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2009 Blog

What follows here is a blow-by-blow account of 2009, as it has unfolded. The aim has been to create a diary which might be of some interest to fellow riders who are looking for inspiration, ideas, or are just bored and hope this will be interesting (hopefully it will be!)

My aims for the year have been based around a week-long traverse of the Alps in June, and our attempt to join the Mad Club of the Ventoux by riding the Giant of Provence 3 times in a single day in August. Oh, and I wanted to do some triathlons too. So, whether you are training for the Etape, doing your first ever sportive, or just looking to improve your cycling, there may be some ideas here which can help you.

As well as thoughts and personal views, I have tried to include a few photos too. Enjoy

December 31st: Ice

2009 draws to a close and frustration has been the name of the game these last 3 weeks. The ice and snow which has gripped the country has made cycling a high-risk sport, probably even more dangerous than freefall parachuting. There are just so many times you can haul yourself onto the turbo-trainer, even with the added attraction of a cycling DVD to help pass the session. I have relived the 2008 Etape, the 2002 stage to Luz Ardiden and various other (in)famous cycling moments. My preparations for the New Years Day Triathlon in Edinburgh have been, shall we say, severely compromised. Having said that, at the moment, there may not be a triathlon on NYD, the course is ice-bound and unrideable. Proper winter, eh?

All this has left me pondering the highs and lows of 2009 (ignoring the current inactivity as an obvious low). There are a few obvious candidates and, in no particular order, my memories of 2009 are as follows:

* Mark Cavendish winning Milan San Remo. Awesome sprint, probably only one rider in the world capable of catching Heinrich Haussler and pipping him in such dramatic fashion. Haussler must have nightmares...
* Bradley Wiggins reborn. From track supremo, unbeatable over 4000m (though it would be interesting to see him go head to head with Geraint Thomas). After Cav's antics in the sprint stages, Bradley made the Tour interesting by reinventing himself as a GC contender. What drama on the Ventoux.
* Team GB back on the road to 2012 with a world-shattering display at Manchester. The trackies took a whopping 10 gold medals to leave the rest of the cycling world reeling.
* The launch of Team Sky heralds a new era of British road cycling, and promises much. 2010 will be interesting, especially with Bradley on board
* Russell Downing stuns the big guns with his fantastic ride in the Tour of Ireland, especially that last lap of St Patricks Hill in Cork. Worthy of rider of the year if it wasn't for the above

On a personal level, 2009 has delivered much, as anyone who has stayed with me through the year while I have added to my blog will realise. What 2009 has taught me is that anthing is possible. The Ventoux Three, the Alpine traverse, yet more sportives notably Picardy and the Cumberland Challenge, a salutary introduction to the art bike racing (or should that be time-trialling?!), an experience right outside the comfort zone in the Keswick triathlon. All these things have increased my desire to come back and do even more next year. The stand-out highlight remains the Ventoux trip, sharing with Paul that third and final ascent in the evening sunshine was an amazingly special moment, on a par with the 2008 Etape. Probably the thing I take from this year more than anything though is that it is rather wonderful to ride a bike, and to be able to do so with friends is very special. So if you have the opportunity to do something in 2010 grab that opportunity with both hands and, above all, enjoy it. Happy New Year!

December 14th: Festive Cheer

As Christmas approaches so the tendency to name events after the seasonal festivities grows apace. This last weekend hasbeen an opportunity to enjoy two such events, and a bit of cross training to boot. Saturday was a chance to get my running shoes on, and see just what effect my new gym training is having. The Langdale Christmas Pudding 10k road race took place, amongst the glorious scenery of the Great Langdale fells on a day when the weather was very kind, if a tad cold. Indeed, for running, it couldn't have been much better with hardly a breath of wind as the 450 or so runners of all shapes and sizes lined up outside the Dungeon Ghyll ready for the off at noon. As I watched the lead runners drifted off into the distance, my admiration for their ability to glide across the tarmac tempered by my own inability to do so. Nevertheless, I did enjoy it as, starting from the back, I ghosted past numerous runners and the field gradually thinned out. The discovery that I had left my watch in the car meant that I had no idea how fast I was running and I pressed a number of fellow competitors for timechecks along the route. At halfway, the run loops back from Elterwater and the view up the valley is astounding. Still 5km to go, much of it uphill and that gym work was beginning to pay off. Unlike previous runs I found I was actually passing runners on the hills, this was a novel experience for me and I enjoyed it thoroughly! As the last kilometer sign came into view I put in my trademark final burst (you have to use some imagination here) and raced across the line for a time of 51m 46s, finishing in a respectable 244th position. I was gobsmacked, this is over 4 minutes faster than last year. Maybe this leg strengthening is having some impact.

On Sunday it was the turn of the bike as a number of us rolled up at Grasmere Village Hall for the Cumbrian Christmas Cracker Sportive, a 65 mile jaunt down to Cartmel and back. Icy overnight temperatures meant frosty roads and the organisers sensibly tempered the route to avoid Red Bank and its 25% iceclad slopes. That apart, we enjoyed a pretty trouble free ride out, and the team treated it as a Sunday club ride. The only deviation from this was when we formed up to ride what amounted to a 9-man team time- trial back out of Cartmel, ripping along at some 22mph for some miles in tight formation. The chance to ride roads we don't normally encounter is always fun, and the challenge came in the form of the climb out of Grizedale over to Hawkshead, later in the afternoon. That apart, there was a grand spread at Cartmel village hall and Christmas pudding and custard as we arrived back in the dark. What a cracking weekend this has been. Proof that it is well possible to enjoy these winter months, even with adverse weather and short days.

December 4th

Border City Wheelers have just enjoyed the company of young British cyclist Ben Swift for a question and answer session here in Carlisle tonight. It has been most enjoyable to watch as one of our rising young stars conducts himself wonderfully and modestly, hopefully acting as an inspiration to the large number of youngsters (and indeed a number of older riders, myself included) in the audience. Ben gave us insight into how he came into the sport, his own role models and what it felt like to suddenly be riding with them in this year's Giro d'Italia, a dream come true. And I guess what it tells is that if you want it enough it can happen. Whatever the future, I will certainly keep an eye on this guy's progress in the sport. Good luck Ben!

My winter training is now underway. Two weeks into my new gym programme it is still early days. Dragging myself out of bed an hour earlier to get through a session before work has never been my strongpoint, but I will try to stick with it, and hopefully reap the benefits come the spring next year. With a hard spinning session and a long (for me) turbo session too this week my legs feel the need for some TLC, so maybe it will be a light spin tomorrow before Sunday's club run in the rain.

November 26th: A new addition

After the sad demise of Paul's bike during the epic Cumberland Challenge, it has been a question of patience as we explored the possibilities and finally settled on a new frame. Of course, it had to be Dolan - Paul, by his own admission, has coveted a carbon Dolan for a couple of years. So the idea of building one up to his exact specification and measurements was a no-brainer. Having travelled south a couple of weeks back to order the bike, we have today been down to Ormskirk to pick it up. And Paul is, shall we say, quite excited by it. The new addition to our bike family is shiny and black, and rather sexy (those who understand will know what I mean!). It's only a shame that it is his bike and not mine! Of course, all this puts great pressure on him now to perform - it will be interesting to see who gets to the top of the Superbagneres climb first next spring.

November 22nd: Fair weather cycling

There is something incredibly dispiriting about looking out of the bedroom window on a Sunday morning to see grey skies, fast moving clouds and the rain scudding off the driveway. Not the ideal cycling weather. So, do we stay in bed and get another 60 minutes of rest, or do we say "stuff that, game on!" Of course any true cyclist worth their salt will know there is only one answer to that question. And so we found ourselves gathering on the edge of Carlisle, 10 hardy souls ready for whatever the day may throw at us. Which, as it turned out, was quite a lot.

In a week which has seen unprecedented bad weather in the area which in turn has resulted in tragic loss of life, it makes me realise how fortunate we are at times. And that we should take every opportunity to enjoy life to the full. As a concession to the bad weather we did agree that a shorter ride would be ok, and we headed south, into the wind and rain, bound for the cafe stop at Stainton, near Penrith. Puddles lined the roads, and in places, filled the roads. Occasionally, the rain relented and we even caught sight of some blue sky (though that might have been a mirage, I'm not sure). Our group of 10 pottered along, happy enough, sharing the adversity. And come Stainton we were all ready for the soup/baked potato/pasta options. Thus replenished we made our exit as the skies opened and the rain came down, as if on cue. Now, though, we had a tailwind and the pace picked up. Suddenly the peloton was spinning along at 25-27mph, the rain now lashing down, the wheels humming in symphony with each other. It was fun. And as we turned up the long drag to the Crown Inn George powered off the front, doing his Jan Ullrich thing. Dan and I decided to give chase, reeled him in, sat on and then I delivered the sucker punch and took the mountain points. Quite childish, really. Now it was downhill all the way, more blue sky, more rain, more wind but none of it lowering our spirits. This is what Sunday rides are all about. Enjoyment, camaraderie and cleaning the bike when you get home!

