A Rumble in the Hills

After the series of mishaps which plagued the start of my day I began to think maybe I wasn't meant to ride in the Burgess Hill Rumble sportive today. Not only that, my lack of preperation for an event hit a new low and I still now don't know how the hell I managed to make it to the finish line. A week spent boozing nearly every evening with my Brother culminated in a 4am jaunt to the Volks on Friday after a double figure session of shots. Riding high on a bitter wave of self destruction it seemed logical to continue the trend and go out last night as well. Why not. What the hell.

So when I woke this morning at 7:00am to the sound of thunder and realised I'd set my alarm for Monday and not Sunday I guessed it was going to be a challenging day. Already 30 minutes late for registration in Burgess Hill, I fought with the idea of just sacking it off and going back to sleep. But, I'd got things on my mind and the only cure for my woes was to translate them into miles. In a rush and still dazed from 5 hours sleep I left the house without breakfast, forgetting my arm warmers, energy bars, cash card, long sleeve top and sunglasses.

Driving to Burgess Hill through the eye of a lightning storm I did seriously question what the fuck I was doing, straining to see the road ahead in the monsoon downpour. Lightning was striking closer than I've ever seen and water was starting to build up on the roads. Thankfully by the time I arrived in Burgess Hill it had lessed to a normal downpour, but I still sat another 10 minutes in the car pondering whether to turn round and go straight home.

The only thing which stopped me was having so much on my mind. I figured if i did drive back to Brighton I'd end up going for a ride anyway later in the day to get my head straight. So i got out the car, put the bike together and rode the mile or so to the start line. On arrival I realised I'd left my phone and photo ID in the car so couldn't register. Another 2 mile round trip later I was at the start and really wondering if I was meant to ride at all today.

I'd entered the 95 mile Classic Ride organised by SRS-Events. Though the route was good the organisation wasn't up to the standards of the Devil Ride, even down to having no timing chips. I reset my computer and set off pretty much straight away getting into a good group of 5-6 riders who were prepared to work together. The first 30 miles or so were fast and undulating and I felt surprisingly good cruising along at 20mph+. The first major climb of the day wasn't too steep just long and with a nice smooth surface. Once into the Ashdown forest things got a little more challenging, not least the road surfaces. With so much rain the roads were very slippy and there were a few crashes.

The second major climb was like something out of the Devil Ride, a mile long monster with 16% sections where many had to walk due to lack of traction. At the top was a food station and I ransacked its stock of flapjacks and bananas with a crazed look in my eyes, muscles and veins pumped from the intensity of the climb. From then onwards I was flying and left my group, joined and dropped others along the way until 30 miles out I was on my own. With the exception of the devious addition of the climb out of Ardingly I was at top speed for the last section getting me into the finish in 5 hours 45 mins. Here's the full route.

Getting back to the car I reflected on the day and was glad I'd decided to ride regardless. The troubles of the morning had been flogged over the 95 miles and now didn't seem quite so all consuming. The bike is tremendous for this. Unfortunately though, the bike took a bit of a hammering today with so much shit on the roads. It'll need a full service to be ready for roll for next weekends challenge: The Trans Cambrian...

This time I'll try not the spend the whole week drinking, eating takeaways and worrying about stuff I know I can sort out myself. Hopefully.