We did the shorter route because frankly we've got other things to do with our day, and we just like a little challenge and a pleasurable ride. Not having done this route before, we weren't desperately happy with having to share so much of the road with so much traffic - but both of us are confident riders (I commute by bike in Central London, I've been to the top of the track in the velodrome, I know how to stick out my elbows
At the start we met another lady who had never done a sportive before, and she asked our advice. We told her just to take things easy, not to take any risks, but above all to beware of the groups of male riders who were prone to risky overtaking, overtaking too close and cutting in too soon.
Oh the irony of those words.
At the 30 mile point, we were proceeding down a reasonably wide country road, when lo and behold we were swamped by yet another group of male (sorry boys - but it is always you) riders, piling down the road in an amorphous mass - passing us two abreast far too close, cutting in and making life very unpleasant. Apparently if the lead rider shouts 'on your right' this is the signal for the entire group to come so close that you are gradually forced into the verge. On this occasion there was a Landrover Discovery coming in the opposite direction - but none of the group (some of whom one has to suspect were hanging on the back for dear life) wanted to be left behind - so they just carried on despite the fact that at 2 and 3 abreast while overtaking they were in the path of the oncoming vehicle.
Eventually something had to give - experienced group riders would have backed off, called 'car up' and got themselves into single file. But this group weren't experienced, because it's just riding a bike isn't it. So the course of action they took was to swerve left to avoid the car, and unfortunately into the space I was occupying despite the fact that by this point I was yelling at them...
After some substantial tarmac surfing - I came to rest in the middle of the road. The Landrover Discovery stopped as did some other cyclists. I lay there for a little while, because despite the fact I was missing quite a lot of skin I was willing myself not to get up and thump the perpetrator. My friend thinks the bloke who knocked me off stood around sheepishly for a minute. But he didn't stop to help. Or say sorry. Or to make sure I was OK and my bike rideable. He left that to other people while he tootled on up the road to catch up with his mates.
I finished the ride despite the bloody knees, knuckles and elbows - though unfortunately took another tumble when going to the rescue of another cyclist who had fallen off. There were other cyclists who stopped to make sure I was alright, the mechanics were concerned and the first aiders great and a lovely cycle volunteer who got us to the finish. But I missed Chris Froome and then spent 2 hours in the first aid tent.
Am I cross. Yes I am cross (and very sore). Could this all have been prevented - absolutely. Bloody blokes who are inexperienced group riders nee to get it into their heads that they have a responsibility for keeping other cyclists safe and riding in a way that neither endangers or unnerves other cyclists, regardless of their ability levels.
Rant over...