November 18th

I don't know about you but I am finding a bewildering amount of contradictory advice out there about how to go about winter training. There seem to be those camps which suggest a complete backing off, just concentrating on base miles and low intensity. Others suggest that now is the time to bang in the sessions of short period, intense training. And equally there are offerings which suggest something in between. Confused? Well, I am. What I do know is that it would be nice to go into next season able to say I am making progress over this year. In racing terms, that means not getting spat out of the back of the group when we hit that first hill, even perhaps seeing the winning riders as they cross the finish line - optimistic, maybe, but as I say, it would be nice. And for the sportives I would relish being able to attack those hills a bit more comfortably. The Etape looms (watch this space) and the prospect of the Marie Blanque, the Soulor and the Tourmalet is a real toughie. I know I can ride them, but it would be nice to place well in the top half of the event. And time trialling must benefit if I can achieve the above. I still harbour hopes of breaking the magic 24 minute barrier for a ten (I know, it's not especially fast, but it would be good for me).

But how to go about it? Do I stick to endurance rides through the winter, staying in "Zone 1"? One school of thought suggests that this way mediocrity lies. Or do I go for the short, sharp shock treatment and risk a real burnout when it comes to the spring? Well, I think that I am going to hedge my bets a bit here and try something somewhere in the middle. It will be interesting to see how it pans out, and may yet go horribly wrong. Time will tell. The idea is to go back to basics and do some gym work to build leg strength. twice-weekly sessions geared to developing leg power is what I am after here. The remit for my gym meister is exactly what I said above - ie not getting dropped on the first hill in the first road race. And being able to bang out a bigger gear, lower cadence on the long hills to enable me to climb more efficiently. I am also looking at my weight quite carefully, trying to optimise my power-weight ratio (Bradley Wiggins is the inspiration here, of course after his heroics during the 2009 Tour). On top of that a programme of weekly spinning sessions backed up by some torture on the turbo, though I shall restrict these to fairly short sessions of maybe 30-40 minutes. And in between, some long(ish) club rides and the like to act as recovery (back to that bizarrely named Zone 1 again) and enjoy the social banetr of the club bonhomie. And it all starts tomorrow. No, really!

November 1st: Beastly Exmoor

As we move into the twilight of 2009 the curtain came down on a long and hectic season with the Exmoor Beast, a challenging sounding ride on the wild roads of Exmoor. In the run up to this I have found the opportunities to ride much reduced as the evenings draw in and winter time takes over. I invested in a powerful front light to let me join those mad bikers who go out by night, and last Tuesday I enjoyed my first such nocturnal outing. And good fun it was too. The light pumps out a massive 670 lumens (no, I don't really understand it either but its bloody bright and you can see the potholes before rather than after you ride through them).

The decision to ride the Beast meant a chance to ride again with Simon, whom Paul and I had met in the Pyrenees back in May. He lives on the fringes of the moor and knows the terrain. As the weekend came nearer we found ourselves glued to increasingly depressing weather forecasts which suggested a tough ride to say the least. Come 6am on Sunday morning the rain had arrived and the wind was whipping up as I drove the winding roads to Minehead Butlins, HQ for the event. As I parked on the seafront with my car being shaken by the gales coming off the sea, I was heartened to hear the news that the event was delayed an hour as the weather was showing no signs of improving. Rumour also had it that the 100 mile option, which Simon and I had opted for, was also off the menu.

I met up with Simon and we readied ourselves, though the choice of gear was tricky. It wasn't cold - just very wet and VERY windy. Finally at 8 the first riders (of the 1700 or so entrants) were away and Simon and I got ourselves into the queue. As we rode out onto the seafront boulevard the heavens opened afresh - within minutes we were drenched. Oh, the joys of sportive riding.

The 100 mile option had indeed been commuted and we soon found ourselves more than happy with this decision. The wind meant that progress was very hard, indeed the first half of the course was battling into a severe headwind, gusting at over 60mph at times. Add to this the road surface which was at times treacherous with fallen leaves (I see where British Rail are coming from now!) And you have a recipe for an interesting day. The first big climb of the day, up through woodland on a 20% slope, saw riders slipping and falling left, right and centre. I confess I opted for safety ahead of bravado and walked the steeper section of the climb rather than join the fallen. As a trudged through the leaves Mountain Goat Kev came steaming past me - he was riding the 100k option and was aiming for a time, his 4 hours 27 turned out to be an excellent effort.

Simon and I regrouped at the top and headed on. The next climb was open to the elements, so no leaves, just the wind to contend with. Now riders were being literally blown off their bikes and again I felt no shame in opting for safety first. Seeing a rider swept off the road right in front of me confirmed the wisdom of my decision.The morning wore on, the wind battering us into submission, the occasional downpour re-drenching us. Finally we approached the steep descent of Countisbury Hill down to Lynmouth and a chance to take a break as Simon emptied the 3 pints of water from inside his waterproof socks!

What followed was the highlight of the day, the climb up the Lyn valley onto the moors heading south to Simonsbath. This was delightful - sheltered, dry(ish) and wonderfully graded. The autumn colours were muted, but the wooded valley offered a welcome respite for 20 minutes or so. At Simonsbath we stopped at the first feed, a chaotic affair with riders queuing for food and water. As the 100 mile option was off the agenda, we now turned east with the wind finally behind us. The next 15 miles or so was delightful as we rode for free. The occasional shower didn't dampen our mood, though a couple of climbs sapped the legs. The skies lightened too and it seemed to us that the sun was making a belated attempt to break through. The miles ticked by and we could begin to sense an end to this gruelling ride. A long, steep descent from the moor was tricky with still slippery roads and some tight corners, and then it was a long fast run down to Dunster before a little sting - a nasty little climb to avoid the main road. Oh, how the legs complained. We passed one poor rider stretched out on the road with cramp as we crested the climb. Then it was down into Minehead, one last headwind and there was the finish line in Butlins, bizarrely actually inside a building. That's the first time I've ridden indoors to cross the finish line. To rub salt into the wound the last 3 or 4 miles were ridden in glorious sunshine. How cruel.

Battered, spattered with mud, tired, but strangely elated, we had finished the Beast. A time of 5 hours 26 was nothing special - probably the slowest sportive I have ridden, but we finished midfield which in itself tells the story. It had, indeed, been an epic.

October 19th: Not the Cat & Fiddle again (part 73)!

Well, yes, it is. A hastily arranged trip south saw Pete and I once again on the road to the Cat & Fiddle on a Sunday morning. I think that must be the 125th time this year, or something approaching it. I know, I can't stay away. Time, too, to test out my new Aero 420 wheels on a revitalised Dolan - and I have to say they are pretty stunning wheels. The weather was just about ideal, after a fresh light frost the sun was breaking through as we headed up out of Macclesfield passing a number of local club cyclists on the way. We had a tight time window though and the real aim of the morning was the climb from the Goyt Valley, so we didn't hang about, flying on down to Buxton - the winter jacket came in handy here as the temperature was not that great. From Buxton there is the short drag up Long Hill (a cat 4 at best) and then the steep drop to the reservoir and the start of the climb. Here the sun and the autumn colours combined to make it a glorious climb, to be savoured. The camera was working overtime and scarcely did it justice. Even Pete enjoyed it - and he had declared his intention to be grumpy before we headed out! The final descent into Macclesfield gave me the chance to enjoy the new wheels as they cruised round the sweeping bends. Not a long ride, just over 30 miles in total. But if you have a couple of hours to spare and are in the area I can thoroughly recommend this route - you won't be disappointed.

October 14th

Autumn can a wonderful time to ride the bike. There isn't the oppressive heat which can overwhelm during the summer, and the excessive cold and damp of winter hasn't yet arrived. And on top of that the colours are pure inspiration. Sunday's reliability ride set the tone with a (relatively) fine day - well, it was dry at least - and a route which took us over some pretty tough, hilly terrain into Borders country. Rather than be drawn into the hectic pace of the quicker groups I opted for the steady "4 hour" group,aiming at about 14mph average. Nice. And given the state of some riders at the finish who were trying to hang on to the ever-quickening bunch, I think it was the right option. Lovely day out, and thoroughly enjoyable ride.

Then today Cal and I opted for a steady fat-burning ride out into the Lakes. Not the most amazing weather with drizzle and low cloud, but beautiful autumn colours and almost ideal cycling conditions - not too hot, no wind. We headed south down to Ullswater and Pooley Bridge before climbing over to Askham and up to the remote reaches of Haweswater. The colours were stunning, and on quiet country roads with just the odd tourist for company, it made for a great ride out. The sting in the tail was the 12% kilometer climb from Swindale up toward Shap, made more difficult by the greasy road surface in the drizzle. The old heartrate was rising a little there. From Shap though it is downhill all the way back to Penrith and a chance for recovery and reflection. Just 45 miles, but such a good ride.

October 7th

The nights are drawing in, the weather is turning cooler once again and we can see winter closing fast on the horizon. For cyclists this can be a depressing time of year. But there's still plenty left yet, not quite time to pack the bike away and light the log burner for the winter.

