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2012: Return to the Etape

2011 was good. Very good. Finishing the Marmotte, riding the C2C, and building a new "winter" bike. All part of making it such an enjoyable biking year. How to follow that was my problem.

Well, we shall have to see. In the end I was unable to resist the challenge of what turned out to be an incredibly tough Etape du Tour, the 197km stage from Pau to Luchon. Just 4 Pyrenean climbs, a mere 5200m of ascent. It's true to say I was pretty tired at the end of that! But what else? Well, Team Geri Atrics were on tour again, returning to Mallorca in March, and Paul and I headed out to the Pyrenees in May to reacquaint oursleves with Pyractif hospitality. And, as usual, Helen and I have been finding some fresh challenges to stretch her riding through the year. So, all in all, it promises much. So, here goes...

December 31st

So, that was 2012. Despite a concerted attempt by the weather gods to thwart me I did manage a last couple of outings on the bike before the clock ticked over to 2013, but it has been very much a case of stir crazy as wind, rain and worse made going out less than palatable. At this time of year, I confess to being more inclined to indoor training on the rower when the weather gets less clement.

So, what memories do I take forward of 2012? It has seen a number of significant cycling moments, that's for sure. Perhaps the stand-out moment, above all else, was July 22nd, on the Champs-Elysees in Paris when Sir Bradley led the Team Sky team onto the famous cobbles before launching Cav to a landmark 4th consecutive spring victory to bring the curtain down on a Tour de France which goes down in history. The first Brit EVER to win the coveted yellow jersey, to stand on the top step of the podium as the winner of the Tour de France. I confess I really never envisaged I would see the day when we could say that. Sadly, 2012 will also be remembered for the Lance Armsgtrong fallout, a time when 7 years of "cycling history was wiped from the books. It was all rather sad. Rather than dwell on the past we should look to the future which is rather bright if you enjoy your cycling. On the track Team GB has an exciting crop of youngsters challenging the established stars, whilst on the road we have a growing host of world class riders, both male and female, to challenge in one day and stage races. As we look forward to 2013 I feel excited at the prospects for British riders in all three of the grand tours, and not just challenging for the overall GC jersey.

Some fantastic cycling in Mallorca, the Pyrenees and across various parts of the UK has also made 2012 a memorable year. My time-trialling activities have all but petered out, a loss of interest as I gravitate toward longer sportive-style rides. For me, the true excitement comes abroad, and the Etape this year was the most challenging of rides. Whilst I have no real interest in the 2013 Etape, the Maratona looks like a beautiful challenge to base my year round. I am looking forward to it all
Totals for December
Distance ridden: 255km
Total ascent: 1850m

Total Figures for 2012
Distance ridden: 7755km
Total ascent: 80,700
Best ride: The Trossachs Ton sportive was probably my best performance, a great ride on some splendid roads, but finishing the Etape on a day when the weather did its best to make it impossible for so many riders was the most satisfying achievement

December 21st: the End of the World!

I imagine many of you will have been glued to the television last Sunday evening as the BBC rolled out the annual SPOTY awards. After a stellar 2012, no less than 3 cyclists were up for the main award, and Team GB/Sky boss Dave Brailsford was there again hoping to walk off with the coach of the year gong. When the phone lines finally opened at about 9.30 it was a frustrating 15 minutes before my vote for Wiggo was finally registered (I can only think that many will have given up as the lines were so busy, not sure this was a bright idea by the Beeb to restrict the period when phone votes were being registered). The result was never really in question (was it?) and, sure enough, Bradley was the clear winner with nigh on half a million votes. His acceptance speech reminded us that this was, after all, a personality competition and, for a change, a personality did actually win. Oh, and Dave Brailsford DID win the coach of the year. Once again, cycling is at the forefront of the British sporting psyche.

When the Mayans started their calendar some 5125 years ago, little did we realise just how important December 21st 2012 would turn out to be. There have been some pretty pessimistic predictions this week that today would indeed be the end of the world as we know it. Actually, all it has done today is rain a lot. Much like most other days in 2012 in fact. To celebrate the end of the world I did venture out on my trusty Ribble in said rain, enjoying a rather quiet 55km ride through the damp and grey Cheshire countryside. What did surprise me was that there was hardly a breath of wind. I had rather expected tempestuous stormy gales as the world came to an end, but it was all rather peaceful. Arriving back home I was disappointed that the world was still with us as it meant I had to wash my bike, filthy now after splashing through numerous floods and deep muddy puddles after the heavy rains. But at least it does mean I can ride the Maratona next year.

December 3rd

2012 has turned full circle and we seem to be back where we left off in January. That is, freezing conditions with little opportunity to head out on the bike. My rowing machine is my friend at the moment, keeping me in trim as I gaze out on beautiful snow-clad Lake District hills, ice underfoot (or under tyre), and temperatures barely above freezing even in the middle of the day. No, it's time to leave the bike at home and head out for the fells with my walking boots and rucksack. The Lake District is a wonderful playground at this time of year if you're prepared to venture high and it didn't take long for me to find some snow yesterday, on Blencathra, high above Keswick. On a day when the wind was non-existent and the sun shone from morn till dusk it was the prefect antidote to those winter blues which have a habit of setting in at this time of year. The bike can wait, there will be another day.

Talking of bikes, I have bitten the bullet and hammered my credit card. An early Christmas present? Perhaps, but it did seem too good an offer to turn down. Heavily discounted deals on bikes can be found at this time of year, and my search for a new sportive-ready steed, complete with Di2 to smooth those gear changes led me to the Trek Domane. Good reviews lured me in, and though other bikes gave it a good run for its money, the Domane got my vote. Its unique seatpost suspension system makes it theoretically ideal for sportive riding, promising a level of comfort which should exceed even that offered by my Synapse these past three summers. Not that the Synapse is all done, I like it far too much to part with it. It still has a place in my collection as I ride in both Cheshire and Cumbria. Having finally picked up the new Trek a couple of weeks back I picked a dry day and had a (brief) 50 mile outing round the Cheshire lanes to test it. What a joy it was. The Di2 lived up to my expectations and it was soo so comfortable. All it needs is a wheel upgrade and the package will be complete. I have already ordered a set of deep-section clinchers as my Christmas present, I can't wait till Team GeriAtrics head for Girona in the spring where I can give it a real test.

So, November has come and gone. A few decent rides punctuated what was a bogging awful wet month. The roads round us are now so clarty with mud and debris that the bikes need constant cleaning if I can ever venture out. Club riders will no doubt castigate me as I have yet to fit some winter mudguards, but as many of my rides are solo that scarcely matters. When Helen and I headed out with Pete and Sharon last weekend (on a mercifully dry sunny day) we all enjoyed the opportunity to ride and scarcely cared about such social niceties as mudguards. Perhaps the fact that I often rode at the back out of courtesy helped!
Totals for November
Distance ridden: 505km
Total ascent: 4400m

November 22nd

As I gaze out of the window and watch yet more rain fall I find myself wondering whether it might not be easier to row a boat than ride a bike? 2012 has been quite a year. As news of floods is breaking across the whole of the UK (again) it is tempting to consider moving abroad. But the UK does have so much to offer, I don't really feel I want to abandon her just yet. Living on the fringes of the Lake District it is easy to take our local countryside for granted. Last weekend Paul and I rode out of the front gate and took in 140 kilometres of first class tarmac (well, apart from the odd potholes). Riding south past Bassenthwaite Lake, down into the Lorton Valley and climbing the wooded slopes of Whinlatter Pass, with the sun trying its best to break through, and a sniff of a tailwind, it felt good to be riding in our fair country. Speeding down the eastern side of Whinlatter and then back along Bassenthwaite before changing tack and heading out to the Solway Coast where the wind whipped up the waves on a high tide and the seas beat over the coast road in a frenzy. It was wild and exciting, and the views were typically Cumbrian. As the light faded we finally rolled our way back up the lane and home, tired but satisfied after a cracking day on the bikes. And the best thing is that the enthusiasm such a ride engenders is like a huge pick-me-up. After a summer like 2012 has offered it was just what the doctor ordered.

And I have no doubt that elsewhere in the UK the story is the same. Our countryside is so varied, and whilst you may not have our mountains, or perhaps the coastline, every county has its own qualities that makes it special. Take the time to get out and explore, and enjoy what your local roads have to offer. You won't be disappointed.

November 1st

October has proved to be a very interesting month in the cycling world. After what has seemed an eternity USADA have finally come out and delivered their damning verdict on the Armstrong years and this, in turn, has been sanctioned by the UCI. All of which has left much of the cycling fraternity shell-shocked by the enormity of it all. I suspect many of us have had their suspicions but this goes far beyond that. On a personal basis I was left feeling hugely disappointed and let down by the actions of someone who has been a hero to so many people. Here was someone who inspired thousands to go and ride a bike, to go that extra mile and yet.... So much of it has been a lie according to the USADA verdict. No doubt the ramifications of this will rumble on for many months, if not years, yet. But, in a year which has seen British success in the Tour de France as well as some stunning Olympic performances, it is to be hoped that cycling will continue to grow in popularity and that people will keep it all in perspective. I, for one, am convinced that cycling is a much fairer sport than it has been, and that people will continue to dip their toe in and start to enjoy what is an all-embracing sport.

