2010: The Etape Revisited
After an exciting year in 2009 this year is proving just as exciting. As last year I am trying to jot down a few random thoughts as I go along which might be of some interest.
The main focus this year has been a second chance to ride the Etape du Tour, in July. In many ways, everything else has revolved around that, with training, racing, time trialling
and the odd trip abroad all part of the build-up. And, boy, was it worth waiting for. All done courtesy of Pyractif who helped me realise the dream!
December 31st: That was 2010
Crikey, hasn't it just flown by! It seems no time at all since I was dusting off my snow tyres and breaking the ice in the Edinburgh New Year Triathlon. And here I am seeing out the old year and looking expectantly into the new. 2010 has been a cracking year, though but. I may not have ridden as many miles, and certainly I have finally cracked the sportive habit (down from the usual 14 to just 4 this year), but the quality has been top notch - Spain, the Pyrenees, the Etape du Tour and the Bealach Mor. All pretty amazing. December has been a dead loss on the bike - the snow and ice have seen to that, and so I will start 2011 from a pretty low base level as my fitness has ebbed with the snowmelt. So it's time to shake off the Christmas cobwebs, renew my gym membership and get those bikes out in the road again and make 2011 an even better year.
And to top it all, we have taken delivery of Helen's new road bike, a shiny new Trek 1.2 WSD, which promises to make its debut early in the New Year. There is fun to be had there, and whilst Helen won't be joining me on my mad Alpine capers, she has already started her mental planning ahead of the Cheshire Cat in March. As she keeps telling me, she wants to ride her new bike. And you know what, I want to ride mine too.
And with all that in mind, it remains for me to wish all my blog readers a wonderful New Year and good wishes for 2011
Mileage for December: hardly any!
Total Figures for 2010
Distance ridden: 7050km
Total ascent: 74,200m
Best ride: A tie between the 2010 Etape and the Bealach Mor
December 13th: Snow and the Marmotte
2010 has ended much as it began- with snow and ice creating havoc and the bike staying firmly locked away. Icy roads are not the cyclist's friend. A few sessions on the turbo are all that remain and the fitness levels have now tailed off so much. Some have training regimes which include a period off the bike - I don't need that, it's call winter here in Cumbria. To be fair, November had its moments. Early in the month I rode out down in Cheshire with the thermometer pushing 17 degrees (shame it was wet and misty). On the plus side, the snow has been very spectacular on the fells and I have resorted to a bit of winter walking and sledging which has been great fun.
The good news is that the plans for 2011 are slowly taking shape, based around the Marmotte in July. Paul and I have both entered and our names now appear on the list of subscribed riders - we're in!! Training for that will begin in earnest in February as I have an enforced lay-off for the next 6 weeks. I confess to being excited about the Marmotte even now, over 7 months away. And Helen and I have signed up for the Cheshire Cat sportive in March, it will be Helen's first sportive ride, hopefully she will enjoy that. Yeah, 2011 is looking kind of interesting already. Those mountain climbs are calling me already.
Mileage for November: less than 250km
October 31st: Did I say Winter?
There is a certain mood that settles at this time of year as the clocks go back and we find it's dark when leaving work. Autumn colours have been glorious, but the roads are wet and the local farm tractors are working overtime it seems to relocate the muddy fields onto the side roads which makes it impossible to stay clean even on a short ride. The prospect of 5 months of winter darkness and long nights is enough to send us into fits of despair. Time to surf tinternet and think about possible training destinations come the spring - Spain, Italy, Mallorca maybe. Well, actually, Mallorca it will be. The Enforcer has come up trumps again and the Team Geri Atrics 2011 spring training camp is on. Our numbers are swellling too, we will be at least 10 this time - and I have to say the average age is on the decrease, not sure whether that's good or bad. So, the next few months will be about keeping the legs ticking over, steady miles when weather and time allow. October has been ok, with several night rides and a few forays in daylight. I even managed to get out on a Sunday club run a couple of weeks ago, unusual these last few months. And with the mud and rain the mudguards have become a necessity to avoid that most unpleasant of cyclists ailments, the wet backside.
Mileage for October: 455km
September 30th: Winter!!
These last couple of weeks have seemingly brought an end to summer. The nights seems to be encroaching and daylight hours midweek are insufficient to get out on the bike without lights. It must be time to dust down the winter bike and look out the mudguards. The trusty Giant didn't need a great deal of work before taking it out and I suspect the Cannondale is not going to see much action this side of Mallorca come March. Sadness! The difference in performance and feel is palpable, but at the end of the day autumn and winter mean mud, rain, night riding and more mud, so the Giant it must be.
In terms of riding, it is now very much about ticking over through the long winter months. Uncertainty over the future of our local gym could leave a bit of a hole when it comes to muscle fitness, so I may have to look at some alternatives to the rowing and weights I was doing last year. On the bike it will be mainly about core fitness, and crucially, enjoyment. The time trials are finished, and I probably won't ride a sportive this side of the spring, so long miles will be over favourite routes either in the Lakes or down on the Cheshire-Welsh border.