Take this last week for example. Sunday was the annual Cat & Fiddle Challenge, a great day out for all involved. This is a charity ride first and foremost and attracts a big field - some 1300 riders this year. The event is not timed, there is no line to cross at start or finish. Riders face a challenging loop north out of Stoke via Macclesfield and over the Cat & Fiddle to Buxton before returning over Axe Edge and Leek. 55 miles of leg-breaking riding. Four of us travelled down to take on the Cat - myself, Alpine Kev, young Graham and Downhill Dave. For Dave and Graham the Cat was going to be a new experience, whilst Kev and I were old hands. The weather proved to be a real mixed bag but was decidedly better than last year as the rain didn't start until we were on the main climb. Approaching Macclesfield there was a palpable air of expectancy and apprehension amongst riders. Novices asked what it was like, how long was it, was it steep. "It" needs no name, we all knew what they were talking about. As we hit the bottom of the climb Graham decided to brush off a few cobwebs and sped away, the rest of us took it more steadily. As readers of this blog will know, I do love this climb. Today was no exception, even in the drizzle and cold. Apart from a brief stop to don waterproof top, I plugged away and slowly the top came closer. No records today, and we regrouped at the summit, just as Sean Kelly (previous winner of the Vuelta Espana) rolled in, resplendent in green. The man is a legend and it is testimony to this ride that he mixes it with all and sundry. It is a salutory thought that we actually beat the great man to the top of the Cat & Fiddle - one to tell the grandchildren! A short descent into Buxton and a sharp right turn took us on to Axe Edge, a much shorter climb but still challenging enough. It was here that the official photographer chose to station himself, grabbing that shot of suffering for so many riders. I do wonder why they choose these places to take their photos, I'm really not sure that a look of pain is really that edifying for most people. The two big climbs over, it would be easy to think it was easy hereon in. Wrong. The ride has a series of short but sharp climbs to test the legs and by the finish you know you've had a good workout. Back at the HQ in Burslem the bunfight was a jolly affair, with plenty to talk about. All in all, a great day out.

As for the coming weeks, there is still plenty to do. This weekend is the club's end of season Reliability Ride, always a good social (see the Border City club website for details), then on November 1st, for some bizarre reason, I have entered the Exmoor Beast. Seemed like a good idea at the time! Actually, an opportunity to ride 100 miles in a part of the country I don't know very well is always exciting. Let's hope we don't enjoy the typical seasonal weather and actually get some sunshine for a change.

September 27th. Mechanical woes

The season is drawing to a close now, and it has been pretty good to relax over the last couple of weeks and just do a couple of quiet rides. Sadly, somewhere along the way the Dolan has suffered some mechanical damage to the rear mech which culminated in a jammed chain and a very gentle ride home the other day, nursing the gears over the hills. Time for that long-awaited 500 mile service I think - and I've only done 3500 miles! All this means that I have dusted down the winter bike, cleaned it up and today the Giant got an outing for the first time since the Spring. Wow, it's so heavy! A lovely ride down into the Lakes with the guys from the club rewarded us with some great views of Ullswater and some incredible choclate cake at the cafe stop - ideal winter fare? Next week we are heading south to join in the fun on the Cat & Fiddle Challenge, a terrific charity ride now into it's umpteenth year, Should be a great day out.

September 12th. Picardy Gold

The annual pilgrimage to northern France by Border City riders is now legend. In spite of the rigours of a coach journey which begins at 3.30am in a derelict car park in Carlisle and finishes some 12 hours later in a derelict car park in the small Picardy town of Abbeville, we were raring to go as we joined the start line at 7.30 on Saturday morning. Yet again the day was dry, though a fresh NE wind threatened a good time. French sportives are quite unlike any British fare - mass start, huge pelotons, and closed roads make them a real buzz. La Ronde Picarde is no different, 117 miles of truly French epreuve. And here we were amongst some 1200 riders and, at 8.10, the flag went down and we crossed the start line, ready for another epic. The start is always fast, but this year seemed especially so. A tail wind meant that we were rolling along the first five miles at 30mph, scarcely believable and certainly not sensible. The first hill brought things under control and after that it settled down. The big groups formed, I missed a good break and ended up in a 40-strong peloton rolling through the winding rural roads which line the Somme valley, headed for the coast. The rolling terrain threatens to break the groups up, but the stronger riders always seem to get back together, and I was managing to do the same which boded well. Some 25 miles in our group suffered a big crash, a touch of wheels a few riders in front of me and down they went. "Chute, chute" went up the cry, and we picked our way through the carnage and carried on. Sportive riding can be pretty heartless sometimes.

Some 50 miles in, the course hits the coast at Ault and turns north-east. Aaagh. The headwind was so harsh and caused large echelons to form and suddenly, a moment's lapse of concentration, and I missed the break as our group split. Big error. I tried valiantly to get back to them but after a few miles gave up - too much effort would be wasted. Instead I needed the group behind to knit together but just as we reached the feed where I rode straight through they stopped. Typical. I was on my own now and needed some help. I managed to get together with a couple of riders and gradually we formed a larger group and our momentum against the wind was maintained. The clock was ticking though, and few of the riders could or would help me maintain the pace I wanted as I aimed for 6 hours. I often rode off the front and just kept going. This pattern was repeated for the next 40 miles until we finally turned again and got a tail wind. Tired now, there were just 20 miles to go and I could just about make my gold time if I kept going. The company of a half-ironman triathlete for a few miles helped immensely and, eventually we came into the finish village, round the last corner and sprinted across the line. 6 hours and 5 minutes 25 on the computer. Gold award. YESS!!

The weather was dry but the wind made life difficult and many of our guys reported times well down on last year, so I have to be pleased with my efforts,even if it was a tad slower than last year. A few new faces enjoyed their first taste of this event and I suspect many will be back next year.

September 6th. The Cumberland Challenge

The season draws towards its conclusion and Border City Wheelers brings the curtain down with our very own sportive, a challenging 109 miler through pretty inhospitable cycling terrain of the north Pennines and Scottish borders. Tough? Definitely. Challenging? Yes. But, unlike some other well known sportives, the aim is not to be THE hardest, THE toughest, THE hilliest. Anyone of reasonable cycling fitness can, and probably should, ride the Challenge. For some it is about finishing, for others it is about challenging the clock. And, like all these events, it brings its own tales of heroism and tragedy. For the full story of this year's challenge follow the link on the left.

August 30th. Penrith Triathlon: the showdown!

Triathlon is a bit of a diversion from the usual cycling events we find ourselves doing, a bit of fun. Having said that. it's still something to be taken seriously. But enjoyment is definitely part of the deal. This is the second running of this event, and a full field of some 180 athletes were expected to line up. The added spice for me was the anticipated duel with Kev, the Gibbonator. Speculation ahead of the day led us to the conclusion that it would be close. His swimming is on a par with my running, ie not too hot. Calculations using a detailed mental spreadsheet meant that it would probably come down to the bike and transition. The stage was set for the Supervet Showdown. Kev had the dubious advantage of an early start based on his slower swim time, by the time I went in the water he would be well into the bike leg. He would then have the luxury of sitting at the finish watching me suffer during the run.

Fine weather was an added bonus (well, it was dry and not too warm). The swim was all rather hectic with 6 to a lane, with precious seconds being lost trying to pass slower swimmers, but pretty soon I was out in transition and then it was the bike leg. 15 miles, the first half being fast and misleading since the second half leaps up and bites you. Sharply. The first hill is steep but mercifully short, then the long, long drag wears you down. Trying to keep the pace up is so hard, all the while keeping something back for the run. The run into Penrith is fast but technical as riders negotiate a housing estate and a couple of busy road junctions, well marshalled and policed to keep it safe. Transition again, nice and quick, then out onto the run. 5km always seems such a long way. But I felt good and kept a pace and before too long the finish line was in view. To call my finish a sprint is probably in contravention of the trades description act, but I managed a spurt to cross the line. Wow.

Now came the long wait. I tracked down Kev and we traded blow-by-blow accounts of the race. Finally the time came for presentation (which didn't involve us) and posting of the times. The moment we (and everyone else) were waiting for. A quick scan brought a gasp. Our calculations were uncannily correct. It was close. SO close. It came down to 9 seconds. A mere 9 seconds separated us. And Kev had it. I had been Gibbonated!! Kev takes the mantle of top Supervet - for now!

For the record, the time was 1 hour 23 minutes and 42 seconds (against Kev's 33 seconds) and we finished 35th and 36th respectively. No details of our category ranking (over 50s) is to hand sadly. But what a great event, good fun and just competitive enough to make it interesting. Next year mate...

(Photos courtesy Emma Felton © 2009)

August 27th. The Race (part 3)

I am sure that somewhere along the way I will learn. The Thursday evening race training sessions have gathered apace through the summer and many of the lads have managed some respectable race performances as the summer has progressed. Having suffered so ignominiously in the Calthwaite race in June I have had precious few opportunities to set the record straight. Until now. Wednesday night saw another local TLI event, again up at Brydekirk. And you know how the memory plays tricks on you - it couldn't have been THAT bad, surely. So I rolled up in the queue to sign on with a bunch of hopeful Border City teammates. It was noticeable that they were all in the 'younger' age bracket, the first group away in the usual Australian Pursuit format would contain a single BCW representative - me! The guys were plotting strategy and tactics - mine were quite simple really. Survive. And if - no, when - we were swept up by the main group try and hang in there as long as possible. Oh, and not finish last. Two 11 mile laps to survive. Easy.

