The Agreeable World of the Addiscombe Cycling Club  
Home | About Us | Off Road | Road Race | Time Trial | Features | Contacts | Join | Links

 

Special

 

FAQ

 

Tales Trails

 
Tandem  
TV Programme  
Webcam  
Archives  
David Duffield  
   
Off Road


Tales From the Trails

What happened? It was Sunday, loads of people turned up with the prospect of a long ride and the weather stayed good all day! After the torrential downpours and force ten gales of recent weekends this just didn't feel right, as if we'd been somehow cheated of the full Addiscombe off road experience. And on top of all that the trails were (relatively) dry, lulling everyone into a false sense of security whilst cornering. The answer may just be the appearance of a rarely sighted cycling legend called Marco (or the trail pixie, as he is oft referred to as in remote Surrey villages), who made his first appearance on an off road ride in a good few months (not counting his 3 miles back from Forestdale last week of course, but that doesn't count). As legend dictated would happen, he turned up 20 minutes after the meeting time and proceeded to fettle his bike and talk for ages to all and sundry; many of whom did not believe our fanciful tales of this elusive mountain biker with a passion for all things lycra (including a lime green balaclava to scare children and old people with).

So, once the shock of seeing our old trail buddy back out had passed, we had a count of how many people were out and once again were shocked to see it was fifteen people, meaning that we've had consistently large groups every week now for the last four weeks. Our plan for yesterday was initially to ride out to Reedham, up onto the North Downs Way and continue through to Boxhill, Ranmore Common and Leith Hill before retracing our steps but this was changed to allow people who didn't want to do the full ride the chance to cut off early. With this in mind, we set off up through Shirley and somehow managed to lose one of our group before reaching the top. No need to worry though, as Spencer had his GPS attached to his handlebars and using the three satellites orbiting hundreds of miles above, he managed to navigate his way around the massif's maze of trails and find Mark, before once again trigging his position and relocating us!! ;-) From here, we used a newly found downhill track before climbing up then dropping through Pinewoods  into Foxes where we had the first mechanical of the day, a snapped chain. With that fixed, it was on to the singletrack and then through Spring  before following the technical trail back through to Addington.

We decided that the best way to get out towards the North Downs Way was to use fast trails to get through to Warlingham and as such, we decided to go up Rachael's Downhill which for one day only was renamed as Rachael's Uphill (for obvious reasons). Now most of you who've been out with us and ridden Rachael's Downhill will know that we always stop at the top and warn people of the dangers that lie ahead; riding up it I didn't think that we'd need to. That was until James got there. Somehow, he managed to get five feet along the trail and then fall off at about 1mph into a tree, unceremoniously tangling himself up in both the bike and the tree like a Chinese puzzle. Once we'd got him out and stopped laughing, we carried on to the top and had a rest, whilst Brian and Mark tucked into a feast that Lisa Riley would baulk at. After they'd had their Waffer thin mints, we pressed on through to Warlingham and down the Route 21 bridleway through a posh golf course, where Marco scared the life out of some old, overweight golfer by skidding past him to reclaim the trails from these stick wielding weirdo's whose idea of a good day out is knocking a ball around a field (I'm sure they have some choice words to say about people who ride bicycles through mud for miles upon end as well). At the bottom, we turned and headed up the metalled road through Caterham Convent School. About half way along the group split into two; those who wanted to return and those who wanted to press on for the Holy Grail, the caff at the top of Reigate Hill. We said our goodbyes and continued up onto the North Downs Way to follow it westwards.

After about a mile, there is a descent on a wide doubletrack trail which is pretty easy going and well surfaced; that is, apart from the metal barrier which was laying across the trail and managed to catch James out - he didn't see it and rode straight over it, giving him two pinch punctures. To save time, we decided to split up, with one group pressing on and the other waiting with James and catching the rest up further along the trail. Martin S, your crown as the slowest puncture repairer in the club has been taken from you as James took an absolute age to fix the back one; so long in fact that Pete fixed his front one for him before it went dark and the Gypsies got us. We pressed on at top speed (apart from James who didn't manage to fix his back flat correctly, despite using a fresh tube) and managed to catch the others about five miles don the trail. We decided to have another quick rest before dropping under the M23 and riding up to Reigate Hill Caff and James decided that this would be a good time to eat his Soreen Malt Loaf that he'd stashed in his bag. Now this was a sight to behold, as he crammed half the loaf in his mouth at once and chewed the whole thing without managing to drop one crumb - impressive or what. Maybe he was imagining that it was one of Tony's fabled Sugar Licks!!!

The descent under the A23 drops down the middle of a farmers field, through a wooded singletrack section and then another field before passing under the concrete eyesore that is the motorway. In summer, this descent can be a nasty one as the surface is riddled with bumps, hoof marks and tractor tracks but in winter, when slippy mud is added to the equation, it is extremely rough and takes it's toll on your arms, legs and sensibilities. The bridge at the bottom of the descent gave us all chance to clear our lungs, and I'm sure that the cries of the newly adopted Addiscombe catchphrase 'Cuckoo' could be heard as far off as the clubhouse. From here, we had a choice of taking the road climb up to the cafe or the off road route. After a debate which lasted all of two seconds, we plumped for the off road climb and pressed on up the hill. By now, energy levels were getting seriously depleted and the cafe at the summit was looking more and more tempting whilst at the same time seeming further and further away. We struggled up the slippy slope and eventually saw our nirvana, the cafe. Food has never tasted as good, ever. We all filled our faces to bursting point and settled down for a hard earned rest. At this point, a biker shot past the cafe on a bike that I was sure I recognised and sure enough, it was Pete Jackson who'd chosen to go out with Alice (his other half) rather than join us!! After we'd given him a bit of stick for driving there rather than take the 25 mile off road route from Croydon with us, we let him go and turned our attentions instead to twelve stone Tony and his sugar licks (you probably had to be there).

Suitably fed, we set off back down the hill which had troubled us on the way up and found that it was indeed incredibly slippy as one after the other of us slid sideways out of control down the hill, although luckily (apart from for him) there was only one crash - Mark, although luckily he wasn't injured. We pressed on to Mersham and at this point, Mark and Pete decided to ride back to Croydon on the A23 whilst the rest of us pressed on to finish the off road ride. We climbed back up the trail which we'd descended on earlier (the one which passes under the M23) and turned north at the top to head for Happy Valley and a reversal of the ride we did the weekend before. Once out of the top and into Coulsdon Old Town (or whatever it's called), Joe had a run-in with a parked car but managed to miss it by slamming his brakes on and going over the bars instead!! After we'd (once again) stopped laughing, we got onto the last off road section of the day and followed it through to Reedham before picking up the A23 and blasting back to Croydon to finish where we'd started (the station); 39.1 miles under our belts and a large number of laughs to our tally.

 

Jason.