The first time I went up Leith Hill was one of the most nerve-wracking anticipations ever.
Of all the hills on Ride London, this was the one, this was the most notorious, the one that would skin a bear alive…or so I have been told.
A Leith Hill aside: When we were cubs, my dad used to take us to Leith Hill with the dog. We would park up and then there would be a climb, literally a climb up the side of the hill until you got to the top with the Tower making it the highest point in the South.
So I knew it was tall but, unlike Box Hill, I had never, ever, cycled up the top of it so had no idea whether it was as ‘lethal’ as it was made out to be.
To warm up, I cycled to Ockham from Cobham, an incline that in previous times would see me stopping to catch a breath but was now a fairly gentle double mph ride over to the Muddy Duck then downhill past the pro-greenbelt posters to Ockham then West Horsley.
As I’ve said before, the beauty of where I now lived was that it doesn’t take too long to hit country lanes.
Of course, they bring a significantly higher risk than the urban environment – with speeding cars, far more blind corners and less exit chances - but to see the fields, various kites etc flying overhead and the looming presence of them there hills pleased the soul.
So I popped up at the Epsom road and I could either turn right towards Newlands Corner or go straight over the roundabout towards Shere.
Consulting my phone it looked like I could cut across to where I wanted to go – excellent.
Or not.
You see, what I didn’t know is that that route was a masochist’s favourite. One of those routes that those weird people who love cycling up hills, purposely seek out. Seriously, take a look at them. That stare as they contemplate another ascent, where words like Cols are not swear words, where the descent is not as sort after as the reverse.
As the angle of ascent got steeper and steeper, I seriously thought of turning around and heading over Newlands – For those in the know, I had yet to experience the joys of Newlands Corner yet! – but heart pumping, sweat a sweating, time suspended, legs like lead, I kept going,
As I watched flowers grow, bloom then fade and die – such was the speed I was managing on the ramps – I really thought how the hell was I meant to cycle up Leith Hill. I was an idiot to even consider doing this feat, a grade-A pillock.
Then the hill leveled out and then descended. Oh sh….
Ducking down on the drops, I felt air pressure shoving my face backwoods, wind tearing at my tear ducts, as gravity increasingly pulled me to my doom.
I had thought it was fairly fast on the descent to Leatherhead at the back of Box Hill but this seemed a completely different matter. Realities bent and wiggled in and out of view, each small dent in the road yawned like gaping chasms, the road bending and stretching ahead and around me as the descent continued.
Until, the speed slackened, the wind died down, reality snapping back into shape as the bike hit the level. I had survived.
Following the death descent, I cycled over to Holmesbury St Mary’s, imbued with a renewed sense of vigour and hope. Nothing could be as bad as that climb. After twice checking to see which was my turn-off, I was hit by a massively sharp ramp that quickly dragged me down to the granny gear. But it was short and soon I turned right onto the main ascent.
I was surprised. Very surprised. This seemed even easier than Box Hill. A steady 10mph up to the top and that was that.
Into the warp speed again, internally screaming forgiveness for my pass sins, hoping that my family would be cared for as the background shifted red, I popped out on the Ockley Road…
...again.
I had only gone up the wrong bleeding side of Leith Hill.
So making sure of my route was added to the many things needed for my Ride London armoury, I cajoled my weary legs up over Coldharbour, Dorking, then Box Hill and headed home.
Training ride: 18
34.6 miles
Average speed: 15.6mph
Elevation: 719ft
Training ride: 19
59.1 miles
Average speed: 16.1mph
Elevation: 3,287ft
Total mileage: 721.4 miles
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