Our 'slow' group were set off with an unknown (to us) handicap and quickly split as about 8 of us got away on the first drag. Well, truth be told, I was off the back too, but got back on on a fast descent before the main climb on the lap only to be unceremoniously cast aside again as the group rocketed up the hill. Again I managed to rejoin, but by then a trio of stronger riders had gone away at the front. We were now a select group of 4, and we needed to work together to keep our advantage - hoping the front three had blown their powder kegs too early. As the lap unfolded it was clear that only 3 of us were really working, but we seemed to be able to keep it together. By now I was plotting how I would get away before the finish. I favoured a lone break on the far side of the lap before the turn to the finish and trust in my time trial skills to keep them at bay.

As the second lap unfolded this was blown out of the water. Shortly after the second time up the main climb the big group swept us up. I slotted in as best I could, but my 3 co-conspirators were gone, out of the back. This was my chance, if I could hang in there. Some hopes. I have a definite disadvantage when it comes to racing in the bunch. I climb like a snail, and the next drag saw me shelled out the back before I could say 'peloton'. But I had an advantage over the other 3 and wasn't going to give it away. I could yet finish 4th of the 'slow' group. Not a startling ambition perhaps, modest even. But something to aim for. I settled into time trial mode and pushed the last 6 miles or so towards the finish. Don't look back, just ride hard. As I came to the last corner I glanced back. I was alone, no chance of being caught now. I relaxed and swept across the line - some way down on the main field but ahead of the stragglers. As it happened one of the trio who broke away early had punctured, elevating me to an unlikely 3rd place in the also rans. Maybe not a prize-winning ride, but part of my learning curve. Hey, I could have given up. Or finished last. But I didn't. AND we placed 3 guys in the top 10, including the first two. Not a bad night, really.

Shortly after crossing the finish line I punctured. How lucky was that?

August 24th

Mountain biking has been back on the agenda this weekend, as the rain came down big time. The road bike is not such a fun proposition when the clouds open, and I spent 2 hours cleaning and retuning the Dolan on Friday evening, so when Kev and Chris suggested a bit of MTB fun on the new Quercus Trail at Whinlatter I was happy to join them.The Quercus Trail is not quite so technically challenging as the Altura, but is great fun. It twists and turns, has some fast forest sections and, in the wet conditions, was still pretty challenging for us. Suffice to say we enjoyed an hour and a half of off-road trail riding at the end of which we were all in severe need of a shower and clean bikes!

August 20th

It's nice to be back into some sort of routine after the excitement of the last few weeks. Paul and I now have our entry to the Club des Cingles officially recognised - we are numbers 2739 and 2740, and are listed on the website which is rather nice! Last Sunday was an opportunity to join the club run, all too rare for me in the summer months. And good fun it was too, a 60 mile social with good craic and some little competitive hill sprints just to get the heartrate going - thanks George!!. The harsh headwind for the first 20 miles made life tough, but we are all so much stronger now than a couple of years ago and it doesn't seem to batter us as it used to. We 'enjoyed' the club 10 time trial last night, not a good night for testing with rain and wind. But satisfying nevertheless. Then today, after a 50 mile leg stretcher this afternoon with Cal and Mike, it was back to the serious stuff this evening with a hard race training session, full of intense hill reps. Wow, the legs were burning after that. All this comes ahead of the TLI race up at Brydekirk next week, hopefully the Wheelers will dominate the field as plenty of the boys are planning on going. Should be fun. All this is setting up the end of season nicely, the Cumberland Challenge is now only a fortnight away, and then it's Picardy the week after. This really is turning out to be a fun year. And to top it all (and I'm not really sure why) I have just signed up to ride the Exmoor Beast on November 1st. New road, new countryside - just a long way to go for a bike ride. Ah well.

August 10th. Ventoux Three

This last week has been pretty tiring - now there's an understatement if ever I made one. Sunday last (Aug 2) Paul and I rode the Pendle Pedal sportive in Lancashire. Enjoyable ride, with the usual impeccable organisation (even if they had moved the feed!). Then it was in the car and a small matter of 1100 miles south (with an overnight stop in Surrey) to Provence. Come Monday evening we were within sight of the Giant of Provence, the excitement building. On Tuesday last we opted for a warm-up ride(appropriate given the temperatures were knocking on 40 degrees C) and did a circuit of the Mont Ventoux, taking in some of the Etape route as we went. A good day, but no more than an aperitif before the big one. Wednesday, August 5th. A day to linger in the memory, we tackled the Cinglé, 3 ascents of the infamous mountain from Bedoin, Malaucene and Sault. For a full account of the ride click the link here...

Suffice to say the day was long, hot and VERY epic. 90 miles and 4500m of ascent is non-trivial in the extreme, but Paul and I made it eventually getting back down to Bedoin just before the sun set on a truly wonderful day. We are now Cinglés!!

Thursday we avoided the bikes and did the touristy type things that most normal people do, like visit vineyards. Friday and Saturday it was the return journey,a nother 1100 miles in the car, ideal preparation for our open hillclimb TT on Hartside on Sunday morning. Despite all this I recorded a PB though it was not enough to trouble the scorers. And now it is time to sit back and bask in the realisation of what we have done. And look forward to the next big ride, Picardy in about 5 weeks time. Can't wait!

July 27th. Vive le Tour!!

Wow, I am still breathless, after a whirlwind trip on Eurostar out to Paris to witness first hand the Manx Missile's comprehensive display on the Champs-Elysees. As a demonstration in how to set up and then deliver, Columbia and Mark Cavendish really couldn't have done any better. And it has been a tour of much interest, not least for us Brits with Wiggo producing such a stunning ride. The post-podium street party on the Champs-Elysees saw the Garmin boys letting their hair down. Good to see. Having seen the Paris climax to the Tour 3 times now, I have to say the crowds this time seemed to eclipse previous years, and when you saw the throng on Mont Ventoux it is clear that the Tour is comfortably the biggest sporting event on the planet.

Talking of the Ventoux, Paul and I are shortly about to head back to France for our very own adventure on the Giant of Provence. We are both getting pretty excited about it now, and the maps have been spread out on the kitchen table as we plan our assault on the ride. It is going to be both tough and fun (I hope).

The bike has been somewhat neglected since returning from the Alps, though I have managed a few time trials. This included a very satisfying 10 where I probably had my best ride for some 4 years and actually won a (surprising) prize in the M50 category. Dr Paul asked me if I was thinking of turning pro!! The following day I experienced the opposite emotions as I punctured during warm-up for a 25 and was unable to ride. On a day when I felt good this was so frustrating. Since then the weather has been less than kind, and there have been times when a canoe would have been more appropriate (notably tonight as the rain came down during a local 10 down at Keswick).

July 10th

I am pretty breathless at the moment, not least after our epic Alpine Raid trip last week, more of which will follow (keep an eye on the menu left). Suffice to say, it was enough to blow the mind (and legs) away. Scenery so stunning it took your breath away, and climbs that went on forever. But the best bit was the descents which are so fantastic. Going downhill for over 30 minutes doesn't get the least bit tedious, unless it's raining and you lose all feeling in your hands - that's not quite so much fun, but it only happened once. And to cap it all off by browsing round Monaco during Le Grand Depart as the Tour de France 2009 version got underway was a great way to end the trip. Perhaps the only sour note was the inconsistent attitude of the airport authorities who seem unable to decide whether carrying CO2 canisters is or is not permitted. Make your minds up guys, then at least we can plan accordingly. Back here in the UK, and after finally getting round to rebuilding the bike, it was time to test out the altitude-enhanced blood cells on our 11 mile time trial on Wednesday night. Soooo close to a personal best, I actually enjoyed it. Anyway, for anyone who is about to embark on the Etape du Tour which is just over a week away, best of luck with your final preparations and enjoy the ride. It will be an epic to remember I am sure.

June 21st

The Alps are less than a week away, and I have taken a conscious decision to ease back for the last few days before we fly out. Last Thursday evening's deluge on the new Tebay 10 time trial course is now a distant though still unpleasant memory. The road is so pan flat you almost can't fail to do a good ride - unless the weather throws the kitchen sink at you as it did for the 30 or so riders on Thursday evening. The only highlight was the glorious rainbow as the hail stopped and the rain relented. The weekend has been spent playing a bit of golf and then a leisurely ride out from Macclesfield in the direction of the Cat & Fiddle (again). On a coolish day with a very slightly favourable tailwind it seemed rude not to give it a blast, so I christened the new Dolan on the climb in a respectable (for me) 31' 33". The real highlight, though, was later in the day when, having descended east to Buxton and done some miles in the Derbyshire Dales, we returned via the beautifully scenic Goyt Valley and rode the climb up the Cat & Fiddle from there. It is glorious. I can't think of a nicer climb (no doubt someone will put me right on that count). I think the legs are ready for what the Alps have to throw at us. Bring it on!!

