Up hill to Downe

The clock is ticking and panic is starting to set in. So much so that we’ve blocked out every Wednesday night until the end of July and dedicated them to cycling the spitefully hilly parts of London. I think we’ve cracked it on stamina (I’ll regret saying that) but the hills are still proving a real (screaming) pain in the legs. And so Darius courageously agreed to take us out this week and, true to his word, showed us a route he has ridden with the Dulwich Paragon cycling group, which he goes out with from time to time.

7pm on a Wednesday evening and off the three of us set off, loaded to the gunnels with hastily ingested pasta (carb loading is an excellent incentive).

We set off strong through Herne Hill only to slow dramatically as we pressed on up the gradual yet significant incline to Crystal Palace. It is here that my awareness of our whereabouts ended, for within 10 minutes we were surrounded by thick countryside. Rolling hills covered in fields of wheat, single track country lanes with hardly a car passing us the entire trip. For Heaven’s sake we even had deer bounding in front of us. Now Darius had mentioned this countryside route before, but being a man born and bred in London, I had quickly dismissed it and taken him to mistake countryside for tree-lined, hanging-basketed suburbia. So I’ll say it;  Darius, I was wrong; and you were right.

A really beautiful evening to boot. Scarlet sunset to match our puce faces. Hills we asked for and hills we got. It was perhaps the shortest but deadliest perpetrating hill on which Kate had issues with her gears. Such was the incline; we came to a sharp halt as soon as we stopped pedalling. Luckily the problem was easily remedied, however a stab at a standing start was not entertained by this hill and it was necessary for Kate to cycle back down the hill and indeed a little way back up the one opposite in order to get up sufficient steam. By the time I exhaust each and every gear until I am crawling, slower than walking pace, to the slow approaching, much resisting summit - I am literally rasping with exhaustion. But the wonderful thing about hills is the (usual) long, flying, downhill payoff - and of these we are most appreciative. We sailed through some very picturesque villages, namely Downe of Charles Darwin fame.

Darius counted us down through the hills we had left to tackle, until those pleasing words ‘it’s flat all the way home’ came. Except that his memory didn’t serve him quite right and just as we were celebrating our very last leg and looking forward to a cup of tea, the worse of them all; Annerley Hill, loomed. A less jovial atmosphere saw us home safe and sound and very pleased not to have given up, got off and pushed.

35 miles in 3 hours aint bad after work on a Wednesday. Thanks Darius! You’re a marvellous guide.

You can find a link to our route here.