At least this gives the Thursday night crowd a chance to dust down those high-lumens winter lights as we pound the country lanes in search of fitness miles. Tonight we came across a deer, bounding across the road in front of us, no doubt startled by the bright lights.
Mileage for September: 460km
September 4th: Bealach Mor
To finish the summer's cycling in style really does take a special event. The Cumberland Challenge has met this need in previous years, but this year Paul and I wanted a different challenge. The Bealach Mor is just the ticket. 92 miles over unforgiving terrain in the beautiful north-west highlands of Scotland, and including the infamous climb over the Bealach na Ba, just about the most impressive hillclimb in the UK, bar none. Paul and I headed north on Friday night, arriving after sundown in the small village of Lochcarron, itself a wonderful spot nestling on the edge of the sealoch by the same name. Our B&B was cosy and welcoming, depsite the late hour. Breakfast at 6.45am? No problem!
Saturday morning arrived with the promise of a lovely day, and it did not disappoint. Having done the little Bealach in pretty dismal conditions last year I think we were owed one. Time to collect! We arrived in Kinlochewe shortly after 8, the day already quite warm and the sun trying to break through. A slight breeze was welcome, though we would suffer the effects of a steady southerly headwind later. At sign-on we bumped into Keith, whom we had ridden with in the Pyrenees back in May - small world. We lined up shortly before 9am with the other riders, anticipation buzzed in the air. The piper pied and at 9.03 we presented our timing chips and were away. The Bealach, here we come!
The Bealach Mor is altogether more challenging a ride than its little cousin, and starts with a stiff 5 mile hillclimb out of Kinlochewe, heading south to Achnasheen. This split the field immediately and we steadily rode our own pace to the summit. Gradually the riders came together again and we were soon pulling a fairly sizeable group of maybe 25 riders as the road veered west and headed on the long, long descent to Lochcarron. Recovery time, time to feed, drink, enjoy the fabulous scenery and the atmosphere of the peloton. This is what riding is about.
At Lochcarron, the whole nature of the ride changes as we hit the first of so many short sharp climbs, this one about a mile with gradients of 12%. The field split apart and now it was more about who had ridden wisely. After a few more miles the mighty cliffs that guard the Bealach came into view, contrasting dramatically with the purple heather. The heart skipped a beat! Paul and I took some food on, gels and bars, ready for the big climb and soon we were there, at the dibbing point. This was it.
There is no doubt the Bealach is an intimidating climb. The gradient gradually increases as the cliffs loom larger until the road is sucked into the giant upper corrie and reaches an almost impassable headwall of granite. On a day like today it is a spectacular sight. Add to that the fact that some 500 or so cyclists are now toiling their way up the tarmac ribbon into this giant amphitheatre and it is pretty awesome indeed. Paul left me as we dibbed and I watched him race away. I settled into a pace and rhythm and found myself passing numbers who had earlier passed us - how satisfying is that? Slowly my legs succumbed to the sapping nature of the climb and I crawled up the final steep sloeps onto the hairpins and, finally, over the top of the climb. 46 minutes, not sparkling but I'll settle for that. Paul was waiting for me, his time of 39 minutes was a PB.
The descent to Applecross is stunning, very fast and slightly dangerous with a couple of nasty corners. But great fun. Here I managed to regain some kudos and sat up to wait for Paul at the bottom. From here on the route changes and we are now faced with a series of short but very sharp climbs round the Applecross peninsula, a very tough 24 miles or so to Shieldaig. But, we have a tailwind, at least to begin with. Paul and I settled into a nice pace and it gradually began to dawn on us that a time inside 6 hours was eminently possible.
By the time we finally pulled into the feed at Shieldaig we had every chance of making it. We took on water and some food and sped on, up the nasty climb over to Torridon, the views now of the Torridon trio of Beinn Alligin, Liatach and Beinn Eighe dominating a spectacular skyline in the sunshine. As we pulled through Torridon we had a small group sitting in on us, and as we had done much of the work we felt disinclined to drag them over the final climb of the day back to Kinlochewe. Unleashed, Paul sped away, his legs now with a new lease of life. I picked up my pace too and eased my way up the long incline to Loch Clair, leaving those fellow riders behind. The final 3 miles or so is downhill and I raced in some 3 minutes behind Paul, with a time of 5 hours 46 minutes. How VERY satisfying was that? Especially as we were hoping to beat 6hours 30! And what an epic ride. On a day when the weather blessed us it was a performance to cherish.
August 26th
This has probably been my quietest month on the bike in many a long time. To date, less than 350km - a new record? Notably though, I have managed to turn up for a couple of local time trials. The residual effects of the Etape were obviously still in my legs as I managed to record personal bests for both the Cockermouth 25 and our hilly 11 mile circuit at Cumdivock. It may be extreme but there does seem to be some credence to the theory that Etape riding has a knock on effect when it comes to short efforts like time trials, something I have been extolling for years now. That apart, until today it's been a few short evening rides after work to remind my legs what the bike is like (I have been packing in some long walks on the fells these last few weeks).
