Box Hill Billy

Having finally (only just) understood the elementary principles of this activity I feel duty bound to post what I now understand to be called a blog. I have been aware of the term for some time but have previously had no real understanding of its meaning let alone how to perform one.

Before I begin I must mention Paris Hilton, The Dalai Lama, Michael Jackson and Barack Obama in the hope that anyone Googling those guys will feel obliged to donate some cash to the Children's Trust as part of their otherwise fruitless journey through our website.

So to the matter in hand - due to circumstances beyond my control I have had little luck in joining up with too many people for the group rides that are now starting to spring up around the stockbroker belt. I have had good but all too rare rides out with Nick, Dave, Graham and Mike. I wish I could make it a more regular pleasure . 

I have generally been ploughing a lone furrow but have at least been consistent in ensuring that my preparation is perfect, after a fashion: 

I make a commitment to a day for a ride, I generally plan where I am going, I usually check the weather in advance, and just before I leave I check the conditions again - it has been invariably sunny and fair. My next step is to set out suitably equipped. Without fail my ride has started like a dream. What happens next is like a recurring nightmare and I have not yet learnt my lesson. This Sunday was no different.

I had ridden out the previous Saturday - suffered a puncture in Selhurst (irrational and disproportionate fear of bike/'phone/ipod theft during tube change), had cycled through central Croydon (why?). Having then survived a hailstorm in Purley (Tesco Junction) on the way to Banstead and up towards my destination of Box Hill I was feeling quite pleased with my tenacity. However, after riding past Dauphin, over the top and turning round three quarters of the way down the zig zags and then back up again over Box Hill, the weather just got worse and worse and I got more and more miserable. 

I got home at six thirty in the evening, drenched, cold and, despite the protection my (removed) overshoes had afforded, I had to hang my feet out of the bath in order that their temperature did not rise too quickly from minus seventeen to the toasty warmth of the water. I therefore narrowly avoided acquiring Ranulph Feinnes like chilblains.

Anyhow I should have learnt.

I set out this Sunday and the weather was just gorgeous, I was dressed appropriately. Planned to meet Ingrid and the kids at the cafe at Box Hill, have a cup of tea, ride back. 

Up Layhams Road, Beddlestead Lane, down Titsey Hill, along the A25 through Godstone and Reigate. Beautiful. Along the A25 a bit more, five mins from Dorking. It pisses down. Ride up to Box Hill (great but wet). Ingrid is delayed so I wait with 50 odd cyclists, (happy but soaked, eating cakes and drinking tea) under the canopy of the National Trust shop.

The guys turn up, the sun comes out, we go and look at the view, it's great. They go off in a warm car. I get on the bike, guess what? Rain, sleet, hail. Ipod irrationally turns to repeat so I listen to Scar Tissue five times in a row (four and a little bit times more than is necessary). Stop three times including once in Selhurst (surprise surprise) because, having taken my glasses off as I can't see properly, I find that the acid rain that falls in this part of London has rendered me temporarily blind - no doubt part of a conspiracy involving those who failed to get their hands on my bike/ipod/'phone last time.

I got home and, thankfully, the bath experience didn't involve the same toe chill problem.

Anyhow, if you have lasted through this blog this long (and assuming I have succeeded in 'posting' it), there is a moral (apart from the obvious 'get what you deserve' type thing):

That is that - despite it all - it was worth it. If any of you have either done the ride up to Box Hill or seen the view from the top, or both, then you will know why it is worth heading up the Pyrenees. As long as I can keep the taste of blood in my throat to just being a taste, then the view from the top of the Tourmalet will be a justification for the journey on its own. We all have good reasons for doing Biarritz to Barcelona, personal fulfillment is part of it and the money we will be raising for the Children's Trust is a fundamental goal. 

However, whatever we achieve it will give us a chance to understand that we are lucky enough just to have the opportunity to be there.  

I am planning my next ride to coincide with a swarm of locusts, please feel free to come along for it...

Jamie (Macca)