Thursday 18 August 2016

Ticket to Ryde and Dorking Discovery

In an effort to make up for last summer I’ve been taking every opportunity to ride. My friends and family already know I’ll turn up to see them with a bike in tow to take advantage of any riding near where they live and so don’t even raise eyebrows as I sneak off for mornings and go straight for their garages. I’m going to cover some of the best of the summer so far in a thematic way (which really only means you don’t have to read about the same ride twice!)

To start with I had a reason recently to be in the very mid South of Britain, around Southampton. This poses a challenge for the opportunist mountain biker as there is surprisingly little riding in the immediate area. You might think that the coastal location and the nearby downs might offer something but the choices are limited. The New Forest is famously dull and by-law heavy for cycling, and Queen Elizabeth Country park isn’t inspiring enough to feel worth the drive.

The saving grace of this area is a little bit of a surprise, or rather it was for me. The best riding in the area seems to be on the Isle of Wight. This means the excitement of a ferry ride to get there and a route guide from Singletrack promised empty bridleways, excellent signposting and some challenging riding.

With this decided a few days in advance I poured over the route guide and a map to plot out a likely route. Somehow with it being on an island it seemed like I could and should go further, but that it wouldn’t be hard. I mean how hard can it be when you can only go so far before hitting the sea? My route would climb out of Ryde (as I could get the ferry in there) and head towards the more interesting looking southern end of the island and back.

Nervous and excited I drove to Portsmouth, got kitted up, and caught the ferry. This was an exciting start to a ride as getting a boat anywhere is fun to start a day out, but weirdly unsettling. It felt dangerous being so detached from the car to ride, with that psychological safety net removed, I would have to catch the ferry back to return to real life at the end.

The crossing was sunny and as I gave into the entirely male need to look like I knew exactly what I was doing at all times I carelessly abandoned the bike in the racks and headed to the sundeck to watch the progress across the Solent. I like to think that on the outside I oozed confident detachment while eating my pasty. Inside I worried about my bike and the ride to come, but we soon docked at Ryde, and I rolled off the boat, up the pier, checked the map and then climbed out of the town.

Soon I was of the road and onto a ride that lived up to the billing. Heading out to towards the middle of the island on empty bridleways with perfect signposting and already starting to climb hard as I aimed towards the higher ground to the south. The theme would include some tough rises and I was forced to reassess the route I’d planned, having not taken into account the brutal elevation changes on such a small island. I worked my way in the beautiful sunshine, and wonderfully alone to a high point short of the southern coast, where I cut back and began to head towards the start again. I regret not making it to the sea but it is a tough challenge that would have taken the whole ride well over 50KM and added to the nearly 1,000m of climbing. Heading back offered up some steep and fun descents a section of paved cycle track and eventually the satisfaction of dropping into the town of Ryde, and seeing the seaside open up in front of me. There’s something special in a ride that ends at the sea having been in the hills. Rolling back along the pier and onto the ferry I was dusty and sweaty and standing out from the day trippers in a way it’s hard not to like. While families took selfies on the sundeck I tucked into sweets and Lucozade and felt the tiredness in my body that meant a ride done well.

It was a bridleway ride to challenge any I’d done and I’m sure there is much more to explore over on the island. Finding the way to the far side of the island might be the key, and maybe it deserves a day out there to take full advantage. There’s even a bike park somewhere in the middle so I think I will definitely go back.


The thing with being away from home is that there can always be additional adventures to explore on the way back. On this trip the return journey looked near enough to another area I’d wanted to try out, as it could easily be stretched to go past the Surrey Hills.

This range of hills is famous for being the nearest mountain biking to south London and therefore very popular with riders across the city. It’s accessible by commuter train and attracts a huge volume of riders to sandy trails that seem more rural than their place just outside the M25. I have ridden there once in the past but remember nothing of it and wanted to try it for myself. Some map work again suggested some bridleways running out of Dorking and I plotted out a route that took in the hills I’d heard about in various internet searches. Having dumped the car in the Surrey town I rolled out on some easy fields and towards the hills. Before long I was climbing and considering the entirely satisfactory nature of the ride so far.

I knew rumours of built trails on these hills and soon came across some evidence of built features. A bit of casting around threw up a bit of a rolling singletrack line but it was hard to work out where it started and ran to. After a few aborted runs on small sections I picked up a track to the top of Leith Hill and climbed hard to the tower marking the highest point. Here I found the trail head and mentally marked it for later before rolling off down the hill towards the next on the ridge.

The transition between the hills was a delightful long, fast and dusty track that took me gradually down then into Holmbury St Mary before climbing fireroads to the top of the next hill. I was getting the idea of how these hills worked and headed towards the highest point with an eye on the track edge for the start of any built routes. Sure enough, just shy of the top there was an entrance, so after an obligatory trip to look at the view, I dived off the fireroad and into a beautiful swooping bermed and jumpy trail taking me back down the hill.

Fully fired up for the tracks built in these hills I retraced my treadmarks back to Leith hill, climbing solidly and then swooping straight into the Summer Lightening trail there, marked by National Trust signs and proving to be a lovely long section of flowing singletrack, snaking through the woods and pointing me back to the first place I’d seen evidence of the work here.

Smiling I cranked the gears up and cruised out on more wide tracks which developed into a more narrow and technical descent and eventually dropped me onto a road where I could pick up the route back to the car. I rolled back satisfied with my exploring and likely to come back at some point.


A

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