To Vauxhall via the repairs shop...

Enthusiastically set off this morning to meet Clare in Vauxhall for lunch (I'm not at work this week, should anyone be wondering why I have so much time for cycling, lunching, and blogging all of a sudden), when I soon noticed that Rocky (new bike; Rockhopper penguin, Rocky for short) was making a very strange noise. Having got so used to Violet and her embarrassingly loud clankings, I initially didn't think much of it but stopped to check out the problem and realised that the back tyre was as flat as the proverbial pancake.

Irritated that this couldn't have waited until May when I might know how to fix it as we're doing a cycle maintenance course, I wheeled poor Rocky to the local bike shop and felt slightly shameful for letting down feminists all over the world as I lent evidence to the stereotype of pathetic-girl-who-does-not-know-how-to-use-tools. 90 seconds later with my wallet £10.50 lighter (that's about 12p a second) I emerged with Rocky back in tip-top condition. On to Vauxhall and my first trip into Central London. Arrived completely drenched as it had started bucketing down just for fun (Clare: "At least you've had some practice of cycling in the rain!". Easy for you to say whilst cosy and dry). Had tasty but rather shivery lunch, and back home with borrowed Big Issue hoody topped off with yards of enormous yellow Big Issue anorak. Arrive home damp yet overheated, having recreated tropical rainforest conditions between my skin and plastic anorak.

Lunch in Ewell and a couple of near misses

Cycled down to Ewell yesterday to meet my friend Tania for lunch, about 15 miles each way. On the way I got lost in Wandsworth again (am I missing a trick here?), though fortunately had a map this time. The return journey was pretty speedy, though 1) someone almost opened their car door on me - must cycle further away from parked cars in future - and 2) I experienced my first episode of cycle rage as a black cab pulled out directly in front of me while I was travelling about 20mph (That's right, 20mph. On the flat). I slammed on the brakes and dodged between the cab and the car behind, and wondered whether the driver of the car behind could lip-read as I directed profanities at the cab... On the plus side, I didn't get lost in Wandsworth.

Saturday 19th March – London to Surrey & West Sussex

So. The big day. Hammersmith to Plaistow (West Sussex) for me, and Clapham to Wonersh (Surrey) for Clare. Fortunately, it was a beautiful sunny day, and we decided to meet at Tooting Bec station before heading onto the A24 towards Dorking. I dispensed with my A to Z in favour of a lighter bag (“Oh it’s just a straight line after Wandsworth Bridge”), so quickly the start of my trip went rather wrong as I attempted to navigate the very confusing set of cycle lanes at Wandsworth Bridge Roundabout, and discovered that it’s not just straight on after the bridge because that’s a duel carriageway that I’m probably not allowed to cycle on even if I wanted to (I don’t). I somehow end up near the common, at a dead-end. With the help of a friendly passer-by and a phone call to Clare I arrive in Tooting, exhausted already. We finally get going, and head off on one of Boris’ bright blue cycle superhighways, which at first I’m excited about, and then wonder what the point of them is if London transport are also going to mark out parking spaces in them so you spend most of your time having to pull out into traffic anyway. We got to Ewell, and then discovered that the A24 turns into another scary duel carriageway (see previous comment…) and so we stood at the door of the handy BP garage, me guarding the bikes, and Clare finding us maps to consult to find an alternative route (No. We didn’t bring a map with us. I realise this was a bit silly.)

As we get to the outskirts of Guildford I’m beginning to flag. It’s not the up and down type hills that get me, it’s the relentless not-very-steep-but-stretching-into-the-distance hills that I don’t seem to have the patience for yet. There are one or 2 big ones, and on one Clare and I have to stop twice for breaks. It’s amazing how much of a different 30 seconds of rest makes… It was worth it just to come down from the very top of Guildford High Street (which makes me realise quite how much we’ve been climbing for the past however long) with the sun blazing down on us.

To Wonersh, the end of Clare’s journey and mile 35-ish. She offered me a lift back to my house but for the sake of completeness I have to push on and do the final stretch. We stopped for a final cup of tea and (lots of) chocolate cake (Clare’s aunt: “Goodness you have to get all the way to Plaistow now? That must be another 10 or 15 miles!”, Me: *grimace*, Clare’s aunt: “Better have some more cake…”). I head out the gravel drive, see Clare’s mum who’s just arriving by car and has stopped for me to turn out onto the road, with a huge queue of watching traffic behind her, attempt to wave, overbalance, manage a huge and noisy skid across the gravel, and with a yelp I’m off on my lone journey home. The hills for the most-part aren’t as bad as I’d expected, though on a particularly tough one only about a mile from home I slow down so much I simply grind to a halt. Onwards to home, and about 46 miles for the day.

We made it, and to be honest I wasn't sure we ever would, though it really put it into perspective when we thought about the fact that Albury, a village very near Wonersh, is the first stop, that's right, the first stop, of the first day of London to Paris. A mileage that's just taken us the best part of the afternoon and a lot of pain and much-needed breaks to complete. We're very proud of ourselves, but, there's a long way to go yet...

