It was easy enough to roll out of bed as the ‘nerves’ got me up. I shuffled round to the kitchen/dining area and made myself some instant coffee and instant porridge. Final packing done, including discarding some of the extra ‘off bike clothes’ I thought I might take, and then lugging the bike and my rucksack downstairs and out into the courtyard. It was wet. I put my bag on the van hoping to see it again in Derry and set off to find the two working men.
Riders accumulated and milled around, front and rear lights gleaming. The Turn cycling gang managed to gather for a last picture of us all together in Ireland. Paul, Annie, Si and myself.
Then everyone gathered in front of the stage for group photos and a rousing ribald song based on Sweet Molly Malone with the chorus “Fuck it, I’ll do it, I’ll die in a tent”. Adrian had managed to inveigle a participant into singing the verses and roused everyone of us to sing along to the chorus.
And then it was time for the off.
The early start meant we missed the traffic in Cork. The first hill kicked in pretty quickly and was a taster of many to come. They say that comparison is the thief of joy but that depends on the comparison. of course I made note of all the riders who seemed to be carrying about half of what was on my bike but I also noted other riders who carried even more than I had! The first hill began to string the riders out and soon there was plenty of space between us and the other three Turn cyclists disappeared into the distance.
I was looking forward to going through Kinsale and evoking memories of our honeymoon some 36 years previously. To be honest it looked vaguely familiar but I was soon through and out the other side.
It was a misty morning and the temperature made wearing a jacket worthwhile. I was heading out to Clonakilty and a rendezvous nearby with Mike, my old school friend, who I had seen only a few weeks earlier in Plymouth walking with more of my school friends. He arrived armed with bananas which were to be a welcome change from the sweet carbs I had stuffed into my food pouches on the front of the bike.
The morning was shrouded in mist but the roads were quiet and the kilometres ticked by riding along the coast.
Checkpoint 1 was at Mizen Head at 145km. Adrian had picked this as an early CP so if anyone had tracker issues they could be sorted out which seemed eminently sensible.
Apparently there is a really good view from Mizen Head.
What there was, was some excellent seafood chowder and soda bread and a big pot of tea.
The next headland was Sheeps Head Drive and consisted on an in and out alongside Ballyroon mountain. It was steep climb up to yet another mist shrouded viewpoint.
The dead end U-turn was to feature more than once on the route and invariably involved a stiff climb. By now I had done 200km and was plotting where to stop for the night. Bantry looked about right and I used Booking.com to secure a room at the Westlodge Hotel. On arrival I had to store my bike in the ballroom and there were already a couple of other bikes there. The joy of Tailfin kit is it is so easy to detach from the bike and headed up to my room with just what was needed.
After a quick shower I headed for the bar and a plate of stir fried chicken noodles and a sticky toffee pudding. There was an American who had diverted to Bantry from Dunmanus cutting off the loop out to Sheeps Head Drive which he was planning to do the next day. He made good company while we ate and I was in awe of his account of doing the Tour Divide. I had got to the hotel about 7.30 after riding for twelve and a half hours and covering 236km. I’m not sure I had managed to replenish the 6k of calories burnt but I placed an order for a continental breakfast at 4.30am and went to bed.
As a child I spent a lot of summer holidays on the East Coast of Ireland. We had a caravan at Portoriel and I used to walk across Clogherhead to the harbour and fish for mackerel off the stone pier. My mother’s family came from Carndonagh, which is in north, near Malin Head, and we visited once, packed into a mini, and me, being so young, asking if the copper pipes in the kitchen were made of ‘gold’.
The West Coast was very much a different land to me from the East, both wild and mysterious. The first time I went there as and adult was to Kinsale, Dingle and Kenmare on honeymoon. I remember being enchanted by the fuchsia hedges around Dingle and the craic in the pubs. Unfortunately our car was stolen in Dublin en route home and we lost all the photographs (we did get the car back and I Hotwire it all the way home with no number plates and didn’t get stopped once!).
When I saw the chance to apply to do the TransAtlantic Way race, organised by Adrian O’Sullivan, I thought I could revisit some of the places we went to on honeymoon and really get to know this fabled part of Ireland. I put an entry in for the Setanta Route which is shorter than the Cu Culhainn at 1700km. There is a way marked route up the West Coast of Ireland, The Wild Atlantic Way, and we would find ourselves covering long sections of it.
