Old Portlians Reliability Ride 2026 – Type 2 Fun Personified
In cycling, there is a lot of “Type 2” fun floating around. It’s that type of misery from pushing pedals up ridiculous gradients for hours to riding through a torture like cocktail of hunger, cold, and general dampness. There is very little to envy – so why do it?
The Old Portlians Reliability Ride landed on a very Type 2 type day. An early wake up of 7am where the view outside was an inviting and familiar mix of metallic grey and wet. Muscles and bones already aching from the previous day’s club ride. A club ride that was supposed to be an easy Z2 spin, a plan I forgot about 5 minutes into the ride.
Despite all internal protests, the hardest part was done – out the front door and down the high street to the De Ver shop.
Meeting Helga
I was running late – nearly 10 minutes. I hate running late but it still seems to happen too often. This morning’s excuse was breakfast took longer to make due to tiredness.
We had two options: ride to Knockholt Village Centre and tackle either the short route (118km / 1,406m for the day) or the long route (162km / 2,196m). The night-before bravado dictated I was all-in for the long route – the morning reality quickly made the short route look like the sensible option.
I met Helga at the shop, quick apologies for my tardiness, quick mention that I thought the short route was wise (not cowardly or lazy), her face lit up – agreeing that it is indeed too early in the year to be doing 162km. With that settled, we set off, 27km to the start, through drizzle and a steady 6°C – a temperature that, for those curious, refused to budge all day.
The Start
We arrived at Knockholt Village Centre (a community hall featuring a hall(!), toilets and a library) with a gentle smugness over those who opted to drive. Members of Old Portlians cycling club gave us a warm welcome as we caught up with our club mates Andrew ‘Jesus’ Atari and Haydar who were also taking part and were there already. I was glad to see their faces similarly light up at the mention of doing the shorter route. We signed up, took our timecards and did the obligatory carpark photo.
Intermission: Chiddingstone
A chat about the feed stop near Chiddingstone reminded me of one of my favorite countryside oddities. Tucked away, down a small walk down a small path exists a massive, ancient stone. Back in the very long ago – misbehaving villagers would be sat on the stone, and chided by the local populace – hence the name Chiding-stone. Next time you are going through this village go check out this special rock.
The Ride
Then, we were off. Our brief stint indoors had given the rain time to get rainier and the sky time to get greyer.
I’ll be honest: I am notoriously bad at remembering specific turns and climbs, so here is the highlight reel:
- The Start: Rolling lanes that got mistier as the elevation rose.
- The Middle Bit: The sun made a brief appearance as we dropped into the valley, where the scenery turned “farm-ish” (and smelled like it, too).
- The Sting in The Tail: A brutal kick in the teeth finale featuring Toys Hill followed immediately by Star Hill before we finally rolled back into the car park.
The Finish
The finish line meant hot drinks and hall chats. The undisputed highlight? The bacon butties. I firmly believe every sportive should provide these at the finish. We hurried our food with the hopes of making the most out of a dry spell, which graciously lasted the entire 27km cycle back into South London.
The Reliability Ride remains my favorite season opener. By the time the Hell of the Ashdowns and the Kentish Killers roll around, everything feels a bit serious. The expressions at those start lines suggest people are about to cross No Man’s Land rather than enjoy a spin through the countryside.
This ride is a reminder that cycling enjoyment is broader than chip timing and age-group rankings. It can be about the small things, like the teas consumed and the things you survived along the way. (That said, I’ll still be giving it the full beans at HOTA and KK, so don’t worry!)
The Aftermath
I started this post rambling about Type 2 fun. Well when I got home, I sat in the bath with a coffee in my hand and it was glorious – body grateful for an extra-generous serving of bubble bath.
That to me, is at least my “Why”. The colder, wetter, and more ludicrous the ride, the easier it is to appreciate the small, overlooked comforts of home.
