My legs were still tired after last Friday, and psychologically I was at a disadvantage, however we got to the bottom on Bratton and pushed on up through the village. My legs were burning by the time we met the main road where we had a 2 minute break and then set off up to the top of the White Horse.
Gosh what a climb! Half a mile of constant, unforgiving climb. Purser set off in front, I put it in 5th gear and stood up for the first bit. As soon as it levelled off a touch I sat down in 2nd gear, then stood up again for the steep part which was actually most of the hill. The killer was a really steep bit that you could see from almost the bottom of the hill, but once this was done you round a corner and there is another, even steeper bit, which takes you right to the top.
I made it. Purser was there and snapped a photo of me groaning and puffing and panting past. We both agreed that if it wasn't for the fact that we were both there we would have stopped :D. But we didn't, we made it, and what an achievement it is! Back home I had done 22 miles.
Here's me, trying to suck in all the air in Wiltshire as I got to the top...
And here's Purser and I at the top - taken by Purser on timed photography (he even had the energy to sprint across the road in the 5 second timeout)...
However, now back at home, my legs are killing me. Still, a medicinal beer is helping with the pain. Next cycle is probably going to be Tuesday (last skittles game of the season), although I might do a shortie tomorrow evening to keep the engine in working order.
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