My entry confirmed I planned my trip there and back by train and ferry.
I have become accustomed to plotting train trips with the bike using the Trainline app and had to sort out connections to Holyhead, then a ferry to Dublin and then a train to Cork where we would start. I now see plotting the transfers as all part of the adventure and especially like it if I can use trains. You get to meet people or read, snooze and relax en route. Oh, argue with guards about the useless bike spaces provided on some trains….
I did stay overnight in Dublin in a Premier Inn which meant when I got to Cork I could cycle straight to registration, get my tracker and Brevet card and find my overnight accommodation which was in the same place. The plethora of cycle lanes in Dublin and Cork made the transit much easier than I anticipated and I was delighted with the student rooms Adrian had secured a a bargain price in Cork. Really comfortable.
There was also a photographer on hand to capture the riders before the start.
Finally there was the pre race briefing. Adrian talked about the inspiration Mike Hall had given him. He described the vagaries of the route: sheep and cows in the road, gravel on the bends and the fact that, because there was a car rally in Donegal, if we didn’t make the cut off by midnight on the Tuesday we would have to divert inland and miss the most north westerly part of the coastal route. I particularly wanted to do the latter as it would take me to Malin Head and past Carndonagh but I thought I would be pushed to make the distance before the cut off. He briefed us on the 2 checkpoints. One at Mizen Head “which is quite early on but it gives me a chance to sort out any Trackers that aren’t working” and the second at his cousin Annie’s farm in the middle of nowhere. He told us how Annie had insisted he route participants there as she loved meeting and looking after them. We were to be aware that it was a proper working farm and not to expect too much.
Briefing over it was time to eat and go to bed as we were to be at the Two Working Men statue for 4:30am.
The Fred Whitton is a classic sportive through the Lake District organised every year since 1999 in memory of the secretary of the Lakes Road club who died aged 50. I have done it once before in 2017 and remember it for ‘bonking’ not far from the finish and then finding a snack pack of Haribos in my back pocket that someone had given me near the start. They had an immediate restorative effect.
I entered and got a place through the ballot for this year. It meant I would be taking on two challenging rides within a week of each other. London Wales London and then the Fred. I was quietly pleased that my recovery from LWL seemed to go well and on the Saturday morning I did my pre race warm up which Niel Copeland, my coach, had put into my training plan. It wasn’t a doddle and boosted my confidence that I still had ‘legs’.
I was aiming to get to Grasmere to register on the Saturday, then set up camp at Rydal Hall before driving over to see an old friend who has a house near Coniston What I wasn’t expecting was to get a message from an ex work colleague with a photo from the event saying it had reminded him of me. Nor did I expect to find him and another ex colleague camping on the same pitch as me at Rydal! It was great fun to catch up.
Getting to and through Ambleside was slow work because of the traffic but my plan came together and I had my number and tag for the ride and the tent set up.
The weather was stunning so I wasn’t too worried the way I pitched the tent wasn’t exactly perfect…. (memo: must practice pitching better).
Google maps unexpectedly took me over Wrynose pass to get to Alistair’s. I definitely prefer doing it on a bike than in a car!
Alistair is a doctor as well and has got involved in the local mountain rescue team. He is in fact part goat as evidenced by his sorties up the climbs around him in the Lakes on foot and bike.
After a lovely dinner and catch up I headed back, avoiding Wrynose, to get some sleep.
Up at 4.30am to brew coffee, munch hot cross buns and pack everything up. Despite setting off around 5.30am there was slow traffic on the short drive to the start and I joined a very long queue of people 15min before the start.
The climbing kicks off with Kirkstone Pass which came up on my Garmin as the longest climb. I had no illusions about smashing it and had been advised to take it steady early on. It also meant I could really enjoy the weather and views.
I was passed by a constant stream of riders, some in chain gangs of 4 or 5, powering their way up the climbs. I suppressed the urge to latch on and paced myself, consuming multiple Rice Krispie Chocolate Squares, gels and Haribos. There would be no boring this time!
