THERE AND BACK AGAIN

Another Year Done

2010-01-02T21:13:00.005Z

and time to close down yet another blog.

So what did 2009 bring? Well, certainly it didn't bring any reduction in Body Mass, that will have to be sorted out in 2010. But apart from that, 2009 was a year that just about delivered everything I set out to do.

LEL was completed within the timescale, and without a step walked pushing the bike, something I dared not hope for when I first felt its fully laden weight. The supplementary goal of 5,000km in Audax events was achieved on the last possible day (it seems the noble art of brinkmanship is alive and well), and the RTTY was completed at the first time of asking. All in all a pretty good year.

Things I shall remember:
The buzz of LEL
The weather in Scotland (but not for good reasons)
The companionship of like minded buffoons on that ride.
Riding through snow on top of the Cotswold on the Poor Student Audax in January
The pain of cramped ribs just yards from the top of Mow Cop
Just how fabulous (and hilly) Cornwall is to ride across
The sheer enjoyment of being out on the bike and not driving a desk

Things I shall (unsuccessfully) try to forget:
Trench foot after riding 34 hours of rain on the Cambrian Audax
Just how much my backside hurt towards the end of LEL
How it took me 11 (yes, 11) hours to finish the Etape du Dales this time around

And I have a few things to show for it:
Its a pretty awful picture, but I have:
i) Audax 50km medal
ii) Audax 100km medal
iii) Audax 200 km medal
iv) Audax 300km medal
v) Audax 600km medal
vi) Audax 1000km medal (all for single events)
vii) Randonneur Through The Year badge, for riding a 200km in every calendar month for a year
viii) Super Randonneur Badge for riding distances of 200km, 300km, 400km and 600km in a year (I didn't ride a 400, but substituted a 1400 instead so it still counts)
ix) Randonneur 5,000 award for riding 5,000km in events of 200km or greater
x) Gold Grimpeur Badge for riding an event with stupid amounts of climbing (I also got the Bronze and Silver in other events)
xi) London-Edinburgh-London finishers medal

The two spaces on the top row are for the 150km medal and the 400km medal, both of which I shall aim for in 2010.

Not a bad little collection for a fat bloke, who is still a fat bloke despite a record mileage of 4,662 for the year. Now on to 2010. I shall, of course, start another blog (link top right) for 2010's madness, which will be there in all it's gory detail soon enough.

Until then, never put off until tomorrow what you can do today. After all, if you do it today and like it, you can do it again tomorrow.

Thanks for reading.

Clive

To Blog or not to Blog

2009-12-13T18:59:00.004Z

That is the question.

As 2009 winds down, and cycling becomes scarcer, thoughts turn to the years achievements, and what I intend to do next year.

Some are fixed on their plans, aiming for Etapes, or similar. As yet, I have no such plans and haven't really thought about what would fit best. Certainly, there will be a family holiday (with what's left of the family with the older 2 not wishing to come along) and this will definitely involve bikes. Currently it looks as if it may also include Alpe d'Huez as we are looking to go to Bourg d'Oisans in July/August.

Beyond that, I don't know. I think there may well be a lot more 100's next year, as Linda wishes to gear up her cycling. And I have the Tamworth Audaxes to organise. That may well eat some time.

As to whether it is worth blogging such a lack of commitment, that's debatable, though it may serve to keep me honest through the year.

I guess I need to do some thinking (and planning).

In search of 'Proof'

2009-12-08T22:42:00.002Z

Shortly after failing to collect all of my required documentary proof, I noted from Yet Another Cycling Forum that the local Permanent Ride Convener, Danial Webb, was looking to recommend to the Audax powers-that-be that GPS tracks should be acceptable for 'proof' that a permanent ride had been completed.

Other arguments ranged from "definitely not" to "only to prove detours to add the requisite km".

Thus a plea was submitted. "Could I submit my existing receipts, backed up by the GPS track (fully consistent with said receipts) and take the GPS track as proof of visiting Stratford?"

Answer: "I'll ask."

A couple of days elapsed, and the following response was received. "Audax always look to validate rides, not to invalidate them. This should be OK".

The validated card has now been received, and it is official.

I HAVE MY 5,000KM AWARD for 2008/2009. Chuffed!!

Life's Little Ups and Downs (mostly downs)

2009-12-02T22:12:00.003Z

Saturday 31st dawned, Ray cried off. Another lonely 200 beckoned.

At least on this occasion I had cobbled together a route that contained some new roads, and therefore a bit more interest. Sure, I would be riding some roads well travelled on Audax events during the year, but the roads joining them together were new to me.

A 7:25 start was a little later than anticipated, but I was trying to keep riding in the dusk to a minimum as I am currently without my nice SuperNova Dynamo Light. That semi-died on the Cider with Rosie Audax when its capacitor blew. It's currently (subject to the foibles of the mail system) in Germany being repaired (and upgraded) free of charge. Love it.

The first sections to Market Harborough were lumpy, and it took until 10:30 to do the first 65km, but at least that meant Subway was open when I got there. The road to Southam was a "curates egg", good in parts. The section before Rugby was good, and largely quiet, the section afterwards maddeningly busy with dangerous traffic. I was even forced onto a cycle lane for a short section.

I made Southam by 12:45 and Stratford by 14:15, only 60km to go and the 5,000km award was in the bag! I know the road back from Stratford well, but it rarely takes as long as the three hours it took that afternoon. Such, I suppose, was the payback for being ill earlier in the week.

Nevertheless, I checked in at the local cashpoint for the finish receipt with an elapsed time of 9 hours 50.

I retreated home feeling chuffed. After eating I dragged together the receipts to attach them to the Brevet Card and despatch then to our local organiser, Danial, and get my official ratification.

The way that such rides work is that you obtain receipts/proof of passage at commercial establishments along the route to prove you were there, adding up the pre-ordained distances to get the allowed ride length.

Imagine my horror to discover no receipt or proof of passage from Stratford on Avon, and therefore no verifiable 200km to add to my running total and get the 5000km award. Like a wally, I had not picked up the receipt from the garage in Stratford, had no proof of passage and, worse still no more days on which to do another qualifying ride.

I have never felt so utterly dejected and miserable.

Always have a Plan 'B'

2009-12-02T22:08:00.002Z

Having the last week of October off work coincides nicely with half term. It also gives you time to think about how to fit in your last 200km ride before the end of the Audax year on 31st October.

Thus, with a bit of planning, a route of Tamworth, Measham, Market Harborough, Southam, Stratford, Tamworth for eaxctly 200km took shape. And doing it on the Saturday would give me optimum recovery time whilst still fitting the ride into the Audax Year.

Game Back On.

The Best Laid Plans

2009-12-02T21:53:00.003Z

as the saying goes "Gang Aft Agley". Or translated into modern English, often end up down the toilet. Literally.

The plan for Horseshoe Pass Audax Weekend was a bit involved. Matthew (middle son) was attending Teesside Uni for an Open Day prior to making his UCAS choices on the Saturday, the Audax was the Sunday.

GPS was plotted (properly) earlier in the week, and we decamped to the Land of the Prince Bishops (County Durham.....this is educational y'know) on the Friday to stay overnight at the el-cheapo TravelLodge. You gets what you paid for, and we obviously hadn't paid for much sleep. Breakfast at the neighbouring Little Chef (more of THAT later) resumed some semblance of normal service, and off we trotted to look around the Uni.

Curiosity sated, we set off on the return journey mid-afternoon and arrived back home early evening after which bike prepping was hastily done and car packed for the following morning.

I retreated to bed at about 10 p.m., and stayed there about 4 hours. The wee small hours of the Sunday are best glossed over, but I know now why the lavvy and the washbasin are next to one another. I don't think I have ever felt quite so ill, and despite my every effort to the contrary (including getting up at 6 a.m. to get dressed) the Audax simply wasn't happening. I spent the whole of the Sunday being poorly, the eventual culprit suspected to be Little Chef Baked Beans which was the only thing I had eaten that no-one else had.

I felt wiped out until about the Tuesday, but worse still I had missed the last 200km event in the Audax Calendar.

Another One Bites the Dust

2009-12-02T21:40:00.003Z

Another Saturday, another 200km, this time the reverse of an earlier Mesh doing Tamworth, Stratford, Stow, Alcester, Measham, Tamworth.

The Mesh map would have this as being 213km, but going the opposite way round would have meant climbing some stoopid hills instead of descending them, so I took slight detours both to ease the climbs and divert to the better descents.

Saturday started cloudy but not too cold so I went with the fingerless summer gloves. By the time I had done 25 miles the cloud had cleared enough to give clear sky overhead, but not enough to allow the sun access to the road. The temperature headed down VERY rapidly. 10 miles out from Stratford, I could not even feel my fingers, and I haven't yet got the hang of cycling along with my hands down my bibshorts to warm them up. Besides, that sounds like a really good way of getting stopped by the Old Bill.

Further kilometers added to retreat to Costa in Stratford for food and warming coffee. 25 minutes later and some serious clutching of an oversize coffee mug had returned the feeling to the fingers. Leaving the coffee shop, the temperature was by now that couple of degrees warmer and the fingers were no problem for the rest of the day. I added kilometers to go round Chipping Campden rather than ascend the killer climb past the quarry, riding along 5 Mile Drive on the top of the Cotswolds to arrive in Stow well before midday and going very well.

A swift turnaround towards Alcester led to the choice of avoiding the descent of Saintbury Hill (narrow & slippery) in favour of Fish Hill (wide and long with sweeping 180 degree bends) where we did some training for the descents of last year's Etape. Brilliant. 40mph and catching cars round the corners.

Once out on the flat stuff, the hammer stayed down, and I passed through home on the way to Measham well ahead of schedule. 50 minutes later the ride was over, 9 hours and 50 minutes elapsed for 223km. My fastest 200km ride of the year and well over distance.

One more down, only one event to go.

Neither Cider Nor Rosie

2009-12-01T22:30:00.005Z

A 300km Ride? In October? Are you mad?

This was the conversation held with my alter-ego shortly after the 100km Over and Over the Trent Audax. Of course, to achieve the target of 5,000km in Audaxes for the 12 months I would either have to do the 300, or two 200's, in addition to the Horseshoe Pass Audax at the end of October. In the end, I opted for the two shorter distances. Strange, isn't it, that 200km can ever be considered a 'shorter distance'.

Finally, I decided on the "Cider with Rosie" Audax from Andoversford near Cheltenham as the first of these 200km rides on 11th October. Collecting 2 colleagues en-route, we three arrived at Andoversford early. Tea, biccies and the first cakes of the day ensued.

All GPS'd up, we set off into the Cotswolds for the first leg to Fairford. This route took us across many of the lanes we had used for Etape training, albeit in different directions and was very pleasant indeed. The tourist trap of Bibury was passed whilst still quiet, and the route passed into Fairford the back way to take best advantage of the scenery.

Leading off from the control, we caught a couple of riders having navigational problems, pouring scorn when we informed them they were trying to navigate from the wrong page of the route sheet. Pride cometh before a fall, just remember that.

The next sections of the ride passed over the Ridgeway (steep and long) into Hungerford (cake stop), then through Marlborough and along the A4 to Lacock for tea. By the time we ascended the Ridgeway, the cloud descended to meet us as we rode up toward it. By the top, the cloud reached the road. A mile later, full blown drizzle started. By the time we reached Hungerford it was a proper rainstorm and we were about as wet as cyclists can get. And tired. So tired, that I cannot properly remember the emergency rations administered at the Tutti Pole Cafe, but I do recall hazily something to do with Crumpets, Toast and Marmalade (x4) and Death By Hot Chocolate. The route to Lacock was much on major roads, not entirely to our liking, but did pass interesting locations such as Silbury Hill, Avebury and a couple of White Horses.

Lacock was very picturesque, but better still had a tea rooms serving a clotted cream tea that was a heart attack waiting for somewhere to happen. Suitably fortified, we departed the place barely able to resist the allure of the real coal open fire at the neighbouring pub. Still, only 70km to go (or so we thought).

Having descended the hill from Avening to Nailsworth (rejoicing in the fact that we set off the 30mph flashy thing on the way down) and picked up Ray who collided with Brett whilst stopping for road works, we picked off the last Info Control and headed for Stroud, the Slad Valley (setting for Laurie Lee's Cider with Rosie) and the finish. At this point we made the cardinal mistake of letting me lead.

It appears that in the middle of Stroud is a double mini-roundabout. I misread the GPS unit, turned right at the first instead of the second, and failed to notice that the track on the GPS unit had gone missing. Brett and Ray came tanking past with the bit in their teeth, sensing the finish, and I set off after them for the 'last' 20km. I remember thinking "I must be tired, I've ridden straight past the Woolpack Pub without noticing" because it never appeared. Neither did the Air Balloon pub at Birdlip.

Just before my suspicions fully surfaced, a sign for Cirencester appeared. Note: a sign FOR Cirencester, not a sign TO Cirencester. Yes, this was actually Cirencester itself. Don't get me wrong. I'm sure Corinium is a mighty fine place, but not when you think you're 2km from the finish of a 208km Audax and you turn up in a place 25km off-course.

Thankfully, having a GPS unit with a map allowed us to plot a route back to the finish, but adding an extra 25km in the last 20km despite having the assistance of a GPS is a record even for me. In the end it took us 12 hours 25 minutes, in which we eventually cycled almost 235km.

Still, they all count and at the end of the ride I was up to 4,700km and only 2 rides short of my annual target (but still more than a little bit embarrassed).

Over and Over Again

2009-12-01T22:13:00.002Z

3? years ago, Over and Over the Trent was my third serious Audax Ride, and at 113km my longest ride to date.

This year, it was Mrs H's 100km Audax for the year, having warmed up with the 50km of the Welland Wonder a few weeks ago.

The start point for the ride is Darley Abbey in the middle of Derby, a rather quaint old part of the city, which is surprisingly picturesque given its proximity to the centre. Being semi-organised we arrived in time to occupy just about the last parking space in the small car park by the village hall, and rolled out with 4 other members of Tamworth CC (which is about 50% of the total membership) across the river Derwent and into the lumpy bits north of the City.

True to form within 2 miles we were virtually last and tootling along up the hills at our own pace. At least we didn't repeat my navigational error of last time and add on 3 miles and an extra hill on this occasion.

Once we left the built-up area it was immediately noticeable that it was windy. Very windy. Exactly the same, in fact, as it was last time I rode this event. On that occasion we were down to 9kmh on the flat at one point, the wind was so strong. This time was little better with the wind (and soil from the fields) in our faces until well after the lunch stop. Everyone coped well with the hills on offer, without even the threat of having to get off, and it was noticeable that although I am far from being as fit as I would like, I bear no resemblance to the guy who struggled round this course last time.

Once the turn was reached, and the wind at our backs, fun commenced with the hammer being dropped for optimal slipstreaming. After about 3 miles of this we slowed to let other people catch back up, with Mrs H professing to be a little disappointed at having to slow down. Methinks all this training could be creating a monster. The sort that will rip my legs off at some point in the future.

Once through the tiny lanes north of Burton, and sampling the coffee aromas downwind of the Nestle factory, we put our heads down to try to get back before we were rained on. We failed, but we at least under cover for the worst of it.

Once we got back to the start, our elapsed time was 6 hours 10 minutes. Faster than last years 100km ride, on a course with more climbing, on a windier day. A good performance.

Despite 'only' doing 110km on the day, my legs 'persuaded' me not to get up in the rain the following day to pursue Rourkies Cat & Fiddle Challenge. Wuss!

Blue Remembered Hills

2009-10-06T19:52:00.005+01:00

Into my heart an air that kills
  From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
  What spires, what farms are those?
 
That is the land of lost content,
  I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
  And cannot come again.  (A.E Houseman)

Shropshire is one of those counties that has always been too far away to ride to, but 'too close' to justify a day out in the car. After the experience of this ride, I would say that this has probably been a mistake. Despite the noncommittal weather, the "Beyond Shropshire" was an extremely pleasant ride.

