There are two ways I can close out my loops on my long morning rides out to Pevensey and points west, and both of them involve my climbing a fairly steep hill towards the end of the ride. Given that I am presented with a choice it might seem a little odd that virtually every time – unless I am really running late – I always take the longer and more circuitous route which also involves a considerably longer and bigger hill and yet still consider myself to be taking the easy option. It’s because the other hill is simply the wrong kind of hill – for me, that is. It is an Alberto Contador kind of hill, short and sharp, rearing suddenly upward at a gradient of 14% and then twisting backwards in a kind of elbow bend – and this little beauty coming off a hard left-hand turn off a nearly flat stretch of coastal road. You pretty much start this one at a dead stop. To be sure, it doesn’t go on for very long at all, but it is mean and punchy – in fact, precisely the brutal kind of grade on which El Pistolero likes [...]
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