October has come and gone, and 2012 is slipping away. Now the clocks have changed and opportunities to get out on the bike are fewer. Time, then, to look forward with some urgency to projects for 2013. Already it is taking shape and the big ride for 2013 WILL be the Maratona dles Dolomites, at the end of June. Exciting? Oh yes. It has been on my list for a number of years and, thanks to Cycling Weekly, I have managed to secure a ride next year. Training starts here! Ahead of that Team Geri-Atrics are having their normal spring sunshine getaway, and Girona is indeed our destination. And, with a rather more leisurely slant, Helen and I are planning a trip to the Netherlands, for a biking tour with some friends. Despite few opportunities it has been possible to catch a few hours on the bike over the last month, and significantly Helen has got back on her bike after breaking her finger in August. A weekend in Yorkshire gave me the opportunity to have another dig at the climb of Cragg Vale, England's longest hillclimb (and set a PB!), a ride which finished in a downpour and the most vibrant double rainbow I think I've ever seen.

Footnote: Now the long evenings are with us the indoor rower is seeing some serious action again in an attempt to maintain some aerobic fitness. So far I have managed a healthy 7'30 for 2000m, respectable enough I feel. Check out your local gym and see if they have rowing machines - I can certainly recommend them for all-round fitness. Give it a go!
Totals for October
Distance ridden: 495km
Total ascent: 4240m

October 9th

As we ease into Autumn and the nights draw in it is becoming increasingly difficult to get out after work. Ironically we have enjoyed some more settled weather this last week or so and it would be rude not to have got out to savour it. A sneaky hour this evening, getting hopme as the last vestiges of daylight leaked from the sky, was certainly a case in point. No wind, a beautiful sunset and dry roads made for a most enjoyable hour on the bike. And Sunday morning was so clear and sunny as I headed into the Lake District hills for a couple of hours before joining Paul to watch our beloved Carlisle United in the afternoon warmth. And last Thursday, my day off coincided with another nice day (very unusual) and I was able to point the bike in the direction of Llangollen and the Horseshoe Pass for a rather fine 120km ride.

My thoughts are now directed very much toward next year and just what might turn out to be another epic year of cycling. Team Geri-Atrics are plotting a return to mainland Spain for our spring getaway, maybe sampling the delights of Girona north of Barcelona - after all, if it's good enough for the pros then it must be good enough for us. And it rather looks as if I will be riding the Maratona dles Dolomites come next June which is more than exciting. An ambition fulfilled if it comes to fruition, courtesy of Cycling Weekly who run a trip to the sportive. This rather means I will have to pay some serious attention to my training over the winter as it will be no cake-walk. Suddenly 2013 looks quite exciting.

Fastest bike change On a more fun note, caught this video recently and felt it worth sharing. This just has to be the most amazing bike change ever - I've watched it time and again and still can't believe it!

Totals for September
Distance ridden: 776km
Total ascent: 6250m

September 27th: Scottish sunshine

So many sportive rides now seem to make a conscious effort to be bigger, better, harder, bolder... Sometimes it is rather pleasant to be able to ride a sportive where it is not about how fast, high hard or how high you ride, rather it is the journey itself which makes the whole experience so pleasurable. I have to say that, for me, the Lochaber 100 was that ride. It is certainly not the most challenging sportive I've ridden, nor the longest. In fact at just 157 kilometers and with "only" 1200m of climbing it may not appeal to many sportivists at first glance. Which is a pity since the thing this ride does have is scenery. In abundance. The route is basically a circuit of the Ardnamurchan peninsula, west of Fort William and Loch Linnhe in the Scottish Highlands, heading out west along the Road to the Isles to Glenfinnan (Harry Potter country) and then turning south on a winding country road through Glenuig and Salen to the pretty village of Strontian and lunch. This road, the only road, continues over Glen Tarbert with some amazing mountain scenery unfolding all the while before turning north, the giant lump of Ben Nevis now directly ahead, and back to Loch Eil and home. I would defy anyone to get lost - there are only two junctions to negotiate on the entire route, one left turn and one right turn. The climbs, such as they are, are not steep, not long (though one stretches on for about 5km), but they do test the legs whilst the downhills are simply enjoyable. This was the first time this sportive has been run, coming from the Drumlanrig stable it has pedigree. It is a shame so few people chose to ride it, but that in a way was actually a strength as it was very much like a club run. Enjoying the company of fellow riders isn't always possible on so many sportives, but here it was the norm as everyone took time to enjoy the scenery and the companionship of fellow riders.

Paul and I set out in sea mist rolling in off Loch Linnhe, with temperatures just above freezing and the first half hour was spent battling the cold until, quite suddenly the road rose out of the mist and into fine autumn sunshine. The day was transformed and from here on in the scenery took over. This was Paul's first hundred mile ride since the 2011 Marmotte and his legs were struggling a wee bit with the terrain and distance, but we weren't in a hurry and eased out way round the route. Feed stations were chatty, friendly places, with plenty of water and food on hand - too much almost. I commented that this may be the first sportive I've ridden where I would finish weighing more than at the start. By the finish I had taken more photos than ever on such a sportive, but it would have been rude not to. And whilst we weren't the fastest finishers (a couple of riders did choose to blast round), we did at least see the scenery at its very best. Would I ride this again? Certainly. Just for good measure, and to prove his legs weren't totally battered by his efforts on the Saturday, Paul and I bagged a cheeky Munro on the way home on the Sunday. All in all, a totally enjoyable weekend in the Scottish sunshine.

So far this month has been quite enjoyable on the bike, notwithstanding some awful weather. I took a gentle spin out yesterday taking in the delights of the Solway coast on a day when the sun was shining and I was able to wear shorts despite the impending autumnal feel to the air. There was so much water everywhere, and a couple of floods to negotiate. I am beginning to wonder whether the summer we have just 'enjoyed' is becoming the norm and we will just have to get used to rain, wind and the rest. God, I hope not! Hopefully, Helen and I will get out this weekend, it will be her first ride since breaking her finger some weeks ago, but it is nicely on the mend now. A pleasant coffee stop and some bright sunshine would be rather nice. Please!

September 12th: Tour of Britain comes to town

It is some 6 or 7 years since Carlisle hosted a stage of the Tour of Britain, and we were long overdue a repeat visit. The organisers duly delivered with the stage start of Stage 4, a mad dash down through Cumbria to a sprint finish in Blackpool.Determined to be part of it, I took the day off work, primarily with the aim of seeing the peloton off from Carlisle. Then, I thought, why not head down to Shap and see them on the climb. Finally it dawned on me that it wasn't that much further to then make a dash down the motorway and catch the finish at Blackpool. Well, it was a plan!

Sadly the weather was not as clement as it might have been and there was drizzle in the air as I met up with Paul to play the groupie and go in search of our British cycling stars. Cav and Wiggo left it late before finally rolling up to the start, Cav particularly resplendent in the World Chapions jersey. Before that we enjoyed the camaraderie of the crowd, in jovial mood despite the weather, and played the game of spot the cyclist/TV pundit/team manager with growing enthusiasm. It was all great fun. Finally 11am arrived and the riders were on their way, though many of them stopped in the first kilometer, grabbing a sneaky comfort break behind the castle before they headed out of town. I bid Paul farewell (he was back to work sadly) and headed out to the M6 for the short drive south to Shap. By now the rain was coming down harder, much harder. It was decidedly unpleasant. The crowds on Shap Fell were amazing, waiting patiently for a glimpse of the riders as they toiled up this category 2 climb. We didn't have long to wait and a breakaway group of 6 riders came by, Kristian House prominent in his bid for the KOM jersey. They already had a 6 minute lead over the main bunch and were not hanging about. The cheers ringing in their ears they continued into the rain. A flurry of motorcycle consorts announced the imminent arrival of the peloton, with Orica Greenedge and Team Sky sharing the work, Wiggo and Cav safely in the front few riders as they began the climb. For these guys I imagine they hardly break sweat and no doubt have little need to change down from the big ring. Respect.

From Shap it is about an hour down the M6 to Blackpool. Well, it would be were it not for the hundreds of cars pouring off Shap Fell as spectators made their way home. And, of course, the rain didn't help. Despite all that, by 2pm I was rolling into Blackpool, looking for somewhere to park. The riders were behind schedule, so I would be in plenty of time to find a suitable vantage point and wandered onto the prom in search of the finish. As it was directly beneath the tower it wasn't that hard to find. The crowds were a bit of a giveaway too. Team buses littered the road, ready for their tired charges at the end of the race. The sheer number of fans made watching the finish both impractical and difficult, so I headed back along the course looking for a better vantage point. By the time I was a couple of hundred metres away the crowds were gone, this was much better. Eventually I picked my spot, some 600 metres from the finish and settled down to wait. Would it be a sprint finish, or could the breakaway survive. The answer wasn't long coming as Wiggo headed the speeding group down the prom, charging headlong for the finish. Cav was sitting 3rd wheel, ready for his final effort, with the rest of the sprinters lining up behind him. I had the chance of a single shot and grabbed my photo opportunity before dashing back down to the finish line to find out just who had won. It was, of course, Cav winning his second stage in 2 days. And he took the overall lead to boot, much to the sheer enjoyment of the crowd as he pulled on the gold jersey. Cracking finish to a wonderfully exciting day following the race.

On the bike I have been able to grab a few decent rides in the last fortnight, with a particularly enjoyable foray into the Welsh mountains last week to ride the Shelf and Horseshoe passes. No records, but the weather played ball which in this summer of summers was very welcome. Nearer to home in Cumbria Paul and I have been mounting a concerted joint effort to improve our placings on a number of local Strava segments, I'm sure some would say we should get out more! We are now but a week away from the Lochaber 100 sportive up in Fort William which looks to be a rather enjoyable route. And it won't be long before Helen is back on her bike after breaking her finger last month.