An early start from home ensured an arrival in time for a cuppa before the start, and a good faff in advance of setting off with a swift group. As usually happens, I stayed with them until the first significant incline, when they rode away from the wheezing fat bloke. Never mind, this was a lot faster than my last ride along the road to Ironbridge in the foul weather of the Cambrian Audax after being up all night. First control at 23km in 51 minutes, job done.

Straight after the control came a reality check. Ironbridge is often referred to in terms of "Ironbridge Gorge". Gorges have steep sides. We rode up it. This set the tone for much of the day, greeting riders as they passed by with me grinding away in the granny gear. Still, at least I didn't have to walk all day (just). Much Wenlock heralded the arrival of the Wenlock Edge (more climbing) but in the little lanes beyond this, I set my top speed of the day. 63kmh on the flat!! It is worth mentioning at this point that a tractor towing a trailer full of spuds is an excellent slipstreaming opportunity. Regrettably after a couple of kilometres, the road had a slight incline, and I dropped off the back.

Arriving in Ludlow past the river we climbed the hill past the castle going sufficiently slowly to read about some of its history (ie very slowly) but the thought of a feed at the top of the hill kept me going despite the fact my legs were telling me it was steep. On the way down the road claims to be 1:4 (25%) but its nowhere near the steepness of the top of Mow Cop. Someone is telling porkies, but I don't know which. Mortimer Forest passed slowly whilst fully fed (more climbing with hairpins), but the rest of the leg to Crossgates in Wales was uneventful, so much so I can't much remember it. I do recall quite a bit of main road, though.

After Crossgates, the leg back through Clun is hilly. Very hilly. My legs were soon confirming this to be the hilliest Audax (in terms of AAA points) that I have ever done. I had harboured hopes that, since we were following the railway, it might be less hilly. I had not taken into account that the railway cheats by using cuttings, embankments and tunnels. Roads largely have no such luxury. Most surprisingly, the views over Clun on the final descent to the town reveal a landscape where the hills really are blue. Amazing.

Remarkably, despite the rough surfaces, loose chippings and liberal hedge trimmings (a factor of the time of year) I suffered no deflations, unlike my fellow riders who were visited by 'she-who-must-not-be-named' (you know, the p+n+t+r+ f+i+y) for it is on such country lanes that she is to be found. My time will come.

The Wheelwrights at Little Brampton administered toast and marmalade, and the refreshed cyclist set off back towards Upton Magna, with only a little thing called the Long Mynd in the way. Of course, we got to go up the steep side, at which point I considered it time to stop and put on my rear light. I was getting dusk, you see, and I was thinking of my safety. It had nothing to do with a prolonged section of 17% and me having one lung hanging out.

Reaching the top with 23km left, I was resigned to finishing in the dark, but the benefit of ascending the steep side is that you descend the gentle side. 5 miles of downhill later, and I was only separated from the finish by 15km of flat stuff. I eventually finished at 7:25 for 11:25 on the road, but for 208km with over 3,00m of climbing, I'll take that.

As for Housemans 'land of lost content', perhaps he never went looking for it on a bike. I believe its much easier to find that way.

Given that it was not completely pitch black, I could claim to have finished in daylight too, but it wouldn't quite be true. Winter, the time of leggings, long fingered gloves and lighting systems, is upon us.

D-I-Y

2009-10-06T19:34:00.003+01:00

Now, for most sane individuals, 'doing diy on a Sunday' normally involves power tools and at least one trip to B&Q (usually 2 or 3 in my case, because I can never get what I need in one visit). In my case, the day after the Welland Wonder 50, it meant designing and riding your own 200km course.

Luckily, the nearest Midlands Mesh node (and start point) is only 10km away at Measham so all of my rides so far have gone that way. On this occasion, the route was to be Measham-Alcester-Stow-Stratford-Home for a total of 213km and another 2 points toward my target of 50 for the year.

I sort of know the road to Alcester from Orienteering, and from those days when the commute to work doesn't go quite right, but I was surprised to find that the hills I expected to struggle on were going quite well. Approaching Lapworth Hill I noted a guy on a 'sit up and beg' style bike ahead up the slope. Those who know me are aware that I am not in the least competitive (NOT!) so I set off after him at a rate of knots. And didn't catch up at all. I gave it loads along the flatter section at the top. And didn't catch up at all. It was only on the descent toward Henley-in-Arden that the full force of descending lard ate into his lead, and I had almost caught up when he turned off at the bottom. Only to reveal that the bike was electrically assisted!! Lesson learned I slowed for a couple of miles whilst my lungs caught up with my heart rate, but it did lead to an earlier than anticipated arrival in Alcester, and a receipt from the ubiquitous Tesco Express.

Leaving through the town centre was pleasant and very half-timbered, and the subsequent drag past Ragley Hall very picturesque, as was the Avon crossing in Bidford on Avon. From there its a straight road south toward the edge of the Cotswolds and Saintbury Hill at 102km in. This is a 200m climb in just over 2km with a maximum gradient of about 1:6 and is a rude awakening. Nonetheless its better than Fish Hill which is gentler and longer but beset with traffic.

Having started at 6:20 I was please to reach Stow before 12 for a lunch stop at......Tescos (again), but soon set off back toward Stratford in an effort to get home at a reasonable hour. Stratford was busy with Classic Hot Rods leaving Long Marston after their weekend festival, but was soon left behind for the now familiar lanes back toward Tamworth.

200km came up in 9:12 elapsed time, and my time of 9:52 for the whole 213km is the fastest I have ever ridden a 200. Perhaps I should warm up with a 50km ride the day before all of them.

Or perhaps not.

Wonderful Welland

2009-09-28T20:52:00.003+01:00

As a 50km introduction to Audax, my wife found the Welland Wonder 50 an excellent event a couple of years ago, and given that she is keen to 'up the mileage' we returned to the scene of the crime this year.

50's are an eclectic mix of more serious riders having a short day, inexperienced audaxers, and those just out to have a nice day out. This one was no different.

On the day we started off at a steady pace in a small group including my wife and I, her sister on her first organised event on her new(ish) mountain bike, Marmite Geoff on his first ride back following an angioplasty, and a bunch of others including a young lad name of Harry riding in the back of his dad's Freight 8. "Freight what?" I hear you asking.....see below.

Yes, it seems there are folk madder than I still at large in the community. We were right royally entertained by Harry on the way round, being tasked with remembering the entire cast of Scooby Doo (he has all the characters) whilst trying to look good as Harry brandished the digital camera at the following posse.

Towards the end of the ride we lost them briefly as the driver had to engage the 12-inch gear (two feet) up the steepest of the hills, but they arrived back only five minutes behind us.

Toward the end of the ride Elaine (my sister in law) came to realise and understand the formula of n+1. This is the formula used to calculate the optimum number of bicycles to own, where n is the number you already have. To quote "If I'm going to do a 100km event, I shall need a road bike". Another convert returns from the 'dark side'.

We both found the course easier than last time, so progress is definitely still being made, and Linda didn't 'nearly get off her bike' this time, coping admirably with the hills.

Oh yes, and the sun shone too.

Still plodding on

2009-09-08T21:36:00.002+01:00

In the weeks since LEL, I have taken a hastily booked camping holiday in Brittany (sunny weather for the whole 8 days, bliss) and returned to work to be inundated with projects and associated tasks.

Couple this with preparations for issuing eldest son back to Uni, and Uni visits so that middle son can decide where he wants to go next year, and cycling opportunities have been much curtailed.

RTTY jeopardised. By the time that my diary cleared, there were no 200's in the Audax calendar, and it was too late to get another 2 Battles Permanent organised.

Enter The Midlands Mesh. The Mesh is a collection of selected towns ("nodes") with limited routes to other nodes from each of them. All selected routes have an allowable minimum distance (but can ride a more roundabout route if you wish) and by linking them, you can build your own DIY 200, 300 etc.

Sorted. 23rd August saw my first DIY 200, a route from Home to Measham, Southam, Stow on the Wold, Stratford on Avon, back to home for 212km total.

Weather, as usual, was windy, especially in the first half to destroy any hope of fast finishing later. The first sections contained most of the days main roads, including the usually busy A444 through Nuneaton. On a Sunday morning at 8:30, its thankfully quieter.

Having made good time to Southam, the leg to Stow really reared up on us. Perhaps I should have paid more attention to gradient than shortest distance? Either way, there's no avoiding the final hill into Stow from Broadwell. In the opposite direction, I always find this a case of playing chicken to see how long the brakes can be left alone. Heading into Stow, I climbed it about 5 minutes slower that Ray & Bob, my riding companions for the day, and reached the top wheezing like a broken-winded horse. Not good, but at least the top is only 200 metres from the Tesco's which serves as lunchtime control.

Fed and watered, we launched ourselves towards Stratford on Avon along some of my favourite edge-of-the-Cotswolds roads (or should that be "down some of my favourite edge-of-the -Cotswolds hills?) reaching Stratford (35km) in 77 minutes, the fastest leg of the day.

That was the end of the good news, as the headwind had taken its toll and sapped the strength from legs. With the exception of Bob, who was on his Titanium Flying Machine and ripped our legs off, throwing them into a field. We simply couldn't keep up with him, and this is a man who's own legs fell off in an Audax of lesser distance. Note to self: When Bob has one on him, stay home.

We had almost reached home after 10 hours 25 minutes out, when Bob spied the Railway Inn and uttered the magic B word. 25 minutes later, powered by beer (and peanuts) normal service was resumed and we veritably sped back to the start for an elapsed time of 10:52.

Satisfied. 10/12 of the RTTY done and time to start planning the uplift of miles for the next 2 months to hit the targets I didn't dare hope for at the start of the year.

2 more 200's will give me my RTTY. An additional 500km, ridden as a 200 and a 300, will give me the Randonneur 5000 Award for 5000km ridden in events of 200km or greater in the 12 months. I'll never get this close again, so I have to go for it.

Next up:
19/9 Welland Wonder 50km with my good lady wife
20/9 DIY 200km for Septembers RTTY ride
26/9 Beyond Shropshire 208km with over 3,000 metres of climbing (ouch!)
3/10 Over & Over The Trent. Mrs H's 2009 100km Audax Ride
4/10 Rourkies Cat & Fiddle Challenge
Sometime in the week of 19/10 a DIY 300 down to Newent from Tamworth
25/10 Horseshoe Pass 200km, and the R5000 qualifier.

Its a good plan. Watch something come along and spoil it.

L-E-L Day Six

2009-08-24T20:15:00.003+01:00

Gamlingay to Lee Valley
65km with 591 metres of climbing

I suppose that it is inevitable that eventually the body's internal clock will break its mainspring and cease to function properly. This happened at Gamlingay, which was the one and only time on LEL when I needed to be woken. At 4:30 I was still sound alseep, coming round in a completely empty room. All other riders had left, and I hadn't even stirred!

Tony was already consuming breakfast as I arrived, and we jointly got on the road at 5a.m. Noticeably, it was still dark, thus underlining again just how far North we had been just 48 hours earlier.

The route back to Lee Valley does contain some hills, and whilst none of these are particularly fierce, the effect after 1335km is unpleasant. This was tempered by the fact that it was a beautiful morning, and the sun was again shining over wide swathes of cornfields, and largely deserted roads.

The route keeps away from most of the main roads, but does do a short stretch of the A602 before Hertford. At 7:30 in the morning, this is not a pleasant place to be, even for just 2km.

Hertford itself was fairly quiet, but hillier than I recalled, as was the climbing around Broxbourne Woods. The final climb is Holy Cross Hill (I recall it as Holy S*** Hill!) and comes only 3km from the finish. This is great on the way out, not so good on the way back. It must be 1 in 7, and feels like 7 in 1 after 1398km of pedalling an overloaded bike. Determination and sheer bloodymindedness got me to the top without walking, and 3km later I rolled into Lee Valley having ridden the whole thing.

Arrival time at Lee Valley was 9:05 on the Friday, an elapsed time of 115 hours and 5 minutes, 1 hour and 35 minutes inside the unadulterated time limit. I was, and still am, very chuffed indeed.

The obligatory post-event photo was taken, and I am surprised that I still look semi-human, albeit about 10 years older, and completely shattered.

Thankfully, pastries were available and helped the revival.

I recovered my bags, and changed into the LEL T-shirt I had left at Lee Valley. On registration, I had received both the T-Shirt and a LEL cycling jersey, but there was no way either of these were ever going to get worn if I hadn't finished the event.

I made my way back to the railway station, and sat in the sun to wait for my lift home. The original plan was to cycle to Watford Junction to get the train home. This plan died at Coxwold on the way South, when I begged a lift instead.

The lift arrived at 11a.m. and I was asleep by the time that one junction of the M25 had passed. This lasted until just before Newport Pagnell Services, where I was woken by severe pain in the knees, which were protesting at finally being allowed to rest in one place. In an effort to relieve the discomfort, we stopped in the Services, and got some more food and drink.

Hastily consumed, this sent me back to sleep until about 15 miles from home, where I couldn't get back to sleep and spent the afternoon sorting stuff out.

Amazingly, on the Saturday, normal service was resumed (although an afternoon nap was taken) and I even got out on the bike for 18 miles on the Sunday.

Day 6
Gamlingay - Lee Valley
65km and 591 metres of climb
40 miles and 1939 feet of climbing

For the whole event
1,401 kilometres and 11,898 metres of climbing
871 miles with 39,035 feet of climbing
Elapsed time 115 hours 5 minutes
Cycling time 69 hours 15 minutes
Cycling speed 20.2kmh

L-E-L Day Five

2009-08-24T19:10:00.007+01:00

Coxwold - Gamlingay (NOT London)
316km with 1,380 metres of climbing

It is easy, in the comfort of one's own home, not to appreciate the simpler things in life, like the Great British Blanket. Without this most marvellous of creations, it is virtually impossible to get to sleep. With one, and with the benefit of a full day's (or close to a week's) cycling behind you, you can sleep virtually anywhere. Thus is was at Coxwold. On our arrival, the beds were already fully occupied for the night, and no-one looked like moving. Bed therefore became a flattened out cardboard box in the corner of a brightly lit hall, with my helmet forming a somewhat hard pillow. With the benefit of ear plugs, and blindfolded by the buff, I got nearly 5 hours of hardly interrupted sleep prior to waking up about 5 minutes before my scheduled call.

With the benefit of a quickly grabbed breakfast (I can remember it was quickly grabbed, but cannot for the life of me remember actually what it was) we were outside, fettled, faffed, and ready to go by 3 a.m. It was still dark. Very dark. A procession of loosely organised tail lights was already stretching away from Coxwold as we latched onto the back. The first noticeable thing was that these lights were heading upwards. A long way upwards. Feeble memory recalled a long plummet into Coxwold some 3 days earlier, but didn't quite recall just how steep, or how far. Very steep, and far too far, was the answer, and with legs not yet fully mobile, this was the usual early morning struggle. Thankfully, the hill expired before the legs, only for us to be rewarded with further rolling terrain.

We shortly arrived at the most gratuitous hill on the course, in the village of Crayke. Gratuitous, since I am sure that there is a perfectly acceptable (flat) detour, I am equally sure we couldn't have found it in the dark. I remember this place particularly since we were in the presence of a couple of Italians, who pronounced the name as "Crikey". My legs agreed. At least the exit from the village gave us a decent downhill stretch out onto the flatter stuff most of the way to Thorne.

This section was notable for a few things:
- Luxury Randonneurs Accomodation, an almost fully enclosed wooden bus shelter with a full width bench, windows and a light!
- Regular quick changes as showers came and went with the approaching light
- Catching Tony (who had left me behind as I changed) suffering from the dozies in Sutton upon Derwent and flaked out in a Bus Shelter.

