A long time ago a senior colleague (American) told me “It’s better to be lucky than good”. I would prefer both attributes but luck did favour me on this edition of the Dales Divide.
The first bit of luck was someone from the coaching group I am in (Turn Cycling) offer the room he had booked at The Olde Fighting Cocks up as he could no longer do the event. I snapped it up as I had left it too late to book, having decided quite late in the day to enter. This would be my third time staying there and it is incredibly convenient for the start.
There was the usual kit explosion in the morning before I drove up to the car park at Milnthorpe and then rode back to the start on the pier in Arnside
The weather was wet and windy and we had the addition of Storm Dave predicted to arrive Saturday night. All day Friday it felt as if it had already arrived! The going was tough with the off road sections muddy, slippy with plenty of head wind at times.
I found the going hard and slow and was sure I was behind any previous time I had done on the first day.
I didn’t get to the cafe before Chris’s farm until 4.30pm. I was told they stopped serving food at 3.30 but they took pity on me and I got a plate of beans on toast and some coffee. The weather had somewhat improved as well!
Malham Tarn was the next landmark and was bathed in a warm evening light.
I pushed on and tried to get some of the hills and bogs before York out of the way before it got too late. Around 11pm I decided it was time to rest and found a secluded spot in a dip in the road under some trees. I pitched the tent and rehydrated a packet of Expedition Food Chicken Noodles. Despite my efforts I found it hard to eat and finally collapsed into my sleeping bag around midnight.
Day 2
There is a problem with the Lofoten Tent with condensation. the bottom of my sleeping bag was wet on the outside but I didn’t have time or the weather to dry it. I packed up whilst making myself some porridge and coffee. I was so glad I had brought a small stove, it was a life saver.
Setting off I surged up a climb only realising I had left my light behind and had to return and repeat the hill I had done so far!
It was pretty good going to York but the weather forecast had not changed and there were dire warnings about Storm Dave. I summed and ahhd, while riding into York about whether to divert onto the short cut that headed north to Osmotherley while enjoying the offerings made by a trail angel!
In York I dithered whilst also trying to download the diversion to my Garmin (memo: put all alternatives on your Garmin before the event!). Ultimately I had to resort to putting my phone onto the quad lock I had on my handlebars and plug it into my power bank to let me navigate the route. Tow bits of luck again. Firstly I had a quad lock, which I hardly ever use, on my handlebars and secondly I had learnt from my coach, Niel Copeland, that the app would work in flight mode saving battery wear.
Rounding a corner I almost fell off my bike with surprise to find the aforementioned coach greeting me! He said the conditions were some of the worst he had ever experienced and the going was so slow he had decided to take the shorter route. It validated my decision for me and I tried chasing him for a while before he easily pulled away into the distance.
there was a nasty steep climb up onto the hills before Osmotherley which I mostly had to walk. Then there were miles of glorious gravel track and a tailwind so strong if I sat up it felt like my speed nearly doubled!
I made Osmotherly late in the evening. Niel had said he was heading on to Catterick Garrison but I felt that much extra was too much. I rounded the corner to check out the only hotel in town. Booking.com had no vacancies. There was Aman standing outside having a cigarette. he looked at me, “Have you booked a room?” “No, you don’t have any free do you?” “I’ve just had a cancellation.” Once again Lady Luck struck. I hit the bar for a hot meal and then a shower and bed. Outside Storm Dave raged.
I woke very early after less than 3hrs sleep. I was excited, despite the lack of sleep, as I anticipated the possibility of finishing.
I had a big climb to get over (called Poison Glen Full on Strava: 5km average 4%) and then made it to the entrance to Glenveagh. There were toilets! The relief at finding a toilet is not to be scoffed at on these long rides. Shortly after I arrived Jackie and Rupert turned up as well. I had been yo-yoing with them and Paula the last couple of days. It was nice to have some company as we made our way round the gravel track in Glenveagh, a scenic route.
I found a resupply and decided it was a good time to up the caffeine energy drink game.
I was making my way to Rathmullen for another ferry crossing. Jackie and Rupert disappeared ahead and for some reason I had it in my head it was only a few kilometres to the ferry. It wasn’t but I rationalised I was still munching the distance under my wheels so it didn’t matter and the views continued to exceed expectations.
