Saturday after lunch I started washing a couple of bikes, and fettling the PBP machine, which I had thought of riding on the Exodux. However, it was still in bits when time ran out, so I chose the fixed as being nearest to the same position.
I was slightly late meeting JW at Taunton. He was there fiddling with an inner tube having earlier had a puncture. We set off up the A38 to Bridgwater, then across the Levels, deciding on Shipham as the most straightforward way over the Mendips. JW then took over with an interesting gps track into Bristol, involving balloon festival traffic queues, hidden cyclepaths, a bit of off-road and a final climb up Park Street.
With an hour to go there were already loads of cyclists in Channings gardens. It took even longer for food to arrive (they'd run out of mayonnaise), so we didn't start till around 20 past nine, followed almost immediately by a stop to change the gps batteries. We rolled through Bristol on a disconcertingly northern path before finding the motorway bridge (whoops! The track's disappeared - and shouts from behind. Must concentrate).
We were soon overhauling slower groups and making a good pace. This ceased to be the case, for me at least, as we hit the cllimb to Cheddar Gorge. I wheezed and winched upwards. Another cyclist came alongside breathing as if he was about to die, but it was only Mike taking the piss. Then the descent, taking care not to ground a pedal on the bends, and suddenly lights and people milling. I said hello, was awestruck by Mr Gates's beard, and Baggy filled my bidon.
Felt ok, so set off - perhaps a mistake, for within a few miles I was fighting sleep. This lasted until North Curry, where tea and GB's excellent stew revived me - that and twenty minutes shut-eye in a chair. When I awoke there was a queue stretching to the door. Off again, leading a trio back to the main road where they dropped me. A little while later they passed me again, just before Blagdon.
It was beginning to tell, that I hadn't ridden the fixed in anger for more than a year. My back was painful as a levered my way up through Blagdon village. Through Smeatharpe and along the ridge road - no sign yet of the food stop, but they'd warned that they'd be late getting away from Cheddar. At which point I decided I'd had enough. There were only familiar roads to the unlovely town of Exmouth to go and I was feeling sleepy again, so I diverted through Wrangway and plummeted down to home.
E went back to sleep once she'd ascertained I wasn't a burglar. I had a bath and joined her. Garmin says 264km in around 13 hrs - kill or cure for the big event next week.
Thanks to Dave, Chuffy, Baggy, Graham, Andy and everyone else who organised. It looked like hard work. Hope it was fun.