August 31st: Vuelta Test

It has been an amazing month or so for British Cycling. Hot on the heels of winning the Tour de France Wiggo followed it up with a gold medal in the Olympic Time Trial, Chris Froome chipping in with a fine bronze, and then the track team surpassed the Beijing performance by sweeping up 7 of the 10 gold medals on offer, and medalling in all but one event. Now we are enjoying an incredibly close Vuelta Espana, with 4 riders contending for the overall, separated by a minute or so after nearly 2 weeks of stunning racing. Joaquim Rodriguez has been the star so far with some opportunist finishes to grab valuable time bonuses (always a bit contentious in these grand tours), whilst Chris Froome has shadowed him all the way. Alberto Contador is looking strong too, fresh after his recent return to competition following his ban. Alejandro Valverde has bagged a couple of stages too and is still in the mix. This race might well go down to the wire.

On the bike, August has been a mixed month, with yet again plenty of rain to contend with. No trips abroad this month, so it has been a return to riding the Cumbrian hills and a foray over to Llangollen and the eponymous Horseshoe Pass. Yet again Strava is proving to be my inspiration, providing motivation on climbs and descents alike. Helen and I managed a ride out to the splendid cycle-friendly Bluebell Inn at Halkyn, near Flint, before she came a cropper on our return leg, coming down and unfortunately breaking a finger. She is out of action for a few weeks now, all very frustrating as we were planning to ride the Eureka Cafe social ride next month. I find my attention being drawn to next year now as I try and consider what might be my goal for 2013. As yet I have no definitive answer, though the Marmotte is a serious consideration. The Dolomites and Italian Alps are a draw too. Watch this space.
Totals for August
Distance ridden: 731km
Total ascent: 8495m

August 1st: Olympic Gold

Just over a week after his glorious success in the world's toughest bike race Bradley Wiggins has done it again. In another superlative performance he left the rest of the field behind, winning the Olympic time trial by a massive 42 seconds. With Chris Froome riding brilliantly for third place to earn a well deserved bronze medal it left British cycling once again celebrating a fine day. Only Tony Martin was able to split the British pair with a gutsy ride after his recent injuries. Now we have but a short time to wait for the track cycling to get underway and who knows what that might bring.

July has been an interesting month on the bike. The Etape was an amazing experience - tough, rewarding, satisfying in the extreme, with the most glorious finishing downhill. Since then my riding has been decidedly more relaxed, spurred on by the motivation that comes from Strava. The weather continues to be somewhat mixed, I suspect that July has not been much better than June for rain and lack of sunshine. Still we wait for summer to arrive. With no real target now that the Etape is behind me Paul and I have entered the Lochaber 100 in September, a rather fine looking course round the Ardnamurchan Peninsula in Scotland. I am looking forward to it.
Totals for July
Distance ridden: 1055km
Total ascent: 13015m

July 22nd: Wiggins wins the Tour de France

It really doesn't get any better than this. Suddenly being a cycling fan is cool, it's headline news on TV, radio and even in the papers. And I really do have to pinch myself repeatedly. Britain has its first ever winner of the Tour de France. And the hero is Bradley Wiggins, an unassuming kid from Kilburn who just happens to be very good when he rides his bike. In the mould of the great Miguel Indurain, Bradley based his supremacy in the 2012 Tour on his amazing time-trialling ability and then he and his team, particularly his trusty lieutenant Chris Froome, who also had a wonderful Tour, defended the time gains in the mountains as the other contenders tried and failed to steal some of that time back. In the end only Vicenzo Nibali challenged and that faded as the race went on. By the end there were two riders head and shoulders above the rest, both British and riding for a British team. And let's not forget the other team members. In no particular order Bernie Eisel, Christian Knees, Michael Rogers, Mark Cavendish, Edvald Boassen Hagen, Richie Porte and Kanstantsin Sivtsov all played their part. It is, after all, a team sport and no individual rider will win this race without having a good team to back him up.

As the race has unfolded over the last 3 weeks I suspect that British cycling fans have been through a whole range of emotions. From the first day when Wiggins laid down a marker by finishing 2nd in the Prologue; a week later when he took yellow, never to relinquish it, on the first summit finish in the Vosges; that moment when Chris Froome seemed to put him in trouble in the Alps; the "battle" with Vicenzo Nibali which never actually materialised; the amazing way he cemented his victory in the long second time trial; and leading out the Sky Train under the kilometer kite onto the Champs-Elysées to set up Mark Cavendish for that historic fourth consecutive Paris victory. It has been a tour of superlatives. Chris Froome deserves full recognition, in my view, for his own dedication to the cause. There are those who argue that he might have won the tour himself. Whilst I feel that is doubtful as, to do so, he would need to be riding on a different team and I suspect he wouldn't be the same rider elsewhere, there is no doubt that his riding throughout the 3 weeks has made Wiggins' victory possible. Together they have been immovable as others have tried to roll them over. First Evans cracked, then Nibali too fell by the wayside and, in truth, there were no other serious contenders. The time gaps are massive. To win the tour by such margins is not unprecedented, but in recent years we have got used to close encounters with seconds really counting. Not this year. So let's celebrate long and hard. The Olympics hold some serious promise (time will tell if that is well placed optimism), but let's bask for the next week in the sun that is shining on British cycling.

July 14th: 2012 Etape du Tour (Acte II): The Circle of Death!

I had no illusions ahead of the Etape. I knew it would be tough. I wasn't disappointed. A 200 kilometer ride over terrain that is designed to sort the wheat from the chaff was never going to be easy. The threat of a broom wagon hot on your heels is a great motivator, but it was still something of an unknown. How would it go?

My stay with the Pyractif team was all too brief, flying out on Wednesday for just 3 days. As I sat on the train speeding toward the Pyrenees from Toulouse the rain came steadily down. Not a good omen. Thursday morning was grey with a promise of sun. I rode out with an Aussie guest, Andrew, and we rode the D26 round to Arreau and a saunter up the Peyresourde. By the time we hit the slopes of this cat 1 col the sun was out and it was a glorious morning. This was what riding in the Pyrenees is all about. Maybe Saturday would be ok...

Friday was registration day, Chris and Helen drove us 10 etapists over to Pau where we headed for the Etape Village. The process was smooth and quick, and painless. We now had event numbers, goody bag and a t-shirt. The village is also full of cycling porn, a chance to part with money on cycling related souvenirs. It would be rude not to... By the time we got back to Pyractif base in Bertren and enjoyed a quick 25km legspin on the bikes David Millar was storming to a great stage victory. Inspiration for us ahead of an early night and an even earlier start on Saturday.

Etape Day dawned, but we were up long before and breakfasting in lycra. Chris arrived champing at the bit at 4.30 and we were soon heading for the autoroute in the drizzle. The forecast was fair, with sunny spells, and dry too. Many of us opted for not taking rain capes, relying on gilet and arm-warmers. Hopefully we wouldn't live to regret it. Shortly after 6 we were unloading in the outskirts of Pau and making our final preparations, Chris and Helen fussing round us making sure we had everything and were good to go. Then we were riding, joining the masses of fellow cyclists heading for the Place Verdun in the city centre. This was it then.

The pens were buzzing with expectation. Estimates of up to 8000 riders may or may not be accurate – there were a lot, and Tim and I rolled into pen number 5, somewhere in the middle of the throng, and set about waiting for the clock to roll round to 7am. It wasn't cold, but it was very overcast. No need for rain jackets yet! As the clock struck 7 the first riders were away to a cheer. This was it. The next pen was released, then the next. Finally it was out turn, the clock now showing 7.15. The broom wagon was still 45 minutes away, good!

At 7.18 Tim and I rolled over the timing mat and our Etape du Tour had begun. Luchon, here we come. Suddenly all those months of preparation, the miles of riding, the hours on the rower, all were about to bear fruit (or so I hoped). Tim and I held a steady pace as we rode south, bound for Laruns. The first 40km is undulating, heading steadily up the valley into the mountains, but not hard. We found a couple of good groups and benefitted from the drafting. Laruns soon came into view, only 80 minutes into the ride. We were going well. Now, however, the road went up and the nature of the ride was about to change.

The Col d'Aubisque is an HC (hors catégorie) monster, rising for 16km to 1709m. Slow and steady was my watchword, I waved goodbye to Tim and set about riding my own race from hereon in. As the road climbed so the cloud thickened and soon there was a drizzle in the air. Riders passed me, I passed others, up and up we went. By the time I came to Gourette (and the first feed station) it was proper rain. And I was now well soaked. My gilet was proving woefully ineffective (no surprise there, it's not designed for this) and my arm-warmers were soaked. I was getting cold, in spite of the efforts of riding up this mountain. The summit is 4km further on and was in thick cloud/fog. The views on a good day are awesome. Not today. The problem with being wet is that descents get very cold very quickly. By the time I began the short climb to the Col de Soulor I was freezing and needed a plan.

There is a café atop the Soulor and, as I rode through the cheering crowds, I dived off the road and headed into the café to beg some plastic bags. The proprietress handed me 2 binliners which I gratefully accepted and proceeded to line under my jersey. This might just make the difference over the next 20km which were all downhill. The descent off the Soulor is normally thoroughly enjoyable. Not today. Some livestock near the top made it interesting, and the wet roads necessitated caution, though they were grippy enough. In seemingly no time I was cruisinbg down into Argelés and the relative warmth of the valley enveloped me again. Recovery time. Here the route turns south, bound for the Col du Tourmalet, highest point of the Etape and, indeed, this years Tour de France. I do believe the sun was trying to come out at this point, though it might have been my imagination. There were plenty of riders around and it was easy to get into a group and rest a bit as we headed into the Gorge de Luz, a steady ramp up through the spectacular goge to Luz St Sauveur, start of the climb up the Tourmalet, the crux of the whole route. Crack the Tourmalet and the worst was done.

