Going deep at Debenham

It wasn’t the most settling of starts to my first race day of 2023 to find a crack in the frame of my trusty ‘best’ (read ‘only’) carbon framed racing bike on the morning of the event… And it was equally disconcerting to then have to consider that the only way I could confidently make the start line of the Orwell Velo Renny Stirling Memorial TT would be astride my recently purchased; hub geared; mudguard adorned; Schwalbe Marathon Plus shod; distinctly un-race-esque ‘winter’ bike…

Trepidation did not quell as I nervously shuttled betwixt garage and car, going through the half forgotten routine of ensuring all necessary accoutrements (pump/shoes/helmet/lights/spare cluster of safety pins/rising feeling of dread that I’d forget something) would join me on the drive up to Suffolk. This was thanks to the battering winds which, although easing from 40+ mph in the early hours, were still relentlessly gusting in from the west. For a course which features long stretches to the north and to the south, this was not good news….

At signing on I was informed that, of the 21 entered riders, a handful had decided not to deign us with their presence and so I would be ‘last man’. “When you see each marshall, tell them you’re last” were the encouraging words of the start line timekeeper as he counted me down…

Given the conditions, there was something of a silver lining: thanks to the adoption of a 20mph speed limit, the village at the furthest part of the route was now off limits for racing. And so, our 20TT had been truncated somewhat.

The Debenham course is fantastically sporting and thankfully the shortened version retains all of the best parts. From the start facing east the road turns sharp left, drops steeply and then winds northwards through to a 90 degree left turn less than a mile from the start. Here the road rears up, then continues to rise and then undulate southwesterly with little cover. Given the prevailing wind, this meant the first 10 minutes of my race were sheer purgatory, with the soundtrack of my heart pounding out through my ears underlining how hard I was having to push.

Coming through the village of Pettaugh, where the minor road from Debenham turns left to become the slightly more significant A1120, it was ‘almost’ like a switch had been flicked. Suddenly the winds which had battered my side and face were at my back. How ironic that this was the case on the most sheltered part of the course… Here the road winds and undulates steeply, including one section of 12% ascent, but I was pleased to be able to punch up each short climb with what felt like reasonable strength.

Onwards and the tarmac becomes a little draggier as it follows the course of a Roman road and then drops to the second turn on the course, left into the lanes and northwards. If the first few miles had felt hard, this was where things would really ramp up…

Writing this just 24hrs later there’s honestly little I can recall of my journey through Ashfield, Thorpe and Kenton. I pushed the pedals, I hunched low, I stayed out of the verge. The rest is gone, lost in the swirling winds. At times I could get on top of my gear and pedal strongly but when the gusts came, oh boy…

As the water tower at Bedingfield homed into view, I knew I was nearing the next turn, cutting left from the original course to the final junction where I would pick up the road back to Debenham. At this point I began to catch glimpses of a rider ahead, one who had set forth 10 minutes before me. Afterwards I discovered that their ride had been hampered by a retracing of wheel tracks to retrieve a lost rear light.

The minor road across to Rishangles was sheltered and so the wind briefly abated and I was lulled into a false hope that conditions might be favourable for the last few miles. I’d remembered the punchy down/up section by the Aspall cidery but forgotten quite how unrelenting the road was otherwise.

What appeared to be a dead goat, slumped in the verge around a mile before the finish, reminded me that others were surely having a worse day than I and so I gathered what strength remained as the road dropped to run parallel to the river for the final few hundred yards to the finish. A sluggish sprint saw me across the line in 54 minutes and 29 seconds. On a good day, on my ‘better’ bike, I would have hoped to have broken evens and so, given the biblical winds and less than optimal bike ‘choice’ I was pleased to have made it round at over an 18mph average.

Although I need a bit of a run up to be sure, I’m fairly confident I’m pleased that Stowmarket & District CC give me the chance to do it all over again in 13 days time…