Spring is here....

The lake at the top of Slines Oak Road near Knights Garden Centre

Andy went out on Sunday alone and did a loop that took in The Ridge, Botley Hill and then the Green – a kind of reverse version of my ride on Saturday morning. Here's a shot he took of the lake just beyond Knight's Garden Centre.

To Botley Hill...

Yours truly at the junction of The Ridge and the 269, April 20th 2013.

A beautiful day of shimmering early morning mists and a light, withering frost contrasted with blue skies and sunshine. The good weather, it seems, is here at last and I'm powering my way towards the Green when I hear my phone vibrating in my left breast pocket. It's earlier than usual as Andy and I have agreed to meet at 7am and not our usual 7.30am. But the call is from Andy. He can't open his garage door and is running late. Not a problem, I told him, as I approached Hamsey. Moments later he calls again: it's not going to work. Sadly, I won't be cycling tomorrow so we'll be meeting again next weekend.

I decided to push on towards Botley Hill and once past Knight's Garden Centre, where the daffodils were in full bloom, I settled into a very pleasant ride. When there were no cars on the road, the only sound was the birds, which made it even better. Here and there I spotted clumps of daffodils on the banks and there were rays of sunlight filtering through the trees. The blossoms were out too.

The Kona at The Ridge around 0745hrs, 20 April 2013.

I reached Botley, turned at the roundabout and then stopped at The Ridge to take the photographs accompanying this post. It was then simply a case of riding home. The weather was fantastic as I made my way back along the 269 and into Warlingham, past the Green and on towards Sanderstead. I'd left Botley around 7.46am and it was 8.20am by the church clock when I reached the Gruffy and sailed down Church Way.

If the weather holds out for tomorrow it'll be a good ride for Andy if he decides to go it alone.

The Lake of Tranquility...

Longford Lake around 9am, Sunday 7th April 2013 – absolutely wonderful.

Up at 6am and ready to rock. My alarm went off, I pressed the snooze button and at 0610hrs I was out of bed and downstairs making tea ready for the ride. I'd forgotten that, the night before, I'd set my alarm and then switched the phone off. As everybody knows, mobile phone alarms still activate even if the phone is switched off and sure enough, mine was no exception.

Enjoying a much-needed cup of tea.

It was odd for Andy not to be at the Green, but these things happen and sometimes I have to wait around before he arrives (he's normally waiting for me). Today, there were two cyclists standing roughly where I meet Andy; it was the two guys we occasionally meet and they're both a bit 'gung ho', despite being a little paunchy. One made reference to his weight and I suggested he cycled more – he laughed in agreement, but where, I wondered, was Andy?

And then I remembered that my phone was off, so I switched it on and, lo and behold, a message. Andy wasn't feeling too good. He had a headache that he couldn't shake off and was aborting the ride. I wasn't sure when the message had arrived – the night before or earlier this morning – but I had to avoid a situation where the other guys discovered that Andy wasn't coming and invited me to join them for some gung ho! cycling.

A frame through the frame

"See you later," I said as a third rider arrived. "My mate's meeting me further up the road," I lied and rode off in the direction of Botley Hill. Where should I go? Westerham was the plan as I settled in to the ride. The weather was amazing. Despite a frost on the roof tops of most cars, I just knew that if I swiped any of the windscreens with my hand they wouldn't be solid ice. The skies were blue and while there was a slight breeze, it wasn't cold. A perfect day, I thought, as I reached the pub that was recently converted into a coffee shop next door to Warlingham Sainsbury's. I started to sing U2's Beautiful Day to myself as I rode towards Knight's Garden Centre – the last piece of civilisation until Botley Hill, past the pond at the top of Sline's Oak Road that was still covered with a film of ice.

I was feeling good and cycling came easy to me, even the incline on the 269, which ends at the lonely bus stop and the road and the scenery opens up a bit. It's always at this point that I feel glad to be out on the bike. When I'd received Andy's text back at the green, there was a temptation to cycle up to Warlingham Sainsbury's and then simply return home, but no, Westerham was on the cards and I started to look forward to my tea, but, sadly, no cereal bar.

The trees are still bare...

