I’m fortunate in that there are a number of traffic free ways I can get to work from home and vice versa. There’s two distinct categories though – up and not so up. Ups great, from Lewes I can be up on top of the Downs and heading west in minutes. The short way is up behind the prison, through the race course and before you know it you’re at Blackcap. The long way is head south and up Jugg’s, along Kingston Ridge, drop down over the A27 and head back up to Blackcap. Heading North in to Sussex proper, down is great, there’s a whole host of bostals and paths between Lewes and Ditchling, four or five at Blackcap alone, Plumpton, Streat, Westmeston.
The views are spectacular, it’s normally empty at the time I come up, the climbs wake you up and the descents are giggle inducing. It’s normally dry even in the worst weather, the chalk quickly draining and the slippery and muddy bits are normally easily avoided. It’s great and I’m well aware of how fortunate I am to have this as my commute.
But sometimes, sometimes I just can’t be arsed. Sometimes I just want to get to work.
I can ride on the road, I have a rather lovely road bike, all skinny steel, Carradice and full length mudguards. I’d even say I enjoy riding on the road (sometimes). It does however have one rather large downside and I’m sure it won’t be a surprise when I say it’s motor traffic.
Now, what I’d call my formative cycling years involved commuting at rush hour through Brighton, Hove and Shoreham. Despite one or two near and not so near misses ( I once ended up in the back of an Audi convertible where the driver left hooked me) I used to get a weird buzz from cutting through rush hour traffic, racing the busses, taking gaps and shortcuts (think of every complaint you’ve heard from a driver about cyclists and that was me) or wringing my singlespeeds neck up Elm Grove or Stamford Avenue. It was great craic. The strange thing though, is that other than a few change of pants moments I never really felt in any danger. Sure you had to be constantly alert, reading what the idiot in the Range Rover was about to do, deciding if the cabbie was about to do a you- ee, knowing that the young mum with the push chair and toddlers in tow hadn’t clocked you as she went to cross the road, but it was all engrossing. People talk about mindfulness, but ride from the pier to Five Ways via the level on a sunny Friday rush hour and I can guarantee whatever is troubling you will be forgotten for the duration.
I guess what I’m getting at with the above is traffic has never really phased me, it’s just another hazard such as pot holes or black ice. I’m not the best bike handler in the world and I’m certainly not the fittest, but I know how to handle my self around other road users.
Fast forward more than a few years though and I’m not in Brighton anymore. I live in Lewes, East Sussex and my Business is on the outskirts of a Mid-Sussex town called Burgess Hill, as the crow flies it’s about ten miles. By bike, sticking to the quietest roads I know it’s about 12.
Starting with the middle part of the journey (because that’s the nice bit) it’s about 7 miles of quiet (in the main) picturesque single lane roads.
They are great to cycle on, the site lines aren’t the best, but it tends to be so quiet that you can hear any vehicles coming and take appropriate action. Nice and swoopy with no ups to big that you can’t punch up them. During the spring they smell wonderful (apart from the farm at the start which is always a touch ripe). Winter can be interesting though (see one of my earlier blog posts).
The problems are really either side of this delectable little slice of Sussex cycling.
The snippet of map above shows the start of my commute by road. You winch yourself north up the A2029, which, on it’s own isn’t to bad a road, you get the odd close pass but because the roads a decent width and site lines are reasonable it’s bearable, certainly outside of rush hour. The issue comes where it joins the A275. just past the junction heading south in to Lewes there’s a blind crest and with people doing 50/60 mph over it it can be a touch dicey pulling out. It’s then a gentle descent bar one wee little up until I turn off and, if it’s empty it can be a cracking stretch of road. Problem is it’s never bloody empty. There’s blind corners everywhere, plus a fair few stretches of double whites and I think I’ve I had more close passes, sudden pull ins, failed overtakes, creeping overtakes, attempted run offs, threats of violence and Christ knows what else on this little stretch of road than I have in all my other cycling combined. It is, unfortunately THE road if you need to be west of the Ouse and are heading north. There’s a footpath that runs alongside it, and whilst I’m not adverse to the odd outing on a FP, it’s narrow, often busy with dog walkers and runners and can get a bit precarious in places. So that’s the start, it’s a great way to wake up in the morning if your idea of a wake up call is some twat in a BMW checking his Bet Fred account rather than looking at the road.
The final part of my on road commute is this little section here –
I won’t go into detail, but I’m coming from the right hand side and need to get into that estate. I think the road layout there will give you an idea of just how ‘interesting’ that could be.
In a very long winded way, I’m trying to say that commuting by road round here is a pain. Some bits are positively pleasant, whilst others can be genuinely terrifying. As a result I’ve explored alternative routes* which I’ll take a look at in part 2.
*I’m fully aware, that I shouldn’t need to find ‘alternative’ routes, that’s a blog post for another time however.
The slow way round 