Monday 3 October 2016

Going to the Limit

Some days it’s worth finding an adventure in the relatively mundane. Regular readers will know that I’ve been riding a lot in Hertfordshire on the occasions I can’t get away further for more exciting riding. I’m in the process of turning some of that riding into route guides, available through this site, for people who have the same challenge to grab mountain biking close to North London. If you’re paying attention you may have noticed these appearing on the nav bar over to the right here. Look forward to more.

The more I rode these routes the more I wonder how far I can take them. This nagging idea has been kicking around in the back of my mind all summer. As I became aware of the impending end of the good weather I had been thinking more and more about the opportunity for adventure in the woods and fields of the county. In the end, almost on a whim, I set out on Sunday morning to ride the outer limits of the rides I’ve come to know well.

As a responsible mountain biker I would not exactly recommend my approach. Yes I was dressed appropriately and had a good bike for the ride but I’d been short of food to take along, so only had a couple of cereal bars in my bag. It also turns out I had neglected to pick up a multi-tool and may have also forgotten tyre levers or a chain tool so was woefully underprepared for any mechanical emergency. On the plus side again I had plenty to drink with me and I was riding well known tracks. I also had, for once, remembered my wallet so could potentially spend my way out of trouble if it came to that.

I had a vague idea of the distance – I’d done a couple of extended rides that pushed towards 60km out here and I had a blurry feeling that the total would add maybe 10km to this. This was a bit of an underestimate, as I started to realise as I reached the end of the first section. In my mental map of the area I had split out the ride into sections that related to individual rides I’d been doing, this segmentation would become more and more important as I went on, in order to keep myself going and not lose heart. At the junction to link the first ride to the second I checked my GPS watch. I had racked up a fast 20Km already, even as I tried to coach myself to slow down to save energy it was hard to resist the lure of known tracks in the dusty sunshine, and I was blasting along at a decent rate. I was still very much heading away from the car and so quick calculations started to make me realise I was in for a bigger ride than I expected. I resolved to not look at the watch again as I felt like knowing how far I’d gone with the knowledge of how far I had to go would be a tough psychological barrier to overcome.

I began to force myself to think no further than the next section of the ride, only looking to the next village at most, while setting some bigger landmarks to tick off. Much Hadham would be a first target but until there I would think no further than the next junction. I let each turn fall into my mind with the directions from there as they arrived and just settled to enjoy riding and to ride what was in front of me. This strategy worked well to keep me going and I rolled on through the changing landscape of Hertfordshire, pushing on as it tried unsuccessfully to rain. The variety of what I was riding struck me as I moved from the wooded south west to the open fields of the north and east. Some sections surprised me as they had slipped from my forward planning, but there’s a strange peace to be found in being committed to just riding.

With the long open top section ridden with a very helpful tailwind in place I crossed the major roads that head north from here and eventually dropped into Much Hadham. This represented another opportunity to cut the ride short, but whether through stubbornness or something else I found the bike always turning to keep going on the longer option. Climbing back out of the village I stopped to refuel as best I could with my limited provisions. My hydration pack was empty and I switched to a bottle along with the cereal bars, them remounted and rolled further out along field edges.

The next sunken lane gave me reason to think about the distance again as this was where I had dramatically punctured a few weeks before. I knew that this meant I was 20km out from Stansted Margarets. Starting to feel the miles in my legs and reminding myself that the car wasn’t parked there, but further on at Goffs Oak, this was where it started to get harder. From here there are also a succession of fields that are dried to ridged and rutted struggles. In addition I’d swung round into the wind that had been so helpful earlier.

A section of headwind put the first doubts into my head that I would make, but it also made me more determined that this ride wouldn’t beat me. I dropped into St Margarets and mentally double checked that the car wasn’t there. I also remembered the jelly babies in the glove box at this point, which made it harder to accept that the car was further on. After a brief break for a level crossing I kicked out of town and back onto scrappy bridleways to link up with a moment in the grounds of Haileybury College and then onto the dead-straight Ermine Street track which felt like starting to get back to the start. Each rise on the Roman road was starting to be an effort and I had the final climb in my head, knowing that I’d have to climb up through Wormley Wood to get back to the car.

That climb came all too soon on legs not fully recovered even on the previous descent. I dragged myself up it the slowest than I’ve ever climbed the path and emerged onto the road. Finally I looked down at my watch to see what the damage was. Just short of the car I was already clocking over 92km and I felt my tiredness was justified. I rolled back to the car. Sat on the floor and ate all of the jelly babies straight out of the glovebox to get the energy to drive home.

Just a bit gutted that I was 7.5km short of the 100…


A

No comments:

Post a Comment