I reached Botley fairly effortlessly and turned east towards the Tatsfield Bus Stop. It was tempting to stop, but no, Westerham was on the cards...until I started thinking about Chevening Church. I hadn't gone cycling on Saturday because we had the builders in for the day and I was needed around the house – but I also had a headache – possibly thanks to a bottle of Budweiser Budvar Dark – although not bad enough to abort. There were two reasons why I didn't ride out yesterday: one was the builder and two was the fact that it was my wife's birthday. I figured the best way to keep her happy on her special day was not to go cycling so I aborted and spent the morning moving heavy appliances around the kitchen floor and running errands, like a trip to a builder's merchant to buy rawplugs and screws, and another trip to Ikea to buy a doormat followed by a visit to a huge Sainsbury's to buy a few bread rolls. The Sainsbury's in question turned out to be a huge one with two floors on the Purley Way, not a million miles from Ikea.

So, with memories of yesterday's exertions still fresh in my mind,  I headed along Clarks Lane towards Westerham thinking that I deserved to stay out longer than normal and get a good ride in. Why not head towards Chevening Church along Pilgrim's Lane? It seemed like a great plan so, instead of riding the length of the downward stretch towards Westerham – which can be cold when the wind hits home – I branched left and continued east along Pilgrim's Lane. I hadn't been this way for a long time, the last time being in either 2011 or, at best, 2012 when Andy and I rode out early and sat in the churchyard doing what we do best – sipping tea and munching cereal bars. Click here for details.

Pilgrim's Lane was peaceful. While the hedgerows were still bare and the fields newly ploughed, it was glorious to be out there with emptiness on either side of the road, the occasional Lycra monkey riding the other way. At points I was totally alone with seemingly nobody around for miles and empty fields to the left and right. I reached Sundridge Lane and turned right, following the road down towards the M25 and then veering left and riding parallel to what Chris Rea once referred to as 'the road to hell'.

I stopped here for a much-needed pee. 

For some reason I was thinking about William Hague and Nick Clegg and then I remembered why. Chevening House, next door to the church, is a huge mansion they both use as a weekend retreat. I tried to imagine what I might say to Nick Clegg if I met him; it revolved around berating him for student fees and advocating some kind of social uprising to overthrow the Government. I had visions of Clegg and I riding together with him having to listen to me going on and on about how I think that he and the coalition are doing a very bad job; and then I'd change tack and think about my family and what was in store for the rest of the day.

As I rode towards the Chevening Church turn-off I decided to head instead for Longford Lake in Chipstead Village. I turned right, not left and rode over the motorway towards the village and the lake. When I reached the lakeside, the tranquillity hit me; it was wonderful. The most amazing thing was the solitude. There was nobody around, the trees were bare, the lake was so still it could have been a huge mirror and all that could be heard was the chirping of the birds in the trees and bushes.

I parked the Kona against a tree and sat on one of the benches that looked out on to the lake. It was time for tea and relaxation and I begun to wish I'd bought my book, Rob Lilwall's Cycling Home from Siberia, an amazing book about his journey from Siberia to England via Japan, Korea, China, Hong Kong Indonesia, Australia and many other places, like Iran and Afghanistan. But I hadn't brought it with me and besides, with such solitude, such peace and quiet and such views, who needed a book?

After three cups of tea I was in need of a pee, but there was nowhere to go as now there were dog walkers coming from all directions. I'd have to wait. I sat on the bench for half an hour and reluctantly headed for home at 0935hrs. I was still in the right frame of mind for cycling and realised that I could have cycled all day if I had to, which got me thinking about riding John O' Groats to Lands End or Land's End to John O' Groats – what Mike Carter in his book One Man & His Bike calls Jogle and LeJog. I rode along the Chevening Road, back over the motorway and then turned left towards Sundridge, turning right further along the road and heading for Pilgrim's Lane instead of riding back over the motorway and into Sundridge.

I was somewhere on this map, but don't ask me where.

The road back was peaceful, apart from the odd bunch of Lycra monkeys, but I forgot how long it was between the turn-off and Pilgrim's Lane.

