High summer. Not my favourite time of year, but this time it’s a bit different, the tail end of spring and early summer were both, literally and mentally a washout. Riding the same old roads day in day out has knocked the pleasurable edge off, the weather was mild enough that even when lashing with rain nothing ever felt ‘epic’, just damp and sweaty. Now though, for what’s probably going to be an all to brief moment in time, its good. It’s dry, there’s that oven warming up feeling when you first step out the back door and the smell of air off the continent.
Road bike today – I say road bike; it has fatter tyres on it than I used to have on the cross bike when I used to blat over the downs on that. Drop down to the river, quiet ways and hidden ways that only the dog walkers and kids know about. Skirt a smashed Corona bottle, there’s probably a metaphor in that if I could be bothered to look. Over the river, green and lazy this morning. A heron watches me no more than a handlebars width away.
Last little bit of town. A man at the top of the hill said to me recently that Lewes was the perfect example of a town ruined by the car. As I pass the ranks of cars parked nose to tail opposite the 19th century terrace I find it hard to disagree. This town has sacrificed a lot for the motor car (I’m not anti-car per se, I have one, I’ve owned some absolute stone cold classics, could probably have been described as petrol head in my late teens/early twenties. It’s the usage and the sheer bloody unnecessary SIZE of the things that’s upsets me. Future topic – sustainable travel and the future of the motor car ;-))
Winch up out of town. I like this little climb, it’s enough to warm the legs up nice and close to home, but not enough to hurt unless you push. As you climb the 150ish foot, breaks in the trees to the right let you look pretty much straight down the course of the Ouse. There’s the lightest touch of mist, burning off so quickly now it’s gone as soon as its seen.
Sketchy junction at the top of the road, to be fair it’s not too bad at this time, just with the speed cars carry over the brow of the hill, you are listening more than watching. Fast bit in to Offham then down to Cooksbridge. This early in the morning this road can be quite fun, just need to keep an ear for the occasional close pass which people seem inclined to make even when there’s nothing the other side of the road, but hey ho.
Left before the railway crossing in Cooksbridge and in to the proper lanes now. Beechwood, Chiltington, Highbridge. Traffic free (99% of the time), nicely rolling, half decent surface, this is my sort of road riding. Fat tyres and a skinny steel frame means I float along here, past the million pound plus houses, Bentleys and Volvos tucked up behind locked gates. Past the entrance to the bridleway I keep threatening to go down but never do. Have a Snow White moment, a Hare runs briefly alongside me while finches flit past. Spat out onto Novington Lane, it’s a bit of a bastard this road, I’m only on it for a few minutes but it drags up in a deceptive manner making you feel like your dragging your brakes. Left again this time on to St Helena. Past the concrete house, for a house which is often deemed controversial I’m a bit ambivalent about it to be honest. St Helena, when quiet at least, is an absolute cracker of a road heading west. There’s a little twisty lumpy bit in the middle which signifies where St Helena changes her name to Middleton Common Lane, up a slight rise (fittingly labelled teeny tiny leg burner on Strava) and on to the smoothest hundred or so metres of tarmac in Sussex. Works round the corner though so ease off and roll into the estate.
The slow way round 