There were two feed stations on the route and I was hoping for some non-sugary food but all I could get at the first were some bananas and nut bars. I did manage to grab half a tuna sandwich at the second but maybe I should have stopped somewhere to get myself a pavement picnic. I definitely could have benefited from some coffee.
Honister pass brought back memories from All Points North. I remember getting up the climb and then turning round to ride back to Penrith where I had a room in a Premier Inn. The only night I slept indoors for that event and the only night it rained. It proved to be impossible to ride up it this time as there were cars log jammed on both sides of the road and riders trying to pass were obstructed by others walking up. Mostly the drivers were patient as there were plenty of signs telling them that 2,500 cyclists would be riding up these roads at the time they drove along them…
This time there was no turning back on Honister. I had to press on. Newlands also proved to be a leg tester.
The west coast came into view and I knew I would be turning back East, before long, towards the sting in the tail: Hardknott and Wrynose. I tried to suppress my fear of the climb on Hardknott and continue to enjoy the warmth, the views and the wonderful support given all round the route. There are people manning corners and junctions to make sure you stayed on course safely (there was even one person dedicated to a particularly nasty pothole!), water stops in addition to the food stops and general support from the public. Coming to the top of climbs, like Whinlatter, you would be greeted by cowbells, whistles and shouts of encouragement. It is so motivating.
I was also passing down memory lane as I have had a number of memorable holidays with the family in the Lakes. Turning into Eskdale was especially nostalgic as it is where I have had some fun camping holidays even though I napalmed a toe with melting marshmallow once (there is a stream through the campsite which helped relive the pain).
The road over Hardknott and Wrynose is closed for the event so I was surprised to get passed by a motorcyclist on the road up from Eskdale who subsequently looked very disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to roar up past the struggling stream of cyclists.
Did I ride up? Did I chuff. There has been a new emphasis on ‘durability’ for cycling. As I interpret it, it means can you sustain a hard effort at the end of a long ride as well as at the start. I need to talk to my coach about my durability but, unlike my previous attempt, at least I had SPDs rather than cleats and could push past other riders who were slip sliding on the hot tarmac. To be honest I am not sure I could have ridden up faster than I walked up the really steep bits. Kudos to those who can.
The view back down Eskdale from Honister
Just beyond the Summit of Wrynose I met Alistair who was manning a first aid/mountain rescue point. I blagged a couple of paracetamol off him for a headache I had developed but mainly just to make sure he was made use of 😉
My Garmin registered just one climb left. I crested it to yet another panoramic view and asked one of the crew to take a picture that included me and Gus.
I lost count of the number of times people complimented my bike (and my gearing). It is an incredibly comfortable ride and I am positive enhanced my experience.
Thereafter it was flat or downhill pretty much all the way to the finish where I could cash in my food voucher and devour a delicious pie with mushy peas.
Would I recommend the Fred? Without hesitation but I am grateful to Niel Copeland for helping me commission the bike and give me the training that made it a real pleasure to do. I am also grateful he advised me not to cycle to Plymouth for a walking holiday with friends this week. I would have had to start on the Tuesday to realistically make it for dinner on Thursday. I now know that was a very silly idea!
Audax is a cycling sport in which participants attempt to cycle long distances within a pre-defined time limit. Audax is a non-competitive sport: success in an event is measured by its completion. Audax has its origins in Italian endurance sports of the late nineteenth century, and the rules were formalised in France in the early twentieth century. So Says Wikipedia.
I can’t remember how I found out about it but London Wales London, a 400km Audax, piqued my interest and I entered. I then found out that both my coach and nemesis (Nadine ‘Gotcha’ Ansong) have done it and raved about it.
I needed to get down to Chalfont St Peter and be ready to go at 6am on the Saturday, so I booked a room in an Apartment Hotel just round the corner from the start. Of course Gus played up the week before, as for some reason my SRAM AXS rear derailleur went on the blink and I had to send it away to get it sorted out. So, as punishment, I rigged Gus with nearly everything I would be using on The Trans Atlantic Way in June.
The drive down was easier than I thought it would be on a Bank Holiday Friday. I got the last parking spot in the small courtyard at the back of the hotel and unloaded everything up to my room. Just as I was finishing unloading 3 women arrived with bikes, also doing LWL.