There were two horses in front of me when I reached Pilgrim's Lane and I had to overtake them, but all was well. I'm always wary of horses as I never know how they're going to react to my bike, but these two seemed fine and all I could hear after passing them was the clippety clop of their hooves, which seemed to get quieter and quieter the more I pedalled away from them – quite understandable really as I was getting further away from them – but they must have gone a different way as they never caught up with me. At one stage I had a strange thought: that if I turned around there wouldn't be horses, but a solitary man with a couple of coconut shells making the clipetty clop noises on the tarmac.

I found a place for a wee and, suitably relieved, carried on cycling along Pilgrim's Lane until I reached the hill that would take me to the top of Clarks Lane and the Surrey Hills totem pole that indicates the end of the hill – exactly an hour after leaving Longford Lake. This, I figured, was going to be a long one. I estimated arriving home at around 1100hrs, but it was 1125hrs when I eventually rolled up.

The 269 was relatively peaceful and I rode triumphantly into Warlingham, circling the Green and heading towards Hamsey and then Sanderstead.  What a great ride, I thought, as I reached the Gruffy and Sanderstead Pond, which earlier had a thin film of ice covering its surface. I sailed down Church Lane, wove my way down Elmfield Way, turning left into Southcote, right onto Ellenbridge, then another right on Barnfield and home. Time to mow the lawn, but not before two ham rolls, a hot cross bun and a mug of tea.

You know when you get that lovely tired feeling when you're eyes feel heavy and you could just drift off to sleep anywhere? After mowing the lawn and drinking another bottle of Budvar Dark – I had two of them – that was how I was feeling. Wonderful.

Shadowlands

Warlingham Green, Easter Sunday just before 8am.

Tatsfield Churchyard, Easter Sunday, around 9am.

Easter Sunday – to the Tatsfield Churchyard (16 miles)

Looking out on to a frosty lawn is deceptive: the immediate thought is of the cold, but stepping outside and noting the clear blue skies and the sunshine warms things up a little. In fact, it was good cycling weather, the sort of conditions that make you think you can cycle forever and, for some reason, I thought about riding to Broadstairs. I vowed to myself that if ever the occasion arose when I had a day to myself, I'd set out alone or with Andy to reach the place where Bleak House is located and where the novel by Bruce Robinson, The Peculiar Memoirs of Thomas Penman, is set.

For now, though, my chief aim was to reach Warlingham Green – and later than usual. Lying in bed at 6am, I heard a strange ringing sound. After a while I realised that it was my mobile phone. Normally, it's on 'silent' but I'd switched it a few days ago and changed the 'message alert' tone, hence the strange ringing. It was Andy hoping that I'd remembered to put my clocks forward. Oops. I called him and arranged to meet just as soon as I'd consumed a cup of tea.

The lake at the top of Slines Oak Road, Sunday 31 March 2013.
Photo by Andy Smith

We headed off for the Tatsfield Churchyard, meaning that, in total this weekend, we'd riden 58 miles and there was still Easter Monday to go. There was frost on the ground at Warlingham Green as we set off, but the weather was good. En route we stopped off at a small frozen lake where Andy took the shot on the right.

The churchyard was shrouded in frost and was not only rather picturesque but also incredibly peaceful. Not a sound except for the chirping of birds in the trees and then human intervention in the shape of people connected with the church; first a young girl, then a slightly older couple and then the vicar, all of whom had things to do in the church hall, a flint building where, in the afternoon, tea and cakes are served to anybody who's passing by. A couple of years ago I remember enjoying the delights of the place myself, but right now, I had my own tea (and a cereal bar) to enjoy.

We spent roughly 30 minutes standing in the churchyard drinking tea and munching those cereal bars before heading for home. Andy branched off halfway along the 269 and I carried on towards Sanderstead, the skies still blue and the sun still shining. In weather such as this, the key is to keep moving to keep warm.

We were last at the Tatsfield Churchyard on 16 December 2012.

Hilly ride to Merstham and the early proximity to Andy's house

This map, captured on Andy's iPhone shows how Andy found himself doubling back towards where he started on today's hilly ride to Merstham.

The reason I'd worked out the route was, as I said earlier, to see if it was possible to reach Redhill using only the quiet suburban roads and not the A23. However, the hills involved on roads such as Higher Drive and Rutherford Rise, to name but two, made the A23 the best option. I quickly reached the conclusion that cycling to work is not worth the effort. Not only would I have to use the awful, traffic-laden A23, but when I reached my destination I'd need to head to the leisure centre for a shower then take the bike to the office...yawn, yawn, yawn!!!