As I got to the ferry I found Rupert and Jackie. they had made it there just as the ferry was pulling out and hour before. It was just pulling in again and we all got on board and I found somewhere to charge some of my electronics as we crossed to Buncrana.
The next major landmark would be Malin Head. Unfortunately there were some pretty lumpy bits still to get over.
The weather had turned ‘damp’ again so I took a moment to swop out my normal for waterproof socks. These worked a dream keeping my feet warm and dry in the rain. Totally recommend.
I made it to Malin Head around 6pm and had a little moment as I remembered my mother and the trip we had made here all those years ago.
We were not far, either, from Carndonagh, where the family had a house I visited as a pre-teen. the Bridge House, I think it was called. The copper pipes in the kitchen gleamed so brightly I remember asking if they were made of gold, to much laughter.
Annie Dixey had come third overall on the Setanta route and first woman to finish. She had texted me earlier in the day:”Keep some legs for the ride from Malin to Derry. There are some unnecessary hills.
It was about 70-80km to Derry and there were several climbs between me and the finish including one of 3.5km at 4% (30minute effort) and the Kinnego Bay climb at 6% average which took me nearly an hour to summit (some hiking was involved on the steeper bits).
Remember I said how time warps when riding – the last 20km lasted an eternity before I saw the Peace Bridge lit up in the distance.
It was about midnight as I rolled across the bridge to finish. At the far end Annie was waiting and shouting “top ten finisher”. I couldn’t believe it and expressed my disbelief with many a WTF! It took me several days to really believe that I had come in tenth on the Setanta route. Of the 49 riders who started only 4 scratched.
I made my way to the accommodation to be met by a surprised Adrian who said ” I wan’t expecting you to finish until two or three am!”. I had a cup of tea and found a bunk to sleep in. I had done it in 6 days 18hours and 40minutes.
I wanted an early start so I could get distance done today. I was getting used to instant porridge for breakfast but cold rice pudding was a new dish and was pretty damned good! I had also washed my bib shorts overnight and found a use for a hairdryer. Those of you who know me will understand that I normally have no use for a hairdryer…
The streets were empty and glistening with the overnight rain as I set off.
As was always the case the first 20 or more kilometres sped by. This is never the case at the end of a day when the last 20km seem to take forever.
I was heading for Donegal and would be passing through Sligo where I had been on a walking holiday only the year before.
But before I got to Sligo I heard the dreaded hiss of a puncture and pulled over to inspect the rear tyre. I leant the bike against a wall and could see sealant bubbling up. A woman emerged on the drive to the house I was stopped outside. She invited me onto the drive to fix my puncture and then insisted on bringing me coffee and freshly baked scones with butter and jam.
Meanwhile I was reaching into my tool bag to find some plugs for the puncture as it wasn’t sealing. I searched in vain. I had no plugs and remembered putting them out at home to put into the tool bag…..
What I did have was some superglue and a patch for my airbed. I smeared glue over the hole and applied the patch. It sealed the puncture. I inflated the tyre with the electric pump. It held.
MacGyver: make or repair (an object) in an improvised or inventive way, making use of whatever items are at hand.
This repair held for the next 500km and beyond. In fact I have done nothing to it since I got home!
What I did want was to lay my hands on some plugs just in case it didn’t hold. A quick Google search revealed a bike shop which would be open in Sligo at 10am. I got there about 20minutes before it was due to open and waited.
At 10am someone turned up.
“Have you got any tubeless plugs?” “I don’t think so, but let’s look”. My heart sank then rose as he found a pack on the counter!
Just as I was leaving another rider rolled in to get his rear tyre replaced as it had worn right down.
Confidence restored I pushed on past Yeats resting place and the mountains I had been clambering over a year before.
The weather started to perk up and I spotted a little cafe in Kinlough where I ordered a delicious wrap and chips and coffee – the first hot meal I had sat down for in a while.
I have memories of a road trip with my mother and brother up to Donegal and to visit the town where my mother’s family had come from. What I hadn’t seen were the spectacular beaches along the coast.
There were some pretty stiff climbs through Donegal and the route was ‘undulating’. By the end of the day I would have nearly 3000m of climbing.
This was Glengesh pass which took me nearly an hour to climb and was about 200km into the day’s riding.
