We are just back from a weekend riding gravel in the New Forest and the Isle of Wight. Here’s how we got on…

It seems my cycling trips this year are destined to be gravel-focussed, possibly because it enables activities based around bikes rather than bike based activities. Earlier this year we spent a long weekend in Belgium exploring WW1 battlefields, a trip that has encouraged thoughts of Normandy next year for some WW2 history.

Between that trip and this the Moles visited the French Alps for some MTB (Tony managed to break his collarbone!), Stuart indulged in a Manche to Mer road trip the length of France, MarkC managed a week of road riding in the Dolomites while Elliot and Clive spent a week of gravel riding around Girona in 30°C temperatures.

And between all that, we’ve been hammering in the MTB miles at home on some great trails on Ranmore and Mickleham. In short, it’s been a memorable summer of riding, unless you were Tony!

All this preamble is to say when Gordon kindly proposed a late September FAIG (Forest and Island Gravel) weekend as an excuse for a sociable evening of food and drink bookended by some cycling, I was interested.

Gordon was at pains to point out that he didn’t organise anything. All he did was indicate he would be riding from Brockenhurst on Day 1 before crossing to the Isle of Wight for a ride on Day 2 and people were welcome to join him.

That may be so, but Lloyd, Elliot, Clive, MarkJ and myself were happy to go along with Gordon’s disorganisation (which extended to full GPS maps of each day) and book rooms for Saturday night at The Huntsman Pub and Hotel in Brockenhurst.

An eventful Saturday

Actually, my week prior to Saturday was eventful too.

I was dismayed to find my gravel bike had an air leak around the valve on my most recent commute to work, so decided to investigate before getting stranded in the middle of the New Forest. I ended up taking the rear tyre off four times, changing valves, adding some extra tape round the valve hole, topping up with fluid only to find myself no nearer to a fix.

Eventually I ordered new rim tape and rode to Dorking for a couple of spare inner tubes as back up. The rear tyre resolutely failed to stay inflated until the tape fortunately turned up on Friday lunchtime. After cleaning carefully and adding two loops, the wheel aired up with only a track pump and never lost a bead of air from then onwards.

The hassle with the tyre meant it was touch and go getting everything sorted, but the inner tubes were not wasted…

Meanwhile… MarkJ also had bike problems.

I tried to help him fix his gears during the week but his rear derailleur just didn’t have any tension to keep his chain from flapping. We removed two links from it before the ride and tuned the gears to work well enough, but big ring to big ring riding was not going to work. It was a fragile setup.

And then we got to the car park of the Huntsman on Saturday morning.

Things happen in threes

Gordon’s disorganisation meant we all gathered promptly in the car park at 9:30 for a 9:45 get away. Things were looking up, the day was sunny and dry and looked like it would be a nice autumn day.

The first blip on the radar was discovered by Lloyd, who had brought everything he would need for the weekend except his front wheel.

A rapid assessment of the situation led to the conclusion that a unicycle was an impractical option for gravel riding and he would need to return home. Since the accommodation was booked and it was too late to cancel the only thing to do was drive home, pick up his wheel and drive back in order to meet us for our afternoon loop.

Not a great start…

The second slip of the gears occurred when Clive’s car decided it wanted in on the action and locked itself with his keys inside!

Fortunately he had just removed his bike and gear so was able to ride, but he needed his keys for getting home. How fortunate it was that Lloyd could call in at Hindhead and collect Clive’s spare keys from his other half during the course of his front wheel pick up!

Meanwhile, we headed out for our morning loop… which actually went very well.

Light on gnarr but heavy on tree watering, it was a 28 mile figure of 8 around Brockenhurst and Lyndhurst, with a coffee stop outside the Ferrari garage in Lyndhurst. We even managed a look around The Woods Cyclery in Lyndhurst which had both Ritchey and Fairlight bikes in stock. We barely escaped with our wallets intact!

Back in Brockenhurst, we finally met up with Lloyd again for lunch before setting off for another 16 mile loop, this time out on disused railway lines toward Burley. Once again, all was easy riding until…

That third thing happened

It was all going so well. Six bikes, twelve wheels and a gentle afternoon ride ahead of a well earned dinner…

Remember MarkJ’s fragile gears? Well an inopportune moment with six miles to go saw his chain launch itself into his wheel resulting in two broken spokes, a pretzelled wheel, a rapid tyre deflation due to split rim tape and much cursing and swearing!

While we cobbled together a ‘solution’ (a new inner tube and some gaffer tape), Gordon managed to disorganise a phone call to Boost Bike Hub in Brockenhurst to see if they could fashion some repairs.

With not much time to shop closure, we nursed Mark’s bike back to Brockenhurst where Boost Bike fixed up and retaped his wheel, straightened his mech hanger and replaced his rear pads(!) for the price of half an hour of labour. They really saved the day.

