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Sunday, 4 may 2008: The Isle Of White Randonnee is an annual event, it circumnavigates the island in alternative directions, alternative years, covers 65 miles, and was seen by the JOGLErs as an ideal opportunity to see how their training was progressing. The route is marshalled, marked by huge blue signs (you cant miss them!) , and has frequent check points / water stops. What nobody mentioned was that the IOW consists of a series of vertical mountain ranges, it would drizzle, Tonger could miss the signs and the bar would be shut on the ferry out!!
The Magnificent Seven set out at dawn, Howie and Tim unable to attend because of other commitments, full of enthusiasm and more than a litttle trepidation. Yarmouth to Cowes was an undulating ride designed to settle the nerves but Cowes onwards started to feel more vertical; it is rumoured that Lance Armstrong resisted the chance to ride the Randonnee because he might not recover in time fior the tour!! At 23 miles came disaster, at least for Tonger, and amusement, for everyone else, as Mickey lost his chain and Tonger, in an effort to avoid the now reversing Mr Tedd dismounted without releasing his pegs (Cycling Teminology folks!!) into the path of the peleton (and again!). Mickey got oily fingers, Duts got a stitch from laughing, and Tonger got a bloody knee and a new nickname, *The Sleeping Policeman"!
On we pressed, up hill and up dale, until Ventnor where we stopped at the top of a hill for a drink of water. As we moved off Tonger lagged behind to finish his stretches (not pretty) and then hurried to catch up, cycled down the cliff into Ventor and then, alarmed at the lack of cyclists or signs, asked a pasing Taxi " Have you seen any bikes mate?". Wrong question. The taxi said "No", then thought a bit and said "Yes, they're all gathering at the seafront". Overjoyed, and aided by gravity, Tonger swooped into town to find he was the only one wearing Lycra. In fact he was the only one without a leather jacket, facial hair, and a Triumph Bonneville! He had crashed the IOW Vintage Motor Cycle Rally and was attracting some rather odd looks, some akin to lust (see Deliverance), and opted for a quick retreat back up Mount Ventnor where he spotted the large blue sign he had missed. On reaching the next check point he caught up with his worried, well slightly concerned, oh alright sleeping, companions most of whom had not realised that he was missing; except Mickey who had cycled 2 extra laps of the IOW looking for him, and Duts who had had 2 extra cigars and another stitch from laughing!
On we pressed and, after one last interminable mountain, at Freshwater, reached the finish line in Yarmouth within 2 days of each other! A quick photo and off to the pub to review the trip! All agreed it was a tough event that showed us what we would be up against in August, and nobody wanted to quit, at least nobody admitted as much!!
We met a cyclist in the pub, who had recently completed the JOGLE (actually he LEJOGed) and gave us some invaluable tips: "It's an epic journey, couldn't have done it without the three rest days, how many rest days have you programmed in?" "Two", we replied, "One at the start, one at the end!" He departed, shaking his head and chuckling. His words warmed us!
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