FEATURE: Escape from London!
Source: Stuart Wright
Posted: 1 July 2008
Combining the train and the bicycle has long been the road to cycling nirvana, as the classic piece of nostalgic footage below shows. However, times and attitudes to cycling have changed, so will the experience be the same, 50 years on? Armed only with a bicycle and a cursory knowledge of the rail system, Stuart Wright details his experience of escaping London's sprawling suburbs for the leafy lanes of Oxfordshire.
On one of the busiest days in the south of England's cycling calendar, London to Brighton, eight men chose instead to cycle from London to Oxford. Coinciding with fathers day, the trip was made all the more special by two of our cohort making the trip a visit to see their student sons too.
Our 61 mile route started on Richmond Green and took us to Marlow and through the Chilterns up to Christmas Common, with the train back to London at the end of the day.
The night before I followed the little known six basic rules of cycle maintenance: pump tyres, oil chain, pump tyres, oil chain, pump tyres and oil chain. I also packed an extra inner tube and shower proof jacket in my saddle-bag. My chosen fuel was: four flapjacks, bananas and two 750ml bottles (two-thirds isotonic drink, one-third water).
Given we live in different parts of London, our start time was relatively late - 10am. For me starting my journey in Leyton, east London, that could mean a 17 mile warm up ride to Richmond. I opted for the North London line from nearby Stratford. Unfortunately, rail works over the weekend saw the only running from Gospel Oak. Not ideal, but only seven miles from my home.
In Richmond a mixed bag of kit and bikes greeted me. Six of us were a multi-colour splash of lycra; one even sporting the cycling fashionistas brand of choice, Rapha. All of us chose road bikes ranging from an old tourer to an all carbon racer.
The first part of the ride was largely uneventful. While Richmond may be surburbia, it's still very built up. As we passed by Cowley and then beyond the M25 it finally started to feel like the countryside as we left London's sprawl behind us. Belting along at an average speed of 15mph might not win a pro-tour event, but for this group of cycling tourists it was fast enough to spread the field. Through Rowley Wood, it's was strange to see 'Corporation of London' signs so far away from the square mile. We sped passed Pinewood Studios and then we found relatively empty lanes to Fulmer and then Farnham Common. Burnham Beeches provided another wooded interlude from the fields and then onto Cookham. A thought about how flat the journey was so far was rudely interrupted by the climb up Winter Hill. Our reward was a long, gradual descent into Marlow.
The next milestone was 12 more miles away - lunch at the Fox and Hounds pub in Christmas Common. At the forty mile point the majority of our journey would be behind us by then. However, there was the small matter of climbing up through the Chilterns to reach it.
We left Marlow's rammed high street via the B482. Less than a mile on and we turned off this minor road for even quieter country lanes leading us up to the tiny outposts Frieth and Fingest. In one beautiful, tree line stretch we had our only incident a puncture. Four carried on their climb, while the rest waited to make sure all was well.
Half a mile away four cyclists grouped and waited and waited some more. Turns out these micro-pumps are no so generous with the air when it comes to getting anything like ride worthy pressure.
A combination of impatience and hunger was setting in as we craved the lunch stop it was pretty straight forward now to Christmas Common; Turville and Northend stood between us, and food.
Although an old and established pub for the area, and used in BBC2 reality show 'The Restaurant', the current landlord was new - in post for less than a week. A local sat nearby said: "We'd have been disappointed if we'd rode there last week as it was shutdown."
The lunches came and quickly went. By now, well after the second beer, it was 3.45pm. Phone calls were made to waiting sons with our new ETA.
Full of fuel (food) and an eye on the clock, our group split up even more as we completed the final 20 miles quicker than any previous 20 mile section. The B480 was our road, and it took us, relatively car free, all the way into Oxford. Traffic only started to blot our progress when we got within two miles of our final destination.
Gliding into this illustrious seat of learning and American tourist trap we all met up at our rendezvous another ancient boozer dating back to the 14th century, and Inspector Morse's favourite the Turf Tavern.
It was only when we got settled in Oxford did we start to talk about the journey home. One person had called the train operators and it seemed they do take bikes. However, the overall advice was simple - there is no guarantee of getting your bike on a train to London. After nearly an hour of more rest we split into two groups of four to increase the chances of getting home okay.
In Oxford train station we wheeled ourselves to the ticket office. After some confusion, caused by ourselves, we established we needed four tickets. The sales assistant gave us a cheap group ticket, which meant less than a tenner each to get back. Plus, rather than see our bikes as a problem, he told us which train had the most capacity and where on the platform we should stand for the 6.50pm First Great Western to London Paddington.
When the train arrived, we made our way to carriage with the bike logo on it and a waiting train manager. Capacity was only six bikes. We discovered that was a strict limit, when the same person welcoming us onto the train bellowed to two other people trying to sneak their bikes into another carriage. Later, the second group had an equally smooth transition from bike to train. So gold stars all round for Oxford Station and First Great Western.
The train ride home was as uneventful as the escape from London. However, the ride home to Leyton reminded me exactly how enjoyable some of the country roads had been away from the grinding city environment: bumper to bumper, buses rearing up on you and irate faces everywhere trying to get somewhere as quick as possible.
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