Arriving in Howden at 7:00 it was time for a second breakfast. Unfortunately, the Co-op was not open. Further down the street, bacon sandwich smells wafted from the local butchers. But they weren't open either! Torture. In the end, a garage sandwich had to make do. The rest of the route to Thorne was flat, and increasingly busy as morning lemmings rushed to their places of work. The human/bicycle interface was getting sore, and the legs feeling very tired, but I still wouldn't have swapped places.

As we arrived at Thorne, the sun came out despite the strengthening wind, and provided some promise for the rest of the day. It was incredibly warm on the terracing of the Rugby Club, so I spread out my wet clothes, and retreated foodwards. In the hour after our 8:15 arrival, my foul weather gear dried completely whilst we refuelled.

Next stop Washingboro, some 75km distant. 75km of unrelenting fens (initially at least). The wind was largely from the side, but providing a welcome boost when we turned westwards. We soon arrived at the turn South at Sandtoft. This is largely an unremarkable place, save for the fact that it heralds the start of the most boring cycling road in Britain. The straight from Sandtoft goes dead straight for 11 km, with a high point of 3 metres above sea level, and a low point of 2 metres. Oh, and a howling side wind. Purgatory. The only feature, as such, is the 'climb' over the railway embankment of the east Coast Mainline where, according to the law of Sod, we had to wait for two trains.

Finishing the fens proper by crossing the Trent at Gainsborough we were rudely awakened by a 'real' hill, but I was glad of the opportunity to freewheel down the other side, standing on the pedals to relieve the posterior discomfort.

A check-in break whilst Tony made a phone call led to a lengthy conversation with a local gentleman who was astounded both with the length of the ride and the levels of lunacy possessing so many to attempt it. This was a recurring theme throughout with nothing but encouragement forthcoming from those we met along the route.

Lincoln's Cathedral can be seen from many miles away, but the route cruelly skirts around it before heading into Lincoln from off the top of the escarpment near the Dambusters base at Scampton. This means having to climb to the top of the hill. It also means that when you are up there, you are exposed to ALL of the weather. Tony was also visited by the puncture fairy at this point so, at his instruction, I carried on to the control to meet up later. Increasing winds drew attention to some very dark clouds gathering above, together with grumbles of thunder. Sat atop a bike, on the lip of the highest hill for miles around is not the place to be in a thunderstorm. Time to drop the hammer. By the time Lincoln's edge was reached, the trees alongside the roads were already shedding leaves, but thankfully this was all I received from them. About a mile behind me, another rider had a near miss with an 8 foot branch which crashed into the road behind him, whipping him with the leaves as it passed. Lucky!

Arriving at Washingboro just ahead of the heavy rain, I retreated to the shower before food. There are times when even my stomach has to come second, and if I couldn't find some comfort in the saddle, there was no way I could finish. By this stage, my legs would not support me standing on the pedals for the last 200km.

Clean and changed, I attacked the buffet with Tony, who had just arrived in the rain. We left at about 2:30pm but this effectively meant that we were hitting increasing traffic on the road to Sleaford. This was probably the most unpleasant piece of road on the entire trip, and I would much rather forget the 2 hours it took us to get there. After Sleaford, the trip to Thurlby just dragged and dragged, particularly with my increasing worry that I would not be able to finish if I continued to be unable to sit down properly.

Thurlby came at 18:30 and I trudged inside, greatly worried. Strangely, after 45 minutes sitting on a comfy chair, and some decent food, all symptoms disappeared and I was able to cycle normally on the next section, powered by Relentless obtained from a garage en route. This section was splendid. The countryside rolled gently, the views splendid. Better still, the cornfields of the home counties were reached as the sun went down. The effect was stunning, but went unrecorded as my camera was by now in the bottom of the saddlebags. Night fell as the hills around Kimbolton were reached, and St Neots was reached at the point where pubs chuck out, and clubs take in. I shall try hard not to judge St Neots solely on this experience.

As on the way North, the few kilometres between St Neots and Gamlingay took far longer than their distance on the map seems to deserve, and we rolled into Gamlingay at 23:50 to meet a few riders waiting to depart after their rest stop.

We now had a choice. Press on to London, finishing at about 4:30, in the dark and largely unheralded, subsequently finding nowhere to sleep? Or sleep at Gamlingay, get up early with a (semi)triumphal arrival in the daylight. No contest. Time for sleep prior to a 5a.m. departure for the last 65km of the ride.

Day 5 - Coxwold to Gamlingay
316km and 1,380 metres of climb.
196 miles with 4528 feet of up and down

Only 65km left, and 10 hours 50 minutes inside the time limit. Confident of finishing without completely ruining myself for the first time.

L-E-L Day Four

2009-08-16T21:41:00.009+01:00

Traquair to Coxwold
267km and 3237 metres of climbing

Having been sound asleep for about 3 hours, I semi-woke at around 1 a.m. and took a stagger out to the entrance to check on the weather. Peering bleary eyed through the doorway, it was obvious that the weather hadn't improved much. There was still a lot of wind and it was still hosing down with rain.

The volunteer on check-in-and-out duties informed me I should go back to sleep as I would not be allowed out into the night without company, and no-one else was going anywhere. Indeed, the hall was noticeably fuller than when I went to sleep. Additional riders had arrived from Edinburgh, and most had gone no further. I say most, since there were a couple of riders who got 2km past the control only to find themselves pushing their bikes downhill into the wind. They decided that the 43km to Eskdalemuir was a long way to walk, and turned back to the control. A motorcycle outrider was also in evidence, having escorted a semi-hypothermic (can you be semi-hypothermic?) American into the control from next to the cattle grid where he found him.

I later found out that one lone rider had made the journey overnight, the 45km taking 5 hours and resulting in an abandoned ride due to the fact that he subsequently lost control of his limbs for several hours until his core temperature warmed back up. Had I not overstayed my plan at Washingborough on the first night, I might well have been at Traquair at the time he left, and would certainly have accompanied him, probably with the same result. Success and failure hinges on such minutiae.

Another couple of hours of fitful sleep later, and everyone was being encouraged up for breakfast and getting on the road. Any longer and we would potentially have been out of time at Eskdalemuir. It was noticeable on this ride that the effects of latitude on daylight are more marked than you might imagine, and by 4 o'clock as we set out, night was fighting a steadily losing battle with the daylight. Dawn never really happened, it was such a grey morning that the dark just eventually gave up and went away.

There was still wind, but less than the previous day. There was still rain, but most of the sky's content was already on the ground. This was never more apparent than Ettrick Marshes, a lovely area in good weather, but obviously a little prone to dampness. Shortly after a turn, we were presented with a flooded stretch best described as 'tidal' with a strong current running right-to-left across the road, with the left-to-right return about 50 metres further on, and water lying on both sides of the road. Another corner and the road just disappeared. All there was, was water. The 'canal' before us was roughly bounded by trees, which soon disappeared round the next bend. Onward or backward? No choice. The water reached the bottom bracket as we rounded the bend but thankfully got no deeper, the flood petering out some 400 metres down the road. In order to perfect the photo opportunity, the heroic Paul re-entered the maelstrom (OK perhaps I exaggerate a little) just to prove it was there. Whilst I was putting the camera away a lady rider arrived still heading North (and already timed-out). She was determined though to reach Edinburgh and get a train back from there. The last we saw, she had her shoes dangling round her neck wading off through the flood. Chapeau!

The rest of the leg to Eskdalemuir passed without incident, and we arrived to a control in the 'recovery' stage from last nights unexpected crowds. There were still a few individuals there, some suffering from mechanicals, others just suffering. We took a relatively relaxed breakfast, and left Eskdalemuir at 8:15, 95km to go to Alston, and less than an hour inside the time limit.

The three of us stayed largely together until the last hill before Langholm, where Paul's knees started to exact their revenge, and he fell a little behind. In Langholm, just as on the way up, the heavens opened. The river (Esk?) was already in full spate, and mighty impressive all the way back to Longtown.

In Langholm, I waited on for Paul to go buy Ibuprofen (good ol' Vitamin I) whilst Tony pressed on. We were only 5 minutes or so behind, so we got the hammer down (a bit) on the A7 to see if we could catch up. At one point, I was convinced we'd seen Tony in the distance, but the next time I looked up, no-one was there. Longtown didn't take long, but rest was needed. Paul retired to a tea shop, whilst I could not resist the allure of a further bacon buttie from the Cobbles Sandwich Shop. Tony arrived mid-consumption having taken the more 'scenic' (hilly) old road back from Langholm.

Paul was nowhere to be seen, so I backtracked to find him comfortably settled in the company of another 2 cyclists in a warm tea shop. Wanting to make the most use of the day, Tony and I pressed on once we had let him know our plans.

The road to Alston through Brampton was a blur, except for a few climbs which stick in the mind as painful memories. On the approach to Alston, it began to cross my mind that I had not yet got off and pushed the heavy bike at any point of the ride, and it would be a shame to start now. The problem was Alston itself, and its cobbled High Street at 1-in-7. Reaching the bottom, I turned a low gear, sensibly remaining seated in case of rear-wheel-spin on the wet bricks. At this point the noise of a rapidly approaching tractor caused a quandary. If I kept going at my current rate, it would pass at the point of a parked car, shutting me off from the hill, causing me to stop in a place where restarting would be impossible. I gave it the gun, and sped past the parked vehicle carrying the speed past the market square and onto the last part of the High Street. The cobbles were done! The remainder of the climb to the Outdoor Centre was steep, but not difficult, and we rolled in at 13:56 over 2 and a half hours inside the time limit.

Taking an elongated refuelling stop, I lost Tony as he went on ahead whilst he felt like cycling. I tottered out about 15 minutes later and onto the climb to Yad Moss. Despite this being the steeper side, the climb did not feel as bad as the darkened descent of 2 days earlier, and I was soon at the top. A couple of Dutch riders passed as I was using the mobile phone signal at the top, so I had riders to chase on the long descent to Middleton-in-Teesdale. They were no match for my flurry of descending lard. Once I had used the whole road round a couple of the wider bends my momentum was such that they could not keep up without pedalling and I was gone. There were flat sections which I am sure were not there 2 days previous, but the rest of the ride to Middleton Tyas passed without too much difficulty (though the granny gear was much in evidence at times). For most of this section I was riding on roads obviously deluged by rain, but I never got rained on once. I arrived at Middleton Tyas at 18:36, only an hour down on my original plan, but by now was finding it hard to restrict the rest stops to the short ones planned. It was beginning to look like the 45km extra at the start of the day might just make Thorne a little too far off for tonight (and London too far off the following night).

I rejoined Tony at the control, and we set off together for Coxwold, with the intention of seeing how we felt once we got there. This section was just as eminently forgettable as on the way north, save for the fact that night fell quickly (and much earlier than in Scotland) just before we reached Coxwold. We rolled in at 21:45, still only about 90 minutes down on my plan, but I just couldn't face any more cycling in the dark, so we ate and retired for another early start the following day.

Traquair to Coxwold
267km and 3237 metres of climbing
166 miles and 10,620 feet of climbing

1,022 kilometres done, perhaps tomorrow I could start to think about counting down to the finish, but London was looking just that little bit too far away.......

L-E-L Day Three

2009-08-03T21:19:00.006+01:00

Alston to Traquair (Southbound)
215km and 3,160 metres of climbing

It is always nice to wake up rather than to be woken, and this is what I managed at Alston to begin Day Three. The body clock functioned perfectly, waking me at 5:50 ahead of a 6:00 wake up call. In the top bunk next to the window, I could hear the muted sound of randonneurs fettling their bikes outside, together with gusts of wind. A glance round the curtain gave an unexpected view of a brilliant sunny morning, spoilt somewhat by the fact that every long blade of grass was doing its best to lay flat on the ground out of the wind. Depending on the prevailing direction, today might be very difficult indeed.

Downstairs the hospitality for breakfast was already in full swing, having never really stopped as they were by now dealing full-on with riders arriving from both directions. Indeed, I had seen the first echelons of those returning South as I ascended Yad Moss the previous evening. How could they be so fast? Research would indicate that many had made it to Edinburgh with either less than 2 hours sleep, or in some cases no sleep at all. Rather them than me. I think I know my limitations enough to know I would get gradually slower to the point where sleep will actually GAIN me time.

Breakfast was the customary mixture of staples such as muesli, beans on toast and bacon butties but, instead of them fully reviving me, I suddenly began to feel terrible. My face was glowing, my chest feeling "slightly absent", feeling sweaty and faint and generally awful. Nonetheless, I went outside to fettle the bike, and twitter to the watching masses. This revealed the view from the Outdoor Centre I had missed the previous night.
Utterly fabulous, and this was the way we were going today, no matter how I felt.

The short drag to the main road didn't help but, by the time I had accelerated to 45kmh downhill to Alston, the cold air had revived me and as quickly as I had felt ill, I felt fine again. Weird.

Alston was 'interesting'. The 1 in 7? High Street with its rectangular cobbles was still slick from the previous night rain, and by the bottom my hands and arms were aching from grasping the brakes so tightly. As we turned for Brampton, and the road toward Scotland, the road kicked up again, and I went backwards relative to many other riders although the legs were again feeling stronger than the day before. One of the people who overtook me on this hill was wearing 'heritage' Brooks Kit and passed seemingly effortlessly, although I would catch him again later.

Along this section I was passing and being passed by a small group of Italians, they would pass when I took photos (such as this one looking Scotlandwards) and then I would overtake them again on the road.

It is worth noting that one of these Italian gentlemen was a fellow called Carlos, who had his bike nicked from outside a cafe just before the start. He borrowed a hybrid 'city' bike from an employee and rode the whole of LEL on it, wearing just the clothes he stood up in and the contents of his bag drop at Dalkeith. Stories of the rider arriving at Washinborough clad in cling film (he had no wet weather gear) are already the stuff of legend. Whenever I saw him at controls he NEVER stopped smiling. Chapeau to you sir!

They may have stopped for coffee at Brampton, for it was here that I lost sight of them. The road to Longtown was full of other sights though, mainly the increasing flow of returning riders on their often wonderful machines. Uprights, recumbents, a rowing bike (look it up) and even two fully enclosed HPV's. All of them a good 200 km ahead of me.

Between Brampton and Longtown, I recaught the Brooks-clad rider, who introduced himself as Tony who actually lives not too far away from me. It was with he and Paul (the guy I saw the night previous) that I would conclude much of this ride, and I feel that their company was a primary reason for my success.

The Cobbles Sandwich shop in Longtown provided welcome fuel ahead of a fast-as-possible thrash along the A7 to Langholm, and the turn onto quieter roads. Tony rode ahead as I went for the rain gear in Langholm but again, as soon as I had it on, the rain stopped. The hills started after Langholm, but I made it into Eskdalemuir at 12:05 only a couple of minutes down on him. It was also worth noting that there was a ferocious following wind that would help all the way to Dalkeith (but not back).

Leaving Eskdalemuir we set of towards Edinburgh, knowing that there are 5 distinct climbs on this section. None are particularly bad, but the cumulative effect was to prove draining. But the wind helped. And did it ever help! Every climb was at about 15kmh (much faster than I am normally capable of) and every descent a 65kmh blast downhill past the struggling faces of those still returning. Of course I did my best to take no obvious pleasure in this, since it would be my turn soon enough.

After the 4th of the 5 climbs we arrived in Traquair and were diverted into the "Secret Control" in the village hall. What a control this was. This was the first occasion where I have ever been served a dram of single malt whisky at an Audax. With cake. I hope it will not be the last. Dragging ourselves back to the road, we progressed through Innerleithen and the picturesque stretch past the Golf Course to the last climb before Dalkeith.

Tony & I left Paul behind on this stretch as he had to make an unscheduled stop, but this was again a blessing as waiting at the top revealed the view of where we had just come from. On our return, into the still strengthening wind, and with horizontal rain in our faces, it would look nothing like this. Over the brow of the main climb, the wind was now strong enough that we could freewheel along the flattish but still uphill top section before the view over Edinburgh was finally revealed.

