Oh no! Not (Brighton) Again!
In early 1999, Liz Milne had (at a weak moment,
probably) said that she was quite happy to ride the tandem tricycle for
a few more races. So I
checked that this included (in principle at least) an RRA record attempt
or two. I guess she must
have said yes to shut me up.
So, in preparation for her return from a holiday in
May, I submitted schedules to the RRA for us to attempt the “London to
Brighton and back” record and the “London to Portsmouth and back”
record. In each case, there
was no existing record, but a “lowest standard” to beat.
The first opportunity we had was soon after she
returned from the two weeks of Mediterranean touring.
Despite my enthusiasm, and the fact that we were at an
acknowledged “gap” in her plans for the summer, she didn’t want to do
the ride. There then
followed about six weeks featuring several National Championships and
other important races, leaving us at the start of August.
We were both getting quite good results.
For me, this was great news because it increased the likelihood
of setting tight records.
For Liz, it meant that she took a greater interest than usual in the
Best All-Rounder competition.
For me, this was a downer, as it meant that she wasn’t as keen to
go record breaking!
In early August, we had a serious discussion in a
café in Chelmsford (!), and identified two possible “windows” in her
schedule. The first was
between 8th and 10th August, with the second a few weeks later.
So, it was left for me to check the weather, and Liz to ensure
she could get time off work if we went on 9th or 10th.
The weather expected for 8th or 9th started to look
“possible” for a go at the Brighton record.
Then Liz said that it would be very difficult to get Monday 9th
as holiday, and that she wanted to ride a 25 on Sunday 8th.
As what I thought was just a gesture towards me, she said that
she would try to get Monday morning off.
Gloomily, I checked the forecast, and concluded that Monday wasn’t
suitable. When I phoned
her, I said that we should drop the plan, and try again later in the
month.
Imagine my disbelief, when I heard “Oh no, and I
was really psyched up for Monday.
Are you sure it’s no good?”.
So I looked again at the charts, and we agreed that I would get
expert advice and speak to her again on the following evening.
Suddenly I had moved from being the persuader to
the persuaded. Monday had
looked likely to be very wet, and a bit unpredictable.
Happily, though, any winds wouldn’t be very strong.
I notified the RRA that we would ride the Brighton Road on the 9th, and
then began arranging the necessary back-up.
Eddie Mundy and Dave Stalker were in the car, with Don Glover
timing the start. Keith
Robins was dealing with the London turn, and with Mick Kilby and Frank
Blake at Brighton, all I needed was someone to time the finish.
Don would be at work, as would most other timekeepers.
After much anguish, I rang Owen Drake, who was happy to help.
But there was a complication ….. on a morning likely to include
some highly dodgy weather, he didn’t fancy the ride from Crawley, and he
doesn’t drive. So now we
needed another driver!
Happily, Frank Brighty stepped forward to complete the team.
Now, all we had to do was the ride.
While the above organising was being done, I fitted in a fast 10 on the
tandem on the Saturday afternoon, and Liz, as mentioned above, rode a 25
on the Sunday. I “rested”
on the Sunday, missing what turned out to be a fast 25.
The published schedule suggested that we would aim for a time only just
faster than the slowest acceptable speed.
However, I believed that we would probably be able to beat that
by at least 30 minutes, and so prepared an alternative schedule for a
time of 4h 40m.
So, we arrived at the start in dry darkness.
What a relief not to have the irritation of drizzle, or worse.
Most of Sunday had been rather wet, and only a real optimist
would have put money on Monday being dry.
We set off into the black, pedalling comfortably.
But you would, as the first section is all downwards.
At Purley, we had the first climb. I felt that we struggled a
bit, but we got to the first check inside the schedule.
We had a good run through to Hyde Park Corner, including nervously
crossing a couple of major junctions where the traffic lights were
“out”. At the turn, we got
a shout from Keith, and as we cut across the middle of the roundabout, I
spotted that Eddie and Dave were still with us.
In fact, I was quite surprised to see a car on the roundabout,
until I realised that it was “us”.