Someone had asked me earlier in the day where I planned to stop and I replied “I’ll ride and decide”. I had made my mind up to push as far into the evening as I could and bivvy for the night. The forecast looked good and it meant I didn’t have to worry about finding somewhere to stay. Even at 10pm it was still light.
Eventually I found somewhere beside the road where I could roll out my bivvy bag. First I had to liberally cover my head with Smidge as the midges were a nightmare. I slid into my sleeping bag, lay down and was asleep pretty quickly. It had been a long and challenging day but I was still on course to finish in 7 days.
I had my breakfast of instant porridge, bread roll and banana along with instant coffee in my room.
I was off early and on a very nice bike path, the Great Western Greenway, out towards Achill Island.
I had now done over a thousand kilometres. Originally I had thought the route would take me 8 days but a plan to finish in 7 days was fomenting in my brain. It seemed feasible so long as I had a fair wind and no catastrophes.
There was another memorial to the Spanish Armada on my route. Apparently 5 ships from the Armada sank just off the coast here as they tried to make their way home.
If the wind they experienced was anything like the block headwind I had cycling out to Achill Island then I am not surprised they were wrecked! The flags by the side of the road were straining the poles they were attached to and it was a real battle to maintain momentum or, if I turned sideways onto the wind, to stay upright.
That didn’t detract from the views. The coast line was ragged with multiple inlets and so beautiful.
Eventually I got to turn North up the coast before heading East towards Ballina where I planned to stop.
I made a stop at a chemist to buy some insoles. I had been suffering achilles pain and attributed it to some new supports I had bought for my shoes shortly before the race. I had taken them out a couple of days ago and was riding with no insoles which seemed to help but I was worried I would wear through my socks as the top of the cleats were now exposed. A vey nice assistant in the chemists cut some insoles to fit and solved the problem.
I also refuelled at a petrol station.
The road to Ballina was very straight and I had a tailwind.
I had booked another guesthouse and after some wandering around, once I got to where I thought it was, I located the front door just as someone who worked there arrived, let me in, and gave me advice on where not to eat! I decided to repeat my Tesco raid and settled for more cold pasta, chocolate milk and cold rice pudding. Tomorrow would determine if I could make it to Derry in two days or not, so I collapsed into bed and fell asleep in moments.
The day started with some confusion. I had ordered a continental style breakfast for 4.30am. When I got down to the dining area the overnight porter said both the 4.30 breakfasts were taken and the next was at 5am. Some sleuthing deduced that one of the peeps tucking into a 4.30 repast had actually ordered his for 5am but with some limitations to his English had assumed what he got was what he ordered. Did it matter? Nah. the night porter just brought out the food and coffee and all was well.
I can confirm I was on the road by 5.09am as that is what this photo of Bantry Bay is labelled with on the computer.
The weather was much better than yesterday and views along the coast unfolded delightfully.
The first big climb of the day was Healey Pass about 6km long at 4-5%. A classy little climb with lots of hairpins and through some rocky terrain.
And then you get to the top and catch the view ahead and a cracking descent
I couldn’t get over how lovely the countryside was, how quiet the roads were and how good the petrol stations were as a source of food. I had heard tell that they were good but they exceeded expectation with their hot and cold deli counters, coffee machines and bountiful supply of carbohydrate laced nourishment.
There were also some cracking cafes and passing through Kenmare I spotted two other TAW cyclists finishing off food and coffee and one told me the pie was delicious. Well I had to, didn’t I! She was right. I think it was Paula who told me this and she will feature more later in the race.
Another pass followed, the Gap o Dunloe with twisty roads and fine views.
If I remember correctly the only traffic consisted of horse drawn traps and walkers so I was able to get someone to take a picture of me at the crest of the pass.
By this point I had done about 100km and it was not yet noon. On reflection I think the secret to the ride was starting early. I am naturally a morning person and starting around 5am means a good chunk of distance is behind you by lunchtime (whenever that is).
On my descent I came past a real life Trail Angel. I screeched to a halt and turned back to take advantage of his offer of energy bars. Thank you Dave, they were a very useful in addition to the sausage baguette and coke from a petrol station, a little later, that marked ‘lunchtime’.
Dingle marked the passing of 160km or 100miles. I have fond memories of Dingle as Linda and I took a bike ride out along the fuchsia hedged roads when we were there on our honeymoon and, once more, the fuchsia was in bloom.
