Autumn Bike Ride in the Chiltern Hills
(conclusion)

From Hambleden I turned around and headed north, following a beautiful road on the way to Frieth. Just outside Hambleden was another pesky hill and a 400-foot climb. The climb crested in a plateau of fallow farmlands.

(Above: Up Pheasant's Hill outside Hambleden)

The road then continued pretty much in an undulating manner before dropping steeply down into the A40 near West Wycombe. I put my head down and tried to negotiate the 1 km. or so busy stretch of highway as quickly as I can. I made a sharp left turn up the road to West Wycombe and was already a mile up this road when I realized that I had lost my map.

(Below: Just before a steep drop, near Bullocks Farm, looking
north and down towards Wycombe district)

This posed a dilemma. I knew in general that I was no more than 10 miles south of my starting (and ending) point at Princes Risborough, yet I didn't feel confident that I can somehow find my way back on my own. I realized it would be pointless to ask people directions to Princes Risborough via a bike-friendly route, they'd probably suggest I take the A road back. On the other hand, I may have dropped the map several miles back; last time I looked at it was at the top of the hill from which I had steeply descended. And it would mean riding on the A road at least twice more.

I decided to turn around and look for my map. To my great relief, I found it flapping away right at the intersection between A40 and the bottom of the steep hill. I resumed my northward progression on an absolutely beautiful and deserted road with hedgerows lining both sides.

(Below: Another hill looms ahead, near Slough Bottom Farm near Bledlow Ridge)

I passed Saunderton Rail Station, crossed the A4010 and headed towards Lacey Green. I was riding merrily along when, what did I see before me but a particularly wicked hill whose grade easily exceeded 15%. I was caught in the wrong gear and had to zig-zag my way up the 300-foot climb to Lacey Green. I was positively out of breath by the time I reached the top. Luckily for me, the next 2 miles were mostly flat to downhill, giving me the opportunity to catch my breath.

By this time the overcast was more or less permanent and my toes were feeling quite numb. I came upon an interesting pink pub with a smoking chimney. The pub looked quite inviting, and I was very much tempted to stop in to get warmed up. A typical scene out of Dickens would have a stranger walking into a country pub from the cold (or the dark) after a long, tiring journey. All lively conversation cease abruptly upon the stranger's entry, and all eyes follow the stranger's every movement. In a corner by himself is a shady-looking character with a scar running diagonally from above his right eyebrow down his left cheek. The stranger gives a start as if recognizing the dark character from a previous encounter. I decided to pass on the pub...

(Above: John Mellencamp's Pink House at Bloomington, Indiana?
No, it's the Pink and Lily PH in Lacey Green)

I turned left at the next intersection on another steeply downhill, shaded road, and shortly turned right upon a watershed in Hillock Wood. The road continued its woodland descent before shortly emerging on the southeastern side of Princes Risborough. A few hundred meters of further riding took me back to the rail station where I had started in the morning.

(Above: The woodlands near the reservoir just outside Princes Risborough)

Last Updated: November 21, 1998