Skyride Southampton

19 July 2015

Commando left the house early on Sunday morning to join his running club buddies. They’d all volunteered to marshal the Southampton Skyride so he’d be standing about most of the day directing cyclists or something similar. After he’d left I sat around for a bit trying to come up with an interesting walk plan. Maybe it was the week of sticky humid weather frazzling my brain but the more I looked at the maps the harder it was to decide on anything.  After half an hour I hadn’t come up with a plan so I decided to go over to town and check out what all the fuss was about.

Of course, my first port of call when I got to the city centre was Costa. Yes, I know I’d hardly earned a coffee at that stage but I figured it might well get pretty crowded once the event kicked off so I’d best get my coffee in while I could. Besides, it was already hot and sticky. Then, with coffee in hand, I strolled up towards the enchanted park. There was just over forty minutes before the proceedings were due to begin so I thought I’d sit in the park and enjoy my coffee before it got too full of cyclists. As I happened, I never did get to sit in the park because I bumped into Commando and a few more runners heading towards the Bargate, resplendent in bright yellow Skyride t-shirts and orange high vis jackets.

They were heading back the way I’d come, towards the precinct, and I fell into step with them wanting to find out what their plan was. It turned out they’d be marshalling the Bargate itself and they were heading to the precinct for a pre event briefing. While they had their briefing I took my now empty coffee cup to the bin then, with a kiss for good luck, I left them in the shadow of the gate to the old town.

There was still about half an hour until the start at Guildhall Square so I thought I’d wander up through the parks and take a look. The fatal flaw in this plan was twofold. There were cyclists whizzing about all over the place so walking through the parks was a touch on the risky side. This led me to walking across the grass, which, in turn, got me a bit distracted by the flowers. The roses in the East Park rose garden had suffered from the heat and were past their best. The ground was littered with petals but scent of roses drew me to them and a few were still photo worthy even if the general effect was decay rather than a riot of colour.

It was a different story when I reached the wisteria arch. In May it had been a mass of pale purple flowers alive with bees. In July I’d expected just the leaves but there were still a surprising number of fragrant flowers, if not bees. The bed behind was a riot of colour with  the yellow rays of inula, pale spiky astranthia just going to seed,  towering globe artichoke and deep orange day lilies. Then there was sea holly, echinops, St johns wort and, of course,  beautiful hydrangea.

With so much to see I forgot what I was in the park for for a moment. When I came to my senses I realised I was never going to get through the growing number of bikes and the maze of temporary fencing in time for the start. In fact, by the time I got across the road to Watts Park they’d already set off and the paths were filled with a stream of cyclists in fluorescent yellow bibs that I’d never be able to get through.

There were so many bikes Whizzing around the cenotaph I didn’t have a hope of getting back out that way so I had to walk across the grass to the other side of the park. Close to the exit to Cumberland Place I stopped by the Lancaster Water Pump that once stood on London Road and was used to wet down the dust. Behind it through the railings and shrubs I could see the mass of cyclists heading up towards London Road. These days it’s all tarmac so doesn’t need wetting down for the most part.

Before I set out I’d checked out the Sky Ride route and knew they’d be heading for The Common. At first I thought I might join them but, when I got to the junction, there were so many bikes I realised the Common would probably be a no go area for mere pedestrians like me. Obviously the sensible thing would be to turn round and see if I could get back through the parks. A big blue tunnel spanned Above Bar Street, there was music and bubbles coming from it and I half wished I had a bike so I could go through. You can’t beat bubbles in my opinion.

It it took me quite a while to find a gap in the bikes and get back across Above Bar Street but I finally made it to the Titanic Engineers Memorial. With a longing look at the blue bubble tunnel I punged back into the park. Of course, by this time I couldn’t use the path at all as the bikes were now out in force but I stuck to the grass.

As I walked the sheer variety of different bikes struck me. There were small children on tiny bikes with stabilisers, bikes with baby seats on the back, flashy modern things that probably cost an arm and a leg and old fashioned bikes with lovely wicker baskets on the front. Of course if I had a bike it would probably be the latter.

Not much ground had been covered but, by this time, I’d been wandering around dodging bikes and taking pictures for almost an hour. During that time Commando and his friends had been standing around in the sun so I thought it was time I went back to the Bargate to see if they needed me to get them drinks or food. When I got there a marshal on a bike was just delivering bottled water to them so at least they weren’t dying of thirst.

Commando was so engrossed in directing traffic he didn’t notice me at first so I stood and watched for a while as bikes came past the old Bargate Centre, round in a loop and up through the central arch of Bargate. A couple of skateboarders had got in on the act, one with a speaker blasting out music strapped to the back of his board. Then there was a strange kind of tandem affair with a little girl on a child’s bike attached to the back of her father’s bike. Commando seemed to be having a whale of a time directing traffic onto the ramp.

Commando did spot me in the end and we had a shouted conversation over the heads of the passing cyclists. He was hungry so I went and got him and one of his friends a burger from Burger King. As I was on my way back I spotted the man with the penny farthing I saw at Riverside Park a while ago. He was wearing the same outfit and pith helmet so I knew it was the same man. He was gone before I had a chance to juggle with the burgers in my hands and get my phone out.
“There were actually two penny farthings,” Commando said as he took his burger, “they might come back round again. It’s only a five mile course and most people are just going round and round.”

I decided I’d give it half an hour, which should be plenty of time for even the slowest cyclist to get roud the course. If he hadn’t come back I’d go and get myself a coffee cooler and think about walking back home. A few minutes later a man came past with a tiny dog in a kind of dog carrier attached to his handlebars. The dog looked as if he was having the time of his life. His fur was flowing back in the wind and I swear he had a smile on his face. Close behind was a man in World War II uniform on what looked to be an authentic period bike. The attention to detail was astounding. He had all sorts of packs and bags and a tin helmet strapped to the back of the bike. He had to be my favourite cyclist of the day.

Quite a few people had small trailers on the back of their bikes to carry babies. These seem to be all the rage, like a pod made of waterproof material with plastic windows and a zipped front to keep out rain. Zipped up they make rather good baby ovens on a hot day and quite a few of the babies seemed less than keen on being towed around in them whilst gently cooking. The parents, riding up at the front seemed blissfully unaware of their child’s screaming. Obviously the sensible parents left theirs unzipped, the others probably had very fractious, headachy babies when they got home.

The penny farthing rider never did come back and I had to make do with two uni cyclists one after the other. After that I went to get my coffee cooler. By then I needed it as I’d been standing in the hot sun for hours. When I came back Commando said he and his fellow marshals were going to take a break and go round the course on their own bikes befire the event finished. That was my cue to set off for home.

Walking around the Bargate I kept watch in the vain hope of seeing the a penny farthing man. There were some of the strange laying down bikes and one with an advertising hoarding but no penny farthings. By the time I’d reached Hundwell Park, where all the stalls selling cycling equipment  were set up, I’d given up hope.

Typically, when you stop looking for something you usually find it and, as I crossed the park there was a penny farthing leaned up against a tree. It wasn’t actually the same one I saw in Riverside Park, this rider was in tweed and a deerstalker. He was teaching people to ride mini penny farthings and asked if I wanted a go.
“I can barely ride a normal bike,” I laughed, “besides, I’m pretty sure my legs are way too short.”

There may not have been a great deal of walking involved but, with the humidity, that was probably a good thing. All in in all it was an interesting day. I saw more bikes than I’ve ever seen in my life before and the whole thing looked like a lot of fun. No so much I’m thinking of getting a bike any time soon though.