Day 3: Stonehenge - Wantage - Alma Mater

September 8, 2024

Day 3: Stonehenge - Wantage

Chaos rains!

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After enjoying the luxury of a free electric kettle in the kitchen and having about 3 mugs of hot chocolate, I actually slept really well in bunk bed in the little private room. I slept until about 9, and then took my time getting ready as the rain was coming down with some vigour.

I went to the conservatory for breakfast. To my delight my tyre was still up: I was aware that tube might have a slow puncture, but it was evidently so slow I could likely ride on it. Of all my supplies, I only had quinoa left, which made for a pretty bland breakfast. I ate this while I listened to the rain beat more and more heavily on the glass roof, followed by dramatic peals of thunder. The landscape became quite gloomy and I could even see lightening flashes.

Given the poor conditions I decided to wait a little longer. The rare breeds farm attached to the hostel - which apparently guests could visit for free, though that wasn't on my itinerary for the day - had a cafe attached, so I bought a much more energising breakfast of a large carrot cake muffin. It was extremely expensive but also delicious, so a worthy deal and I was happy to have an excuse not to go out into the wet.

Come half ten I couldn't procrastinate any more and decided to go for it. My timing was great! The rain had just stopped, and I had a dry hour or so.

My first challenge was to safely cross the A303 and get out of the Bermuda triangle of major roads in which the hostel was located. I'd plotted a route the previous night that would take me on tracks. Bracing myself, I found they were actually pretty rideable, if dotted with sometimes deep puddles.

The Stonehenge youth hostel. It's really rather good and inexpensive - though the location is a bit strange. To be fair it really is about as close as you can stay to Stonehenge, but it would still be a challenging and not totally pleasant walk of miles to get there.

Tracks lead me north and safely under the A303. They weren't all this easy going - I got a bit torn by brambles at one point - but were pretty rideable compared to the Devon experience

The aim was to cut across the corner of Salisbury plain towards Ludgershal, and then cross the Malborough Downs to the Kennett valley at Hungerford. Hungerford would be the biggest town on my way, and I hoped there might be a bike shop there wehere I could buy an insurance inner tube. Or at least get lunch.

In association with the barracks surrounding Andover, Salisbury plain is a major army training ground. It consists of a high and quite bare and unpopulated (for England) plateau that is perfect for live firing and all sorts of maneuvers. I'd be crossing the corner of this, and through some of the surrounding towns all of which had a serious military presence.

Access on Salisbury plain is really good. There are loads of byways crossing the plain. There are often reminders of its military use - "it may explode!"

Barracks and army offices in Tidworth. Some of them had odd reminders of empire: a whole row of house were named for regiments that were presumably originally based in India or Pakistan. Given the disasters the British army faced at Jallalabad and the Khyber pass I'd thought they wouldn't want to be reminded of this one!

Ludgershall, more reminders. The Gurkhas were (are?) well-respected mountain warriors from Nepal.

Absolute classic bit of cycle path design. Thanks Wiltshire council.

As some may have gathered, I am very gung-ho when it comes to land access in England. Even I take "contaminated area" in military land seriously though.

After leaving Ludgershall and feeling pretty good, I had a long climb and ride over the exposed landscape Malborough downs, with few villages or shelter. I would climb up to 225m, though the gradients were so much kinder than in the Westcountry that it barely felt like effort.

Unfortunately this is when I heard the rumble of thunder. Looking around there really was very little shelter. Thanking the gods that my tyre was at least holding up, I decided to don all the wet weather gear, turn on my lights and ride on. As lightening flashed in the distance I did wonder a little whether I was insulated enough by the rubber not to be earthed as a lightening rod - I was very prominent on the high ridge atop my steel bike...

The rain absolutely hammered down. It was like being under a power-shower at times, although: no wind, and the ambient temperature was pretty warm, and the roads were empty. It was almost fun riding through the lashing rain, and I always get a kick of how well my panniers and bar-bag keep everything dry (my 15-year old waterproof: not so much).

A rare photo actually capturing intensity of rain. The roads are already starting to flood.

