A dismal start to the day at Caterham, with clouds, rain, and more forecast. So the turn-out was pretty thin, with not all of those at elevenses planning to join a ride. But five A Group hard men (no women today) were ready to tackle the hills of Kent. A bit after eleven we dropped down from Caterham to the A22 roundabout, taking the turn that we rarely bother with on to Succombs Hill. A hidden gem, this is one of the harder hills of the North Downs. You're launched straight on to it, with a steep ramp right at the beginning, followed by an easier portion before an even steeper ramp at the end.
Toni shows there's nothing to it
We ascended variously and had a little rest at the top, before taking the pretty lanes beyond Warlingham to the top of White Lane, the Bec hill-climb course. Descending this year, we still found the efforts of the hill climbers admirable, and were probably a bit nearer their times than we were when we tried it the other way.
Left on to the Pilgrim's Way, and a pleasant rolling ride along to Sundridge, where we began to climb again. A Gentleman's Climb this time; atmospheric under the trees in the rain, to the Cock Inn at Ide Hill. They were expecting us, and we enjoyed a good lunch in an old-fashioned bar with a very welcome open fire.
There was talk of staying in the pub until the rain stopped, but they don't do rooms, so this wouldn't have worked. So out into the rain again, with spooky cloud now rolling up the face of the hill. It all added to the drama of York's Hill, which we descended cautiously with lights on - yes...
From the bottom, a rolling road to Edenbridge then on towards Tilburstow Hill. It was Paul who noticed it first - a strange golden light in the sky. What could it be? Within ten minutes the sun was out and the clouds rolled away to reveal blue sky. What a change.
Descending from Tilburstow we had a bit of a setback. Paul suffered a blow-out on the rough surface (the tarmac is being renewed) noisy enough to be heard a hundred yards away. Careful examination failed to reveal the cause, so in with a new tube and on we went. Must be a snake-bite, we all agreed. Maybe, but maybe not, because a few miles further on another explosive deflation meant another new tube. This time a flint was found, not in the tyre, but on the rim-tape, under the tube. How could it have got there? Was this the cause? Who knows, but it didn't happen again, and we pressed on to Fanny's, worried that we might miss our tea.
On the way up the last hill a couple of French lads in a rented van shouted encouraging Tour de France epithets at us. (Who won, eh lads?) It was amusing to find that they were delivering onions to Fanny's. That's progress for you - it was always a bike in my day.
Half an hour putting the World to rights and then over the hill and on our way home. Not the day we would have wished for, but, in the end, not a bad day either. 39.5 miles from elevenses at Caterham to tea at Fanny's; 3,905 feet of ascent.
Mark
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