Today I had the chance to get in some last ditch training ahead of the Bealach Mor next weekend (gulp!), and took a lengthy 130km spin out from Chester into the Welsh borders round Llangollen and Ruthin. Naturally it included a couple of climbs, though I have to say no records were in danger today. The Horseshoe Pass was a bit dreek and breezy, and I cruised up enjoying the ride, rather than giving it a blast. Down at Ruthin I sought out another of the climbs that appear in the recent publication, 100 Greatest Cycling Climbs by Simon Warren, namely the climb over Moel Arthur north of Ruthin. It is pretty brutal with stretches at 25% which sap the legs after 100km. Probably not my fastest climb ever. And the return to Chester was into a relentless headwind, so all in all, good character-building stuff. But it was just good to get back on the bike for some long miles.
Mileage for August: 340km
August 1st: Back to normality
Since returning from the Pyrenees and given the rather battered state of my legs after that hot day on the Tourmalet, I have deliberately eased back on the cycling. In fact, the bikes have only seen action on 3 occasions. First up was a 10 mile TT on the flat Keswick course last Tuesday, a chance to see how much the Etape has done for my top-end speed. In the event I was a bit disappointed with equalling my best 10 mile time of the season (it's a small sample!), but was really hoping for a bit better. Still I'm not sniffing at 24 minutes 49, and a chance to ride my new Ribble TT machine is always fun. On Thursday I took the Cannondale south with me to Cheshire and forayed up the Cat and Fiddle. Having not ridden it all year, that's twice in a matter of weeks now. The weather was not very clement, the wind howled and the cloud was low and wet. Basically, not pleasant. A sub 29-minute climb was quite satisfying, but again if I'm honest a tad disappointing.
Finally, today it was time to have a go at Triathlon. Having not competed since New Years Day, this was a bit of an unknown journey. My training regime is simple: swim - don't bother, it'll be the same as last time; bike - don't bother, I ride time trails anyway; run - don't bother, I don't really like it anyway. I thought I ought to show willing, so did venture out on a 3km trot round the block on Friday night, but didn't want to over do it. Come today I felt good and up for the 2nd annual Carlisle Triathlon. Bring it on. The 500m pool swim was fine, the 20km bike was a bit compromised by my (usual) appalling transition time and the stiff headwind on the way out, but my 5km run was (for me) quite stunning. This gave me an overall time of 1 hour 11m 13 seconds, good enough as it turned out to place 3rd in the Male Supervet category. A podium, no less! To say I was gobsmacked would be an understatement. I think I need some more rest!
Mileage for July: 850km
July 18th: The 2010 Etape du Tour
So that was the Etape then. All done and dusted for another year. Suddenly, it's all over. The training, the angst, the suffering is all behind me now and I can bask in the glory of success on the slopes of the Tourmalet. And it has been quite a journey. Staying with Pyractif certainly makes life a bit easier. Nestling in the foothills of the central Pyrenees, Chris and Helen offer fantastic hospitality. Flying out last Wednesday left me a couple of days to prepare, and after reassembling the bike I took in some local climbs. A quick shifty up the Col des Ares (similar to Hartside), then on Thursday Chris and I rode over the Port de Bales (equivalent to the Tourmalet) enjoying a fantastic descent into Luchon. As the big day approached I eased off and checked my kit, nutrition and the bike one last time. On Saturday we went to sign on in Pau, get our race numbers and try not to spend money in the Start Village (I failed!!). Then it was a last supper for the condemned riders.
Sunday dawned but we were already up and on the road to Pau by then. Chris dropped us on the outskirts just after 6, leaving us a short ride down to the start pens where we joined the gathering riders. Tension, anxiety and apprehension was etched on many faces. I felt strangely relaxed. After all, I've done it before, I have some idea of what lies ahead. With a start number of 4239 I found myself somewhere in the middle with Tim, a fellow Pyractif rider. We chatted, laughed, and savoured the atmosphere. Then 7am came round and we felt the peloton moving. Shortly after that we clicked in and we were riding, slowly, toward the start line. At 7.13 we crossed the starting mats, our transponders pinged and we were off.
It is difficult to describe the next 9 hours, 6 minutes and 55 seconds. It is, suffice to say, a long time to spend in the saddle. For many, it was even longer as I finished comfortably in the top half of the field (3088 out of 6888 finishers). Tim and I rode together for the first 54km, to the foot of the Marie Blanque where chaos broke out. We didn't see each other again until after the finish. Congestion on that climb forced us to a standstill and then a 1500m walk - frustrating in the extreme as I saw my silver medal hopes fade. After that it was a question of finding big, fast groups and not expending too much energy before the Soulor at 100km. The weather was amazing, the sun was high and the clouds few. The scenery is something else. Sadly, no camera! By now the field was a bit more spread out, so congestion was not so bad and the Soulor climb was fairly comfortable. At the top it was time for another fast, flowing descent - apart from the sheep ambling across the road just off the summit as I braked hard from 65kph to avoid it. Scary moment!
