Return to the New Forest

I didn't write an update last week as there didn't seem too much to talk about.
Myself and Amanda did a 60 mile run based on the Southern Sportive route that I did a few weeks before, but since she had not done any of that route before, it was all new to her.
She meet up with Duncton Hill and did well - the only bad spot was that she had three!! punctures on the route.

This week though Amanda was tied up taking her recently formed ladies only cycling club, out on their maiden trip from Lepe on Saturday.
I fancied a long run but did not want to go too far from home, so I set out into the New Forest, to complete one of the training rides that I used for the London to Paris.
The added miles from home to the start of the ride at Half Moon Common would take the ride to over 85miles, although most of the ride would be flat.

The one real exception to that is Blissford Hill which although very short, has a really steep section (the sign says 25%, but my Garmin Edge 705 indicated a max of 21% - either way it is steep enough to create a grunt or six).
Fortunately enough, I missed most of the rain, and again, really struggled in the second third of the ride, only to get better towards the end -  a nutritional rethink is on the cards.
Still, on the positive side, I did the whole ride without a stop (other than for nature) and did all the eating and even put on my rain jacket while on the move - a useful skill I could do with working on with the Lake District in mind.
Got back in time to listen to the football on the radio as well.

The Sunday weather forecast was not good - nice start but but by Midday, rain would be in control. Neither myself or Amanda wanted to get wet so we set off early and were ready at the Marchwood Enclosure by 8.30am for a (hopefully) brisk 30 miles. A few technical faults later, we were done and home just in time for the heavens to open - almost exactly on 12pm.
Although the ride was not hard, by the time I had washed the bikes down and sat down, my legs were toast - completely wrecked....
and so the Sunday ended with me watching the football and eating vitually everything that we had left in the house.
Amanda got up early to give me a lift to work on Monday - seriously in debtted to her for that!

The Outlaws Cometh

Saturday morning and the prospect of of Mum and Dad coming down for the weekend meant that the only chance to get a ride in was to do an extended route home from work. Both myself and Amanda had given blood the night before, so this really limited us to a fairly short, non-taxing route home.
So I went in and while I was working, Amanda rode in to met me (my Trek 1.2 was already at work), and we set off through the south side of Winchester and did an extended route along various stretches of the beautiful River Itchen.

This is a route that we have done a few times but today was beautiful - a (insert appropriate collective noun here) of Long Tailed Tits escorted us along the hedgerow as we set off...

The ride itself was fairly uneventful except for the the huge number of snowdrops on the bank of the River Itchen as it passes through Ovington.

We were so taken that Amanda insisted on a photo....

A lovely stretch this.
28 miles later and we arrived home to find Mum and Dad already arrived, in the house, drinking tea and tucking into the cake that was made for me!!!........ We knocked on the door only to get no answer......Honestly, you couldn't make it up.

Alex v The Elements

No pictures this week, just me grumbling about how hard cycling is when the conditions are bad.
With Amanda visiting her parents this weekend I had planned to really test myself, both in terms of the mileage and circumstances that would test my mental resolve - and so it proved.
Planning the route on Friday night I decide that I would do the major part of the Southern Sportive route that I completed in September. A few adjustments we needed but the main idea was to try and complete 100 miles - It would be the first time that I had tried to complete so many miles on my own.
Glancing at the weather forecast the signs were not good - a strong southwesterly wind was forecast which meant that the whole of the second (and home leg) would be straight into the wind. No worries I thought, I am quite a strong wind rider and this will give me the test I need.
Waking up Saturday morning I was greeted by the sound of howling winds outside - still, I downed my porridge, got the bike ready, had some muesli, packed two water bottles, 5 snickers bars, a banana and a tub of mixed nuts into my various pockets and headed out at 7.20am towards West Meon, where I would meet the Southern Sportive route.
This route is a delight really - nice roads, including some main ones, but at no point were they too busy, and I plugged on towards Petersfield with the wind at my back. I was determined though, not to go too fast as I knew that I would need to keep all the energy I had for the return part of the ride.
It began to drizzle, which meant the drops were coming in sideways on the back of the wind, and it almost felt as though mother nature was throwing drawing pins at me. It wasn't that cold though and this led to my first mistake - as it wasn't raining hard, I decided not to put on my rain jacket as I thought I would overheat. I had now turned and the wind and rain was coming in diagonally from the left hand side - horrible. Turning left and heading up towards the climb of Harting Down my legs turned to lead and it felt as though I had put the bike in reverse. It was only once I got home that I realised that the top of this hill is the second highest point of the route.
I finally arrived at the top and had to stop to eat my banana - five minutes later and now starting to feel cold, I put the rain jacket on and headed off again, downwind towards Goodwood.
Once over the fifty mile mark, it seemed the best idea was to find somewhere for a coffee and hopefully something warm to eat, so a sign for "The Pheasant" was just what the doctor ordered. Once inside a nice spot next to a large radiator beckoned, and so the process of de-robing began.
As I took off my jacket I started to realised just how wet I was. My Alzheimer's jersey was soaked through, and so was the jacket below. I duly hung them over the radiator and looked down at my base layer which was also soaked - no wonder I was starting to struggle with all that extra weight.
Forty five minutes, two coffees, a coke, a bowl of soup and numerous trips to the hand dryer later, most of the gear was OK to put back on - I couldn't really have had any complaint if the Landlord had been waiting at the door to charge me for all the extra power that I had used.
Once back on the road, and heading back into the wind I was feeling much better and around 12 miles further on I met a main road with enough cars coming past to make me stop and take a drink - Nooooooo!!
I had left both my water bottles in the pub after I had filled them up - too far to go back - not feeling quite so chirpy now - silly sod - never mind, no point worrying about it now, SUMO (shut up and move on).
And so it continued.... into the wind.
I think I am quite a good rider in the wind - you make yourself as small as you can, and just try and keep a rhythm and keep your cadence sensible. At least that's what you try and do, and then the elements slap you down and throw in a gust - all momentum lost and your legs get sapped just trying to regain your ground.
This is where your mind is tested, you want to give up, your mind plays tricks.
Arriving in Clanfield, popping into a shop, and stocking up on water (I couldn't take it with me as the bottle was too big), gave me a sense of revitalisation and having popped my lights on the bike, I was finally on the last stretch and eventually turned onto our drive at 4.20pm (ish).
A fib about no pictures - here's the screeenshot from the Garmin.

Until next week. (Wow 47.6 MPH - that's fast :-) )