I was nervous and awake by 4.30am. I had bought a pot of porridge with me and some M&S fruity hot cross buns (allegedly the best and they were delicious). What I didn’t realise was that breakfast was available at the start.
The hall was already busy by the time I arrived, registered, got my Brevet card and had a second breakfast.
Liam FitzPatrick, the organiser, called everyone together just before 6am and reiterated his abhorrence of red flashing rear lights. In his informative and witty emails he had warned us of the consequences of having a flashing rear light: Finally, there are reports of roving gangs of zombies in Berkshire and Oxfordshire. They are attracted by flashing red lights and are easily avoided by keeping your rear lights on constant…
At exactly 6am we were off. We had 27 hours to complete the route, including any stopping.
One of the advantages of having a good coach is learning about all the things you can do to make life easier on the bike, not just the physical training. I had downloaded the GPX file of the route and then added in all the relevant points of interest before saving it to my Garmin. It meant I knew exactly how far it was to the first Control Point at Islip. I also marked cafes and garages en route if I needed to refuel (information provided by Liam). Niel, had advised me to get away at the head of the ride and find groups to pace me. This worked really well for the early part of the ride and I was bowling along much faster than I anticipated. Islip came really quickly.
There were three manned control points over the whole route with volunteers serving hot food. First though I got my Brevet card stamped. Third breakfast was a lovely sausage bap and a big mug of tea. The other thing Niel had told me was not to ‘faff’: I stopped for 12 minutes.
My next target was Tewkesbury where I needed to buy something and get a receipt to prove the date and time I had been through it. I joined the big crowd of fellow riders outside Aldi. The chilli chicken wrap was delicious.
Have I mentioned how gorgeous the weather was? Clear blue sky, sunshine and the only drawback was a bit of a headwind but not too severe. There is a neat app which can show you the weather you will experience. It also explains why it felt like there was a headwind on the way out and the way back; because there was!
Ok, so I got a little bit of push out of Wales.
After Tewkesbury there was an ‘information’ control at 186km. For this I had to write down the name of the house opposite a pub. The one vital bit of equipment I forgot to bring was something to write with. I took a photo and was able to borrow a pen when I got to Chepstow which was just beyond the half way mark. First though I had to get over Symonds Yat. This has a 20% section and as I was trying to catch the people who were walking up it one of them said “you should make it, you still have a gear left to go”. Embarrassingly useful feedback.
The route was mainly on quiet roads and wonderful views, including this of Chepstow Castle.
At the Church hall in Chepstow there was a choice of vegetarian or meat chilli. And cake. Although I had my phone on airplane mode for most of the ride (another tip from the coach) I made sure to take advantage of the stops at the manned control points to top it up. This explains the lack of pictures. That and the encroaching fatigue. I was over half way round and looking at the meters climbed, and still to go, believed the worst of the climbing was behind me. Fatigued and deluded.
I stopped for a little over 30minutes to refuel at Chepstow. It was after 5pm and the temperature was dropping. My next aim was to get to Lambourn, another manned control point, where I could also have a short sleep if needed. I had never ridden through the night before. On my first ultra race, All Points North, I had almost crashed when I nearly dozed off on the bike in the early hours. I had bivvied then and I was carrying a sleeping bag just in case I needed it now.
It was time to cross back into England across the wonderful cycle path on the Severn Bridge.
Lambourn was another 100km of riding, full of punchy little hills and a glorious sunset. I got there just after 2am and was so glad of the baked beans on toast and tea. On the bike I have been coached to eat regularly, aiming to get at least 60g of carbs in every hour. This usually means eating stuff like Haribos, Twix, Turkish delight, drinking Coca Cola. I had got so fed up, after hours of riding, with sweet stuff I bought a big packet of digestive biscuits to eat. That was mistake.Memo to self: it is not about enjoying the food, it is about eating the fuel.
By the time I reached Lambourn, I knew where the zombies Liam had warned us about would appear from. I had become one.
I checked out the sleeping area at the control point and mulled over my options. I now had 90km left to do, with a checkpoint at Henley on Thames. There I had to buy something from the 24hour garage and keep the receipt. Earlier on I had stopped to buy my biscuits at a garage and heard the woman behind the counter explain to some people that all the cyclists were doing a ride from London to Wales and back again. As I purchased my goods I told her I had knocked back an espresso from the machine – no charge! There are some very nice people around.
