The steady path to total lunacy continues. On Sunday I met all August's targets by riding the Barnt Green Bash 100km Audax, plus ECEing from Gloucester to make it 200.
I'd never tried an ECE before. In fact I hadn't made it to the start of an Audax for almost 3 years. I did my best to time it right, but still arrived at Honeybourne village hall almost 20 minutes early, more than enough time to identify my card and pick it up from the table. But I did think of one useful thing to do while waiting, and the 30-odd starters were called to order promptly for the start. Soon all the others were disappearing up the road, and apart from one late starter who shot past a few miles later, I was riding alone. Just like one of my usual rides.
At the first info brain teaser I found I'd left my pens on my kitchen table, so I took a photograph in case I should have difficulty remembering the answer later:
How far to Stratford?
The bridge in the background is Wootton Wawen aqueduct, on the Stratford-upon-Avon Canal.
The way onwards to the half-way control was the hilliest part, including some roads I've done before and one particularly alarming descent. The approach to Barnt Green runs alongside a large reservoir which looks attractive on a map but trees prevent any clear views. At the control it was good to exchange words with some fellow riders, my twin Garmin setup and battle-scarred Brooks proving to be of some interest.
Soon after restarting I was caught by an unruly peleton of about a dozen riders, including a tandem which was very slow uphill but shot past everyone in alarming fashion on the descents. My progress was a little steadier than the group's, so we ended up passing each other a few times before they finally disappeared for good. I don't think I spoke to a single one of them. They must think me terribly antisocial.
Most of the return was into a significant headwind. It didn't seem like much fun at the time, especially when setting out on the return ECE leg which I really didn't feel I wanted to do. We've all been there, haven't we? How long is it before we can't wait to be out there again?
My rather pretty butterfly-barred tourer, which I bought secondhand but practically unused 2½ years ago, has been gathering dust ever since. I think it's time to give it a proper try. After grimly battling the wind for so long on Sunday I ended with aches around both collarbones, and I think for me the days of the drops may be coming to an end. I have tested the butterflies and I know they're comfortable, but it'll be a huge culture shock.