Overnight ride from Cambridge to King’s Lynn on a Brompton

Last Friday, I joined the lovely Friday peeps for a ride that is a firm favourite of many, but one I had never participated in before: Cambridge to King’s Lynn. Now, let me tell you, I had been asked whether I was going on this ride for some time, but as it doesn’t start in London and getting back can take a while longer than usual, I was rather undecided. But, when Dr John and Geoff, two chaps I know all too well, confirmed they were up for the challenge, I thought, “Why not?” So, I signed up and purchased my train tickets.

Setting off earlier than usual felt a tad strange. You see, the norm is a midnight start not far from the London Eye, around 23:30ish. However, I dutifully made my way to King’s Cross station and awaited my train to Ely, where I’d be chugging off to Cambridge. When the train finally appeared on the boards, I stepped onto a decidedly half-empty carriage, which was a pleasant surprise. I later discovered that Dr John meant to catch an earlier train but had ended up on the same one as me, with a few other riders who were also participating.

We arrived just before 23:00 at Cambridge station, where we spotted Geoff perched on one of the platform benches. After an exchange of pleasantries, we made our way outside, gathered for a brief ride briefing, and then promptly set off for the open road shortly after midnight.

We stopped to have a look at the Corpus Clock. It stands outside the Taylor Library at Corpus Christi College. It cost quite a bit, but it is lost on me sadly. It reminded me of something you might see in the shop window of a Bond Street establishment as part of a Christmas thing, more for tourists and influencers to take photos of. 

As we rolled into the depths of the British countryside, the ride had been billed as flat for almost all of the near 80 miles. A claim I had heard many times before on previous rides to all sorts of picturesque locations and always viewed with considerable suspicion. So, when the first few miles proved to be…well…flat, I felt like I had unwittingly walked into some sort of cyclist's utopia.

A big selling point of the ride was how swiftly we escaped the urban sprawl and hit the country lanes. The cycle paths were rather delightful too, with embedded lights beneath the surface popping on like tiny stars when we zoomed past.

As we approached 03:00 in the a.m., we reached Ely, home to its magnificent cathedral. I couldn’t help but think fondly of the book 'Tom’s Midnight Garden', where both the cathedral and the nearby river made appearances. And here I was, in a live version, albeit standing taking more photos of my Brompton than said Cathedral. 

After almost 45 miles in the saddle, we reached the halfway stop - a quaint village hall, rather reminiscent of a place where one might find oneself at a village fete trying to win a goldfish in the coconut shy. We were encouraged to bring along our own sandwiches or whatever we could scrounge up. Fortunately, tea and coffee were readily available, along with an assortment of crisps, cakes, and biscuits - the nostalgia of it all! I felt like a tuck shop of old.

Once we emerged from our little feast, as per tradition, the air suddenly felt a touch chillier. I donned my lightweight waterproof jacket to stave off the morning nip but, lo and behold, a couple of miles later, I was hot enough to shed it. 

Now, if there’s one thing you learn from cycling, it’s to expect the unexpected. One part of our jaunt took us along a rather busy road where cars zipped past with alarming speed. Our ride leader, Claire, had the great idea of splitting us into a small peloton of five riders. The first wave shot off like greyhounds leaving the trap, and a mere 30 seconds later, the second group, which included yours truly, followed suit. Now, while we stuck together safely, I was caught slightly off guard when the first sunrise of the day crept over the horizon. However, it was not the only sort of sunrise one might expect to see!

At this point, I realised I should have worn sunglasses - for not just the potential blinding rays of the sun, but for the unusual, unwanted spectacle occurring mere centimetres from my handlebars: one gentleman in our group had experienced a rather unfortunate wardrobe malfunction. His top had voluntarily hiked upwards while his trousers felt the need to give the world a show of their own by travelling downwards. My eyes! It is not every day one witnesses such an early morning view, I assure you. Fighting back a combination of sniggers and visual discomfort as I pedalled furiously, my concentration wavered. All I kept thinking was, "When on earth are we turning off into a quaint, quiet country lane?" Mercifully, after what seemed like a small eternity, we veered off onto a quieter route. 

For this ride I took my Orange Titanium with me. I did so simply due to the practicalities of all the train journeys and the need for a smaller package, should the trains prove to be busy. Thankfully this was not an issue and I must confess to missing my G-Line a little. 

At almost 06:00 in the a.m., we paused at a little bridge spanning a gleaming river, just as the sun made its gradual ascent into the sky. The glorious hues of dawn had us all enchanted, with many jumping off their bikes to snap picture upon picture.

With the sunrise, I found it easy to appreciate the extraordinary countryside. Bright orange pumpkins caught my eye, a reminder that Halloween was not too far away.

Then, as if orchestrated by some divine wit, we passed a row of properties and a particularly large Rottweiler decided it was time to admit its presence, barking ferociously and displaying an impressive set of sharp teeth. Cycling decorum momentarily forgotten, my right hand shot into a salute against my brow. Simultaneously, I found myself shouting out, “Whey-hey!” to the mighty beast, a most unintentional homage to the late Jack Douglas!! Thankfully, my fellow riders were too busy pedalling to see my embarrassment.

Wind turbines greeted us, standing like majestic sentinels in the windless calm. Surprisingly, the last 12-15 miles passed in a flash - mostly due to the various light-hearted banter exchanged during our ride.

With every good adventure comes a choice: to take the ferry across the Great River Ouse or to cycle over it. Dr John, Geoff and I opted for the ferry, which brought back memories of our earlier escapades when cycling to Burnham-on-Crouch. From a distance, our vessel looked like something one might construct from barrels, wooden posts and ropes at a team-building retreat. When it finally bobbed into view, I embraced the reality and thanked the heavens for not requiring rescue mid-crossing.

Once back on solid ground, the majority of our group headed for breakfast, but I waved my farewells and made my way towards King’s Lynn station. Dr John and a few others decided to do the same, and quite frankly, it was a Herculean effort to remain awake on the train. As we rolled back into King’s Cross, we were half an hour late - an unfortunate end to our adventure, making the journey take almost two and a half hours.

After a quick pit stop at St Pancras for food, Dr John and I exchanged our farewells, and I got on my bike, feeling surprisingly more alert than expected. Home was not too far off; my head filled with the joy of the night's...day’s exploits.

As always, I find myself pondering the question of why cycle through the night? It’s an enigma, hard to articulate. The challenge, the joy of meeting diverse people, reconnecting with friends, immersing oneself in nature, and witnessing the dawn’s awakening - these moments linger. If you want a further explanation, I give my top nine reasons in a previous blog post CLICK HERE.

The ride was pretty much bang on 78 miles and total mileage about 88 including my journey to and from the start. Again, it was a lovely route. Overall, this was a splendid adventure, and lo and behold, it really was flat! Claire, our ride leader, along with her husband (who assisted with preparing for the halfway stop) did a commendable job. I wholeheartedly thank them and those acting as tail end Charlie.

Sadly, there is only one official ride left this year. I’m secretly holding out for a couple more escapades before the year ends - assuming I can convince the usual suspects to join me once more. 

Until next time, stay safe out there people!