Sunny North Norfolk and a Teddy Bears Picnic (LGD -300 Days)

Monday 17 July 2017, 115 Miles

Click here for Route Flyby

Unlike yesterday which was defined by a leaden-grey overcast sky, sunshine was on the menu today. And what better way to enjoy it than a ride up towards the North Norfolk coast. I was on the road by 7:45 am bound initially for Castle Acre. It is one of those simply delightful villages that is absolutely overflowing with history. The village takes its name from the walled 11 and 12^th century Norman castle. The castle was founded shortly after the Battle of Hastings by William de Warenne (the first Earl of Surrey) and an associate of William the Conqueror. The Bailey Gate, which I rode under reinforces the power of the castle’s defences. If that wasn’t enough, the now ruined Priory, which was established in 1090, is one of England’s best-preserved monastic sites.

The water meadows to the west of the village date from the 17^th century and a complex system of ridges and channels was used early in the year to run water across the slopes and valley bottom. This ensured the availability of good pasture early in the year for livestock with a good hay crop later in the year. About 25 years ago I took part in a visit around the meadows, led by a local archaeologist who provided a captivating account of the agricultural practices of the time and their impact on the economy of the village. The ridges and channels are still visible today – if you look closely. Oh, there is one other piece of information that I must share with you. Castle Acre sausages, made to a secret recipe, are legendary. Although they are no longer available in the village, a visit to Impson’s Butchers in nearby Swaffham will reward you.

From Castle Acre I continued northwards and gently upwards along an old Roman Road and part of the Peddars Way National Trail arriving eventually at the entrance to Houghton Hall. This was built in the 1720’s for Britain’s first Prime Minister, Sir Robert Walpole. It sits in an impressive deer park. Sadly, the Hall has had a chequered history but shortly after World War 1 the house was restored to its former glory by the then owner, the Marquess of Cholmondeley. Today it is open to the public and houses an impressive collection of art and artefacts. This summer, Richard Long the Turner Prize-winning landscape artist has an exhibition (Earth Sky) in the grounds. Reading about the exhibition on the Hall’s website is enticing me to make a return visit and see the exhibition for myself.

Leaving Houghton I headed for Burnham Market where, being the halfway point of the ride, I had planned to stop for some refreshments. Unfortunately the place was awash with what felt like half the population of East Anglia attending what looked like an upmarket outdoor bric‑à‑brac sale. Faced with this I decided to put my fall-back plan into action and I carried on to a rather nice café on the site of the former Creake Abbey. An excellent and very generous slice of coffee and walnut cake washed down with a cappuccino set me up for the homeward 55 miles. Looking at the map when I got back home I discovered that I had been just a couple of miles from the site of Nelson’s birthplace so I’ve made a mental note to look that up when I’m next here. All the threshold signs for Norfolk refer to Nelson’s County, presumably as a tourist marketing gimmick, sorry ‘thing’.

The return leg took me through Fakenham and a busy Dereham towards the edge of Attleborough. Just before Attleborough I passed through Great Ellingham which I have written about before – specifically the astronomical telescope (see blog for 29 October 2016). I may have underestimated the place though since today I came across another great surprise – a Teddy Bear Trail. This is part of a bigger Teddy Bear Festival which was started in 2004. The Festival raises money for good causes but its main aim is to celebrate village life an encourage community spirit – the motto of the Festival is “Teddy bears are a sign of comfort and friendship.” Well, in an era where everyone seems to be in a hurry and wrapped up in their own worlds anything that encourages people to acknowledge each other and be sociable has to be a good thing. Of course, the friendly wave that (most) cyclists give each other as they pass by shows that we are ahead of the curve. So on that cheery note readers, I’ll sign off here.

Flat Out in the Fens (LGD -301 Days)

Sunday 16 July 2017, 105 Miles

Click here for Route Flyby

With the prospect of dry weather and a wind that should be in the ‘right’ direction (i.e. tailwind home) I decided to head out on to the Fens. My route took me through part of Thetford Forest and to Brandon and then north to Stoke Ferry where I then headed for Denver and the Fens. Turning south I rode along Ten Mile Bank. I still haven’t been able to find out the reason for the name. (Note to self: must try harder.) From the hamlet of Ten Mile Bank (no clues there) I headed deeper into the Fens bound for Welney, Pyemoor and Little Downham.

I decided to ring the changes and head for Littleport via Ely as I haven’t ever ridden on the minor road by the River Ouse. I had one minor moment of excitement along this stretch though. Leaving Ely, I was riding along quite happily, soaking up the atmosphere (the pungent smell of onions being harvested) when another rider pulled alongside me. With a cheery “Good morning. It would be rude to draught you for too long.” the other rider upped the pace and overtook me. A reasonable gap of about one quarter mile opened up fairly quickly. I definitely wasn’t up for any sprinting or chasing and instead just carried on riding at my usual sustainable pace.

Within anther quarter mile I realised that I was no gaining on ‘the speedy cyclist’ and pretty quickly too. I could see him ahead of me, shoulders rolling and struggling to push a big gear. I just carried on doing my own thing, turning the cranks round between 85 and 90rpm. The gap continued to close. My satisfaction and the other rider’s self-esteem was saved by a set of temporary traffic lights on the edge of Littleport. He passed them before they turned to red. I was about 50 yards back and had to stop. I then turned back south for Queen Adelaide; the other fella carried on northwards.  From Queen Adelaide I completed the ride by heading for Red Lodge, with a refreshment stop at the Co-op in Isleham, and then back home through West Stow and Great Barton. The promised tailwind was a big help too.