After spending just over half an hour at Lambourn, eating and thinking, I decided to press on. Outside one of the volunteers suggested I wait and ride with a group rather than on my own. Easier said than done as most people surged past me up the hills. I would like to think it was because I had decided to load the bike up with nearly everything I would take on the TAW. Several people, earlier in the day, had made admiring comments about Gus but not about the engine. The temperature had also really dropped and by this time I was wearing leg and arm warmers, a duvet jacket and my rain jacket. One of the advantages of having Gus fully loaded.
Passing through Goring, a little later, I noticed a Church hall with its doors open. It looked like a control point that wasn’t on my list. Then I remembered that my friend, Jerry Clough, was running the Centurion Thames path race from London to Oxford; 100 miles. I stopped and made enquiries. He had passed through about an hour before I got there. Kudos!
Also, another source of zombies?
Having the 24hr garage to aim for at Henley on Thames helped break up the last 90km. Another espresso and the first glimmerings of dawn restored a lot of energy and I pushed on over the last few hills to get back to Chalfont St Peter and the finish.
I presented my Brevet card, receipts and took a photograph of the completed stamps.
It was over. I had done my longest ever ride and for the first time ridden through the night.
The stats:
My thanks go to Niel Copeland for all his coaching and friendship as well as the rest of the Turn Cycling gang. Such a great bunch.
Most of all I have the most wonderful wife who supports me to head off and do all these rides without grumbling ever!
Would I recommend LWL? I now understand why the others raved about it – it is a brilliant event and I would give it five stars.
Given the circumstances, that year, I set off from home to cycle into the Peaks and do an unsupported ride with minimal human contact. I had my hardtail and some new bags.
I managed a couple of days, with a secluded wild camp near Ladybower, but found it much harder than anticipated and bailed out. It left me with an itch to go back and do the whole route. Being part of the Turn Cycling group (Niel runs a group chat on Discord which is a great for organising meet ups, insights and discovering new ways to spend money) I asked if anyone fancied doing the route on the first weekend of April. I got two takers, Niel and Cat Magill. I was a bit daunted by Cat accepting the invitation as she has done the Highland Trail 550 three times and The Silk Road Mountain Race last year!
We planned to meet up in the carpark at Hathersage where Niel would leave his van and Cat and I could get there easily by train as it is just round the corner from the station. Well it was easy for me coming from Shireoaks with my full suss adorned with Tailfin bags.
Cat had to get there from Edinburgh.
The plan worked!
We set off from Hathersage around 2pm to make the long climb up underneath Stanage Edge and then across and up the Long Causeway
Further on I managed to avoid the easy bypass to quite a technical section and then headed off down the wrong way enforcing a strenuous hike a bike back up to the other two, who I think were somewhat amused?
The riding was fun with some technical bits that had to be hiked and long gravelly downhills. Keeping up with Niel and Cat was stretching me but they patently had a lot of patience and given the weather none of us was complaining.
It did lead to an executive decision to cut off a loop on the route and head down to Newfold Farm in Edale where I had booked our camping for the night.
The campsite has all the amenities including a pub across the road where we had dinner. Just as we finished eating they announced the pub quiz. I haven’t participated in one for decades and of course didn’t need a pencil and paper as it was done using an app (which also makes it almost impossible to Google answers as there is little time to do so).
We really enjoyed it, especially as we made the podium, coming third!
The weather had been stunning all day and the sky cloudless.This did mean the temperature overnight dropped and I discovered a new fact. Sleeping mats have an R rating. It indicates how well the mat insulates you. Anything below 2 is best for summer use. I now know my mat is best for summer use. Of course the coach had the perfect set up. Meanwhile Cat bivvied!!
The second day was even better than the first. We looped back to do some of what we had missed out the day before and climbed the old road up to Mam Tor. The ridge along the back was full of walkers so we had to weave our way along it before descending back down towards Edale again.
Of course there was the ubiquitous hike a bike up over Cut Gate compensated for by the descent on the far side.
As we made our way over to Woodhead Pass we realised we were in for a ‘reet treat’. the pass was closed to cars and we had it all to ourselves on one long glorious descent down the Glossop side.
