TLWWINSASOBT was singing in a fund-raising concert on the
other side of the downs, so we naturally decided that the
sensible thing to do was to cycle there and back. It's only
about twenty-five miles from Oxford to Ashampstead in a more-or-
less straight line, so we set off in that direction. Sadly,
that involves going straight up the scarp slope onto the
Ridgeway, and even more sadly it involves a couple of miles
of unsurfaced byways at the top. It is true that it had
been raining for about three days, and we did get a couple
of showers on the way out that were well into the hosing-
down regime, so we got rather more bogged down than we
might have expected (touring kit with mudguards and full
panniers...) and arrived what-you-might-call a little late
for the afternoon rehearsal. In retrospect it would have
been more sensible to take the train to Pangbourne. No
really. However, the odd thing about the journey was,
especially given the grand view of the sunlit downs
(somewhere in the distance) and assorted kestrels and small
furry things (nearby), that after leaving Abingdon we saw
only two cyclists, both on mountain bikes and descending
the dip slope. Oh, and there was a quad bike, but that's
not a bike is it?
I think most of our clothes are dried off by now, and most
of the mud is off the bikes. They still have a slightly
chalky sheen, though.
After the rehearsal, the tea (by the gallon, with home made
cakes... there's a lot to be said for knowing someone who
sings in a choir) and the concert we set off back by road,
down "that hill" into Streatley and back by road. (We
confess that, it being pitch black and all, we wimped out
on the hill and walked down.) It was already closing time
by the time we stopped for a snackerelle in Goring. That
was when we saw the fluorescent yellow couple on the
(Claude Butler, I think) tandem (with decent front lights)
going the other way. We only saw one other person on a bike
(dressed in back, on an unlit mountain bike, on the
pavement in Wallingford) all the way back to Oxford. Where
were all the cyclists on Saturday? More particularly where
were all the cyclists on Saturday night? There was some
brilliantly scary lightning, and we had the roads almost to
ourselves most of the way.
Not that I plan to do it again in a hurry.
The other odd thing is that we saw almost no wildlife on the
night leg. There was a badger that rumbled across the road
just as we left Ashampstead, and another in the field it was
running into, but after that there was nothing more than the
odd wood-pigeon that we startled until we got back to Oxford
and found a deer watching us by the side of the road.
