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Dorset training weekend by Matt 'BH the Younger' Haworth

These two days of cycling were suggested by Antony to help those that were going to Majorca to get some miles in prior to the training camp. Most people had been deprived of proper riding due to the treacherous icy roads we have been treated to over this long, cold winter!

The trip started early on the morning of Wednesday 20th January. I left mine at 05:40 and met Clive for a 06:15 start in Sawbridgeworth and we set off.

The first we heard from Antony, he had flown round the M25 and was already at J18, we were nearly at J26. To make things worse Clive and I then proceeded to get held up in traffic for most of the journey. This put us over an hour behind Antony and John who even had time to stop for a drink or two. We didn’t have that luxury.

We finally arrived near Bramshaw at 10am. I got changed, picked my bike out of the undergrowth (where Antony had thrown it due to it’s old clunker status!) and set off.

The ride began with an initial climb. I wondered what I had let myself in for and was desperately hoping that the others weren’t finding it too easy. We crossed the beautiful landscape of the high plains of the New Forest which enabled my heart rate and breathing to settle down – for now. Wild ponies stood at the side of the road oblivious to us riding through the mist a few feet from them.

At one stage Corinna asked how far the café was. To which Antony replied “not far”. I sort of believed him although I realise now I shouldn’t have.

We cycled on and I was struggling, dragging myself up the hills on the “old clunker”. A rest came when Clive punctured so we drew up next to some clean looking pigs and greeted a local pedestrian as he passed. I wondered where he was going; it was the middle of nowhere.

Corinna and the Branster cycled ahead, with the target of Sixpenny Handley. The possibility was suggested to me to join them, I should have taken it up! I carried on with Antony, John and Clive trying to hang on to the nearest wheel.

We all re-grouped and continued on. We came to Bowerchalke (where apparently Guy Ritchie has a house) and onwards towards Shaftesbury. After a climb where I had once again been dropped, Clive came back to give me some support and told me that Antony had said there was one more climb and the café was at the top. John, Clive and I went ahead whilst Antony rode with the others.

We took a right turn and climbed up through a village (Sixpenny Handley). No café at the top!

Out of the village and up another climb John was convinced the café must be near by. I waited salivating by a golf course entrance. The Antony train came past and he shouted some words of encouragement to us at which point I knew the golf club was not the venue for us, so we soldiered on.

I then realised that we were starting the final climb. Corinna and I were at the back and went steadily up the 11% gradient (although I hadn’t realised that statistic until I saw the sign on the way back down). I let my mind get the better of me and slowed down and dropped back further.

Rise after rise I made my way hopefully towards our airfield destination. Antony was lurking in a side turning and joined me to try and help my climb. Grateful as I was I just couldn’t make myself move any quicker. I reached the top! Antony and John were there and we took a left turn to chase down the others.

Upon arrival at Compton Abbas airfield, Graham was immersing his head in the steam from an outlet in the wall. I am not sure what was coming out of it but it didn’t smell great.

We entered the café, cold, tired and wet. Luckily there were a number of radiators we could utilise to dry some of our gear. Antony asked how I felt. I said “this is a very rare time that I wished I was at work”.

The food was very nice. Over lunch Antony checked the map and said the route back was more direct. Excellent!

We left but at the bottom of a descent, Clive punctured again. Corinna, Graham and I set off ahead. I had learnt from my earlier mistake!

We each took it in turns at the front, guided by Graham’s Garmin. At one junction we encountered a tractor pulling a cyclist chest height trailer. We pulled up behind it as it tried to manoeuvre its way into a field. Unsurprisingly it didn’t mange it first time so reversed slightly coming straight for Graham, luckily he was quick to react. It then rode up the verge and into a speed limit sign which managed to stay standing.

Once the danger had gone we continued our ride, wondering when the others would reach us. I felt much stronger after lunch which I was very pleased about. We rode back a similar way to which we had travelled out but with less testing climbs.

Upon reaching some roadworks I realised that Graham has lost the use of part of his cassette and could only use four sprockets (I have now come to understand that this is a fairly common phenomenon known as ‘The Shimano Effect!’). Regardless the Branster forged on.

We carried on, and soon we busy were negotiating the mid afternoon traffic of Fordingbridge . “They’re behind us” called out Graham and lo and behold there they were, so we were now back as a group of 6 and off we went. Not far now!

