Hackney to Dunwich Beach overnight.
Twenty two of us turned up for the 7pm feeder ride from Cutty Sark Gardens on the baking Saturday 12 July when the local temperature hit 28 degrees. Some went through the Greenwich Foot Tunnel early to use the lifts before they closed. The 5.5 miles to the start at the Martello Street Pub on the Park by Hackney’s London Field’s went up the Isle of Dogs, along Canary Wharf riverside past the Saturday evening eaters, round Limehouse Basin and up the Regents Canal to Broadway Market and London Fields. Sam was amazed at the quietness and variety of the route, so little was on road. She’d come up from her Dartmoor home that afternoon. Her 40 mile a day round trip commute meant she was more than dynamo-ready.
We got to the Pub on the Park around 8pm. Bikes were everywhere already. I set up office on a bench outside and started allocating the bus back tickets. The usual variety of bikers were there….mostly hybrids and road-bikes, but a few folders, six or so recumbents, a couple of tandems…mostly the usual very self-sufficient crew that included three dailyride 16 year olds from St Pauls School Hammersmith who’d dragged their much less fit music teacher along too.
Patrick (http://www.londonschoolofcycling.co.uk) Field’s route sheets started going round and people started drifting off from about 8.30pm but the main pack left at 9.20pm to fiddle up packed Mare Street in a slightly nervous string……don’t leave me….Then it was up the Lea Bridge Road after a brief detour round a taped-off crime-scene on Lower Clapton Road. The bikes accelerated up the A104 through Epping Forest and London started to slip away. Lots of loud souped up boy-racers in bad cars round here and big bouncers outside big roadside pubs. At around 14 miles out many stocked up at a garage. One of few punctures was fixed. Perfect warm evening.
Epping itself was the first village. The ride was very strung out now. Bunches of rear-light flashing riders visible far ahead. About one in ten seemed to be navigating or know the way. And suddenly there’s more plants than building. More villages. Dunmow, Leaden Roding, Great Dunmow…we hit Suffolk 60 miles out. Sudbury. We all started dreaming about the food stop. There were loads of stars, a few bats, and tomorrow's full moon was shining bright in a clear sky. Only once did I nearly fall asleep.
The village hall at Great Waldingfield opened at 1am 64 miles out. The last few miles there took ages. Just over half-way. Friends of Patrick doing the very laid back catering. As much vegetarian goulash and cous-cous salad as you can eat for £3.50 with tea, coffee, squash and very fine flapjack thrown in. I got there about 3.45am not feeling too clever. (My rear derailleur had somehow packed up spring-wise and I was stuck with only two gears. If I tried to change more, the chain jumped off. Several much better mechanics than me tried to fix it…..new arm needed). There were probably 50 riders in there in varying tired states. A few were even napping in sleeping bags. Most of us thought that sleep now would not help a bit. The food was just right and so so welcome. That stop is just over half-way…but later feels more like two-thirds. The birds were waking fast.
Eight of us left together around 4.30am. It was now just chilly enough to put a light jacket over t-shirts. The fields were under light dew and looked just perfect. Around 4.50am the sun rose on our right…….a magically clear sunrise that gave all of us a huge lift. A new day. All along the route we overtook or were overtaken by odd bunches…..there were very few other vehicles about and those there were were visible a long way off. Now and then approaching headlights were very blinding, the batteries on my little LEDs lasted all night. The whole route was much less flat than I’d remembered. More hills or less fit?
At 116 miles, and at 8.05am, the 4 of us got to Dunwich Beach….the last few miles went on forever and the sudden change to sandy soil and heath lands didn’t distract for long. It was very warm now. Bliss. The Flora Tearooms had opened specially for us at 6am..and served the 3 5.30am arrivals at once. By 8.05 there were probably 100 bikes there.
I went straight into the cold sea and was jolted wide awake at once. So good to just float there, feel the achievement, get clean. I changed into a shirt and shorts and hit the café for the £4.50 full breakfast and a few coffees. They were cheerfully doing fine trade.
Then back to the pebbly beach. Sand martins everywhere. Cyclists too, all linked by the ride. The dozen couriers had left Hackney at midnight and were baptising their bikes by touching the saddles on the waves. Botticelli. By 10am the shallow water was warmish. It was hot. Day trippers started filling the carpark and picking their way over the beach past dozing bikers. Who are all these hippies? I started issuing/selling coach tickets again. Surprisingly few swimmers.