Coming down into Great Bedwyn, the weather turned on a dime again and became really quite clear and pleasant. I had a good time wheeling down over the Kennet-and-Avon canal towards Hungerford.

Great Bedwyn, nice little villages these

Bridge over the Kennet and Avon canal, which effectively joins the Westcountry (dominated by the Avon, flowing to Bristol and the Irish sea) and the home counties (dominated by the Thames of which the Kennet is a tributary, flowing into the channel).

Houseboats on the canal. People live here as their permanent residence: a romantic life!

Some lovely lanes took me the last few miles

My luck didn't hold, however. Just a couple of miles from Hungerford my front tyre became seriously soft - clearly the puncture was no longer so slow. I bucked myself up with the idea that at least my trials came one by one, rather than all together - I was on a lovely quiet lane and it wasn't raining.

I got the tube out, and using my water in my cooking pot found the tiny, snakebite-type punctures in the second tube. Again nothing obviously wrong with the tyre and no penetrating debris. A classic pinch-flat, and I could only assume that the (now venerable - it went to Spain and Austria, and miles off-road around Cornwall) was on its last legs.

I managed to patch it with the kit - I had no other alternative! - without too much trouble this time. That made two patches on this tube, and while I had the water-pot rig set up I also patched the other tube (making it 3 patches), just it case this one failed.

I was very sceptical that I'd be able to find an open bike shop on Sunday in Hungerford, a charming but little town. I resolved to buy lunch there, and if my tube had failed already I'd consider taking the train or phoning Jonny for a rescue.

Mending the tube under somewhat better conditions than last night. I should have done this at the youth hostel really. Karma for stealing garlic bread instead!

Tyre reinflated, I zipped through Hungerford, pleased to see it was holding up, but rather surprised that not only was there certainly no open bike shop, Hungerford lived up to its name when I couldn't see anywhere obvious to get lunch. I ended up simply stopping at the petrol station on the edge of town and getting a basic sandwich and lots of high-calorie snacks.

Actually the tyre was holding really well, and after a little dithering I decided to go for the next stretch. This again involved a long climb up other a set of exposed highground, the Lambourn Downs, before climbing the Ridgeway where I could descend directly to East Hendred, the little village outside Wantage in the Thames valley that would lead to Oxford.

Climbing up to the crossing of the M4 I had great conditions and started to feel confident again.

Not sure what's happened to this bike route sign. Nice of someone to try to "reconstitute" it though

Your author, a little weary but still going at this point

Crossing the M4. Big roads approaching London!

As I descended to the Lambourn valley I heard a mighty rumble of thunder, and started to really peg it on the main road. I could see the spire of the church in the village of Great Shefford a kilometer or so ahead, and really wanted to get shelter so I could eat my lunch in dry clothes.

I almost made it - it started coming down even heavier than before about a minute before I got to the village. I couldn't see the church anywhere, but better than that there was an excellent covered bus shelter. I hopped the bike onto the curb, rode across the grass and straight into the shelter, just as another peel of thunder run out and the road came down in earnest.

Starting to darken again as I neared the Lambourn valley

Made it! You can see my tyre tracks in the grass from where I directly *rode in* to the empty shelter. Is there any cosier feeling than getting to shelter just as the rain comes down?

As I ate my lunch I was amused by this local society: I don't know if the Great Shefford cheese club comes under sports or social, but it sounds fun. All you need is a piece of cheese!

While I was very glad to have shelter, what then followed was over an hour of frustration. I could not leave! Every time I did, another loud rumble would come from the sky and it would start tipping down. I could stay in that shelter indefinitely: there sure as hell wouldn't be any buses coming - but I was conscious of my dodgy tyres and getting to the campsite before dark.

At one point I actually told the thunder gods to "give it a rest" when it started to rumble as I was getting ready to go again. Byronic or peevish? You decide!

It didn't stop - eventually I left, in just the conditions pictured above. I then had to ride a bit on the - pretty bad - A338 towards Wantage. Cars were really courteous, even pulling right over to avoid splashing me (it made no difference, I couldn't get any wetter) - though they were a bit freaked out that I was riding in these condition.

