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Freewheeling down a long hill is one of the great pleasures of life, good times distilled into a handful of seconds. A steeper slope and faster speed add a shot of adrenalin to the pleasurable cocktail. Riding downhill is a miracle of weightless, noiseless, effortless travel and the closest most of us come to experiencing the thrill of flying without actually donning a parachute and jumping out of an aeroplane. But there is a catch: what goes down must also go up. And riding a bicycle uphill is, at the very least, an acquired taste. On the flat the bicycle is a miracle machine, a magic carpet that multiplies a modest effort into near effortless speed. On a climb, the tables are turned. It is the bicycle that makes demands of the rider. Suddenly the miracle machine is a dead-weight burden to bear. Yet there are times when the climb is an experience of sublime exultation and perfectly measured effort. Every rhythm, from beating heart to heaving lungs to pumping legs and spinning pedals, comes together in a single symphony of ascent. Be it in a state of grace or of grim determination, the most immediate reward of a climbing a hill is the same: it’s over. The relief is dramatic and instantaneous. The all-consuming struggle fades quickly into memory. There’s time to pause, take in the view, and get ready for the real fun, the descent. The W ild Weald (R ide N o. 7 ) The crinkly, wooded hills of the Weald are a veritable roller-coaster: when the road is not going up, it’s going down. This ride takes in Kidds Hill, tellingly known as ‘The Wall’, a favourite hill climb among local cyclists.
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Box Hill, Ride No. 11
Military Road, Ride No. 15