I like it [looks round nervously for signs of the padded van arriving]. The approach road is a drag but the climb proper has something very gratifying about it. The sheltering effect from the South winds means that there are times when a perfect stillness cossets you up the hill, despite having spent the rest of the ride buffetted and battered. The consolation for the false hope of a summit on every bend is that you get tantalising glimpses of the view. And the view from the top - especially when it's warm and there's a morning mist below! Shame about Ditchling drivers, who are arguably the most po-faced miserabilists on the planet. Cheer the f**k up, FFS!
I'm surprised to find that any of it is as steep as 18%. Having only done it once on a mtb years ago (before I discovered the FNRttC), I wildly overestimated it when I came back to it with a more sensible bike. I actually put a triple on my commuter/tourer/workhorse for the occasion. I didn't need the granny ring, but it has come in handy for other things since. Having tested the water with plenty of fall-back gears I'm more than happy with a 39/25 for it, unladen on the road bike. I think FF advised Susie well when he got her out of the saddle for the steeper bits - greet the variation in gradient with a corresponding variation in technique, and iron it out nicely. I suspect that the awe with which it is regarded has more than a little bit to do with people who have been defeated once judging the climb by their experience of pushing a bike up. Staying on isn't heroics - it's the easier option. Especially for those of us with the mincier sort of cleat. Having said that, I think it deserves its set-piece finale status in the context of the London to Brighton narrative, looming ahead impressively between you and your destination. And it makes a perfect landmark achievement for climbing-newbies or anyone setting themselves a personal goal. Long live the Ditchling Mystique!