Never stopped me dreaming

Well she didn't let me down, 96.82 miles of the Endura Lionheart sportive, based at Longleat. Unlike Charlie, who duly loaded up with the official route, cut out on one occasion and missed three miles of recording.

But that was about the only thing that went wrong with the day. It was almost an impromptu ACG ride, although the Liberator disappeared quite early up the first hill, to be seen later at the finish. Skip and I rode most of the route together, although I struck out on my own occasionally, and it was on my own, there were no groups today.

The main route into the Longleat estate was also the route out for the sportive, meaning we had to get up at stupid o'clock again, and in the gloom of the early start, there was faffing to be done about clothing. Hindsight proved me right almost immediately, as the steep starter climb warmed me up nicely, meaning the ditched warm layer was not missed. We all got off to a good start anyway and I may have caught a glimpse of three lions as I did my early morning lap of the Longleat estate.

And the weather got better, and better, and sunnier and sunnier. I even had a great number, clickety click. The countryside was fantastic too. Somehow, in our congested part of the country, the organisers had managed to find a pretty deserted patch. Apart from nice quiet roads (barring a short stretch of the A303) that is, with great surfaces for the most part.

There are many things that make our country great. Marmite. The Radio times. Early closing days. Stiff upper lips and mustn't grumble (I know, I know, this is aspirational). But I have discovered a constant in my life that I thought had left. Where would this country be without the humble village hall? Harvest festivals, cub scouts, parish councils, youth clubs, teenage parties, cricket teas, and now, sportive feed stops.

It gets better. The Women's Institute supplied us with cakes, in particular the chocolate and banana version. All the cakes had their creator's name by the side, and it is with regret that I can't remember who did my sponge of choice.

To be fair, by the time of the last of the three, yes three stops, I was on water and jelly babies, but I got up King Alfred's Tower without stopping and the last draggy climb called Gare hill.(as in long rather than a male hill dressed as a woman). There is significance in the name though, it was almost certainly the site of a meeting place in Anglo Saxon times, where the local freemen would vote on important decisions, proto-democracy before the Norman Yoke.

Skip has done a great blog on the ride here:

http://www.thecyclingmayor.com/?m=201103

Today I was ravenously hungry and my backside feels like it's been dancing with a cheese grater, oh happy days! It is amazing that despite having done lots of sportives in the past two years it takes a bit of re-acclimatisation to get back into the swing of things. I'm sure I'll be fine by the weekend.

My official time was 7 hours 10 minutes but my cycling time (according to my ever-reliable cateye) was 6 hours 26, reflecting how much time I spent enjoying the landscapes, particularly Fovant Down, sight of the regimental chalk badges, and a traction engine rally in Wilton. There were some fantastic bridges too, I do love a bridge, a lot of today's were those little stone ones over shallow water courses. Very common at the base of chalk escarpments.

So lots to see and do, besides riding my bike. Come to Wiltshire for the day and see history, beauty and listen to the wind, the larks, and not much else.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/74152946