Once more creature comforts superseded perfectionism and we cut some of the route off to get to a campsite in Hayfield. there was pub just above it, on the road, but they told us they weren’t taking any walk in’s. There is, however, a superb Italian in Hayfield where the portions are designed for mountain bikers and the wine tastes sublime (well anything tastes sublime after the day’s riding we had had). Cat declared the day ‘rad’ and I put my emergency blanket under my sleeping mat which helped me sleep really well despite the temperature once more dropping (or was it the wine?).
We couldn’t believe out luck when day 3 dawned with more glorious sunshine.
There was long tarmac climb out of Hayfield before we got off road again and across the Peak Forest to Tideswell.
there we met up with Jonny and had a second breakfast.
The Monsal Trail was packed with runners doing a half marathon and walkers. I also got shouted at for turning on my Exposure light in the tunnels as it, allegedly, blinded people…well at least they knew I was coming.
Up over Curbar and then across and round to Surprise Corner before
making the fast descent back to the carpark and the station.
Cat and I took the train to Sheffield where she headed north and I discovered the next two trains back to Shireoaks had been cancelled. I would have to wait over two hours for a train. Or I could just cycle home, which is what I did.
What a weekend of great riding, great weather, great company and great fun.
The hotel breakfast was served at 7.30am. I had woken at 3am with hunger. I had brought a Firepot Porridge and Banana breakfast with me so boiled a kettle, rehydrated it and ate it in the middle of the night before falling back to sleep with my hunger assuaged.
On the Turn Cycling Discord platform there is a thread dedicated to nutrition. I have been trying to up my game and have set an alarm on my Garmin to go off every 30m to remind me to eat something. This trip has made me realise the easiest thing is just to keep eating all the time. If I start a Twix (32.4g of carb) by the time I finish it, it will be time to eat some Haribos (handful = 20g) and then move onto a Turkish delight.
I went back and had a look at some of the blogs I did on my early ultra rides and realised a big theme was constant hunger. In fact, in retrospect, I probably was hypoglycaemic at one point on the 2VS!
The fact some people aim for 90g or 120g of carb an hour flabbergasts me as I find it hard enough to get 60g in. Anyway, I switched to Twix, Turkish Delight, Haribos and Snickers today, which seems to work as my innards were quiescent.
Yet again the views were awesome, the weather perfect and the trails in good condition
The climb up to Stiperstones was brutal, closely followed by one before the descent to Church Stretton.
I watched Guy Kesteven’s YouTube videos of the route after we had done it (doh!). To be honest, if you want to see everything he points out you would have to make a number of diversions. I did enjoy the standing stones and learning about the folklore surrounding them afterwards made more sense, as I probably wouldn’t have remembered owt due to oxygen deprivation at the time I passed them.
Church Stretton had a delightful cafe but looking at the time, the distance still to do and the climbs between me and Shrewsbury on the route meant I decided to leave the three amigos and main road it back in order to catch my train at 4pm. I did giggle when my Garmin flashed up a climb, the only one between Church Stretton and Shrewsbury, which was 590m long with an ascent of 13m….
I made it in good time to have tea and a buttered teacake at the station.
Of course, on the way home, the guard on the Crosscountry train said I should have hung my bike up in the space provided. I suggested he try, given the weight and the handlebar width he agreed it was not possible. He said he would not have let me on the train if he had known. FFS!! When are the railway companies going to stop punishing cyclists?? It’s not the guard’s fault but the area reserved for bikes and ‘large luggage’ could be easily adapted to make it more bike friendly.
I made it home, ate, and collapsed into a coma.
Niel, as well as being a coach, is a keen photographer and videographer. There may be a video of the trip if he can find the time to edit the shots he took (I mean he carried a camera, a GoPro and a drone!). Below are some of the pics he has shared so far. Memories of an incredible 3 day trip in great company and surroundings.
Would I recommend doing the Marcher Castle Way? 100%
Thanks to Penny, Jo and Niel for always waiting at the top 🙂
It was a small Travelodge so breakfast was sourced from the Co-op across the car park. Our aim for the day was to get to Montgomery where Jo had booked a hotel room whilst Penny, Niel and I planned to camp.
