Author Archives: martinwoolcott

RAB for the fourth time

“I’ve done a you” the sobering words that sent my world into emptiness as I saw my sister Elizabeth on my WhatsApp call. Lying in a bed with a face mask and it hit home what she was saying. Just 24 hours earlier I had said right we need to get you to Land’s End you’ve done the hard work so just ride steadily from now.

Having completed 3 Ride Across Britains and receiving my gold jersey I said that was it. However my sister asked me if I’d ride with her for her 60th birthday challenge, so I signed up again and helped her train over the year.

With the WhatsApp call came the news she had broken her hip in an innocuous accident. My world fell apart riding wise but I knew I had to carry on even if I hadn’t trained as hard knowing my ride would be different this year. I recalled my own accident and subsequent 4 screws in my hip and felt for her. She had to have a full hip replacement 😢.

Having had a good lunch meeting some of the chaperones also we made our way to camp at Land’s End and to register. The bonus was my tent was near the main tent. I sorted all I needed to and then we made our way down to sign for the obligatory photo and a team one. It was strange that our team captain did not even bother to show up. The portents weren’t looking good.

A good dinner was followed by the greet meeting from Nick the CEO of Threshold who I’d met earlier. I’d thanked him for his understanding with Elizabeth. The event had decided to carry on in the aftermath of the Queen’s passing since we would be honouring her by cycling the length of her realm. We were sent to our tents in a good mood ready for the task in hand. I was not nervous having done the ride 3 times before but still was apprehensive as how I would fare. I had brought some electrical tape to have a makeshift black armband as I rode.

Having prepared my kit, affixed my bike number and my drinks bottles, I settled down for what sleep I could muster. First night in a tent is always a bad night; come to think of it so are nights two and three before general weariness kicks in and you sleep like a log.

Day One: Land’s End to Okehampton 105 miles

I awoke at 4.30am having set my alarm for 5am, typical. I went to the toilets and on the way noticed a brilliant view of the Start banner and went back to take a photo. Little did I realise how close I had been to an unfortunate event that came apparent later that evening.

I partially dressed into my kit for the day, my 3 year gold jersey not my Zwifters jersey. I had suggested to everyone that Day 2 we should wear them as Amir had a special jersey for Day 1. My suggestion had meant with approval by the other Zwifters.
As I went to breakfast to meet Amir I noticed 3 riders wearing their Zwifters kit. Strange I thought, whilst the others that I had met were all wearing what they wanted, RAB kit or Charity jersey as per my suggestion.

We wanted to get off early and met at the start queue to be greeted by many of the Threshold crew asking us to check we had our correct bikes. Many all look the same so it can be easy to pick up the wrong one.

Anyway we got to the start and Amir and I met Jonny Indebo from Norway, long story this one about how Amir spent RAB 2021 looking for him not knowing he’d deferred to 2022🤣🤣🤣🤣. We set off on our long journey and as we rode the sun was rising ahead of us as we made good pace up through Sennen and the undulating road to Penzance. As I rode along I became aware that my front derailleur wasn’t shifting well and presumed someone may have knocked my bike or my battery was low but I’d charged it up so it couldn’t be that surely.

Eventually as we descended down to Penzance my derailleur came stuck in the lower ring, not too bad on the lumpy day ahead but it would be a pain, so it must be my battery I thought.

We all stopped as usual at Michael’s Mount for the photo and the sea was as flat as a pancake. We moved on riding the undulating roads to Leedstown where I saw at the very last minute a mechanic by the side of the road. Damn I thought but I’d get to the feed stop and get them to look at it there.

I became detached from Amir and Jonny who I’d been with but not too despondent as they weren’t far in front. However as I rode up a hill I felt my left foot being “kicked out” of my pedal stroked and then an almighty clicking noise as I rode. I stopped at the side of the road to check my cleats and a chaperone, Matt Davies stopped to assist me. Seeing my cleat was still screwed in correctly, I tried to clip back in to set off but my left crank just fell out and lay on the floor. What? I was fuming 😤

Matt helped me ring for a mechanic who would be half an hour. This was the third thing to happen making me think I shouldn’t be riding, Elizabeth, The Queen now a mechanical.

As I waited and many a cyclist passing me Richard Burton my cycling buddy and chaperone stopped too to help me allowing Matt to ride off. I messaged Amir to say I was in trouble and ate some Haribo whilst I waited.

The mechanic came and after 20 mins had reattached my crank and we were away again. Richard pulled me along the roads at an electrifying pace. In fact it was a little bit scary on the narrow lanes that are hazardous with shingle and muck and which twist Tuen and descend quickly. On a couple of occasions I overcooked a corner but also encountered horse riders and the local hunt pack coming down the road too 😫brakes full on.

On one tricky descent a marshal was warning us of mud in the road and at the bottom by a walled bridge I saw a medics car with a rider in Zwifters kit walking away, she had obviously crashed.

We both made it to the first feed stop where we decided it would be a quick one to make some time up. I met Andy Cairns here a very strong rider and fellow Zwifter. We rode out together the three of us making good time. On one climb Richard dropped his chain and I carried on so knowing he would catch me up I videoed him coming up the hill little did I know he was filming me 🤣🤣.

We passed through Truro and the climb out past the rugby club and on to perhaps the worst bit of Day 1 the main road from Truro to St Austell that is busy but we progressed well. Turning off eventually I remembered the short short hill we would tackle. I hate it as we motor along a false flat and we turn right and it hits you. The effort on the false flat for me means I struggle up the hill whereas Richard takes it in his stride. Sadly he dropped me here and I rode along predominantly on my own here.

As I cycled along I was joined by Harry Hunt another chaperone, he is another regular rider on this adventure. Travelling past Darren Green I encouraged him with “Come on Spydermonkey” his Zwift name but he seemed to just blank me for some reason. Still I carried on until Harry stopped to assist with traffic on a small narrow section.

Onwards I travelled down the glorious false flat descent after the village of Whitemoor where you can really open your legs and hit a good speed. It is perhaps the only time on the relentlessly undulating ride on day 1. I hit the A30 junction at Roche and travelled as quickly as I could towards Bodmin making good time. Turning right and then left uphill we were making our wAy to Lanhydrock scene of the infamous crash and rerouting last year. It is a thunderous descent to a sharp right hand bend and the a single track bridge. I descended with care and on to the bridge where I couldn’t believe the refuse lorry on the other side, let’s just say he was ignorant as I was exiting the bridge with traffic calming bollards on the other side.

As I crested the hill on the other side I messaged Amir that I was nearing the second feed stop and he said he would wait for me. It was tough on my own trying to push on to ensure he wasn’t waiting long. However I made it to Doublebois where I regrouped with Richard and Amir. I ate my lunch of sandwiches etc but sadly my two yoghurts and a cup of milk for a drink perhaps wasn’t the best idea as this would comeback to haunt me later on.

Leaving the feed stop you immediately start the long drag to Minions and the highest point of the stage. I felt ok but after 3 miles or so my lunch was sitting on my stomach and I just felt bloated. This combined with the efforts I had made to catch time up just made me out of sorts. We rode along but I just couldn’t hold their wheels at their pace. I did ride up past the photographer with Richard before stopping at the sign for Minions to enable Amir to have his fun.

