2014: A Year to savour?
2014 will, I think be remembered for the Tour de France visiting British shores once again. After the success of the 2007 Grand Départ, Le Tour de Yorkshire (as it was euphemistically dubbed) promised to be quite something. In the event it easily exceeded those expectations, with huge crowds on epic climbs such as Buttertubs and Holme Moss as the Tour peloton rode by. We were lucky enough to experience the spectacle first-hand, enjoying the atmosphere of the Tour in Leyburn in Wensleydale. Sadly it wasn't a fairytale finish to the day for Mark Cavendish as he crashed in the hectic finalé in Harrogate. To top it all the weather served up a treat and the Tour left these shores with a smile on its face. I imagine they will be back before too long.
And what else? Well, there were some interesting projects to keep me going. After a year off Team Geri Atrics once again headed to Mallorca for some spring sunshine and the marvellous Mallorca 312 sportive (featuring a host of Grand Tour ex pros). And later in the year I headed to northern Spain and the Picos Europa for a week's supported cycle touring round an area I knew precious little about. I really can't understand why it remains so undiscovered, as a cyclist's playground it ticked all the boxes. The full story of 2014 unfolds below.
December 31st 2014: The curtain comes down...
So, that was 2014. A year to remember? You bet. So much to savour after 12 amazing months on the bike. The last 10 days has, despite some less favourable weather where the cold has finally returned with a vengeance, still allowed me to clock up a last couple of hundred kilometers to round off a record breaking year. Over 1000 kilometers a month for a whole year - I have to admit to feeling quite chuffed at that. Completing the monthly Strava Challenge ride EVERY month was the icing on the cake. It seems hard to believe that 2015 can follow that, but I am hopeful.
Helen, too, has enjoyed a fine time on her bike, though we have had less opportunity up north in Cumbria. The trips to Mull and Arran will linger in the memory and serve as a spur to more enjoyable trips to foreign parts. Mallorca beckons.
Other highlights? Well, obviously our weekend in Yorkshire in July as France came visiting was near the top of the list. The crowds, the colour and the spectacle of it all blew just about everybody away. No British winner this year, though Chris Froome did go some way to making amends with a strong showing at the Vuelta de Espana in September. Geraint Thomas' surprise and inspired victory in Glasgow's Commonwealth Games road race was great to watch as he overcame some horrendous conditions. And Bradley Wiggins finally got his hands on that elusive World Time Trial Gold after several attempts. It really has been a rather enjoyable 12 months.
Totals for December
Distance ridden: 666km
Total ascent: 5110m
Total Figures for 2014
Distance ridden: 12,317km
Total ascent: 119,455m
Best rides: The Mallorca 312 event stands out as a wonderful day on my bike, even if I bottled the full 312km distance. The weather was perfect and the route a classic, the fact that I rode it in well under 7 hours made it one to remember. Honorable mentions though go to our 2 day Tour of Arran with Phil and Barb, and to my stunning week riding in the Picos de Europa.
December 21st 2014: A bit of a milestone
I confess that I have been fretting a little over the last couple of weeks. All year long I have been riding my bikes, more than any previous year. This despite some pretty shocking weather along the way (anyone remember Spring). As we came into December I was tantalisingly short of completing 12000 kilometers, 1000 per month. Add to that the now habitual Strava monthly challenge of a single 130km ride to be ticked off which, given the ever shorter days (especially up north), was always going to be a tricky one. All of which, as I say, has left me ruminating just when and how I would achieve these milestones.
In the end I needn't have worried. A handful of rides over the last fortnight (including an epic outing with Cal last Sunday in the wind and rain when we clocked over 80 kilometers) left me just one grand ride short of both targets. As it was I had a day off on Friday, the weather was set fair for a change and I was in Chester where the days are half an hour or so longer than up in Cumbria. The portents were good. MapmyRide helped me come up with a suitable route, heading out through Cheshire countryside dipping back and forth over the Welsh border before turning east and then back up along the line of the Sandstone Ridge between Whitchurch and Frodsham. Come the morning the sun was up (eventually) and, after some minimal faffing about, I was off.
It was a lovely day out on the bike. Breezy to be fair, but not unmanageably so, and warm enough and dry enough not to require a rain jacket. Delight at spotting a couple of kestrels and buzzards along the way, as well as some lovely countryside scenery added to the enjoyment of the day. Capping it all off with a stop at the strangely quiet Station Cafe in Delamere Forest for coffee and cake was the proverbial icing. I rolled home just after the sun had set, 140 kilometers under my belt and both milestones duly ticked off. I felt quietly elated. The fact that en route I picked up an entirely unexpected Strava KOM for a little ridden segment in deepest Cheshire was an added bonus which I shall gratefully accept. Don't suppose I shall keep it for long, but it's just rather satisfying to see my name at the top of that particular segment's leaderboard. Happy Christmas!
November 30th 2014: Nearly done
So November slips by, 2014 is nearly done. Just 25 more days till Christmas and before we know it we'll be sitting in front of the Christmas Tree and wondering just where the year went. November has slipped by, alnost unnoticed, but the mild weather has allowed me to get a few miles in and I find myself now within touching distance of riding 12000 kilometers in 2014, an unprecedented achievement for me. So you'll forgive me if I chuck in a few “junk” miles in December to take me over the line.
Much of my riding now is about next year to be fair. The cold temperatures hardly encourage a hard session, and I have felt a certain fatigue after so much enjoyable riding in different parts this summer. The base miles philosophy is one I tend to embrace as the nights draw in and opportunities to ride diminish. Social rides are important too and November has been much about this genre of riding. A weekend in the Kielder Forest area allowed Helen and myself, along with Paul, to revisit some old familiar roads from Border City century club ride days, we even found some first class cake at Kielder Castle to roll back the years even further. And a rare weekend on my own in Cumbria gave me the chance to ride out with the Border City gang one morning, though I can't help but feel they picked an especially hilly route just for me! Good craic, and first class cake at the Pot Place near Penrith meant it was a thoroughly enjoyable Saturday morning.
Last weekend we managed to procure tickets for the Revolution track evening at the Manchester Velodrome (as it used to be known), an entertaining evening of fast and furious action featuring some top class track riders, notably Laura Trott, Joanna Rowsell, Ed Clancy, Luke Rowe and Peter Kennaugh amongst many. The formula is now tried and tested, since these events started some 11 years ago – I remember going to the first one and being blown away by the non-stop action. It seems a bit of shame that the food on offer remains disappointing, with fast food the predominant offering. An opportunity missed methinks. Still, it was a great evening and, if you've never tried one of these meeting then give it a try.
Totals for November
Distance ridden: 758km
Total ascent: 6140m
November 6th 2014: Bits and bobs
After all the excitement and travelling of the last couple of months it has been a reality check this last 3 weeks or so. Flanders was different, the Picos was stunning and Arran was beautiful. Cumbria and Cheshire in dreary autumn light has an air of normality about it. For all that the autumn colours, particularly in Cumbria, have been exceptionally beautiful. The weather has reverted to type sadly and the pattern of one nice day followed by several days of wind, rain or both seems strangely familiar. Remember the Spring?
One thing I can recommend, however, is not coming off the bike. Some 3 weeks back I was out minding my own business on an afternoon off, enjoying the delights of the Cumbrian fells round Caldbeck when my Trek suffered a mechanical mishap whilst on a cheeky little 20% incline. It's amazing how quickly you lose momentum when there is no drive through the pedals and before I knew it I was hitting the tarmac, fortunately not at any great speed. Sadly, I chose to land on my ribs and knee which came off decidedly second best to the tarmac. The bike was fine (after a brief inspection and a fiddle with the chain) but my chest felt very bruised and battered, and I decided against looking at the state of my knees under the leggings. I finished the ride, another 40km or so, and tended my wounds. Cracked ribs are rather distressing - laughing, sneezing and sudden movements are exceedingly painful, and getting to sleep at night is nigh on impossible. The only course of action is to grin and bear it, with the odd plea for some sympathy - not always forthcoming as it was, after all, self-inflicted. At least I can still ride and this I have continued to do. Given Dani King's recent mishap which resulted in 5 broken ribs and a punctured lung I guess I can think myself fortunate.
At half term Helen and I headed south, visiting family. Any excuse, I managed to sneak my bike in the back of the car without Helen noticing, and took the opportunity to enjoy a couple of recovery rides in Dorset and Devon, a Tour of the West Country if you will. Devon, in particular, is always good to ride. And a fine autumn morning in the Teign Valley served up a treat as I went to ride Six Mile Hill (as featured on the 2013 Tour of Britain).
Most recently, today I continued my unbroken run with the Strava Gran Fondo monthly challenges, with a 130km ride out round the Cheshire countryside on a rather unpleasant grey blustery day. After a glorious afternoon riding the north Cumbria fells yesterday, this was a bit of a down-to-earth bump, made harder by cool temepratures and a stiff southerly which sapped the energy. By the time I reached Delamere Station Café I was more than ready for a welcome piece of cake and warming hot chocolate before continuing. Not the most challenging route, but it felt like a hard day out on the bike. Just December left now and I will have managed to complete all 12 this year.
Perhaps the best thing about this time of year is that the planning for the coming 12 months now begins in earnest. Already there are some major trips in the pipeline. For the first time in many years I have decided not to join the Team GeriAtrics tour next spring, preferring instead to go to Mallorca with Helen for a mix of walking and cycling. She is already getting pretty excited at the prospect. On the Pyractif front 2014 was a quiet year as I didn't manage to get to see any of the gang at all, Paul and I both missed the craic and the company. From that crowd, Tim will be celebrating his 50th year next summer and has been inviting his cycling mates to join him on an Italian Dolomite homage, hosted by our good friends at Pyractif. Of course, it would be rude not to, and Paul and I both leapt at the chance so that's next August sorted. On top of that a trip to the Pyrenees is in order after abstinence this year so again Paul and I will head down to Bertren in June for a week's riding and some good company with the Balfours. Add to that the prospect of trips to the Isle of Man and possible northern France and it is already promising to be quite a year. Can't wait!