June 17th. The Race (part 2)

Foolishly, I had been coerced by fellow teammates to enter one of our own club's road races, the 40 mile Calthwaite Race, this evening. Talk about baptism by fire. What it boiled down to was an exercise in bloody mindedness! A full field of 60 riders featured no less than 15 of our own guys, resplendent in their red, green and yellow as we lined up for the start. Unlike the TLI race a couple of weeks back, this event was a full British Cycling race for cat 3 and 4 riders - I think I am probably about a cat 6, so not too much out of my depth there, then. As such I had a cunning plan which boiled down to staying with the bunch as long as possible, and then not being lapped by the time they fiinished. The appointed hour duly arrived and the commissaire's car headed off round the circuit, the riders following through the neutralised section (about 2 kilometers). The theory is that this is not actually ridden at race pace, in reality the bunch was not hanging about. It gave me a chance to get used to the pace of the bunch and find my position near the back - NOT the place to be. Once through the village the commissaire's flag went down and the race was on. Immediately, there was an attack and the speed noticeably quickened. To describe activity in the peloton as frenetic would be an understatement but it was comfortable as the bunch sped along at about 30mph. At one point I was getting dangerously close to the head of the bunch until the other riders realised the danger and nipped back in front of me. So far so good though. The bad news was that, after about 5 miles of this, the course did a sharp left and hit a nasty little climb of about a kilometer. This will forever be my nemesis. Through the corner the pace quickened and the bunch attacked the climb leaving me to try and hang on. No chance. It's probably true to say I have never ridden that hill as fast, and still the gap opened and I was dropped. How ignominious! My hope had been that others might suffer the same fate. It was not to be.

OK, I thought. Plan B comes into force. With only 34 miles of the race to go, I was faced with riding on my own now. Some might ask 'what was the point?' For me, this was all about finishing, and a matter of principal. I would not get caught. The trouble is, riding on your own is a) hard work, and b) soul destroying. I can, though, be bloody minded when I want to be. The first lap came and went, lap 2 unfolded and the skies darkened. Lap 3 was ridden in heavy rain and the temperature dropped appreciably. At the end of the third lap I was still ahead of the bunch, I hadn't been caught. Right, just one more bloody lap to go then. Neil, the race organiser, gave me the thumbs up as I rode past the finish line to start my final 10 miles. Now I was going to finish. I can give you no hint as to what actually happened in the bunch sprint at the end of the race, other than to report that, happily, it was won by one of our guys, Giles who seems to win a lot of races (the photo of the sprint above was brilliantly captured by award-winning photographer Emma Felton). As for me, I was fighting off the cramp from the cold, and trying to maintain my gradually slowing pace. The final ascent of that bloody hill seemed interminable, but at last I was over it and finally, after 2 hours of "racing" I rode across the finish line, the lanterne rouge. But I had finished. What an experience. The first 5 miles in the speeding bunch had been electric, the last 35 on my own had been an exercise in attrition. My only thought had been "Don't give up". For my efforts, Neil actually awarded me a special prize for the lanterne rouge, very gracious as I had kept everybody waiting. And somehow, made it all worthwhile. Right, time to get out and practise those hills.

June 14th

As the Alpine trip gets ever nearer, the cycling events keep piling up. After a weekend off last week, when the legs got a well earned rest, this last few days has been very full on. As well as the usual weekly club time trials to keep the legs ticking over, Saturday saw us heading over to the North East to ride the popular Northern Rock Cyclone sportive. This is a charity event and this year attracted some 2500 entries, making it huge. And fun. It was great to see so many cyclists there of all abilities. Kev and I had entered the mid-distance 100km route (my excuse was that I was doing a triathlon the next day), and the nice thing about these shorter distance events is that you can give them a bit of a blast! The weather was kind too, making it a glorious day out in the sun. Sadly a mechanical on Kev's bike lost us a bit of time, but we pootled round in a very respectable time, Kev rode away toward the finish to make up for lost time, I waited until the last 15 miles before letting rip. As we sat around outside the bar after, joined by numerous other BCW riders, the atmosphere felt rather pleasant and relaxed. Perhaps all sportives could be like this.

Sunday was a different kettle of fish, the Cockermouth Triathlon. This was a very different beast to the Keswick one of a few weeks back. For a start, a pool swim meant it wasn't going to be cold, or choppy. And the sun was shining (again) and it was warm. Altogether much more fun. Cockermouth is a "sprint" tri, with 500m swim, 20km bike and 5km run. Easy really, esepcially after a sportive the day before to warm up. A huge entry of 180 meant a long delay before I finally got into the water, over 2hours after the first competitors. The sunshine meant that hanging around transition enjoying the specatcle was not too arduous. A PB on the swim leg was followed by a very ordinary bike leg, hindered by some unhelpful headwinds (aren't they always?), and then (by my standards) an extraordinary run, again a PB. Total time of just over 75 minutes was a bit better than last time out, in September, and was, rather surprisingly, good enough to place me 2nd in the Male Supervet class - and NOT out of 2 I should add. I was well and truly gobsmacked, after all I never win anything. Sadly, I hadn't waited around for the presentation as I never win at these events. That'll teach me!!

June 3rd. The Race

The klaxon sounded, we were off. My introduction to road racing was underway. We were the second group on the road, about 15 strong, in an Australian Pursuit road race. The over 60 riders had been given a 5 minute advantage, then us 50 somethings were let loose. Ahead lay 33 miles in the form of 3 11-mile laps of an undulating course, roughly square. Behind us would be yet another chasing pack of over 40s, then the young whipper snappers would be let off their leash. Welcome to TLI racing.

The League International offer a good route into road racing for novices such as myself. The atmosphere is relaxed and informal, a day licence is required, and some experience of riding in fast groups is definitely useful. All that Thursday race training was now coming in handy. Here in Brydekirk in southern Scotland, we were mixing it with a varied bunch of riders, my aim being to stay with them as long as possible before getting spat out and, hopefully, not to finish last. Our bunch set off at a pretty furious pace, and the chaingang was soon rolling nicely up the long drag. Then came the fast descent to a sharp left hand corner straight into the main climb on the circuit. Of course, being inexperienced, my approach here was naive and I kept near the back, out of trouble. Bad move. Into the corner I was close to the back of our bunch and the sudden kick up the hill left me struggling to stay in touch. You live and learn. It was all I could do to stay vaguely in touch as we crested the top of the climb and, fortunately, I managed to get back on during the ensuing descent. Mental note: be at the front at the start of the climb.

More undulating rolling roads and the group continued to work together, most riders were still in there, including Kev, my fellow Border City teammate, and the pace was still high. This was hard though, and I wondered how long I would be able to keep it up. Surely the pace couldn't be sustained. Another left hander took us into the long back straight, about 5 miles, into a stiffish headwind. And more drags. The legs were beginning to complain now and I missed a couple of turns as we climbed. Gradually the gradient eased and then there was a long gentle descent, the pace picking up again. Here I was comfortable once more, then it was into the last left hadner and the final pull to the finish/start line. One lap down. 11 miles at not far short of 25 mph.

As we started the second lap the pace eased significantly, a bit of recovery. Kev and another rider seized the opportunity and started to open a gap and before you knew it they were away. The remainder of the bunch started to give chase, but it was beginning to splinter now. On the fast descent to the sharp corner I jumped to the front and led through the corner onto the climb. This was better, now I had a chance of still being in the mix at the top. Here the shake-up was more clinical and by the time we regrouped at the top we were down to about 6 or 7 riders, still giving chase to Kev and his fellow escapee. My legs were now screaming after the effort on the climb and it took me a while to recover. No matter, I was hardly going to help too much to chase down my own teammate, after all.

As we approached the second sharp corner, it became apparent that the next bunch was gaining ground on us, the lead car sounding its horn. Into the long windy back straight the catch was made and the pace upped again, now I was really struggling and before long I was, finally spat out of the peloton. One and a half laps, not bad I guess. For a while I entertained some hopes of regaining the group, but the draggy climb put paid to that and I watched helplessly as they rode steadily away from me. Sad. Now I was on my own, change of tactics required. I changed to time trial mode, determined to try and keep the next bunch of riders at bay as long as possible. Up front, hopefully Kev would stay away, at least a while.

It wasn't long before the fast boys came through, three of them, including our very own Giles. I clung to a wheel for a kilometer or so, but the pace was too high and I was on my own again. Two laps down, one to go. I was going to finish, so on I pressed. This was all about survival and honour now. The third lap rolled by, my pace visibly slower on my own. Half way round I was caught by a pair of riders and worked with them for a couple of miles, but again the draggy climbs did for me. Now it was just a question of keeping my head down and getting to the finish - and not being last (if I wasn't already).

At last the final turn, and the last mile or so, with a cruel drag up to the finish line. I looked back, but no riders were in sight and my "sprint" to the line was somewhat tired. And then I was there, finished, the race was over. And I wasn't last. Giles took the honours, Kev rode strongly before being swallowed up by the large group but he still hung in there. And the mind was buzzing with the intensity of it all. So much to think over, so much to learn from. And so much more training still required. Will I do it again. Oh yes!

