Central London CTC blog

With the weather forecast as fine and still as ever could be hoped for on the last weekend of September, the 200K out of Ruislip was a must. At dawn, Sunday looked as if it would deliver its promise. But once out of doors it was cold – surprisingly cold.

As the morning’s first train out of Finchley Road flew west over metroland, playing fields blanketed in fog previewed what was to come.

Among the number gathered at the clubhouse were some seasoned long-distance riders: one fresh from a 3000K event in Italy, another who had recently completed Calais–Brindisi, and a third about to depart for six months cycle-camping in New Zealand. So it was plain that Rory and I would be in for some hard riding.

And so it proved as we crossed the Grand Union Canal and forged westward into the Chilterns at a brisk clip. The fog lay thick, chill and wet along the valley bottoms, wrapping us entirely in our own world as we squeezed through the gates into Waddesdon Park. As we reached its peak, we burst out from under the fog into a brilliant blue morning.

Then the charge on to our first stop, the Toulouse Cafe who, having been warned to expect us at 10:30, found us fully a quarter-hour ahead of schedule. A cross between a site canteen and a boudoir, the Toulouse had turned out specially for us this morning and boy did we do justice to their beans on toast.

With riders fortified, the pace picked up some more and, with pairs in line astern, we started to resemble a proper chaingang as the route turned to the north. Even so I was astonished, late morning, to cross the border into the county of Northampton, where the lunch stop ‘at the turn’ was the Bridge Inn, a lovely spot on the canal just outside Towcester.

Lunch on an Audax does not generally have the same expansive quality as our own club rides. Eating, drinking, and divesting myself of my longs in what was now glorious sunshine, I was told there was a time-trial going on. As some of our group, including Rory, had already taken off again, I took this to be a jocular reference to their impatience to be on their way. But it was indeed a proper event with riders on their tri-bars sweeping round the bendy approach to the bridge, so it was well to emerge cautiously.

I rode the next section quite on my own, unusual for me since rejoining the CTC. Apart from missing a turn in Wicken, resulting in what seemed like a long drag up the A422 Buckingham road, I managed the navigation fine and was encouraged to find myself bowling along on the big ring at evens or better. It was not until the final control at the Texaco garage on the A4351 outside Berkhamsted that those left behind in the pub caught up.

With over 100 miles covered, we were definitely in a homeward-bound frame of mind by now. However, as on my previous 200, the Muswell Hills, the Chilterns present an unavoidable barrier to the north-westerly approach. Our group was now down to four: one of us (fortunately) from the Willesden, so able to pilot us in confidently though the back roads; another, the Calais–Brindisi hero who had sensibly decided to ignore the bleeps from his GPS; and a fellow from the Manchester Wheelers. Long-distance man was utterly composed over the really severe gradients in the lanes but without boasting I can say I was not last to the top.

We were back in the clubhouse a little before six, after what had been a really great day out. I was far from being on the point of collapse as I had been by the end of Nick’s cruel Muswell Hills (see previous report). In fact my computer showed a rolling average of 26.6 kph for 210 km covered. Not bad…I’m going to be working on it though!