Easier said than done, however. The Tourmalet is a long, long climb and I struggled seemingly painfully slowly upwards. Riders were passing me right and left, but I plodded on. Above Baréges the road ramps up for 2 interminably steep kilometers before easing into Superbaréges and a very welcome feed station. Here Billy rode in alongside me and we exchanged horror stories. It was refreshing to hear a friendly voice and take on some calories. Suitably revitalised we both headed back on to the climb, and up into the cloud. And the rain. The last couple of kilometers were painfully slow as I fought off cramps and felt the drizzle infiltrating once again. The summit was thick cloud and rain was now falling. It was cold. And worse, there follows an 18km descent from well over 2000m. This was not going to be fun.

With hands that were numb with cold, roads that were wet, and visibility less than perfect, I started off down the descent. At La Mongie the road was liberally spread with a river of Llama shit, gendarmes frantically signalling riders to slow down as we rode through it. Below La Mongie, the cloud seemed to thicken and the rain get colder. I was braking almost permanently trying to find the balance between descending quickly, but not too quickly that the cold became unbearable. After 30 agonising minutes I was finally down in St Marie de Campan, and yet another feed. I decided not to stop, reasoning that keeping going straight on to the climb of the Aspin would be the best way to get warm again. This, for me, was the best climb of the day. Suddenly I found some energy (not a lot), and I now knew that I would make it. The worst climbs were behind me, I only had 2 Cat 1 climbs to go, and the broom wagon was miles behind me. Just keep riding...

Again, the top part of the climb was in cloud, and the drizzle was in the air, but not in quite the same way as on the previous cols. And the descent off the Aspin was dry. It was great. Time to enjoy the ride, at last. It is a technical delight as the road sweeps down the mountainside, with hairpin after hairpin to savour. All too soon I was down in Arreau, and there was Sarah, a Pyractif angel standing at the side of the road with a smile and water, bananas and energy bars. Just what was needed with one more climb to go.

The Col de Peyresourde. Well, here I was again. On Thursday I had sailed up here in a PB time. Today was a little different. Slow, plodding, ponderous. If only I could have been that quick! And the rain returned. It was painful, cramps were threatening to burst out, and my energy levels were falling. I pedalled on, and slowly but surely the summit came nearer. Finally, I crested the col and all that separated me now from the Etape finish was the 15km descent to Luchon. The clock was ticking, and I was flying. The rain stopped, the roads were suddenly dry and descending the Col de Peyresourde on closed roads is an absolute joy. Within 15 minutes I was turning onto the main street in Luchon, the crowds were cheering as I pounded up the last kilometer and the finish beckoned me. Finally, after 10 hours, 40 minutes and 45 seconds I stuttered over the finish line and gratefully accepted the medal that was thrust over my head. I had done it, ridden the 2012 Etape du Tour (Acte II). And it was bloody tough!

Just for the record, some 8000 registered for the event, the organisers have a figure of 4700 starters, though most were of the impression that there were rather more. Only 3829 finished, 3 of those outside the time limit. All of which leaves me pretty satisfied with my final overall position of 2465th.
Garmin data for 2012 Etape

July 12th: Tapering

As events in the Tour de France take an interesting turn in the Alps, with Wiggins and Froome strengthening their grip on the race, I have arrived here in the Pyrenees ahead of Saturday's Etape Acte II. Amazingly, the sun has today put in an appearance and spirits have risen a notch or two. With just two sleeps until the roll out on Saturday morning it is clearly time to taper, as the accepted wisdom would have it. Having been cheated by bad weather when we were here in May, and with the promise of some blue skies today I decided to fly in the face of that wisdom and take a spin out and over the Col de Peyresourde (in May it was 5 degrees, snow, driving rain and wind). Have to say it seems a good call, I was joined by an Aussie, Andrew, staying out here with Pyractif, and we had a wonderful ride. Watching the eagles soar and the kites swoop in the fields was fantastic as we cruised round to picturesque Arreau, and then tapped up the valley to the foot of the Peyresourde. Now on the Etape route, the signage was in evidence ahead of the weekend and it felt reassuring to be recce-ing the last kilometers of the Etape route. As for the climb itself, it was wonderful. The mountain scenery was perfect chocolate box material, and the slight tail wind made it all the more enjoyable. Despite attempts to reign myself in I found myself topping out in a personal best time of just over 47 minutes - amazing. Andrew and I dived into the summit cafe for coffee and crepes (well, you have to don't you?) before the speedy descent down to Luchon, so much more enjoyable than the torrid ride in May. Here I met up with another Pyractif etapist, Joan, who had been riding with us in May, and we enjoyed a cheeky beer and exchanged pace notes. By the time I had ridden back down the valley it was a 100km day, with some 1500m of climbing. Yep, that's what I call tapering!

As for the Tour, it just gets better and better from a British perspective. Mindful of the fact that it can all so easily still go pear-shaped, it is beholden on all British cycling fans to savour the moment, day by day, as we have two Brit riders in the top two GC positions after 11 stages, ie at half way. And today we saw Cadel Evans crack on the final climb, which puts their efforts even more into perspective. It really is turning into an intriguing tour, with Vicenzo Nibali doing his best to spoil the party. The next 10 days promises to be a real nail-biter. Bring it on!
Garmin data for Col de Peyresourde ride

July 8th: Next stop, the Etape

This last week has been signifcant for British cycling as Brad Wiggins has assumed the mantle of Tour favourite AND has taken the yellow jersey after the first proper mountain stage of this year's race. The whole nation now holds its breath as we dare to believe that we might, just might witness something special and see a British winner of the Tour de France for the first time. With Cav struggling in the green jersey competition it does seem to allow Team Sky more freedom to concentrate totally on Wiggins. 2012 just might be the year.

June turned out to be the wettest June EVER. Think we all knew that before they told us, but I guess it's nice that they confirmed what our wet, dirty bikes and kit were telling us. The idea of riding late into June in full winter gear is simply not right. And yet we may have to get used to it.

It is now less than a week til the Etape, Act II. The Tourmalet and Aubisque await us and my heart skips a beat every now and again in anticipation. There really isn't much more to do now. I really don't feel I have enough long rides in the bag this year, but I have managed a few short, sharp hilly rides 2 or 3 times a week of late and feel that I am probably as ready as I can be. Time will tell. All that remains now is to pack the bike, check the kit I'm taking with me and head off for the airport come ednesday. My next ride will be in the Pyrenees on Thursday, and I am looking forward to it. I have broken the Ertape down into a series of chunks, working out timings for each, taking into account the fatigue as the day wears on and trying not to be too optimistic. The broom wagon may welll be busy this year, it looks a tough call for a lot of the 10000 riders to beat the 12 hour 49 minute cut off, especially as a lot of them will be starting just in front of it. For me, goal number one will be to finish. After that I would love to make it to Luchon inside 11 hours, we shall have to see how optimistic that is. Meeting up with old acquaintances (Tim, Steve, Joan...) will be good and, who knows, we just might enjoy ourselves on the day.

Today, by contrast, has been a thoroughly enjoyable day on the bike. Helen and I, joined by Pete and Sharon and friend Mel, headed into Chester and set out on the Chester-Liverpool bike ride, a sportive with a twist as it allows the participants to ride through the Mersey Tunnel into Liverpool. I admit to having been quite excited by the prospect. Despite some dire weather predictions it turned out to be a lovely day and the team headed up the Wirral to Birkenhead before plunging into the murky depths of gthe Queensway tunnel, emerging some 10 minutes later into the dazzling Liverpudlian sunshine. To return we hopped aboard the Ferry across the Mersey and trundled back down the Wirral, stoppin g for a well-earned brew and cake at the wonderful Eureka Café. The final leg was along the River Dee cyclepath into the heart of Chester, just getting back home ahead of the rain. Great day.
Totals for June
Distance ridden: 652km
Total ascent: 6590m

June 17th: Trossachs Ton and other things

First things first. Never before has Cav won a stage race. Whilst the Ster ZLM Toer GP may not set the world alight in the same way as the Tour de France, it's only a step down from the likes of the Tour de Suisse or Tour de Romandie, and he has taken out some impressive riders, notably Lars Boom and his own teammate Juan Antonio Flecha. And unlike his great rivals, Greipel and Renshaw, he stayed the course. It has been a mighty impressive performance from the Manx Missile.

After a couple of weeks of weather which has seemed more like February than flaming June, the weekend of the Trossachs Ton has finally come round, my last sportive ride before E-day, now just four weeks away. Getting rides in between the showers, and indeed longer downpours, has not been easy. I have to say the Strava has been very motivational as I have found myself riding out to test myself on climbs that I might not have otherwise done. Unfortunately about a week ago I managed to jar my upper body, whiplash style, when out walking, not recommended and extremely uncomfortable for a few days. Even last Thursday a 2 hour ride was so uncomfortable I began to wonder if I would be able to ride the Ton. As it was I did, and surpassed my own expectations. The rain fell all night and I awoke fearing the worst, but miraculously it stopped just minutes before I began my ride, a bit late, at 8.40. Although billed as a "ton" it actually falls slightly short of the 100 mile mark, but it is still a cracking ride, taking in two new iconic climbs for me, Duke's Pass, and the Crow Road. Something to look forward to. It also includes the quiet roads round Loch Katrine, in the heart of the Trossachs. The challenge had been laid down to me a week ago - ride the event in under 6 hours. Seemed churlish not to give it a go.