The descent off Minions is fast and narrow. You need to take care as cars come the other way but we made it down safely. Turning left I became detached from the others and just settled in to ride my own ride to base camp, or so I thought. As I look back I don’t recall this section being too bad despite the way I was feeling as it just goes up and down with each hill being steepish. I really struggled here in 2019 but not this year.

As I came around one corner I saw a mass of cyclists in front of me. The ride had stopped with a road closure. Not again I thought. There must have been 150 or so. Amir called out to me as I slowed and joined the masses. To my fortune, the road was being opened by the police but we would have to ride single file as instructed by the police because a rider had crashed on an “S” bend further up the road. I suddenly found myself towards the front and was escorted by chaperones through the accident where the rider had been airlifted to hospital and onwards where I sat in for the remainder of the ride to Launceston and for Amir to catch me up.

He passed me but I wanted to stop for a drink in Launceston. He dropped me up a climb as I was still suffering but as I entered Launceston he was waving to me at Greggs where we stopped with Neil Beighton last year. I then had an idea of photographing certain places to reminisce about previous years’ rides. Stopping here I had a cake and Fanta before setting off for the last leg to Okehampton.

Through Launceston I wasn’t convinced the flag on the castle was flying at half mast but the descent out takes you to Polson Bridge over the Tamar and into Devon. I couldn’t match Amir up the hill but knew I’d be ok to the finish. Passing Lifton garden centre, I saw Andy and Pauline Elliott. Andy is a previous RABer and I stopped briefly to chat and catch up.

I set off again and just ground out all the climbs until I got picked up by a chaperone and we rode the last 5/6 miles to camp. However the relief of arriving at Sourton with High Willhays and Yes Tor standing round on my right was such a relief. This signifies the brilliant run in to camp. As with Whitemoor earlier you can just hit the speed as it gently goes downhill to a roundabout. The chaperone just sat on my wheel as I drove my legs as hard as I could, rounding the roundabout and over a smaller one to descend in the trees to the turning left and into base camp at Okehampton show ground.

I immediately went to the mechanics and mentioned what had happened earlier where they said they’d ensure all would be right for tomorrow and to comeback at 7pm. The next couple of hours were taken up with a shower and hitting the bar for a Guinness or two and general chat with others of the day.

At the briefing two pieces of information were given to us firstly the rider was ok who had crashed but his ride was over. Secondly the confusion at the start over the bikes was because for the first time in its history, 3 bikes had been stolen from camp around 4am that night. I made a note to ensure my pride and joy would be in as safe a place as it could be each night.

I went to my tent having sorted my bike out and felt a couple of twinges in my Achilles and my left calf. This did not seem good.

Day 2 Okehampton to Bath 120 miles

As usual until tiredness kicks in I had a rubbish night’s sleep. Awake a number of times I just had to rest until I dropped off each time. However I knew I had little to do in the morning as experience tells on this ride. Only get out of the bag what you need to enable you to get off early. The sight in the morning as I left my tent was breathtaking. What a sunrise.

I had breakfast chatting to Jayne Murphy and Martin Sheasby who were riding together but Zwifters and were identifiable as we wore our kit today. I had two luxury items in my bag this year, the first was a hand massage gun for my muscles but secondly my own ground coffee with a thermal mug. Boy was this good at breakfast.

Anyway I got myself ready and met Amir as he was in hotels on the Plus package each night. He wanted to faff around pumping his tyres up and the like.I just wanted to get off. Whilst waiting for him I met Chris Mitchell and Tony Knight fellow Zwifters so agreed to ride together.

The start of day two is fast and furious as it is all downhill to the centre of Okehampton but with a slightly dewy morning the final bit is under trees and dark so I was wary but had to stop at the lights in the centre of town. I decided to take a picture of my Dad’s old office as one of my reminiscing photos. I said I’d catch the others up.

We turned left to traverse our way to Bow and on to Crediton. We motored along this section as the day warmed up.Amir was initially his usual self with the comedy passing the time of day. Climbs were easy, so was speed for me today. One climb out of Coleford that has been bad for me in the past I just breezed up it before we crossed the A377 and by passed Crediton with the steep descent down to Shobrooke.

We now took on the long slog to the top of the hill at Cadbury. I am always sad as I get to here as though there are some sweeping S bends where you pick up speed, it brings you to Bickleigh and for me the turn away from home. I will never tire of my home county but for the next 7 and 1/2 days each pedal stroke was taking me away. It was here Amir told me he was struggling today and wondered how far it was to the feed station. I said around half hour of riding.

The road follows the river Exe to Tiverton and we grouped up and the 3 miles past quickly to Tiverton. The town was quiet and we crossed the A377 and on to the lovely road to Bampton. It is tree lined and quick. Short rises can be taken at a good speed before we turned off at the Black Cat junction on to Bampton and the short sharp climb to the football club being pit stop 1.
The coffee van had a problem so I bought 2 cans of Coke giving one to Amir. We met Andy Cairns since all Zwifters were noticeable wearing our distinctive jerseys. The kit is a great design and comfortable.

We stayed for quite awhile until Amir felt he could start again and the pit stop had very few riders still. However I knew we weren’t at the back of the field.

The route now to Wiveliscombe is pretty quick with a few climbs to tackle but are manageable. Nothing like we were about to tackle. The road sweeps down to the Rock Inn at Waterrow before climbing through trees and on to the Somerset border. As we cycled to it I wanted a photo of the sign but so did another rider. He’d parked his bike at it and was positioned in front of it. I called out politely and he moved as I cycled past.

The one good thing now is a brilliant descent to Wiveliscombe. A sweeping S bend where I noticed a back light flashing in the kerb. I expected Amir to come flying past me but he didn’t. My enjoyment was tempered by the lights in the centre of the town at red.

We left the town and onto the fast road to Taunton but all the while I was thinking of the impending climb and no not Cothelstone. A left turn takes you up a brutal little steep climb. It is immediate and for me horrendous when I’ve been pushing a big gear on the flat. I just engaged the granny gear and ground it out passing a couple of walkers but the “give” as the gradient relents was welcome.

At the top at the crossroads we stopped and took the reminiscing photo for the day as it was here last year that Nathan, Martin Edge, Amir, Will and I christened our insignias. Unfortunately it was just Amir and me today.

Off we went on a tricky twisty road towards Bishops Lydeard and the first of the 3 major climbs on today’s route, Cothelstone. Crossing over the West Somerset railway I stopped to see the steam train below before we traversed to the climb itself. It is brutal but nothing like what was to come later in the ride. Fortunately you get some respite after the initial steep bit. I took this at a breeze before the left turn that gives you a great view of where you have come from. A breather here and road sweeps right before the real test can be seen before you.

Like a wall with no targets to aim for it just rises straight up and keeps going under a canopy of branches. Groans from riders echo as you try to keep pedals turning whilst also concentrating on the cars that were passing you both ways. As I got towards the end of the initial straight bit a car passed me only for a cyclist to be coming at speed round the bend and almost into the car. The expletives were loud and clear.