Another quite steep but shortish climb arrived and I was next to John. John said something about it looking steep and immediately I shot backwards as I obviously decided I was better going at snails pace. I bucked my ideas up, got out of the saddle and dragged myself back up to Clive’s wheel and hung on until the top, where we waited briefly for Corinna and Graham.

We were then back in the land of the wild ponies. Antony then took a turn on the front and I decided it was best if I let him, Clive and John ride off ahead. I dug in to make the most of the last 5 miles and was so keen I overshot the car park. It was probably something to do with the lorry breathing down my neck and the enjoyment of the final downhill. I returned to the car park to find the others rushing to get changed and into their dry & warm cars.

Upon leaving the car park Clive and I lost Antony who we were following to the bike shop. We then all made our way separately to the Hotel Collingwood.

We sat down for dinner to be greeted by two very nice bottles of 2004 Bordeaux courtesy of Barry Clarke, keen cyclist and owner of the Hotel. These were very nice and there was no fear of them being bettered by the Pinot Noir we ordered afterward.

After dinner we went to the Litten Tree. A huge pub but not particularly busy apart from some people that looked like they should have been at a masquerade ball and a load of underage looking girls playing Pub Golf. I stayed until about midnight, Graham, Antony and John went on to a Russian Bar until quite late!! Followed also I understand by Doner Kebabs. Tut Tut! Not the sort of food I thought would be consumed on a so-called Training Camp following (and preceding) a hard day of cycling.

Thursday

I arrived for breakfast at 7:50, 10 minutes prior to the planned time. Closely followed by John and followed later by Antony. Finally everyone arrived apart from Graham who stayed in bed.

We all ate well at breakfast although there was confusion about what two poached eggs and bacon meant. A plate with one egg and one piece of bacon, then 2 eggs and a bit of bacon came out, then one egg, then a plate of beans. Luckily my porridge and then Full English Breakfast, albeit small arrived complete.

Five of us without Graham set out from the hotel at about 10am. We had a nice ride although I know a number of us were feeling the day before in our legs. We were about 5 miles from Blandford and the road began to rise again. I kept pushing to stay with John and Clive but had to let them go and made my own way up. Corinna had suffered the ‘knock’ and being paced by Antony soon joined us at the top.

At the junction Corinna and I took a shorter route whilst the others continued on with the target of a big local climb, Bulbarrow Hill. After taking directions from Antony, a local shopper and Graham by phone, we finally made it to Bere Regis. Our ride was assisted by drafting behind Graham’s car and Graham supplying Sports Beans (courtesy of Clive) out of the window.

The Royal Oak was our lunch (and beer for me) venue.
 

We were lucky it was there as the other pub didn’t do food anymore and there was no café. Lunch consisted of various hot dishes and John also had pudding, and a Nutrigrain Elevenses bar. I think he needed the extra fuel to power his aching legs.

During lunch Corinna and I decided we would utilise the non-cycling Graham who had driven to meet us for lunch. We felt the 46 miles prior to lunch would be enough. The other three set off at about 14:30 heading for Sandbanks and the ferry. The other side they were going to ride along the seafront to the hotel. I stayed in the pub enjoying a couple of pints of Stella chatting with the landlord and his wife. Corinna collected me and my bike and we went back to the hotel but arrived after everyone else.

Once we showered we had a cup of tea in reception then drove out to get some dinner. We plumped for Dosa World, a Sri Lankan and South Indian restaurant which was very nice. We finished up in there and made our way to the cars and out of Bournemouth by 20:00 with thoughts of warmer rides in Majorca in our minds.

Matt
 

Attended by

- Antony Stapleton
- John Golder
- Clive Richardson
- Graham Brant
- Corinna Francis
- Matt Haworth

 

Editors Notes.

The highest point reached on the Wednesday was the top of Ashmore Down (Cranborne Chase) at 263mts. On the Thursday the group was very pleased to hear from a regular in the pub that we had crossed the highest point in Dorset (Bulbarrow) at 274mts above sea level. Upon further investigation it appears this was a ruse as next years target is Lewesdon Hill, the true highest point in Dorset at 279mts!

For the stat hunters both days were in the mid 70’s for mileage, the lanes are quiet and very, very scenic, and if you fancy a break in the area you can call the Hotel Collingwood on 01202-557575. Mention you are a cyclist and preferential rates await!

Until next time!

A.
 

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