Although the route could be done on a Gravel bike the three of us had elected to use full suspension mountain bikes. This is, undoubtedly, due to the influence of our coach, Niel Copeland. From my perspective it made for a very comfortable ride and the mtb gears helped on the ‘undulations’.
The terrain en route from Ludlow to Montgomery is very mixed and, although we were lucky with the weather, there were still some muddy bits to navigate and each day threw a bit of hike a bike at us.
Even though you are in a highly populated country the route can feel very remote and exposed with off road climbs and descents. There were significant gaps between resupply options. Resupply when available is essential.
We had a pavement picnic in Knighton and got our water supply restocked in Clun.
Pressing on towards Montgomery we were all feeling the strain of the incessant hills. Maintaining enough carb intake was also impacting on my gut. I was trying to make sure that I was eating enough to take in about 60gcarb/hour but my choice of nutrition meant I was experiencing some discombobulations in my belly. Our progress was good but we knew we would probably not make Montgomery until about 7pm. We decided we should all eat together at the hotel Jo was staying at and then Niel Penny and I would head for the campsite. Penny made contact to let them know we would be late which is when we discovered the campsite had a burst pipe and the showers weren’t working. By then I had already silently decided I was going to ask if they had a room at the hotel and I made this thinking public.
Before Montgomery there is the most beautiful plateau ride. It is a haul to get up to it but worthwhile for the views. Before you get to descend to Montgomery there is a stinger of a climb again and then we were outside the hotel and wheeled our bikes through to the back and the laundry room where they would be stored for the night.
I got to reception to discover that Niel was negotiating a good rate for three more rooms! I fear my weak will had a domino effect and we decided to all stay the night.
Bowel decompression, dinner, shower and then bed…….I didn’t have a shave 😉
I joined Cycling UK last year, I think, and was intrigued when they published details of a new route on the Welsh Border: the Marcher Castles Way.
When Penny from the Turn Cycling gang (as Niel Copeland’s coachees are called) asked if anyone was interested in doing it I looked at the dates proposed and arranged for the dog to be looked after as my wife would be at a conference. Ok, she arranged for the dog to be looked after so I could join Penny, Niel and Jo mid week and do the route over three days.
I planned my rail journey from Shireoaks to Shrewsbury and enjoyed the different space given bikes on the Crosscountry train compared with Transport for Wales or my local Northern train to Sheffield. The Crosscountry train had space patently designed by someone who has no experience of any bikes other than drop handlebar road bikes without any luggage.
I got to Birmingham New Street and met Penny who was already on the train to Shrewsbury. Two fully loaded mountain bikes? Transport for Wales = no problem.
Disembarking at Shrewsbury we learnt that Jo and Niel had been held up as the M40 was closed following a very bad accident. They told us to press on. So we did.
Leaving alongside the river we made pretty good progress passing an old Roman Fort at Wroxeter
If you want insights into all the history and archaeology of the route then there is no better source than Guy Kesteven’s YouTube videos which are based on his recce of the route. You can download the full GPX files from the CyclingUK website and order the guidebook as well.
I began to realise that the route was going to take me back through parts I had ridden last year on the Solstice Sprint. Once more I went around the Wrekin, from which comes the phrase ‘going all around the Wrekin’. The phrase can also be used figuratively to describe someone who talks or explains things in a rambling or roundabout way, taking a long time to get to the point. Maybe I shouldn’t point that out….
The Solstice Sprint also took us through Ironbridge which even on a second visit is impressive.
What began to impress me even more, and continuously, were the views. This was a constant throughout the route, aided by the fact that it ‘undulates’ significantly.
We soon encountered our first hike a bike section. Do not underestimate the climbing on this route. It was relentless and in some places quite savage but then you are rewarded with the descents and even the climbs had views to look back on.
Given the time of year and it being Wales we were surrounded by lambs, everywhere!
We made the top of the final hill just as the sun was setting and descended to Ludlow using our lights.
Meanwhile Niel and Jo had short-circuited a bit of the route to get to the Travelodge before us and made sure we could order dinner in the pub next to it. This is one advantage of the route, it can be shortened if needs must.
I do like it when the hotel lets you keep your bike in your room. After all, according to FlannO’Brien, the molecular interchange between you and the bike means that, by now, my mountain bike is part human and I am part bike…..
