Ships log: "1st Gran Fondo, Some Wrong Turns, and a Brush with the Horse Police"

With the reality of Chase the Sun creeping very slowly closer, I devised a foolproof training plan: a few 30–40 mile rides per month, plus a monthly 100km+ (Gran Fondo, for those who enjoy making long rides sound more sophisticated). Simple, structured, and, most importantly, just vague enough to be adjusted at will.

Armed with my newly acquired winter tyres—far superior to my old summer tyres, even in dry conditions—and a set of mudguards that had already tested the limits of my patience during installation, I set off on my first Gran Fondo of the year: a relatively flat circuit to Cambridge and back.

The ride itself was uneventful, at least until I stopped at the 1st café. Inside, a collection of people were engaging in the great British pastime of extended elevenses, while I, decked out in full winter cycling gear, looked as though I had accidentally teleported in from another dimension. I opted for a cookie and coffee, resisting the siren call of overpriced cake.

Cambridge, as always, was a haven of cycle paths—an alien concept to much of the UK. I rewarded myself with a beef burger from Craft Burger near the station, a decision I initially questioned, as I'd never eaten something so heavy mid ride, but which turned out to be an inspired piece of mid-ride nutrition. Suitably refueled, I took a brief detour past Addenbrooke’s Hospital and the AstraZeneca campus, before getting back to the task at hand: riding home.

Naturally, my route-planning skills (or lack thereof) provided some additional entertainment. A large stretch of resurfacing work forced some creative rerouting, leading to a couple of wrong turns. But eventually, I arrived at Bean Theory Waresley—a vastly superior café experience to the morning's endeavour. Excellent coffee, a much-deserved brownie, and, for a touch of sophistication, a raspberry-lemonade kombucha. Highly recommended. Just be sure to locate the bike stands to the left of the building, unless you enjoy awkwardly wandering around with a bicycle.

And then there was my run-in with the horse road enforcers. As I left the café, I was politely but firmly informed that the main road out was for horses only and that cyclists and pedestrians should use the discreetly hidden track behind the hedge. I apologized in good humor, explained it was my first visit, and even helpfully suggested that a more obvious "Horses Only" sign might prevent future infractions by clueless visitors such as myself. This was acknowledged with the kind of patience usually reserved for those who should already know better.

The rest of the ride was smooth, thanks to a convenient cycle path. I arrived home tired but satisfied, feeling that—diversions, wrong turns, and equestrian law enforcement encounters aside—it was a ride well done.

One Gran Fondo down. An unsettling amount of endurance still ahead.