Totals for October
Distance ridden: 927km
Total ascent: 12320m
October 11th 2014: A cobbled classic
The cobbles of Flanders in Belgium have long been on my bucket list and this weekend, at last, was an opportunity to take my bike for a spin around the Flanders fields and “enjoy” the experience. We were in Gent for the weekend, a hop, skip and ride from Oudenaarde, capital of the Tour of Flanders.
All sorts of helpful tips came my way, both from those who have ridden there and those who haven't. In the end I took the advice of Cal and on Saturday afternoon, after the rain had stopped, I headed south out of Gent along the banks of the Schelde River bound for Oudenaarde. Getting lost in the Gent urban sprawl wasn't the best start, but eventually I found my way to the riverside and followed the mighty Schelde upstream. Periodically, the odd group of cyclists would pass me, in both directions, earnest and serious looking types who were clearly not taking in the atmosphere of autumn in Flanders and enjoying a Saturday afternoon paying homage to the Belgian classics. Their loss. Oudenaarde turned out to be more than a hop and a skip, the neck end of 40km by the time I rolled into the busy town centre and found the start of the Tour of Flanders blue route. There are 3 colour-coded rides of varying length which give visiting cyclists the chance to taste different aspects of the one day classic. The blue route included the Oude Kwaremont and the epic notorious Koppenberg. I still had some 10km to get to Kwaremont, following the river even further south and away from Gent before finally turning onto a tiny farm road which all too soon became a bed of large, uneven cobbles. This was it. The Oude Kwaremont. Riding it on 23mm tyres probably wasn't the best idea, every bump shuddered up through the frame and I could feel the bike being pushed left and right by the cobbles. Ahead was a young(ish) Belgian lad manfully labouring up the climb. I took my chance and powered past him and on up the climb. A bit childish but immensely satisfying. Through the village the cobbles continued and flattened out across expansive fields. Photo opportunity time as my Belgian friend came up the road towards me. We nodded mutual respect to each other and went our separate ways. Time was my enemy now as daylight at this time of year is somewhat limited and I still had a 40km ride back to Gent (hopefully without getting lost), so I made directly for the Koppenberg to pay homage to perhaps the most famous cobbled climb. At the bottom I stopped and gazed as the road climbed steeply up and into trees above the village (of the same name). Optimistically some kind soul had painted a timing start line on the cobbles, presumably challenging all and sundry to have a go. I didn't feel the need, I was content to simply cast my eyes over this epic scene and imagine the carnage that often ensues during the race. Now I really did need to make tracks if I was to get back before the daylight failed me. Fortunately a gentle headwind on the way out now became my friend and I sped along the river bank, enjoying the autumn sunshine on the trees and fields. It was a classic day out, one to remember.
October 5th: Exploring the Picos de Europa
Day 1: Fuenta De. I have to say I have never really taken to getting up at some unearthly hour of the morning and the fact that my flight left Manchester at 7.15am was not something to look forward to. On the plus side it meant that, even after transfer from Bilbao airport, I would be at our hotel by 2 and this meant the opportunity to enjoy a short ride – to check out the bike, you understand. A sharp shower accompanied by a roll of thunder as we were building bikes didn't bode well, the mountains around the pretty town of Potes high in the Picos were shrouded in heavy cloud but it was warm enough and, well you never know, I might get lucky. Our hosts for the week, Marmot Tours, had chosen a splendid hotel just outside Potes and some 6 of us had arrived on the early flight. My choice of ride was the classic Vuelta climb of Fuenta De, a 25km haul from Potes itself into the heart of the mountains. Surprisingly no one else seemed keen so I set off with some 3 hours before dinner. Within 10 minutes I was wet from another sharp shower, but the skies were brightening and a hint of craggy mountain summits ahead urged me on. The climb is steady, a pattern I was to become familiar with during the week ahead, climbing some 800m over the 23k haul to the cable car station of Fuenta De itself and a dead end surrounded by a huge cirque of spectacular mountain scenery. One of the the cable cars descended out of the mist as I took it all in. If this was what lay ahead over the next 6 days I was in for a treat. All that remained was the descent back to Potes, a treat given the excellent road surface and the drying tarmac, interrupted only by a flock of sheep being driven across the road in one of the villages en route. And I was back in time for tea.
Day 2: Puerto San Glorio and other stories. The day dawned grey and heavy, not much prospect of blue skies today. Or so we thought. The morning was given over to a gentle ride up the 30km climb to Puerto de Piedrasluengas, at 1355m a significant enough climb, over 1000m of ascent albeit at a gentle 3% average. The first half of the climb is indeed gentle and winds its way up the valley though we could see precious little of the mountains as the cloud was so low. Slowly, almost imperceptibly the cloud was breaking up and bit by bit the views unfolded as we climbed ever higher. The group was 20 strong in total, but everyone was riding their own ride and it was left to essentially 3 of us – Paul from Yorkshire, Bronwyn from Brisbane and myself – to get to know each other as we chatted our way up the slopes. We were treated to a few cheeky sections mid-climb where the gradient kicked up, but essentially it was a joy all the way to the desoiate summit, by which time the sun was out and the mountains revealed. And it was quite a view. We were treated to a group of vultures flying low overhead, then it was time for the long descent, a veritable joy.
After lunch in a bar in Potes, there was a “challenge” option for the afternoon, the 27km climb to the 1609m summit of Puerto San Glorio, another Vuelta climb. I was certainly up for it, and Paul joined me for the first half. We exchanged cycling experiences as the road climbed up through villages and woodland on the long, long climb. Eventually, Paul had had enough and turned to enjoy a 15km descent back to the hotel. I took a deep breath and carried on. The camera was working overtime as the views expanded with the altitude. Towards the top a series of hairpins unfolded and finally I could see the Marmot van waiting at the top, water and cake to hand. Our support driver Rani and I discussed the merits of the climb – and the descent before I donned a jacket (it was getting quite cool here at 1600m) and embraced the long, glorious descent back to Potes. A fantastic way to end the day's riding.
Day 3: Shootout on Convadonga. After 2 nights in Potes it was time to move on. Our route today took us north down the Hermida Gorge before heading west through the mountains to Cangas at the foot of the climb to Lagos de Covadonga, scene of an epic shootout between the main contenders on the recent Vuelta a Espana. Another grey and cloudy start to the day didn't augur well for great views and warm cycling, but we needn't have worried. Within an hour or so the sun had burnt off much of the cloud and we were treated to some wonderful scenery. The day began with the gorge descent which was both spectacular and a gentle start to the day's riding. The gorge is rather reminiscent of Cheddar, only much, much bigger. Huge limestone cliffs tower high above the narrow defile, with the waters of the Rio Deva running swiftly alongside the narrow winding road. And it just went on and on, 26km in total before we finally ran out onto the flatter lands near the town of Panes mentally exhausted from the grandeur of it all. At Panes there was an easy to miss left turn and we were climbing again, this time gradually up a valley flanked by mountains to the Alto de Ortiguero, a modest col at a mere 443m but with spectacular views intro the heart of the Picos mountains. Once again, the camera was getting a lot of use. The last part of the morning was a gentle descent down to Soto de Cangas and lunch. Lagos de Covadonga is a classic Vuelta climb, in the mould of the Tourmalet or Alpe d'Huez – and yet few have heard of it. And even fewer have been there to ride it. One of the notable aspects of our riding so far has been the lack of fellow cyclists. Indeed, traffic generally is thin on the ground – with the exception of hundreds of motorbikes which seem to have chosen today to hold a rally through the region. The climb rises 1040m over its 19 kilometers, though the first 6km are a bit of a gimme. At the spectacular basilica of Covadonga, the road swings across a roundabout and the gradient instantly assumes more leg-sapping proportions. From here on in it gets serious, with slopes averaging 10% as the climb meanders up through a wooded valley. As it breaks out of the trees we were faced by an 800m ramp where the gradient increased visciously to about 18%, this was becoming a grind. Also by now the blue skies had given way to cloud which was rolling in from the mountains and the views were coming and going. After yet more hairpins and some more serious ramps we finally came out onto the plateau and were confronted with a short fast descent to the first of the Lagos, Enol, atmospheric with the swirling mists. All that remained now was one final short sharp climb to the second lake, Lago de la Ercina and the road end (together with a viscious car park whose cobbles threatened punctures for anyone unfortunate to ride on them). A cafe here offered strong coffee and a chance to recuperate from the rigours of the climb. Whilst my ascent wouldn't have broken any records it was certainly as memorable as I would have hoped, and the lifting mists revealed some amazing mountain scenery to savour before the fast descent back to Soto de Cangas and our hotel for the night. An epic day.