This final descent seemed to last for almost 14km right into Dalkeith which, not a bustling metropolis, was uncomfortably busy compared to the solitary riding we had been doing.

Cutting short the turnaround in Dalkeith, and replacing kit from the bag drop there, we set off back into the gale and commencing rain. By the time we reached the top of the first climb back, virtually an hour had already passed and, instead of a 65kmh blast downhill, we found ourselves pedalling hard to achieve 20kmh. Amazingly, when we reached Innerleithen in the wind and rain, there were still golfers out on the course! Who in their right mind would be still out in that weather?????

As we passed through Innerleithen, the heavens really opened, and the rain became a real problem. Reaching the secret control at Traquair, we went in despite the fact it was only supposed to be a control Northbound, and was due to close at 10p.m. At 9 o'clock we were debating when/if to get back on the road when Ivo, a dutch rider, arrived with news from Eskdalemuir. The control there was rammed with people unwilling to go further against the elements, and we were to be kept at Traquair until the worst of the weather subsided.

Decision made, Paul had the genius idea of combining the village hall seats into impromptu beds, and we headed to an unexpectedly early sleep at about 10p.m. still about 45km north of where I had hoped to be.

Day 3 over
215km with 3,160 metres of climbing
134 miles with 10,367 feet of climbing

Tomorrow would have to be a longer day. If the weather allowed.

L-E-L Day Two

2009-08-02T21:09:00.010+01:00

Washingborough to Alston
323 km and 2041 metres of climbing

5 a.m. in Washingborough came around far too soon and much of the preceding 4 hours was spent not so much asleep as just not quite awake. I made the mistake of having nothing to rest my head upon, and after a night on a hard floor was as stiff as one of the floorboards themselves. At least the earplugs and the buff rolled down over the eyes worked in generating a quiet and dark sleeping environment. This would help later.

Breakfast was taken in the Community Centre, whilst glowering at the rotten weather outside. Foul weather gear again then. The wind had also swung round to be mostly Westerly. Not good. Much of the next section, when not heading North, would be into the wind. Leaving at 5:35, I was already over an hour behind plan, and could not get going. I was bemoaning this at the time, little did I know that it was to save me from much, much worse later on.

Wragby was the first control of the day, a quick check-and-go to confirm that we had added the necessary miles to make up to the full 1,400 kilometres. Then the westerly wind made its presence felt. The Fens have no protection from the wind, and there was plenty of it. Progress felt slow, and worse still was tiring. The total leg of 105km is far too long for me to do without refuelling, and I was in dire straits by the time I got to Kirton in Lindsey where Holt's Stores came to my rescue. This was the first point where I was asked what was going on. People had seen cyclists a-plenty of multiple nationalities since the night before, and were genuinely interested in what was going on. Perhaps next time the Audax UK publicity machine may get wider coverage. Fed, and with well wishes from within the shop, I set off again for Thorne.

It was a long time coming in the wind, and I finally rolled into Thorne at 10:25 where the Danial Webb hospitality machine was efficiency itself. Food was on the table almost before I had sat down, and my tired legs were soon being well refuelled.

I managed to get in and out of the Thorne control in 35 minutes, but it was apparent that I would not make it all the way to Coxwold without some form of mid-section sustenance. A garage provided the necessary sandwich which was later consumed in Sutton on Derwent whilst sitting on a bench beneath a conker tree when the sun eventually came out.

Unfortunately the sun brought with it thunderstorms, one of which broke completely overhead at Bubwith with the lightening and thunder almost simultaneous. What do you do? Keep cycling out in the open? Hide under a tree? In the end I stopped at the side of the road to gear up for foul weather in the midst of rain rebounding up 2 feet off the road. By the time I had my wet weather gear on, it had almost stopped. The wind was still horrid.

Shortly before Coxwold, the hills start again and at this point I started going better. It seems that I don't do 'flat' that well since my style is to coast or freewheel often to get small recoveries among the effort. You can't do this on the Fens into the wind. Nonetheless after a stinker of a hill at Crayke, I was glad to see the sleepy village of Coxwold in the distance. I finally rolled in there at 15:36, just over an hour and a half behind schedule.

Frankly, at this point I felt like packing. The 190km of Fens and wind had really taken their toll and I was very very tired. Coxwold control were ready for this and administered Coca Cola and Pasta, together with other carbs. By the time I had climbed out of the village, and checked in at home once I got a phone signal, I was ready to go again. The next section, though hillier, was only 52 km to Middleton Tyas.

It was also eminently forgettable. I remember almost nothing of this section except being in company for the first time. Problem is, I can't remember who. By this point the brain was on the way out. However, I apparently took this picture near Newby Wiske. Looks more like France than Yorkshire. Full feed and leisurely stop required. Arriving at Middleton Tyas, I was fed quickly and put back on the bike in next to no time. So much for the leisurely stop. It was already 19:45 and I still had 75km to go over Yad Moss to Alston before bed.

The first section just seems like a series of small climbs and I was surprised to find the legs actually stronger as the ride progressed. Just as well given the state they felt they were in at the end of day one.

On this section, you can see the Pennines looming in the distance for quite some way out, and by the time you reach Barnard Castle, you can tell you are in for a workout. Given that it was also already dusk, this workout would be in the dark.

Middleton in Teesdale seemed to be miles from Barnard Castle, and it was already way past 10p.m. before I got there, with all the Yad Moss Climb to come. In retrospect it was probably best that I couldn't see how long it went on for.

The road past High Force was a noisy place, not from traffic but from the sounds of rushing water from the River Tees below. It must be a real sight in daylight. It was around here (I think at the High Force Hotel) that I caught sight of Paul, Rider 121, with whom I would ride a lot of the later sections. He was suffering from an attack of the dozies and was sitting down to snooze and recover before tackling the remainder of the climb. The only steep section of Yad Moss is near Langdon Beck, and it was here that a Dutch rider passed me and disappeared uphill. Some distance further on, with about 3km of the climb left, I could still see his rear light blinking in the far distance. On went the MP3 player, and I went after him. Even in "Lance Mode" spinning like mad, I couldn't catch him by the top, but was only about 500m behind him. At this point one of the most memorable points of my ride happened. As I came over the top of Yad Moss, I got into my best impression of an aero-tuck and went after him.

Descending Yad Moss following the snaking rear light of the bike in front round the bends at 65kmh, in the dark, at almost midnight, with Bon Jovi's "Dead or Alive" blasting from the MP3 - priceless!

He was surprised when I passed. Not by the fact that I passed (he had a rear view mirror) but by the fact that I was still dressed in just bibshorts and cycling jersey. He was wrapped up like it was December. We both arrived at the Alston control at 00:01, as the spots of rain started falling more heavily. Bikes were hastily chucked on the grass and panniers removed. Inside the Outdoor Centre was a haven of warmth and dryness. Just as well. At 00:03 the heavens opened with torrential hail and even higher winds. Now that's what I call good timing.

It took another 10 minutes to gather enough coherence to find my Brevet Card and check in, and a further hour to eat drink and be found a bed. But I was found a bed. A real one with duvet mattress and pillows! Unashamed luxury for the next 5 hours.

Day 2 over
323 kilometres and 2,041 metres of climbing
201 miles and 6696 feet of climbing

Tomorrow we were going to Scotland, and its hilly up there

L-E-L Day One

2009-08-02T20:19:00.006+01:00

Lee Valley to Washingborough (Lincoln)
216km, 1489 metres of climbing

Not surprisingly, I didn't need waking by the alarm on Sunday morning, the adrenaline doing a pretty good job on its own.

Breakfast was at least a civilised affair, with all of the obligatory faffing having been done the night before, and all the equipment etc already loaded into the car. GPS behaved itself and faultlessly delivered me to Lee Valley YHA by just after 10 a.m. I was still concerned at this point by the total weight of bike and kit I would be carrying but by now it was far too late to jettison anything else.
The necessary "before" photograph having been taken, my wife departed back for home, leaving me to kill the three hours up to my start time.

I managed to do this by checking out the weird and wonderful bikes on display, both those seemingly homebuilt

and those lacking a certain something (eg a seatpost)

This was the only time I would see any of these, they left before me and I never caught them up.

2 p.m. came around very quickly, though it was apparent at the start that these were the 'rump' of the riders, the higher density groups having already left. This was confirmed just 5 km from the start, on the climb to Brickendon Woods where I found myself already riding alone with the back of the group occasionally visible where the road was straight for long enough. This first section was fairly rolling, if not hilly, and I did find the hills difficult to judge. Sure I could have blitzed up them out of the saddle, but what would that mean for the rest of the ride?

Riders from the following start groups came (and largely went) before the first stop at Gamlingay (not obligatory, but they had CAKE). I arrived there almost an hour ahead of plan worrying that I might have gone out too fast.

This worry didn't stop me going off head down for Thurlby a further 86km North at a high rate of knots. Again riders passed and disappeared, and I was mostly on my own. The following wind dropped as evening approached, and drizzly rain started about an hour short of the destination, getting gradually heavier as the control approached.

King Street, south of Thurlby is a dead straight section of road for about 10 miles. On this section I collected a group consisting mainly of french riders, or rather they collected me and then sat on my back wheel all the way to the control. No matter what speed I did, they just sat there. Thurlby was reached at 20:20 now almost 2 hours early, but by now I was feeling ominously tired.

Thurlby Control, like most, was excellent but most memorable for serving Strawberries & Cream to all riders in exceedingly never-seen-at-Wimbledon large portions. Suitably fortified, I joined many other riders in donning foul weather gear for the section north to Washingborough, and set off into the gathering gloom in a disjointed group of about 20.

This group fragmented over the drags to Sleaford, and by the time I reached the town I was on my own again. Sleaford was not the easiest place to navigate and once I had negotiated the town onto the long straight roads of Lincolnshire, there was no other rider to be seen all the way to Washingborough. And it was tipping it down.

Miserably, I ground my way into Washingborough at 00:01 thoroughly bedraggled and dog tired. I had already decided that any time ahead of plan would be used in additional sleep, and with the rain forecast to continue well into the next morning, decided to take even more time, being woken at 5 a.m. Decisions made, and well fed, I retreated to the floor of the sports pavilion to get some rest.

Day One over
216km in the day and 1489 metres of hills
(134 miles and 4885 feet of climbing)

Tomorrow was scheduled to be my longest day

How many?

2009-08-02T20:18:00.001+01:00

Noticed the deliberate mistake, in that I got all of the dates on the plan one day wrong?

Of course, the event started on Sunday 26th, not 25th, and finished on the 31st.

Ooops! Not an auspicious start.

I have a cunning plan.....................

2009-07-21T21:39:00.006+01:00

a plan so cunning, you could pin a tail on it, and call it a Weasel. If only....

So, there has to be a planned timetable to get me back to London inside 116 hours, so here it is (slightly tweaked for errors).

The idea will be to lengthen (or more probably shorten) the sleep periods to keep with the timetable.

Well, that at least is the plan, but as (I think it was) Napoleon once said, "No plan survives first contact with the enemy". We shall see.

Time to stop posting, and start getting ready. I'll leave the rest to Twitter

(T) Wittering

2009-07-21T21:32:00.001+01:00

So, the resident technophobe has learned how to twitter. So I'll be twittering from on the road during L-E-L, if only to ensure that I have a reminder of what was happening when I get back.

On my only other long ride (500km+) so far, my mind retreated to a place of safety and refused to come back out for the best part of a week.

7 days to go....

2009-07-19T20:28:00.002+01:00

...and I suppose I'd better whip up some urgency to get ready for LEL.

Presently, I'm very 'relaxed' about it, but then the faffing and associated worrying hasn't started yet. At least I now have my kit-list done, and will be ticking things off this week.

On a 'positive' note, the result of the Cambrian 600 is now up on t'internet, and so far lists only 15 finishers. This would be another indication that ride was a pig! I counted 35 or so starters in the car park on Saturday morning. I make that an attrition rate of about 60%. Lets hope LEL has a 100% completion rate, at least I'll be certain to finish then.

New Toys

2009-07-17T21:23:00.005+01:00

You can't do a big ride like LEL without new toys, can you?

Certainly not!

Firstly, after the Cambrian Ride, the realisation that foul weather gear is needed. Everyone was raving about Rainlegs, thus I have a pair. Despite looking more than faintly ridiculous, they perform brilliantly, keeping the rain off the bits that get most struck by water, whilst allowing the fresh air to circulate round the back of the legs to avoid the perspiration. Clive rating 9/10. (Apparently, the Dragons Den lot weren't as impressed, but when do you reckon any of them were last on a bike?)

Secondly, bibshorts. I went into the Local Bike Shop last week to buy 'cheapish' Altura Shorts, and came out with many pounds worth of Specialised BG Pro RBX Bib Shorts (all those acronyms, they MUST be good). I wore them for the 205km Two Battles Permanent Ride last weekend, and assumed that I must have been standing on the pedals all the way round. Not a single twinge from the human-bicycle interface. Clive's backside rates them 10/10. The only problem will be justifying the expenditure (for the second pair).

Finally, there's no point in being relatively dry, and relatively comfortable, if you're going to get lost and cycle further than you need to. Third toy - a new Garmin eTrex Legend GPS unit. Amazon were selling this for about £65 under the RRP, so it was time to buy.

The basemap included in the unit is (as widely reported) utter rubbish, but I have quickly got to grips with the excellent OpenStreetMap (www.openstreetmap.org) which is an open source code alternative. On the downside, the UK map is not quite complete. On the upside, the UK map is not complete, and anyone with a GPS can upload, store and update GPS tracks, then add them to the map (which is a damn good excuse for getting out there, I've already added over 30km of local lanes). Clive rating 8/10 (mostly marked down for the poor basemap)

Toys at the ready! It's not long 'til LEL, but I've done sufficient miles already this month (300+) that a successful LEL will give me a 1200 mile month.

Les Tours de Mercredi

2009-07-17T21:14:00.005+01:00

A few weeks ago Chris, a work colleague and cycling friend, ran a charity ride from Stratford-on-Avon which a number of others from the office also rode.

Everyone arrived at the finish with smiles as wide as the (believe it or not) sunny Warwickshire sky, proclaiming they had forgotten cycling was so much fun.

Suggestions were made that repeats were required, and "Le Tour de Mercredi" was born. These depart the office early on Wednesday evenings for between 20-35 miles of local roads, with a (less than) optional 'refreshment' stop en route (surely we can't be blamed that the cafes are all shut by then, and only the pubs are open?)

So far, 8 people have shown up in total, in groups varying between 4 and 6 each week. My enthusiasm is re-kindled by the fun of tackling local climbs, hurling and receiving of well-mannered banter, and dropping the hammer on those who's attention strays from the task at hand.

I'm beginning to remember why I enjoy cycling again.

Back on the road again

2009-07-17T20:51:00.002+01:00

As far as LEL is concerned, the training plan would have you believe that it is good to do more than one 600km event before LEL. Obviously, this is not happening.

However, Audax rules are such that, to obtain credit for a ride, you must finish it. Therefore, in terms of the RTTY, where I must do a 200km event in every calendar month, doing 1300km of LEL and stopping would not count, and I would end the year RTTY-less. Now, please understand, I have no intention of failing on LEL, but it's best to plan ahead for all eventualities.

So, with this in mind, I set off last Saturday on the Two Battles permanent 200km, for the first 'serious' event since the Cambrian.

Guess what? It rained! At least the morning rain was drizzly in the most part, and for the most part warm, so we didn't get too miserable. I had my new toys with me, both rainlegs and Garmin (and more of those in a later post) but didn't really need either.

Service at the first control was not swift, so we were sat in the control losing over 45 minutes, and the second section was lumpy to Upper Stowe near Daventry, but not too slow.

I am noticing that after enforced rest and the exertions of the Cambrian 600 that 'normal' roads and hills seem neither as steep, or as long. I hope that this is in my legs, and not just in my head.

