Poor Student 200km Audax Saturday 3rd January 2015

Oxford, home of the Poor Student Audax

Me and George had spoken about riding the Poor Student 200km Audax for some time.  A running joke had developed between us, each mocking the other’s inability to get around the course, but with no serious intention of actually taking part.  As time went on and the ride got ever closer, we both began to give it serious consideration. My biggest fear was the possibility of snow and ice. When the weather forecast showed this to be unlikely and with just a week to go, we took the plunge and entered. During the preceding week the outlook did worsen, but by then, for us, there was no going back.

We arrived in good time for the 8.00am start from the Park and Ride on the northern outskirts of Oxford. We found the organiser who had sensibly taken refuge in a bus shelter and received our Brevet cards. As predicted, the temperature was hovering a few degrees above freezing and it was raining. Estimating numbers is always difficult, but there were at least 100 riders.

A blast of a horn signalled the start and we were underway. With 130 miles to cover, most riders slipped into a relaxed pace. Tightly group, one lost a piece of equipment from his bike. Those following had to take avoiding action and with various warning shouts being called, it looked for a moment as if a pileup was about to occur.

We always wear our club kit on Audax rides and it normally gets a mention or two. This time someone in the peloton quipped that we would be able to easily ‘pack’ when we got to Malmesbury, which raised a ripple of laughter. The fact that the route went through Malmesbury was seen by us as a bit of an insurance policy, but if I did fold I’d still have to go back to Oxford to collect the car.

The first stage of around 37 miles was to Chipping Campden. Breaking the journey down into sections made it feel less intimidating. It wasn’t too long before my waterproof gloves were completely sodden, which resulted in the loss of any feeling in my fingertips. Worse still, were my feet. I was experimenting with a pair of thermal socks.  They were doing an excellent job of keeping my ankles and shins toasty warm, but nothing for my toes. How long does it take before frostbite sets in, I wondered. Nothing particularly hilly comes to mind, but there were some long, gradual ascents.

The Bantam Cafe at Chipping Campden

Eventually we arrived at the Bantam Café in Chipping Campden where our Brevet cards were stamped.  I gratefully grasped my mug of tea, relishing the heat and eagerly devoured a slab of spiced fruit cake.  Others had gathered around the roaring open fire and were desperately trying to dry out loose items of clothing.

Plenty of cake to choose from at The Bantam Cafe

Stage two saw us heading for Malmesbury with roughly 42 miles to complete.  A beast of a hill out of Chipping Campden was just one of many. The rain might have eased, but there was now thick mist on the high ground. The thundering descents left me frozen to the core, whereas the ascents made me work hard and feel less cold. I was definitely enjoying the ups more than the downs.

Having reached Chedworth it was quite literally downhill all the way into Cirencester. Over familiar roads through Ewen, Oaksey, Hankerton and Charlton, we arrived at the High Street in Malmesbury. Small withdrawals secured the necessary ATM receipts to prove that we’d arrived.

Malmesbury's Market Cross

At this point I must confess that we allowed ourselves the luxury of popping home for some beans on toast. We also threw our gloves into the spin dryer and changed our wet socks.

The last 51 miles saw George sustain a puncture not far from Purton, mercifully still in the daylight and then he flipped his chain just outside of Highworth.  I discovered that the chain had somehow become knotted.  Just when I thought I’d have to take out a pin, the chain magically unraveled and we were back on our way. By now it was dark and with the temperature having noticeably dropped, there was a worrying glint to the road surface.

Having reached Shrivenham we met up with some other Poor Students and rode with them for a couple of miles. We then pushed on across the Oxfordshire countryside over deserted lanes, occasionally passing through small settlements.

At Botley the Garmin died of exhaustion and we had to revert to the paper version. A rather tricky set of instructions saw us cycle up the slip road onto a short section of the A420 before cutting onto a cycle path which ran parallel with the A34. A little more trickery saw us back at the start.

Needing receipts to prove that we’d returned within the time allowed we ordered a KFC and ate hungrily.

Setting off for home George quickly fell asleep leaving me with my memories of what had been a challenging, but rewarding ride, for company.