Through a lens darkly

I was determined to ride today after yesterday's washout, but the omens didn't look good when I woke up. There was a heavy drizzle and the news reported that the River Avon had burst its banks pretty much the length of Warwickshire. The emergency services described Evesham, which was on my planned route, as "an island". As the worst flooding seemed to be west of here I thought I'd head east instead, notionally targeting the National Trust house at Canons Ashby in Northamptonshire. The problem with cycling east is that you head out with the wind at your back, but ride back into a headwind, because the prevailing winds come from the south west, hence most end to enders cycle south to north with the wind, but so be it. When I got there it didn't look like this picture, it had a big black cloud over it.

I was well dressed for the weather, my Howies merino base layer (which I would recommend to any cyclist http://www.howies.co.uk/ ), a swobo merino cycling top packed with munchies for the trip (again recommended - http://www.swobo.com/ ) and my race face waterproof, breathable, gore tex type stuff which has seen me through torrential downpours in Scotland and snowstorms in Wales. I opted for shorts because although it was wet it wasn't cold (about 14degC), which proved to be the right decision. So I felt snug and wrapped against the elements. Which was fine for a while, but I hadn't reckoned on rain on my glasses which drastically reduced my visibility. I persevered until the first hill at which point they steamed up reducing visibility to virtually zero, so I gave up and put them in my pocket. My eyesight isn't so bad that this is particularly a problem, but at about 12km disaster struck. My eyebrows stopped working! They must have reached saturation point because stinging rain started to stream into my eyes, causing me to have to stop and wipe it out. I continued warily. Reaching Fenny Compton I had intended to turn east towards my destination but couldn't resist a detour over Burton Dasset hills. Which was fun apart from the fact that when I got to the top it was shrouded in cloud, so not only was it more wet, but my visibility was further reduced. All I needed now was for darkness to fall! Even the sheep gave me funny looks.

My detour took me on a fabulous descent to Farnborough. At the bottom of the hill I braked hard (just as the first car I'd seen for about an hour appeared behind me) because I saw a large pool of brown water blocking the way. Except it wasn't, it was wet tarmac. How the following motorist must have cursed. Still it s nice to get my own back!

I had already cycled through three floods, only one of which had wet my feet, but on reaching Cropredy I was stopped by a full blown flood. About four feet of water covered the road in a torrent, with a pickup truck, with car atop, comically stranded in the middle. Cropredy is famous for two things, the Civil War Battle of on 29th June 1649 (I looked this up: http://www.battlefieldstrust.com/resource-centre/civil-war/battleview.asp?BattleFieldId=2) and the annual music festival for folkies run by Fairport Convention. I retraced my steps, via another impassable flood, to Claydon, not famous for anything that I am aware of, but preparing for a very damp annual fete. I asked three wet stewards which road I should take and was pleasantly surprised by their interest in my bike and what I was doing. We chatted for 10 minutes before they sent me on my way.

A pleasant quiet road took me through to Moreton Pinkney, with only one wet feet wade, but at least it wasn't raining. I passed over another battle field, this time from the Wars of the Roses at Edgecote almost 538 years ago to the day (http://www.battlefieldstrust.com/resource-centre/warsoftheroses/battleview.asp?BattleFieldId=13). The info board described it as a very black day for Wales as the Earl of Pembroke's troops were routed by those of Warwick (the kingmaker) and Pembroke was captured and executed. I tried to imagine the battle as I looked out across the fields and did take a picture for inclusion here, but my phone has suffered with the rain and packed up. Land of my fathers, indeed.

I intended to stop at Canons Ashby for a cup of tea in the cafe there, but as I approached the heavens opened again, so a quick carb stop and I carried on, through Eydon and intended to take the road past Boddington Resevoir (not sadly full of Boddington's Bitter), but it had burst its banks, so I was again forced to retrace my steps, but took a lovely route through Priors Marston and Priors Hardwick to Wormleighton and then back on the same road I came out on.

The only further event of note was the idiot driver who tried to run me off the road in the middle of a flood, causing me to swerve around her and get a soaking from the car's wash as I passed.

So I got home, wet but happy. 111km in 4.5 hours, an average speed of 26kph, a bit less than 10% off my recent averages. Which given the atrocious weather I was pretty pleased with. Because Beth and Mo were still out, when I got back I went straight to the gym for a sauna and jacuzzi, where I drew strange looks as I strolled through reception in tight wet lycra shorts and merino jerseys. Hmm, I have sympathy for those that witnessed it!

I bumped into Dave Mortimer from work and shared a celebratory beer (celebratory for me, he was pondering 2 weeks home alone as his family had just flown out to Spain. I expect to see him doing long hours in the office in their absence!)