The first 10 miles or so are pan flat, and I do mean "pan flat". The road west out of Stirling follows the fertile valley floor north of the Campsie Fells and there is scarcely a rise in the road for mile after a mile. Truth be told, it was a tad tedious. Eventually it started to roll and get a bit more interesting. I was resisting the urge to go hell for leather from the start, it was a 98 mile ride after all, with plenty of climbing to come. Wise move. By the time the route reached Aberfoyle and the split between 100k and 100 mile routes, I was just ahead of schedule for a sub-6 hour ride. However, immediately out of Aberfoyle is Dukes Pass and suddenly the average speed was plummeting. And the midge count was rising sharply. The road winds up through forest to the pass, reducing wind and increasing humidity. They were in your face, in your eyes, in your ears. Fortunately I was togged up in full winter gear (it was about 11 degrees) so at least it was only from my neck up that I was suffering, but I do hate the pesky blighters. From Duke's Pass the road winds down to the start of Loch Katrine, and the first feed station. I opted to stop, albeit for only a few minutes, and by now I was just behind schedule. This was going to be tricky.

The road along the north shores of Loch Katrine is quite delightful, following the loch quite closely, and by now the clouds were lifting a bit so the views up the Loch were more than pretty. It also has the advantage of being pretty much traffic free for some 12 miles or so, fantastic. Eventually we reached the head of the loch and turned to ride south-east. Suddenly the persistent headwind that had been my companion for the last 40 miles was behind me. Yippee. This was better. I also picked up with two other riders and we made efficient work of the 15 miles or so back to Aberfoyle where, sadly for me, they rolled into the feed station. I didn't. The route now turns south and heads inexorably toward the Campsie Fells, a long ridge of fine looking hills north of Glasgow. Our route was taking us right into them. That had to mean more climbing. Yep! But I was still just about on schedule.

After my second stop at the third feed the road turned into a long draggy climb up into Campsie Glen by which time the rain had returned and I was getting wet all over again. At Lennoxtown, the route turns off the main road up the glen and starts the long climb of the Crow Road, a 5km drag taking us well over 1000 feet. In the rain. Gratifyingly I found this to be a comfortable climb and whilst I wasn't setting any records I was passing literally scores and scores of tired looking riders. Paying the price for a frantic start perhaps. I still felt quite strong, justifying my early pace-setting. The summit did not mark the end of the climbing as our route then plunged down before rising again... and again, taking us through the Campsie Fells headed for Stirling. The question now was just how much these draggy climbs would slow my average speed. Whilst I was now behind the 6-hour schedule, I had the benefit of a tailwind and the knowledge that, at some point, the route would have to plummet from over 200m in height to just 25m or so. Would it be enough? By now I was tiring, but I still felt strong enough and plugged away at each drag, taking advantage of the descents before, finally, the last climb was done and ahead was the long drop down into Stirling. It began to dawn on me that this was do-able, and I lifted my efforts once more. As I entered the last roundabout, the finish line in sight, I knew it was good enough and as I crossed the line and stopped the Garmin the figures told me what I wanted to see. 5 hours 57 minutes. Job done!!

In truth, it was a wonderful day on the bike. Hard, not without some anxieties at times, and the road surfaces made the riding very hard on the body (and the bike). But the scenery was beautiful, and the route wonderfully contrived to show the area to a willing eye. It would be nice to ride in the Trossachs again. And a final note, the event organisation was slick, the signage excellent all round, so a hearty thank you to them for making an old man very happy! I felt totally elated when I finished. Now I need to rest.
Garmin data for Trossachs Ton

May 28th: Tour of the Peak 2012

Following the 2012 Giro d'Italia has been a bit of a roller-coaster. We have seen the maglia rosa change shoulders on a number of occasions, and the final stage, a time trial in Milan, saw one last twist as Ryder Hesjedal finally tugged it back from Joaquim Rodriguez with a supreme TT effort. The winning margin was only 16 seconds, such a slender amount after 3 weeks of racing. The queen stage to the top of the Stelvio didn't disappoint either, I really must go and ride that climb one day. Soon. Saddest of all was seeing Mark Cavendish lose out on the points jersey by a single point, a "what-if" moment if ever there was one. Next year?

All this should have served to inspire me as I headed into Derbyshire on Sunday for the Wiggle Tour of the Peak sportive, a tough 98 mile challenge over a lot of hills. A lot. The weather was beautiful, such a contrast to last Sunday on the Col de Peyresourde in wind, rain and cold. The promise of temperatures in the mid twenties actually proved right for once, and it was wall-to-wall sunshine from start to finish. I have rarely enjoyed the luxury of riding a sportive without a waterproof but today a gilet was all that was necessary. And that didn't last too long.

The long route attracted some 381 finishers (I imagine there may have been more but they missed the 1 o'clock cut-off at the top of Winnats Pass and were channelled on to the shorter ride. In some ways they might have been glad. By then we had already endured Pyms Chair, the Cat & Fiddle and Winnats Pass itself, where the combination of cyclists weaving a tortuous way up the steep tarmac and a procession of cars trying to come down made it interesting at times. To be fair the drivers were more than understanding for the most part. In front of me a struggling rider weaved once too often and fell to the floor right under my wheel, forcing me off the bike. With a slope of 25% I opted for walking the final couple of hundred metres to the top. I made the cut-off with 20 minutes to spare and embarked on the remaining 56 miles with mixed feelings. Still a long way to go. Once over Mam Tor it was a steep fast descent into Edale and a chance for recovery and food as the road wound down the valley to Hope. By now the field was strung out and for a while I saw no riders. Was I on the right route. Next thing I was at the front of a small group of some 7 or 8 riders, all of whom seemed happy to sit on my wheel. Nice to know I am appreciated! From here the route swung back north, heading first for Snake Pass and then the fearsome Strines Moor with the impossible "Deliverance" climb. I opted for the "it's faster walking" option again.After the second feed, it seemed we had broken the back of this ride. All that remained was the little matter of Holme Moss, 1719 feet over the moors south of Holmfirth. A brute of a climb with fantastic views. And some crowds too, cheering riders to the summit. I grabbed a hapless bystander and persuaded them to take a quick snap of me at the summit before embarking on the fastest (and scariest due to the wind) descent of the day. The run down into Glossop seemed like the first time all day we had a decent tailwind, but this only brought the sting in the tail in the shape of the 10 miles or so down to the finish at Chapel, with 2 more leg-sapping draggy climbs. By now my legs were fried, and it was a real effort dragging them up and over these hills. Finally, there it was, the final descent and the event HQ hove into view. The finish line was a welcome sight. And at 7 hours 53 minutes, whilst not setting the world alight, it was a decent enough time – placing me 220th out of 381 finishers. Having lost 20 minutes en route with various stops I felt happy enough with that. As a staging post to the Etape in 7 weeks it served a real purpose. And it really had been a cracking day for a bike ride.
Garmin data for Tour of the Peak Totals for May
Distance ridden: 1003km
Total ascent: 13915m

May 26th: Riding the Pyrenees (stages 5 & 6)

And we thought the weather couldn't get worse. Sadly, we were wrong. Monday, a day full of promise, became the rest day. Well, if it's good enough for the Giro riders... The rain continued to fall pretty much all day and we felt cheated. We read magazines, watching cycling DVDs, rolled up to Luchon for lunch and souvenir shopping. In the end though what we really wanted was to ride our bikes.

Tuesday saw an improvement, it stopped raining. Still cold, and overcast, it was better than we dared hope. The aims for the day were varied but Paul and I reckoned on a revisit of Paul's nemesis, the Col de Menté to exorcise those demons from last week. So that's what we did. The other guys headed out for Spain, Paul and I saddled up and rode out bound for that old favourite, the Col des Ares. Paul rode it so much stronger than last week, we actually had a bit of a ding-dong race up with Paul beating me in the sprint for the line. That's more like it. Next up, the Col de Buret was all about riding hard to see just what sort of time I could set on the climb, never having done it properly before. We cruised down and into the Ger valley, bound for the foot of the Menté. The gloves were off now, Paul was looking feisty and up for it. I let him go, fiddling with my iPod. Much better to ride the climb in your own time, though I was hoping to possibly catch him. After a couple of minutes I was off and away. The climb was complete contrast to last Thursday, a 20 degree temperature difference. So much more pleasant. I tapped away on the pedals, hoping to see Paul but no sign. The village of Ger de Boutx came and went before, finally, there he was, a couple of hairpins ahead and riding well. There were about 6km to go and the clock was ticking. Slowly, slowly I reeled him in as the hairpins slipped by, but as we entered the trees on the final kilometer to the summit it became clear I wouldn't quite catch him – in the end it was down to about 20 seconds. Both of us had broken the hour for the climb, and the café was open (sort of). We sat over coffee and enjoyed reliving the climb, Paul's enthusiasm fully restored. Now the descent, which on damp roads was never going to be anything other than circumspect, but enjoyable nonetheless. From St Béat we rolled back down toward Bertren at a fair lick, before I turned left into the mountains once again for a final 20km flourish up to the foot of the Port de Balés, a handy extra workout. All in all a good day.