I had decided I would try and make Tralee for the day and started looking on Booking.com for somewhere to stay. Unfortunately there was nowhere to book. It had also started to rain and I had to don my overtrousers as well as my jacket a couple of times. It was too hot to wear if not raining but too wet not to put on if it was. The downpours would only last 30minutes to an hour so it was a bit of a faff but I have learnt it is best to try and stay dry otherwise I can quickly get cold and chafe.
Before Tralee there was Connor Pass to be climbed. I am looking at my record on Strava and can see that it took me just over an hour to climb 6.5km with an average of 6%. Another lesson I learnt is to enjoy the climb at a pace I can sustain. There is always a descent to enjoy and catch up on some of the time lost.
I made it to Tralee and asked someone on the street if they knew of a hotel. they pointed me in the direction of The James Hotel. I asked the doorman if they had any rooms. “We only have a superior left at xxx euros”. I must have looked doubtful as he suggested trying a place across the street. It may have been a guesthouse but I could not fathom how to get in or connect with anyone so I went back and said I would take the room. “Any chance of dinner?” “The kitchen is shut now but let me see what I can do.” Meanwhile I got to my room, showered, put on a clean t shirt (I had to wear my bib shorts as I had no other clothes) and went back down to the bar. “Would you like a pizza?” Oh, how wonderful! A pizza and Guinness zero put me right and the doorman gave me extra biscuits and tea and coffee when he learned I was leaving before breakfast the next morning. I thoroughly recommend The James Hotel 🙂
It had been a good day and I had made more than 250km that day before I collapsed into a nice, comfortable bed, with the alarm set for early o’clock.
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.
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…..
The rustling started early and I could see Jo was packing so I hauled myself out of my sleeping bag around 4am. Previous experience of alpine huts had taught me to ask if they would leave breakfast out if we planned an early start. Sure enough there was hot water, coffee, milk, cereal bread, butter and jam to feast on. It was still dark outside when we set of just before 5am, necessitating lights to see the path but above us the stars in the sky were magnificent. I rarely get to capture them with a phone camera but this was an exception.
I started the traverse of the salt road and, as the dawn smashed the sky blue, a beautiful day enveloped me surrounded by staggering views..
I was playing tag with Haico, Jo and Martin. Jo had been bitten by an Alsatian somewhere on the trail and when we met up at the refuge Barbera we were able to have a good look at the wound. Phone calls home elicited that there was no real risk of rabies (confirmed by Niel who is well versed in getting rabies shots having been bitten on another event in Europe). I should have insisted she source some antibiotics as dog bites quickly get infected due to the bacteria inhabiting their mouths. She cleaned and dressed it and was soon ready to carry on.
The off road finally came to an end and there was a wonderfully sinuous tarmac descent to Tende (I think) where we all stopped at a Carrefour for resupplies. There were other cyclists there, including Stuart. I bought the best food I had sourced at a supermarket since starting – a glass jar of cold rice pudding. My spork was put into action! Then there was another beast of a climb – 26km. Mostly paved but petering out towards the end. Gradually the light faded as we climbed. Tail lights blinked high above me. Gabbi Winck set up camp not far below the col. Her video of the event captures the terrain and scenery brilliantly https://youtu.be/HefS1F8VtvA?si=-Xgr3i9e_AVqsw0g
I kept moving; slowly. Jo had said she had booked a cabin 80km further on which she and Martin were aiming for. I didn’t feel I could make it that far so, as I descended I started looking for places to pitch the tent.
Unbeknownst to me Martin had accidentally left his rear bag undone and was in the process of losing his tent and cold weather gear which was an utter disaster for his race!
I came across an area with the top of a ski lift and some cabins. One of them was lit up so I descended a short way off route to see if I could source some water.
Inside were half a dozen French people eating their dinner. After the initial shock of seeing this apparition appear out of the dark they made me come in, gave me water, cheese sandwiches, tomatoes and a peach! I found it hard to pack it all into my camelback but felt it would be rude to refuse.
Back on the route I shortly afterwards found a picnic area which, despite the barking dog in the nearby house, looked perfect. I put up the tent, ate and then squirrelled my way into the sleeping bag. It was nearly midnight but I was pretty pleased with my riding and looking forward to finding a town to have breakfast in tomorrow.
Cycling Coffee and Cake 