(Monday 31th July 2023)
First job of the day is to get a grip, AKA visit a bike shop and swap my split, City Slicker tyre for something with some knobs on. Offcamber Bikes is just around the corner, and they are incredibly awesome. Despite a stack of bikes awaiting work, they find time to fix me with a set of tubeless knobbly bobblies (Cinturato Gravel Classics). These guys are Heroes 🦸♀️!
Today’s route is not as hilly, but there’s still some climbing, so we make sure to dodge round Hodhill (144m) while we’re still settling our breakfasts. The route shadows the River Stour before turning east and rising~150m into Shaftesbury. Three of us miss the first turning, and end up powering the slippery slabs up to the hilltop town’s church made famous in the Hovis bicycle ad .
Obvs, there’s a cake stop here (trip cake+: days travelled tally now 4:2, and a chemist stop; one of our party stung through his helmet by a wasp(?)). Then I get to test the knobbly tyres on some fantastic CX down through the woods from Shaftesbury. We whisk up the chocolatey puddles into milkshake. It’s not dissimilar to the chocolate lake in Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Cholate Factory (If we’re lucky, there’s the chance of a washing machine at the next stop!).
Grinning with joy as we whiz past Great Hanging (the good ‘ole days eh?) then over the border into Wiltshire (also home of Honey Knob Hill, Old Sodom Lane, and Ram Alley). A stiff climb on loose gravel takes us up White Sheet (242m), then with a tail wind, and slight downhill, we glide across classic chalk tracks to Chiselbury (204m; so not just my dad who mislaid his tools…).
A fun descent into Wilton follows, another carpet classic with a twist. Our cafe of choice is no longer serving lunch, and despondently turned our custom away (a sign on the door revealing the business is for sale). We cross the square where parking motorists are yelling obscenities at each other, and find sanctuary in the welcoming (newly re-named/ownership?) Cuckoo cafe. Wilton is a bottleneck for the A36, and heavy, angry traffic charges continuously just outside the cafe windows. But the food is yummy😋
We follow the valley, and mercenary A36, to Great Wishford. It is a relief, and minor miracle, to survive the nose-2-tail road traffic, and we peel off for Chain Hill (142m) along a bridle way, with blackberries at the top.
Crossing more chalky paths, with wild flower meadows, the sun actually peaks out for long enough to flint on the tyre sealant hissing from my front tyre. The Sealant Gods are lenient on me today and the puncture heals quickly, although a slow puncture continues to be an issue for Cal. And his wasp bite is still swelling…
Over a small rise and there are The Henges. Bit bigger than I was led to believe from my youth at Spinal Tap concerts…
But incredulous to believe that we treat such an amazing site with such rudeness!
Thick traffic crawls past on the nearby road, and a multitude of vans, wagons and vehicles line a long, rutted siding for parking.
We’re not hanging about to be depressed by the horrors here, and speed on across Salisbury Plain, a famous active military range.
No shooting today thankfully, but some faffing with punctures, and the wasp stung Cal has taken on the appearance of the Elephant Man. We slither down deep clay-filled ruts, like hippos in a luge, then pass through villages inc the elaborately named Etchilihampton, before a ride over a monument Hill, arriving at the Bear Hotel in Devizes (with Wadworth’s 6X promised…).
We’re packing light, washing our cycling kit out each night and wearing it again each morning. If we’re lucky, there’s the chance of a washing machine at the next stop!
