Sussex-MTB

As I sit here, sore as hell, bloodied, bruised and scraped and cut, I reflect on my chalky adventure down south on SMTB’s home patch. It was Hoop’s idea.

He posted a very appealing looking ride at Whiteways early Sunday morning. I haven’t in this area since doing old school xc racing back in the day, 15 years ago, and was really tempted by the idea of revisiting the place and taking on the ‘masters of chalk’ in their own back yard. (Not that I’m competitive you understand… I spend most of my time riding the Surrey Hills and North Downs which are an entirely different surface to chalk, but, come on, how difficult can it be?

I knew from the last time I’d checked the post that Hoops, ASBO and Brian at least were in, so the standard of riding was going to be high, but hey, I can mix it with them, even on their terrain…

It was an usually late night for me Saturday night, and a 6am start, so I left home, in the dark, tired and a little concerned about the stormy weather, but the further south I got, the better the weather, and the anticipation of a proper epic of a ride grew as I drove.

On arrival I was greeted by more cheery Sussex boys than I expected – 8 in all, and after the minimal faffing and fettling we were under way, a natural order forming quickly with Hoops leading the way, me following closely with Brian and ASBO close behind and goading all the way, with the others following closely. The swoopy singletrack began instantly, and quickly turned up hill, wending its slippery way I’ve no idea where.

The ground was wet and slippery, but the sky was dry and the spirits were high, I was enjoying this! The banter was flowing freely and so were the laughs. We wound our way up and as the singletrack ended, we joined a double track and continued the climb away from the forest, surrounded by beautiful scenery, with Hoops and ASBO ahead of me…

…and Martin, Brian and the others not far behind.

After a while, and a warning about a really fast (in the dry anyway) singletrack descent, we turned left and cranked it up. Hoops led, and took off at a properly fast lick, I followed with ASBO behind. It was slippery, but staying loose and relaxed and flowing with the trail did the trick, although I did have an almighty sideways ‘brown pants’ moment that caused ASBO a great deal of amusement. I rode it out though and the confidence soared through this North Downs boy. ‘North’ could take on ‘South’, no worries… Uncle Phil continued to show us all his amazing style, fitness and finesse, Kim and Martin added fuel to the ‘hard tails rule here’ theory and Matt even managed to keep a big wheeler on the trail and make it go round corners…

All the while I had no idea where we were, but it didn’t matter – great company, great trails, banter and taking on the slippery chalk was what this ride was about.

We turned up hill again, a short but steep track to test the legs. It pains me to say, but ASBO proved that there’s plenty of power in those mighty calves as he stomped his singlespeed up the hill…

After a particularly treacherous, but quality fast descent,

…we were faced with a proper steep climb up to the SDW that forced all into a dismount, with the exception of Iron man Hoops, who got away with one dab (and a small push!)

We crossed a picturesque field, which was an opportunity to regroup and gather breath.

We continued on, the trails come thick and fast. After a couple of hours riding I was really on it, cocky confident with my new found ‘chalk wheels’. We all know what happens immediately after over-confidence…

As we turned down again, Hoops shouted a warning (or threw a gauntlet, depending on your perception…) that this was a fast and slippery descent that was awesome in the dry, but he’d never been down it in the wet. We took off, Hoops first and me following, closely at first, but he soon started to drop me. ASBO was giving it some close behind me with Martin and Brian on his tail. The trail was fairly narrow and wound its way through the trees and down the hill. It suddenly opened out and levelled slightly and passed a small derelict outhouse type building. As I went over an exposed chalky rough patch, the next thing I knew was I was bouncing on my hip, with searing pain in my thigh and knee.

It happened so quickly that I wasn’t really aware of what had caused it, but it became clear that the chalk had bitten back and caught me unawares, causing the front wheel to wash out in a flash. ASBO skidded to a halt behind, complained that my bike was in the middle of the trail, then found his compassionate side and tended to me. That hurt! Although I was cut, grazed and sore, the most painful bit was that I had been too lazy to put the camera back in my bag and had now fallen on it in my shorts pocket, breaking it and causing a deep bruise to the side of my thigh, which was really inhibiting my movement. Hoops was blissfully unaware ahead, so eventually, after a few moments of feeling nauseous and checking that my body wasn’t terminally broken, I was persuaded to get back on the bike and ride down (very gingerly!) to where he’d stopped.

He turned paramedic and patched me up very effectively (cheers pal), but I was in so much pain from my thigh and my confidence on the chalk shattered. After some recovery time, and the realisation that we were a very long way from the car, we headed onwards, and after a while I managed to settle into something of a rhythm. We climbed and descended on great trails for a good while, although I have to admit that my recollection of this last hour is mostly about pain and little about the route…

One thing I was aware of was how well Matt (I believe something of a newbie to mtb) was riding, and what mental strength and determination he has – never moaned once, always grinning despite obviously running on the reserve energy tank!

Finally we could see the masts that signified the highest point of the ride meaning downhill all the way, which was a blessed relief to this broken ‘Chalk Pretender’. We finished off on what was great singletrack (to the others – I couldn’t ride it for toffee by then!) through Houghton forest and back to the car park, just as the heavens absolutely dumped a torrent of rain onto us.

The final stats were 3½ hours of ride time, covering 28 km. It was great. I came south, gave it my best shot, and headed back North to Redhill broken and defeated. You guys can’t half ride the chalk… Respect indeed.

Sorry if you were eating!

Big Daddy