First day on the road to Babbacombe today. A 118km pootle down to Dursley for the night. I was pleased the forecast delivered but I was in for a tough day.
Just one pannier bag needed. These Ortlieb panniers are cavernous.
I started just after Noon, check in wasn’t till after 5pm so I gave myself around 5hrs to do the ride.
The initial kilometres out through the lanes were standard fayre. Roads I’ve ridden numerous times except today was a lot warmer.
Out to Droitwich had plenty of shade available to take a break from the Sun and it was nice and I hardly saw a car too. Just outside Droitwich I got spooked by a roadie zipping past me . That sound of deep section carbon wheels pinging along is unique.
Out of Droitwich and back into quiet lanes tracking the M5. It’s only when you are next to one you realise how horrifically noisy they are. I dipped under it for the first time of many crossings today.
I’d given myself a quiet route and picked up the canal towpath at Oddingley and enjoyed a relatively pedestrian-free ride right into Diglis basin in the centre of the City. It was very well shaded too.
My Garmin had a wobble in Diglis as I decided to track the river when I should have stayed on the NCN. After a quick scoot around the apartment blocks I picked up the route again and crossed the A38 and took the pedway across the St Peters estate to cross the ring road. Worcester done, traffic-free.
I was into the lanes again now and the sun was beating down and pretty oppressive. I just had to suck it up and carry on.
Just past Kinnersley I stopped to take a look at what was left of Dunstall Castle. It just sits there by the side of the road. The view from the top of the restored tower must be good but it wasn’t open today.
So far traffic was absent from my ride. I think I could count on one hand how many cars had passed me.
At Strensham I crossed the M5 for the 3rd time skirting the services but craving a cold drink. My bottle was warm. Into more lanes and I found the bunny I’d seen a few years ago on another ride to tackle the monster climb that is Bushcombe Lane just outside Cheltenham.
I’d only ridden these lanes once before but couldn’t really remember them until I got to a small village called Twyning (nothing to do with Tea). It has a nice village green and just past that I stumbled on a Spar to which my brakes were slammed on and I dived in and took a full fat coke and bottle to refill with.
It was so hot, I could have stayed there longer but decided to press on. I recognised the lanes that dropped me onto the A38 briefly for a small climb and descent then right on the Ledbury Road. Here I had to wait at the lights that control the single lane bridge over the Severn and I stopped in direct sunlight which was a stark reminder how hot it was and I needed to be careful. Basically I was baking.
After a couple of miles on the main road, I turned left and it was lanes all the way to Hartpury now to the west of the River Severn. A much nicer, quiet route than the A38. All quite gentle, nothing steep.
Hartpury gave way to the first steep kicker for a while and while I baked climbing it I was also treated to a dose of diesel fume from the tractor in the adjacent field. Over the top gave way to a magnificent view down to Gloucester with the Cathedral on view in the distance. The breeze from the descent was welcome but before I knew it I was the bottom, in Maisemore and on the A417. Here I crossed the bridge over the river and picked up the cycle path that runs adjacent to it. A great little path. A little unkept but way better than trying to cross the A40. Instead I rode underneath it.
The path lead me straight into the Quays which were busier than I expected. I’d loved to have stopped at one of the bars and had a drink but I had to crack on.
Onto the canal to enjoy the continental-style towpath once again but it wasn’t long before I had to come off and get back into the lanes. Gloucester done, traffic-free
By now it was seriously hot and I was craving a drink. The last time I was on these roads a couple of months ago I passed a pub in Epney that sat right on the rivers edge. That was now my target and a pint of Thatchers but when I got there it was closed. Ok, the next pub was just down the road, closed too. FFS. I needed a drink and I knew Whitminster was coming up after I crossed back over the canal from Sault but there was no shop there either. Then bingo, at the A38 I found an open pub and a store open. Because of the store I took the safe option and bought a 2 litre bottle of water. Drunk some, refilled and strapped the rest on top of my pannier bag. The effect was instant. It cooled down my core temp and I was feeling ok again. Just one big climb to do now and it was downhill all the way to Dursley and my overnight stop.
At Frocester I began the lower slopes of Frocester Hill before it kicked up to an average of 10% but as soon as I slowed and lost the breeze it felt like I’d been put in an oven and the door shut on me. Jesus. Hotter than any ride I can remember recently. I slapped the bike in 2nd gear and twiddled up but the road was really busy and I had constant queues behind me and cars revving past. Not pleasant but the views were good. Half way up I had to stop when there wasn’t really anywhere safe to do so. and threw the rest of the bottle over me to cool me down. That helped and got me to the top in some order before a trundle along the ridge and a steep descent through Uley into Dursley and I was done. Literally. Slow cooked for 5hrs.
I’m staying in a cheap Airbnb tonight, hosted by a lovely lady called Sarah and Poppy the Dog. Her kids have grown up and flew the nest so she has a lodger and does a bit of Airbnb for money. My room is very red. Red bed sheets, a red wall, red curtains and a red bin too but I don’t care.
I booked myself into the local Italian restaurant and after a shower I walked there but as I was about to cross the road to it,a cyclist came flying around the corner, the front wheel washed out and he went down face first like a sack of shit. After a few moments rolling around moaning it was evident he was intoxicated and his front wheel was flat. The side of his face was fucked, like a haematoma, his knee was all grazed and he’s cut his finger and was pissing blood too. He eventually got up and came around a bit enough for me to ask him if he had someone he could call. He phoned his wife and gave me the phone but she didn’t answer to which he thanked me and walked off with his bike. He only had a baseball cap on. Mental.
Anyway, I smashed a pizza then had a pint in a nice, traditional pub then walked back to get some water to rehydrate with tonight but my room is an inferno.
Hopefully it’ll cool down later and I’m able to get some sleep but we go again tomorrow with a descent of Cheddar Gorge the highlight after another tasty climb to get there.
Over and out.
Great first day 👍💪