In Argeles, time again to regroup, and sit in for a few kilometers. Chris was at the side of the road in Pierrefitte, just before the start of the drag up to the Tourmalet, offering drink, food, a cheer and good support. Now the hard work was beginning. The Gorge de Luz is not classified as a climb, but really is part of the Tourmalet and lasts 12km before you reach Luz St Sauveur, start of the climb proper. Over the timing mats and this was it .By now the heat was extreme - about 34 degrees in Luz, and riders were visibly suffering. Bodies littered the roadside, and at times it was like pedalling treacle. Slowly, metre by metre, the climb ticked by and the end came nearer. After Bareges, the road kicks up, viciously, for 2km, hitting 11%. Agony. Spectators cheered, and offered a douche of cold water - wonderful. The last 8km is hard, no shelter now as the treeline is below us. The road is lined with fans who are waiting for the tour later in the week, but who offer every encouragement.less than 2km to go my legs cramped big-time and I was forced to stop. This was painful. No way was I not crossing the line on the bike and I remounted, turned the final steep hairpin and hauled myself through screaming spectators to the finish and elation. What a ride! And, as the highest place finisher of our Pyractif group, and as faster climber on the Tourmalet, I feel I can legitimately claim bragging rights.
As a postscript to my trip I was left with a couple of days to go 'tour watching' which proved a bit frustrating thanks to over zealous gendarmes on the Port de Bales. Nevertheless, the stage start from Luchon was a colourful spectacle with big crowds and riders accessible as ever. I had one last climb left in my legs, namely the little known Hospice de France which climbs steeply and relentlessly out of Luchon high into the mountains. With 6km at about 13% it is a bit of a brute, but the views and scenery at the top make it all worthwhile. And the descent is soooo fast!!
June 29th: Great Dun Fell revisited
This has been a fun few days. At the weekend I was over in Yorkshire with the chance to ride on the Pennine moors aboveHebden Bridge. Fantastic cycling country. The climb of Blackstone Edge from Mytholmroyd is classic, 5 miles of relentless but well graded hill up on to the bleak moors above Littleborough. Into a gentle headwind on a warm sunny afternoon, and at the same time as England were playing so abjectly against Germany in the World Cup, I can think of few better places to be than on my bike. After sweeping down to Littleborough I then headed toward Burnley and climbed again, this time on to the moors north of Hebden Bridge, with spectacular views of the Calder Valley. A final steep descent back into Hebden Bridge rounded off a brilliant 2 hour hour ride (thanks to the helpful staff at Blazing Saddles bike emporium in Hebden itself for their suggestion).
This evening, as the sun re-emerged after some welcome rain, Paul and I headed over to the Cumbrian Pennines to revisit Great Dun Fell. What a monster, and what a glorious evening. We met up with fellow Border City rider Neil R, and the three of us rode out from Langwathby to Knock where the climb starts. The next 35 minutes was both enjoyable and hard, this really must be just about the hardest proper climb in the UK (see the Great UK Climbs tab, left). As we crested the cattle grid at the top I was delighted to see a new PB of under 38 minutes, and the views were amazing, if a little hazy. We were treated to a beautiful sunset on the descent and the ride back to Langwathby was a cheery one. Brilliant evening.
Mileage for June: 772km
June 22nd: More hills
It has been a defining weekend as the Etape gets ever nearer. Training now is about keeping my form as I feel more or less ready for the big event. Recovery after the Pyrenees has left me feeling in pretty good shape and this weekend was a chance to test out my legs, firstly on the Cat & Fiddle, then on the Horseshoe Pass above Llangollen. Sunday morning saw just about ideal conditions for the C&F, warm with a slight breeze. It would have been a shame to waste it, and here I was riding it for the first time this year. From the off it felt good but I was pleasantly surprised to stop the clock at 28'04 as I crested the summit. 3 minutes inside my previous best, that's a serious improvement. All those hours in the gym are looking increasingly worthwhile.
On Monday I had a day in North Wales, riding out from Chester and settled on a route which took in the famous Horseshoe Pass and returned over the frighteningly steep Bwlch Penbarras, east of Ruthin. We are certainly enjoying some great weather, and sunblock was definitely required as I looked to enhance my cyclists tanlines. The Horseshoe Pass climbs for some 4 miles north of Llangollen and is a spectacular climb, amidst some impressive hill scenery. I decided against giving it a real blast, preferring to enjoy the views, but was still happy to reach the summit having passed another rider on the ascent. He took my photo at the summit!! From here I rolled down to Ruthin and steeled myself for the Bwlch Penbarras. This featured yesterday as the culmination of the Dave Lloyd Mega Challenge - what a brutal way to end a sportive! It starts steep, gets steeper and rips your legs apart. At the top I just collapsed in a broken heap, and enjoyed watching a fellow sufferer weave his way up the climb behind me. I had nothing left, so the last 25 miles back to Chester did feel a step too far. More recovery required I think. But a good day.
June 17th: The New Beast!
The latest project has been a new build time trial bike, after the demise of my faithful old Pinarello (thanks Calum!!). Having bought a new Ribble TT frame, together with carbon forks and headset, all for under £200, I salvaged all the bits off the old machine and set about building her up from scratch. Rather fun, actually. It took me a few days, and I had a bit of help from Calum as we spent an hour or so before cutting the forks steerer to size. On Monday the machine was complete and I blooded it on the Keswick 10 mile course on Tuesday night. Have to say I was rather pleased with my time of 24 minutes 49, not earth-shattering but good for me. I will have to change those tyres though!!