After lunch at Upper Stowe, it was noted that it was already 14:15 following a 08:30 start, and we were not progressing quickly. Couple that with a worsening forecast, and it was time to get the hammer well-and-truly down.

The afternoon sunshine was very warm, but unfortunately brought out clouds of crawly little thunderbugs, which were not a pleasure to cycle through. Legs kept turning as conversation virtually stopped, but control 3 came and went very quickly.

In the end, we got back to Tamworth at 18:36 for a time of 10:06 for 205km. More impressive (at least by my standards) was completing the last 104km in 4:26, including a stop at the last control.

Overall time 10:06
Cycling time 8:15
Average cycling speed 24.85kmh / 15.44mph!!!!! for 127 miles

I hope I haven't peaked too early.

3/4 RTTY and counting

Fame at last!!

2009-07-17T20:33:00.004+01:00

Following calls and e-mails from many people who take more notice of these things than I do, I have been out and got my "Tour de France Preview" version of that great cyclist's comic, Cycling Weekly.

Sure enough, it contains details and photographs of all the greats of world cycling, Contador, Armstrong, Boonen, Cavendish.................and me!

Somehow, and for some reason, the picture of me hitting the top of Penhallt Cliff on the North Cornwall Tor in the company of Mike Fedarb (hope you go well in the Etape mate) was deemed to be representative of why people do Sportives....."for pride, for health, for fun".

I think they got that about right, but they forgot:
1. for pity's sake, will this hill never end, and
2. for the last time, if I ever enter this event again, will somebody shoot me?

Apart from that, I am pleased to report that I was 71% successful at obeying doctors orders about my feet (I only rode twice a week) and am now back in preparation for LEL, which is now a scant 9 days off.

Enforced layoff

2009-06-22T17:31:00.001+01:00

This morning's trip to the doctor was both good and bad.

Good:
No circulatory problems
No nerve damage

BAD:
Soft tissue damage to toes, foot and metatarsal area

2 week course of prescription strength anti-inflammatories
Accompanying painkillers originally developed for bringing down bull elephants

2 week cycling ban until feet recovered, dammit!

This gives me the excuse to miss the Offa's Dyke Audax (which owing to the amount of climbing I would probably have failed to finish anyway) and focus on my preparations for LEL. I will try to get another 200km in before LEL, just in case I fail to finish and thus miss my RTTY.

I almost forgot.........

2009-06-19T21:03:00.002+01:00

After the Dragon Ride, I have now done over 12,000 miles since starting cycling at a rate of 4,000 miles per year.

The Weatherpocalypse counts towards the RTTY, so I am now 2/3 of the way to completion.

I now only need a 400km Audax to get a Super-Randonneur Series award (riding 100, 200, 300, 400 and 600km events in a single year)

If I complete a 400km and LEL, I 'only' need 5 more 200km events to achieve a 5000km award for the current year.

You've got to love new targets.

On the other hand, I still don't love my feet. The pain from them now only abates when I have my cycling shoes on (shame!). I guess I'd better see the Doc' on Monday to find out what sort of damage I have done to them.

A short, gentle Wedding Anniversary tootle round the lanes may be called for first, though.

Enter, The Dragon

2009-06-19T20:34:00.003+01:00

Some time ago, before Weatherpocalypse 600's were even considered, I entered the Dragon Sportive in South Wales, having heard the lads at the bike shop extol the virtues of it's 'almost Alpine' climbs. I thought at the time "I'm having some of that". After the Weatherpocalypse, I thought "I'll have a little bit of that" and decided to do the shorter route, knowing I was already tired.

In the week before the event, even the short course seemed dubious. The cold and endurance of the previous weekend weakened my resistance to the extent that I contracted the worst case of 'Montezumas Revenge"/Delhi Belly/Call-it-what-you will that I have ever experienced. Clear fluids only for three whole days! At least by the day before the ride, I was well on the road to recovery and 10lbs lighter. (Perhaps I could get it again next week....)

On the Saturday myself, Mrs H and sundry colleagues rode a local 25 mile charity ride in about 2 hours, and I felt fine. Off to South Wales, then.

The organisation of the Dragon Ride is first class, with the exception of parking, which left a queue onto the M4. We dodged this by doubling back from the next junction, and were away in large groups before 9 a.m.

This was the biggest field of riders I had seen since last years Etape, and I had forgotten how good big pelotons are. We fairly rocketed to the first climbs where, as usual, everyone else kept going and I slowed down. That said, the climbs are not stupidly steep, and I went well up to the top of the Bwlch (1st time). What a descent! I wish I could have seen the look on the teenage spot-monster's face as the Datameister Express shot past his Honda Hairdryer down the other side. Looking over my shoulder as I relaxed and freewheeled, I was being followed by a number of racing snakes, all pedalling frantically to keep up. Sometimes its great to be heavy!

Rhigos Mountain is another great long, drawn-out climb achieved in the saddle throughout, with another 50mph descent the other side. Sanity prevailed at the bottom, and I turned onto the short course. That area is one of fantastic countryside and enjoyable big-ring touring, at least as far as the Cimla climb out of Neath.

On the first corner, there was Howard from Team Cycling+ getting his heart rate down. Pleasantries exchanged, I carried on until I had the same problem higher up, retreating to a park bench. I was determined on this ride not to turn myself inside out, but to complete comfortably. I thought that I was getting a few strange glances from other riders, and when remounting discovered this was because I had stopped only 200 metres short of the second feed station. Oh well.....

Bwlch2 was even longer, and did require a couple of rest stops in the increasing heat, but I reached the top out of the saddle for the benefit of the waiting photographer. Descending the way we came up in the morning was another blast of freewheeling speed before the short final drag up and last, 'dangerous' descent. There is just one bad bend on the descent, a bend totalling about 270 degrees, tightening as you go round. I made it (slowly) I gather a racing snake came to grief later.

In the final 10km myself and another 2 riders averaged over 30kmh, although I lost the 'sprint' to both of them at the finish.

GREAT FUN!!

Now, about the performance. I was determined to get round the short course, and enjoy myself. No turning myself inside out, no dragging lungs behind me up the climbs. This I thought I did......until the results were published.

82 miles, 132 kilometers in 6:34:10, of which 6:14:22 was actual cycling.
Average speed 21.1kmh, 13.1 mph on a course with 2799 Memory Map Metres of climbing!

Looking at Memory Map when I finished, I tried to analyse my ride using its formula of :
Distance/speed on flat + time lost on ascents - time gained on descents
and could only calculate my time when inputting the best figures from last years sportive riding. (30kmh on flat + 30 seconds per 10 metres climbed - 6 seconds per 10m descended)

Therefore, my Dragon performance was not only the best of the year to date, but just as good (although over a shorter distance) as any sportive last year, Etape included.

Mighty pleased!

The Cambrian (Weatherpocalypse) 600

2009-06-17T19:47:00.002+01:00

For some months I have had a 600km Audax pre-LEL pencilled into the diary. I was even organised enough to enter it.

So, in the early morning rain on 7th June, I found myself donning foul-weather gear in Hazel Grove, Stockport. The weather forecast was not good, but we cyclists are hard, right?

I was still faffing when the whistle went, and all but two riders (me being one) disappeared. 5 minutes later, I set off, last bar one. On the first climb of the day, the chain came off and, as I was remounting, the remaining rider shot past like a scalded cat. Last on the road. With the GPS eventually deciding to work, I set off towards Wem in the increasingly heavy rain. I caught one rider on the road to Wem, and found a few still at the cafe control, including some who were already packing and going home.

The next leg to Church Stretton was not too arduous, but still wet and shortly before Church Stretton the rain intensified. I found a cash machine for proof of passage, and a chip shop that provided sitting space in the dry, from where I could watch my bike.

Given that the rain showed no sign of letting up, I got back out before I got too comfortable, heading for Builth Wells, and beyond Knighton, the start of the hilly section. The hills were sapping, especially given the wet weather, and this section was slower. Nonetheless, I arrived in Builth on the scheduled time, although the ensuing stop was longer than expected.

Leaving Builth for Aberystwyth via the mountain road, it was apparent that I would be on my own for long sections, the fast riders having gone, and many of the slower riders having packed. The Elan Valley mountain road is superb, long open views of rugged countryside and no-one for miles. Unfortunately, it goes on for miles and progress was slow. It was on one of the descents on this section that a grating noise from the rear wheel heralded the exhaustion of my rear brake blocks. 325km to go, and only one set of brakes. Thankfully, this was also the end of the steep descents.

Leaving Aberystwyth at 11pm (already on the road for 17 hours) progress was painfully slow, uphill and into horizontal rain. On this section speeds were often down to 6 or 7 kmh, and I didn't get to Newtown until 3:30 a.m. The sun never actually came up on the Sunday, but it got light shortly after Newtown. After Montgomery, at about 5 a.m. I had an attack of the dozies, and retreated to a dry and non-windy bus shelter to snatch 10 minutes of sleep. This was to be the only sleep I would get on the ride.

Breakfast at Shrewsbury was followed by a lumpy section to an info control at Coalport. In Ironbridge, just 2 miles short of the control, the heavens opened, and the road became a flood. Water was over the bottom bracket, and wet feet got even wetter.There was no point getting off, I would only have been standing in 12 inches of water holding my bike, so I carried on. On arrival at Cannock (11a.m. and 152km to go)I phoned my wife. She was only 25 minutes away by car at home, and I still do not know how I managed not to ask her to come get me.

Finally, after Cannock, rain relented to drizzle, although by now the roads were well flooded. I splashed my way to Whitchurch, though not without missing an info control and adding 5km to the total by having to go back for it. The last section was slow, but I got through it in deep conversation with my legs. With the correct amount of cajoling "the ladies" (my legs) got me back to Hazel Grove, and checked in by 8:25 for a total of 38hours 25 minutes, of which it rained for about 34 hours.

10 days later, my legs are recovered, not so my feet. Immersion in water for so long (and being cold) has left them a bit swollen and very painful. I'm told this will pass. I really hope so.

At least I finished. Many did not. I have learned a lot, not least that I must sleep regularly to maintain speed, and will be tailoring my LEL approach accordingly. I also reckon that I can finish LEL, since many hardened veterans reckon that this years Cambrian 600 was the hardest ride of their lives. Trust me to pick it as my first.

All aboard the Tramway!

2009-06-17T19:31:00.002+01:00

Immediately after the Etape du Dales, I decided that a full two weeks rest to shake the effects of the man-flu was needed.

I almost managed it, too, until Ray from Tamworth CC phoned to ask if I was doing the Crich Tramway Audax (100k) and could he cadge a lift. I wasn't, but a quick re-appraisal encouraged me to enter on the line. This would also be a good assessment of how I was going as it was the first ride I did with Mark (one of the First Time Etappers) two years previously.

The first impressions were that there was going to be an improvement. For a start, there was sunshine and not claggy, cold fog this year. Secondly, we got entered and faffed in time for the start, and got off on time, too.

Actually seeing the Derbyshire countryside this time was tremendous, and the first leg to Owler Bar over never-flat terrain went quickly. There soon followed the stunning descent to Hathersage, which has to be one of the best views in the Peaks. This led to the first control, under scorching sunshine, and a not-so-rapid bacon buttie.

Leaving Hathersage, the climb past the gliding club at Abney was still hard, but I didn't have to stop this time. Equally, having learned the lessons of last time, we stuck to the main road down into Millers Dale (the minor road has 1:6 gradient AND gravel, neither of which shorten my stopping distance). From Millers Dale up to Brierlow Bar seems uphill forever, but we were both going reasonably well (Ray much better up the climbs since he is only 9 stone wringing wet).

The climb from Glutton Bridge up to the traffic light above Longnor is a tester at the best of times, but I stayed on throughout and soon descended to the second control in Hollinsclough. Now was the time to refuel. Only 4 miles away was Longnor, and 5 minutes beyond that Crowdecote, one of my many nemeses. I have only 'climbed' Crowdecote once without either walking or putting a foot down, and I can only claim that since one of the Spud Riley Feedstops was halfway up last year, so stopping wasn't frowned upon.

This time, under blazing skies, I conquered it. Straight up, not stopping, no walking, no great speed, but who cares? Once back at the main road, we took the Via Gellia option, blasting downhill for miles in a small group as far as Cromford.

Now, Crich is on a hill, so no matter which way you leave it, you have to go uphill to the finish. Two years ago, this was a lovely walk. This year I rode it, pushing all the way to the finish (and pint) at the Cliff Inn.

Total Elapsed time: 6:10
Riding Time 5:10
1:20 faster than 2 years ago for 102km and 1990m of climbing.

1990m of climbing? This event doesn't carry climbing points. Having asked one of the organisers, they admitted that if they broadcast how much climbing was involved no-one would turn up, much less the days contingent of 125 riders so they keep quiet. Never mind.

Sunny. Warm. Chuffed.

Etape du Dales

2009-06-17T19:18:00.002+01:00

There are times when my words end up being prophetic, and probably as many times I end up wishing they weren't.

The Etape du Dales was indeed very hard work.

In the end, I decided on the Kinesis for its lower gears, and whether this was the right decision or not I shall probably never know.

However, the inevitable late arrival and pre-ride faff left me leaving much later than expected, and worrying about the cutoff. This worry was not alleviated by arriving at the foot of Fleets Moss only a minute faster than last year, despite a stiffish tail wind. It was further not helped by realising when the road kicked up that my legs contained a big fat NOTHING! There was no cadence to be had, and no strength either. Evidently, the man-flu had left me lower than I first thought.

The descent from Fleets Moss was 'interesting'. The combination of heavier rider and heavier bike lent itself to a new kamikaze sumo cyclist land speed record of 55mph! Unfortunately, this coincided with a Calgary-Stampede-Rodeo quality speed wobble. Fortunately, I remembered the advice read on forums to grip the top tube between the knees, and I can confirm that this does work. I can also confirm that when you reach the valley floor some 2 miles later, still a gibbering wreck, and finally release the top tube, you are likely to have cramp in your thighs.

From there the ride just went ever more slowly. I was briefly off the bike before Tan Hill, and clambered over Lamps Moss, hitting the inevitable head wind about 50 miles from home. Head down, I managed to get 4 minutes inside the cutoff at the Moorcock Inn (there was no way I wanted to go back over Fleets Moss the other way) and slowly set about the Coal Road. Most of the Coal Road was ridden, and the rain started at the top. At least it cooled the rims and there was no danger of last years unintended exit over the handlebars on the same section.

I was caught before Newby Head by Mike Fedarb, who is doing this years Etape, and he kindly stayed with me to the bitter end. With increasing rain, I had to stop several times in the last 10 miles to wipe the salt from my eyes as it was washed off my forehead, leaving me almost blind on some of the descents.

Final finish time was a10:59:47, only a scant few seconds inside 11 gruelling hours, and some 2 1/2 hours slower than last year.

Not happy.

To Skeggy with Everyone

2009-05-13T19:58:00.002+01:00

On Friday I decided that the lingering effects of the man-flu were insufficient to deter me from my first 300km Audax, so the alarm was set for ridiculous o'clock to get to Alfreton for the 6 a.m. start.

Perhaps I should have consulted Multimap, as I was the first to arrive in the chilly still-dusk, breezy morning.

All-in-all 50 (idiots) hardy souls started the event, leaving Alfreton into the rolling Nottinghamshire countryside, with the wind at their backs. This swiftly put paid to the "go slowly at the start" plan, as my average speed all the way to Skegness was almost 26kmh.

Even with a proper food stop at each control, I was still well up on schedule approaching Sutton-on-Sea. My self-congratulation was interrupted by a metallic "tink" from about 100 yards behind me, followed seconds later by a "Tok" and a golf ball sailed over my head, striking the road twice more as it passed up the highway, coming to rest in the long grass on the opposite side of the road. Not so much as a "Fore", but I consoled myself with the fact that the golfer must have then played "3 off the tee" with his first effort significantly out of bounds, and no felled cyclist as compensation.