Day 4: All the way to Riano. These grey mornings are becoming a bit of a feature in the Picos. Yet another cloudy sky greeted us as we rolled out down to the nearby town of Cangas Onis and its spectacular Pont Romano (not Roman, but Romanesque). Today's standard ride was short, a mere 70km up and over 1280m Puerto de Ponton and down to Riano. Admittedly it was a 45km climb, once again up through a spectacular gorge, seemingly a feature of so much of this area. I felt the need for a longer ride and opted for the challenge route which took in 2 additional climbs west of Cangas before joining the Ponton climb. Most of our group seemed to be opting for the short option, and those of us riding long had our own agendas so much of the day was spent on my own, with my camera. Some low lying cloud/fog meant a chilly start until I hit the first climb to Alto de Cazo where a small country lane gradually climbed through a wooded valley and out into the sunshine. Wow, the scenery was stunning, and the rest of the day was a joy. At 653m Cazo is not high, but it was an enjoyable climb rewarding me with some great camera shots before I met up with Rani at the col. Topping up with water and some tasty cake I then headed down the fast descent before turning sharp right in the little village of Beleno and the start of yet another gorge climb to the tougher Alto Los Begules, with a sting-in-the-tail last 4km. The col was a disappointment with little in the way of signage or views to keep me there. The steep descent to rejoin the Ponton road on the other hand was thoroughly enjoyable, apart from the large numbers of rocks littering the road, having fallen from the towering cliffs above. A worry as I doubt very much that my trusty helmet would offer much protection if a rock chose that moment to come down. Lunch was a tasty salad at a pleasant cafe/bar at the bottom of the descent, cheeky beer and all. Now for the 25km remaining of the Ponton climb – all the climbs are so long, but varied with it. Gorges, wooded valleys, open moor and craggy mountains keep the interest going and the eyes occupied. Intersperse that with pretty villages and you get the idea. What made this climb especially pleasant was the gentle tailwind which followed us upwards. At the summit, the Puerto de Ponton Rani was once again waiting with fruit, cake and water and many of the team were also there, enjoying a break after the long climb. I joined up with Bronwyn for the 20km or so descent down into Riano, the new town on the shores of the lake of the same name, created some 20 years ago when the valley was flooded amidst some controversy to create a water supply. Surrounded by jagged mountains it was certainly spectacular and we watched the sun set over the lake and mountains sipping cold beer at our hotel, savouring yet another fine day in the Picos.
Day 5: Anxious on the Angliru. Today was the longest day of the week, some 150km or so heading west out of the Picos in search of the infamous Angliru, possibly the hardest climb in Europe (a bold claim with no particular substance, purely speculation). It started inauspiciously in thick fog as we rolled out of Riano, the lake invisble in the pea-soup. And it was cold, only 2 or 3 degrees. This was not what I had signed up for. After an hour or so we finally rode out of this claggy mist and into a bright sunny day, much more like it. The road gradually climbed from the plateau and up to the Puerto de Tarna, at 1490m and the edge of the Picos plateau. Unlike most of the roads up till now, the descent from here was very rough and needed respect as we plunged down another gorge and out toward the industrial outskirts of Oviedo. We passed a couple of dammed reservoirs and stopped for a welcome spot of lunch, complete with obilgatory cheeky beer. From here many opted for a lift bypassing the next 50km or so which were on busy roads, and saving themselves for the horros of the Angliru (more of which later). Paul and I opted to do the whole ride and ran the gauntlet of the increasing traffic levels as far as Langreo where we dived off this busy road and onto a lovely 5% climb over Puerto Santa Emiliano and down the most enjoyable descent of the week so far into Mieres. More busy roads took us further west before we turned into another gorge and headed up to La Vega, the village at the foot of the Angliru. Anyone with any knowledge of the Vuelta will understand the respect (and fear) for this climb, it is a real beast. 12.5km averaging 10.5% tells only half the story. We stopped for photos at the junction and were engaged in conversation by a local cyclist who decided that the only person with any chance of riding the climb was Paul who had a triple. Those of us with compact or standard doubles were treated to a chuckle and a shake of the head. The first half of the climb which Paul and I now embarked on is tough enough, 8% up to a mirador on a plateau at some 700m. Ahead for those foolish enough to have a go was another 7km at an average of 14%. Brutal isn't the word for it. David Millar famously threw his bike down and refused to cross the line in 2002 after a particular brutal stage in the rain. Paul and I adopted a commonsense approach and decided to simply ride to the foot of the steep section, read the information boards and take photographs before retreating. Wise move. Stories exchanged in the hotel bar that evening confirmed our decision as being wise. After all we still had another 30km or so and a major climb before the comfort of our hotel for the night. The last climb, the Alto de El Cordal (789m) was enjoyable as we enjoyed evening views of the valley below. At the summit James was there to greet us dressed as the devil, a startling sight. Cake and water helped and we rolled down the final steep descent to Pola de Lena and our hotel and that bar.
Day 6: All the way (back) to Riano. Today we headed east back into the Picos. And it was via yet another monster long climb, this time the 27km Puerto San Isidro, a classic climb in every sense. The day started with some sunshine, a bit of novelty which caught us all by surprise. From the hotel we rode back down the valley through Pola de Lena to Ujo where a right turn took us on to an old road running up an industrialised valley to the village of Cabanaquinta, a good spot for a coffee break in a streetside cafe. By now we had gathered into a small group, ready to tackle the road ahead. This is where the climb proper starts and the gradient (a gentle 1-2% till now) starts to become more serious. Soon the valley sides were closing in and ahead the mountains walled us in. A series of hairpins and avalanche tunnels took us up through a gorge (via a vicious 10% ramp) and out onto open mountainside. Fields of autumn crocus added a splash of colour in the sunshine and ahead were signs of snowfields with ski-lifts rising to the upper slopes. And finally, here was the summit, the 1520m San Isidro, complete with cafe, recommended by Rani. A good number of our group were here, enjoying the food and beer, although the proprietor must have seen us coming and charged us accordingly. Probably the most expensive meal of the entire week. Suitably replenished, Paul and I set off on the short descent, an enjoyable sweeping road down through crags and tree-lined groves before the next climb, a sharp left back up through distinctly Scottish scenery to the Puerto de Las Senales, at 1625m the highest point on the Classic Cols route for the week. Again, Rani was at the summit to greet us and we relaxed by the roadside as gradually our numbers increased as others finished the climb behind us. All that remained now was the short descent back to Puerto de Tarna and then the long gradual descent back down onto the plateau and Riano, all strangely unfamiliar when not obscured by fog as it had been yesterday. Another sunset, another evening in the bar and the feeling that the week was coming to an end.
Day 7: Glory on San Glorio. Our final day here in the Picos, it had come around so quickly it was hard to believe. This being Riano, we woke to find it cold and foggy, a feature up here on the plateau where the effects of the large lake creat a climate all of its won. Again, an unpleasant first hour riding out of the fog to find that it was not a wildly sunny day. No matter, it was dry and the autumn colours in this subdued light were lovely. The first climb was a gentle start to the day, climbing the 1450m Puerto de Panderruedas, obviously a tourist favourite as there was a large car park and two bus loads of tourists here to take in the views. A fast sweeping descent (with a couple of tricky technical sections to keep it interesting) took us down to the village of Cain, where a famous gorge, the Valdeon, offers popular tourist walking and a haven for weekend 4x4s who hog the narrow road. Coffee and cake time. Bronwyn and I rode part way down the gorge road but the gradients on offer were getting silly and, on the grounds that anything we rode down we would have to come back up, we chose to beat a retreat and continue on the classic route, heading south over the Puerto de Pandetrave. The first 3km of the climb were horrific, the gradient alternating between 2 and 16% with nothing much in between. Finally it gave up this outrageous behaviour and became a lovely climb through autumnal woodland with gradually unfolding views of the surrounding mountains. Climbing is always best done at your own pace and I rode on ahead, to eventually find Paul at the summit with Rani. A few photos to celebrate and then it was time for lunch. The descent was decidedly Arran, a lovely highland road through heather wooded moorland. At the bottom was a handy pub with welcome food (and beer of course). Shortly most of the crowd had rejoined as we savoured the sunshine which had broken through. We now had one last climb, the Puerto San Glorio, much shorter from the west and a delight. Again a gorge featured before the ubiquitous open moorland higher on the climb and finally we crested the summit to much celebration and merriment. There was one last task, a short haul up a 2km sideroad to a mirador, recommended by Rani for its amazing views of the Picos. Well, it would have been rude not to. James assertion that the San Glorio descent rivalled Superbagneres in the Pyrenees was put to the test and I have to say it is a close run thing. Sadly, with just 7km to go, having ridden the neck end of 800km in the week I hit a stone on the road and suffered an impact puncture, a rather annoying finish to another lovely day on the bike. All that remained was some evening celebrations in the hotel bar and sharing some stories and experiences from the week long enjoyment. To be able to ride such climbs and descents with little or no traffic, and in weather that was kind to us (it started raining an hour after we got back to the hotel) has been an immense pleasure and something to look back on and savour. And Marmot Tours certainly played their part with wonderful support, great route planning and genuine enthusiasm.
Totals for Picos Europa
Distance ridden: 762km
Total ascent: 14050m
September 28th 2014: Picos de Europa, here we come!
