Circuit of Chailey - Perspective of a TT virgin

Circuit of Chailey - Perspective of a TT virgin

Sunday 29th September by Paget Cohen

I didn't join the club in order to ride time trials as it had never appealed to me, plus I didn't think I'd be any good.  I thought I might do relatively better at hill climbs, but I really wasn't in sufficiently good shape to consider the ESCA Hardriders  and I missed the club's annual assault on Firle Beacon due to a major c**k up on my part as to Bank Holidays - I glanced at the calendar over a leisurely late Monday breakfast to realise I should have been at work!  As it had always been my intention to participate in at least one competitive event this year that only left Chailey, whose lumpy profile might at least suit my riding ability and compact road bike, even if a 50:12 top ratio might see me hitting the 'rev-limiter' downhill.  Ride preparation consisted of no more than Sunday Club Runs and the occasional commute from Heathfield to Eastbourne;  the 20 mile scenic route I opt for should at least have prepared my body for the duration of effort required, although I normally 'die' on the slight incline from Rushlake Green to Three Cups.

Conditions on the day were as good as could be wished for - dry, bright, 15 degrees or so (warm enough for short sleeves) and what wind there was coming from the East (so no headwinds).  I'd have been embarrassed not to complete the 17.58miles within an hour, I'd have been happy with 55 minutes and I dreamed of 52:44 to average 20mph.  Looking at the start sheet and last year's result I doubted I'd be able to catch anybody starting ahead and fully expected the 6 behind to pass me before the finish so I'd have to concentrate on how I was feeling in order to pace myself.

In hindsight I needn't have arrived so early as an hour was plenty of time to get ready, but also for the butterflies to build.  At 9:14 I was off, on the small chain-ring as I felt sure the lactic acid would kick in if I even attempted to power up the first climb.  My minuteman Rob Rollings roared past me before we even reached the support of Micky T and Gibbo on the A272, a taste of things to come I feared.  I pegged the gap to Rob on the slight uphill and left turn, but he was out of sight for good by the time John Miller directed me South onto the A275 and I braced myself into becoming a mobile chicane for others.  I had a nervy moment on the incline past the Horns Lodge Inn to the brickworks when a Volkswagen Golf threatened to reverse into my path, but still I hadn't been jumped by Mr Jeffs.  Instead to my surprise I crested the rise to espy another competitor up ahead.  I felt I was going well, but assumed they must have had some trouble for me to have them in sight, but it helped to have someone to chase.

Common wisdom would have it that when venturing into the unknown you should stick as much a possible to what you already know, but I'd acquired some free gels with my Tour de France preview pack last year and today seemed like as good a day as any to try them particularly as they were now just past their best before.  I can assure you some of it went in my mouth as I tasted something sweet and fruity even if it looked like I'd just squirted the contents over myself.  Up the hill after The Rainbow I was finally caught (by Lawrence Watts on camera), but lost my rabbit as number 8 pulled over to chat to a marshal - turns out Mike Hannay had followed a sportive arrow in South Chailey and spent several minutes going the wrong way before rejoining just in front of me.  I may have lost my rabbit, but I'd gained 4 non-competitors to now chase down who I was on the brink of catching at Holman's Bridge when Pete Morris passed me for 6 minutes.  Both of us were through them by the next mini-summit only for 2 of them on bikes fitted with tri-bars to retake me just before the junction Chris Hough was manning.  This proved a blessing in disguise however as they weren't slow on the flat and I was able to tuck in behind them for some shelter down Markstakes Lane.

Turning left I was back on my own, but still feeling good and again through South Chailey I spotted another time-triallist to aim for in the distance.  Having emptied my second gel down my front and the bike I overtook Keith Walker at the last crest before The Rainbow and immediately saw yet another race number to home in on.  The excellent marshals by the pub not only stopped a 4x4 from turning across me, but confirmed my next target as our resident triathlete Debbie Evers.  I certainly found the second ascent of Deadmantree Hill harder than the first as I felt the need to stand on the pedals near the top, but it helped morale to have someone even slower to overhaul.  To my astonishment I'd now gained more places than I'd lost, but if I was feeling the crosswind on exposed sections of the Northbound leg it must have been worse for those with disc wheels.  Out of the last junction I got out of the saddle to accelerate into one final effort and found a train of female sportive riders in front of me.  Sadly they weren't quick enough to provide any sort of tow, but they did provide me with a succession of intermediate targets to take me all the way to the finish line.  I forgot to look at my computer as I passed Richard Mead, but since it read 52:13 when I pulled up at the end of the road I assumed I must have either found a shortcut or still had another lap to do, not that I was keen at the time.

Having exceeded my wildest expectations one wonders if I could have gone any quicker.  Things definitely went my way in terms of the traffic, both motorised and self-propelled.  Even without heart-rate monitor or cadence meter I feel I paced it very well;  I wasn't dead on the line, although Dave Hodgson was kind enough to remark on how knackered I looked, but it's hard to see how I could have gone faster anywhere on the same equipment.  There's some room for improvement in gear selection now I know the course, and perhaps with tri-bars and a bigger top gear I could beat 50.  Certainly with a machine of the sort most others rode I'd like to think that would be the bare minimum I could achieve, but while I enjoyed it more than I anticipated I think I've left it a bit late to get seriously into this pointy hat lark, but I'll undoubtedly do it again sometime.  Many thanks to all the pushers-off, marshals, time-keepers, caterers and Alan Lloyd for organising it all and the apology.