Bicycle buying

By now my search for a bicycle has become somewhat desperate. I’m becoming more and more anxious about the days and weeks ticking by with only Violet to train on. Sure, I’ve been cycling in the gym but it’s nothing compared to being on a road, learning where I’m supposed to be in the traffic, dodging potholes and pedestrians etc etc. There are so many bikes to choose from, and given that I’ve got a long way to go on it I’d like to know that it’s the right choice…

Eventually Clare booked in a date to cycle down to her mum’s in Surrey and I decided I must just find a bike, buy it, and go with her. By Monday 7^th March, I’d chosen the bike and to cut a long story short, spent the next 2 weeks almost solely on the phone to the shop trying to buy it, finding out about dwindling stock levels and mis-orderings. By now, I’m extremely grumpy and exasperated; insist to the poor guy that I’d spoken to about a hundred times that week that I need a bike by Saturday, which is now 2 days away. I think he may have feared for his life a little, and he somehow managed to produce the right bike the day before our big trip. Phew. I headed home on it in rush hour hoping that getting used to riding one’s new bike isn’t necessary before cycling nearly 50 miles on it...

Saturday 19th February, Richmond Park

Several weeks before, I had planned to go to Richmond Park, but then ill-advisedly looked up the ‘hills profile’ of the park on their website and thought better of it. We decided to tackle it on this particular weekend though, and Clare had sensibly lined up a restorative cup of tea at her friend Binny’s house for afterwards. Judging by the frightening sounds the gears were making on my almost completely flat trip around hyde park the previous month, I decided that Violet would not be up to the job and instead she stayed at home with her feet/wheels up. Binny kindly lent me her hybrid, and apart from the fact that I could barely touch the ground (“Could we move the saddle down a touch?” “Er, no. That’s as far down as it goes, and regardless of the potential for falling off at traffic lights you’ll get much better power this way”), it was an amazing improvement on Violet. In actual fact, I realise that I have had the saddle far too low on Violet, and my poor legs needn’t have been doing so much work all this time. We had heard that Binny’s husband had made doubtful noises about us getting around the park loop in an hour, so we of course set off determined to prove him wrong. Binny waved us off with promises of tea and muffins when we returned.

It was one of the most miserably drizzly grey days of the year so far, though I soon decided that this was in our favour as it meant that there was a minimum of lycra-clad men (or indeed women, but for some reason I’ve not seen many) around to overtake us. We had attempted to work out which way around the park would give us more downs and less ups, though in the end we decided we ought to drop this idea and just get on with it. We sped off to the start of the 7.5 mile road loop and admired the scenery (damp and mostly obscured by mist) and its occupants (rugby players and deer, the only things as silly as we were for being out on such a day). We were plugging along quite nicely until we rounded a bend and hit one of our first hills. Clare and I exchanged pathetic cries of "my legs hurt" and I made it up to about halfway before deciding any more pain would just not be fair. I stop and get off, and turn around to see Clare pushing her bike behind me – I was secretly relieved that she was finding it as difficult as I was – and it was of course at this very moment that the first lycra-covered men that we’d seen that day decide to fly past, one of them chuckling and telling us "you’re not supposed to push!". Thanks for that. I got back on the bike and soon found out that starting from stationary on an enormous hill is probably a lot worse than just continuing to pedal through the pain in the first place.

Giant hill accomplished, we decided to stop for a well-earned break and a look at the map to see how much of this misery we had to go. Having realised that we had no idea which entrance we had started at, we decided we’d either cycled about 2/3 of the park, or just a tiny portion. It’s at this point that Clare is about ready to down tools and leave if we have another 6 miles of hills to cycle. We concluded that we’d done 2/3 but were astonished that we’d made it this far already – sure enough we were soon back to the deer and the rugby players and heading out of the park in a mere 50 minutes. Ha! Home to Binny’s for delicious blueberry muffins. Poor Clare then has to cycle all the way back to Clapham, while I happily hand the bike back and hop on a bus home…

We need your help!

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A few examples of where your money will go...

*£5* will pay for a Big Issue vendor's travel to a vital hospital appointment, job interview, housing office meeting.

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Please click here to sponsor us!

Thank you very much - your sponsorship will make a big difference, both to our morale as we slog away at our training, and to the lives of the Big Issue vendors that we're doing this for.

Kate x

29th & 30th January 2011

It's been a while since I've posted on here, and as I'm back-dating a couple of entries I'm surprised and impressed at how far we've already come.

So. Saturday 29th January

With Clare away that weekend I decided I must overcome my anxiety and force myself to go for a cycle without her. In fact I spend so long avoiding the ride by looking up routes and making sure I have everything ready that by the time I leave I realise I've got less than an hour left before it gets dark (Violet does not have any lights). I ended up going into Fulham (total 3 minutes cycle), having a pint with the lovely Anna and scooting home again with the sunset behind me.

Sunday 30th January

A more successful venture. I learnt from the previous day's lesson, quickly chose a route with the maximum amount of park cycling, minimum of scary road cycling, and got going in the unseasonably glorious sunshine. I headed along the Old Brompton Road, managed to pull over for a fire engine without getting squished, and took a left up to Hyde Park. Feeling like a proper cyclist I then used the cycle (and horse) crossing to get over to the Wellington Arch and down Constitution Hill, which is closed to traffic on Sundays, and on to Buckingham Palace. By now Violet is alarming nearby tourists by making extremely loud and worrying noises whenever I slow down. I think she may be on the way out... We make it home though and work out we've cycled about 11 miles. It's an improvement from last week, though I'm dismissing the fact that it took me an inordinate 90 minutes to cycle because naturally I stopped a lot to take these photos.... Ahem....