Onwards and upwards there is another uphill section for 200m or so that I just ploughed on before you bend to the right and hit the false flat ascent to the lay-by at the top where we all regrouped. As I waited for Amir I saw a nice Cavapoo dog “Harvey” at the side. We were also greeted by Nick Tuppen the Threshold CEO but the previous Deloitte cheerleading was missed this year.

When we set off again there is a traverse across the top of the Quantocks before the exquisite and exhilarating descent to Bridgwater through Enmore. You can just let your wheels flow and feather the brakes round the curved bends. You really get full value for the climb you’ve done as you thunder down the road with some long straights and even when levels out your speed carries you with soft pedalling to the outskirts of the town. Amir and I had been joking how things had been “Epic” and we laughed as we took this video.

Passing through the town they had some lovely billboards as a tribute for the late Queen. I have to say this is one of the worst bits of the ride. The traffic generally is poor and I couldn’t get out of there quick enough over the M5 before turning right at some lights that I caught nicely without having to stop. A short rise takes you to another left turn and a beast of a short sharp climb where I passed a couple of walking cyclists but gasped at the top to regroup.

As you crest the top the village of Woolavington comes into view and the Somerset Levels towards the next goal Cheddar Gorge. I motored down with Amir behind me and as I hit the flat said let’s go and hit Exocet mode, tucked in and tapped out a 23/25mph pace along the flat. Amir said keep it going as it was a couple of miles to the second feed stop at East Huntspill. There are a couple of sharp turns but I eased off slightly each time but was enjoying myself. As we slowed towards the feed stop a few riders said to me “good pull, cheers mate”. Little did I know but another 10 or so riders had joined us. We sat and had a good lunch but I also called into the medics tent as I’d noticed a few twinges in my Achilles and I’d become worried. I did have a funny moment as I had been desperate to find some freshly cut pineapple that I hadn’t seen yet. Seeing Karen, the head of logistics for the ride right by me, I asked her if we were getting any sometime. Doh 🙄 guess what was literally right by me that I hadn’t seen yet. Easiest problem solved of the whole ride🤣

Anyway we set off towards the Gorge and passed the recumbent riders. There were two of them with 5 or so support riders. They looked to be having fun and as I passed one of the support team, I made my usual quip quoting what was on their jerseys. Well obviously one guy had a sense of humour bypass as he made an angry comment back. Mind you for the rest of the ride when I passed him he always seemed to be miserable so whilst I encouraged the recumbents and the other team members I didn’t bother with him at all.

We took a slightly different road this year not passing through Wedmore but a lane with shingle and stuff but soon we hit Cheddar. I was going to meet Elizabeth at the top but I wasn’t feeling it today and the climb was a bit of a slog. I wasn’t in the best way as I was soaked through in sweat and with muscles tweaking I wasn’t happy. We had the usual motorbike club riders trying to pass us up the climb on a Sunday afternoon. Amir was behind me and on the main climb and as I cycled on the false flat plenty of riders including Amir passed me. I thought I was riding ok obviously not.

After a little slog we pulled into a lay-by where I met Elizabeth and briefly chatted and caught our breath for the next section to Bath and basecamp. The traverse of the Mendips is quick before we turn left off the road onto a descent within a tree canopy that your speed increases markedly before you hit a T junction to turn left.

Riding this section in my first two years I have always found this a relentless slog of up and downs but last year and this it past quickly without any problems as I look back. Turning left we descend to a village where we had a lovely coffee stop last year but the shop was shut this year. The road takes you up a hill another lovely descent to a road junction at Farringdon Gurney. However it was quite strange to see two guys both wearing the same Rapha green kit and shorts randomly pull off the road, and simply lie down in a field next to each other.

A quick ride through Paulton passing signs for Midsomer Norton, don’t fancy going there and the climb up through Tunley brings you to the outskirts of Bath. If you come from the north or south to Bath you will encounter a steep descent but we were also on a main road. As good as it is with its wide road, you have to have your wits about you. You are tired and traffic is aplenty. It is now that I wished for the old university camp but now we stay on the north side which means yes another climb, Bannerdown to end the day.

However the route takes us through the city centre with its traffic lights, hidden little ramp climbs from standing starts at lights and queues of cars. Amir kept me amused of his day trips here to watch the rugby when at university in Cardiff, enough said 😀 before reminding me that Paul Rattew was supposed to meet us somewhere.

Eventually we took the long road passed the Bath Rugby training ground, over the A4 junction to Batheaston and Bannerdown Hill. It’s not long but horrible at the end of a long day. Crossing the mini roundabout at the bottom you take a left turn and the ascent starts. I just engaged the granny gear and spun. I was okay but felt exhausted and soon the steep gradient was over as we got to the mini roundabout about a third of the way up. We just chatted away to pass the time or to block out the grind when over to the right I saw a cyclist waiting. I said to Amir it’s Paul and we started chanting his name as we edged closer and closer to him.

He joined us for the last half mile or so to the top and the last flat bit to camp. We were not late in but later than usual. I was glad to be there at last and ready to get out of my kit. However I decided to get a beer or two after I’d sorted out my tent.

I joined Richard and some other chaperones somewhat shattered. I also started to use my hand massage gun I had taken this year. I needed that on my legs big time. I then decided I’d have diner, forgo the briefing and go and shower, take my stuff to laundry etc and prepare for tomorrow whilst the presentation of gold jerseys was going on. I was disorganised today but couldn’t fathom out why. This was typified by me not realising I’d left the massage gun in the shower and on returning found it was gone😫. A quick trip to lost property and I had it again. I needed to snap out of this quickly.

I tried to see the physios but the queue was massive so I thought I get there early tomorrow morning. I made a couple of phone calls before turning in for the night to see what sleep I could get. A good but tough tiring day with two hard days done, two transition days to follow and nothing to fear climbing wise until Shap Fell, things were set fair.

Day 3 Bath to Ludlow 99 miles

The first of two transition days where you could relax and enjoy but unlike previous years there would be no Deloitte cheeseboard to look forward to sadly.

I awoke early with my alarm as I wanted to be first in the queue to get my calf taped up. Getting dressed and ready I went to breakfast but was getting fed up of the taste of the cooked breakfast. As I sat down I saw a rider who’d toasted his bread and had fried eggs on top. Oh yes that would be it from now on.

Having eaten quickly I got to the physio tent awaiting their arrival. As I sat with some quarter of an hour to go I was first and then saw Amir arrive from the Plus package. I called out and he popped over as the wake up music came on, Elbow and One day like this. We had a right old karaoke sing a long.

He went to get his breakfast agreeing to meet at 7 for the start. I was concerned that Physio’s weren’t here yet and only as I saw one in the marquee did I realise they weren’t coming to their tent. I went over but got my tape on at the last moment.

There was yet another great sunrise as I walked towards the start and I called Amir but there was no reply. All I heard was “Martin, Martin” in a low soft voice but as I looked around I couldn’t see anyone. Baffled I heard a snigger and there I was stood outside the tent of Tony Knight who had his inner lining zipped up but was peering out of the mesh at the top. We both cracked up.

