I like hills. Some more than others. We were warned by our very own ‘Uncle Sam’ that this would be a lumpy ride. Perfect. My personal interpretation of the major lumps follow.
Church Hill, Cudham
One of the aspects of hills’ enjoyment is the descent down the other side. This was the opposite – down then up. Accepted wisdom states that you gain as much speed as possible going down to propel you up the other side. Going down an unfamiliar single lane road, patchy surface, debris washed along from the previous night’s rain called for circumspection, as far as I was concerned. And suddenly the ascent began. Fumbling for the right gear, I mentioned to Catherine this is payback time for taking a descent first. She articulated an affirmative. Her look showed steely determination as she applied a constant cadence to carry her to the top. I continued to fumble for ever lower gears. Sensible girl, that Catherine. At what appeared to be the top, a right turn was required and a few steeper metres further on was the real summit. ‘Mind the sting in the tail’ read Uncle Sam’s ride notes. Quite.
Hosey Hill, Westerham
After taking a break at the village green and with less than 2 minutes back on the road, we were ascending again. A gentle gradual climb on a wide road. Just what was needed to spin the legs after the stop. A very pleasant conversation with Christian regarding the merits of professional (ice) hockey players from Slovakia and other (ice) hockey stuff helped pass the time. Not a usual topic of conversation one finds on CC rides, just the nicest people.
Rogues Hill, Penshurst
Sharp right after Penshurst Place, over a narrow stone bridge and the climb begins. A little kick up and the gradient stays fairly even for a while and then eases off near the top. Very little to see as tall trees line the road on both sides and enough bends to keep the next step up out of sight. A seemingly long and relentless grind. The reward comes as you enter Bidborough - a vast panoramic vista of northern Kent.
Kings Hill Road, Burwash
‘The last real hill of the ride’ according to Uncle Sam. Wide road, new smooth tarmac, no traffic, varying gradient, a lovely climb. If the legs and mind are in agreement. It was like a black ribbon laid across the fields and woodland. The Blue
Condor took flight. Gliding away with elegance and nonchalance. I caught up with Geoff and in between the laboured breathing, we exchanged pleasantries regarding the loveliness of it all. A quick stamp on the pedals and he arrived just ahead of me at the summit where the loveliness got lovelier - Mrs Uncle Sam proffering homemade blueberry muffins and drinks. A thoughtful touch.
There were other inclines and undulations, just none so intense. The route flyer makes much more sense to me now - post-ride! Next time I hope to complete the last, western section of the ride!
Thanks to all, especially Uncle Sam, for a wonderful day.
