At about 8:30 Saturday evening a group of six to seven hundred people set off from a pub by London Fields and headed, generally, north east. The destination: a beach in Dunwich, the purpose: well no real reason but I was amongst these people feeling rather out classed but knowing that I would give it my all to reach the destination.
The story goes that on a balmy night in 1990, a group of cycle couriers had finished the day's work and were having a quick drink at that very pub when they decided that it would be nice to ride to the east coast to see the sun rise. Off they went and, 120 miles later, as they reached the end of the line at Dunwich beach, they had no idea that they had just started an annual tradition that would attract more and more people to grow to the event that is today known as the Dunwich dynamo.
Three snickers bars, a few pro-plus pills and a cup of soup had past by 8am the next day as I arrived at the beach well after sunrise. Granted the time I covered the distance in was not a great one but I was over the moon just to see the 'finish line' but at this point, all I could think about was food, I was starving. First thing's first, as you can see here (at 4 minutes, 10 seconds), I scoffed down a full English fry-up. I know, I look like an escapee from Guantanamo bay but at this point, I really didn't care, my body ached all over, I wanted to sleep and I would have killed for a massage but I had made it!
After a quick snooze on the beach and still feeling completely spent, I had to set off on the four mile journey to Darsham station, I managed, at most, 8 miles per hour with my knee reminding me that is wasn't going to play on every peddle. Finally getting to the station and seeing 20 other cyclists waiting at the platform, I was told it was ok as someone had called ahead and the conductor would let us on.
The train arrives only for the conductor to evoke sod's law and say “no cycles”, a few minutes of arguing and we knew we were fighting a lost fight. Everyone, including me, who had a connecting train at Ipswich would miss it. At this point, one thing was apparent to me: there was no way in hell I would be able to cycle the thirty miles to Ipswich station. “You're looking very calm” one of the cyclists said to me as we sat in the car park, I figured we had missed the train, missed the connecting so there was no point worrying about it.
My first thought was to call a 'friend with a van' to pick me (and some others) up, and though this would have been really lucrative for him, I would imagine asking someone to drive from London to Ipswich and back was a bit too much for a Sunday morning so I called that plan 'B'. After a few phone calls, we got a cab to take us to Ipswich station and the rest of the journey was a breeze.
Home, slept, ate, slept some more, ate some more and slept again, before long, it was Monday. The knee still hurts and I don't think I'll even consider riding for the next two weeks but I'm already looking forward to next year, July the 4th when I can do it all over again.
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5 comments:
great post josh, sounds like it was great fun too (will defo be there next year, come hell or high water) and looks as if you really enjoyed that great english b'fast too...
and congrats on foiling the evil plans of the railway johnnies and getting back to london alive and in one piece...
You should have called Hermit Guy. He lives near Ipswich. Glad you had a good time - I haven't been on a bike for years so I'm always disbelieving at your energy.
ER, thanks I look forward to it, it's well worth it!
Ariane, you should jump on a bike, cycling around London is great and even though you've not ridden for years, don't worry.... it's just like riding a bike!
Yes, I should have called Hermit Guy, it looks like I missed out on rich tea....
I can only apologise on behalf of the rail guards in Suffolk. The old fashioned trains had a guard's carriage that was ideal for cycles, but these seem to be a thing of that past. It's slightly absurd that you found it easier to transport cycles by taxi.
And, just to be pedantic, you will note that I am no longer called Hermit Guy. It wasn't much of a disguise.
Gray, there's absolutely no need for you to apologize for rail guards or any other person in Suffolk, but thanks.
I've noted the change but still feel the need to stick with Hermit Guy... it's a cool pseudonym.
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