Perfect conditions were forecast for yesterday – mostly sunny, not too warm, dry and unusually light winds. Occasional cloud cover, to give a bit of respite from the sun in the afternoon. Three live football matches to listen to on my DAB personal radio (always a joy when out on a bike). So I booked a final annual leave day to perform my yearly ritual of cycling to the edge of Norfolk and back. I planned a route that would take me a slightly different way than I’d done previously and come back a different way again; about 175 miles in all.
I went to bed at 2300 on Wednesday night with the intention of getting up at 0330, but I didn’t sleep. I got up at about 0245, and set off at 0350.
It was cold at that time of the morning of course but I was wearing several layers of clothing including cycling tights, and was warm enough. There was enough light in the pre-dawn gloom, 50 minutes before sunrise, to see the road well enough so I just used a basic blinking LED front light. Last time I did this ride a year ago, I’d set off nearly an hour earlier. It was a lot darker for the first hour and I was much colder. Probably didn’t think it through properly, but I can be impulsive sometimes. It’s not an ideal character trait for a system engineer. But I digress.
Anyway, I arrived at my favourite village shop at Buckminster after 38 miles. Had a second breakfast at one of the benches outside. I’d hoped to be able to remove a couple of layers of clothing by this time but the temperature hadn’t climbed as much as I’d expected – so I left them on. My route after Buckminster took me east a different way than I normally go, through Castle Bytham, Witham on the Hill, Manthorpe and Thurlby. At Thurlby, 58 miles into the ride I was finally convinced that the air temperature was warm enough to strip down to minimal cycling clothing. So I removed my long-sleeved cycling jacket, fleece, gloves and tights as well as a spare bike light and packed them into a camo-pattern nylon bag, which I then obscured in the nether regions of a hedge next to a distinctive farm gate. I’ve used this tactic before, as regular readers may remember. It’s very handy for avoiding carrying unnecessary weight over long distances. The key thing of course is to remember exactly where you stashed your stuff.
I had another rest-and-refuel stop at a lovely caff overlooking a pond near Deeping St Nicholas after 67 miles, then again at Tydd Gate after 86 miles, not far from my eventual destination – Sutton Bridge. And when I got there, 20 minutes later, an inner voice spoke to me. “Why don’t you try for 200 miles?”, it said.
The first 89 had been a breeze. Conditions had been ideal; the scenery had mostly been lovely. I’d taken it easy and was in good spirits. Sometimes if you’re unhappy about something – the state of the roads, the temperature, the traffic – that can wear you down a little on a long ride but I’d had no problems at all yesterday. I’d done a 200-miler once before, in 2020 – but I was a young lad of 59 then. I’d sometimes wondered, this past couple of years, if I could do it again.
It would mean that I’d be home a couple of hours later than I’d planned, but the sun was due to set very late – and of course because I’d set off before sunrise, I had lights with me for the last hour post-sunset. As it happens a bright full moon was due as well, though of course I hadn’t actually checked that in advance.
So I decided to go for it. I made up most of the extra distance by doing a bit of extra-curricular exploring in the eastern part of Lincolnshire where the terrain was very flat, and before I’d have to pick up the extra weight of my stashed cycling clothing at Thurlby. I didn’t do this particularly imaginatively or carefully. I somehow managed to visit a cute little market town called Market Deeping twice. But it was fun nonetheless.
I’d uploaded my original route to my Garmin eTrex. It was hugely helpful to have a touch-screen map mounted on my handlebar, even when I went off-piste. Much better than stopping to check a phone app every 15 minutes.
The ride back west was pleasant and uneventful. I came back a longer way over the last 30 miles, to make up the remaining distance deficit.
The temperature dropped very quickly as I came down the hill toward Burton on the Wolds. I must have descended into a pool of cold air. I stopped a couple of miles later at a huge log next to Stamford Lane to put my additional cycling clothing back on, and put my lights on. Farmers sometimes deposit these massive bits of tree next to unused entrances to their land, to stop people driving into their fields and stealing cattle. Or something. But they provide useful roadside seating for cyclists. The sun had just set. I rested for 15 minutes and ate a cornish pasty I’d bought. Then I set off to do the remaining 15 miles. I arrived home at 2330. I’d done 201 miles. Beat my previous record by about half a mile.
I did suck some of the fun out of that ride in the planning stage. For some of the territory in Lincolnshire, I used charmless A roads rather than the distinctive straight, narrow tracks that run along the drainage channels in the beautiful desolation of the Fenlands. But since I picked up two punctures on a ride over there last year I’m a bit more cautious. I like well-established roads on long rides.
That was, I must say, a lot easier than my first 200 mile ride. On that occasion, each of the last 20 miles seemed to pass like 10. Over the last 5 miles I was stopping to lean against a lamp post and cry every ten minutes. This time, while I was certainly tired over the last 15, I didn’t suffer.
My arms got a bit sunburned unfortunately, but I have lovely sharp tanlines on my legs.
Happy to have done a 200 miler again. I don’t think I’ll ever do another one. But of course, I’ve said that before.