Following my little chase I found myself thinking about the Froomedog and his way of responding to attacks on the steep climbs of the Tour. It’s a bit like mine! Basically he sets a pace that he can sustain and (usually) with the help of his team mates he gradually closes down any escapees who might challenge him for the General Classification. And most times this works in his favour. But not always. On Thursday's stage to Peyragudes he ran out of gas on the final, viscous short ascent to the finish. The sight of him weaving from side to side across the road just to keep moving phill over the final 500 metres was a measure of how tired he was. Fabio Aru capitalised on this and nabbed the Yellow Jersey from the Froomedog with a lead of 6 seconds. That all changed today though as Fabio rather seemed to lose the plot and drifted backwards towards the back of the lead group instead of staying glued to the Froomedog’s rear wheel. At the finish, the Froomedog was back in yellow with Aru 18 seconds in arrears. Along the way there was some really exciting racing with quite a few incidents. This tour is certainly shaping up to be extremely exciting. It even seems to raise my pulse rate – rather more than a gentle pootle round the Fens does!

A Few Thoughts on Pushing the Boundaries (LGD -304 Days)

Thursday 13 July 2017, 111 Miles

Click here for Route Flyby

It’s been a while since I’ve ridden down to the coast at Orford and I decided to correct that today. As I approached my garage I could hear my Bianchi family chattering away so I eavesdropped on them or a few seconds. In a nutshell, the Infinito and the Impulso seemed to have decided that today was to be the XR1’s day and were making sure that as it hasn’t been to Orford before, it asked for its doughnut. Quite how they knew where we would be going escapes me. We headed off on the ‘standard’ route via Debenham and Woodbridge with a detour to the quayside at Bawdsey before carrying on to Orford.

The XR1 must have a sixth sense or, more likely, it is fully tuned in to the Garmin, because it seemed to pick up the pace as we approached the Pump Street Bakery. In an attempt to confuse it, I directed us past the Bakery and down to the quayside for a quick looksee. Then we doubled back and with a turn of the cranks, we rode past the Bakery for a peek at Orford Castle. Eventually I gave in to the XR1’s protests and we pulled up outside the Bakery which was doing a brisk trade. Fortunately there was a doughnut waiting for the XR1; I had a small (tasting-size) custard tart which restored my depleted sugar levels. Suitably refreshed we turned inland for the 50-mile homeward leg via Saxmundham, Framlingham, Stradbroke and Eye. All in all, a great ride which we both really enjoyed. I spent much of the ride reflecting on events at the Tour de France which has just entered its second week.

The Tour is a demanding and sometimes cruel event. Apart from the physical and mental challenges of riding long distances at speed day after day for 3 weeks, the unforgiving hand of fate can change the course of events in the blink of an eye. Yesterday, Maciej Bodnar got away in a 3-man break soon after the start. With just under 20 miles to the finish, and sensing that the peloton was closing in, Maciej sprinted off the front in the hope of holding out and winning the stage. He almost made it; the peloton caught him 300 yards from the finish line. After being out front for over 120 miles, being invited onto the podium to receive the day’s combativity award must have felt like a meagre reward for his efforts.

Other riders have been even unluckier. Alejandro Valverde went into a corner too hot on the opening time trail stage and in the wet conditions his back wheel slid away so that he ended up crashing into the barriers and breaking his knee. For him, it was Tour over after only a few short minutes. Mark Cavendish who had been hoping to beat Eddy Merckx’s record for the most stage wins broke his collarbone in a high-speed finish line crash and was out of the race. In a controversial decision, World Champion Peter Sagan, chasing a record-equalling sixth Green Jersey, was expelled from the race for his part in Cavendish’s crash.

Stage 9 saw its share of casualties too. On a wet and highly technical (i.e. twisty) descent of the Mont du Chat, Richie Porte, who was in with a real chance for the Yellow Jersey, lost control and hit a rock face at high speed breaking his shoulder and pelvis. Dan Martin who was riding close to him was also brought down but was able to remount and continue. Earlier in the stage, all-round Mr Nice Guy Geraint Thomas crashed on the descent of the Col de la Biche breaking his collar bone. Although he remounted and tried to continue it soon became obvious that this wasn’t going to be an option. With his trademark good-humour he posted a photo of his torn and bloody jersey on Instagram saying it was for sale – “not in 100% condition”.

Disappointing as it may be for them, all of these riders will probably have another opportunity at glory in La Grande Boucle. Others have not been so fortunate. Today is the fiftieth anniversary of Tom Simpson’s death on the Mont Ventoux stage of 1967’s Tour. “Mr Tom” has he was widely known was the first British professional rider to achieve major success in Europe. He finished sixth overall in the 1962 Tour and was the first British rider to wear the Yellow Jersey. His impressive palmarès include World Champion in 1965 and a host of one day and classic races.

There’s a monument to him beside the spot where he fell and cyclists from all over the world visit it and bring their mementoes to honour this great rider. A memorial fund was created in 1996 to ensure the monument is maintained in good condition. There’s another similar monument in Harworth, Notts where Tom began his cycling career. This year’s Tour isn’t ascending Mont Ventoux. But hundreds of people, Tom’s family, friends and fans, are expected to get together at the memorial stone to pay tribute to him. And Tom’s daughter, Joanne, will ride to the summit before opening 13 granite steps leading to the stone. I hope that one day I will have an opportunity to ride up Ventoux and stop along the way to offer my respects. Instead, today I spent a lot of my ride contemplating what drives professional cyclists to push themselves to the limits and sometimes beyond. And I found a quiet place to stop and observe a minute’s silence for Mr Tom.