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Cold enough to freeze your whiskers off
Arrivée154Winter2021
Peter Trevis left it late to complete his 2020 RRtY schedule – riding his final 200km of the year, around Dorset, Wiltshire and Hampshire, on a wintery New Year’s Eve. Despite the Covidinduced solitude – and a beard frozen to his jacket – he survived to tell the tale…
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DECEMBER 2020 slipped by without me really noticing – which triggered a panic. To keep my Randonneur Round the Year (RRtY) dream alive, I needed to fit in a 200km ride before the start of 2021. Unsurprisingly, thanks to the pandemic, I had no plans for New Year’s Eve last year – so I double-checked, and confirmed that, provided I started my ride no later than one minute before midnight on the 31st, my ride would be validated. So I conceived a plan. Audax is supposed to be a bit of an adventure, after all – and I enjoy riding at night. You tend to see sights that you wouldn’t normally see – and it’s fun when your eyes play tricks on you! I ate an early dinner and set off into the inky black night at 6pm. I reckoned I’d be at the halfway point by midnight, and back home by 6am. My planned route was a rough triangle of three local rivers – the Stour, the Wylye and the Avon. Parts on the route involved old railway paths and riverside cycle paths. The night was cold and crisp, and the dirt surfaces were as hard as iron. After the initial section, along two kilometres of bridleway, I reached the top of a field and was greeted by a wide view of the valley in the moonlight. The vibe was good. On an old rail track, which runs parallel to the river Stour I found I had no drive from my free hub. I hopped off and spun the crank – it was perfectly smooth and free in both directions. I carried on, and it came back to life. The puddles on the trail were still free of ice, so the going was easy. After negotiating some gates, I tried to pull away – and again, no drive. I was only 17km in at this point, and thought about turning for home. Instead I decided to pull my hub apart. It turned out there was frozen water in the hub shell, stopping the clutch working. I cleaned it off, doused it in chain lube and reassembled it. Then I realised I had a flat and had to stop and fix it. Finally I started to make headway towards the village of Mere at breakneck speed, worried about how much time I’d lost. I was also pretty cold by now but there was some climbing to do around Stourhead which was lit up for the festive season. I whizzed down off the Wiltshire chalk under
the bright moon and into Mere. Here I stopped to put on a warm jacket and woolly hat, and drank some hot Ribena from a flask, together with a half-frozen jam and peanut butter sandwich. The temperature was plummeting. I slid on ice when braking for a turn, and overshot the junction – fortunately without any consequences. I meandered along the river valley towards Wilton under the clear skies. Tendrils of fog were hanging over the river, and the atmosphere was eerie. I felt like I was the only soul around. As I came into the lights of Wilton, heading for Salisbury, the fog lifted a little. It was about to strike midnight and folk were coming to their doorways. As I passed, I waved and wished them a Happy New Year. There were a few half-hearted fireworks let off into the misty sky which lifted the spirits. I was hoping that something in Salisbury would be open, but there was nothing, not even a kebab shop. It was proper cold in the city, but I was heading south, closer to Africa, and hoped it might be warmer! By 1am I was climbing up along the edge of the New Forest. At Godshill I disturbed a group of youths welcoming in the New Year. They must have been spooked by my flickering dynamo drifting up the hill, and they hastily sped off. I dropped back down to the flood plain and the river, where the fog was now very thick. I tried to adjust my Buff and realised that it had frozen solid to my jacket. Luckily, I’m pretty well covered with whiskers, so didn’t worry. I was brought wide awake by a herd of donkeys lolloping towards me out of the mist in the middle of the road. I carved around them and picked it up a little into Ringwood. The going was good, but the harder I rode, the cooler it got. I circled Christchurch harbour and rode the trail to the mouth of the river at Hengistbury Head. I was hoping to refill my bottles at the beach huts but everything was iced solid. The view across the harbour was compensation – like a mirror to the clear sky with just the moon floating across. Still on the lookout for water, I passed a colossal Tesco – it was closed, obviously. I even had a poke about in the service yard. I dropped on to another trial alongside the river. It began enjoyably enough, then turned into an icy struggle, even on my 35mm tyres, so I cut away to the road. On a hill near my parent’s house I stopped to take in the view down to the river, while eating some ginger cake. Now heading for home I knew that if I rode hard I might keep to my original schedule But riding faster whipped up the air around my face and I realised my beard had frozen
PETER TREVIS
Peter Trevis is a 32 year old Audaxer from Blandford Forum, Dorset. He’s been an AUK member for nine years, having ridden his first Dorset Coast event in 2013. He has also raced mountain bikes, and still rides his BMX once a week with friends. Together with his wife Kate, they had planned to complete RRtYs together. Due to the pandemic, Kate is planning to restart her attempt in the new season. to my jacket I had to tease it gently apart – to remove the risk of tearing my beard off when I turned my head at junctions! Finally I was back in our valley and following the last river – the river Tarrant, making it home only 15 minutes behind the plan. All considered, a great way of seeing in the New Year and keeping the RRtY spirt alive!
Peter Trevis CS
