With the near drought conditions for the last six weeks or so there was little chance of it being a slop fest and being early in the year the underlying vegetation (nettles and brambles) wouldn't be so bad.
An advantage of being (ahem) more senior is that with a railcard you get 30% off rail fares so I booked a journey from Skipton down to Axminster, the nearest station to Lyme Regis. Unfortunately this also meant having to cross London.
Having packed ready for the off on Friday morning we were having tea on Thursday evening when I wondered what the dog was doing - it turned out he'd grabbed my sunglasses off the table and was contentedly chewing them to destruction. Great, no sunglasses on a ride on a bright white surface.
Ride down to the station, hop on the train to Leeds, across a couple of platforms to get the LNER service to London Kings Cross. A pleasant couple of hours relaxing at 120 MPH through the English countryside (my god there's a lot of flat) and then it's London. "You can't go on that underground line with a bike" Turns out you are only allowed on the older, shallower tube lines. Get the right one and trundle round to Westminster (note to everyone - the tube stinks), rather than figure out another journey to Waterloo it's actually easier to just ride the bike over Westminster bridge to the station, the main problem being tourists taking selfies with Big Ben in the background.
Then it's third train company of the day down to Axminster.
Rather than take the direct route to Lyme Regis I'd plotted a slightly more off-road version. Unfortunately I'd selected some footpaths. What the hell, I'd drive along them in my van so I cracked on. A total of 10km and I was on the sea front and at the start of the route. I didn't fancy hanging around - the place was full of tourists and it was 1700 so I'd about four hours of light left.
Getting out of LR was "fun" - my Garmin would bleep that I was off course and should turn round then moan that I still wasn't on the route. I visited most of LR before it decided that "yes, the road you took the first time was the right one and I was just having fun with you". There's a big climb to begin with but at least it's in the shade. The route is fairly easy to follow but I make one mistake in taking the wrong one of two parallel tracks, easy enough to correct.
There's a lot of up and down. I walk the occasional steep loose section - I'm touring not racing. The coast is in view for much of the evening but becoming more distant. As the light begins to fade I start to look for somewhere to kip. I've decided that this is a hammocking trip so woods are a requirement. I find one and after a bit of scouting around there are a few pairs of trees at the right distance apart. Check Google maps and there's a pub about a kilometre ahead so scoot along to that.
They stop serving food at 8:30pm and it's 8:35pm. A bit of being nice and the kitchen will do mine as the last meal. Very nice (and expensive) it was too. Back to the wood and it's now nearly dark.
It's at this point that I remember it's over a year since I actually used the hammock and I make the error of putting it up level. Consequently during the night I was slipping down to the foot end. Ho hum. By 5am it's getting light but I lie in until 6. I put a brew on and start packing away the hammock stuff. By the time the water's boiled I'm mostly packed and am just standing admiring the morning sun across the bluebells and flowering wild garlic when there's a commotion and two deer come bounding through the wood passing straight between two of the trees I'd been considering last night. A minute later they return, obviously having seen me standing there and coming back to check what was new. They look at me from maybe five metres away before realising that this new "thing" was a "human" and they bounded away out of the wood.
The initial riding of the first full day was very up and down: no sooner had you reached the crest of a hill than you were hurtling down into the next valley.
After about an hour I reached Cerne Abbas and its famous chalk figure and his massive willy. I took possibly the worst photo ever of the giant - directly into the morning sun. Supposedly if you sit on the top of his phallus you'll get pregnant. Frankly I couldn't be arsed to head up there to verify this so it was onto the next hill.
Several more hills, quite a few walked, and it was down to Blandford Forum. Quite why a place needs its own online discussion I'm not sure. Finally some easy riding along an old railway line and flat roads to Shaftsbury. I knew what was coming up: Gold Hill https://www.visit-dorset.com/listing/go ... 124444301/ often known as Hovis Hill due to the bread advert from Scott Ridley of Alien fame. Very much a trick of the eye, it's only about 150m long and gains 30m in altitude https://cyclinguphill.com/100-climbs/gold-hill/ - the lane up from our house is steeper. The surface is set stone and a bit uneven but it's not that hard though I was puffing a bit at the top with a few "Well done" comments from tourists.