June 3rd: Pyrenees revisited
The Etape is now less than 6 weeks away, but I feel my preparations are well on track, having just returned from a full-on week of leg-battering on the mountain cols of the Pyrenees with Paul, chez Chris & Helen at Pyractif. A full account will appear in due course, but suffice to say that Paul and I really worked each other over. 16 cols, 650km and over 13000m of climbing, including giants such as Tourmalet, Aspin (twice), Peyresourde (three times!!) and Marie Blanque. We did a full Etape recce over 2 days, invaluable from my perspective. And we had some pretty glorious weather (most of the time). Add Chris and Helen's excellent hospitality and it made for a great week. 2010 Etape du Tour? Bring it on!!
Mileage for May: 907km
May 11th: Tapering
The last few weeks have seen a distinct trailing off in terms of activity on the bike. There are a variety of reasons for this, not least of which is that my time trial Pinarello is very sick and is currently in intensive care after attempts to replace the headset bearings (big mistake!) Highlights during the last fortnight or so have been i) an enjoyably strong performance in a TLI roadrace in Scotalnd last week before puncturing midway through the second lap when in the lead group (which stayed away and included the eventual winner), and ii) a pretty average ride in poor conditions on the Keswick 10 time trial course in the Nelson Wheelers open event which nevertheless won me 3rd place in "Category C", for which I should get the princely sum of £5. As I rarely win anything, this goes down as a major result in the Cumbriancyclist palmares!! That apart it has been a case of a few training rides, including a particularly strong one tonight over the Caldbeck fells. The Pyrenees are now just a fortnight away (volcanic ash permitting), and that will be a great opportunity to test the mountain legs just 6 weeks ahead of the Etape. Boy, am I looking forward to it.
April 25th: Great Dun Fell & The Rievers Marathon
Cyclists have always had a little touch of insanity about them, or so I am led to believe by those who know me. This weekend would suggest that they are probably right. Saturday was glorious, warm and springlike. Lambs gamboled in the fields, daffodils still shook their brightly coloured heads in the gentle breeze - and Great Dun Fell loomed like a brutal monster over them all. So, I thought, why not go and ride the hill? To be fair, fellow cyclists have been cajoling me for ages to go and sample the slopes of this monster. It's not as if I wasn't forewarned - steep, long, epic. And as I rode in from nearby Langwathby the giant Pennine mountain did indeed loom over the Eden valley, like a brooding giant. Well, I'm always game for a laugh. The climb starts from just outside Knock and bites your ankles almost before you start. Details of the climb are elsewhere on Cumbriancylist - follow this link - but suffice to say that the next 40 minutes were pretty brutal. It is a monster. At 850m, the summit is also (I would guess) the highest road in the UK, and my legs bore testimony to that thought. What a great climb though. And after a few moments at the top to don a windproof top and have a quick swig from the bottle, it was time to turn and head back down again. Funtime.
All this was ideal preparation for what came the next day. On the day of the London Marathon, Whistling Pete's latest Century epic was a mind-boggling 200km effort, heading out into the wilds of Border Riever country. Why stop at 100 miles when 200 km sounds so much more impressive? As we set off in the drizzle from Pete's house at 8.15am, I'm not sure my legs were entirely ready for this after Great Dun Fell the day before. The A-team numbered 8, although we were joined early on by two hangers-on who kept with us to Newcastleton before taking the easy option and heading back to Carlisle. The A-team carried on, heading up now to Kielder and wild country. Even Big George suffered as we climbed steadily, though Simmy was champing at the bit at times. Pete whistled and chivvied us along. It was a good pace and soon we were tucking into tea/coffee and cake at Kielder Castle, 70 km down. Our route now took us further east, past Kielder Water (wow, it's a big lake) and then up over the moors to Otterburn, enjoying a fantastic 50mph descent at one point, before rolling into the picturesque village of Elsdon and the welcomng Bike Cafe, a real gem. In truth we probably dallied a tad too long here, though the craic was wonderful, and as we set off again, in the knowledge that we still had 100km to ride, it was a daunting prospect, into a headwind too. I confess, the spirit flagged at this and the return was tough. Young Graham was suffering too with a gammy knee, though he wasn't quite done for. By now George had rediscovered his energy and insisted on huge powerful turns on the front. Once on the Hadrians Wall military road, straight into a westerly, it was just too bloody hard. Graham and I brought up a plucky rearguard action, whilst the rest ploughed ahead. After what seemed an eternity, and was certainly well over 10 minutes, we finally rolled into the cafe at Greenhead, our third and final stop of the day. By now we had 175km in our legs - I was officially knackered. The last 35km seemed to be rather dreamlike, almost as if detached from reality. If only... But we made it, all 210km of it, mission accomplished, and before the sun went down too. It had indeed been an epic, a great ride. but I may wait a while before repeating the experience!