Eventually Amir turned up and we were ready to go where we met Jayne Murphy and Martin Sheasby fellow RAB Zwifters. The good thing about the start is we avoid Bath traffic and Bannerdown Hill and being an hour ahead the commuter traffic of the M4 junction but it still can be significant.

The first 10 to 15 miles are a nice warm up but you have to have your wits about you as the road surface on the narrow roads through the little hamlets and villages isn’t great. We passed the time with inane chat as we skirted the southern end of the Cotswolds and on towards the Severn bridge. Whilst the roads were getting busier the sun was breaking through the clouds; this was going to be a good day.

The important thing was to relax and enjoy today; concentrate on the road and recover from the past two days. I was riding with Amir, Jayne Murphy, Martin Sheasby and Jonny Indrebo (from Stavanger) all fellow RAB Zwifters and we shared the load chatting and just having a blast. When cycling this way the miles just fly by and soon we were at the Severn Bridge. Martin went the wrong way around the roundabout rather than taking the the designated cycle path and I burst into Amir’s favourite song about fish and Wales. What was good this year was the bridge was emblazoned in the morning clear sky unlike last year’s fog. With all riders wanting to take photos without photobombing or in turn finding a spot to take one myself. I did wait until the middle but there was some works going on.

As I got going again with the others I shouted “car up” to which those behind paid no attention until they saw what I saw. Yes a works van coming the other way. I chuckled to myself but sped on down into Wales where I decided on a slight detour before the first feed station. The cycle path after the bridge is always slow and snarled up as you cross busy roads that lead to the bridge before the long drag to a busy roundabout and the turn to Chepstow town centre. I said where I was going and would meet everyone at the feed station. I turned left and went down the Main Street the old RAB route to take photo of the bridal boutique where Megan, Edward’s wife, bought her dress to send on and the popped down to the castle and the heaving feed station.

I started to become partial to the tins of Tuna with lemon that were on offer this year grabbed a few other items and sat in front of the castle next to Alison Kirrage and chatted away. I had lost Amir but he wore a distinctive helmet and was easy to find again. However before setting off I saw a very long queue for the toilets. I would have wasted 20mins waiting but remembered behind me were public toilets. Sometimes knowledge is key and not only did I save time I bought a bottle of Coke in the shop to drink bonus. I couldn’t believe those who did not take my advice when I told them as I collected my bike 🤷‍♂️ And set off with Jonny and Amir again.

The road crosses a lovely iron bridge back into England again and then up a short climb that arcs around to your right and you can fully see the castle overshadowing the river Wye. We regrouped at the top turned left and took on the slow grind for 10 or so miles to St Briavels. This was effectively the last major climb of the day to cross the Forest of Dean.

As we climbed Amir and I encountered a couple of riders one by the name of Steven Queen. We chatted away and then I cam out with something he’d probably always heard saying, “as a Scot, you really should change your name to McQueen.” He smirked and as he did so my silly mind went one stage further and being topical said “but really I think you should now change your name to King.” He absolutely cracked up at that one saying “that’s a good one.”

Honestly the climb passed without incident and once through St Briavels the road sails along to Coleford a busy town with some annoying traffic lights that really slow you up as there is generally a lot of traffic at a crossroads too. Moving through these there is a turning right and a short climb to another crest before we thunder down through the beautifully named English Bicknor, we were having a blast.

We would soon hit one of my favourite parts of the ride. Being at the top of the Forest of Dean we would descend to the Wye Valley. I remember in 2018 the smooth tarmac of the quick twisting S bends as you increase speed to the valley floor. I wasn’t disappointed this year though the smooth tarmac has deteriorated in the intervening years. The descent through typical forest trees brings you to the river at Lydford. Here many of us stopped to take a photo at the horseshoe bend and Amir and I were in the same jersey today when up popped another rider wearing the same, common the Le Col Strava 8848m jersey.

From here the day as a test is practically done as we hug the Wye for some considerable time and into Herefordshire. I then remembered the reminiscing photo to take of where Richard, Robin and I stopped for a drink at a petrol station in 2018 so we stopped here too.

The weather had been kind again and the sunshine albeit not as hot as last year and we motored along the road without any issues. The children came to wave at us as we road through Goodrich and on to Ross on Wye; a busy town with a narrow street to the centre where you had to shave off any speed you had to the market square and the pedestrians around and descend further out of the main square. We were altogether as we then took on the small climb out towards perhaps the most picturesque part of the days ride. This climb is a bit of a nasty one with so many cars parked either side of the road, plenty of cyclists ascending and then irate delayed motorists descending but not being able to move. A cocktail of disaster one might say. Still I remembered at the top there was a sketchy narrow descent to the river floor again.

I rode up it quite easily no puncture this year and then met Gideon Sherwood again. I’d seen him on days one and two and had chatted to him as he initially was wearing a Royal Navy cycling jersey. Naturally Edward was the subject of the conversation and today to show what a small world this is it was no exception. He had left the Navy and now was employed by the Harbour master as the pilot to bring shipping in and out of Portsmouth harbour. Well Edward had left a couple of weeks earlier on HMS Lancaster on a 4 month deployment and as an officer was on the bridge when guess who was the pilot assisting her leave 🤣 It was always good to see Gideon on the ride who then took a few pictures of some bloke trying to be cool on a bike and failing.

The road dropped to the river and we joined the single track road towards Foy at which point the river is on another horseshoe. I do love this part especially when the weather is kind. Sadly the road takes you onto a narrow stretch with some climbs that you just don’t like. Today I found them easy enough but when the weather is unkind as in 2019 they are horrible.
As we rode along we came across another Zwifter in her kit and I put my hand out and gently pushed her up one incline that she as grateful for. All the while we were heading for Fownhope and the second feed stop at the sports field. The undulating road with fast descents and annoying uphills passed quickly before turning left and into the feed stop.
Whilst I had the usual fare for lunch I had become partial to a cup of milk too. I went to the coffee stall but they had run out of normal milk. What🤷‍♂️🤦‍♂️ If I wanted any it had to be soya milk if any – no thanks so I went and poured myself some squash.

Once ready to leave again Amir and I agreed where the next reminiscing photo would be. Perhaps after the feed stop it is not my best time to cycle. I find it hard to get going again and though it was ok I felt a little off the back now in our group. However on one section I was dropped at a junction and could never get back on to the group of 8 or so especially into a small headwind, so just waited and sure enough I got back on as they waited at a junction. I did remember to remind everyone about one sketchy bit of road to arc left and hit a load of potholes. It is not nice I can say but after 4 years I would have thought these would have been filled by now.

Anyway we hit the outskirts of Leominster and Amir, Steven, Jonny and I stopped at the Aldi store to buy a box of ice creams and some fizzy drinks to have as it was hot but also to encourage other riders to stop and have one. One rider said I’ll take 3 and hand out to his mates who hadn’t stopped. Sorry you had to stop for one. This was what we did in 2021 so was good to reminisce.

