Bicycling to Oxford, part 2

My most surreal / memorable travel experiences: #7 See full map

There are a few moments in life when you realize that you're really in over your head. Lying on the M40 in the middle of nowhere sometime after midnight was one of those. I had been riding for so long in unbroken silence that the muffled, awkward sound of my breath being knocked out reverberated in my ears.

I reached out and found my glasses and picked myself off the road to assess the damage. I remember being more concerned with the fate of the bicycle - cuts and bruises I could deal with, but if my bike was busted up I would really be out of luck, since not only I would stuck in some unknown place, I'd have no good way to get out of there. The bike was in the foliage on the side of the road and appeared to be fine. I didn't want to see how badly I was hurt, and because it was a dark night I couldn't if I wanted to.

Riding on further was out of the question. I walked my bike to the nearest highway exit, still in the dark, and trudged through the high grass on the side of the road until I found a gas station. I was lost, it was starting to rain, and the gas station was closed. Thus commenced one of the more memorable nights of my life, as I sat approximating the fetal position under the canopy of the gas pumps in a random part of England, tried to stay warm and wished for the day.

When the station opened for business I popped in and checked one of the local maps. As it turns out, I was still reasonably on track for Oxford, one unfortunate highway excursion aside. I picked out a route that would get me to Oxford on country roads, and after some meandering managed to get going shortly after daybreak. With the help of daylight it turned out I had only most minor scrapes from the fall.

At this point sheer will took over, as I was too tired to rationalize anymore. At one point I felt sure I was close, whereupon I saw a sign indicating that Oxford was 22 miles away. Nothing to be done about it, I pedaled onwards. After clearing final a jumbled intersection not designed for pedestrians (or cycles) I entered the old university town at 11 am, 14 hours after my departure from Notting Hill.

I explored the city by bike, and then on foot, but not for long. About four hours after arriving, I was headed back to London - on a bus this time, with the bike neatly stowed in the purpose-built compartment in the back. Utterly exhausted, I caught up on a missing night's sleep during the ride back.

Rash decisions don't always lead to the best outcomes, but they're definitely memorable. In the middle of the ride I remember thinking that however it all turned out, I'd at least get a great story out of it.

The bicycle hire on the south bank of the Thames - 8 years later