On June 13th 2014 at 7pm four keen young riders gathered under the King Alfred statue at Winchester. Their mission: to complete the glorious 100 mile long South Downs Way end to end in time for breakfast at Eastbourne the following morning. We were those four, this is our story, and it was fun.
Young Guns (left to right): Harry Underhill, Rob Lenharth, King Alfred (top with sword), Jon Reay, Andy Jarman
The idea was hatched in the depths of a particularly wet and windy winter dreaming of the short balmy nights and easy riding dusty trails of mid summer to come. How to get others to agree to ride? Answer: mention post a Wednesday night ride in a heady atmosphere of post ride endorphins, curry, peer pressure and bravado. It worked. Lots of good planning chats ensued over the months that followed. We would aim to make this a relaxed, enjoyable and safe ride conducted in a spirit of adventure rather than a race. We would stick together at all times and try to complete without having to dig so deep as to shorten our future life expectancies. Just to be on the safe side though the pre-ride forum post included the following official disclaimer statement: “you might not regret it”. So on with the adventure...
It had been a long hot summers day and was indeed a warm balmy evening. The moon was only a day or two from its fullest, and the forecast was good. Overnight temperatures were predicted to drop no lower than 17c, with just a chance of the odd light refreshing shower. The good King appeared to know better however, as with sword he pointed out the first storm clouds gathering overhead – was he warning us of darker times to come..?
Grand Depart (what no Red Arrows?) - Pre flight checks and ready to roll...
At last, we were rolling – the rhythm of those first few pedal strokes soon calming any pre ride nerves and equipment choice angst. We were full of optimism; we had the sun at our backs and our machines were running smoothly. And, following a last minute search for some pre-ride dinner; our stomachs were full of Ronald MacDonald’s finest - so much for our carefully planned nutrition strategies!
The first leg bathed in the warm late evening sunshine through the Meon valley to Queen Elizabeth Park (QEP) was splendid and comparatively undemanding - well, the Hampshire section isn’t really the South Downs proper is it? We rolled easily through golden fields in the company of barn owls and skylarks. And quite a few rabbits too, some of which attempted to jump through our wheels on the 40mph descent towards Exton. Thankfully they somehow bounced off apparently relatively unharmed. The incident did give pause for a bit of “reflection” though.
Sunset and “effortless” adrenaline fuelled early miles across the Meon Valley
Then, being shining knights of the off-road, we stopped to help a stranded young lady road cyclist who had found herself deflated with daylight fading. Three of us relaxed whilst Jon expertly repaired the puncture. Then one of us (not Jon), received a thank you in the form of delicious rhubarb and custard energy gel. The young lady then wonderfully asked us the one question we begged to be asked; “how far are you going?”
The day started slipping away rapidly as we raced down the grassy descent of Butser Hill to QEP at 23 miles in. A twilight snack and hunt for the water tap in the courtyard of the visitor centre and we were on our way again, carefully navigating though the most confusing part of the route that is the QEP - so many trails and signs to lesser tracks but none to clearly mark the mighty SDW. Still full of energy and chatting away (all deeply intellectual and profound stuff of course); we had a bit of a “moment” together as we saw the pink moon loom large over the horizon.
QEP and onwards into the night
We pedalled on in our own cosy bubble of LED light; onwards and upwards to the “Whales Back” proper as we left Hampshire behind and met Harting Down. Its rapid series of short and rolling sharp ups and downs being welcome after the farm tracks of the west. That early chalky descent towards the gate with the horrible gullies gave further pause for “reflection” however. Then onward to our next planned short stop at the Cocking water tap (36 miles). As we topped up our reserves we cautiously started to admit for the first time feeling the first signs of fatigue (or were we just getting warmed up?), and slightly in awe of the distance still to travel.
The next stop was to be the big one – a proper picnic – our planned half distance re-fuelling stop at Houghton (48 miles) where we had left a fully stocked support vehicle. There we enjoyed a slightly surreal 1am feast. Some interesting mid ride fare was consumed; all manner of things including cooked sausages and cheese and mayo sandwiches – the slimy savoury snacks a welcome respite from all that dry sugary stuff. The flask of coffee went down well too. We chatted of how bodies and bikes were fairing (all good so far), and of fuelling, lighting and clothing requirements for the second half ahead.
The immediate climb of Amberley Mount that followed did not aid digestion. But we were soon rolling along our most familiar trails past Kithurst and Chantry Post. We observed the warm glow of Storrington asleep well below. By Washington we were all back in a nice rhythm again. Tempted as we were to recline on the old green “draylon” sofa in the car park at the bottom of the climb we decided to press on. The familiar sight of Chanctonbury Ring and odour of the pig farm flew by next.
2am top up at Bramber tap
Then, after a quick water stop at Bramber tap, we ground silently up the long drag of Truleigh Hill (the profound discussions on hold for now). On the climb the first drops of rain had started to fall. But soon the winds picked up, and by the Youth hostel and radio mast a full on storm had descended upon us. With thunder and lightning out to sea and cats and dogs from above us we hastily donned our jackets at the gate in the next valley. The wet stuff had now become so forceful that after hitting the hard chalky ground below it was bouncing back up to handlebar height. With no other option in this exposed section we decided to press on, hoping the worst would soon pass, and with a plan to shelter in the National Trust Barn at Saddlescombe Farm if it did not. At Devils Dyke the visibility was so poor that only the line of buttercups marking edge of the more worn grass of “the Way” kept us on track. By the barn (69 miles) the storm showed no sign of easing, and with conditions now almost un-rideable, we decided to shelter there.