While it was hilly and, at times, unbearable, it at least made it clear that I won't be cycling to work (I needed to know). It's also made me think hard about any ambitions I might have harboured about cycling around the coast of the UK or, as I dreamed up yesterday, cycling down from Inverness and stopping off at assorted breweries en route. The book would have been called Beer, Bike and Bed, but not only would I never have the time to do it, I'd have family pressure to stop me doing it and even if I was given the green light by both friends and family, I'm not sure if the hills would do me much good. As I mentioned in previous posts, my right knee started playing up, probably a result of those hills around Purley. I was never in pain, just a little stiff and a bit achy and all is well now, but the very idea of being a long way from home, knackered, facing steep hills and strange bed & breakfasts and not seeing my family for days on end – I'll leave it Mike Carter and Rob Lilwall. I suppose I could do it in stages...

Now that's a big breakfast!

I could have done without the chips and beans, but still finished the lot.

The Quality Café certainly lives up to it's name. Here's my breakfast, much needed, but thinking seriously about it, I could have done without the beans and the chips. Having such a hearty breakfast stiffened my resolve to cycle home rather than catch the train.

Easter weekend cycling – hilly route to Merstham (never again)...

I'd worked out a route looking at a street map. The sole aim was to find a route to Redhill from Sanderstead that avoided the A23. But street maps don't say anything about hills and there were plenty. So many, in fact, on the early, suburban part of the ride, that, before reaching a place in Coulsdon called Farthing Common, a kind of deserted plateau rising above deep valleys on either side, we were already knackered.

My sentiments exactly...

Andy was knackered and pissed off because he'd riden all the way from Caterham to meet me outside the main entrance to Purley Station only to discover that the route he was about to embark upon took him back to within five or ten minutes' ride from his house.

But let's get back to those hills. The road names should have given them away: Foxley Hill, just off the A22 Godstone Road, then Higher Drive, Hartley Hill and Rutherford Rise. 'Hill' and 'Rise' and 'Higher' should have sparked off warning signals, but they hadn't and by the time we reached Farthing Common, well, we both felt as if we'd over-exerted things a little bit. From there it was fairly straightforward: the Farthing Down bit became Ditches Lane then Church Lane followed by Hilltop Lane and then, as if by magic, we found ourselves at Rockshaw Lane, the road that leads down to Merstham. My plan had been to continue down Hilltop Lane which would have become Warwick Wold Road and then turn right after crossing over the M25 on to the Bletchingly Road and then up School Hill into the centre of Merstham – but we decided to take the road we trusted and within 10 or 15 minutes were standing outside Hunger's End – which was closed.

We wandered down to the Quality Café, which, everytime I pass it is normally closed and shuttered. Not today. It was open so in we went. Andy ordered a bacon roll and tea and I chose an omelette, chips and beans. We both had a couple of mugs of tea and sat there reading the Sun and the Daily Star, marvelling at how fit that model, Elle MacPherson, once known as 'the body' was looking aged 50. She's had kids too, but wow, is she fit.

Andy with bacon roll in Merstham's Quality Café

We were, it had to be said, tired and those earlier hills had played havoc with my general state of well-being. I was fine, but had I been able to sit in the Quality Café all day, I would have done so; but I had to get home and I seriously considered the train. However, all that stodgy food needed to be burned off so I resolved to cycle home along the very busy A23. Andy branched off at Shepherd's Hill.

I was knackered by the time I reached home and my right knee was giving me some pain too, nothing major, and once I'd rested a bit I was fine.

We're going to cycle to Tatsfield Churchyard tomorrow – a nice short one.

Easter weekend cycling – Westerham (22 miles)

Not a bad day, but a bit on the chilly side as I set off for the Green to meet Andy. We'd decided upon Westerham as our final destination and, en route, discussed The Psychopath Test, which I'd lent to Andy and, of course, One Man & His Bike by Mike Carter. I've just bought Rob Lilwall's Cycling Home from Siberia (I'm a few chapters in and it's excellent) but the conversation centred around how people like Mike Carter can afford the time to cycle around the coast of the UK. We both admitted that in our situations, ie we have commitments, it would be impossible.

