The first satisfying thing is; I plotted this route in the morning before I left using some prior knowledge from the ride I did 2 weeks ago and some intelligence of where I didn't want to be riding on a dark November evening in Derbyshire.
After 2 failed plots which turned out around 130 miles (saved those for later), I finally had a reasonably satisfying route to near Newark that could see me through a more conservative 90 miles. After I trimmed down my aero bars to make them less ungainly and transferred all the appropriate stuff into a small lightweight bag, I headed out of the house at 11am, stopping at the cafe in Baslow - open this time - for lunch at 12:30. It was already nice to step inside into the warm.
I was happy to leave well before the three riders who walked through the door with me. I felt like an elite whippet on a mission - I was. To get around 90 miles without getting home too fucking late.
The main road section from Chatsworth to Rowsley was hard going. Although the aero bars helped with the wind, nothing could deter from the constant stream of traffic. I was so thankful to turn off at Alport and wiggle on backlanes to Elton and Grangemill to Cromford Mills. Sadly it was then back on the A6 which is, at least, wide enough. The rain started pouring down here and just as I was thinking I needed to adjust my right cleat and might put my water proof on, I could just do with a nice bus shelter. Better than that, a cafe appeared.
I'd forgotten to get cash out so had to calculate whether to order scone or tea or if I could eat enough food to justify £10 on a card. I begrudgingly ordered tea only, thinking I'd sneak my own cake but that was in a bag outside in the rain so I just guzzled 3 cups of tea and sat in a couch with my shoulders back and my head upright and closed my eyes for 5 minutes. By the time I'd done it wasn't raining any more. I adjusted my shoe cleats and headed out.
At Whitsandwell I managed to turn off and head up a steep climb to a memorial which could be seen for miles. They were just closing up and the groundsman was shutting the gate with the assistance of his two beautiful sheepdogs. As the sun set, the rain played with me again so I took off my gillet, put my water proof on and enjoyed the high level North road with the sun on one side and the moon rising on the other.
Once the sun was gone, I didn't really know where I was or where I was going. The map was zoomed in so I could see each turn ahead but not really know where I was in relation to the rest of my route. The place names meant nothing to me or came and went without me realising where I was - mostly because I wasn't looking up.
I was mainly eating the cake in my bag and looking out for turns, then tapping the Garmin screen to check whether I should take them or not. Littlemoor and Wooley Moor came and went and I started to watch distant bonfires and fireworks from the ridge above many towns and villages around me. In a way I didn't mind that I didn't know where I was and it was kind of liberating. I was just focused on finishing the ride and progress didn't matter. I could check my watch to see what distance I had left, where it took me wasn't an issue.
At Tibshelf I stopped for "dinner" in an open Co-op. It was a surprise to me it was open as it seemed late on a Saturday night but in actual fact it was around 6:15 so not so late at all. I ate my food outside as I packed up my bag with peanuts (for in case) and some tic tacs which just happened to catch my attention. They went in the bag up front, along side the left-over cake. I checked my phone and had a message from my cousin asking what time I was going to the bonfire tonight. Shit, I thought it was Sunday and cursed because I'd miss it. I do love a good bonfire and it would have been nice to catch up with them and my "nephew" Brandon. "Sorry", I said, "Can't make it, still in Tibshelf on my bike". I had around two and a half hours riding to do if I was going to complete my 90 mile ride and strongly suspected the 7pm firework display would be over by the time I got there.
At one point I materialised in a village having an open event and had to wind my way through the cars - people scrabbling to find the last available spots to park, meanwhile passing motorists on their way to somewhere else roared their engines in frustration.
In the thick of it I discovered that one (of my three) rear lights had run out of battery. The next village I came across had an open Co-op so (this ride sponsored by Co-op) I went in to buy some AAA batteries. The lovely lady on the till had 55 minutes to work before terminating her employment with the company. A man was bringing a large black parcel filled with cigarettes to stock up the kiosk with fags and I asked, "Is that your leaving present?"
She was leaving because they wouldn't give her the working hours she needed. She was really pleasant so I said it was their loss and she genuinely thanked me. I felt happy as changed my batteries at the next till and joked with the motorcyclist in line next to me about it not being a night for poor rear-end visibility.
At Stainsby I had a slight navigational error around Haddon Hall. Whilst I could have attempted to sneak stealth through their grounds in the darkness, bypassing a no-entry sign, it probably would have ruined by evening had I been discovered or got to the other end to find myself locked-in, having to retrace my pedal strokes even further - what if I'd then been locked in at both gates?!! I checked my map and the route around was much longer than riding back the way I had come so that is what I did.
Back on the route, a detour I had planned (to get the 90 miles in) was discounted on the basis of the extra mileage I'd just acquired in going off course. When I reached it, it was the exit from the Hall and it was locked so instead of being angry at choosing to retrace my pedal strokes, I was glad of it.
From Glapwell, the view only got finer. I navigated by the light of the full moon, bronzed in the smoke and keeping me on track with the Garmin directions so saving battery and watched the fireworks in Clay Cross and other villages, the piece de resistance being the big finish of the display at Bolsover Castle where people pay £10 for entry.
Despite knowing this place is so close directly to Eckington on the edge of Sheffield, my route continued to wibble around the flat-ish countryside with only minor discretions into stream beds at the bottom of steep-cut stream valleys. They were wet and caused me to splatter water up my shins and onto my face and I cursed the weird forks which had given me such a comfy day's ride so far. I pondered actually making some shims to enable them to take mud guards.
Middle Handley, Aperknowle, all passed. I knew I was nearing home but not sure how near. All I knew was how many miles I had to do. 25 became 14. I reached Marsh Lane which I knew was a little bit close to home and then finally I was in Eckington and I started to worry, I needed the end of this trip to have 10 miles in it to make the 90.
After a number of 80 miles rides have come in at 77, I wanted this one to work. I knew I had cut out that loop through Haddon Hall.*
I checked the garmin, only to find out that I was off course. A back lane from Marsh Lane to Eckington had been missed. It didn't matter. I knew my way back from Eckington and this extra distance would probably bump me nicely up to 90.
I textd Andrew to say I was nearly home and he set about hunting pie and chips for tea. I enjoyed the bike lanes up to White Lane accompanied by the big finish fireworks at the display I should have been at with my Cousin.
I warped through town, still quite strong on the hill climbs considering - or was it just because I put a big block on the back and now had two more teeth to play with? Was it just the fact it had started a blistering rain storm in the breeze and I was getting colder by the pedal stroke? As I rode up the last steep hill to Walkley, the big finish was just happening at the university sports ground and I even paused by the side of the road to watch the last few massive fireworks that had looked so small from my elevated position on a ridge ride earlier.
It was a good night for big finishes.
Final stats
Distance: 90.93 miles (*though I missed a section after Tibshelf when I forgot to start my watch).
Elevation: 2042m elevation (not so flat then)
Riding time: 8:09:59
Time out: 9h:40m
Lessons learned:
- I was knackered after this ride. Because I knew I would be back late and didn't want to get too cold or to keep everyone waiting (I lost focus and felt guilty when I realised I had messed my cousin around). I started to rush home. In the end I was warm enough, still had layers with me and TSK didn't mind waiting for dinner at 8.30. While it was no great drama this time, I need to be more relaxed about night time riding and stick to my earlier pace instead of rushing back. This tactic will vary if it's pissing with rain and blowing a gale.
- Don't buy tic tacs, they make too much noise.
- Stop forgetting to leave the spare light on the other bag.
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