So off we set for Ludlow and camp. A nice group of 8 or so but sadly no cheeseboard to look forward to this year, the tradition of Deloitte RABs. Still with around 15miles of riding it wouldn’t take too long. However at one point I heard Amir say it’s alright “we’ll catch him” as I seemed to be bit in front. Red rag to a bull time for me and I thought let’s go then. I despair when racing as the Zwifters online as I can race but only to a point and have to just ride along as I’m not a good B category racer, still I know I can time trial, so knowing they would be having fun and chatting I increased my speed gradually until I’d got a significant lead. Then when out of sight around a corner I’d increase tempo for a bit until such time that I couldn’t see them. Out of sight out of mind mode, then I really hammered it. I know the road quite well, pushed out of the saddle up sharper inclines and pedalled the other side, ensuring my cadence was measured. I was fortunate that any junction I was not hindered by any traffic. I half expected to hear them coming realising what I had done but I was in determined mood. The only thing that concerned me was the climb through Ludlow a long steep climb for quarter of a mile.
The long drag climb at Richard’s Castle taking you into Shropshire was powered up. I controlled my power and breathing to ensure I didn’t blow up because once over the climb and through the village of Overton I knew I had a couple of miles of pure open descent towards Ludlow and to a point I wouldn’t be caught before the uphill.

Down I quickened chasing riders in front of me passing at pace with the dutiful call of “on your right” before hitting the main road into Ludlow praying for the initial traffic lights to be in my favour. as I tapered my speed on the downhill I slowed to the right speed to find they were turning to green and on I went over the river Teme to turn right and towards the final climb. I couldn’t hear any of my group and now I thought just push but don’t exhaust myself. Both in and out of the saddle I climbed up it with ease timing my last push for the lights at the top to be green so as not to lose momentum. through the junction and down passed the Tudor buildings with speed I hit the flat roads at the bottom. Surely they wouldn’t catch me now I thought.

I measured my pace past the school and out of the town and on to the tricky Ludlow bypass. It is a fast road laden with all sorts of traffic and not nice at the end of a long ride but I rode along at a nice pace to turn right and cross the road and onto the road to the racecourse and basecamp. I eased off knowing the breakaway had stayed away today. It is a section of the ride I know and can ride to my strengths. Using the entrance to the racecourse to cool down a bit, I crossed the line and wondered how long Amir would be behind me.

I washed my bike down a bit, pumped my tyres and handed it to the mechanics to add my replacement bit from Day one and then went and bought an ice cream to await Amir and the group. They came in some 6mins after me, I smiled inwardly before catching up with them. It was “RAB Zwifters AGM” night and we had agreed to meet up after dinner but before the briefing.

It is a long walk to the tents from the clubhouse so off I went, phoning Diane to say I was ok for the day and getting my tent where I instantly got my stuff ready for Day 4 before going for a shower and seeing the latest creation at the towel station.
once all ready for dinner I went over to the clubhouse with my massage gun and went and bought a pair of event socks as my jerseys didn’t have a zipped secure pocket where I would normally put my socks for washing and I was running short. I had left others on the tent drying line and as I was elsewhere a nice downpour came so they were wet.

Anyway I met Amir for dinner before having enough time to go and try some yoga stretching as I was aching a bit perhaps after my last effort. I could only do 15mins or so but this was a real fillip and something I would explore again, before going to the AGM, where I received a little trophy for having completed all the RAB Zwifters races earlier in the year even if I didn’t win the event.

My only problem with my trophy was I’d have to take it tomorrow with me to Haydock photographing it at the start all feed stops and the finish as would all the other winners of the categories including Wendy Clark who I’d also seen today, who I told to turn up to collect her trophy too. The AGM (well just a group chat with beers) closed with Amir saying he’d like me to assist running the Zwifters in future, thanks Amir I thought prior warning would have been nice but I was reluctant as I was still feeling it and also believing that this could be my last RAB.

Besides we went off for the briefing with beer in tow before agreeing to meet at the start for the next day that was going to be fun as Amir had arranged a few maracas and horns for us to have some fun with. The idea being that if you saw another Zwifter you handed over what you had for them to use until they saw another to hand on to. So Zwifters kit is was tomorrow rather than day 5 then.

With the briefing done I was off to my tent and bit more admin before turning the light out contemplating whether I really had anymore RABs in me but I was happy and slept well for the first time on the ride.

Day 4 Ludlow to Haydock Park 106 miles

After good night’s sleep I prepared my bag and went off to breakfast. I met Jonny and sat down to eat. The breakfast crew were happy and dancing in time to the playlist on the speakers before serving everyone. Amir joined us as we then thought about our day ahead it was going to be fun.

On leaving the breakfast room I then discovered that I’d left my phone somewhere. Fortunately this was on the table where I’d been but riders nearby had it and were going to hand it in. After my debacle at Bath and the massage gun I had put a sticker on it thankfully.

I agreed to meet Amir at the mechanics and went off to pack my tent up and get ready. On the way back Steven Gregory a chaperone was in the first wave of riders, the quickies, on the start line and the music blaring was the Clash and “Should I stay or should I go”. I had a chuckle at that timing.

On the way back to collect my bike I took my first photo of my trophy at the start line and then got my trusty steed. I was amazed that a much smaller ride was being had this year numbers wise as proved by the number of bikes in the storing pen.

Anyway after Amir did his usual pumping up his tyres faffing we set off. The sun was trying to break through the clouds as we exited the racecourse but this is the longest leg to any feed station on RAB some 45miles. The terrain is extremely rural if not totally agricultural and though not taxing it is a long slog to the first feed. There is really only one climb on the day to the top of the Stiperstones and then it’s not hard save for the last 200metres so armed with our maracas and horns we were ready.

The initial roads twist and turn at right angles and I had the maracas whilst Amir had one of the horns to toot. Every rider we passed got a shake or a hoot. It past the time as we rode along. We caused a lot of merriment.

We came across Gareth Jones who was in his Zwifter kit and so I shaked my maracas at him and then gave them to him to have fun with. We turned on to a main road passed the Seven stars seen of a road traffic accident in 2018 and then left onto the climb of the day. It is narrow and single tracked with the odd bit of shingle but the main bit you can see in front of you. It perhaps leads you into a false sense of security as you ride along pretty quickly before it ramps and ramps again before hitting 15%. I took it in my usual way and waited for Amir at the top before a sharp tree lined descent on the other side that at least was in the dry and not slippy this year.

Once over the top of Wilderhope Manor the ride is effectively a flat ride to Haydock and really is a case of how quick you want to be. We were happy as the road undulates through England’s green and pleasant land with hamlets such as Much Wenlock, Church Stretton, Kelley and Stoke on Tern. Amir started with his jokes again and we encouraged many riders by chatting to them. I saw Chris Hutchings a friend of Nick Swan a South West Rabber and rode with him for a while past many agricultural pens. I was enjoying it whilst eating a banana from breakfast that I took, for the length of this stage.

The weather was more overcast with no sign of rain and we made good progress, opening the taps when we could but more or less steady speed until the first feed station at the Sports Centre at Stoke Heath that looks more like a factory warehouse storage plant. Usual fare was on offer as I tucked in but saw Tom the chaperone and hastily took a couple of photos with him with my Zwifters trophy. We agreed to ride with Richard Burton to really motor.