Someone said pub at 11.50am, so some of us tore ourselves away from the beach and went the 300 yards to it. I rode. The first of our coaches arrived just about then. 50 seater. Harrises. Good. We packed out the pub. Good selection of beers.
At 12.30pm several of us left for the car-park and the coach loading. The second coach and the bike trailer arrived around 12.40pm. Jacksons. Better. 77 seats and around 50 bikes. Two of us started checking tickets and several helped load bikes. We filled the coach boots first with trikes and recumbents. All was going well….more tickets sold. Around 1.05pm I realised that the furniture lorry for the bulk of the bikes was 5 minutes late. My earlier phone calls had just got voicemail. My slight panic was wrong. The lorry arrived. And was great. They’d bought loads of old carboard boxes and packing blankets with them. Hamiltons of Eye. The suspense of waiting for the convoy was exquisite.
By 1.30pm we’d got 103 riders and bikes aboard. Stragglers kept racing up. I checked quickly round……and we left at 1.33pm and gave the day trippers something to talk about. Most bikers snoozed at once. I sat upstairs on the big coach and loved that grandstand view of the roads into London over the Lea, past Canary wharf, down the Limehouse Link and onto Embankment. Unloading was easy. The 2 coaches arrived together, as they left the lorry slid in.
Lots of goodbyes followed…..and no grumbles at all, except for one lost bungee cord. About a dozen of us went for beers at Gabriel Wharf.
The end.
Some of the anecdotes…….
Patrick Field thinking he’s finally lost it as he chuntered along alone on his recumbent in the middle of nowhere and hear disconnected voices in the darkness…8 totally unlit couriers gliding up fast behind him.
The bunch of 15 who stopped spellbound at 4am as the mist glowed on the lake.
The 12 noon Sunday call from someone who is still 2 hours away…will we wait…..sorry, No.
The biker on the beach who had no idea when the coaches left, and wanted the time bought forward by two hours.
The 2pm call almost half an hour after the coaches left so visibly……I was in the carpark loo, can you come back for me? Sorry, no.
The 3pm call from someone I was worried about…he’d got very lost somewhere, guessed that Station Road might lead to one, road down it for ages and ended up 30 miles off route in Cambridge.
The two sweepers from Bikefix who didn’t need to sweep anyone.
The cheery candles in jamjars for the middle 40 miles.
The three who headed off back to London by bike at 9.30am…..they made it the 50 miles to Sudbury, but others would have done the whole 240 miles.
That music teacher who tired the Dunwich organ and got stopped by the Church warden.
The now 12 year old on the back of her dad’s tandem for the second year running.
The Flora’s home made dough-nuts.
The 8 who reserved seats, never paid, never turned up.
The 6 who paid, and never turned up.
The only smash I heard about……someone rode smack into an unlit temporary traffic light sign. He came off, no damage to him or bike.
Me not being tough enough to insist on my own £12 until 1 July, then £20 price hike to push early bookings.
The lorry company who at 1pm on the Friday before phoned to say that all their drivers had gone sick, and put the phone down when I tried to argue.
The 14th lorry company who I phoned that worried Friday afternoon…..who told me to stop fretting and charged me what the original would have done. Company number 8 tried to charge double.
I’ve lost my gloves, longs and two maps…can you phone the pub/village hall/café/coach company for me?
Sad, so much road kill. Rabbits I can cope with. Hedgehogs, aaahhhh.
Happy, “this is the best bike ride I’ve ever done” said a smiler on the beach.
Happy, loads of very pleased bikers.
And the 6 emails the next morning saying thanks.
Numbers: who knows. We guess about 220 started the ride. Almost all finished. More than usual found their own way home.
Next one: Saturday 31 July 2004. My fifth.
As someone once wrote…
What is the Dunwich Dynamo?
It's a barely organised, turn up and go 120 mile overnight on-road bicycle ride. It's not a race. It's unsupported, no van following. It's a long way for most of us, and there may be times when you, for a split second, wish you were tucked up in bed. But not for long, you'll love it.
BAM
14 July 2003