Header image courtesy of NeilTaylorMedia
Salisbury Plain in the south-west of England is perhaps best known as a military training ground. Rachel Sokal headed down there to find out whether a gravel bike would be a more appropriate choice of ‘vehicle’ than a tank.
Much of Salisbury Plain and the North Wessex Downs is part of the large area of exposed chalk that lies across southern England. Over millions of years, the chalk has eroded to form rolling hills and exposed valleys with steep sides. Impregnated throughout the soft dull chalk are nuggets of bright and shiny flint which have been formed from mineral deposits in the limestone. In the dry, this chalky ground produces hard and fast trails, perfect for a gravel bike adventure. In the wet however, the chalk turns into a sloppy, slippy mess that’s generally best avoided. The problem of course is that British summer weather doesn’t always play nicely and what should be perfect conditions can turn into slop just when you don’t want it to.
Despite the big and picturesque nature of the Salisbury Plain landscape, it didn’t feature on my list of “places to go and do a big ride”. It certainly didn’t jump out when I was looking down the long list of Glorious Gravel’s organised events - those in the Lake District, Scotland or Wales were far more appealing. However, for various reasons, I dismissed each of the other events and this made me realise that Salisbury Plain was a perfect choice.
As it was not an area I knew well and I didn’t know where to start looking for the best gravel trails, the chance to try out Glorious Gravel’s Salisbury Plain Gravel Epic was perfect. It gave me the ideal opportunity to ride trails where someone else has done all the route research leg work and where they were also going to provide me with snacks along the way.
The massive choice of events is something that Glorious Gravel do really well – they have a complete mix of locations and difficulties from hilly epics in Wales and Scotland to those orientated to less experienced riders in more accessible locations in central England. There are longer events too, including multiday rides in the UK and overseas. Even the fussiest of riders with the busiest diaries will be able to find something to suit.
Each of the UK day rides has at least two distances to choose from - the Salisbury Plain event had 80 km and 130 km options. Given that it was still quite a schlep for me to get to the start, I went for the long-distance option, so the ride would meet my “ride must last longer than the journey” criterion. I’ll take any excuse for a bit more riding.
However, my enthusiasm for any ride, let alone one of 130 km, drastically waned towards the end of the week running up to the event. Even by the UK’s [pretty dismal] standards things were wet - on the day before the ride there was more than a month’s worth of rain in 24 hours and the forecast for the day of the event was awful. As I arrived near the venue and parked up for the night, the wind was howling and the rain was beating down on the side of my van. It was hard to believe it was mid-July. The only comfort I could take was I’d rather be in a country suffering this extreme than further south in Europe, where temperatures were exceeding 40oC.
Fortunately, by the morning of the event, most of the rain had cleared away and the forecast for the day ahead looked much better (or should I say less worse..?). I also felt reassured by the messages from the organisers. They’d been out during the day – in the torrential rain – to recce the route and make some changes given the state of some of the trails. I’m not sure whether I was more impressed by the level of organisation or the tenacity to ride in those conditions.
I did wryly chuckle to myself as I wiped away the existing dust from my bike, fitted my winter mudguards and stuck a bottle of wet chain lube into my pocket, ready to recoat my freshly waxed chain.
With my number board attached to my bike, I rolled up to the start. There was a sense of purposeful determination in both the faces of the riders and the heavy clouds overhead. At least Rich from Sonder had offered to lend me the use of his jet wash after the ride, once he’d done cleaning the hire fleet that is.
Within a km or two of the start, we started climbing over the Plain. As well as the distinctive geology, this area is also characterised by its use as a military training zone. The tracks and bridleways run through and over land which is littered with warning signs not to wander off the trails. Should the abundance of signs not have been enough, a tank on exercise crossed the junction ahead of me just to emphasise the point. It wasn’t long until it was out of view (way faster than I could get to the junction and get my camera out). Only its heavy track marks and rumbling noise remained.
Surprisingly, bar the odd oversized puddle/small trail pond, the riding conditions were initially remarkably good, with trails benefitting from the fast-draining geology. As we settled into the day, riders started to alternate between chatting to one another and hunkering down out of the wind as someone else took a turn on the front.
With four feed zones spread evenly throughout the route, each was a good measure of progress. The first came as a pleasant surprise, a measurable chunk of the ride done, without incident or a downpour. Even the chap who missed the turnoff for the shorter route didn’t seem too bothered as he cheerfully welcomed the opportunity to ride a bit further.
But, not long after that, the rain came. And persisted. And persisted some more. I simultaneously commended myself on fitting my mudguards and cursed myself for wearing baggy overshorts which were now dragging themselves down my legs. Nevertheless, I had a little tree cover and was making decent progress trucking along an old railway line.
It wasn’t much further along the Ridgeway that conditions changed again and I was reminded that the best way to ride wet chalky trails is to not bother at all. In all honesty, this muddy section was so slippery that it was pretty comical - more akin to watching people compete on a bizarre TV gameshow than a bike ride. Riders who opted for MTBs were faring better, although they did suffer from a much greater filth factor than those of us on skinnier tyres.
And let’s not forget those little pieces of flint hiding in the slop. At least I was lucky enough not to be trying to fix a slashed tyre sidewall on a filthy tyre…..
After a quick stop to marvel at the ancient Sarsen stone circles at feed station two, the route turned south. Even though we still weren’t quite halfway, we were now on our way back from the furthest point of the ride. And all went well for a while until I realised that I must have missed feed station three. With bottles long empty and snacks all gone, I dug out my emergency caffeine gel from the bottom of my tool pack and hoped for the best. It was a gift from the gods - the wind dropped to reveal the sound of skylarks diving through the wildflowers across the Plain. The trail was hard and fast and soon after I happened across an oasis of building with an outside tap and gleefully refilled my bottles. I even managed to meet back up with a rider who I’d been chatting to on and off and we took turns on the front making good headway to the final feed station.
A tailwind and the knowledge that the end was in sight made for an enjoyable last hour of riding. I even felt confident enough to give away my spare inner tube to a rider whose tyre had suffered a flinty-fate. Rolling into the finish with riders of both the medium and long courses, we were greeted by a finisher’s medal and (alcohol-free) beer.
Both my bike and I were absolutely filthy. The chalk had now dried and hardened to form a cast of my legs and drivetrain. On the upside, my decision to fit my mudguards was vindicated as I was a whole lot less filthy than those that hadn’t.
The only slightly sad note about the event was the small proportion of female riders taking part. The timing page showed there were just 55 women riders out of over 350 total participants there on the day. Those that I chatted to were a real mix – some, like me, had left the other half at home and come on their own, others were riding with their partner or friends, some were experienced riders while others were not. There’s nothing obvious about the event that would deter women – certainly, none of the women I spoke to had anything negative to say. Perhaps it would be worth the organisers putting in place measures like reduced entry fees or women’s led groups to actively encourage them to take part in future events instead?
All in, and that includes the duff weather and wet ground conditions, Glorious Gravel put on a great ride and I’d definitely look to be doing more of their events in the future. The organisation is really impressive - the WhatsApp group to update riders on details and changes and the last-minute alterations to the route to account for conditions are just a couple of examples. The well-stocked feed zones (with toilets!) and bike hire options are admirable too. Given the choice of events, you’ll be hard-pressed to not find one that suits you. And even within each event, there’s a choice of distances and a big range of riders taking part – skinny elite whippets, high-end ebike speeders, novices on MTBs, old and young, big groups of friends, couples and those who’ve come on their own. Definitely something for everyone.