Well, that's me just about ready for my trip to the Picos. Not much more I can do now as I fly out today at some unearthly hour to acquaint myself with a region which seems largely undiscovered. September has been rather enjoyable with a number of fun rides. Phil and I took a day off to cruise round the Cheshire lanes, taking in a opleasant pub lunch and racking up a tidy 130km along the way. A few days later I even found myself with a spare weekend in Cumbria (something which doesn't happen very often), mainly thanks to work commitments, and the opportunity to join up with the Satruday morning gang for a ride out. It was great to see some familiar old faces and catch up as we rode a lumpy route through the Pennine foothills south of Carlisle before retiring to a welcome brew and cake. As the weather was set fair and we didn't feel ready to stop five of us continued the ride into the afternoon and had clocked up a tidy 130km before the day was done, culminating in a pleasant afternoon cafe stop with cake in the autumn sunshine. My final ride before the big trip was yet another crack at the uphill challenge that is Cragg Vale, famous for its appearance on the Tour de France route (stage 2) and the fact that a bunch of locals dragged a grand piano up there by bike as part of the Tour preparations. Sadly the weather yesterday wasn't quite as kind as it might have been and conditions on top of Blackstone Edge were pretty grim. Ah well
Totals for September
Distance ridden: 1227km
Total ascent: 13100m
September 8th 2014: There's just too much cycling on TV
As we move into the third and final week of La Vuelta, with the action now hotting up as the big four go head to head on a daily basis, I now find myself also having to find time to watch the latest instalment of the Tour of Britain, 2014 vintage. Just to rub it in the UCI World Championships are imminent. Just where am I supposed to fit my own bike rides in? Seriously though, it has been great watching the Vuelta as it has unfolded over the last fortnight. Alberto Contador and Chris Froome seem to have recovered well after their respective injuries suffered during the Tour de France in July and look to be the pick of the field, though Alejandro Valverde continues to defy the years and is right there in the mix along with Joaquim Rodriguez. It looks like a four-way battle for the podium places, though as I write, Contador looks favourite to fill the top step, especially after a weekend of consecutive mountain-top finishes in the Costa Verde region. The race was rather marred today as two protagonists decided to air their differences in a rather undiginifed manner, trading blows on the bike in full view of the race commissaire. Needless to say they were both thrown off the race for their troubles. I imagine their teams will be less than happy with their performances.
Talking of the Costa Verde, my trip to the Picos Europa is now less than 3 weeks away and I am trying hard to fine tune my legs ahead of what should be a great week cycling. Judging by what I've seen on the television coverage, especially stage 15 to Lagos de Covadonga, I am in for a treat. The climbs look serious and should be challenging, I only hope I can do them justice. At the end of the day, though, I won't lose sight of the fact that it is a holiday. The camera will be expected to be busy!
We headed north over the sea to Arran in mid August, with Phil and Barb, to ride round the island over a couple of days. It is such a wonderful place to ride a bike, with some challenging climbs, some long flat coastal stretches and some rather enjoyable café and beer stops along the way. Because of the atrocious weather we delayed a day and were rather pleased we did as we were able to enjoy 2 days dry riding, the second of which saw the sun blazing down on the most beautiful heather you could imagine. We spotted eagles and red kites but sadly didn't see any seals. No matter, it was a very enjoyable way to see the island and I can thoroughly recommend it to anyone. We travelled light, stopping overnight in a B&B in Brodick, all of which made the ride rather easier.
Since then I have managed a few mid-distance rides, taking in some of the challenging Lake District northern hills to try and keep match-fit. A long weekend down in Shrewsbury (for the Folk Festival) was a fine excuse to take a bike and ride out to try my hand at the climb up to the Stiperstones, a rather tough 20% clamber whose severity which took me by surprise. Good views though.
Totals for August
Distance ridden: 906km
Total ascent: 9265m
August 15th 2014: Not another Strava Challenge!
Actually, this month there are two Strava Challenges which have given me sleepless nights as, having signed up, I tried to plan when and how I would achieve them given my reduced cycling opportunities this month and the sudden change in weather which now seems to think it's autumn. Every month this year Strava have laid down their monthly ride challenge to do 130km in a single ride, and August is no exception. In addition they have thrown down an additional gauntlet, to ride a 100 miler in a single outing, their "summer" sizzler. As usual, and in an effort to extend my own riding I have signed up and then fretted. As it was, I had the day off work today and, despite a less than ideal forecast, decided I would knock them both on the head in a two-for-the-price-of one outing, over the border into Dumfries and Galloway in search of cake! Setting off at the rather unearthly hour of 9.15 (far too early on my day off!) I headed east to Carlisle via the twisting lumpy Solway lanes, rain in the air and clouds gathering. Hardly a breath of wind, which was good, though it meant any showers would linger. By the time I was skirting round the western fringes of Carlisle the clouds had gathered enough and were now dispensing their load. By the time I crossed the Scottish border up near Gretna I was well soaked and questioning the wisdom of my decision to ride today. The rain relented as I swung west and out toward Annan but soon those clouds were regathering, this time with rather more menace and I took shelter in Tescos to wait whilst the deluge filled the car park. I snacked on a banana and thought nice thoughts. After some 20 minutes or so the rain eased and I was back on my way. Before long the skies were brightening and the road from Annan out along the Solway coast toward Criffel was transformed. The nice thing about today's ride was that it was pretty flat, and I made good progress as Criffel loomed, before I turned north over the hill and down to Dumfries, the Queen of the South. 1 o'clock was coming round and lunch called, as I glided down the road along the river Nith and into Glen Caple I was greeted by the welcome sight of the Caerlaverock Tea Room. Perfect. And good cake too. On the road again, my return route followed much the same roads, but now the sun was out and it was actually warm. My legs were feeling the distance now, but the lack of wind allowed me to chug along happily enough. Back through Carlisle and only the Solway lanes out west but now the wind was getting up and made the last 2okm or so a bit of a trial. Finally, as the clock ticked past 5.15 I turned back into my lane and stopped the Garmin at 177km. A proper day out! And good cake.
July 30th 2014: Jodrell Bank and other stories
July has come to a close (I am heading for the Dolomites tomorrow with my hiking boots, so no more time on the bike for a while) and somehow I have managed to sneak another 1000km-plus month in, five in a row now though it may prove difficult to continue that run as there are various extra-curricular activities lined up for August. After my little jaunt in the West Country I returned to my normal hunting grounds of Cumbria before heading down to Cheshire to ride the Jodrell Bank SUmmer Classic, a gentle sportive through the heart of the Cheshire countryside. Unlike so many sportives which delight in being harder, tougher, longer, this is a ride to savour and enjoy, with only a modicum of climbing. At a tad over 100 miles it was long enough to be a good day out, the only real hardship being an 8am start. I had in mind a sub-6 hour target, and a relatively wind-free day meant that this was a real possibility. The field was not the largest, and once out on the course there were times when it was hard to find other riders. But the spirit of the organisers was willing and we were heralded off on a grey morning from Poynton Leisure Centre, heading west out through leafy Wilmslow and Alderley Edge. After a while I hooked up with a trio of other riders, two from Liverpool and one from Wolverhampton. Having set off slow and steady, I managed 27km in the first hour, the pace was good and we found this easy to maintain. Sadly when we reached the first feed my companions opted for a feed stop, I was only after a top-up of fluids so I was back on my own again. By now the morning was warming up and the sun was breaking through. This might yet be a nice day. Soon, as we got nearer to Chester, I was riding on familiar roads which form part of my training rides and I felt more comfortable. Once again I teamed up with a couple of riders who were setting a similar pace and we eventually rode into the village of Malpas, pretty much half way. Just over 3 hours on the clock, my sub 6 hour ride was still a possibility. The return ride was pretty much a solo effort as my two companions fell by the wayside, but with the sun on my back and the distance to go steadily dropping I felt good. At about the 75 mile point I happened to glance to my left, through hedges, and there was the fine sight of the Jodrell Bank telescope, and then it was gone. I didn't see it again. So much for the name! The kilometers ticked away, and as the clock ticked away I made a series of mental recalculations. It was going to be close but I should manage my target. The roads into Macclesfield were tough, with some long drags and steady inclines to slow my pace, but before long the village of Poynton was on the radar and I finally rode through the gates and across the line, stopping my Garmin in 5 hours 53 minutes. Job done. All in all, it was a very enjoyable day, a lovely route with some beautiful countryside. The lack of big, steep hills was an attraction, and judging by the many smiling faces I probably wasn't alone with that thought.
The 2014 Tour de France has reached its conclusion, with another intriguing sprint finish on the Champs-Elysées. I imagine nobody would begrudge Vicenzo Nibali his victory, he was far and away the strongest rider in the race and laid down the foundations of his win as early as stage 2 with his impressive finish in Sheffield. The clincher for me was his performance on the wet cobbles of northern France where he and his team gave a masterclass on how to take advantage of those awful conditions. The fact that Chris Froome was out of the race by then was probably an irrelevance. Yet again Alberto Contador showed that he is not the rider he was before his doping ban, and he lost big time over those cobbles which led to his taking risks and eventual crash and exit a few days later. The excitement derived from the battle for the remaining podium places and that was a real nail-biter, going all the way as it were. Alejandro Valverde looked to have second place all but sewn up after some dogged resistance in the mountains but faded badly in the time trial, leaving the way open for Jean-Christophe Péraud to clinch a well deserved runners-up place after some impressive rides behind Nibali. Thibaut Pinot made it a French 2-3, something they have been waiting for for a long time. Whether he can step up and take to coveted yellow jersey at some future point remains to be seen. One assumes that had Froome and Contador made it to Paris Pinot might have had to settle for top 5. But the overall flavour of the race was all about Nibali and the fact that he really was a class apart. He now has a full set of Grand Tour victories, and it will be interesting to see what happens in 2015 when he, Froome and Contador go head to head again.
Totals for July
Distance ridden: 1003km
Total ascent: 9480m
July 16th 2014: A tour of the West Country
A few days away visiting family always seems like an opportunity, after all popping the bike in the car is easy enough. Driving down to the West Country last week I was looking forward to stretching my legs on some of the glorious Devon climbs, with the weather set fair for a few days. Dartmoor is well known for it's leg-breaking sportives and the dramatic Tour of Britain finish last year on Haytor. It is a splendid place to visit. I got the chance to take the bike out for a spin on a couple of evenings and chose the Haytor climb in the first instance, close enough to get there and back in an hour and a half. It was one of those evenings when the breeze seemed to be forever in your face, but that didn't detract from the climb (check it out on the Great UK Climbs tab on the left) which pulls you up from the sleepy town of Bovey Tracey high onto the wild open moor. Strangely, I saw very few other cyclists out on what was a very pleasant evening, for such an iconic climb it is unusual not to see a regular flotilla of riders tackling the challenge. And the reward, of course, is the descent, technical enough to make it interesting and exhilirating in parts, though sections through the wooded part of the climb merit some care and attention.