Wednesday dawned sunny and dry. We were going home. Typical. Just typical. There was time for one last hurrah, and I joined the boys and the overnight C2Cers who had stopped at Bertren on their traverse of the Pyrenees. They were off over the Col des Ares and it would be rude not to join them. So I did, enjoying a sprint victory for the summit against Tim and Scotty, though the time was far from sparkling. The descent to the foot of the Buret was fast and enjoyable before I turned about to retrace my steps, or pedals, and reclimb the Ares from the east (having never done it before). Fond goodbyes as the boys headed onward and I was on my own. I think, on balance, this side of the Col des Ares is nicer, slightly shorter but a bit more character. Either way it is a lovely climb to stretch the legs, and at 4 – 5% it can be ridden at tempo. The final descent and ride back to Bertren was tinged with sadness as another week here in the Pyrenees drew to a close, Chris and Helen's hospitality excellent as always. And I will be back in 7 weeks as the Etape looms. Just hope I've done enough.
Garmin data for Col de Menté ride Total Pyrenean mileage: 541km
Total Pyrenean climbing: 8303m

May 20th:Riding the Pyrenees (Stages 3 & 4)

When the weather is good the Pyrenees are a splendid place to ride your bike. When the weather turns it can be grim. I suspect we have had the best of the weather for our trip – not good. Day 3 in Bertren dawned less than promisingly but we're here to ride. Chris was heading west for the arrival of a group riding the Pyrenean C2C and had offered Paul, Joan and myself a lift to Bagneres de Bigorre, down the valley from the Tourmalet and Aspin. We could then ride home. Simple. For Joan it would be yet another step up, with a long Category 2 climb over the Aspin followed, potentially by the Peyresourde, weather permitting, a tough Cat 1 climb. As we rolled out of Bagneres, the drizzle heavy in the air but not yet falling, Ominousy the large road sign indicated that the Col du Tourmalet was "Fermé". By the time we reached Ste Marie de Campan we had already ridden uphill for some 12km and the climb of the Aspin hadn't even begun yet. We regrouped, checked our bidons and downed an energy bar before hitting the climb. The Col d'Aspin is really two climbs in one. The first 8k is a gentle roll up to Payolle, really no different from the previous 12, then the character changes as the road kicks up for the last 5k, through the trees, a series of hairpins and sweeping corners at a steady 8%. It's hard. Finally, the road climbs out of the trees into Pyrenean pasture – and cloud. No views today sadly. Briefly, climbing out of Payolle, I saw Paul not far behind, but that apart I rode the climb alone, pushing the pedals to the top. Bizarrely, despite the weather and leaden legs, it was a PB on this climb. Paul was close behind and we rode back down to find Joan and ride the last part of the climb with her. After the obligatory photos at the summit it was time to enjoy the long technical descent to Arreau, the headcam getting some airtime at last. The descent is quite possibly one of the most enjoyable in the Pyrenees, coaches and weaving cyclists notwithstanding, and briefly the sun came out. It didn't last. Down in Arreau we found THE open café, complete with miserable patron, and did coffee. The rain came. This was not going well. My plan was to ride the Peyresourde, Paul and Joan opted for the more scenic D26 route home, a wise choice as I found by the time I was 4km up the valley and the heavens were opening. A quick rethink and I was sailing back down to Arreau and proceeded to chase the other two down the valley. The D26 is a rolling, rather lovely little road round the Pyrenean foothills, even on a day like today a nice place to ride. We cruised the final kilometers back into Bertren where Ed, Steve, Tim and Scotty had arrived. The team was complete.

Sunday was even worse. The rain had come down all night and the prospects were poor. Joan had chosen a good day to leave, over breakfast we hatched a plan for the day. After yesterday's unfinished business on the Peyresourde everyone seemed happy with the idea of another sortie from Arreau. Ed and Paul were taking time out, Steve, Tim, Scotty and I headed out from Bertren along the D26 – in the dry. At one point I swear the sun even came out. It was, of course, an illusion. By the time we got to Arreau the rain was wet, our rain jackets were wet and we were ready for coffee. And lunch. The café was welcoming and we were loath to leave. Leave we must, though, and an exchange of texts with Paul meant we could expect a support team at the col. I suspect the weather Gods were not our friends, and with every pedal stroke the rain got harder and the temperature dropped a notch or two. I decided to plug myself into the iPod at the foot of the climb proper and the purgatory began. It was proper nasty. An hour of pain followed, as I followed Tim up the climb, Steve and Scotty having already flown up ahead. Rounding the hill, some 3 km from the summit to see the fresh snow on the slopes was the final straw. At last though it was over. It was 4 degrees and I'm pretty sure it was winter. Ed and Paul were at the col with warm Espace, energy bars and coffee ordered in the café. Slowly, very slowly, some life was creeping back into my bones. Trouble was, we still had the descent to Luchon and the ride back down the valley to do. No heroics, probably one of my slowest descents ever and fingers frozen to the brake levers, on top of which my Garmin gave out half way down, made it a less than pleasant experience. But character-building which, come the Etape, may prove invaluable. And the run back from Luchon was probably my fastest ever, though thanks to my non-functioning Garmin we will never know.

Garmin data for Col d'Aspin ride

May 18th:Riding the Pyrenees (Stages 1 & 2)

There is something eminently enjoyable about riding in France. And in the Pyrenees in particular. Paul and I have flown out for a week to enjoy some typical Pyractif hospitality, courtesy Chris and Helen who are lucky enough to have the Pyrenees as their playground. It ends up being a rather satisfying mix of a hard day in the saddle, rather excellent home cooking and, of course, the odd cheeky beer and bottle of red wine. Hopefully by the end of the week there will be some sort of fitness benefit. And, of course, the camera and bikecam work overtime.

Paul and I are joined for days 1 and 2 by Joan, an Etape aspirant from the Emerald Isle (bizarrely with a Kiwi accent). For our first sortie into the mountains Chris and Helen also tagged along to show us the way. And the sun shone too. The five of us headed for the Col des Ares, a wonderful climb to test the legs and see just what sort of shape we're in. The answer? Probably not as good as I would like, but ok. At the summit I was able to grab a few shots as the others rode up to the finish. The descent is lovely and the new helmet cam got its first proper test before the less testing climb to the Col de Buret, where Paul and I had some unfinished business from 2 years ago. This time he won the sprint for the KOM points. Time for coffee, Aspet here we come. The main square in Aspet is lovely, with cafes aplenty. We sat in the sun with coffees and soaked up the rather quiet bank holiday atmosphere (Ascension Day in France). At this point the team split, with Chris, Helen and Joan taking the rolling road back to Bertren, whilst Paul and I headed for the Col de Mente, a Category 1 tester. The ride up the valley alongside the river in the sunshine was very pleasant, perhaps a foretaste of the torment to come with the building heat. At the point where the Mente heads off to the west, the road splits and east is the Cpl de Portet d'Aspet, scene of the horrific crash when Fabio Casartelli died in the 1995 tour, and it felt only right and proper that we should pay homage. Then it was on to the Col de Mente. This is a toughie. 11.5km at about 7%, and the second half a much more relentless 9% to the summit. It was hot, there was little in the way of breeze, and it seemed like a tough climb. At a fraction over an hour, it was not a sparkling ride from me. I sat in the summit cafe with a coke and crepes and waited for Paul. And waited. After some 20 minutes I got a text – he was suffering. He and the heat don't mix, and it sounded like he was melting on the Mente. I jumped on the bike and rode back down to join him for the last 2km as he hauled his way up the hill. Clearly he was not at his fittest. We did however, enjoy the descent, a fast and technical 10km into St Beat. The headcam was at work again – hopefully this will find its way onto Youtube in the next week or so. At St Beat Paul headed for home whilst I rode south, into Spain, the intention being to ride the Col de Portillon. Weather and time beat me however, especially as I didn't want to miss my tea! So I turned about and headed back to base, a rather enjoyable 110km in my legs. Very satisfying.

Day 2 dawned overcast and a threat of rain. To perhaps ease Joan into Pyrenean cols and help Paul's rehabilitation, I came up with the plan of a loop into Spain and over the Portillon to Luchon for lunch, then an easy roll back down the valley to Bertren. Not a long day, but tough enough with a credible Category 2 climb to test them. The three of us set off for St Beat and joined the thundering Spanish lorries on the N125 into Spain. In truth, it was not pleasant as the road was not that wide and the lorries not that cycle-friendly. Eventually, having cruised through a police roadblock, we ambled into Bossost for a very welcome coffee. Now the work began, we were straight into the climb of the Portillon. Last year this took me some 47 minutes, so for me this was a real test of fitness. Paul and Joan rode the first part together leaving me to fly. It is a lovely climb, with some testing ramps but nothing excessively steep. At the very top the hairpins took me up into cloud, a welcome cooling to my sweaty brow! At 40'07, it was comfortably quicker than last year, very satisfying. Paul was a few minutes behind me and we cruised back down to ride the last kilometre or so with Joan as she reached the summit of her first category 2 col. Photos all round, then time for the totally enjoyable descent into Luchon, yet another opportunity for the headcam. Lunch called, time for galettes and beer. The ride back down the valley from Luchon was into the usual headwind making a net 250m descent hard work. How does that work? For my sins, I dived off with 4km to go and put in an extra 20km loop up to the pretty village of Mauleon Barousse (where the major village boules match was in full swing) and round the foot of the hills to Bertren. At just shy of 100km it had been a very enjoyable ride. And for good measure, we got back to find that Cav had won today's Giro stage, his 3rd win of this years race

Garmin data for Col de Portillon ride

May 8th: Time Trial Torture

There is something rather daunting about the first time trial ride of the season. It comes from a knowledge of what is to come, and the certainty of being underprepared for the suffering. And there is bound to be suffering. No amount of preparation, be it fitness rides or the odd bit of interval training can really take the place of the real thing. From the moment the clock ticks round and the timekeeper releases you onto the course the heartrate soars and the legs begin to hurt. The only thing that matters now is the clock. Time to dust off the time trial bike, check the tyre pressures and roll down to sign on for the "race of truth".

This evening it was VC Cumbria's 16 mile circuit of Bassenthwaite Lake, a lovely ride on a Sunday afternoon, or a warm summer evening. But purgatory on a cold Tuesday evening in early May. Setting off 30th man, I was near the back of the field and my first aim was not to actually be the last rider across the finish line. The first 5 miles is pan flat (more or less) down the west side of the lake, before turning north and heading onto the rolling section of the circuit, through Dodd Wood. This hurts. Really hurts. The average speed simply plummets and it becomes a matter of keeping focussed, trying to keep the average manageable ahead of the final 4 miles which are flat or slightly downhill. By now you are no longer aware of how cold it is, all you can hear is your breathing (hopefully regular) and your eyes are fixed on the road ahead. Keep the rhythm, maintain the pace. As we turned back onto the A66, heading south for 2 miles to the finish, I was passed. The knee-jerk reaction is an increase in pace and somehow there is an extra ounce of energy, an extra spurt as I tried not to let him get too far ahead. Finally, legs all but falling apart, heartrate rising, the finish line comes into sight, I scream (well, call out) my number and it is over.

