London to Brighton

After a somewhat hectic couple of weeks, one half of team Tuffcall, decided it was time for the annual pilgrimage to Brighton. Traditionally, this is done in either a snowstorm or a typhoon – good training for Marrakech; but this year the weather gods were on our side.  Judging by our condition caused by the night before and indeed on the morning itself, they obviously decided we needed a little help.

The usual 7:30am start tuned into the usual 09:30 start and armed with one of Chris’ usual useless set of directions we headed off into West Sussex.

Navigating by pubs, we turned left at the Three Kings, right at the Plough, until finally we left hectic London and entered the tranquil English countryside.  Yep, we were lost.  The Shovel and bucket had been tuned into a nail bar and we had missed a turning.

Tuffs was in dire need of food and fortune was indeed on our side.  A small store come off licence came into view and we duly entered.  Two MAMILs in your shop is probably enough of a shock for any shopkeeper but to hear them discussing the merits of jelly babies over wine gums was probably too much.  I’m sure they thought we were ranting in some strange language and probably plotting some foul deed which needed copious amounts of sugar based products, The police were of course summoned, but we explained out way out of the police car.

Fuelled by Rowntrees  finest and a large selection of chocolate confectionary we headed of in search of hills, well actually by now, beer was most definitely on the agenda. Energy bars, energy drinks etc.  are all very good in their own right but when you are in the zone, only jelly babies or at a push fruit pastilles will do.

The route developed a theme, climb  a hill, curse, go down the other side and proclaim that it wasn’t too bad.

Eventually, the Dyke entered the line of vision.  Only Devils Dyke stood in the way of the beach, the traditional burger on the beach and most importantly of all, Red Stripe on the beach.

For those who have ever cycled or contemplated cycling to Brighton, the mere mention of Devils Dyke can instil fear into the rider. Well, it’s not actually too bad. The bit that is really annoying, is a house called HighPoint.  You could be forgiven for thinking that you had ascended the notorious Dyke and could then roll into Brighton. Well, it’s not.  It’s not even half way! Every year I take his / her sign and throw it in the bin and every year they mount another one.  This year I am writing to Brighton and Hove Council demanding the house is renamed.

Soon afterwards, we arrived in Brighton and were created to lovely sunshine.

Thank you weather gods for not throwing at us rain, hail and the usual snow.

Being creatures of habit, we found our usual watering hole, had our usual burgers and beer and promptly   fell asleep on the train back into London.



For those who enjoy stats, I cycled 125km at an average speed of 23km/h, ate two packs of jelly babies, a mars bar, a bottle of lucozade, a rather mediocre burger and two pints of red stripe.

I believe, we climbed a max gradient of 16.5% and effectively cycled 1/4 of the Ouka.

Arrived tired, but relieved the training had finally started


Segment Stats

4.2 km
Elev Gain:
124 m
Elev Change:
70 m
Avg Grade:
1.7 %
Max Grade:
16.7 %
Climb cat:
Min Elevation:
114 m
Max Elevation:
184 m

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