We were all keen to ride today and are all steadily getting stronger. We met up without a plan but I insisted on riding into the sun as I was so cold. It would be warm later and I was dressed for that but leaving home there was ice all over the car roof and I arrived near the seafront freezing.
We decided to go for Ditchling Beacon, over Falmer Hill to Rottingdean and then back via Devil’s Dyke. I’ve created a Strava segment from Hangleton to Devil’s Dyke. I knew that with company it would be quick but with my colleagues I was likely to do a PB but lose my KOM.
We are a mixed bunch of various ages, 30 years between two of us and 22 kilos between another pair. Now running a shop I know that there are some things that you can buy to make you faster. Generally, anything that saves weight will give you an advantage, the more that you spend the faster you go in the battle against gravity. You can spend to reduce the effects of the air. At 20mph 50% of your effort goes into forcing your way through the air. You can spend to improve your fitness and energy. A computer/GPS/phone won’t actually make you quicker but they will help you in your training which will make you quicker.
But there is one thing that you just can’t buy.
We arrived at the base of Ditchling Beacon and I watched everyone ride away from me. I didn’t care as it always happens, I simply focus on my effort and I know that over a long climb I can claw back my early losses. So who was first up? The big guy. 14 kilos over me, 20 over Joe and 22 over Barney. Well I want a bit of that, how much? It’s priceless! Unless I could have a pact with the Devil up on the Dyke I couldn’t buy what Byron has. Age. He is young. I do my best but I just can’t roll back the years.
Three times I got stuck behind cars on descents and, to keep up my track record with the fairer sex, the blondie at Clayton on the A273 kept pulling over each time that I tried to pass.
The high point of the ride was the run in into Rottingdean, the B2123 is a great road ruined by selfish motorist but it’s worth the aggro for the descent to the sea. A classic car passing drop and I hit 79kpm, nearly 50mph! I had previously thought that at my old age I’d never have the nerve to do more than 45mph. So whilst I might not be young I am still a teeny bit young at heart.
Great ride guys and I was back on my Wilier Cento Uno, sweet. It’s lighter now as I have stopped carrying gas. My Lezyne Road Drive is so good that I’ve dispensed with carrying CO2.