This is my official BAM entry for March so ignore the previous hammock one. Mike (from Bromsgrove) has never seen the Island and has been threatening to come down for the last few years. He had a few days off and the forecast was good so he rode here to get the opportunity to ride some more
I met him from the ferry after work last Monday and we rode back to mine, in the rain, not the best star weather wise. The forecast was rain Tuesday morning and then clearing up, we waited until after lunch but it was still raining so decided to head out and hope it got better. To be fair we’d only been out for half an hour or so when it did stop. I had a loose plan to ride around the coast in an anti-clockwise direction which would hopefully deposit us at the ear-marked pub for dinner which itself was then only a short ride to a potential bivi spot.
We cut through the back lanes to Brading (now inland but used to be on the coast a long time ago) and then via the old railway to Seaview and down to St. Helens, stopping on the way to remove waterproofs at the entrance to the church where I noticed that I know people with just about all the surnames on the WW1 memorial, they’re all old Island names.
Once at the coast it mainly just a matter of keeping the sea on the right whist I pointed out the sights, the remains of Quarr Abbey, the new Abbey (which is usually built from brick) the church were one of Queen Victoria’s children is buried, the power station we never use. Once at East Cowes there’s a choice, ride up the river to Newport and back up the other side or get the chain ferry over. Anyone who knows the Island will know there’s at least a 30% chance the chain ferry is broken luckily there’s a replacement launch for pedestrians and cyclists.
Once across and in Cowes we could continue round on our journey. Using local knowledge to cut across town without riding in the pedestrian precinct and evoking the wrath of the locals we made our way to the shore again, past the Royal Yacht Squadron and on to Gurnard where the road kicks up at an unhealthy gradient only to drop back down to the coast straight afterwards. By the time we got to Porchfield and the TA Camp it was starting to get dark and close to dinner time. We skipped the loop out through Newtown to see the wonky town hall (also once the proposed site of a nuclear power station) and sped instead to the pub for dinner and a few pints.
Once suitable fed and warmed it was back out into what had now become quite a chilly night. I had recently learned of a bird hide but had never seen it so we decided to check that out with a woods nearby as a back-up. In the end the hide was suitable although a door and glazing in the windows would be nice. Speaking to a friend afterwards the door was removed to deter a tramp from living there. I did suggest that perhaps they could keep a door available for bikepackers to collect and use and return with say a deposit system?
Room for 2, just
Or 3 if one of you is particularly small
Mike had only brought a 150 quilt but we’d decided before we left mine that would not be anywhere near warm enough so I lent him a Pipedream 600 bag. This was the right decision as even in these bags and wearing our down jackets (matching ghost whisperers) neither of us overheated. There was a breeze blowing in all night thanks to the doorless nature. Forecast low was 6 deg but checking the overnight low showed just how cold it had been
There was quite the frost outside in the open and under the trees everywhere was wet. I’ve never stayed at a hide before but despite the lack of space and fresh breeze the fact I didn’t have a wet tarp to pack up was a definite bonus. We were away early before any dog walkers might arrive and into Yarmouth for coffee at PO41, highly recommended. Then on the Freshwater for breakfast. There was still a chill in the air as the sun hadn’t yet burnt off the chilly fog, but it makes for good pictures
Calling in at Fort Victoria on the way to Freshwater to check the cannons were still ready should the French or Spanish decide to send a fleet.
At the café we met the Mayor of Yarmouth, she works there but I did question the lack of Mayoral Chains, apparently they don’t wear them all the time
It was then the climb up to the Old Battery and rocket test site to see the Needles and check out the old control room for future bivis.
By now the sun was out and it was turning out to be a really nice day, if still a little fresh on the descents. Dropping down to Freshwater Bay it was then a headwind as we rode east along the Military Road, the subject of much concern locally as it’s now only feet way from the cliff at one point. I assume the cliff has fell away rather than the road move over to be closer.
We turned inland away from the coast at the Mottistone turning (Motistone church being where Benedict Cumberbatch got married) and headed for the café at Chessel Pottery. I don’t think Mike believed me when I said they had the largest selection of cake anywhere I’ve ever been but he soon did as we stood there trying to choose from maybe 30+. We sat in the garden with shoes off warming feet in the sun, luckily all the other customers were inside.
Refuelled we stayed on the inland road to Calbourne for some respite from the headwind but eventually turned again for the coast road. The climb up to Blackgang made all the tougher by the wind but once over the top and down to Niton we could drop to the shelter of the Underflcliif and also the quiet as the road was closed some years back part way along due to a land-slip. There have been several more in recent weeks in Ventnor, our next destination, and indeed we wouldn’t be able to continue round to Shanklin as the main road out of Ventnor has been closed due to a major landslip right next to it. When we reached Upper Ventnor we could have ridden up to the top of the downs for the view… but opted instead to sit outside the Central (our Spar equivalent) and drink milkshake.
As we couldn’t continue round the coast, and by now we were also getting weary, we followed the round the Island cycle route inland and back to mine. By the time we got home we’d covered 78 miles with 5700 feet of climbing, not forgetting that Mike already had 160 miles in the legs from riding down the 2 days before. Most of the coast was seen though.
We headed out the next day to tag the missing section. This was another 25 miles and nearly 2000 feet of climbing. People think the Island is flat but we weren’t even going over any of the hills, just around the coast.
3/12 for the year and 49 months in a row.