Spring is here ?

A lone Nomad writes:

Or at least the daffodils and crocuses (or is that croccii?) have appeared so therefore it is time for daylight evening rides.

Flying solo and making the use of the late afternoon light I headed for the Dyke on Wednesday night. The howling winds were an unpleasant surprise upon my arrival but it was dry so I pushed off heading west. Normally a brisk starting point being slightly downhill unless you run over the drop at the brick ruin I had to pedal hard downhill into the wind. It was too hard so at the Fulking escarpment sign I went south east over the field looking for shelter. Less mud than I expected helped but the wind was a killer. It was not until Cockroost Hill on the way to Mile Oak farm that I found cover from the wind and peace from the noise. Climbing up the bridleway to Southwick Hill is easier now the track has been repaired and the deep mud of yesteryear has been subdued. The run north up the hill with a heavy crosswind was a task and a half. A summer sprint is normally a winter slog but I was completely blown off the track a dozen times including the barbed wire twice and a bush once. I tried tacking into the wind and zigzagging across the track but that only accomplished fouling the derailleur until it jammed. It took an age to reach the gate and the cover of the bushes. Pushing hard through the mud I could not actually get onto the track despite all my efforts as the wind was just too strong. It took me almost 300 metres to force my way onto it and I was trying.

The run up to Freshcombe farm became easier with every extra inch covered but it seemed a long way when you are constantly buffeted by the wind but when I turned back east on the SDW it became a friend.

Without pedalling, I hurtled along the top and flew down the first hill. The climbs were awkward in the crosswind but progress was fast which was important as light was fading fast. I had lights with me but I pressed on hoping to make the first run in months without illumination. It was probably a little foolhardy but I made it back just as the night closed its grasp. Wind is a bigger enemy than rain or snow to the mountain biker making hills steeper and tracks more difficult. I think that Mother Nature must be conspiring with Father Time against me.

If this is spring then roll on summer.