Bike-friendly caff in Westerham – note bicycle pump chained to drainpipe

On The Psychopath Test we discussed David Shayler and how he was portrayed in the book and moved on, when we reached Westerham, to discuss conspiracy theories, like 'did we really go to the moon?' Not us personally, but the Americans. Oddly, perhaps, while I think we did – and so does Andy – there's quite a bit of plausibility in the notion that we didn't and, secretly, I think we'd both love it to be fake. How funny!

The ride was fairly pleasant until we reached the roundabout beyond Botley Hill and turned into Clarks Lane. An easterly wind was cold so, instead of going down the conventional hill, we detoured through the golf course road and did that downhill slice of off-road riding, which was dotted with muddy puddles. Andy went through as many of them as possible, while I kept my bike dry.

Snow from last week snagged in the hedgerow

As a result of the detour, we approached Westerham from a different route, arriving in the high street midway and making our way to the Green. It was around 0840hrs and we sat there for about 30 minutes, leaving for home around 0910hrs.

The journey back, as expected, was long and arduous as we headed towards the hill, the long hill that lasts all the way to Botley Hill. Having missed a ride last week I felt a little sluggish. We stopped prior to the hill to take a photograph of some snow snagged in the hedgerow and then continued the ride.

Andy broke away halfway along the B269 and I carried on along the road to Sanderstead, reaching home just past 1030hrs.

The cold weather continues

...and snow still lies on the ground, although it's thawing very slowly. Now, when I say that snow is still lying on the ground, that gives the impression that it's been snowing a lot. It has been snowing a lot further north. In fact, in places like the Isle of Arran in Scotland, they're still without power after nearly a week of heavy snowfall. People have lost their lives and some of the pictures on television show huge snow drifts. In the south I think the phrase 'snow flurries' would sum up the situation adequately. I was still about to reverse the car off the drive and take my daughter to school, put it that way, on the day the snow fell. Last Saturday it snowed all day but the roads were still black – the colour of the tarmac they're made of – and only the front lawns and fields have retained the snow and that's because it's still very cold out there. I find it quite odd that a fortnight ago I was swimming in an outdoor pool in a hotel in Irvine, California, where the temperature was in the mid-80s.

Lingering snow – hardly cause for concern

In an earlier post I'd written about my favourite book of the moment, One Man & His Bike by Mike Carter. Now I've finished it I feel at a loose end and need another book, but what to buy? Carter's Uneasy Rider seems like a plan, but do I really want to read another book by Carter straightaway? I'm sure it's good, I mean Charley Boorman says so on the front cover, but it's about Carter's journey through various countries on a motorcycle so I'm not likely to have any affinity with it as I did with his cycling adventure around the coast of the UK.

I tried looking out for Pedalling to Hawaii, by Steve Smith, the guy that Mike met aboard the Salcombe to East Portlemouth ferry. Smith was, in fact, the ferryman and Carter was told by a fellow passenger to  ask the ferryman about his trip, so Mike did and discovered that Smith had pedalled all the way to Hawaii, telling Mike that 'loads of people had cycled across continents and others had rowed across oceans. But no-one had combined the two into a human-powered journey around the globe'.

So off went Stevie and a pal in what Carter described as 'a glorified pedalo called Moksha', encountering heavy seas and God knows what else. When they reached Miami, Stevie jumped on a bike and headed for San Francisco. His travel buddy Jason had set off on rollerblades but had an accident with a car, both his legs being smashed up in the process. Oddly, while Stevie stopped in Hawaii, Jason continued on the pedallo and reached Australia where, using his feet, a bike and a kayak travelled to India then by Mokhsa again to Africa and, ultimately, reaching the UK (Greenwich) in 2007. What an adventure!

Stevie Smith is another reason to read One Man & His Bike. I won't ruin it, but Smith gets philosophical about life and why being a ferryman is the perfect job for him despite the affluent nature of Salcombe and its initial effect on his self-esteem. Equally, of course, his book, Pedalling to Hawaii is out there somewhere, but I couldn't find in Waterstone's.