GPS delivered me to the info control at Sutton with no directional mishap, but then the ride really started. Leaving Sutton, and the protection of the buildings, the South-Westerly wind hit with a vengeance. 140km to go, and the wind not scheduled to let up until early evening. Horrifying.

Horncastle came and went, and Lincoln eventually appeared on the horizon, it's cathedral dominating the landscape from the only significant hill for miles. Unfortunately, my GPS wasn't best programmed in Lincoln, and I took a closer look at the hill than most, missing the left turn at the bottom.

After a little faff at the final garage control, I was just leaving as 3 gentlemen appeared, with a "we'll see you later" look on their faces. I left the control, still head-down into the wind, knowing that they would soon be setting off after me. After what seemed like hours of grinding along, the route finally left the main road, and about this time, the wind finally dropped. The lower gears of the Kinesis lent themselves to spinning uphill, and the kilometers gradually wound down.

The last 2 km were a blast, but at 9:45pm it was pitch black, and I'm not sure that 66kmh downhill in the dark (even with good lights) is necessarily safe or sensible.

Either ways, I arrived back in Alfreton at 9:45, for a ride time (elapsed) of 15:45, 13:11 of which was actually on the bike, for an average speed of 22.9kmh, way in excess of my expected speed, and 2:20 ahead of my anticipated finish.

As I was loading the bike into the car, the three guys arrived, having left the garage 5 minutes after me, and being 7 minutes behind at the finish. Result.

Perhaps I'm not going so badly after all, but I just looked at my times and speeds for the Etape du Dales (coming up again this weekend) and I can't believe how fast I went (albeit for a bronze) last year. Hard work coming up methinks.

7/12 RTTY and still counting.

Toot Onroomay

2009-05-05T21:53:00.002+01:00

as they say in France. Or put another way, I have a cold (actually I'm pretty sure it's fully-blown man-flu).

Either way, it put paid to all Bank Holiday Weekend activities, including our long-awaited Dean Bluebell Doddle Audax. Perhaps this was for the best, as Linda has a bad back, and would probably have come along and done it more damage. A shame, since I have been to the Forest of Dean only twice before, and it hosed it down with rain both times. Saturday was glorious, dammit!

So, no Audax yet this month, and I am now waiting to see whether I am recovered for "Everybody Rides to Skeggy" on Saturday, which (if completed) will be my first 300km ride.

I'm still undecided which bike to take to the Etape du Dales, whether to go with the Trek on the basis the last 10 miles is a pretty good time trial, or to go on the Kinesis to make sure I get as far as the last 10 miles.

On a much sadder note, the Gran Fondo Cymru has been cancelled owing to the tragic death of the organiser in a Level Crossing accident, so I have no ride on 24th. But there is a 400km Audax that day.................

North Cornwall Tor(ture)

2009-04-23T21:33:00.006+01:00

Kilotogo proclaim their North Cornwall Tor Sportive to be "the toughest many riders, even well seasoned one's, will ever enter. They ain't kidding!

With jobs to do round home, neither Brett or I could justify 2 nights away, so we travelled down on Saturday afternoon and pitched tent on the side of the footie pitch at the Dragon Centre where the ride was due to start.

Sunday dawned clear. It had no choice, there were no clouds, which rendered Saturday night very, very cold. Waking at 6 and getting up was an excellent opportunity to try to get warm.

Faffing (obligatory) was done, so we slightly missed the 8 a.m. start, setting off at about 8:10. Within 200 metres my legs were asking what the hell was going on, and Brett disappeared into the distance.

In Cornwall, it seems that the adage "what goes up must come down" is reversed, because what goes down always goes back up. So it was right at the start with a 'leg warmer' out of Bodmin up onto the moor that has no equal either where I live or work. Suitably warmed up, the next 20km over the moor was stunning. The clarity of the air was amazing.Eventually the first control arrived, followed by the net downhill of the second section to Bude. On this section I met Mike from Leeds, a rider I had ridden part of the Cheshire Cat with, prior to his elimination with a technical failure. He was back, and going well, now equipped with a compact chainset. Going well, until about 3 miles short of Bude, when a downhill section got the better of him, and dumped him into a hedge on a corner. Thankfully, he proclaimed the greatest damage was to his ego, and he was able to carry on.

This ride really starts at Bude, and after the climb out of the town, you get the first real sight of the cliffs to come. Also at this point, I was starting to experience a small voice in the back of my mind going "you forgot the sunscreen". Oh bugger!

At the end of Widemouth Bay comes the first 'real' stinker at Wanson, up to Penhalt Cliff. I still remember the smell of burning clutch from when we took a fully loaded car up there. I got to stop at the bottom, under the reason of helping out another rider with a broken chain (I have now given away both of my quick links in the last two sportives) but got to the top still on the bike. And is the view worth it, or what?

There follows the hardest part of any ride I have ever done. Even after surviving the 1:3 descent of Millhook, you have to get up the 1:3 the other side, followed by climbs of varying severity into/out of Crackington Haven, Boscastle, Tintagel, Trebarwith, Port Gaverne and Port Isaac.

As a cyclist, you learn to pay attention to place names. Anywhere called "Nether", "Lower", etc is to be feared. This is because you will inevitably follow a signpost to similarly named places either "Upper", "Higher", "Superior" etc. Imagine my delight (not) to spot a place name on a signpost called "High Cliff". At least the view was good back over the route we had come.
After the departure from the coast, one might expect the lunacy to end, but "No", then you get to Bishops Wood, a wall proclaimed by the sign at the bottom to be 28%. By the time I got there, I was so tired, it took me nearly 10 minutes to walk up it, and its only 300 metres long!

How I managed to not take the short route back to Bodmin along the main road, I know not. It will be interesting to see from the split times how many people baled out on the last section, but I did it all and limped over the line in 10 hours 11 minutes at about 6:20 in the evening.

As we left Bodmin an hour later, stragglers were still finishing. The last I saw of Mike was halfway up Millhook, sat at the side of the road looking for Oxygen. He finished after 8p.m. in a time of 12:22. Chapeau both to him for having the willpower to finish, and to the organisers for refusing to shut up shop until he made it.

Will I do it again? Probably, but probably not next year. Biggest mistake, not applying suncream (I still glow in the dark). Second biggest mistake, not taking the Kinesis. I know its heavier, but I really needed lower gears. I'm still not going as well as last year.

"Find me some Hills"

2009-04-23T21:20:00.002+01:00

said Mrs H over the Easter weekend.

Originally, we had planned a trudge up Snowdon, but although great weather was promised, the kids looked at us like we had 2 heads (each) when we suggested they come along.

Not wanting to release our house into their clutches for any longer than necessary, we decamped to Stratford on Avon with the bikes instead.

With the intention of a gently paced ride with a few climbs we set off out over the "Col de Loxley", a regular for lunchtime training and on to Alderminster. A quick blast along the A3400 led us to the Ilmington turn, and an appointment with Campden Pitch, the hill which killed my rear wheel 2 years ago.

On that occasion, I halted half way up, chest heaving, and broke a spoke on restarting. Mrs H is made of sterner stuff (and has the advantage of being made from far less of it) and was not for stopping. At the steep point I was momentarily in danger of being dropped, but the 26-30 ratio of the Kinesis got me out of it. Mrs H made it to the top having "nearly got off" once again.

The inevitable quick descent led to Dover's Hill and another 16% challenge, again ably met and dispatched, followed by the long drag up to Broadway Tower and a saddlebag full of butties. Through the Lavender Farm and down Snowshill into the Cotswold tweeness of Broadway was not Mrs H's cup of tea. She does not yet enjoy the combination of speed + traffic + potholes + potential messy injury.

Despite the busy traffic, I could not resist directing her back up Fish Hill on the main road. Thankfully, there is a crawler lane so we were little threatened by passing traffic. Again the occasion was risen to, and the hill conquered stopless. The route back to Stratford was largely then downhill, and we rolled back in a shade over 4 hours for our 47 miles.

Next on the joint agenda is the Dean Bluebell Doddle with 1200m of climbing in 53km. I think we will both make it round.

Dr Foster....

2009-04-23T21:01:00.004+01:00

..went to Gloucester, according to the nursery rhyme. And so, on the 4th April, did I. Except we went the long way round.

I was dead keen to start the day, since my new bike arrived the day before and I was itching to try it out. Not content with a gentle 20km shakedown, I took it out on Dr Fosters Spring Clean, an Audax starting near Tewkesbury, and measuring 200+ kilometers.

That bike is amazingly comfortable, and felt such right from the start. Initially, there were the inevitable teething problems, and a slightly more squirrely feeling downhill on greasy roads, but I soon got used to the feel of it.

By the time we arrived at the first control, the granny ring had packed up and refused to engage on the front mech, but I was lucky enough to arrive at the same time as a guy who had worked in a bike shop for over 15 years, and 30 seconds of adjustment soon rectified that problem.

After the first control came the first and only big climb of the day, which I initially missed, carrying straight on instead of turning left. This was to set a trend, as I didn't realise the limitations of my GPS unit until after the ride. Apparently, if you upload a file that has too many route points, it cuts the number down automatically by knocking the corners off the route. Not recommended for route finding. Admittedly, this did cause some merriment among other riders when I arrived at control 2 from the opposite direction to everyone else.

The course led off through Monmouth and Pontypool down to Newport, with long sections on NCN routes off-road and on towpaths etc. The new bike coped magnificently with the rough stuff, and was infinitely more comfortable than Mr Trek would have been.

A rush across the Caldicott Levels (interrupted by a pub lunch) led to the old Severn Bridge, and a plummet from the top back into England onto the Severn Plain. A quick stop at the Shed near Slimbridge (toasted teacake, mmmmmm!) and the towpath took us into Gloucester, from where it was a quick jaunt (with a little knee-killer thrown in) back to the start.

All in all it took nearly 12 hours for the 212km, but given that much of this was off-road, it wasn't a bad time.

By the time Thursday came round, and the Kinesis went into the Bike Shop for a check over, it had done another ride out with Mrs H, and an 80 mile commute to work. I wonder how many new bikes do 340km in their first 5 days of ownership?

1/2 RTTY.....

Avast Behind!

2009-03-31T19:07:00.004+01:00

There is, it seems, a photographer out there with a sense of humour. Not being content with recording my plummet at warp 9 (40mph) towards Lamaload, he snapped the following "while my back was turned". Not exactly my best side.......

As for the rest of the Cheshire Cat ride, I shall just have to admit enjoying it on a masochistic sort of way.

An early start was achieved, getting off in the mist at 9:00 and a gentle pace ensued for all of 500 metres until Mike and Mark dropped the hammer, and Brett went after them. I clung onto the back of the splintered group at various lengths off the back until just before the first M6 crossing at which point (I thought) some semblance of sanity returned, with a slackened pace.

Imagine my delight at reaching the first feed in an average speed of 30kmh! Never before have I maintained such speed over such distance. If I have any sense at all (not likely) I never will again. Any groups available after the first feed were always travelling that tiny bit too fast, so most of the section was either solo or in ones and twos, not that that detracted from pushing on with brain going "good time!!!!!". Next time I will leave brain at home.

Arriving at feed 2, a scant 2 or 3 miles from Mow Cop, tiredness was encroaching on legs, and I noted somewhat belatedly that I did not need to refill a bidon, as I had only drunk 1/2 litre in the first 85km. Yes, I know its obvious now that I need to work on my nutrition strategy, but on Sunday I just got it all wrong. I still find it difficult to (reach for) drink without breaking rhythm, although some eating was done thanks to a top bar bag. On Sunday, the big problem was fluid.

Shortly before Mow Cop, there is a short climb before the canal, and the legs started to complain. Thankfully they got a small rest as the guy next to me snapped his chain, and I stopped to administer one of my spare quick-links. It got him home, and very pleased he was too.

Mow Cop was hellish. The bottom felt a lot steeper than it should, and the whole climb was a slow grind of pedals. I still harboured faint hopes of getting up at the bottom of the steep bit, but at about 100feet from the top cramp kicked in. Cramp in the legs I can deal with, you can always stand up and move around. Cramp in the ribcage is less fun. I have yet to find a different way to breathe. I got off as the fuzzy black bits started to move into the vision, and before I fell off. Defeated.

Then the hills really started. A succession of ups and downs through to Macclesfield Forest, and an absolute sod of a climb. Most hills by this point were a lovely walk, but at least the day itself was perfect, good visibility and wall-to-wall sunshine. I survived the chute downhill to Lamaload, although I stopped halfway worried about the state of the wheel rims after so much braking (hot but not red hot) and positively enjoyed Blaze Hill (especially being able to stop at the T junction).

By this point the High5 Extreme from Feed 3 was kicking in, and I was starting to feel better, speed actually increased a little. Until Swiss Hill. I couldn't get all the way up, but I did get past the photographers. Even pedalling and hauling on the wall with a free arm could not get me up it. Defeated again. In total I walked on 5 (five!) of the climbs. I wouldn't call the last few kilometers a "blast back to Knutsford" but I did go as fast as I could manage, and crossed the line in a tad over 8:24.

Disappointing compared to last year, and totally self-inflicted. Feeding/drinking strategy completely wrong, both on and off the bike. Weight on Monday 110.8kg (about 10kg more than last year) and the North Cornwall Tor is only 3 weeks away. The NCT has:
1) More climbing (1000m more)
2) Steeper climbs (at least 2 at 1-in-3)
3) Probably much worse, and windy weather.

I am in BIG trouble, as I doubt on Sundays performance I will make the time limit. I am now on an eating and exercise regime that will make Quakers look like party animals in an effort to shed at least 5kg before the NCT.

And on Saturday, I have another 200km Audax. Sane? I severely doubt it.

Taking Flight

2009-03-09T20:42:00.004Z

Saturday was the 205km Cheltenham Flyer Audax, starting and finishing in Bishops Cleeve near Cheltenham, 'neath the looming brute that is Cleeve Hill.

Thankfully, the route avoided the hill itself, though it did finish at the bottom of Bushcombe Lane, in sight of what is, and probably will remain, a definite 'walker'. I had to walk in last years Tour of the Cotswolds, and having seen it again on Saturday, I don't think that will be changing anytime soon.

The ride itself started in unexpectedly excellent weather, unlike the Stratford RC Reliability Ride the day after (and am I ever glad I chose NOT to do that!), and with a strengthening wind behind us later in the day, I was hoping for a reasonable time. A reasonable time, compared to the Newport Audax 2 weeks ago would have been about 10 hours 15, given the extra few km and the additional climbing. A fairly rapid start to the first control at 25km did nothing to dispel this hope, though reality struck some 50 yards later. Turning onto the B4077 we climbed the Cotswold escarpment for a height gain of 148m over the next 3.5km. Only an average of 4.2%, but over 8% for stretches and enough to both warm me up and slow me down.

The tourist traps of Bourton on the Water and Bibury followed, with the sunshine serving to show why they are so popular. Cirencester was reached in a decent time, and bacon sandwich administered to ward off the dreaded energy bonk. Lunch was taken at 99km, and the section that followed was, for me, the most difficult, into the wind with long sections of sapping climb. The descent, when it came, was winding and so brakes were the order of the day, thus negating much of the downhill benefit.

Thankfully, the services of the Badminton WI had been secured for the third full control, and I can confirm that nothing revives weary cyclist better than WI cake. Setting off for the final section, the wind was behind, but time was already later than intended. Somewhere on this section, I noted than my light had slipped round the bars, so tried to adjust it succeeding only in breaking it off the mount. 45km to go and no light, except whatever daylight was left.

Making the jump to warp speed, I managed to tag onto the back of a couple of faster riders until 15km from the end when, inevitably, 'my legs fell off'. Stopping for a gel, I let the others disappear, and restarted after a couple of minutes break. This coincided with the final climb of the day, so it took a while to get going again, but the legs came back at the top of the Cirencester Road. A good launch at the top of the hill and I managed to pass my two erstwhile pacemakers on the way down. Sometimes being so tired you can't be bothered to hit the brakes can be an advantage.

