cyclist, who has to be supreme. And, as I was reminded by the Norfolk prose in Old Buckenham: “Watch Yar Speed Ma Ole Booty”. Although of course, they meant it for a rather different reason!