A couple of evenings later I had another chance to get out and decided to go and tackle the other categorised Dartmoor climb from that epic 2013 Tour of Britain stage, Six Mile Hill. Bizarrely, the hill is barely a kilometer in length, its name apparently deriving from the fact that it lies 6 miles out from Exeter. Short it may be but it is still tough enough, with an average gradient of 8%, to be given a Cat 2 rating. From the foot of the climb it is pretty relentless all the way to the top where a set of roadworks threatened to interrupt my flow. Fortunately as I approached they turned green and I was able to crawl my way over the top and enjoy the fast descent into Dunsford. As time permitted, I decided to loop round and try again but this time the traffic lights had the last laugh, turning red on me as I approached and bringing me to a juddering halt. Ah well. The ride back down the Teign Valley is a real pleasure, and something to be savoured, so I did.
Heading home after family visits is always a sad affair, but gave me the chance to take a little detour into the Somserset Mendip hills and the eponymous Cheddar Gorge, a climb that has been on my radar for some time now. Cheddar in July is always going to be busy and today proved to be no exception. For all that, this is a climb to be savoured, not least for the stunningly magnificent cliff scenery which the road winds its way up through and onto the Mendip tops. I can't really think of any other road like it in the UK though someone will not doubt be able to correct me on that. Again, the ride features on the Great UK Climbs tab on the left. Today I had in mind to ride it twice, hopefully before the forecast rain came, the first time as a bit of a recce, the second with a bit more purpose. The lower reaches of the climb really do take the breath away as I craned my neck to see the sky above the towering cliffs, before eventually climbing up through woodland and out onto the open fields high above the valley below. A fast and steep descent was inevitable and before I knew it I was back at the foot of the climb ready for a second bite at the cherry. It was every bit as good second time round, I had saved a bit in the tank and shaved a whole 4 seconds off my time for the climb – admit it, you're impressed! Perhaps next time I'll take the camera with me and grab some shots too – I will return.
July 7th 2014: Le Grand Départ, France comes to Yorkshire
It was the grandest of Grand Départs. Christian Prudholme has been quoted as saying that the start of this year's Tour de France has exceeded all expectations. It certainly was quite a party. The crowds lining the route as we rode into Leyburn on Saturday morning were raucous and encouraging, no doubt enjoying the sight of young Paul, resplendent in cloth cap and pipe, quite a contrast to his lycra! I have to say that it felt like most of northern England had descended on Yorkshire for the cycling event of the year. The crowds were simply amazing. And everywhere you went it was all smiles.
Our journey into Yorkshire on the Friday had been rather more stressful, with long queues as thousands obviously had the same idea. We went off piste and took the minor roads through the northern Dales down to Reeth and Leyburn, where the dismal weather was hardly dampening enthusiasm. Hundreds of cyclist were out riding the route, manfully battling the elements as rain and winds swept down Swaledale. We eventually arrived in Wensleydale, where we pitched our tent high above the valley and waited for the rain to pass through.
By Saturday morning it was clearing and the forecast was set fair. The weather was going to do us proud and, after a leisurely breakfast, we took to our bikes and found our way on to the race route to ride into Leyburn. Riding closed roads was rather enjoyable, especially with those entusiastic crowds cheering us on. By the time we reached Leyburn the town was awash with lycra as thousands had had the same idea. It was truly party-time. What followed was just one long cycle-fest, with colour, noise and laughter. People cheered as the police rode through, high fiving with the crowds lining the route. We watched the action on the big screen in the town square as the stage developed and the peloton got ever nearer. The publicity caravan rolled through, always a bit of fun and the crowd cheered some more. And all the while the sun shone.
By now the race had clambered over the steep slopes of Buttertubs, with big Jens Voigt leading the way in his final tour. “Shut up legs” has become quite a catch-phrase. By the time they came over Grinton Moor and began the fast descent into Leyburn he was caught, but had done enough to take the Polka Dot jersey. Now the race to the sprint finish was beginning in earnest and they swept into Leyburn. The crowd went ballistic, cheering and clapping as the peloton stormed by in a flash and blur of colour. It was spectacular. And short. There were a number of stragglers, riders had been distanced over Grinton Moor though they would, in the main, regroup before the finish in Harrogate. We settled to watch the conclusion of the day's action on the big screen as it wound up for the grand finale. As the sprinters gathered, ready to pounce, there was a collective gasp at a crash in the peloton and Mark Cavendish went down. It was left to Marcel Kittel to take the day's honours, though much of the glory belonged to Jens Voigt for his lonesome breakaway ride. The crowds slowly drifted away and we took to our bikes once more for the ride back to out campsite and the inquest as we mulled over the day's dramas and highlights. It had been one of those days that thoroughly lived up to our expectations.
July 2nd 2014: Tour Fever
It is now just 3 days to go to Le Grand Départ and the excitement is rising across the land. The Tour de France is coming to Yorkshire and everyone has gone just a little bit potty. There are yellow bikes and painted sheep seemingly round every corner and it is widely expected that Yorkshire will be full come Friday night as everyone and their bike arrive to witness this wonderful event. We have chosen a corner of Wensleydale to go and take part, and will descend on the normally sleepy town of Leyburn along with probably 10,000 or so like minded enthusiasts on Saturday morning to wait for the Tour caravan and the race itself to steam through en route to an expected sprint finish in Harrogate. Maybe, just maybe, Cav will come up trumps and win the stage to don the yellow jersey for the first time and everyone will go home happy. It should be quite a day.
Sadly, as the Tour comes to our shores for the first time since 2007, and at a time when British cycling is so strong on a world level, only 4 British riders will start the 2014 tour. It is perhaps sad that teams have felt unable to select some pretty useful riders, the likes of Peter Kennaugh and Ben Swift, not to mention Bradley Wiggins himself, have been unable to secure a place on the Sky team. Other fine Brits such as Ian Stannard, Alex Dowsett and Steve Cummings have also been left out for a variety of reasons. Perhaps most disappointing to my mind was the omission of David Millar from the Garmin team on what would have been his farewell tour, at the grand old age of 37. I suspect though, that the vast majority of the British public will rue the fact that Team Sky have apparently been unable to manage the tension that seems to exist between Froome and Wiggins and opted for the easy way out by allowing Sir Bradley to concentrate on the Commonwealth Games. As I say, it is a shame.
June has, by and large, been a rather fine month to be out on a bike. Unlike 2013 the weather has been far kinder, with warm dry days being the norm. The odd disappointing day hasn't prevented me getting out, but most rides have been in short-sleeves and shorts, a welcome change. I've even been using the sunblock. Highlights have been a rather enjoyable ride out into the Welsh borders with Phil, taking on the Clwyd Gate and Nant y Garth climbs before a very enjoyable descent back down to Chester, and a long ride with Helen (over 100km) to visit the Medieval Fayre at Tatton Park. It was Helen herself who turned to me some 5km from home and suggested an extra loop to take us over the ton. She has come of age methinks - a "real" cyclist!
Since returning from Mallorca there has been a bit of a lack of direction, I have (deliberately) chosen not to opt for a major European sportive this summer, so no Etape or Maratona beckons. Consequently, my riding has lacked a purpose but it has been noticeable that, with the sort of mileage I am managing to do, my fitness levels are rising and my climbing and average speed are improving on a weekly basis. This has been enjoyable, but I was left feeling that it would be nice to ride an event to check out this level of fitness and see how keen I can be. Not many weekends are free but I was able to consider the new Jodrell Bank Summer Sportive, similar to the Jodrell Bank Classic I rode last year, but a tad longer at just over 100 miles. Given its proximity to Chester it ticks many of the boxes and so I put my name down. July 20th will be a fun day on the bike I hope.
Totals for June
Distance ridden: 1362km
Total ascent: 11615m
June 8th 2014: My Synapse rides again
As alluded to in my last post I have spent some time and effort recommissioning my old Cannondale Synapse carbon freame which I took out of circulation at the back end of last year to build my Enigma titanium. When it came down to it I just couldn't bear to part with the Synapse, we have enjoyed some great rides together - two Etapes, a Marmotte not to mention a few UK sportives including the Fred Whitton. With such history it just wasn't right to let her go. So a few months ago I took the decision to keep the frame and, when the time was right, restore it to a former glory, albeit with probably a slightly inferior spec. As it is with a mix of Ultegra and 105, along with a set of old American Classic A420 wheels which have always served me well and are so quick, the Synapse is now complete and itching to go. Today was the day, the sun was shining and Helen and I were up for a café ride, so off we went. A pleasant 30 mile jaunt, stopping for a welcome coffee and excellent slice of chocolate brownie left a positive impression - the Synapse was smooth, comfortable and snappy too. After tea and with the sun still shining, I took a sneaky hour out and this time put the Synapse through its paces. It didn't disappoint as I put in my fastest training ride this year. Gives me a bit of a dilemma as it was really supposed to be a winter bike. Might be a tad too good for that!