The roads started to seriously flood. I'd seen this before driving on this road, but never cycled it. At one point cars were turning back, and I rode through a foot of water and immersed my drivetrain and feet. It was quite sketchy.

The good old Shift kept on running. And the tyre stayed up. What a loyal dependable bike, ridden and maintained by a fool!

I don't have many photos of this stretch. By the time I got to Farnborough and braced myself for the climb - off road! - the only good way over the Ridgeway that avoided the main roads, conditions had mercifully cleared.

The Ridgeway tracks turned out to be gravel, slightly slippery chalk - and just fine! Excellent riding

The top of the Ridgeway. Getting a little misty now

I sogged down the track into East Hendred, where I was followed by cars too nervous to overtake me (courteous and better than the alternative, but can be a little annoying). Then it was a slightly sketchy ride on the main road to the campsite.

Muster Point campsite is really excellent. It's quite rustic - no bright lights etc - but is pretty well equipped, with an honesty shop (which I made great use of) and proper coffee machine. It was about 6pm when I arrived, the friendly warden came to the shop when I rung and showed me the ropes. He also gave me very detailed info about the farm tracks (which aren't even officially mapped!) going north to Oxford that avoid the main roads - though I was dripping wet and not really concentrating properly, this did turn out to be super-useful.

As I got the tent up it started raining again. Oh man! Anyway, I then showered and distributed my wet clothes against the heater in an attempt to dry them.

Yeah yeah ... Still not forgiven you *sky* for what you did to me today

There were only about 4 other people staying at the campsite, in camper vans and under cover. In contrast to the hostel, they were all effusively friendly, greeting me every time they went over and coming to have a chat. That's more like it!

I thought I deserved a pint after a day like this, so biked back into the historic pub in East Hendred. The lights were on, it was half 7 and I thought I maybe could even get hot food. I was wrong - even the bar had closed! Sunday in a small village, oh man.

Instead I biked north, taking the routes in the dusk I had been advised on towards the larger village of Steventon. It really was idyllic cycling now, on sandy lanes off road on a still night. The curryhouse I'd thought might be there was long shut, but to my surprise a co-op (convenience) shop was open. I was straight in there, buying beer and halloumi and other high-calorie foods.

As I left and was stuffing this all in the bar bag (I'd left the panniers at camp), butterfingers here dropped one beer bottle and it smashed. What a fool! I put the glass bits in the bin, and then went back into the coop to buy a replacement. To my utter astonishment he gave it to me for free. I was quite discombobulated by this, as he didn't explain his intention and I kept saying things like "it was totally my fault, just me being clumsy". Incredible.

Then back to camp to cook halloumi, drink beer, and be glad I'd made it. Despite the modest distance, in my homeland, in an area I even kind of knew: I think this was one of the hardest days of bike touring I'd ever done.

Hot drinks at the end of the day make everything ok

Today's ride: 78 km (48 miles)
Total: 388 km (241 miles)

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Comment on this entry	Comment	8

Scott AndersonHats off! You’re of hardier stock than I am, young man.
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1 month ago

Mark BinghamWow! What a day! What an adventure!
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1 month ago

Kathleen JonesChapeau, my man!
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1 month ago

Mark M.I recall that weekend: we were getting absolutely drenched in Chichester, in the kind of rains that might have scared even Noah. You're a brave, brave man. And now I think you should treat yourself to some new goretex 😉
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1 month ago

Jon AylingTo Scott AndersonThanks Scott! I think me being "foolhardy" may be more accurate here to be honest!
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1 month ago

Jon AylingTo Mark BinghamThanks Mark - it really was! I definitely go into these things thinking "this'll be a good story" - that started to wear a bit after the third soaking!
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1 month ago

Jon AylingTo Kathleen JonesCheers!
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1 month ago

Jon AylingTo Mark M.Haha thanks Mark - yeah the word "biblical" did cross my mind a few times that day. Definitely need some new waterproofs, by the end they were keeping more water in than out!
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1 month ago