With the tour barely 3 weeks away, last weekend was one we set aside for testing kit in real world conditions. With the weather conspiring to mimic the real world conditions of a European summer, there was little excuse not to get on the road. Gathering together our pots, panniers and portable battery pack, we set off into the ‘wilds’ of sedate Surrey and pursued the sublime Sussex coastline.
Setting off at a rather relaxed 11am, we started South, winding past Box Hill before tackling the back roads through villages with names like Newdigate and Rusper. The route proving a relatively flat affair at first, overlooking the impact of the weight on the rear was perhaps inevitable. Having not racked up for the best part of 6 months, the odd sensation of rocking a bike up a climb and it rocking you back was a as pleasant as sipping on a hot wasp tea.
Regardless, we ploughed on to Horsham and by two o’clock, we were sat in the high street gorging ourselves on pitta breads, hummus and cheese…
Surging ahead, the main feat of the day was climbing over the South Downs. After a brief glide from Storrington to Amberley, we mashed ourselves up the steep slopes with surprisingly little discomfort. Panniers staying rock solid and growing accustomed to carrying the weight equivalent of a 12 year old on the backs of each bike, summiting the downs was a cause for optimism. Squeezing out the last 7 kilometres, we were soon at the beach.
Unbeknownst to us, also en route to the beach was a massive storm cell, blowing up from France. Knownst to us, our good friend Elsje was headed to meet us in her newly converted van, accompanied by another pal. After barely 20 minutes of mandatory beach frolicking, grumblings originating the skies as well as our stomachs started to punctuate the wash of the tide.
As we watched the lashing rain and forked tongues of lightening lapping up salt water from afar, an executive decision needed be made – intrepid explorers that we are, do we set up our tent and laugh hardily into the howling gales, or do we secrete ourselves within the confines of a metal vestibule, specially sealed against the wind and rain?
We slung the tent and panniers in the dry, warm, hermetically sealed van, created a bicycle bivouac with a tarp and ducked for cover as the sand kicked up and the wind swayed the van with all force of three rugby players on a stag do. Sitting tight, Elsje treated us to a hot meal, and we awed at the power of static electricity as the van’s skylights turned strobes for the night. Stef settling for a space in a crowded bed and yours truly taking a more upright position, we fell as asleep as we could.
Waking at 5, the van door was slung open to a misty spring morning. The high tide lapping reassuringly softly against scatter stones of Climping beach, the scene was barely recognisable as the site of the previous night’s intimidations. Stef and I taking a seat on the sea wall, we salvaged our camping credentials by boiling a pan of water and enjoying an instant coffee as the sun escaped the clutch of the landscape. Watching the beach come alive with the swarming of dog walkers, we unsheathed our astonishingly dry bikes and set off once more.
Climbing the shallower but prolonged crawl back over the South Downs, we made progress steadily and by noon we found ourselves flaring up the stove in a village hall’s sports pitch. Back on the road soon enough, we cycled north to Cranleigh, hesitated in Wonersh, and powered on to Coombe Lane.
Now, as a cyclist having lived on the Surrey borders for the past three years, some climbs gain certain levels of infamy. Coombe Lane or Shere Hill climb, is one such road. With a pitch that only ever increases and culminates in a rather insane hairpin bend, we waggle danced our way up in a profoundly low gear. The final stretch a mere formality, we made it home in time to enjoy the ebb of sunlight, and appreciate our ride.
With 110 miles covered with around 40 kilos in tow, the trip served our purpose of proving that we can really cover ground and in good time, which should be useful, if we’re ever in need of making a campsite before cut off!