June 1st 2014
May has been a pleasant month on the bike, with no pressure to train for a major event, so it's been back to riding for enjoyment, a bit of a novelty. And somehow the weather has been good enough (despite a fair amount of rain) to rack up some serious miles during the month. Helen and I have had the chance to get out for a few rides, including some pleasurable leisure rides in some warm sunshine. The long evenings mean rides after work are easy to fit in too, so Paul and I have got together for the odd foray into the northern Lakeland fells as he builds his stamina and strength for his racing season which is now underway. I even managed a couple of decent long rides as I targetted the latest Strava monthly challenge. My Trek Domane returned from Mallorca in a state of some disrepair and required some downtime as the bottom bracket was replaced. Back on the road now it is such an exciting bike to ride. I have made a few tweaks and changes to the setup on my new Enigma titanium bike and this seems to have made the longer rides more comfortable – struggling with shoulder pains after 100k or so on a ride was getting a bit tedious. I have also revisited my decision to decommission my trusty Synapse, dismantled last Autumn after four very enjoyabel seasons to make way for the new titanium ride. I always enjoyed the Synapse ride and have decided to rebuild it, albeit with a slightly inferior spec, to replace one of my Ribble bikes which is getting a bit long in the tooth. Hopefully it shoul;d be up and running in the next few weeks.
On the international scene May has been a fascinating month with various stage races tickling our palettes. First up was the Tour of California where Bradley Wiggins, supported by a strong Team Sky line-up, completed a solid week of racing by taking the overall victory, the first Brit ever to do so. Team Sky also experienced success at the Bayern Rundfahrt stage race where Geraint Thomas took a worthy overall victory, setting him up nicely for a place on the Tour de France team. Not sure that Wiggo will be joining him as Sky seem to be angling towards omitting him from their team, probably in favour of Richie Porte as Chris Froome looks to repeat his victory of 2013. It all looks set to be an interesting run-up to Le Grand Depart in Yorkshire come July 5th. Talking of Grand Tours, the Giro d'Italia has been a fascinating 3 weeks of intrigue and drama. As last year, the weather has played its part, with riders complaing of the rain in Northern Ireland only to find it worse when they got back to Italy. Cadel Evans rolled back the clock for a while as he held the Maglia Rosa for several days before succumbing to the inevitable and Nairo Quintana took on the mantle of young pretender. As the race went on he increasingly looked the part and thoroughly deserved his overall victory to take his first Grand Tour at the age of 24, the first Colombian to do so. It was a fine performance. Indeed, it was a Colombian one-two with Rigoberto Uran finishing runner-up for the second year in succession. Team Sky had a disappointing Giro but look to be saving their powder for the Tour, so perhaps not that much of a surprise.
Totals for May
Distance ridden: 1315km
Total ascent: 10749m
April 26th 2014: Mixing it with Big Mig on Mallorca
As Paul and I rode out along the Mallorca shoreline from Port Pollenca, heading for Alcudia early on Saturday morning, the light of the not yet risen sun gave a warm glow out over the almost totally calm seas, it was one of those moments when you realise how special it is to ride a bike. At 6 in the morning I would far rather have been tucked up in bed, but this was the Mallorca 312 and we were due on the start line at 6.30.
Along with 1800 other particpants, including fellow Team Geri-Atrics riders David and Graham, we converged on the start line, jostling for position in the starting pens. Paul and I clambered over the fencing and found ourselves well placed about 100 metres from the start line. There was an excitement, and some apprehension, especially for Paul who had committed to the 312km full course. I was opting for the rather more sedate 167km, the "short" route! Both routes had time limits, so we knew we had to ride well, but for Paul it was a journey into the unknown - riding over 200 miles in one day represented a colossal effort. Fortunately we were blessed with a glorious day, sunshine was forecast and temperatures in the twenties with only gentle breezes. After the heavy rain of the day before it couldn't have been much better. The day before had forced us to stay off the bikes, probably not a bad thing as the enforced rest gave us a chance to recharge after a full-on few days taking on the best that Mallorca has to offer, with some 300km under our belts already. We had gently cruised down to Alcudia in the evening for the sportive presentation where we had the chance to meet with past heroes, including Oscar Freire, Fernando Escartin, Joseba Beloki and the one and only Miguel Indurain, who were all riding the event. Talk about a star-studded field.They take their sportives seriously here on Mallorca, and the 312 was no exception.
At just after 7am the first riders rolled out over the start line and we were away. Clipping in and finally getting underway is always a relief after the waiting. Pretty soon we were flying up the Alcudia broadway, pushing speeds of 40kph as riders enjoyed the first flat section of the ride. This part of the course is neutralised, all the way to the foot of the first climb, the Coll de Femenia which comes after about 26km. To be honest you wouldn't have known as the speeds were frenetic to say the least. By now the sun was up and the seas of Alcudia Bay were now shining blue in the early morning sunshine. To be fair, there wasn't much time to enjoy the spectacle. Before we knew it we were flying through Port Pollenca, past our hotel and then inland toward that first climb. No sign of the star riders, I imagine they were already on the lower slopes of the climb enjoying themselves. And then we were too. At this point I said goodbye to Paul, wishing him luck for the day, and there he was gone as I stopped to remove my now rather unnecessary jacket. From now on I was on my own.
Both routes are front-loaded with the bulk of the climbing coming in the first 90 kilometers. The neutralised section had served to warm riders up, now the gloves were off and it was every rider for themselves. What was good to see was the fair smattering of female riders in the fields, far more than grace your typical UK sportive. And the number of Brits was enough to catch recognisable snippets of conversation as the huge peloton ground its way up Femenia. The trick with all such continental climbs is to find a rhythm and ride your own race. My speed uphill is nothing to shout about, and I was worried about doing too much too soon and having nothing left in the tank for the fast run into the finish. Steady was the order of the day, and many riders were passing me - satisfyingly I passed many of those same riders later in the ride. After a while, it all settled down and having found my comfort zone I found myself with riders tapping out a similar pace up the climb. Time to strike up the odd conversation and while away the climb, something which makes the kilometers tick by so much quicker.
By the time we rolled over the top of the climb, my legs were feeling good, I had managed to avoid spending too much effort, and we now had some respite as we rolled along toward the monsatery at Lluc and the next climb. At this point I was elated to catch and pass the team of green polka dot riders, tasked with riding the broom-wagon pace for the 312. Basically, stay ahead of them and you're doing ok. I didn't see them again. By now the field had thinned out somewhat, the faster riders having long since disappeared up the road. I am never more than mid-field, but it was gratifying to still be passing riders on this rolling terrain. My descending in particular always gives me an edge here. The next big climb was the long drag up to Puig Major, the highest point of the route, reaching the first water station after 50km at Gorg Blau.
It was, shall we say, chaos as riders took to stopping in the middle of the road, insisting on taking their bikes with them to get their bottles filled rather than parking up at the side of the road, and quite simply paying no attention to other riders around them. It didn't pay to linger, the clock was still ticking of course. As the road topped out on Puig Major we were plunged into a short tunnel before emerging on the far side of the mountains with the sleepy town of Soller nestling far below. What followed was quite the most exhilirating descent, some 16 kilometers of fast and smooth tarmac where you were able to simply let the bike do the work. Talk about fun. Here I was in my element, catching and passing so many who had tapped their way past me on the climb. Sadly, all too soon we were down in Soller which meant yet more climbing.
The next section was really two climbs taking riders up first to the pretty village of Deia, high on the northern cliffs of Mallorca, an idyllic landscape where it would have been nice to linger, and then on up to Valdemossa, where the final decision about just how seriously you were taking this event had to be made. Turn right and it was another 220 kilometers right round the island, turn left and it was the relatively easy jaunt back, a mere 80 kilometers and the bulk of the climbing done. I was going for the "easy" option, Paul had already turned right and was pounding his way out along the Mallorcan coastline. Suddenly the field was much thinner and following a lovely descent from Valdemossa to the central plains it was time to head east back along the flanks of the mountains to Alcudia and glory. I now found myself on my own for a while, always harder at this stage of an event with heavy legs and still a way to go. After a few miles a large group came by and, with an effort, I latched on to the back and sat in as we ate up the miles. The pace was high, probably harder than I was comfortable with, but it was probably easier than working solo. We hit a short climb and this broke the back of the bunch, but enough of us stayed together to carry on until we reached the last feed at Benissima where most of the riders pulled over. I had no need to stop so said my thanks and ploughed on.
It was into the endgame now and I began to realise that my target of a sub-7 hour finish was on the cards. The roads were undulating rather than hilly, but each draggy climb was an effort as the kilometers rolled by. For a while I rode with a group of local club cyclists doing the event but found their lack of consistent pace frustrating so carried on at my own pace again. The smell of the sea was near again by now as the clock ticked over 6 hours. We finally left the mountains behind us and turned south from Pollenca for the final effort down to Alcudia and Platja Major and the finish. I try to ride events like this in a manner which gives me something left in the tank for a strong finish and found today I had judged my efforts well, surging down the broadway to the finish and tearing round the final roundabout, the road traffic held back by a helpful policeman on marshall duty, then it was the long sprint past 3 other finishers to take the plaudits (well, the t-shirt anyway!). 6 hours 42 minutes according to my Garmin, more than meeting my hopes and expectations. Even my official time of 6 hrs 45 (they didn't take into account the 3 minutes it took me to cross the start line) was good enough to place me 358th out of 811 finishers, more than respectable for an old git! Even more surprising was to later find that Big Mig, Beloki and co were a mere 13 minutes in front of me. Had I only known...
At this stage I had no idea how Paul was getting on and I found myself fretting over how he might be faring. I needn't have worried. Once we had internet access back at the hotel we were able to tap into realtime updates and found that he and Graham were flying along nicely and looked set to complete in under 12 hours, a magnificent achievement. In the end they did just that, with a time of 11 hours 53 minutes. Again, a finish in the top half of the fields. With David riding the 167 also completing in under 7 hours Team Geri-Atrics riders had maintained our reputation.
