In at the deep end

On Friday we proved that we are certifiably insane when we started our first day of cycling. Evidenced by the following statistics from my cycle computer for the day; distance 134km, average speed 15.2km/hr, cycling time 8hrs47min, odometer153.7km.

Nic's brother lives in Winchester, and his uncle and aunt whom have been showing us around and very kindly putting us up while we sort bikes, live in Nailsea, near Bristol. We decided that one day would be enough to get between the two places. Possibly a mistake, (I am still waiting for normal sensation to return to my buttocks).

Nic in preparation had printed out the step by step directions from Google maps for walking directions (that technically keeps us off most of the main roads and motorways). Bikes were collected on Thursday evening, very exciting to finally get our green machines, however it was slightly painful and marred by the fact that the bike shop took about 2 ½ hours to fit mud guards, pannier racks and speedometers, making us incredibly late for the beautiful dinner of caramalised ginger and shallot salmon that Nic's aunt Carol had made for us. We didn't get home until 8.30pm!Last minute packing of panniers completed, discarded packs stuffed with surplus clothing, fiddling of seats and pannier racks done, we finally got to sleep about midnight.

We woke at 7am with the slightly nervous feeling that precedes our completely non-competitive forays into the world of triathlon and road cycle racing. Stuffed our faces with cereal and bananas then loaded up before saying our goodbyes to Carol and Bob who have made us completely at home over the last week, fed us, tour guided us around Bristol and whom it feels slightly sad to leave.

Bob captured the magic moment of us leaving all loaded up and actually looking happy to be on a bike – that was to change all to soon.......

The directions we had were along the lines of “turn left church lane for 70 metres, right at marsh lane 2km” etc. Longest stretch we had on one road for the whole day was 13.2km – lots of scope for getting lost. And we had no map. Within about 3km from Nailsea we hit a hill (funnily enough roads with”hill”in the name tend to be steep). Depressingly this was the first of three hills that day that I had to walk up! I blame the fact that I only have 2 rear panniers which means my front wheel tends to lift uphill on the fact that I had to walk. Nic with twice the load (4 panniers; 2 front and 2 rear) that I had, powered his way up the hill – what a man.

Continued on some lovely country lanes guessing our way through directions pretty well (always disconcerting when no street names). First major directional issue was heading onto “featherbed lane”. The only route that we could find to correspond to directions was headed directly uphill and had a sign saying NO MOTORISED VEHICLES. Wasn't anticipating off road riding quite so early in the trip. Trying to find a house to check directions was not very possible and this was yet another unlabelled lane – at least at our end. On faith we rode then walked our way up the road. Fortunately we found a dog walker who confirmed we were on the right road and was the first of several people to look at us as if we belonged in the loony bin on learning our route. She had funnily enough had also visited Whangamata in New Zealand.

At ~40 km Nic was vaguely starting to bonk (official cycling talk for running out of energy so you feel completely dead despite not feeling sore). Found a lovely pub in a village called Buckland Dinham. We parked our bikes under a cherry tree that was snowing petals over the garden and our bikes. We both had a pint of coke and the 2 course pub meal (bangers and mash for Nic, jacket potatoes then treacle tart with chips on the side). This was when there was some discussion whether we were actually going to make it (it was 1pm, we had been going 4 hrs, and had covered only a third of the distance planned!) It was also when we realised that we might not have Pete's phone number in Winchester and that he would be expecting us at 6pm. Nic discovered a phone number on his phone that fortunately was Pete's to advise him to expect us later.

We continued on to Warminster with some further directions from 2 drivers we flagged down on country lanes. Stunning views of the chalk horse on a hill in the distance. I discovered to the detriment of my right elbow and elbow that tight cornering with heavy panniers on the bike is not possible. In Warminster I looked wistfully at the train station..... Then I tried going over a curb and discovered that with no weight over the front wheel this does not work – this time lost skin over my left knee and right lower leg (not quite sure how I did both sides). We had done ~65km at this time, it was 3pm and I thought bed and breakfasts sounded very appealing.

We decided to do the the next long stretch across the Salisbury plains and realised that a reliable way of ensuring we were headed in the correct direction was to make sure that the not insignificant breeze continued to be a direct head wind as this seemed a pretty constant factor in our day long ride. Nic once again proving that he will always wear the pants in the relationship did the majority of the drafting. Rode past fields of yellow rape flowers that perfumed the air and multiple tank crossings.

Eventually found our way on to A303 which was cyclist hell – a dual carriage way. It's only redeeming factor was that it went directly past Stonehenge completely unexpectedly with great views. Stopped at a truck stop and shared a two quid cheeseburger meal at 6pm, ~90km on the speedometer with about 35km (we hoped) to go and 2 ½ hours of daylight. Feeling remarkably optimistic and amazingly not yet biting each others' heads off, we set off. The next bit on the A303 I seriously thought we would end up like the multiple foxes and badgers on the road - a bit flat. Finally found our turn off – on the other side of four lanes. Taking our lives into our hands we ran across the road, stopping in the center refuge of the grass verge, to a lane that was cyclist heaven.

Wove our way through more lanes flagging down one more motorist for directions who asked us if we understood how far Winchester was, counting down kilometers. It was so exciting to finally see signs for Winchester – at last. Some cruel hills towards the end - the whole day had been undulating – good on the downhill but very over uphill. Finally we saw the “City of Winchester” sign. Followed our directions then got lost missing the 3^rd to last turn. Called Pete who handed the phone over to his girlfriend, Vicky, who put us straight, met us at the corner of their street and guided us to their house. I was nearly in tears with relief to see her.

Greeted at the door with water, then cider, a shower, then homemade cottage pie. I could not believe we had made it. We had been on the road just under 12 hours.

Of note the only training we had done for this ride had been a few outings on the bikes at Nic's uncle and aunt, Simon and Jane's farm in Somerset six days earlier and the average distance we had expected to travel each day was ~60km - less than half what we did on our first day.