Mileage for April: 955km
April 17th: Fried legs and Wild Hills
Today was a moment of truth for me. All the effort in the gym through those cold winter months was now under the microscope.The Moniaive Wild Hills TLI road race, a testing 38 mile thrash over the rolling hills north of Dumfries, would provide a real test of my legs and resolve. After two disappointing rides in club time trials in the last fortnight my feelings going into this race were not hopeful. After all. hills are my weakness when it comes to races. A sizeable group of Border City riders were aiming to ride, and some 11 of us lined up in the pretty village of Moniaive at 10.50am, ready for the off. The race was Australian Pursuit, handicapped on age, all of which meant I went off with the over 50s, a huge group of some 20 or so, hoping to stay away as the younger and elite riders (including Paul, riding his first TLI event) set off in pursuit some minutes later. The first 6 miles are uphill, a brutal start which soon sapped the legs and by the top I was off the back of the main peloton, but not too far. Joining forces with George and Simmy, we organised a chase and finally got back on on the long descent into a nasty headwind. Knackered already, but the chance for some respite. The next few miles were rolling and pretty uneventful, until we turned south and suddenly had the benefit of a tailwind at last. Straightaway, another long draggy climb and I was struggling, off the back. Then salvation, as I went over the crest and the elite peloton caught up with me and swept me along. Now we were flying. The exhiliration of riding in a large group of 40 or so riders, at speeds in excess of 35-40 mph, was amazing. This was now the lead group on the road and, amazingly, I was still in the mix. Not for long. 10 miles from the finish another turn, this time east, and we had another long draggy climb. My legs were screaming by now, but I couldn't stay in the hunt and now it was survival. George and Simmy were just ahead of me, I had to keep with them. I latched onto George's wheel, as Simmy fell back, then caught a small group of 4 riders near the summit. Poor George was gone. Emma was standing roadside with her camera near the summit, yelling encoragement to riders and spurring us on. Over the summit and it was downhill some 6 miles to the finish. Tactics was key now, watching other riders. Whose wheel was the key, who was strongest. We were racing for minor places, but they all matter. In the end it came down to a sprint. I lost by half a wheel.
Border City claimed second overall, with Dave riding well, and young Dan had a storming ride to be in the mix. Amazingly, I came in third placed Border City rider, claiming bragging rights for the next few weeks. The fact that my legs felt totally fried and I was exhausted was irrelevant. But then the buzz of riding an event like this is palpable, ask George and Simmy whose first race this was. The stats made interesting reading (if you're into that sort of thing) - 59 km in 1 hour 40 at an average speed of over 35kph, 650m of ascent and heartrate up over 150 for most of the ride. All our guys finished, and everyone had a smile on their face at the end. Brilliant.
(Photos here are courtesy sports photographer Emma Felton)
April 4th: A New Beginning
I think I'm in love! My new bike arrived last week and it really is the business. Early days, I know, but first impressions are sooften accurate. The Easter weekend has given me the opportunity to test it out on a few rides and it is everything I could wish for. Fast, responsive, twitchy, light and silky smooth to ride. Shame the engine is a bit spluttery and could do with some fine tuning! For the technically minded it is a Cannondale Synapse Carbon Ultegra Compact - in black. Having switched wheels, replacing the DT Swiss with my Aero 420s, it runs beautifully. All new bikes do, of course. We had a run out today up in the foothills of the Pennines, through Castle Carrock and Hallbankgate, Cumberland Challenge territory, and the Synapse mixed it comfortably. Highlight of the day, though, was settling down in the pub in Great Corby to enjoy the spectacle of the 2010 edition of the Tour of Flanders. Watching Cancellara power to an amazing solo victory over the cobbled climbs was inspiring. And did we cheer as he showboated down the final straight to finish well ahead of pre-race favourite Tom Boonen. David Millar had a strong ride and Roger Hammond excelled to finish a fine 7th.
Last week saw my opening time trial of the season too. Boy, how I really dislike the first one. It is always a bit of a psychological hurdle, but given the weather conditions on Wednesday night included snow (really), temperatures barely above freezing and a strong northerly wind to batter us on the way back after the turn, it is little wonder that my time was rubbish. Still, at least it's out of the way, and now it can only get better. Can't it? Honourable mention should go to Paul who is home for a week or so, and who put in an amazing ride to score top points in League 2. The fact that he took a whopping 2 and a half minutes out of me I think should be quietly overlooked.
Mileage for March: 606km
March 21st: The Century Rides again
March is fast disappearing, and today is the Spring Equinox. To celebrate The Whistler came up with his latest in a series of monthly century rides. Having missed the last one (that's the trouble when you go to Spain) I was determined to take part in this month's. Pete had dreamt up a brutal little route for March, taking in two major climbs over first Shap and then Kirkstone, before a final sting with the haul up to Dockray from Aira Force. So, a lot of climbing today. After last week's (relatively) gentle jaunt in Cheshire on the 80 mile Jodrell Bank sportive, this was ideal prep work for the Etape (which is now just 4 months away). So 11 of us rode out from Pete's, spirits high. And to start with the weather was nigh on perfect. The TV weather forecast had predicted a dry day (hmmm!) and despite an overnight frost we set off with the prospect of some sun. And so it proved - by the time we rode down to Ullswater and Pooley Bridge the sun was out, it was warm (well, warmish) and we suffered our first puncture. Still, there are worse places to mill about waiting than Pooley Bridge on a sunny Sunday morning.