One thing I know is that when you finish riding you carry on eating. It is impossible to keep up with the energy you burn. I estimate I was burning about 5000-8000 calories a day and there was no way the stuff I was eating was keeping up with that. This means you have a voracious appetite. Fortunately Darren had found somewhere for brunch in Annecy.
We also caught up with Paul who had scratched a bit further on than us and made his way to Grenoble by bike and then Annecy where we met him for the train to Annemasse.
We then decided to ride the last 30 odd kilometres to Thonon les Bains and find accommodation. It was a lovely ride through rolling countryside adjacent to the lake.
We got to the finish and collected our bags and then I had a steep hill to climb to get to the rather swish (but inexpensive) studio apartment I had booked in the centre of town. Only subsequently did I discover the funicular took me right to the top of the hill avoiding the huge effort required to push a bag and bike up the hill! [Well Paul did a lot of the work…]
Time passes quickly as you enjoy a steaming hot shower, change into normal clothes and shoes, pack bags and bikes away and meet and greet friends as they arrive at the finish.
Of the nine of us who started only one would finish: Niel. The rest of us scratched. Jo and JoJo got the furthest. More proof that women are better at endurance rides than a lot of men.
Stuart’s story
Meanwhile we were hearing more of Stuart’s adventures. He had decided that trying to do the route on a gravel bike was incredibly hard. So he logically went and bought himself a full sus mountain bike! Apparently he arranged for the gravel bike to be shipped home and then set off only to discover that the bike had downhill tyres which made for hard going on the tarmac. So he logically went and got the tyres changed. He seemed to experience the most friendly people who took him into Gites and fed him. Ultimately he also scratched but then plotted his route home by train and ferry. He was the only one of us who did not use a plane or car. Kudos!
The finishers party was scheduled for about 7pm on the Saturday. Of course Niel arrived not long after it started to rapturous applause.
Screenshot
At the time he said it was the hardest event he has done, which is something coming from someone who has done rides in the Andes, Atlas Mountains, Balkans and the Silk Road Mountain Race.
The evening ended with five of us having a Chinese meal before splitting up to make our way home the next day; by train and plane for me and the same or cars for the others.
They say you should not spend your money on material goods but on experiences. The joy of events like this is you can do both 😉
Let me finish with a poem a good friend posted recently that captures what I feel about participating in such an event.
Leisure
by William Henry Davies
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
Thanks: to Niel Copeland for coaching and getting me there. Linda, David and Alice for putting up with my idiosyncrasies. Thanks to Stuart, Paul, Darren, Haico, Martin, Jo and JoJo for being such wonderful company and sharing this amazing event. Thanks to Alex for making it easy to find my way home. Until next time:
Having scratched didn’t mean the challenge stopped. Now it was time to find a way to get to Thonon where our bags were and people would be congregating for the finishers (and scratchers) drinks on Saturday night.
I had access to a major asset. Alex Armstrong is another member of the Turn Cycling gang. I first met him doing the 2 Volcano Sprint and was supposed to have done Via this summer which he did and completed despite temperatures across Spain in the mid forties! Messaging Alex led me to a great app called Rome2Rio which helped me look at travel options.
Darren and I packed up and headed down to the bus stop. The bus arrived and there was no problem at all in getting our bikes into the storage in the belly.
It was stunningly cheap as well, less than 5euros). We arrived in Gap with a considerable wait for your train to Grenoble so settled down in a nearby park, after a huge pizza, to doze and watch the boules players.
Kris made me feel a little guilty when we met him at a bar opposite the station as he rode there….
The train journey had superb views and the three of us chatted and laughed and swopped stories all the way to Grenoble.
In Grenoble station I liked the little ramps they have installed to make life easier for cyclists 🙂
Kris was stopping over in Grenoble but Darren and I had decided to push onto Annecy. Darren found a two bedroom Airbnb not far from the station. what we didn’t expect was the narrow passage off the street, only just wide enough for the bikes, and the mediaeval staircase to the second floor!
It made getting the bikes up to the apartment harder than ascending an alpine col!
We had arrived late but ordered a kebab through UberEats before crashing out.
Cycling Coffee and Cake 