My recent track record at the Devil's Punch Sportive has not been great, if I'm honest. Last year the corresponding event was rained off, with the roads washed out around Lurgashall Winery. Riders hoping for a Bacchanalian torrent were rewarded only with a knee-high wall of dirty, grey-green murk (perhaps it was the British wine, after all). A few months earlier, on an Evans ride, one of my co-Sportivistas suffered an ignominious exit at the hands of a pinch-flat blow out and while riding up the Hindehead cycle path, I came as close as I'd ever come to blowing up through lack of sugar - the dreaded bonk.
This time, I was going to do the ride no matter what the weather and conditions served up as it was my last event of the year. I was booked in for a long-overdue shoulder op which would finish my season and any delusions I had of cycling throughout the winter.
The venue start was different from previous years, with Hollycombe Steam Museum making way for Godalming College at the top of a nasty-looking climb up Tansley Lane, just outside the town itself. Myself and Nick, my riding buddy for the day, were helping out with registration for UK Cycling Events. While handing out event numbers and timing chips we got talking to Gemma, a triathlete who had recently moved up to the area from Southampton. She didn't know the roads very well so Nick invited her to join us for the ride.
Our duties done, and suitably wrapped up against the chilly Surrey weather, we set off. Signage, as usual, was excellent, and there was an abundance of marshalls posted at some of the more potentially hazardous junctions. Thankfully, the promised rain failed miserably to materialise in any force and the only thing that hampered our progress (apart from gravity in my case) was the typically near-consistent headwind.
I had forsaken traditional energy gels and bars for an orange and mango flavoured concoction made by Elivar, their Endure product adapted to provide the correct fuel and nutrients demanded by athletes over 35 (years of age, not percentage body fat). This was my second outing with the drink on board and I must confess that the change in my performance has been noticeable, especially since I managed to scare Nick into believing I was turning into his worst nightmare - a lardy chap who had learnt to climb like the skinny tart he is. He was convinced that I had been putting in extra hill training, but it may just have been a combination of regular hydration and a determination to 'leave it all on the road' - whether my body would be in debt for the remainder of the day was yet to be seen, but for the time being I felt fabulous.
The course was rolling, with nothing too testing or challenging in the first 50km - some potentially fantastic descents were marred by the debris strewn across the road by the ignominious arrival of Stormaggedon at the end of October. Gravel moraines cut across cornering lines and leaf litter made junctions potential out-takes from Dancing on Ice. There were plenty of other cyclist out on the roads dodging showers with us, including a peloton of Woking CC, resplendent in their red-and-white chequerboard jerseys heading up through Seale towards the Hog's Back.
Disaster struck for us on the short and cheekily steep climb up Jobson's Lane where Nick, in a burst of Awesome, snapped his chain. Luckily, he carried a speed link - but could not split the broken link out of the chain with his multitool. Gemma watched on in amused interest as she confessed that all the emergency bicycle maintenance she'd seen had been on YouTube. With the application of a bit of percussive maintenance, copious amounts of swearing and an extra bit of leverage from my chain splitter we were away again, covered in glory but also fair amounts of chain grease.
With less than 20km to go, we only had to suck in stomachs and tuck in elbows for the event photographers up the hill into Hambledon - but there was, as there always is with UKCE events, a nasty sting in the tail as we had to re-ascend Tansley Lane back to the start/finish line. This was the only time during the whole day we experienced any kind of traffic conflict - and to be fair, it was as much the road surface as the incline that caused deviation from the straight and narrow.
Rewarded as usual with warmth and enthusiasm at the finish, we packed away our goody bags, scraped the dirt and debris from shoes, legs, frames and forks and hit the road back home, pausing only to have a celebratory cuppa and recovery snack and to check phones for missed calls.
Despite my efforts, I missed the arbitrary 'silver' time slot by a few minutes (not that I'm blaming Nick's exploding chain, oh no...) which would have been a nice way to end the year. I'm already planning some turbo-based convalescence over the coming months and hoping to get signed up for some late winter rides like the Hell of the Ashdown... This year isn't finished yet!
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