www.dadswell.co.uk Mostly cycling records, mostly on three wheels
No Bottling Out Allowed!
with love from
Ralph
Back to Rides in 1993
One of 1993's tricycling targets turned out to be Dave Pitt's "London to
Portsmouth and back" record.
In June, having been over most of the route on a number of
occasions in the past, I produced a schedule.
The selected start/ finish point was Albert Road, on the Kingston
bypass. This meant I had a
ride of about 10 miles each way to visit the Hyde Park Corner turn, and
that the finish, being most of a record-breaking 25 mile course, would
be very quick.
This schedule was for a 5am start, but I revised this to 4am when
further thought was given to the likely weather conditions.
I wanted a calm ride for the section into London, and then down
to Portsmouth ... followed by a rising tail-wind to bring me back to the
start. A further point in
favour of the earlier start was that Portsmouth would be easier at 8 am
than 9 am.
Unusually, there was not a lengthy delay while the right weather
conditions were awaited.
Extraordinarily, in fact, the weather was suitable on the first day that
the new schedule was valid.
In a bit of a panic, I phoned Audrey Hughes to "book" her as Timekeeper
and Observer. To deal with
driving and feeding, I got a willing volunteer in the guise of Andy
Gallacher, a work colleague.
The instruction was to meet at my flat, at 0245.
I decided to do the ride with my sole energy source being drinks of
Maxim, with only some Tracker bars to convince my stomach that it wasn't
being starved. This was
partly because I believed that food was unnecessary on a ride as short
as 146 miles, and partly because I didn't want to be bothered with
preparing the stuff.
We arrived at the start at 0330, and I began assembling my trike.
Andy wandered off to the start point to paint the road, to show
exactly where I had to finish.
I expected a white line, with "Pompey" or "Ralph" written nearby.
He chose, however, to write "No Bottler, RD" instead.
To explain. Andy is fiercely (although possibly not seriously)
critical of people (particularly me) who don't finish races.
The action of abandoning has been defined as "bottling" -ie not
having the "bottle" to finish.
After this year's 24 hour, when I failed to finish, I had been
tagged "the bottler". Ho
hum.
Meanwhile, with Dave Pitt appearing as an additional witness for the
start, I was despatched on time.
Dave managed to bypass me and get to Roehampton Lane, to see me
across the lights. The
junction was in my favour, though, and he shouted out "Piggin' hell
Raef, even the bloody lights are green for you!"
I continued, through Putney, over the bridge, along Kings Road, and was
soon at the Hyde Park Corner turn.
Eddie Mundy sent me around the turn, and I was one minute up on
schedule. Retracing, with
marshalling assistance from Frank Cubis, I passed the start point and
was two minutes up at the Hook underpass.
Dawn was breaking as I crossed the M25, and a shout from Esther helped
me to climb up the Hog's Back.
With a small group of witnesses, I stopped at the summit to lose
my lights, and left this check point at 0556, two minutes ahead of my
plan.
After passing Milford, I was on the long slog up to Hindhead, and my
advantage was slipping away.
In fact, I was level with schedule as I passed the cross roads.
The descending past Liphook, featuring a shout from clubmate Alan
Dawson, left me two minutes ahead.
This soon vanished when I climbed away from Petersfield to Butser
Hill. The wind was rising
in my face, and there was rain falling.
This was the lowest point for morale, as I struggled at about 12
mph.
Things looked a little better as I approached Horndean, and I arrived on
schedule. The temporary
traffic lights in the village seemed to be under my control, as they
miraculously changed to green as I approached.
I made my way up the hill and along to Cowplain, where my Aunt
and Uncle were waiting with some welcome encouragement.
Pete Pickers and his mum were also out getting wet.
I was soon on my way down Portsdown Hill towards Portsmouth itself with
the wind seeming to be worryingly light.
However, when CCP witnessed me at the HMS Nelson turn, he noted
that I was just 2 minutes down.
(photo at the Portsmouth turn, featuring poorly adjusted helmet)
The return visit to Portsdown Hill was not as traumatic as expected, and
was actually quite routine - must have been a tail wind.
I struggled a little for the next few miles, and was getting
rather edgy as the wind didn't seem very useful.
Horndean was visited 5 minutes later than planned, but this was as bad
as the deficit got. Once I
had eased myself back onto the main A3, things started moving well.
After zooming off Butser Hill, I was 3 minutes up at the check
near Liss. However, this
advantage evaporated during the long rise to Hindhead, and I was again
level at the cross roads.
Traffic queues were building up here, and my helpers could only just see
me at this point.
Apart from a nervous moment in the Devil's Punchbowl, I was sure that
conditions would now be favourable to the finish.
My guess at this point was that I would probably be worth a 10
minute improvement on the record.
I flew along the next few miles, and was soon on the run up to
the Hog's Back, at Guildford.
Mr Pitt was at the roadside, and had realised that I was ahead of
schedule. He kept shouting
"Slow Down!" at me, but I pretended not to understand.
Six minutes was the advantage over schedule here, with 22 miles
to go. The wind was
obviously rising behind me now, as I was able to keep the speedo saying
30 mph for lengthy periods.
There was a shout from above, as Pete Stonebanks and several other
firemen stood on a footbridge. Thankfully, I didn't get a high-pressure
hose fired at me!
As I homed in on the M25 junction, the traffic was heavy and fast
flowing. There was a
nervous couple of minutes as I had to move out to the second lane, to
climb onto the flyover.
Dave Pitt did some unorthodox traffic management to protect me from the
sliproad traffic, and we were across 14 minutes up.
The last ten miles were also very quick, in particular the section
through the underpasses as we approached the finish.
For these last 3 or 4 miles, I don't believe the speed went under
30 mph, and peaked at 38 with 400 yards to go.
It was at this point that I momentarily free-wheeled, in preparation for
the final flourish. I then
spotted George, who was timing the finish, and I sprinted.
I crossed the line with a time of 6 hours, 30 minutes 40 seconds.
This lowered Dave's record by 22 minutes 13 seconds, and raised the
speed to 22.25 mph.
I was quite pleased with that, but all I got from Andy was "You bottled
at the finish! I saw you freewheel!"
Shining Wit Productions
All Bonuses Reserved 1993