Lunch beckoned. I'd done 65km with 1200m of climbing. One slight problem was that I was running out of juice on my phone and hadn't got the correct cable. Unfortunately no-one in the town sold them. Into power save mode then.
Pleasant lanes out of Shaftsbury continued eastward until: "It's going up that isn't it?". Yep. I got off and pushed in the afternoon sun. Once on top came the payback - nearly 20km of very gentle downward gradient on easy tracks. Just before I reached the road I bumped into Faustas from the forum (BB not Blandford) and chatted for a few minutes. Then down into Wilton and a restocking before a long steady climb up into Grovely Wood and an amazing 3km avenue of trees that happens to follow the course of an old Roman road.
Back down again - I know I lost all the height gain because I passed under the railway again - a nasty road crossing then a nice climb up onto Salisbury Plain and the approaches to Stonehenge.
At this point a couple of riders passed, in chatting it turned out they were local. I knew that the firing ranges were in use so asked about a decent pub on the diversion route. Recommendation received, it was into Larkhill and then a quiet main road to the pub.
The pizza was as good as suggested and the beers most welcome. Time to continue. I'd an idea that hammocking spots might be limited especially as I was heading back up onto the plain. The carb intake helped make the climb feel quite easy but as feared there was little woodland up here - what there was being mostly on military ground, definitely a no-no. As I was descending into the Vale of Pewsey I found a spot, a bit close to the track (like two metres away) but it would have to do.
This time no mistake with setting up the hammock, plenty of light left in the day, so foot end 40cm higher than the head end. Only problem was that the adjacent wood was the roosting spot for the local crows who chatted way into the fading light.
After a good night's sleep the crows started chatting again. I was packed up and away by 0630. Easy riding through the vale got me onto known ground as the next section is mostly common with the King Alfred's Way route. There's a big tarmac pull to get out of the valley then a long grassy descent to Avebury. This is one of the larger stone circles in the UK and being before 8am on a Sunday morning there were no tourists around. Unfortunately that meant the shop was also shut. Onwards it was then.
Once on the ridgeway it was quick going and there were already quite a few walkers and cyclists about. At Barbury Fort the route deviated from the KAW to be more "gravel friendly" - this was mostly downhill and easy going. The routes joined up again a couple of km short of White Horse Hill. Once up this I detoured to take yet another crap shot of an ancient monument.
The dry weather had baked the ground dry. Unfortunately that also meant that whatever had last left an imprint in the mud was now baked in. Horse hoof prints! Jeez it were rough! As the day went on I was being passed by unladen bikers, no worries, I'm just touring. By now it's getting hot - mid 20s plus the reflected heat off the white chalk. Hills came and went before the last climb of the section and a long descent to Goring on Thames and the chance for a cafe stop.
A cheeky request found that one of the kitchen staff had a charging cable that fitted my phone so a good excuse to linger, eating and drinking while the phone took on as much charge as possible. Even though it was now 1pm I ordered breakfast - well it looked good on the menu! It was good as well.
After filling up with water at the convenience store it was onward. A section winding alongside the river Thames lead to a main road crossing and an almost hidden "track" that turned out to be one of the best bits of riding yet. The bottom section was too steep and rooty to ride but once higher up it levelled out and was great riding along a tree lined bank top. Eventually it had to end of course and was replaced by a long climb where I resorted to more walking.
Rolling terrain ensued that felt mostly downhill. At the edge of one field I came across a Red Kite. Now that isn't unusual in itself since this area was one of the major reintroduction sites and you commonly see them in the skies scouting for scraps. This one however was on the ground and didn't seem particularly concerned at my presence. Not sure if it was injured or protecting some carrion or other food resource it had found.
The heat had got to me and I was struggling. The area was now much more populous and the route kept crossing roads. There were information boards, reading one I realised that the good bit of singletrack after Goring was the aforementioned Grim's Ditch - really should have taken a shot, oh well.
Sitting on a park bench I decided I'd had enough of the heat and found a B&B before getting the train home the following day.
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