May 30th. Edinburgh Nocturne

Excitement returned to the streets of Edinburgh as the city hosted the first of a series of UK Nocturnes through the summer of 2009. Reminiscent of the old street circuit races from years ago, the evening featured a series of events for all comers on a tight 1.2km circuit in the Grassmarket, including a wicked 400m cobbled climb. The atmosphere surrounding the event was brilliant, with big crowds lining the course, especially on the climb where the intimacy of the location was amazing. The pain etched on riders faces was plain for all to see, the shouts of encouragement coming from the crowd driving them on. The evening's main event was the elite crit, an hour long race with a host of prominent names from the UK racing scene. The Downing brothers, Malcolm Elliot, Kristian House, Rob Hayles and Ed Clancy to name but a few. Also riding were David Millar and Cameron Meyer from Garmin, fresh from their exploits in the Giro. They clearly had a plan and rode brilliantly as a team with Mr Millar running out the eventual winner following a blistering attack over the final few laps. It was electric to watch. If you get the chance to see one of these events near you then do go along. Best of all, they are free!!

May 27th. Pyrenean Revolutions

Much as cycling in the UK is enjoyable, there is something special about cycling on the continent. Ahead of our Alpine traverse which is now only 4 weeks away, I have just been over to the Pyrenees with Paul to get some serious training in. The legs are now suitably pulverised and familiar with the task of riding up seriously long hills for the neck end of 2 hours, so job done. The weather was mixed, the sunblock finally got an outing and Paul and I enjoyed some gentle rivalry when it came to the King of the Mountains competition. You can read a detailed account (with photos) by clicking Pyrenean Climbs. 5 months into the year the cycling is getting more serious now, but this weekend is a bit of a break as I am heading up to Edinburgh to enjoy the first of the inner-city Nocturne Series. Should be great fun.

May 16th. Keswick Mountain Triathlon

There are times in life when getting out of your comfort zone and facing a challenge is really rewarding. Today's efforts in the Keswick Mountain Triathlon definitely meet that criterion. This is a real tester. Looking at the hardened triathletes lining up at the start it became clear that this open-water triathlon lark is a whole different ball game. And the water was still far too cold for my comfort zone (11 degrees according to official reports). At least the sun was making some half-hearted attempts to join us as we stumbled into the water at the Lakeside jetties. My fears about the swim were soon realised as the hooter went and the water suddenly turned to foam. 150 manic triathletes hell bent on reaching the first buoy made the water choppier than a force 9 gale. And the cold! The wetsuit was fine but the water freezes your face and makes breathing so difficult. Halfway across my thoughts were turning towards eBay and how much I might get for my wetsuit. In the end I resorted to backstroke - faster, more efficient, and easier to breathe. By the time I finally left the water and stumbled up toward transition I was near the back of the field. Worse, my hands were so numb that removing the wetsuit, so easy in the comfort of your own living room, became a logistical nightmare. Fortunately, transition was a good 200 metres from the water so I just about managed to free myself in time. Now for the bike. Oh, how much more enjoyable this was. Slight drizzle, but warm after the water. The first couple of miles took us up a not inconsiderable hill and I held back with the thought of the run to come, watching as several athletes passed me. I hope they enjoyed their moment, after the hill no one passed me on the rest of the ride (remember, I was near the back of the field). At around 24 miles with much uppy-downy, it is a tough bike (in my humble opinion) but enjoyable. And the crowds along the route cheering and cajoling spur you on to greater things. A gel as we neared the finish would set me up for the run, and suddenly we were in transition again. Getting off the bike my legs cramped. Not a good sign, always a real difficulty for me in triathlon. I grabbed a banana, a quick slurp from the bottle, then it was off in the drizzle, through the huge crowds and out along Derwentwater bound for an hour of tough fell running. Fighting the cramps and the gradient up past Ashness Bridge and onto Walla Crag, everything seemed so slow. Mud and drizzle made the surface slippery underfoot, but the views were good and the stream of athletes all around lent incentives to keep going. At last, we were heading downhill again, back into Keswick, crowds cheering again and, finally, the finish was in sight. Not much left for a sprint, but tradition dictates at least some sort of effort and then it was across the line. Exhaustion takes hold, coupled with elation and relief. That was hard, very hard. Voices call out, familiar faces come across to see how you got on. Time to swap stories. And the most stupid question gets asked again and again. "Did you enjoy that?" The answer is NO. But the inner satisfaction is very strong. Whether it is strong enough to do it all again next year who knows. In the overall scheme of things my finish time of just under 2 hours 50 puts me well down the field. But with a target of 3 hours I am well chuffed, and as a Vet50 my position in category of 12th is a respectable return. And as you look around, despite the suffering and hardship there are so many smiles on competitors faces. Yeah, quite an event.

May 9th. Bealach Beag sportive

The Bealach Beag sportive is definitely not for the fainthearted. At a mere 45 miles it sounds pretty straightforward. Don't be fooled by that. With some 1500m of ascent it is anything but, and factor in a HUGE climb, the Bealach na Ba, which rises from sea level to over 2000 feet all too quickly, plus the fact that the second half of the ride is relentlessly leg-sapping, and you have an event worthy of some respect. Add to that a mere 750 mile round trip just to get there and it takes on epic proportions. Paul and I were up for it, though, and joined the 500 or so riders in Shieldaig on Saturday morning, ready for anything. Good job we were. The weather was the first problem. Rain, wind, possible snow? What to wear? In the end we opted for full winter gear, good choice. As we set off to the sounds of a bagpiping cyclist (bizarre or what?) the rain eased down. Pretty soon it had turned to hail as we tackled the first climb over to Tornapress and the foot of the Bealach itself. Oh, and a mighty headwind to boot. The main climb is timed, so each rider gets to know just how well (or otherwise) they are going. With headwinds, rain and cold it was unlikely to be a day for record times. Fortunately, unlike the previous 2 years, the cloud base was high and we did at least get some views. Then the snow started!! I just had to laugh. This part of the ride is on closed roads, which makes it all the more enjoyable (if that's the right word). Seeing the road ahead and behind chocabloc with cyclists is quite a sight. As the road steepens into the upper reaches of the valley many opted to walk, the gradient being too much. Those of us made of sterner stuff (or just plain mad) strained and stretched our way to the top of the climb still on the bike, just! A brief stop to get dibbed, our times now recorded, now for the descent into Applecross. From here the route takes us round the scenic Applecross peninsula on roads which get increasingly wearing as the short sharp climbs grind you down. And there is always one more. By now the sun had reappeared and by the finish full winter gear was a bit on the warm side. An hour after the finish the hail and rain had returned, it was that kind of day. And for the record, Paul managed a respectable 44 minutes for the climb, my time of 48'52 being a tad disappointing compared to last year, but tempered by the weather. At least I had the satisfaction of beating him on the overall.

All this is a precursor to the daunting Keswick tri which is only a week away. Tapering will be the order of the day ahead of the big day. Apart from a 22 mile open hilly time trail on Wednesday, that is, coincidentally pretty similar to the bike part of the triathlon. Definitely no open water swimming though, I think I know all I need to know, ie it will be bloody cold.

Postscript: In the afternoon Paul and I drove to the top of the climb with the video camera. Whilst we waited for the rain and cloud to clear a sorry looking figure with a fully laden bike appeared in the gloom having climbed from Applecross. Paul and I got talking to him, turns out he was born in my home village. Small world. He was 500 miles into a John O'Groats to Lands End ride to raise money for Leukaemia Research. Having taken some photos and helped his cause, we cheered him on his way.