At this point, we noticed a few raindrops.
Within minutes, we were properly wet, and feeling a bit
vulnerable. Although we had
lights, we were quite cautious for a while, as visibility was poor.
Having been 3 minutes up at the turn, we had given all of that
back by the next check.
As we approached Purley again, the roads were dry and daylight was
almost upon us. Opposite
the start, with one-third of the ride completed, we were 3 minutes
behind the schedule. A
fairly swift run through to Gatwick saw us just one minute behind.
Tony Killick witnessed us on our way through Tinsley Green, to avoid
much of the centre of Crawley.
When we had hauled ourselves up to Pease Pottage, we were two
minutes down.
But the next bit is quite fast, and with two long descents in the 6 mile
segment, we were back on schedule.
Even an over-geared climb (sorry Liz!) to Pyecombe only left us
one minute off, and we were on our way into Brighton.
We were starting to see some traffic, and were delayed a bit.
This resulted in our arrival at the coast with a two minute
deficit. After an elegant
sweep around the turn, we were on our way back to the North.
It’s a strange thing, but the climb to Pyecombe from the south is really
fast. At one point, we were
going uphill at 29 mph. Who
would complain, but I don’t understand how we were still two minutes
down at the summit.
We then ripped it up for a few miles, and found ourselves ahead of
schedule again. However,
after Hickstead there is a hideous drag, and once you’re over that you
can soon see the huge rise to Handcross.
I was really dreading this second climb, and had built it up as
being a nightmare.
Bizarrely, it wasn’t all that naughty in the end – just 5 minutes of
excruciation, ending with Liz saying “Well, that wasn’t too bad, was
it?”.
We were scant seconds behind schedule at Pease Pottage, and a good run
through Crawley would have put us in a fine position to finish
comfortably inside my target of 4h 40m.
Unfortunately, as I had expected, there were some delays.
We were only forced to actually stop once, but when we saw Tony
Killick for the second time, we were a minute down again.
We rode efficiently past Gatwick, and when we reached the last check we
had absorbed the deficit.
So intense was my concentration that we were riding away from the
junction before I realised that the “checker” shouting at us was my own
brother!
With eight miles to go, we were into “ride yourself into the ground”
mode. Five weeks earlier,
Dave Johnson and I had been in the same position.
We had given it everything, and Dave had “cracked” with a few
miles left to go. The
situation was eerily similar this time, with a twist.
We went through the 100 mile point in 4h 23m 45s, which seemed quite
good. And then, for the
second time in two consecutive “Brighton-and-back” tandem rides, my
partner caved in. Or did
she? No, it was my turn
this time. In a sickening
way, I suddenly had no strength.
And so we rode the undulations to Redhill in an unconvincing manner, not
helped by tailbacks of traffic.
It was a tremendous relief to coast down to the centre of the
town, and try to be nimble as we made our way through the traffic.
With three miles left, the chance of beating 4h 40m was remote.
The next couple of miles seemed to take an age, but eventually we were
out of Merstham and into the last, uphill, mile.
In my condition, I found it a slog.
Tandem-tricycles are a load of fun when you’re fit and feeling
good. I can’t speak for
Liz, but I’d like to forget that last mile.
As the finish came into sight, I shouted “there it is!” and I was soon
gracelessly collapsing across the line.
When we returned to the finish point, Owen Drake confirmed that
we had recorded 4h 41m 9s, which was almost 30 minutes inside the
Standard which we had to beat.
Stan Brown was pleased to tell me that I looked to be in a much worse
state than “last time”. He
was alarmed at how fresh I had seemed to be after the ride with Dave,
and was bringing into question how hard I’d tried.
After thanking those who had helped with the ride, we set off for home.
It was a while before I felt ready for the drive, but at least I
only had a half-hour trip.
Liz had somehow got to get to Cambridge, in the rain and misery that we
had somehow avoided during the ride.
And then she had to do an afternoon’s work.
It’s a tough life.
Ralph Dadswell Aug
1999