The next section is flat and you can really get a head of speed as we cross the fields. How we had time to chat I don’t know but Tom and Richard hit an amazing pace and we just ripped the miles apart passing so many other riders. We had been joined by fellow Zwifter Chris Mitchell. He is an amazing rider having suffered a serious motorbike accident 20 years ago and now rides one handed on both motorbike and bicycle with his other hand strapped in a sling. He can shift I can tell you. The pace was so hot that at one point I had to let them go. I’d been on the limit and one small rise just finished me. I maintained a good pace and kept them near. The roads are long and straight so it is easy to see in front and I caught them when they were delayed at a set of roadworks. I had got my breath back and we traversed the roads past the Shropshire Union Canal.

However once through Nantwich, we turned off on to a side road that in parts are long, straight and totally flat. Richard and Tom set an amazing pace and again I was totally on the limit. A short rise and again I was struggling to keep up. The rises are not steep but when I’m pushing so hard any slight differential in gradient accumulates to a point that I can’t carry on. I dropped off but knew there wasn’t much distance left to the second feed at Middlewich Football club.

We made it in an I found fresh pineapple again, grabbed some sandwiches and found a seat at the football pitch and ate with the others. I did go and buy a couple cans for sugar before going to both centre and penalty spots to take the obligatory photo of my trophy. We had a right old laugh before deciding to set off again towards Haydock and the basecamp.

On leaving we were joined by Chris Mitchell again so this would be a quick stage. It is pretty flat but we would encounter a lot of commuter traffic now never more so than leaving the club. There was a massive bumper to bumper queue of traffic that took a while to negotiate before we joined a B road and away from the main road. With the sun beating down but not like last year we made good progress. Amir was all the while gently cajoling us to take a detour through Knutsford. He went there last year but I wasn’t convinced. However as we drew up to a set of lights I acquiesced and surprisingly I enjoyed the run through the High Street, a quaint narrow street with some old buildings and niche shops. It was nice to be away from traffic for a bit.

It wasn’t a long detour and soon we were back out onto the main road again where we just tapped out a nice rhythm. When this happens the miles fly by and we hit the right turn that gradually descends down to a set of traffic lights and under a single track bridge. The lights were green as we descended and we took the right turn at pace continuing on towards the Manchester Ship Cannal. We were picking off some riders now and just cracking on with the ride on past the Black Swan and out on to the well surfaced road but exposed. I remember being battered by the wind here in 2018 but again I was able to push out some watts and keep the pace up.

Surprisingly where previous year’s the road was littered with school traffic and queues, it became a nice traverse of the last 5 to 10 miles. I made through the last estate and the back entrance to Haydock where you cross the car park and on to the finish in front of the grandstand. I quickly washed my bike down and gave the chain an oil before taking it to the bike park.

Our treat today was a Mr Whippy ice cream from Babble the sponsors and eagerly joined the small queue where I chose the Biscoff sauce. It was very good I can tell you. Any happiness at being at the basecamp was tempered on two fronts. I was feeling pretty tired in my leg as and secondly yet again we had the long walk around the course to get to our tents and showers. It was important to keep this walk to a minimum.

I agreed to meet up for dinner and set off eating my ice cream slowly trudging around to the tent allocation. I was ready for rest big time. I got allocated my tent and then gladly accepted the assistance of a bag man to carry my bag to my tent. As I got to it I was near the showers saving yet extra walking what a boon. however Kelly Borgers was my neighbour and she was from Canada riding with her husband. She asked me if I would swap as he was at the far end of the tents of the previous row. I didn’t want to as it was my luck to be allocated here by arrival. I felt guilty but I wanted as less walking as possible. In the end the organisers swapped them to another set to be together.

I quickly took a picture of my Zwifters trophy on the Haydock finish line to complete the task before making my way for a shower. Once done I set my tent for the evening, phoned home and then walked back to the grandstand for some soup and a good pint of Guinness. I then went for another yoga stretching session before I met Chris and Amir and others to enjoy a couple more beers before dinner.
I was able to patch up my left toe that had taken some bruising from the roads that didn’t trouble me again for the rest of the ride.

One rider was wearing a very old NFL jersey that I couldn’t resist snapping and sending to Edward. He laughed his head off when he saw it, the Rams are his team but that jersey is very old is all I will say.

Some don’t like Haydock and the food but I like it. I enjoyed my dinner and chatted to a couple of the chaperones who’d ordered Deliveroo pizzas before I set off back to my tent to sleep soundly.

The easy stuff was done. There was still a long way to go but I had the sense that everything would be fine and grew in confidence as after Shap Fell the back of the ride was broken. I was enjoying myself with Amir without any pressures. Tomorrow should be a good day.

Day 5 Haydock to Carlisle 118 miles

Another good sleep was disturbed early though and I was wide awake so I decided to do some admin; packed as much up, got my kit ready and then prepared my drinks bottles for the day before walking around to my bike and checking my tyre pressures. It broke my rule of not doing excess walking unless I have to but I had less to carry to breakfast. What it did do was coincide with laundry collection opening so another job ticked off, before I returned to my tent.

With all prepared I set off for breakfast which I ate with gusto. I like the food here as it makes a change from the normal fare. I made sure, I was ready, messaged Amir to agree the meet up at the bikes and walked back to my tent for the last time. All I had to do was pick up my helmet, bar mileage sticker and pop my bag on the lorry and walk back to wait for Amir.

To be honest I wasn’t looking forward to the first part of the ride. It is tricky through the streets of the built up area and start of the commuter traffic. Already tired through the journey so far, an early start and then in major urban roads you have to be on your guard.

I met up with Amir who was doing his usual faffing and then Chris arrived too to join us. I wanted to get off as it is a long day on the bike. You knew that as a third feed stop is put in at Shap after the only major climb of the day and the first serious one since Bath.

After we set off we shook our maracas causing more merriment and took on the task in hand. It was very much chatting and banter to pass the time as we weaved our way through the streets. I was glad it wasn’t drizzling as in previous years.
As we swooped down one descent I was amazed at one non RAB rider descending at a rate of knots, no lights and no helmet on a fat bike, his thicker wheels whining as he sped down the hill.
The roads were pretty familiar now to me from previous years and I was prepared for the small climb through a housing estate that takes you to a crossroads over a major road. Always a bottle neck and drivers get upset at 1,000 or so riders weaving their way or moving up the outside to get to the front of the queue.

Safely negotiated we carried on smoothly and found former RABer Phil Robinson waiting at the side of the road to cheer us on. We stopped and chatted to him in Eccleston that is the home of the Bradley Wiggins 2012 Gold Post box, so Amir, Chris and I popped over the road to visit it. I had passed it 3 times and never knew it was so close. We were joined by Rachel Coe also on her 4th RAB and we stopped for a morning coffee and cake, well a general good laugh and chat really.

Whilst drinking we noticed a group of club riders waiting for a friend on RAB some 10 of them. They cheered seeing their mate and then they joined the ride as we set off again. It was nice to have a tow but they then became a bit of a pain all they way to the first feed station. They were going all the way to Shap so I made a note to get away from them at Garstang, the first feed station.