May 2nd. Drumlanrig

The Drumlanrig Challenge certainly rates as one of my favourite sportives (though truth be told I have a few). The atmosphere and location make it pretty special and the fact that Border City Wheelers more or less take it over lends a certain familiarity to the event which we all seem to enjoy. This year's sportive on May 2nd attracted some 300 riders from all over, of which about 30 were from our own club. It is, after all, a local derby! The sportive season is now well and truly upon us and this provides an early test of just how we are going come early May. The setting in the grounds of Drumlanrig Castle is spectacular and by 8.30 the field is awash with riders preparing their bikes, signing on and renewing acquaintances from last year. The organiser is very hands on and mingles with the riders, making the informality of the event even nicer. At 9 the first riders were away, we formed an elite peloton and were set off at 9.30, a wave of red and yellow snaking through the countryside bound for the Mennock Pass, the iconic climb of the first half of the ride. The first 10 miles or so were pretty full on until the group reached the bottom of the Mennock Pass climb at which point it all blew apart, the mountain goats jumping away up the long climb. At 11km with almost 400m of ascent through beautiful scenery it is a really lovely climb but survival is the name of the game. By the time I went over the top I had lost touch with the front riders and my vain hopes of catching them on the descent were cruelly exposed. Now it was about survival and trying to get together with other riders. After a few miles the route turns sharply west into the teeth of a relentless headwind at the same time as the road srts to drag back up to the top of the Dalveen Pass. This is such a harsh part of the ride and without company to share the suffering can be truly soul destroying. Part way across the moors I was swept up by a small but pretty fast group and for about 3 miles I managed to hang in with them, feeling all the while my legs being drained. If I carried on I would pay so much for this later so decided that, on balance, it was better to suffer alone now. To make it worse the long, almost alpine descent of the Dalveen Pass was into the same headwind which meant pedallng hard downhill, just not cricket! Back at Drumlanrig Castle the riders regrouped over the untimed lunch, 40 miles under their belt. We tucked into some splendid food (for which the organisers should be rightly praised) and shared horror stories of the headwind and the rocky road surfaces. Then, all too soon, it was time for part 2. Once again the Border City peloton set off through the country lanes, this time bound for Moniaive and the "mini Hard Knott". This is probably the worst climb of the day, 25% and a road surface which should be prosecuted under the trades description act. It was horrible, and my legs gave up the ghost, choosing to cramp pretty badly. Fortunately for me, some of the guys sat up and allowed myself and another fellow sufferer to get back on - just at the foot of the next climb (irony), but a judicious gel and some flapjack plus some fast spinning seemed to have loosened the legs suffiiently to get me up relatively unscathed. The afternoon weather helped the mood as the sun came out and the wind eased. All that remained was the final climb back up to the castle, and here Calum, Kev and I slugged it out (well, they slugged it out and I tried to keep them in sight). Turning into the castle grounds it was a 3-way fight for honours as I gained Cal's wheel but couldn't keep it on the last drag to the finish. Kev nicked past me too and I settled for a casual acknowledgement to the timekeepers as I crossed the line. 4 hours 42 minutes for the 80 or so miles, pretty satisfying if not earth-shattering. More importantly, it had been a cracking day all round - topped off by the news that Carlisle United had, by the skin of their teeth, avoided relegation. What else could we possibly want - other than beer and a curry, of course!

April 26th

Variety is the spice of life, they say. And to that end I seem to be mixing it up a bit with my cycling at the moment. Take this last week, for example. On Sunday it was a lovely day and we got in some 55 relatively easy miles, taking in the requisite cafe stop. Tuesday and Wednesday evening offered local time trials, which certainly improves the basic speed. Thursday evening saw our informal road-race training session enjoy a third week with riders practising amongst others things through-and-off riding. Numbers are increasing and the level of interest in road races seems high, perhaps on the back of British Cycling's amazing year in 2008. A few guys entered a local TLI road race in southern Scotland last Saturday, for many of them it was a first event, and all acquitted themselves well by all accounts. Also on Thursday I felt that, with the Keswick Mountain Triathlon only 3 weeks away, the time had come to don the wetsuit and take the plunge in a pretty cold Derwentwater. With water temperature a cool 10 degrees it fair takes the breath away, I must say. I also took time out to ride the time trial course, a hilly 23+ mile course which will be a real test on the day. As the rain came down and the wind buffeted my progress south of Keswick I decided this event is not going to be a cakewalk. After the luxury of a rest day on Friday (frankly I was knackered), Saturday allowed me the opportunity to squeeze in a 4 mile run (more practice for the triathlon). Then on Sunday it was time to dust off the mountain bike, fit some pedals and go and have a whizz round the Altura Trail in Whinlatter. Phew, what a week. All of this just goes to show that there are lots of different types of cycling you can get involved in, and there is no reason why you should restrict yourself to just one discipline. Try them all!

April 13th. Easter

I don't think I can remember such a glorious Easter weekend. Here in Cumbria the weather has just shouted "Get out on your bike". Easter Sunday was like high summer with wall-to-wall sunshine, no wind, and temperatures to boot. Shorts weather indeed! So, whilst a few mad fools from the club were taking part in the arduous Lakeland Loop, the usual Sunday crew rolled up on the outskirts of Carlisle, destination Brief Encounter at Langwathby (they do a mean spread of cakes!). Our peloton numbered 14, all in festive spirit, and before long we were rolling along the country lanes south of the Border City. The air was so clear that we were constantly distracted by the stunning views both of the Pennines to our left and the Lake District fells to our right. The occasional short sharp climb tested the willingness of the legs as some friendly attacks went off the front, but it all regrouped at the top and on we went. The Eden valley was delightful, few cars and lots of bouncing baby lambs in the fields. Before long we were spinning down into Langwathby and a welcome cuppa awaited. And soup (and how good it was too). And we sat outside. How good is this?

A vigorous debate concerning return routes now ensued, with the majority favouring a ride back through the villages flanking the Pennines on the east side of the Eden vallley. Big Paul, rather disingenuously suggested this to be flat (it isn't, of course) and the majority were swayed. Truth be told, it is a lovely way to head back to Carlisle, and those testing little drags and, especially, the sharp climb out of Croglin were specifically designed to work off the effects of the soup and cakes. And still the sun was shining and the views distracting. By Castle Carrock the group was fragmenting, but a handful of us remained and we headed back via Wetheral where, by general consensus, we made our second (unscheduled) cafe stop. Sat in the pub (did I say pub?) garden in the glorious spring sunshine it was really such a relaxing way to do an Easter club ride. All that remained was the last 12 miles or so back to Carlisle by which time the trip meter had ticked over 100 kilometres. Great day out

The moral of this tale is to keep biking in perspective. The previous week has seen some hard riding in the club hilly 11 time trial, a leg-breaking race training night on Thursday where we spent an hour working on group riding in rather unpleasant wet conditions, all of which is rewarding in its way. But the icing on the cake is a day like we just had today. I'll take those moments and savour them. So should you!

To cap off a great bank holiday, I was out again today, this time testing the legs over Whinlatter again (an old favourite) with Paul who is home from college. True to form, he beat me, but only just. And the time for the climb was a personal best so I can't complain too much. Another 100 kilometres under my belt, good training for the Pyrenees and Alps. The summer can't come soon enough!

March 23rd. Family Favourites

The Keswick Tri is looming ominously on the horizon and this weekend has been my first serious preparation for it, viz theStokesley Duathlon. To add a bit of spice this was very much a family affair with son Paul and nephew Joe also taking part. Who would triumph and uphold family honour? The event itselfwas a doddle, just a 5km run, followed by a 35km bike (billed as 30 but extended due to roadworks) then a second 5km run. Piece of cake! Preparation for the event took the form of taking the TT bike out last Wednesday for a 30k ride at not far off time trial pace. This highlighted a lack of form, so typical of early season, but at least the bike was behaving. The accepted wisdom is to taper one's efforts in the week before a big event. Well, I have never been a great one for accepted wisdom and the glorious weather we enjoyed last week coincided with a day off, so I went for a leisurely 80 mile ride into the heart of the Lakes, down to Ullswater, over Kirkstone and Dunmail and back through Keswick. Fantastic scenery, epic climbs and wall-to-wall sunshine. Can this be summer (whisper that quietly)? Knackered or what? Perhaps the wisdom is right after all. Duathlon day arrived, the wind was up and the sun was hiding behind some grey clouds. No matter, it was dry. Paul and Joe went off with the first wave whilst, being a male supervet, I was given the dubious honour of going off in the 3rd wave with the vain hope of catching them (no chance). In the end my efforts rewarded me with a sub-2 hour time but not quite good enough to beat Paul or Joe, though I got close to Paul (though I have to say that with his regimented university-based alcoholic training programme this is perhaps not so impressive). Still, 13th in category sounds quite respectable (I won't tell you how many that was out of!!). Next time...

March 15th. The Sunday Club Run

Every cycling club has its own version of the 'Sunday Club Run', a veritable institution. We are no different. Of a Sunday morning riders appear, as if by magic, at the pre-ordained meeting point, ready for a leisurely, sociable ride out. Invariably the sun is elsewhere, the clouds are gathering and the wind is doing its level best to persuade you that it really was a mistake to get out of bed this morning. And yet... Here they all are, set for an enjoyable day out. One of the immutable laws of the Club Run is that the first 35 miles should be into a headwind. This is to soften up any would-be mavericks who were toying with the idea of shaking up the natural order. Let them ride on the front of the peloton and, come the run-in to the cafe stop, they will have no chance. Once the peloton gets a sniff of caffeine, normally at about 10 miles from the pre-agreed cafe, all hell will now break loose. The old hands have seen it all before, of course. A couple of riders will move to the front and the pace gradually picks up to dissuade anyone from coming past. After a couple of miles this will have shaken off the less resilient among the peloton, and all that remains are the hard core. Now it gets serious. A rider may fancy his (or her) chances and go for a lone break. How foolish! The peloton swoops and the order is restored. The pace increases and suddenly just a handful will be left. Now the tactics kick in and it's all about who will go when. The cafe is in sight. Do I sprint now, hoping that it's not too far. Or leave it another 100 metres, when it may be too late. Just 3 riders left now, and 300 metres. The sprint is on, and the gap opens. But, wait. With just 100 metres a second rider breaks past and wins it on the line. Blown it again. A podium place, but no cigar. Ah well, that coffee and soup will slip down a treat. Everybody sits and dissects the morning's entertainment, who should have gone when, and why they didn't ("I had a long day in the saddle on Friday" or " I've had a bit of a cold all week"). Harmony is restored and the pulse rate settles. Half an hour later, and with replenished fuel tanks, the peloton resumes its ride. We now see the effect of the second immutable law, namely that the ride back is with a rewarding tailwind. This allows our riders to enjoy cruising speeds of upwards of 20mph with little or no effort. Cycling should always be like this. The miles slip by before, gradually, the pace begins to quicken again and Carlisle comes into sight. The peloton splits as riders head for home. By the end we've done the neck end of 70 miles at a shade under 18mph. Just a typical leisurely Sunday Club Run then.