Very rarely do I reflect on a sportive with any sense of total enjoyment. Most UK sportives are rdiculously hard, there seems to be a culture of the harder the better. I have to say this doesn't really do it for me, I really do prefer to "enjoy" the ride at the time, not just later when looking back reflecting on the achievement. Mallorca certainly ticked the boxes on that front. The weather, the route, the scenery and the organisation all made it a wonderfully enjoyable day on the bike and most of the people I spoke to either on the ride or after seemed to echo that sentiment. Would I go back and ride it again? Without hesitation. Should you give it a go? Of course, you never know you might just beat Miguel Indurain!
Totals for April
Distance ridden: 1507km
Total ascent: 19585m
April 20th 2014: Mull on thin tyres
Until this week I had never been to Mull. It is often described as Scotland in miniature, but then so is Arran. It does possess Scottish attributes in spades – castles, narrow winding roads, white sandy beaches, dramatic cliffs, some stunning mountains and (in summer) midges. We chose not to go in summer which was definitely a good move. Camping next to a babbling burn high above Tobermory (aka Balamory) had we been even a month later I suspect it would have been purgatory. As it was, not a midge in sight. Heaven. Helen and I took Pete and Sharon along for the ride as they too had not been before. We made the last ferry late on Monday afternoon and by evening we were snaffling fish and chips followed by a cheeky half down in Tobermory, plotting our adventure for the next day. The forecast was set fair and we were ready.
The thing we noticed first and foremost about Mull is that it is not flat. We planned to do a circular route round the coast of the northern third of the island, taking in Dervaig, Calgary, Kilninian and Salen before heading back up to Tobermory by the islands arterial A-road, a single track sliver of tarmac on the east coast. Before Dervaig we had already taken in two pretty chunky climbs, a fast enjoyable descent in between and a more technical and demanding one into Dervaig itself. It was far too early for a coffee stop and, in any case, nowhere seemed open, so we pressed on for Calgary Bay. Yet more hills with views of the Hebridean islands to the north before we dropped down into Calgary village where I spied an inviting tearoom. Well, it would have been rude not to...
Calgary Bay held some special memories for Helen and she told us tales of camping on the beach, eating fresh mackerel and watching the stars through the night. But time was pressing so we continued. More hills, this time a signifcant and seemingly never-ending slog over the next lumpy peninsula. The sea views were stunning, and the camera was working overtime. By the time we reached Kilninian the clock was against us and we took the decision to make a direct line back to Dervaig over the moors road, a wild and exciting rough tarmac single track road which brought us to a sudden and steep descent into Dervaig village. The shop was now open and we took advantage grabbing drinks and sandwiches which we ate in the afternoon sunshine. All that remained was the climb/slog back over to Tobermory. It really is a lovely road but tired legs meant that the team were not enjoying it as much as they perhaps should. Nevertheless, it had been a good introduction to riding on Mull, the scenery didn't disappoint and the roads were generally quiet and not too harsh on the bikes.
A couple of days later we were back on the bikes, watching the weather which promised a fine dry day with some sunshine but a fierce north-westerly. Dervaig beckoned from where a road heads south-east through the heart of Glen Aros across the middle of the island to Salen. The prospect of a tailwind blowing us was too good to resist, so we headed out once again over the lumpy road to Dervaig, enjoying the switchback climb over Achnadrish. In Dervaig we turned left and immediately felt that tailwind pushing us up the valley. This was nice. Probably the nicest road so far, quiet and generally well graded, the next 20 kilometers slipped by all too soon and before we knew it we were riding into Salen and looking for some lunch. All that remained was the long slog up the main road to Tobermory, fighting constant traffic on a single-track A-road which was sadly not very bike-friendly, and suffering the payback headwind all the way. This was not a flat ride either, but eventually we made it back to the campsite feeling smugly satisfied.
How sad am I? The prospect of riding the Glen Aros road again, solo and with that tailwind was too much and I set off on my own to repeat the route. I was able to enjoy the climbs over to Dervaig and Glen Aros was a delight. No photos this time, just my legs spinning away as the tyres hummed over the tarmac. Even the unpleasant single-track A-road section back to Tobermory didn't seem quite so bad this time. A good way to end, but Helen and I feel we have unfinished business on the island. We will be back.
April 13th 2014: A bit of a Skylark
British Cycling's inaugural Skylark sportive was not a cake walk. Taking on some challenging climbs in the heart of the Pennines on the Lancashire/Yorkshire border it was a testing day out. Add to that an incessant strong westerly wind which blew all day long and it was a toughie. Paul and I rolled up to the event HQ at Marsden golf club, where the 300 or so fellow riders were busying themselves ready for the off. First riders were away at 8, we opted for a more leisurely start to the day aiming to be on the road by 9. Signed on and Garmins at the ready, we were under starters' orders by 8.50 and away we went. The first thing of note on the sportive was a steady, grinding climb straight from the off into that aforementioned headwind. Not fun. Once on the moors the wind swirled and care was clearly going to be required in crosswinds to ensure we stayed upright! Thankfully the weather was dry so at least we didn't have to cope with damp roads which was a relief. The organisers route choice was a tad convoluted but took us steadily north, avoiding main roads where possible (not always a good thing given the state of some of the minor roads) until we plunged down into Calderdale and dragged ourselves to the foot of Cragg Vale, first of the two major Tour de France stage 2 climbs on today's route. Cragg Vale is renowned as the longest continuous uphill road in England, at nearly 6 miles, climbing steadily rather than steeply. It is not a hard climb, except for the wind, and by now we were in amongst a plethora of fellow Skylarkers taking on the challenge. At this point Paul launched his bid for a decent time on the Strava segment for the climb (I already had one from a couple of years back and felt the wind was not going to give me a sporting chance today). I met him at the top where he looked annoyingly fresh despite his efforts! From here, the top of Blackstone Edge, we were now about to enjoy the single best part of the ride, the long descent down into Ripponden with that wind now firmly at our backs. We flew down, relishing the moment which was over all too soon, and – yep, you guessed it – another climb. I did find myself questioning the organiser's choice of route, wondering whether they perhaps had a sadistic streak. We headed steadily south and east toward Holmfirth, and the start of the climb to Holme Moss, second of those TdF climbs. The wind was showing no sign of abating and I was seriously questioning the wisdom of making the climb when we were pulled in at the foot of the climb proper by marshalls to be told that the climb was closed and that we were being re-routed back toward the finish, missing out Holme Moss itself. I have to say I felt some relief at this, only to find that the route now took us plunging down to a reservoir and straight back up the other side on a 25% climb. Really, by now I was not impressed. Either there are no flat roads in Yorkshire, or they were doing their best to send us up all the hills. Eventually we rolled down into Marsden and slogged our way up the lower part of that first climb past the golf club, reaching the finish in just over 5 hours 20 minutes, not the speediest of times but respectable enough. Despite the wind, I have to say the scenery was spectacular at times, and when we weren't being sent up yet another steep climb, or down an unpleasant uneven descent, much of the route was enjoyable. Organisation was also very good, and we were left with a nice feel at a very pleasantly organised event where riders were there to enjoy themselves rather than being hellbent on getting round as fast as possible. And with nearly 2400m of climbing in the 98 kilometers it was truly a tough sportive. Now we can sit back and wait for the pro peloton to hit those same roads in July and smile quietly to ourselves as they “enjoy” their day out in Yorkshire.
April 8th 2014: The season starts here
It is now only 2 weeks until we fly out to Mallorca for our traditional spring getaway. It will be a week of some intensity as we are there to ride, ride, ride. As already mentioned, at the heart of our week there is the Mallorca 312 sportive, something I am trying hard to hone my fitness for. Given that both Miguel Indurain AND Stephen Roche are due to ride, it would be a shame not to honour their presence with a decent ride. I have thought long and hard about the sportive: I suspect that riding the full 312 kilometer option will have such a profound impact on my week there that I have (somewhat reluctantly) decided to go for the 167 kilometer route, still a challenging enough ride in itself with all 5 classified climbs which feature on the longer ride. This means that I can enjoy the rest of the week without feeling I need to limit my efforts and save myself for the Big One. As a result I am now far more relaxed about the whole thing. Paul on the other hand is adamant that he will ride the 312 in its entirety and I will certainly be rooting for him!
Ahead of that, this weekend we have the British Cycling Skylark Sportive, a “short” 100 kilomtere thrash over the hills which feature on Stage 2 of the Tour de France later this summer, including Cragg Vale and Holme Moss. Paul and I are signed up for this and see it as a bit of a training ride ahead of the 312. It will be far from a given, though, with over 2000 metres of climbing according to the event organisers, my legs feel tired already. I am trying hard to up the ante with my training and am picking ever more hilly routes when I head out. Now that the clocks have finally gone forward and we have longer evenings this is making life easier. Consequently March saw me logging over 1000 kilometers on the bikes, quite gratifying. This is in part thanks to Strava and their personal challenges which have been quite a driving force for me.
The spring classics are now well underway and we have seen some real classic races. The Tour of Flanders this last weekend was an epic with Spartacus himself, the amazing Fabian Cancellara, triumphing in a 4-way sprint after riding a tactically brilliant race. Geraint Thomas had a mixed day, crashing yet again, but picking himself up to finish a fine 8th, his best result to date. And Marcel Kittel made it 3 in a row for the Belgian semi-classic Scheldeprijs today, outsprinting Tyler Farrar and Danny Van Poppel to lay down a big marker ahead of the bigger races this summer. He surely is a sprinting force to be reckoned with and we can look forward to some classic tussles with Mark Cavendish, if he can recover some fitness after a lean spring.