The climb to Shap village saps the energy, and the headwind made it all the harder. At Shap our numbers were swelled as Dave and Scott joined the party, some more help with the final climb to Shap summit. A punishing drag, it rises for 6km or so, all of it into that headwind and by now the clouds had descended. Suddenly it wasn't such a nice day any more. Cheekily, as we closed on the summit I sprang off the front to claim maximum KOM points (well, you can get away with it once!). The descent from Shap was fast and fun, despite the wind, and yet another puncture and then we were rolling over the Lakeland foothills into Staveley and lunch at Wilfs, timely given the noises emanating from our tummies by this point. 55 miles down, 45 to go. As we sat enjoying baked potatoes and some warm coffee the rain started. So, what happened to that weather forecast? From here on it was getting tougher, the long climb over Kirkstone in the rain and cloud was steady rather than spectacular, followed by a rather cagey descent to Patterdale on wet, greasy 20% slopes. Alex had gone ahead to gain some distance before we caught him, but there he was at the foot of Kirkstone with yet another wheel problem. George came out in sympathy, and we were given a masterclass in puncture repair as we gradually chilled in the March drizzle. By Glenridding Alex was flat again and now we needed more drastic repairs - out came the electrical tape. Finally, we were on the road again, slipping past the Ullswater daffodils made famous by Wordsworth - sadly, they weren't actually flowering yet due to the severity of the winter, but you can see where I'm coming from. At least the rain would help.
The final big climb over Dockray to Troutbeck was tough on tired legs, with the peloton split now. At least the rain had eased and we regrouped for the run back through Greystoke and Unthank. For the final few miles the group split again as George powered on the front and we watched as he slipped away, half the peloton in tow. Us mere mortals cruised back along the 10 course to Brisco and a welcome cuppa. Job done. But I think I'll give the gym a miss in the morning.
February 28th: So, that was Spain
Wow, doesn't a week fly by just so fast? Especially when it proves as enjoyable as our stay on the Costa Blanca last week. It was very much a case of mission accomplished with warm weather (compared to yet more snow back in the UK), some sunshine and some beautiful scenery to enjoy. The fact that most of our party spent at least some of the time coughing and spluttering their way through colds did little to dent our enthusiasm, and to come home with 400 cycling miles in my legs feels pretty good. The trusty old Giant stood the test well, indeed between the six of us I cannot recall a single major mechanical or puncture - how good is that? The climbs in that part of Spain cannot be seen as overly hard or brutal, but they do test the legs and the resolve. New this time was the long climb over the Port des Tudons, often used on the Vuelta d'Espagna. We watched in awe as a semi-pro team showed us how to descend. Oh, and the food, beer and wine went down well too. Yeah, good winter training. What's required now I feel is some recovery time. Hopefully that's not just an excuse!
The full story is now complete - read it here.
Mileage for February: 782km
February 18th: In search of sun...
Only 24 hours to go before we fly off to the sun. Well, we hope it's sun anyway. Weather forecasts for Denia on the Costa Blanca suggest heady temperatures of over 15 degrees (that's centigrade!) and sunshine to boot, for much of next week. Apart from my not being able to take the Dolan with me, I am well up for it. We all are. Talking of the Dolan, that has gone to meet its maker (literally) and now we wait to see what Terry D will offer me to get me up and running again. A sad, sad day yesterday, heading back up the motorway, knowing I will never see the bike again. Anyway, the winter bike is safely packaged ready for the trip, and I guess I am really looking forward to the mountains there.
And just in case we ask ourselves next week why we flew south for the winter, Cal and Big George took a ride up Hartside today where they found the snowdrifts quite intimidating. Now, that looks pretty damn cold to me (Big George asked me to let you know he took the photo!).
February 14th: The trouble with Carbon
Today I am sad. Very sad. My trusty Dolan, pride and joy, bike of my dreams, has met with what looks like a terminal mechanical during today's Reliability Ride. I am gutted. No, worse than that. With only a few days till we fly out to Spain it now looks like I will, once again, be taking my winter bike to ride in the Spanish sunshine. The problem? The pictures tell the story. Suffice to say that, on a small country road out near Annan, an issue with the chain and the rear cassette which, in turn, jammed in the spokes of the rear wheel obviously caused so much force through the rear chainstay that the carbon simply gave way. An almighty crack, heard as far away as Dumfries I'm told, accompanied my graceful downward spiral toward the tarmac, Being on the front of the bunch at the time I was somewhat concerned that I might provide a soft landing as those behind piled into me, but fortunately due to good handling all round and no little luck, everyone survived. Except the Dolan. Oh, and my knee. Fellow riders tell me it looked pretty impressive.
I was rescued by organiser Mike, who must have taken pity on me (Mum always told me not to accept lifts from strange men, but under these circumstances I was prepared to make an exception). At least I got to the food and was able to tell a good yarn to anyone who would listen. There is something about someone else's misfortune, perhaps the fact that you've not suffered it yourself, that makes people more sympathetic. Worst of all, the bike had felt so good until that terminal moment, I was really looking forward to testing it on those Spanish climbs.
Today I am sad. Very sad.