The final few km passed quickly though not effortlessly, and I managed to sneak into the finish at 5:59 for my second successive sub-10 hour 200.

Obligatory stats:
Distance: 205.8km/127.9 miles
Total climb: 1700m (ish)
Total Time: 9:59 Moving time: 8:54
Average speed: 23.1kmh/14.35mph
Top speed: 74.7kmh/46.4mph

The pressure is now off for this month, and I can train relaxed for the Cheshire Cat on the first day of Summertime.

5/12 RTTY and counting.....................

Trek Abuse

2009-02-26T22:50:00.002Z

For most of the winter I have had the Carrera on the Turbo Trainer, which is often (more often) used by my wife, and so removing it, audaxing on it, cleaning it and remounting it on the turbo has not been a viable option.

I have therefore used Mr Trek throughout the winter, with my old Fulcrum wheels suffering the worst of the winter crud. It is becoming apparent that the best way to wear out bits on a nice carbon fibre bike is to ride it through the winter, so I need an alternative.

LEL is a very long way, and is a self supported ride. Whilst I could attach a pannier to the frame and seat post for just a few days, this would be tempting fate and, knowing my luck, would result in permanent damage. So, I need an alternative (are you noting a pattern yet?).

Regrettably, my employer is loath to extract their manual digit and adopt the cycle scheme, so any alternative will need to be self-funded, up front.

I had, until recently, harboured hopes of getting a Dawes Super Galaxy Tourer, but the 35% increase in price/exchange rates for the 2009 model over the 2008 put paid to that.

Having spoken at length to local bike shop, I will soon take delivery of a Kinesis Racelight T frame with carbon fork, finished off with various Shimano bits (in stock therefore cheaper), rack and full mudguards. With the Fulcrum Racing 7's I already own, this will be my LEL bike.

Good excuse, then, to put the good wheels on the Trek, clean it up and remove all the Winter Audax bits, bag, brackets, lights etc.

Its a flying machine!! And I love it to bits. Again.

Great Expectations

2009-02-26T22:24:00.004Z

A good name for a novel, but not something I have since I rarely have faith in my own ability.

Thus it was on Sunday for the Newport Audax. 201km of purgatory was expected, having done a massive 16 miles in the month since the Mere 200. Obviously, I claim the arrival of snow, ice etc as the reason for this, not sloth and laziness on my part.

Arriving in Wilmslow to pick Mike up, I was greeted by the unexpected sight of his brand new Hinde custom built "it fits Mike" bike. Some feeble excuse about broken cables on his old one followed. This new machine was soon christened in my mind the "BE-Hinde" since this was where I spent most of the day.

Untypically, we set off with the main group as soon as released by the organiser, and equally untypically I stayed with said group for the first 25km, achieved in just under an hour. Way too fast for me as an all day pace. Shortly before Holmes Chapel, I exploded uphill, the Hinde receded into the distance, and I started my solitary day out. Now, I don't mind this too much, I will probably cycle over 1000km of LEL on my own, so I'd better get used to it.

Good pace was maintained on the way to Newport, save for the drop down to the level crossing near Oakhanger. This lane is, quite simply, a mix of mud, gravel, water and diesel barely covering the shortlist for the upcoming programme on Cheshire's top 20 potholes. For those in the area, its at OS grid ref 762540. Avoid it.

Newport at 93km was reached in 3:49 and after a brief faff, I headed for Audlem at 128km and a stop at the Priest House Cafe for lunch. You'd have thought that by now, I'd have learned that 128km is too far for me without some semblance of proper food. Not so. Bars and gels only cut it for so far, and on Sunday, that was 105km. The 33km from Newport to Audlem took 2 hours, and I collapsed through the door of the cafe, much to the amusement of a group from Manchester Velo.

Life saving coffee (3 sugars x 5 cups), toast & Marmalade, and an all day breakfast were administered nurse-like by the staff. The cyclist was revived. 55 minutes later, I was back on my way as if nothing had happened. For the remainder of the ride, I managed to ignore the worst of the wind (meteorological not digestional) and keep going relatively well.

It seems that solitary riding can have its advantages. Normally, I try to push on uphill, dropping through the gears to maintain cadence, and keep up with the others I start with as they slow down to wait for me. With Mike long gone (and finishing at 16:02 for a time of 8:02 including stops he was LONG gone) I reverted to type up most hills, staying in a high gear and grinding up, albeit then being 'within myself' at the top and able to push on. By Middlewich the GPS was predicting a ridiculous finish time, so I made a quick stop and pushed on trying to achieve it.

The Drill Hall at Cheadle saw me arrive at 17:55. 9:55 overall time, including stops. My first ever sub-10 hour 200km Audax and a personal best by over 50 minutes. Chuffed.

Stats:
Distance 201km/125 miles
Total Time 9:55, ride time 8:50
Average speed 22.7kmh/14.1mph
Top speed 52.7kmh/32.8mph
HRM not used
Calories unknown, but probably about 8,000

Ninja wheels

2009-01-26T20:46:00.003Z

The Mere 200 Audax yesterday was more than a test for both myself, and the new Mavic Ksyrium Elite rear wheel I have acquired.

I have to say, I am very impressed. It feels as if it 'rolls well' and what's more the freewheel mechanism is almost silent, so you can sneak up ninja-like behind your mates and slipstream them most wickedly. Not that I would personally do such a thing, as I can't usually catch people to slipstream them.

The weather yesterday was particularly kind. Rain on waking (5:15) disappeared by the 8 a.m. start, and the breezy conditions dried up some of the mess on the road. With a share of A roads this ride was ideal for a speed test, and the morning went well, delivering us to a much later food stop than normal at 122km. This was well worth waiting for. Truckstops are GREAT for Audax controls.

The lady owner looked us up and down, and declared that she knew we required beans on toast. Not so. A Full English Breakfast each later, and we were on our way again, albeit a little slower. Thankfully common sense triumphed over bravado, and we only went for the Full English and not the Raven Gut Buster. Finishing may have been severely compromised.

The fine weather led us to 35km from home before lights were required and speeds inevitably dropped. Nonetheless we rolled into Cheadle at 18:50 for my fastest ever 200km Audax.

Obligatory Stats:
208km/129 miles
1638 Memory Map Metres of climbing
Average moving speed 21.9kmh/13.6mph
Riding time 9:29
Elapsed time 10:50
Top speed 47.6kmh/29.6mph
Total calories burned 8,309

And finally, the weight today 107.3kg, a loss of 0.3kg in the last 2 weeks.

I feel the need........

2009-01-24T20:34:00.002Z

but not for speed, though that may perchance come as standard with a pair of new wheels.

Being a fat bloke, when I obtained the Trek last February, I opted to upgrade the wheelset from the standard Bontrager wheels to a pair of Mavic Ksyrium Equipes. This was on the basis that they were a pretty bomb-proof pair of wheels, and I shouldn't have the spoke snapping problems I had 2 years ago.

This was indeed true, I never snapped a spoke on them. However, they may have been bomb-proof, they weren't bum-proof. After 12 months of hard braking trying (mostly successfully) to arrest the huge momentum of descending lard it appears that it hasn't been just the brake blocks wearing out, but also the wheel rims. The wear indicator is long-gone, and the braking surface is now largely concave, especially on the front wheel. Time to replace them before the rim folds over mid-ride, jams the brake, and brings me to an unexpected messy halt.

I initially toyed with the idea of hand built wheels based on Mavic Open-Pro CD rims (harder braking surface, lasts longer) but in the end was swayed by a just-about second-hand pair of wheels. These wheels had been on a display bike at the bike shop, the bike now being sold, but with the wheels surplus to requirements as the owner had a pair of ridiculously expensive Zipps. The bike shop wanted rid, so I am now the proud owner of a pair of Mavic Ksyrium Elites, a step up from my existing wheels, and a bargain as they were already shod with Michelin Tyres and tubes. A snip at £150 when the RRP of the wheels alone is more than twice that.

Chuffed. Playing with the rear wheel tomorrow, the front can wait 'til the Sportive Season. I still need my handbuilt dynamo-equipped front wheel for Winter Audaxes that finish in the dark.

Perhaps I'm not going quite so badly after all......

2009-01-21T21:21:00.002Z

After a week of letting it fester in its own filth, I finally got round to cleaning Mr Trek last Sunday.

In many ways, this was harder than an Audax ride because, on an Audax ride, you get to wear warm gloves. On a freezing cold Sunday, with a stiff breeze, hypothermia of the manual digits does not take long to achieve.

All labour saving devices known to man were deployed, including the jet-washer, and the Madone eventually reappeared from under the crud, although the state of the spoke nipples eventually required the services of a toothbrush to bring them clean.

Having reassembled the bike, I noticed something amiss. The front brake would apply, but not release. No amount of cajoling would encourage it. Fingers frozen, I did what anyone would do under the circumstances, and gave up.

Local Bike Shop were engaged, and a few seconds of work later, the siezed calipers were free of the grit causing the problem, and they worked properly again. It is worth noting, however, that with a bar bag on during the Audax, I would not have been able to hear the brake rubbing (especially with the wind as strong as it was). I wonder if that had anything to do with my seemingly slow time, and lack of any response from the bike even when I was pushing hard?

On a better note, I have just completed my first turbo session of the Winter, with results that are semi-comparative to last year. 40km at an average 170 watts last year took 1:16:00 and an average HR of 119. 41km yesterday at 176 watts took 1:17:24 at an HR of 129. 10 BPM on the Heart Rate shows I am not quite where I was last year, but the slightly increased wattage shows I have the unit calibrated slightly differently. Either way, I'm not as far off the pace as I thought I was.

And finally, yesterdays 25 miles took me through the 10,000 miles to date. (albeit in 2 and a half years).

Next ride is the Mere 200 on Sunday, my second 200km ride of January. Insane.

Of Sportive Success and Failure

2009-01-15T22:04:00.003Z

Already this year I have experienced both, and that's just in entering.

6th January was the long awaited day when entries for both the Fred Whitton Challenge and the Etape du Dales went live. FWC was by post from midnight, and EdD online from midday.

By breakfast time on 6th the Fred Whitton website had already had the paper entry for withdrawn owing to the number of downloads far exceeding capacity. Good thing I printed it off at midnight. Unfortunately, this was all to no avail as I heard this week I didn't get through the ballot. Apparently over 2,000 people applied for the 800 places. At £40 each this shows how much more popular these events are becoming.

Further evidence came in the form of the SportIdent website as the 12:00 time for Etape du Dales entries to go live approached. By 12:03 the website had already crashed under the weight of attempted hits. By 15:25 all 800 places had gone on that event too, but by that time I had one of them.

One out of two ain't bad, and it does free up the weekend of 9th May for my local 200km Audax. "It's an ill wind that blows everybody over" as John Lennon is credited with saying.

The Poor Student

2009-01-15T20:42:00.003Z

Attached to the wall of my garage is a very nice Trek Madone in a rather fetching mud crust. One day this week, I must get round to cleaning it.

As you can probably tell, last Sunday's Audax was a feast of meteorological excesses. An 8 a.m. start at any time of year some 80 miles from home is going to require a rude awakening. It's even ruder when you realise that its been raining and the roads are filthy. It's ruder still when you drive most of that 80 miles to find that, nearer the event, it was not rain but snow/sleet that was falling.

Thus the promised day of balmy 7 degree forecast temperatures commenced. Oxford dawned to a relatively clear sky, initially watery sunshine, and soggy roads covered in places with a half inch layer of crusty, gritty, icy snow. However, I am bloody-minded, and I had entered, and I have to do a 200 in January, so I started the event with nary a murmur of complaint.

This lasted well through the dreaming spires of the older part of Oxford, and the historic University buildings. It even lasted up Cumnor hill, despite me being among the slower climbers. It didn't last far beyond that, though, as the impact of the 20mph South-Westerly was fully in the face all the way to Malmesbury, and the first proper food stop of the day some 79km distant.

By the time we had arrived in Malmesbury, averaging a measly 20.5kmh, and consumed a leisurely meal, our elapsed average from the start was nearer 18kmh, and the next leg across the Cotswolds did not improve that average overly much. This event only packed in 2,000 Memory Map Metres of climbing, but it seemed much more than that, and the 70km leg to Chipping Campden took 3 hours 15 minutes (21.5kmh with the wind behind). At this point Brett baled for home since it was only 11 miles away, and after a short rest (20 minutes) I set off for the final 58km leg back to Oxford. By this time, it was dark, the wind was again much in evidence, and my bolt was pretty much shot following the initial morning struggle back into the wind.

A darkened lane before Batsford hid a chevroned hill in the gloom beyond my lights, which resulted in the first of two short walks. Moreton, Evenlode and a succession of small villages slowly passed in the murk, and other Audaxers who had spent longer in Chipping Campdens Cafes slowly ground past, lights winking into the far distance, but always seeming to be uphill, despite the overall downhill profile of the last session. A swift descent on an unlit road led to a 'small detour' down a rutted farm track as the road took an unmarked right turn, but rider and bike remained united over the rough stuff, although a second walk was required to the top of the climb as momentum had been lost.

At last, the roads improved, the downhill profile commenced, and a slightly swifter run-in to Oxford services was welcome. Final arrival time was 7:55 p.m. and an elapsed time of 11:55. The last leg of just 58km took an enormous 3 hours 25 (only 17kmh) although there were a couple of faffing stops en route. I'm told Winter rides are harder. I hope to hell that this is true, if not I'm in real trouble as I don't feel I'm going well at all.

The obligatory stats:
Distance covered 208km/129 miles
Average moving speed 18.6kmh/11.5mph
Max speed 60.1kmh/37.3 mph
Cadence average 66, max 102
HR Average 148, Max 170
Calories burned 8,738

Weight on Monday 107.6 (loss of 1.1kg this week)

Only a stoopid loony would do more than one 200km event in January, so I've entered the Mere 200 event on Sunday 25th. Nuff said.

1/4 RTTY and counting

Hopey New Year

2009-01-05T22:52:00.000Z

Traditionally the first Audax event of the New Year, and always the first opportunity for me to start an annual collection of AAA points (also referred to as 'climbing points' or 'scenery points').

I will admit that it was a test of will on Saturday to actually leave the house when the alarm went off at 5:20 to reveal -3 degrees Centigrade and freezing fog at home. Still, I placed my trust in Metcheck and headed off to Hope (Bradwell this year) for 108km of the Peak Districts more relentless (rather than ferocious) hills and (memory map says) 2,000m of climbing.

On arrival in Bradwell we were greeted with frost free grass, despite the 0 degrees reported on the thermometer. We got away early on the staggered start, and were soon whistling downhill towards Grindleford. Amazingly, I finally got the dress-code correct so I didn't freeze. Mind you, the extra weight of :
1 compression base layer
1 pair bib-shorts
1 pair bib-tights
2 arm warmers
3 pairs of socks
1 long sleeve jersey
1 Gilet
1 winter jacket
1 skull cap
1 pair bootees
2 pairs of gloves
certainly made itself known in the human/bicycle interface. Or maybe its the 111kg weight of me?............

Climbs to Calver Clough and Winster went seemingly slowly but much better than 2 years ago, and Ashbourne was reached in good time. Coffee and a toastie hastily consumed and we were away to the climb out of Mayfield.

Lord knows how far this one goes on for, but it seems forever. Gaggles of cyclists passed on the ascent, only for most to be recaught by descending lard on the descent. Shortly before the turn to Onecote at 70km we ground on past the Windy Ridge Cafe, ignoring the tempting aromas of toast, beans etc.

Big mistake! By 75km a full-on energy bonk was in progress and me & granny (the gear!!) were getting well acquainted. It was a full 15km before I felt even vaguely human again and speeds almost doubled on the draggy climbs. As always the final descent down Bradwell Dale was an absolute blast, and a perfect way to end any Audax.

