Not quite understanding what he was in for, Dave Vine offered to accompany me on a recce from Cobham, to develop a B Group ride in the hope that we will be allowed to ride in sixes again in the first week of December.
The weatherman suggested we might have an unpredictably wet Wednesday so we agreed to postpone our trip to Thursday, and at Dave’s suggestion met at The Patisserie, on Station Road at Stoke D’Abernon where I had the best almond croissant I’ve had in a while and an excellent coffee, free for cyclists. It had been a night of high winds and heavy rain and was still drizzling when we got up but by ten thirty, when we took off on the ride I had carefully drawn up on maps taken from the Collins A to Z, the sun was out and for the greater part, it stayed out.
A glorious morning near Oxshot
My plan to use all of Elm Lane was immediately circumvented because Dave showed me how to get to the bridge over the A3 by using the old aerodrome. He probably thought he had escaped the risk of being stranded in mud, but that was because I had not shown him the route.
It was a gorgeous winter morning to be riding through Wisley village and over Pyrford Lock and Dave showed commendable patience when I confused my left for my right and took us on a mile detour. There were roadworks of the comprehensive kind almost blocking our way in Woking but the park was pleasant, as was the trip along the River Hoe. A minor mechanical and a bit of getting lost, but we ended up on Highlands Lane, which turned out to be more than a little muddy; passable if one was determined enough.
It wouldn’t be a proper recce without a mechanical problem, this one caused by the brambles ripping off Dave’s mudguard.....
It was searching for my chosen crossing of the River Wey that I got those lefts and rights mixed up again, but at precisely the moment I confessed my suspicion that I had got it wrong, we happened upon a farm shop which turned out the ideal cyclist lunch spot for lockdown, Elm Farm.
Clint Eastwood I recognise, and John Wayne, but who’s the slim, handsome gunslinger?
Fuelled by our respective toasties we rediscovered the planned route; the towpath along the Wey had been my worry but though a little slippery in places it turned out very cyclable. Send and Send Marsh posed no problems but the fun was to come. My previous attempt, with Tim, to discover an interesting route between Ripley Lane and Long Reach had ended unhappily in a jungle of brambles and nettles and a small but wet stream, so this time I chose Green Lane, which looked straight and dry on my map. About half way along it, fearful of drowning in the mud, we realised it would be as bad retracing our steps (for there was precious little pedalling) as pressing on, so we chose the latter, eventually riding two very sad and muddy bikes along the welcome tarmac of Long Reach; my machine complained loudly about the grime under its mudguards and in the works, and after I had washed out the disc brakes with my drinking water, screeching every time I applied them. If they had had disc brakes in the war, the French Resistance would have been caught every time trying to creep around unnoticed on bicycles.
I shied from suggesting yet another scenic route around Effingham Junction but after the station I did persuade Dave to at least inspect Bank’s Lane in order to complete my route. Dusk was by now upon us but our minds were made up by a pair of cyclists coming the other way who, plastered in mud and astride their mountain bikes, assured us it was a good route and indeed, by the standards we had endured, it was blissful, taking us through only the occasional small inland sea to Bookham Common where with darkness falling we got only half lost. Two experienced adults with Google, Garmin, Ordnance Survey and Collins to hand, one a former Director of Military Survey, could hardly admit worse.
One more river to cross, the Mole, which we did on River Lane, and we were soon traversing Leatherhead on the Northern side and only an hour or so from home. What would have become a bit of a chore by myself had turned out a tiring but splendid day’s adventure in the company of Dave.
Door to door only a thousand feet of climbing in just over sixty miles; 99.5 kilometres to be exact, so I rode round the block to make it a hundred. Half of that was getting to and fro, so the ride itself was about thirty miles. I might have to modify it for December but it will go in the back pocket to make a lovely summer ride.
1 comment:
Green Lane always looks tempting on a map but as you found, there is a reason why it never seems to get included in a group ride. A recce, even in summer, is usually enough to deter most. Elm Lane wasn't much better last time I tried it.
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