Lost in the Surrey Hills


Grey skies, gusting winds and the knowledge that it had rained pretty much ceaselessly on Saturday were mixed in with the dread sense that it was time to confront “the winter spread” resulting from the off-season and Christmas. Those the were the things weighing on my mind, in particular the 7kg I want to shift as soon as possible, as we set off towards Esher. No sooner were we under way than we were stopped by the first of many punctures that would pepper the ride and gradually erode the group down to several smaller grupetto.

The first hill wasn’t too bad (I think it was Whitedown Vale) and I managed to get up there in reasonable pace and shape after the group had been split into a steadier group and those who wanted to test their pace a bit. Guess which one I was at the back of?

By the time we got to the top we had been rejoined by the group who had stopped for the first puncture. And not just a puncture but also a broken saddle. I’ll try and find a prize to give away to the first person who can reasonably explain how a 50kg rider can snap the rails on a saddle. It doesn’t leave much hope for stouter cyclists if fetherweights can snap the blasted things.

From there on in things get confusing as the group got split at a couple of points and I got lost in my head due to lack of food. Then my hip seized up leaving me struggling round the rest of the ride. I did mean to write more about it and I shall do so at some other point. I’ve been rather knackered this week so it’ll have to wait.