Riders in the Storm - Shivering at Saddlescombe; most grateful of the shelter but it would have been nice if this barn had some doors and a coffee machine...
As the storm raged on and on and on, we distracted ourselves by reading the excellent display material on the ecology of the South Downs and agricultural machinery of yesteryear. We also tried to close our eyes for a bit. Sadly no soft hay bails to recline on but with Andy finding the best kipping spot in a nicely cosseting grain shoot. By now we were feeling very cold and wondering just when conditions would improve and what to do if they didn’t. Eventually the storm let off a little, and having mercifully stopped just short of resorting to a group man hug to conserve precious body heat, we decided to press on in the knowledge that our next pre-planned stop at the Pyecombe 24/7 services (72 miles) was only a climb and descent away.
Shivering and struggling to see through the driving rain and hail, the tracks had become like river beds. But we pressed on dreaming of warming up with hot drinks and shelter at Pyecombe. By the time we arrived there we were seriously cold and genuinely concerned. What followed was the definite low point of our adventure when our “lifeline” was abruptly cut off. We were met outside by the service station attendant who promptly announced he was closed. Apparently the storm had caused a power cut affecting the tills (although all inside was glowing brightly including the tills). We would not be allowed even to take shelter in the warm shop let alone raise our body temperatures with warm drinks. This seemed very harsh to us at the time even though we didn’t look like ideal customers, being soaking wet, covered in mud and with wild staring eyes. As we stood on the forecourt discussing the various scenarios concern levels were ramping up significantly as we got colder and colder. For the first time we started to briefly entertain thoughts of abandoning due to the now very real hypothermia risk. But we still had plenty of resolve, were not going to give up now, and were stranded anyway.
So we reasoned we would press on in the hope that the rain would relent, buoyed by the first signs of dawn, and with the hope that although not 24 hour the services at Newmaket (75 miles) would soon be open. Up on past the golf course then to Ditchling Beacon where the disappointment of the absent ice cream van was more than compensated for by the rain easing significantly, the views opening up and even a glint of sunshine. We were going to make it - even if it rained hard again, an hour or two’s respite to warm up a bit was all we needed!
Great- Newmaket services were open, welcoming and friendly. Their hot coffees were never so warmly welcomed and they even let us use their staff microwave.
Newmaket Services and “we’re on our way from misery to happiness aha...”
After apologising for the wet muddy puddles on a clean floor we were soon crossing the A27 and up over Newmarket Hill, steam rising from the wet ground and our warming bodies as the morning sun and lifted the moisture and our spirits.
Then a quick pause at the lovely flint church at Southease and over the river and railway, and past the Youth Hostel there, our next planned stop would be Alfriston.
Up over Newmarket Hill and on to Southease
Before Alfriston, on up past Firle Beacon, where, with the storm having scrubbed the atmosphere and the skies now clear and bright, we enjoyed fantastic views far out to sea, observing glinting waves beneath blue skies, white cliffs and the distant Newhaven ferry gleaming in sunshine towards the horizon.
Fantastic at Firle – still a bit damp but with the early morning sun lighting up the landscape and lifting our spirits
By Alfriston (90miles) we were feeling really chipper again as we paused awhile on the benches in the village centre. There we ate warm croissants from the post office in the lovely early morning sunshine 10 miles or so and the last couple of climbs to go.
“Smelling the roses” at Alfriston with the end now firmly in our reach - a moment to savour
After a photo shoot courtesy on some young hikers (who wonderfully asked us: “how far have you come?”), we headed up the long climb towards Jevington where rewarded by the expansive and welcome views of Eastbourne far below. Past the golf course and soon we were rolling easily and swiftly and the smooth tarmac of Eastbourne promenade (102 miles), and enjoying a sunny celebratory alfresco breakfast on the sea front.
A quick swim and time for breakfast...
So that is our story. We did it, it was well worth getting the bike out of the shed for, and it was fun!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Some Stats
Total trip time - approx 14.5 hours with around 3 hours of stops including the long ones sheltering from the big storm
• Punctures (-1); - none for us and one repair for another
• Other mechanicals – zero
• Fatigue induced emotional arguments – zero
• Bikes – all 29ers, 2 Ali, 2 carbon, 3 hard tail, 1 full sus
• Lights used – approx 1.5 batteries each (change over at half way point)
Some Awards
• Most critical equipment decision (for persuading Harry to not ditch his rain jacket at the half way stop to save weight) – Jon, Andy and Rob
• Most alternative nutrition strategy (1 bar of dairy milk and one energy bar every other hour) – Andy
• Most consistent cadence and pace – Jon (after his usual three hour warm up)
• Scariest moment involving a long eared mammal (I hope that rabbit is ok and is that my life flashing by before me?)-Rob
• Points Jersey (like a coiled spring - fastest and freshest to the end with multiple sprints to open gates all along the way– must have been the cold sausages) – Harry
• Most spectacular blow up (just past Ditchling Beacon after doing some impromptu interval training to try to and warm up - and we are talking almost crawling along on hands and knees) followed by an equally spectacular and recovery - Anon
Anon
And a “Big, Thank You” to:
• Michael (top man) Workman and Sally (Jon’s good lady) for stepping up and solving our get to the start transport problems – Thank you both
• Bob Cross of Cross Link Taxis for collecting four muddy and very probably less than pleasant smelling old boys and very muddy machines from Eastbourne at very reasonable rate
Next Year
• Maybe - who’s in? (lets discuss again around January time after a curry)
