5 of use started at 6.45 at Winchester Rail station. 2 modern full boingers, a couple of 29er hardtails, and my 24yr old, recently refurbished, Clockie on a rigid fork.
The first thing was for find the King Alfred statue, the official start. Once the photo's we taken we were off, the first challenge was how to get across the M3 and onto the SDW for real. No bikes allowed on the footpath, so it was a bit of a tortuous route around. The clockie was off the front from the start, and as I remembered just how good these bikes handled, I was enjoying myself so much that after the first climb I had got so far ahead in the early morning fog, that after 5 minutes waiting I had just got the phone out to check with them, when figures appeared through the mist.
As the sun burned off the fog, the views across the downs were stunning. At the cafe at QE park at bit of maintenance was required. My BB had started to work loose and a 20 tooth BB tool is not something I usually carry, but there is bike rack and general tools at QE park, so with a flat screwdriver and make do hammer I was able to tighten it and carry on.
Back on the route and the the going was good. After a brief stop to watch the paragliders at Harting Down, I was off, loose arms compensating for no suspension, I was streaking downhill way ahead of others, when suddenly I hit some slimy chalk, which hadn't had the early morning sun on it to burn off the dew. The bike went sideways under me and I was on the deck sliding down at a rate of knots. Left arm and leg took the brunt of it, with a set of 3/4 bib shorts torn to shreds, but luckily apart from a scuffed barend the bike was OK.
This slowed me down a bit, not least because my left leg started cramping in the bruised area, but it knocked my confidence on the descents. It was during the next few hours we started getting punctures (mostly snake bites), I only had one, but one poor guy had 3 even though he started tubeless and split a tyre. This really knocked the timescale and we lost about 2 hours.
The eastern downs have a very different feeling to the western ones. The climbs are longer, but the descents are more gradual and 'swooping' so it feels that you are making some real progress, I had gotten over the spill and was leading the way again. However it was getting late and dark, so with about 16 miles left the decision was made to head down the road to the nearest station, and a crowed train back to London with lots of unhappy Springboks fans.
143km (89 miles)
2986 meters of ascent.
All said the old bike, held up well, was a joy to ride, and apart from my injuries from the off didn't course me any other discomforts.