Totals for March
Distance ridden: 1029km
Total ascent: 9205m
March 23rd 2014: So close for Cav, even closer for Swifty
I don't know about you but Milan-San Remo always seems to be the season curtain-raiser. Never mind Paris-Nice or the Tour of Qatar, this is when the gloves come off and the big boys come out to play. After Cav's spectacular win by a hair's breadth in 2009, coming from nowhere to pip Heinrich Haussler on the line, 2014 seemed to offer his best chance of a repeat after several route changes by the organisers. Yet again the weather played its part, though there wasn't quite the extremes of last year, and I suspect many of the protaganists were taken out of the mix by the rain and cold. Against all the odds, as they came down from the Poggio Cav was still in there, though the cost was not insignificant. He was pretty isolated without any teammates to help on the run-in. Consequently he was realy left to his own devices as the final act was played out. Ominously, Cancellara was there, but amazingly he decided against his trade-mark lone strike for victory, perhaps because he's tried and failed with that ploy before. Coming into the final kilometer it was all together, even Andre Greipel had managed to get back into the bunch though he looked pretty spent with the effort. Team Katusha were far and away the best organised and, in some repsects, it wasn't a surprise when Alexander Kristoff burst clear, sweeping past all and sundry to take the biggest victory of his burgeoning career ahead of nouveau-sprinter Cancellara, and a fast-closing Ben Swift who thoroughly deserved his podium place after a brilliantly gutsy ride. Cavendish led the sprint briefly but his legs seemed to give out, presumably from the effort of getting over the Cipressa and Poggio climbs on his own and finally succumbing to the cold conditions. Nevertheless, in finishing 5th he demonstrated yet again that he can be a force in MSR. Maybe next year...
Somehow we have escaped the usual winter snow and ice so far this year, though I can't help but think it might have been preferable to all the rain that so many have suffered across the UK. Mercifully, March has brought some respite with mild, dryer conditions though the winds have continued to buffet the intrepid cyclist out on a mission. My mission has been preparing for Mallorca next month and trying to ensure a degree of fitness ahead of the Mallorca 312 sportive. Headlining the event are both Miguel Indurain and Stephen Roche, it's rather nice to think that I shall line up with them at the start, though that may well be the last I see of them! Yet again the opportunity to rack up some miles has given me a good base endurance, underlined last week by my first 100 mile ride of the year (ticking off the latest Strava Gran Fondo Challenge in the process). I came up with a rather enticing route south from Chester, heading out to parts unknown on the Shropshire border, before turning back north near Shrewsbury, taking in delightfully sounding places such as Gobowen, Clive, Myddle and Ruyton XI Towns on the way. And it stayed dry amazingly enough which, it must be said, has been a trend for much of March.
March 2nd 2014: Spring?
February has seen the cycling season really get underway with a number of races across the globe. From a British perspective perhaps the most signifcant has been the Tour of Oman in which Chris Froome successfully defended his title after a storming ride on the summit finish to Green Mountain in which he took time out of all his rivals, laying down a marker for his Tour de France ambitions come July. It was a dominant display. The same week saw Mark Cavendish finally secure his opening win of the season with a sprint finish on the final stage of the Tour of Algarve in Portugal. At the moment he looks to be behind both Marcel Kittel and Andre Greipel as the sprinters look to score bragging rights ahead of the bigger races later in the year. Write him off at your peril!
We are into March and yesterday saw a startling performance from our very own Ian Stannard who surprised probably just about everybody by winning Omloop Het Nieuwsblad, the first semi-classic of the season over in Belgium. This really was a stunning result, the first Brit to win the race, and easily his best result to date. Sadly, at the same time out track riders are struggling in Cali at the World Track Championships with only really the women gaining any successes so far. We are mid-campaign when it comes to the Olympics cycle, so perhaps we shouldn't read too much into these results, but it is clear that the Germans and Aussies particularly have strength in depth in their squads now.
I have had plenty of opportunity to get out and ride during the last ten days or so. The fact that it is actually daylight when I finish work now means I can just about get an hour in before the night closes in, enough to do some hill training as I think ahead to Mallorca which is less than 2 months away now. On top of that I have enjoyed a handful of longer rides, and sometimes the weather has surprised us by being quite spring-like. Saturday was a case in point with the sun out and lambs in the fields, daffodils blooming and a smattering of snow on the Lake District fells! There was even an opportunity to dust off the summer bike and take it out for a short blast as the roads were dry and thankfully relatively mud-free. As a result I have clocked up (for me) huge mileage in February, hopefully laying down some good base miles for the summer ahead. We shall see!
Totals for February
Distance ridden: 900km
Total ascent: 7650m
February 19th 2014: Storm Force
It's hard to think of further ways to describe the weather that we have endured over the last few weeks given how much has already been said across the various media. It's hard to think that things could have been worse for many, especially in the south west where they have endured so much rain it must be difficult to see an end to it all. Up here in Cheshire and Cumbria it has been a (relatively) mild winter with little in the way of frost and snow so getting out has generally been possible although I have lost count of the number of times I have cleaned my bikes after yet another drenching. The wind has made it interesting at times, but the dedication of the lone cyclist means that there are always a few of us hardy souls out there catching a few more miles in the name of fitness and training.
The last 7 days has given me a variety of rides. Towards the end of last week I managed a couple of late afternoon rides locally taking in a short sharp hillclimb which is great for hill reps, and as Mallorca is now looming it does seem about time I subjected myself to a ramp up in ride intensity. At the moment, the prospect of seeking out the amazing climb of Sa Calobra is a little daunting. On Sunday Helen and I enjoyed a pleasant sunny day, heading out to the wind and surf battered Solway coast in search of a café stop, and despite a chilling south-westerly, thoroughly savoured the feel of sun on our backs. Then on Monday I was joined by good friends Mike and Calum and we headed out to tackle the latest Strava challenge, Gran Fondo 2 - a repeat of the January challenge, namely a 130 km ride of one's choice. We headed out with a grey forecast hanging over us but enjoyed our rather winding ride down to Ullswater and back, capping it off with lunch and great cake at the Pot Place near Penrith before geting drenched on the ride home.
February 2nd 2014: The Dee Bore
January really has been an exceptional month. Never before have I managed to ride quite so much during the month which, in previous years, has thrown snow, ice and the rest at us. 2014 has seen a very wet January, but the welcome lack of freezing temperatures has meant that it has been possible to ride several times every week. Given how much more preferable that is than sitting indoors on the turbo I have leapt at the opportunity and piled on the miles, some 450 in total. Probably not the best quality miles, but riding outside is always a better option. And some of those rides have been truly enjoyable with weather to go with it, although I have ventured out on a couple of days when the sensible thing would have been to batten down the hatches and stay indoors.
But perhaps the most enjoyable ride out came today when Helen and I, along with friends Phil and Barbara, headed out along the River Dee to watch the phenomenon that is the Dee Bore. It is best described as the Severn Bore's little brother, but is no less impressive for all that. A crowd of onlookers gathered on the Saltney Bridge across the river, just downstream from Chester and waited with baited breath as the wave front came steadily up river towards us. The ensuing high tide which followed all but swamped the cycle path (indeed up at Connah's Quay it was underwater for a hundred yards or so). Out along the Dee Estuary marshes the rising waters changed the landscape into a wide seascape. Amazing to witness. Clearly it called for coffee and cake - time to head for the Eureka Café. Great day out on the bikes.
Totals for January
Distance ridden: 717km
Total ascent: 5239m
January 12th 2014: Strava Gran Fondo challenge - tick!
I confess to having mixed feelings about Strava. On the one hand it acts as a great motivational tool, offering comparisons with efforts from previous rides, a chance to see where I am improving (IF I am improving!). This can be extended to freindly rivalry with mates over commonly used routes, much in the way that time-trialling can be used. On the other hand it seems to be attracting an increasing minority of, dare I say it, antisocial riders who are driven by their need to acquire KOM bragging rights at the expense of common decency. The recent furore over a recently opened section of cycle path near Chester illustrates that perfectly, where innocent users are literally being forced off the path by "Strava-louts"
One of the positive aspects of Strava lies in the periodic challenges it lays down, and this is particularly true at this time of year when getting out can be a real battle of mind over matter. With the winds howling, the persistent rain flooding the back garden and the short days providing ample excuse to vegetate in front of the TV, I need all the help I can get. Strava threw down a gauntlet at the beginning of January - Gran Fondo 1. The premise was simple - go and ride 130 kilometers in a single outing before the end of January and you tick the box. Normally at this time of year I don't even get close to that sort of distance in a single ride, the challenge was on. Better still, Paul was also up for it and, as he was imminently about to take delivery of a spanking brand new shiny bike, we thought it an ideal opportunity to take the Gran Fondo Challenge on.
Paul suggested I plan a ride here in Chester and I chose to reacquaint him with the testing roads over the Horseshoe Pass and thenbring us back home via a large sweeping loop through the Cheshire countryside via iconic places such as Trevor, Bangor-on-Dee and Worthenbury. As luck would have it, we picked probably the best day in January to do the ride, after half an hour or so the clouds rolled back and we enjoyed wall-to-wall sunshine and scarcely a breath of wind for most of the day (at least until it set - we rode the last half hour in the dark!). A thoroughly enjoyable lunchbreak in the Y Felin inn in Llangollen (there's always time for a cheeky half) kept us going though Paul was flagging a bit toward the end due to lack of food. Nevertheless, we rode back into Chester at the end of our ride, elated and cheered at completion of the Strava challenge. Job done.
January 1st 2014: Photo highlights of 2013
The start of a new year is a perfect time to have a quick look back at some of the highlights of last year, and photographs provide an ideal medium to do so. The slide show below gives a snapshot of some of those highlights from 2013. Enjoy!