The gears were still fragile but in the circumstances, Mark and his bike were back in the game.

The Huntsman

A few hundred yards down the road, our accommodation for the night was The Huntsman at Brockenhurst. A large Youngs pub with some smartly decorated cottage style rooms attached, it was perfect for our purposes if a little limited on menu options. Having learned lessons from Belgium I had a room to myself and slept soundly, disturbed only by the idea of having to get up a little early and the worry of a wet day ahead.

The weather reports for Sunday predicted high winds from the south west and heavy rain late afternoon. I was convinced I could hear it raining during the night but it was just my imagination, running away with me.

Heading to the Isle of Wight

In fact the day started fine and Gordon had even unplanned a route to the ferry at Lymington that was off road. Our crossing was early enough at 8:00am that there were just nine bikes and only five cars making the short trip to the island. One of our first objectives was a cooked breakfast in Yarmouth.

It proved a wise choice.

We headed out of Yarmouth on another disused railway line, headed to the Needles. The climb up to the top of the headland is easy enough with the benefit of tarmac and in the lea of the hill.

As soon as we crested the top though we caught the full force of the gale blowing up the cliffs.

The wind was so strong it was difficult to stay upright or hold a line, the wind pushing the front wheel hard and feeling like it would sweep the bikes from under us.

No tarmac here, just chalk grassland and 500ft of at times brutally steep climbing from Freshwater on the north coast, past the Needles and up to the Tennyson memorial overlooking the south cliffs.

From the Tennyson memorial, a long descent brought us back down to sea level at Freshwater Bay with the unceasing wind snatching at the bikes all the way.

Fragile gears

We climbed back up the other side of Freshwater Bay, alongside the golf course, gaining 480ft over the next mile and a half until… Mark’s gears had another moment!

Jamming abruptly, Mark clearly thought it was game over. We thought it was game over. Circling back, I was thinking we would be reading the last rights to his bike and wondering where Mark would get the petrol from to set fire to it.

Wonder of wonders though – no damage had been done and the bike still worked… the journey continued even if nerves were jangling.

On we went, climbing long, long ascents up to around 700ft at one point before dumping all that height in a few short minutes. I was a little thirsty but had a rhythm that suited me and my bike.

The hardest climb was from Bowcombe Road for about half a mile, which got to about 18% gradient in places on slippery chalk. I walked briefly but was fine after that and starting to wonder why 3 and a half hours after we started we still hadn’t had a coffee stop!

And for his next trick…

Of course with a weekend of 80+ miles and six riders, something (else) was bound to go wrong. It just so happened, it was MarkJ’s turn again!

Shortly after passing the highest point of the day at about 760ft, Mark double punctured.

The first puncture was a simple rear puncture that was the direct result of the day before, where we had been forced to use an inner tube. The puncture would have sealed without even being noticed in a tubeless set up.

The second was a slash to the sidewall at the front which needed an inner tube too, as it was too big to seal.

Both punctures could have happened to anyone really it’s just that this weekend, it was Mark’s turn. Thank goodness I’d bought those inner tubes!

Please [name of deity], some coffee!

We got back underway and I could sense flagging energy levels and the hint of mutiny for coffee and cake. Gordon had unplanned a stop at Chessel Pottery which hit the spot at just past the right moment, but we were soon cheered with some decent coffee and cakes.

We then had a decision to make – Yarmouth and the ferry back to Lymington were 4.5 miles away and time was pressing on. With hourly sailings and the threat of heavy rain we decided to try and get the soonest ferry we could.

What followed was our fastest effort of the day, downhill with the wind behind us for the first time. We covered the distance in a about 17 mins.

By the time we hauled ourself back up to Brockenhurst from the ferry the first squalls of rain were coming in. I won’t be riding that A road again, too busy with cars and the off-road option is far nicer, but it got the job done.

Overall, we managed about 44 miles for the Saturday ride and 43 for Sunday, bringing our weekend total to 87 miles.

It was a more eventful than expected but good fun unless you were Mark or his bike, but ‘thems the breaks’. I enjoyed the level of challenge and much enjoyed everyone’s company.

Thanks to all and in particular to Gordon for his disorganisation!

About the author

Matt is one of the founding Molefathers of the Muddymoles, and is the designer and main administrator of the website.

Having ridden a 2007 Orange Five for many years then a 2016 YT Industries Jeffsy 29er, he now rocks a Bird Aether 9 and a Pace RC-627.

An early On-One Inbred still lurks in the back of the stable as a reminder of how things have moved on. You can even find him on road bikes - currently a 2019 Cannondale Topstone 105 SE, a much-used 2011 Specialized Secteur and very niche belt drive Trek District 1.

If you've ever wondered how we got into mountain biking and how the MuddyMoles started, well wonder no more.