The Obligatory Stats
108km/67 miles
2087 metres of climb (6847 feet)
Elapsed time 6:30
Riding time 5:43
Average speed 18.8kmh/11.68mph
Top speed 63.7kmh/39.6mph

A far better ride than the first time I rode this course, despite the handicap of my weight, which once again has to be sorted. The diet started today at 108.7kg

22 minutes inside LEL pace seems good, but only over 108km leaves a lot of work to do, but its only January and I am currently hauling a wide load.

Poor Student 200km next weekend. Lets hope the luck we are currently having with the weather holds.

So that was 2008..

2008-12-31T12:54:00.001Z

and it's obligatory at this point in the year to look at the things you did well, the things you did not so well, and the lessons you have learned.

Starting with the lowlights, I'm evidently not good at losing weight (I'm heavier now than I was at this point last year), and I'm not good at falling off bikes gracefully. In 2009 I intend to become better at the former, and give up doing the latter entirely (if only).

So what about the achievements? Well, at this point last year, I was struggling with an immense amount of self-doubt, mirroring the reactions of those around me when they learned what I was up to. I now know that there was no need for such doubt, and that you never know until you try.

In the year:
4,465 miles on the bike
One 10 mile Time Trial (in under 30 minutes)
One club reliability ride (in February no less)
10 Audaxes
10 UK Sportives
1 Etape du Tour (without getting off and walking)
No broom wagons!

And the lessons? Just one really. If there is something you would like to do, do it. Do it now.

It's like the proverb. "Never put of until tomorrow what you can do today". After all, if you do it today and like it, you can do it again tomorrow.

Happy New Year all.

Clive

I'm dreaming of a Whitegate Christmas

2008-12-24T21:07:00.000Z

as the title of the Audax goes.

On the whole, this was a good day. Mark, Mike and myself all arrived plenty early (even post-faffing) and the weather was definitely in the "could have been a lot worse" category.

As we left Bredbury, the first treat of the day was a nice long descent down to the river. Regrettably, this was also the return route later in the day, when such changes in altitude would be much less welcome. A headwind was gently opposing us for the first 55km to the cafe stop, whereupon we were met by the least happy staff I had come across this year. We were their only customers, but I got the impression they would much rather have been closed.

Cups of coffee rapidly downed, a strange thing happened. My legs, normally dormant for at least 10km after a cake stop, began to function immediately. Coinciding with a slight downhill, a tailwind, and french quality tarmac we were suddenly flying along. A slight incline didn't slow my progress until Mark's voice came over my shoulder "you might want to slow down a bit, Mike's at 174 bpm and is barely holding on". I was subsequently accused of ripping Mikey's legs off and throwing them into a field. Unheard of. Mike had his revenge later, as he was regularly waiting for me by the end.

The return trip to Bredbury was relatively uneventful, ridden in the daylight, and a rare December pleasure. Despite the guys having to wait for me, we were the first three back, and averaged almost exactly 25kmh (15.6mph) way outside my normal range.

I was still shattered on Monday, but despite feeling that "I'm still not going well" this was my fastest Audax Ride ever. I guess I'll settle for that.

Next up, the Hopey New Year on 3rd January (100+ km of Peak District loveliness) and then the Poor Student on 11th January (Januarys RTTY qualifier). And perhaps some turboing over Christmas.

I'm starting to enjoy cycling again......

Tinselly Lanes

2008-12-11T22:28:00.000Z

Tinsel & Lanes is my closest Audax, it starts from the pub just 500m from our house. It would be rude not to do it, although much debate was had whether to do the Audax or to go to the Lakes for the Cumbrian Xmas Cracker the following day.

Despite Brett's protestations about his need to turn out for the football team on the Saturday, Mike & I turned up on a very fresh morning and rolled out at 8 a.m. with 211km ahead of us. The first few kilometers went swiftly on rolling roads, but when Tinsel Lane itself was reached the temperature plummeted and frost appeared on the roadside. Speeds were reduced, but despite that we saw two fallers on the roads around Bosworth Battlefield. First control was reached in just a fraction over 2 hours at an average of 25kmh, unheard-of for me.

The next section, down to Upper-Stowe south-east of Daventry, is the lumpiest section and soon had me struggling, especially up the 1:4 hill to Gubley, where I discovered a new maximum heart rate of 184. My theoretical max is 174 and I had never exceeded this, so this was a surprise (as was the 207 the HRM registered at another point where I was not paying attention, so I suspect it to be a spurious reading). Further hills followed across Naseby Battlefield and beyond, but lunch at 101km was reached at 1pm, an average of 20kmh including stops.

I did this ride last year, and know how slow the roads seem to be (can't be me, surely) and the next sections dragged on a lot, but Wellesbourne near Stratford-on-Avon was reached in the light at 3:35, and the light was not needed for another half-hour of the final leg. Once on, it provided sufficient illumination for 2 riders side-by-side at 20mph on the downhills, so I profess myself very pleased with it.

Tiredness and weight told in the end, with Bentley Bank at the end of the ride being a struggle, but final arrival at 7:15 was a full 80 minutes ahead of last year so again, I'm happy although I was so tired I could not finish my attempt at the pub carvery. Those who know me will confirm how unlikely that is.

Stats:
Weight 108kg (work required)
Time 11:15 elapsed/ 9:49 moving
Speed 13.4mph average/ 38.4 mph max
Heart Rate 159 average (for 10 hours!) 207? max
Total Miles 131.4
Cadence average 68/ max 108 (getting better)
Total pedal revolutions 40,000 (anorak!)
Calories burned 8,976

By the time we finished, frost was sparkling on the road, and a freezing night was taking shape with -5 the overnight low. The following morning was hard-frozen and utterly unrideable. How lucky were we with the weather?

And the Cumbrian Xmas Cracker? Cancelled, quite sensibly, due to impossible road conditions. Good decision.

Next ride will hopefully be the "I'm Dreaming of a WhiteGate Xmas" Audax on 21st December, just ahead of festivities to burn 121km-worth of calories prior to their inevitable festive replacement.

1/6 Ratty and counting, (and the bathroom is just about finished.)

Blackpool, be jealous

2008-12-11T22:12:00.000Z

the Handy illuminations have come to town!

Following a lot of reading about LEL, I had realised that a more permanent lighting solution is needed, and bought a Schmidt Dynohub to provide power.

This was built up, at very reasonable rates, using a Mavic Open-Pro rim by Geoffrey Butler Cycles and delivered waiting for my new light. Unfortunately, production delays (yes really!) in Germany meant the light did not arrive in time for the Eureka! audax, but instead on the following Tuesday.

Having put the Dynohub wheel onto Mr Trek, I was surprised how little drag there was from it when not under load, spinning quite well for over 30 seconds. Under load, there is a lot more drag, but not more than a few watts total, so the speed decrease should be minimal.

So, what have I bought for illumination? Its called a Supernova E3, and throws out an awful lot of light for its very small size, as you can see. OK, it has to be very dark for the effect seen below, but I have already exceeded 30mph in an unlit lane and had full visibility.
'Just to test it' I also did the commute to work, 40 miles each way, the following Tuesday for 5.5 hours of exercise. The ride home was my slowest ever, but it was the first time I had ridden back completely in the dark, and there was a headwind, so I'm not too unhappy.

Nice new toy, you have to be careful how its mounted, because you can dazzle car drivers if its not properly adjusted.........but it does get headlights dipped a LOT earlier.

The rain in spain....

2008-12-11T21:54:00.001Z

falls, as they say, mainly on the plain. In Cheshire and North Wales, it mainly falls on cyclists.

3/4 of the first time etappers had organised themselves to do the Eureka! Audax on November 9th, the morning after the bonfire party the night before. Only Mark had an attack of sanity and found something else to do.

Regular clicks on Metcheck in the preceding week all foretold doom (and gloom) with varying amounts of wet and nasty being forecast for the Sunday.

Sunday dawned with the Big Red Fun Bus already heading up the M6 towards Cheadle and a date with 210km of the finest backroads to be found in the 'sunny' North West. Having picked Mike up, we arrived in plenty of time for a good pre-ride faff, but despite that Brett was still in the gents putting his lipstick on when the ride started. 5 minutes later, we set off.........alone.

The first thing to be noticed was that Metcheck were right again. The wet and nasty had not yet arrived, but the headwind was on lookout duty for it. A brisk wind hit us square in the face for most of the first section to the Eureka! cyclists cafe, and an appointment with a sausage, bacon & egg bin-lid bun. Having been thoroughly pebbledashed with hail in the headwind on the way we were more than ready for it, especially after Mike's first encounter with the puncture fairy. This delayed progress sufficiently to demand a trip past Ellesmere Port and the potential of a Slothly cup of Tea. Next year perhaps.

During consumption, skies glowered and greyed, and by the time Chester was circumnavigated unpleasantness was falling from the sky. By the time we reached the way round Wrexham roads were beginning to disappear under water and by Bangor-on-Dee we had already gone through 3 flooded sections. Following this the rain got no worse, but it didn't let up either.

With the wind behind, at least the average speed was not disgraceful (albeit not impressive either) but progress to Beeston Lock Cafe was delayed by Mike's second encounter with the puncture fairy. If his wife ever finds out about those two.........

Lights were needed after the stop, and the combination of dark, rain and reflections proved beyond doubt that a Cateye Singleshot Plus, whilst a fine light, is no good for speedier riding in those conditions. Had Brett gone into the ditch down the winding hills, we would both have followed.

By Astbury the rain was pounding and the weather chilling down. I turned off the light to save the battery, and then it wouldn't turn back on again. 30km to go, and only a head torch for illumination!

Some 75 minutes later, glued to the rear wheel of Mikes bike, I arrived at the finish, shattered and relieved.

Weight 108kg (a stone heavier than last year)
1/12 Ratty

40 days and 40 nights

2008-12-11T21:43:00.000Z

since my last update, but not all of it spent on my bike in the wilderness.

I pretty much expected an E-Port Sloth nag regarding lack of exercise by now, but can confirm that there have been 2 audaxes and a commute since my last post, so I am still managing to get on the bike.

Life is getting in the way, however, with late projects at work causing long hours, and everyone's Darling in Westminster changing the VAT rate just to pi$$ everyone off. There's an object example/lesson in how NOT to do an impact analysis. Couple that with much d-i-y ripping out a fair portion of the bathroom, and my posting capability has been much diminished.

I have, though, now got a secondary target for 2009. Audax UK run an annual award known as a RTTY ("Ratty"), awarded to those lunatics who complete a 200km (or greater) event every calendar month for a year. Here goes............

The Colours of Clumber

2008-10-29T21:32:00.000Z

For the first time on 18th October, I managed to convince my wife that she could do a 100km Audax. Of course, I neglected to tell her that it was over distance by 10km, and a further 3km was added by avoiding road closures. Her eventual discovery of this, some 10km from the end was somewhat unwelcome.

Neither of us had the best of preparation, both recovering from head colds and probably about 30 miles between us in the 3 weeks before the event. Nevertheless, with the weather forecast suggesting no rain, we had little excuse but to go and start.

The start of the ride, through Clumber Park is largely downhill, and the English Autumn was doing its best to make the ride as pleasant as possible. The promised colours were much in evidence, and a gentle tailwind made life even more pleasant.

With little experience of longer cycle rides, Linda is not really used to the requirement to refuel en-route, and began to suffer about 5km short of the cafe stop. Bonk rations were brought into play, and disaster averted. The cafe was reached without major mishap.

Of course, what goes down must come up, and the return route to Clowne seemed uphill forever, and the tailwind was now, of course, a headwind. By 70 km I think we were both wanting proceedings to be over (though of course I didn't admit that at the time). A normally quiet B road was turned into a facsimile of Monza on a race weekend by a diversion round an accident, and the last 30km was, frankly, unpleasant.

In the end, we finished with 10 minutes of the time allocation to spare, and with Linda suffering knee problems (which thankfully subsided rapidly). She had 'nearly got off her bike' on a number of occasions towards the end (though strangely she has never actually got off it once yet.....) but put in a fantastic effort to cover 114km on this ride. As a first ride, she should be proud of her achievement, it was not as easy as the route at first suggested.

Having recovered, I've at last started putting in a few miles (not many by past standards) and will be getting serious very soon.

Next stop Cheadle on 9th November for 211km of rural Cheshire. Nice.

Come in number 268

2008-10-08T20:12:00.000+01:00

Your time is up!

Thats official now, then, my number is issued and I'm signed up. No going back now.

The bad news is that the Etape rumours I had thought inevitable have now begun to surface. Only the Ventoux or Alpe d'Huez could possibly have tempted me to do another Etape, and it looks like I will miss out on theVentoux next Summer. Rumour has it that next years Etape will be from Montelimar to Mont Ventoux. I'll continue to watch those rumours, but I won't be going. There aren't enough brownie points on God's Green Earth for me to swing that one!

I guess that I'll have to pencil in the Beaumes de Venise - Mont Ventoux Sportive for another year.

Damp!

2008-10-06T23:01:00.000+01:00

Well, the vagaries of the English weather caught up with me again on Sunday as the first hour of Rourkies Cat & Fiddle Challenge did its best to resemble the first leg of a triathlon. Swimming may well have been the order of the day had the rain continued for any longer.

By Macclesfield, my elapsed time was the same as last year, which was a little concerning. I was on the same bike as last year (the Halfords Carrera, now mongrelised with odd bits from other bikes) but last year I'd had to spend 5 minutes on the road repairing a chain defect by this point.

What followed was worse. Despite feeling good and strong up the climb, my ascent of the Cat & Fiddle took 51 minutes, a full 8 minutes longer than ever before. I am beginning to wonder what has happened to me since the Tour of the Black Mountains. On the up side, the total elapsed time by the top was 12 minutes faster than last year, having not visited the Tea Rooms on this occasion.

Axe Edge wasn't too bad with a following wind, but I didn't have the bottle to stay off the brakes on the descent from Morridge Top, still managing to achieve 48 mph despite laying rubber on rims most of the way down.

The final four climbs in the last 10 miles were as bad as I remember, and I finally crossed the line with 4:02 elapsed, 13 minutes faster than last year.

In retrospect, I should be pleased. Last year's event was run in calm, benign conditions and glorious sunshine. My two companions on that occasion encouraged a fast start and waited to ensure I had a tow at the right time. Yesterday, I was on my own for much of the ride, and had a headwind all the way up the Cat.

One thing is for certain, only a lot more training is going to get me anywhere near next years target of completing LEL in under 100 hours.

Rourkie's Cat & Fiddle Challenge

2008-10-03T20:37:00.000+01:00

Lord help me this coming Sunday, for I am fat & lazy and certainly going to suffer up the Cat.

Target for this Sunday is firstly to break last years elapsed 4:15 which should really be achievable solely by cutting out some of the stops. I'll settle for 3:45, but we'll see how it goes on the day.

Par time for fat blokes on the C&F climb itself is about 43 minutes, I've been up there 3 times, and its been about 43 minutes, with the exception of the Polka Dot last year which was when I was approaching better fitness and had a following wind. I don't fancy arriving at the top dragging both lungs behind me on Sunday, so I think I may settle for 42 minutes & change.

Looking forward to it, and to booking in a few more Audax rides in the coming weeks to try and re-kindle some of the enthusiasm lost after the Etape.

I've Entered!

2008-09-05T23:59:00.000+01:00

I suppose it's official now, my entry form is in. For 2009 I shall be cycling from London to Edinburgh, and back in the longest ride on the UK Audax calendar.

The time limit for this lunacy is 116 hours and 20 minutes (don't ask me where the 20 minutes came from). Let the training commence.

2008-08-22T22:43:00.000+01:00

This blog is not yet active, but will contain details of my exercise target for 2009. Rest assured, it will be a challenge, and will involve going more than the 'extra mile'