The time is certainly not challenging the leaderboard, but for a first effort of the year I am happy. And the next one, somehow, won't be quite as bad. Oh, and I wasn't the last man across the line! Garmin data for the Bass Lake Circuit TT

April 29th: NOT the Brian Robinson Challenge!

My Etape plans are based on riding a sportive each month in the run-up to July. The first of these was today, the Brian Robinson Challenge, a 75 mile loop out of Huddersfield. With the BBC issuing weather warnings of torrential rain, possibly snow, and gale force winds in the Pennines, I mulled over my plans before finally decided on discretion rather than valour. The forecast for Cumbria was rather better, I would ride a similar distance over the hills of north Cumbria instead and leave the sportive riders to "enjoy" themselves.

On a windy, cool day with temperatures hovering around 6 degrees in a stiff north-easterly, it was not the best day, but it was dry as I set out from Waverton heading for Ireby, Bassenthwaite and then the climb over Whinlatter from Lorton. Classified as a Cat 3, it has a nasty 20% kick about halfway up the 5.2km climb, before a series of long straights and then the final ramp to the summit. That was hard. The upside? A fast technical descent to Braithwaite. I then took in a scenic circuit of Derwentwater, a chance to enjoy the beauty of the northern fells before riding into Keswick.

Up till now the wind had not been a significant factor, but the next 20 miles was predominantly into the stiff wind and suddenly the work got harder. Riding the long drag up to Scales Green from Threlkeld was painfully slow and the buffeting almost took me off the bike a couple of times. Eventually I reached the confines of Mungrisdale and it eased before yet another long climb into Greystoke Forest. Hard again. Aargh! Miraculously, as the clock ticked round to 1 o'clock, the rain was holding off (contrary to the forecasts) and I now began to enjoy the final part of the ride. The last 8 miles was with the benefit of a tailwind (at last) and as I rode up the lane to climb off my bike, tired but satisfied, the rain started to fall. How lucky was that?

Word has it that the riders who braved the Brian Robinson ride were rewarded with the winds and rain promised, and I suspect I made the right choice. Next year maybe?
Garmin data for a "Lakeland Loop" Totals for April
Distance ridden: 620km
Total ascent: 5540m

April 24th: April Showers

April showers... so the saying goes. And this month has not disappointed. Or, rather it has. It has been very much a question of taking a chance when heading out after work. This evening was no exception. My son Paul rang to say that down at Keswick it was raining hailstones as he sat in his car pondering the wisdom of the 10 mile time trial he intended to ride (in the end he didn't). Outside, as I finished at work, the sun was shining. Surely it couldn't be that bad?

Getting home just before 7 I reckoned a quick outing on the recently serviced Cannondale was in order, ahead of the Brian Robinson Challenge sportive this coming weekend, and the sun was still shining. Mind you, to the east it was black as night. No matter, I thought, the weather is moving away. What a foolish notion. As I set out it soon became apparent that I would, indeed, be very lucky to avoid the rather heavy looking showers that skirted the Solway Plain, where I was now headed. To the west the sun still shone, to the east the heavy rain was fast approaching.

Unusually, I decided on a anti-clockwise circuit, an inspired choice as I caught just a few brief spots of rain before easing out into the evening sun again. I enjoyed the smoothness of the bike, gear changes clean and neat, the wheels humming on the smooth tarmac (in places), and the sun low in the sky. Behind me a dramatic rainbow decorated the Solway Plain. And then I turned and suddenly was heading straight into the darkness. Miraculously it was only the last 2 or 3 kilometers when I rode into the curtain of rain and somehow managed to get home without a real drenching. But it was close!
Garmin data for Solway Plain evening ride

April 20th

Much of the last month has been taken up with the Spring Classics, with some inspirational riding from the Belgian master Tom Boonen who, this year, has really been the King of the Classics. His masterclass on Paris-Roubaix was reminiscent of Cancellara at his best. After a couple of years which have been less than classic it is good to see him back to something approaching his best.

Back in the UK life is back to 'normal'. The southern half of the country is "enjoying" a drought with hosepipe bans and reservoirs running dry, whilst here in the north we are inundated with the wet stuff, not to mention cold temperatures, and even the odd bit of snow. Brrrr! All of which makes riding a bike outside less than pleasant on occasion. Take Thursday for example. A day off often coincides with a dip in the weather, but this was ridiculous. I opted for the Welsh hills, but was cut down by a series of squally hail and rain showers. Unpleasant, I felt a deep desire not to be there, which is not a good thing when 30 odd miles from home on the bike. The only benefit was that there was a good deal of suffering going on which may serve me well when it comes to rides later in the summer. I hope so anyway.

I have also discovered Strava. Well, I haven't, but a couple of friends have introduced me to the rather geeky pleasures of this alternative to Garmin Connect. And I have to say it is rather fun. Comparing your times on climbs, descents and so on with mates and some of the pros is somehow addictive - and rather salutory. Perhaps I'm not going quite so well as I thought. I shall have to get some more time on the rower before heading for the Pyrenees next month.

April 4th: So that was Summer?

It's hard to believe just how variable our "spring" weather can be. A week ago we were basking, yes basking, in temperatures up in the 20s, sunblock slapped on and shorts de rigueur. Today it was full winter regalia, including skullcap and buff, snow on the hills, and a chilling northeasterly which made it feel close to freezing. I think I might have blinked, but was that our summer? After a glorious month of riding in March, culminating in a thoroughly enjoyable ride out into the Berwyn hills of North Wales last Thursday and a foray up the Horseshoe Pass (not especially quickly it has to be said, mainly because of the headwind), normal service has been resumed as we start April. Temperatures have plummeted, I have dragged the winter gear back out of the drawer, and snow is on the Lake District hills as a fiercely cold north-easterly bites at our ankles. Brrrrr!

Actually, March has been a great month, and I have come out of it feeling I am on track for the Etape in July. Mallorca was great fun, and although coming home tired after 400 odd miles of cycling, it has certainly strengthened my legs. I have to say my faith in my indoor rower seems to have been justified, that has made a big difference. Now, I have a few weeks to consolidate before my next foreign adventure when Paul and I head out to join the Pyractif crew in the Pyrenees. And before that is the first of my sportive rides this year, the Brian Robinson Challenge Ride in the Yorkshire/Derbyshire peak at the end of April, quite a challenge I suspect.

Sunday gone saw Helen and I out on the bikes, enjoying the last of the warm spell, partaking in the Chester and N Wales CTC Early Spring Tourist Trial, a crackingly enjoyable 50 mile ride on the Cheshire/Welsh border, with wonderful hospitality from the organisers who alid on a super bunfight at the halfway point. We did the ride last year and this was every bit as good. Helen has done so little riding yet this year that she feared she might struggle, but we soldiered on and completed the ride in style.

Please bring back the summer!
Totals for March
Distance ridden: 1125km
Total ascent: 11700m

March 26th: Mallorca part 2 (days 6-7)

And so, sadly, our annual trip to the sun has come to an end. I have to say the weather could have been better, but I guess to have got out on the bike 6 days out of 7 is probably a good return, and I feel I have got everything I wanted from the week - and more. It's not just about the riding either - a big thanks to Kev, our leader, who did all the organising and worried that we were enjoying ourselves (which we were). The social aspect of this trip was good as ever and I think we all came back tired but refreshed.

Day 6: The day started badly with overcast weather, drizzle in the air, but mercifully, no wind. We made the decision to head into the mountains, we being a smaller contingent of 4 riders. The aim was to ride Sa Calobra, probably the best road on the island. Another cruise up Femenia to Lluc from where we carried on over the mountains to the Coll del Reis, the top of Sa Calobra. By now the weather was brightening and we enjoyed a dry descent to the little tourist cove at the foot of the 10km plunge. What an enjoyable twisty technical descent. After a brief stop it was time to ride back up the long technical climb. A quickj energy bar and gel and the clock was ticking. It turned out to be a splendidly enjoyable climb and at the top I was gobsmacked to find I had shaved some 10 minutes off last year's time. Clearly, I am going well this year! I grabbed photos of the others as they crested the summit before we regrouped and headed back to Sa Batalla for some lunch in the afternoon sun. Then it was the descent of Sa Batalla and then a reather gentle ride back through the Campanet valley and down to Pollenca where we discovered a super coffee bar - perfect way to end a brilliant day on the bikes.

Day 6: Garmin data for Sa Calobra

Day 7: Our last day on the bikes before heading back to the UK. It needed to be good. And the weather,as we sat eating breakfast, was anything but. Drizzle, wind, grey - not what the doctor ordered. Ah well, it was just a question of getting on with it. Kev, Keith and I set out (and then there were three!) once again bound for the mountains, this time further west - we were Orient bound. The climb of the Coll d'Orient is dramatic and spectacular, rising from Alaro between two limestone mesas and by the time we got there the sun was breaking through and the heat was on. The Coll d'Orient is not a long climb, and neither is it particularly steep or technical, calling for steady tempo riding, but the scenery more than made up for it. All too soon we crested the summit of the climb, a pretty hanging valley high in the mountains, and found our way to Orient and a bar for lunch. Kev leftus at this point, and Keith and I were left to tackle the last climb over the Coll d'Honor and a fast tricky descent down to Bunyola. From here we now had a long 45 mile ride back to base, much of this with a tailwind (what a pleasant change). Jst to round off a great day on the bikes we stopped in the square in Pollenca for a well deserved cup of coffee before rolling back into the hotel with an evening of bike-dismantling and reflection ahead of us. It had, indeed, been a good week.