January 31st: 100 up
Blimey. That was January. As the month draws to a close it is with some relish that I look back on what has been, despite the weather, a pretty good month as I continue my build-up for the Etape in July. The month was rounded off in some style today as a small group of us (9 in total) headed out just after dawn this morning and for the first century ride of 2010. Boy, was it cold (around minus 3) as we donned our winter gear, but the weather was set fair and lived up to its promise. We had a cracker in fact, with clear sunny skies and not TOO much wind. All of which was Whistling Pete's idea - he feels the urge to ride a century every month through the year and we were fast running out of time for January. Moffat was our goal today, via the side roads round Annan and Lochmaben. Not overly hilly, and steady riding, it was going to be good. And so it proved. "Arfur" (Big George) kept himself admirably in check and the team stuck together for the 108 miles of steady riding, with just over 6 hours on the bike. We checked into the Rumbling Tum cafe at halfway, in the centre of Moffat, so well named in the light of the noises emanating from my midriff! Time also to compare notes on the various bits of Garmin kit that now seem to be de rigueur amongst club members. Fun time next as we set off back with a helpful tailwind on the return leg. By the time we reached our second cafe stop at Annan legs were beginning to tire, no doubt thanks to our long stretch at 22-23mph out of Moffat down to Lockerbie. The last 20 or so miles back into Carlisle had some of us flagging (myself included), but we kept going and rode back to Pete's just as the sun was going down. Perfect timing.
My ideas on the build-up to riding this year's Etape are based very much on improving leg strength and endurance. This was a real tester today, but seems to suggest that this is the right path. A combination of rowing, leg strengthening exercises with weights and the odd hard turbo session does seem to be leading in the right direction.
Mileage for January: 512km
January 24th: Normal service is resumed
Oh, the joy of it. That feeling of wind on your face, the hum of the tyres, the smooth clunk of gear changes (ok, so maybe that's stretching a point). The snow and ice have gone at last. That's a whole week of being able to exercise the bike out on the open road once again. Last week's club run was a revelation as over 30 Border City hacks, including many we've not seen in a long while, braved the cold and set off from Morton on the first fully fledged Sunday ride of the year (I am not forgetting the true hard core who managed a ride a couple of weeks back and got frostbite for their efforts). Rumours persist that the cafes have been worrying about what has happened to us. But they haven't forgotten us. Today it was a slightly smaller turnout, but still some 20 or so braved the 2 degree temperatures and headed out for Penrith via Ullswater and the beautiful scenery. And it was a hard old ride too. 65 miles of decidedly not-flat terrain to test the legs after such a long lay-off. Oh, but what a feeling. A new compact chainset, fitted only on Friday, saw action for the first time on my trusty winter bike and ran as smoothly as I could wish. And all those efforts in the gym seem to be paying off, I actually wasn't dropped on the hills - now that makes a pleasant change. And Spain is now just 4 weeks away.
January 14th
Crikey, this snow and ice is just getting a little bit tiresome. The triathlon apart, I haven't managed to get out on the bike for over a month now and it is getting very frustrating. As I gaze out of my office window this morning the snow is falling again. Will it ever end? The upside is that I have dusted off the hiking boots and enjoyed the snow from a different perspective. Indeed, a group of us frustrated cyclists took a hike up Latrigg, overlooking Keswick, last weekend and the views were stunning. The turbo, workouts in the gym and spinning sessions have helped to keep some fitness levels, but there is no substitute for actually riding the tarmac. Spain is just 5 weeks away and it can't come fast enough.
Elsewhere we have the Tour Down Under to look forward to, and that kicks off this coming weekend. There is British interest with Team Sky making their long-awaited debut. And there is a welcome return for Jens Voigt after his horrendous crash in last year's Tour de France. Watch this space...
In the meantime my Road to Tourmalet DVD has landed and I can start familiarising myself with what is to come. Can't wait...
January 1st: Edinburgh Freezathon
After last year's first attempt at this stirring year-defining event, I suddenly developed the urge to repeat the experience and signed up for the Edinburgh New Year Triathlon back in November. That it went ahead, given the frozen weather conditions wehave 'enjoyed' these last few weeks, was miraculous enough. The whole event was put together at short notice, inside 3 months, and the organisers are to be congratulated for a wonderful event. Despite the weather 176 hardy souls braved hangovers and freezing temperatures and enjoyed closed roads, very little ice and enough cheering onlookers to make it a party atmosphere. There is no doubt that coming at this time of year it is difficult to be in any way competitive, though there were the usual hard core competitors who were clearly more finely honed than I was. My aim? To compete, enjoy the day and not make a complete **** of myself. Finishing 65th of 173 finishers I reckon that's job done! After 3 weeks of cycling inactivity it was simply wonderful to be back in the saddle, if only for a mere 11 hilly miles. The run, too, was strangely enjoyable, probably helped by the fact that it was flat and a bit short (only 4.4km). Last year hauling tired legs up over Arthur's Seat was so, so hard, this year there was none of that.
So, a hearty thanks to all those involved in putting the event on and making it a memorable day. And for anyone looking to get next year off to a rousing start, think about having a go. It's probably a great cure for a hangover!