I started chatting to a couple of riders from Gillingham CC in Dorset about the route near Preston one had been to the University here. The roads around Preston are busy and also Preston has a nasty rail crossing also. A long straight full of intermittent traffic lights were a pain as in a largish group, some would get through green lights whilst others would have to stop. I was near the front and got cut off from Amir. I decided to carry on until he was able to catch up I just wanted to get out of the area.

I carried on but could hear him and his hooter behind as we climbed away and on to the fast flat section out of Preston. You just keep going through the roundabouts before the roads become quieter and you can relax a little more. I was grateful of sitting in wheels near the front along hedge-lined roads with familiar warning calls of cars or potholes. Soon we crossed over the Lancaster canal and onto the old A6 and a short burst to the first feed station.
Amir followed in just after me and the place was heaving with riders but no coffee van unfortunately so it was good that we stopped earlier. I grabbed some food and then looked for the others to stand and generally chat about the day so far where we were joined by Andy Cairns also. As we chatted away but the feed station seemed to empty quickly. We had started quite late and had an impromptu stop too. The bonus was that it was easier to find your bike from the racks.

We set off again this time with Andy, Steve Queen and his friend to ride one of the loveliest sections across and around the Trough of Bowland and the Lune Valley. Turning off the A6 we twist and turn, ride up and over little hummocks, through small villages and hamlets crossing the M6 all the while seeing the start of the Lake District in front of you. The road has a small incline before turning hardish right at Bay Horse to take on the road to Quernmore.

After a short climb the road crosses the valley with Jubilee Tower on your right and the M6 on your left. However as we crested the hill Andy caught a mechanical and we waited as he phoned it in. As it was he would have to wait quite a while for help so the rest of us agreed to carry on besides the traversing road is quick and little effort is needed.

Liz Foggin another previous RABer had set up a Zwifters friendly feed stop with Coke and Haribo available. We stopped here and here at Quernmore is my reminiscing photo as the junction is where myself and 3 other Zwifters, Simon Boswell, Martin Edgeley and Will Harris went rogue last year and took on the 100 Greatest Climb Jubilee Tower that bisects the road we ride; a nice climb to do if you can.

After a brief stop we set off along the brilliantly fast road past the church and on towards the River Lune. We were all travelling well but yet again stopped at the bridges that is a great photo opportunity. Seemed every man and his dog was here today.

There is a short climb off the bridges before turning right and a further climb that is a real stinger and the first bad climb since Fownhope on day 3. We got up it turned left and right again to climb to the road to Over Keller. as we climbed I became conscious of the time. I did a rough calculation of distance and average speed and realised we could be pushing the time limits for lunch. I felt we should get a move on following our general soft riding had been taking up time. We joined Alison Kirrage who was riding with chaperone Julian Hawkins.

I warned Amir and wound the pace up a bit but he was content to potter along chatting away. Perhaps he was on a recovery day or pacing for Shap Fell to come. Once through the Kellets where we stopped for drinks last year it was so hot, you pop out to a section on the old A6 again that can be tough. The wind often is a struggle here with cars passing quickly. However the landscape had changed to those familiar Lakeland hills , a sign things were about to get interesting.

I powered on to Milnthorpe and the feed station where I parked my bike and immediately crossed the road to buy a couple of cans of Coke from the burger van. The fare though was too tempting and I ordered a nice cheeseburger if only for something different to eat. I saw Amir come in and crossed to catch up with him and burger was good along with a couple of yoghurts. Normally good I was getting bored with the usual lunch food. The variety wasn’t there this year which was a shame. One thing missing this year was big Al Moore and his halfway photo selfies. Always a pick me up.

We set off uphill from Milnthorpe before turning left on back roads towards Kendal. Last year all Amir wanted was Kendal mint cake, nothing was going to stop him this year . The route is around six miles to Kendal along small country lanes passing grazing cattle and small hamlets before it breaks out into the town that is a busy one as a gateway to the Lakes. We stopped for Amir and as I waited , Martyn Sheasby and Jayne Murphy sailed through so I gave them some banter.

As we set off my head cold was making me feel rough but I wasn’t going to let it stop me. The town is always busy but it wasn’t as hot this year and we made good progress to the start of Shap Fell. I remember the climb with dread back in 2018 on my first RAB but now it is manageable and well within my remit despite its length. The gradient is never too steep but the last mile is a grind. You have to just get your head down hum a tune and pedal.

Having agreed to regroup at the top for the descent I set off engaging a nice gear and pedalled, just holding my own pace. I have come to enjoy the climb. There are respite bits for you to regroup and go again. All the while the scenery is a tonic to the previous days. Plenty of Herdwick sheep grazing in the fields, the familiar Lakeland mountain shapes help take your mind off the task in hand. Fortunately for me, the RAB official photographer came past as I was on a downhill before I took on the long slog.

The long downhill gives you a run at it but any benefit is soon wiped out on an initial steepish gradient before it eases to a grind. Other cyclists like specks in the distance crawling up the slope, others going faster, others slower it is around 20 minutes of pedalling before you crest the top.

I found Chris at the top and waited for Amir to arrive. There weren’t any real cheerleaders this year again that was a shame. However as Amir came in he brought Andy Cairns with him and we teamed up for the descent.

Fast and open I never feel you get a good long ride for your hard work to get up it. I detected a little bit of a headwind so preventing a clear run down but you can rest up for the next part of the ride. It’s a bit of a slog to the village of Shap where there is a splash and dash feed stop to get you to the end.As I cycled up the slight incline in front was a chap with a horse and cart. I did seem to go faster than him as I overtook them before swinging right and to the stop.

I took in a banana and plenty of sugar before waiting for Amir. We were off to a new basecamp this year at Carlisle racecourse. We would have one less awkward climb in previous years but it would be tiring to say the least.

Setting off again from Shap it is generally windy and yet it was pleasant. It is a long slog on the old A6 and I always forget the traffic lights that control a single carriageway bridge that then continues to a short steep climb to a big roundabout and into Penrith. We always seem to encounter traffic here as we climb to the roundabout but we just powered up it. I took the cycle path to avoid traffic before turning left and the fast straight road into Penrith.

The town centre can be a bit crazy as we jostle for the correct lane in the traffic before we take a long drag climb out of the town and onwards to basecamp.

We turned off the A6 on to a roundabout that I remember from our first RAB in 2018 but this time it would be an extra 10 miles and what a 10 miles it would be. The road was dead straight, featureless with a few undulations. I was tired and quite a few cyclists came past me. We encountered Jayne and Martyn and hooked on to them to pull them in but my tempo seemed to be too quick and I dropped them and Amir unintentionally. I couldn’t measure the distance to go and ploughed on until a turning left for 200m and then turned right to find the basecamp at Carlisle racecourse.

I seemed to be late in today as my tent allocated was quite some way down the line. I was tired and in need of rest. I quickly showered and got ready for dinner before seeing Chris Mitchell who needed a Di2 charger for his bike. I said I had mine and lent it to him.