March 14th

Those evenings are drawing out. It's actually daylight when I get in from work. I love this time of year for the optimism it brings. Two more weeks and the clocks change and that means more cycling. Yay! After riding mega miles in February, March has been a bit more sedate. The biggest plus has been the Return of the Dolan. It was rather like being reunited with an old friend. Trouble was that the weather was so dire it sat in pride of place in my living room for a week before I dare take it out. I'm over that now, and it will get a proper outing tomorrow, 60-70 miles or so on the club run. Today has been time for some fun, as Kev and I took our mountain bikes up to Whinlatter to check out the newAltura Trail. Having spent too long off the MTB it was with some trepidation that Kev and I tackled the south section, not helped by VERY gusty wind conditions which made staying upright a real challenge at times, especially on the long climb up Hospital Plantation. But it was great fun, so much so that we decided to do the climb again, and thus repeat the descent which was very enjoyable. Whilst it would seem not as technical as the North Face, it is certainly good enough to enjoy and brush up on those bike handling skills, always useful when we get back on the road bike.

March 1st

Cripes, March already. 2009 is almost half over! Well, maybe not quite. And the nights are drawing out which means more time to ride. And I am within touching distance now of getting my Dolan back. It has been on holiday for nearly 5 months now and I do miss it. The new frame has been finished and the rebuild will (hopefully) get sorted this week. Am I excited? You bet. In the meantime my winter Giant has performed sterling work, but is showing signs of wear and tear. The back wheel is, basically, shot to bits. The indexing needs sorting out, and it needs cleaning after every ride. February saw a massive 1000km+ on the clock, mainly due to the Spanish trip, but I did get out on Thursday last and tested the legs over Whinlatter. Going up was hard, into the wind with an unhappy bike, but the descent was far, far worse. Imagine pedalling flat out, downhill, into a gale at 11mph. Now that just ain't right, is it? The club run today was like a rehearsal for the Paris-Roubaix with more mud than you see under Just William's finger nails. There was some doubt as to whether we would be allowed inside at the café stop (fortunately Bill is very understanding!). Still, the run home was fun with the peloton humming along at speeds of well over 25mph (yeah, I know, we had a tailwind, but you still have to pedal!)

February 22nd

Back to the usual weather the UK has to offer at this time of year. Being spoilt in Spain makes it harder somehow. The winter wheels are back on the bike and gear shifting is not the same smooth experience.No matter, a few more miles under the belt this week which has been topped off with another visit to Manchester, to take in the final Revolution meeting of the season on Saturday night followed by the, by now, traditional blast up the Cat & Fiddle. Despite the rain and rather inhospitable conditions I was SOOO close to beating my PB. On a good bike who knows.... The Revolution meeting was tremendous, featuring a final farewell appearance from the great man himself, Arnaud Tournant. It was all very highly charged with some great track racing. If you can, and you've not been before, get some tickets when the new season starts towards the end of the year and get down to Manchester to experience the atmosphere and see some top track cyclists in action.

As a footnote, another budding photographer cum Border City rider was taking some shots at the Velodrome. Here are a few that she sent me that are worth a look.

February 15th

Wow, this snow and ice is sure persistent! A break in the sun has been just what the doctor would have ordered. Spain in February is warm - and dry. We have just come back from a week's cycling on the Costa Blanca and as an early season leg stretcher it has proved ideal. 6 days on the bike on the bounce, in shorts and summer tops, and no need to clean the bike every night when we ended our day's ride. 600km in the mountains on some great roads and brilliant climbs (and descents!) have left me ready for more. If you ever get the opportunity to do something like this I can recommend it - it will set your season up a treat, I'm sure. A full blow-by-blow account is now up and running (Spanish Cycling). Today was our club reliability ride, having got back into the UK late last night. Back to winter with a bump. Hopefully my brand new Dolan will be ready and waiting for me and the season is ready to roll. Next weekend it may well be an ideal opportunity to revisit the Cat & Fiddle - it's been a while.

February 1st

So, that's January gone - already. The Alps are looming and the Ventoux challenge is on the horizon. Early season riding has been, necessarily, patchy because of the weather. Despite that I have been able to get a couple of hilly rides in, centering around climbs over Whinlatter near Keswick. Riding it from the Keswick side is short and sharp. Very sharp. Second time round, this week, the weather was awesome with snow on the fells and beautiful clear skies - until I rode over the top into thick fog. Not so much fun. But still worth it for the views on the way up.

Today was the first cyclosportive of the year. So soon. I made a bald statement at the end of 2008 that I would not do as many sportives this year and here we are at the beginning of February and already I have one under my belt. The Cumbrian Christmas Cracker was a lovely ride, heading south from Grasmere via Coniston to Cartmel, returning through Grizedale and Hawkshead. Some tricky little hills, made trickier by the patches of ice which made traction slightly more difficult, especially on the 25% section of Red Bank. But the promised freezing winds didn't materialise and we even enjoyed some sunshine. Again, awesome Lakeland views and some wonderful support from the organisers, it was a ride to savour and enjoy. And Chis and I did just that. The photo here is of Chris topping out on the climb up from Grizedale, a good little leg stretcher.

Next stop is the warmth, sunshine and smooth roads of Costa Blanca (you promised me, Cal!). The bike needs a bit of a service and it's time to dust off the decent wheels. Should be great.

January 18th

Wow, the weather continues to try and thwart us. In spite of forecasts akin to the end of the world, there have been weather windows this weekend allowing some quality bike time. And about time too. Top of the tree was an ascent of Hartside yesterday in beautiful clear sunny conditions, if a trifle blustery. The views from the summit were awesome. As for the climb, it was great to stretch the legs towards the top, good preparation for our forthcoming Spanish training camp, now only 3 weeks away. And today the club run braved the wind, snow, hail and rain as we tapped out another 50 miles at a healthy 16½ mph, not bad for this time of year. Add this to a couple of turbo sessions and a sneaky 5 mile run midweek and the early season conditioning is still on track. And we've found an early sportive, just two weeks away, the Cumbrian Christmas Cracker (what's in a name?). Should be a good ride, taking in some of the South Lakes.

January 11th

This time of year can be so depressing. The weather is nothing if not contrary, and after weeks of shivering temperatures, we now have gales and torrential rain as I gaze wistfully out of my study window. No cycling outside today. I always feel cheated when it does this. Summer seems a lifetime away and the fitness has drained from my legs since those heady days of last autumn when a quick shin up the Cat & Fiddle seemed so inviting and straightforward.

Ah well, there is nothing for it. Time for a turbo session. The ipod is a godsend as I switch on to some heavy rock tracks and put those intervals in. Just to compound the masochism, I then follow this with a 3km run - all good triathlon training, although I have to say on a day like this it does seem a trifle insane.

Perhaps the most enjoyable part of this time of year is sitting down and planning the sportives and other events for the year. Already I have booked a long weekend conditioning the legs in the Pyrenees in May, 3 early cycle sportives in late spring, a spring duathlon and, of course, the Keswick Mountain Tri, also in May (it still seems a rash decision). I will have to bite the bullet and invest in a wetsuit soon.

January 4th

The first event of the year, the Edinburgh Triathlon, is out of the way and I've managed to survive. But was it hard! The feared snow and ice didn't materialise, but it was still pretty damn cold. As it was the sun came out and we "enjoyed" a lovely day on Arthur's Seat. With just under 400 competitors, it was a buzzing atmosphere, and the closed roads and cheering hoards of onlookers made it all the more enjoyable.

The triathlon itself was a 400m swim, followed by 3 bike circuits of Arthurs Seat (17.5km and 500m of ascent) and then a running lap of the same circuit (5.6km, with THAT same hill). Triathlon is a combination of pain, suffering and more pain, especially on the final leg as I struggled up the long climb. I had just enough left for an impressive sprint finish and stormed in in 1 hour 28 min 51. Target had been 90 minutes, so job done. Time to collapse in an undignified heap as this nice young lady thrust a medal in my hand.

Now it's recovery time, to which end it was a out with the Border City Sunday crowd for the best part of 100 easy kilometers today. That soon shakes off the leg stiffness. Suddenly the Keswick Mountain triathlon in mid-May doesn't seem QUITE as daunting. No, I lie, it does seem daunting.

January 1st

The year starts with a bang, or at least the Edinburgh Triathlon. For some bizarre reason it seemed like a good idea to have a go at this, primarily as a start of my preparation for the Keswick Mountain tri in May.. As Christmas 2008 fizzles out I find myself keenly watching weather forecasts and praying that we don't climb out of the pool to find ice and snow on Arthurs Seat. The prospect of 3 laps on the bike in freezing conditions is not the most appealing. On the other hand it might be lovely!