March 20th: Mallorca part 1 (days 1-5)

After five days here on Mallorca we have been brought back down to earth by typical British weather - wind and rain. It's awful. An enforced rest day has left us champing at the bit, our intentions are to ride tomorrow whatever the weather may be doing. So far though it has been a good time on the bikes.

Day 1: Arriving around lunchtime meant we could quickly build our bikes and head out for a short exploratory ride. Glorious warm sunshine meant we had but one choice, the road to Cap Formentor beckoned. As a leg warmer this ride excels with over 900m of climbing in just 40 kilometers. But what a beautiful ride. Scenery that shouts at you around every corner. It was, all in all, a lovely way to spend a couple of hours or so

Day 2: More warm sunshine, no winter gear and the mountains were calling. We headed west up the gentle 8 kilometer climb of the Coll de Femenia, bound for Lluc Monastery and a rather pleasant lunch stop. What goes up must come down and what followed was a wonderfully sweeping, technical descent down to Inca, the pulse racing at the sheer joy of it all.

Day 3: Another sunny day. More shorts and sunblock weather, this is getting to be repetitive. We headed south-west across the central flat belt bound for the hilltop monastery on Puig Randa, a 500m limestone outcrop with a sharp 4.5 kilometer climb to reach the top. And the views were stunning. A busy descent (it was full of cyclists) and we headed north now to ride the Coll de Sa Batalla from Inca, yesterday's descent now become a climb. 8 kilometers of sweeping switchbacks on super smooth tarmac. It's what all climbs should be. Finally this left us with the 25 kilometer descent back down to Port Pollenca a welcome shower after over 140 kilometers on the bike.

Day 4: The weather has taken a turn for the worse with sunshine replaced by cloud and a nasty cool NE breeze. What was intended to be a rest day turned out to be nothing of the sort. There were kilometers to be ridden and we headed south east down the coast to theroman town of Arta (good pizzas) and on to Cap de Capdepera, the eastern most point on the island. After some hard work into headwinds on the way out we enjoyed a bit of a tailwind home, fuelled by some delicious icecream in Cala Rajada.

Day 5: Nothing. Wind, rain and cold meant we could not be persuaded out on the bikes today, preferring the warmth of the hotel lounge and a suitable bar restaurant on the harbour for lunch. Surely tomorrow must be better.

Day 3: Garmin data for Puig Randa

March 14th: Mallorca, here we come

Mallorca is now just round the corner. Come Friday morning, at some silly hour way before any normal person should be up we will be checking in at Liverpool John Lennon aiport, bound for the sunny Balearics. It will be sweet.

Today was a final chance to stretch the legs on the bike ahead of our getaway, an enjoyable 2 hours around the Solway coast. Sadly the weather wasn't trific, with low cloud and cold temperatures. But no rain, and somehow it felt good. The Solway coast is a lovely place to cycle when recovery or an easy workout is the order of the day. A stiff westerly made it interesting, but the kilometres eased by. I rode home in the gloaming, legs nicely tired after a decent ride.

For those who are into such things, the Garmin data can be found using the link below.
Solway ride: Garmin data
One final footnote, worthy of mention, has to be Bradley Wiggins magnificent victory in the 2012 Paris-Nice stage race, only the second Brit rider to win this event (the other was Tom Simpson way back in 1967). This goes down as a great effort from Team Sky who controlled the race brilliantly, something which bodes well for the bigger races ahead - notably the 2012 Tour de France. Something to draw inspiration from.

March 3rd: The Time-trial Spectator

I have to say there is something rather satisfying about watching others suffer. Time-trial spectating encapsulates that emotion entirely, especially on a stormy March Saurday, rain in the air and the fresh breeze scudding across the northern Lake District fells. No, today is a day for riding out to a suitable point on the course and cheering words of encouragement to the poor souls who have decided to spend their precious Saturday enduring three (yes, three) laps of the Cumdivock hilly 11 course.

I eased my way over Brocklebank and sailed down Warnell to join the course at Goose Green. Marshalls (Paul, Chris and Peter) were just gathering themselves, waiting for the first rider, the plucky figure of Kev Gibbons, who soon hove into view, tearing up the long drag from Rosley before turning the corner and beginning the long fast descent through Welton toward Dalston. Riders came thick and fast now, some showing more signs of effort than others, all showing the face of pain. And they still had two and a half laps to go!

After watching the first dozen riders, including a determined looking Dave Forster, I donned my helmet and eased my way down the course to Rosley to stop awhile at the junction there and cheer some more encouraging words at the hapless riders. It wasn't long before riders now on their second lap started coming through, their weary legs tiring after the second drag up from Rosley village. And here was Kev again, looking strangely fresh. Followed a few minutes later by Dave, not looking so fresh, his face etched with masochistic pain.

The weather was not conducive to standing around for long and I bid my farewells to the marshalls before speeding on my way yet again, bound for the warmth of home and a piping hot cup of coffee, and sure in the knowledge that out there on the course, the poor riders were still pounding on the pedals as they looked for an end to the pain. Chapeau!

March 1st

Suddenly it is as if spring has arrived. Temperatures up in the mid-teens, sunshine and daffodils lining the roadside, and lambs in the fields. I love it. February finished with a flourish as I unwrapped the Cannondale summer bike, brushed it down and headed out for a (brief) foray round the Solway lanes. I love my Cannondale Synapse!

Then, today, I woke to sunshine, and the prospect of a lovely day in the Welsh borders. It would have been rude not to, so I headed out through Chester soon leaving the worst traffic behind me and started the long drag up to Llandegla and the Horseshoe Pass. Is it really so long since I headed out this way? It was truly stunning, andalthough my little legs were feeling the effects by the time I rolled back in some 4 hours later, it had been a thoroughly enjoyable 100k on the bike. Mallorca is now just 2 weeks away and I confess to getting quite excited at the prospect.

On a separate, slightly humorous note, this Youtube offering has come to my attention, possibly whetting our appetite for the Olympics. Well I enjoyed it!
YouTube Velodrome vid
Totals for February
Distance ridden: 207km
Total ascent: 1475m

February 27th

February has been a frustrating month. Weather, a short holiday in Barcelona, and a stinking cold have all conspired to make it diffidult for me to venture forth on two wheels. Inspiration has been there in the form of the Team GB World Cup track team which did so well on the new Olympic Velodrome the weekend before last, taking home a number of medals, a couple of world records and reaffirming our status as one of the top track cycling nations in the world. Roll on the Olympics, now just 5 months away. And Mark Cavendish has got his season off to a flyer with 2 wins in the Tour of Qatar, followed up just yesterday with a meritorious win in the Kuurne-Brussel-Kuurne one day Belgian classic.
At last, in the last week, I have dusted the cobwebs off my trusty winter bike and rolled out for a few miles. Notably, on Saturday Helen and I headed up the Wirral to the inestimable Eureka Cyclists Cafe, a true haven for cyclists. And yesterday, I finally got some sunshine, and a chance to spend some serious time on the bike, managing a rather tiring 65 miles in the leafy Cheshire lanes. Not a demanding ride as such, other than it tested some very rusty legs! Boy, did I enjoy it though!

February 5th 2012

My bike is a bit of a stranger at the moment. The weather continues to make it difficult so I have resorted to cross-training,donning hiking boots and seeking out the snowy slopes of the Lakeland and Snowdonia hills (the shot here was taken on the summit of Arenig Fawr last Thursday). Whilst the lack of bike time is frustrating, the time spent on the hills has been wonderfully enjoyable. At least I have my Concept 2 rowing machine parked up in my living room to retain some sanity! Hopefully, before too long, my bike wheels will be rolling again.
Totals for January
Distance ridden: 330km
Total ascent: 2760m

January 25th 2012

So January is almost behind us and the winds continue to make life difficult for us would-be cyclists. Having been out twice during the last week in conditions that make staying upright tricky to say the least I have to say I am getting a bit fed up of our winter. Last year it was ice and frost, now it is wind and rain (albeit no cold). At the moment the Pyrenees in July seems a long way away. I am consoling myself with the thought that in less than 2 months I shall be riding the roads that Team Sky have been using for winter training in Mallorca this last couple of weeks - and can't wait!
One last point. Chester City Council is being urged to consider a 20mph limit in residential areas, something which benefits not just cyclists, but local residents too. It stokes a vigorous debate with the car lobby, but evidence suggests that such speed limits are effective in reducing road casualties. It's worth pointing out that Chester markets itself as a"cycle city", it would be nice to see some evidence of this. Check it out at road.cc website

January 15th 2012

The year has been slow to start, bike-wise. Wind and rain have made getting out uninviting. So, instead, I have contented myself with some tough sessions on my new Concept 2 rower, which is so handy. A 30 minute session at the end of a long day at work freshens the mind and sooths the soul. Well, something like that!
And today we have enjoyed some sharp, proiper winter weather, with frost and clear skies. Cold, but well wrapped up, we were able to venture out for a sociable 40 mile stretch down the A6 from Carlisle to Penrith and back. A small peloton, some 10 or so in number, we took it steady and enjoyed some good craic. Just how a ride should be at this time of year. On top of a rather enjoyable 50 mile sally into the Cheshire lanes on Thursday that is the sum total of my riding so far. Hardly the start to my Etape training program I had envisaged. But there is time yet. So long as I'm not still saying that in March.