I got a good pint of Guinness and went to dinner and ate well but needed to stretch my muscles so went to the yoga session. I caused some merriment as I placed my next pint to the side perhaps not the best thing to bring but heyho. I enjoyed the session and these became my go to for the rest of the ride.

I went to bed soundly having got my kit ready for next day. I was looking forward to it as we had a new route this year to take on the Devil’s Beeftub, a new climb. Well it had to be better than the horrible road to Crawford of previous years, we would see.

Day 6 Carlisle to Edinburgh 107 miles

I woke up but felt decidedly disorganised. I can’t think why and on reflection it’s the worst I’ve been on my RAB journey. I got my stuff all ready for the day always getting my sleeping bag, small pillow and sleeping mat in the bag as soon as possible. I then get to breakfast and think I’m sorted until my hoodie, flip flops and sometimes laundry need to go in still, a pure nightmare.

Anyway off the breakfast I went and for the life of me I got fed up with the smell of the cooking oil or fat used for the cooked food. I came up with a new idea. Apart from the usual cereal ( and my camping luxury this year my ground coffee I’d brought) I toasted some bread and put two fried eggs on it with some brown sauce. It made a nice change and I devoured it. This became my go to breakfast. I saw Amir and sat chatting and generally having a laugh. I saw Chris and said mate give me my charger at Edinburgh as he’d had an issue.

After breakfast I packed the rest of my bag up and made the long trek with the bag to the drop off. It was some trek here at Carlisle and weariness was taking its toll since the bag seems to get heavier by the day. As I walked back to my tent I realised I’d packed my gloves in error. I trudged back and luckily it wasn’t too hard to find and I retrieved them. You see totally disorganised this year.

Anyway I got back to my tent zipped it up and set off to get my bike and meet up with Amir. I waited for him before setting off. I just felt this was going to be a good day. Probably the best weather starting in Carlisle I’d had and it wasn’t too hard to get into a rhythm.
The opening couple of miles were a blast as we descended into the city itself. A housing estate drifts into an industrial estate area where we rise up to a set off lights that are never green. The setting off is uphill and over the river Caldew. I struggle here to clip in always but the turn right takes you on a trip through the centre of Carlisle and horseshoeing round to the Castle out through another out of town shopping area before we turn right on to the road that runs parallel to the M6.

Amir was still going strong with his hooter as we pedalled along with the noise from passing lorries and cars a continual buzz. It isn’t long before the hedges on the left open out to reveal the wetlands of the river Esk. Crossing this signifies the end of England and the Scottish border. The border comes at you really quickly just when you have built up speed on a slight downhill.

There was a big crowd of cyclists at the border crossing sign trying to get the obligatory photo. Whilst it is a busy road and we were all lined up at the side of the road, it is a significant moment of the trip. It was therefore somewhat annoying that a marshal was stood there shouting every 10secs “Get your photo and move on.” We both said it spoilt the trip. I now have a hurried photograph when on previous years with many more cyclists we could take our time. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

Setting off the route passes through Gretna and then onto the long B7076 that runs along beside and under the A47(M). It is a long section that in previous years has been absolutely soul destroying but this year we would be missing out the really horrible section. The first part to Lockerbie is quite nice on a reasonable surface and you can motor along. I was happy on the front comforted by hearing my partner in crime honking is horn whereas I was shaking the maracas at all we passed.

I could have gone faster but was happy to keep going as we were. The wind was up and noticeably so compared to previous days and it was a portent of things to come. I stopped to take a picture of the view back behind us that was stunning before pedalling off to catch up. Chris was with us helping tap out a good pace. On this road the only worry was the school bus and avoiding it since there were plenty of schoolchildren out as we rode through the brilliantly named Ecclefechan. The primary school children smiled at the hooter and maracas I can tell you.

On the way my reminiscing photo was from 2018 and the pit stop on day one. It was here I was sat with Richard’s brother Robin. As I asked Amir to take the photo he had no idea what I was doing.

As I stood eating I saw Rob Leighton my camp neighbour from 2021. Last year we were allocated the same tent number everyday to assist with COVID. He looked disheartened and on questioning what was wrong, he said he had nothing left and was giving up the ride. I tried to encourage him to take the broom to camp and think about it or try this leg and if still out of sorts turn around and come back to Lockerbie. I felt he was not receptive to encouragement as though the die was cast and couldn’t help thinking he hadn’t been riding with the right group on this ride and was saddened for him.

I waited with Amir for Richard and we were joined by Nathan the Gangsta another chaperone, RAB Zwifter and all round good guy. It’s an immediate right as we left the stop and we joined a meandering road up and down towards Moffat. It’s a single track one but the surface left a lot to be desired in places owing to potholes but we did hit one resurfaced section. Why couldn’t they do the rest? Being with Richard and Nathan we set a good pace all the while having a laugh and a joke. What was good also was the sun was shining brightly.

On we went through the town of Moffat passing the rugby club and on to the main road out of town that rose gently. This was the start of the Beeftub and was long but one of the best climbs I have ever ridden. It rose up at a continual gradient without taxing you. Twisting, turning, onwards upwards hugging the contours of the valley. Trees open road sections, steep slopes to your right, heathers whispy tall grass, sunny, cool breeze, chatty riders, lay-bys with breathtaking views back from whence we had come, an artist painting the view below and yet the never ending constant view of where we were going. I was content before the road swung left to a twisty road to the top where the main glacial steep slopes of the Beeftub were on our right. Nick Tuppen of Threshold was there chatting to riders as we all appreciated the view and achievement of the climb, a welcome addition to the route.

Nathan had his go faster stripes on as we climbed up and he dropped us whilst we joined another chaperone for the descent that seemed like a two on two battle, two turquoise chaperones against two blue Zwifters descending the Beeftub. It was exhilarating as we shared the load but Richard was driving us pretty hard. What was disconcerting and strange was the wind that hadn’t been prevalent suddenly was blowing fully into your face that made this harder. I don’t like to not do my bit but each turn on the front was draining me and soon I couldn’t keep the wheel. Amir passed me and rode on and the elastic broke and I was left to fend for myself. On my own now it was a struggle into the wind and more and more of my energy sapped away from me. It never felt we were on a downward gradient as we rode on down the valley following the river Tweed.

I just gritted my teeth, hummed a tune and rolled along for mile after mile until there was a sign indicting a left turn for us at Broughton. What a godsend that was the wind had been tough and it was a blessing to go in a different direction, however if we’d stayed on this road we would be in Edinburgh in an hour and a half or so.
The left turn was taking us to Biggar and the second feed stop and as I turned Richard and Amir were waiting for me. I stopped for some Haribo sweets for energy and a drink before we set off on a long twisty lane taking us through fields. I was tired and momentarily lost concentration and my wheels seem to clip Amir’s who was in front of me. This thrust me over to my right where Richard was who then used all his strength to keep me upright as I tried to stop myself from falling. I ended up on the other side of the road shaken not knowing what had really happened almost in tears being thankful that I hadn’t fallen. Both Amir and Richard said don’t worry keep going but all I could think was fatigue had set in after the wind effort. I was a wreck inside thinking what might have been. If I thought this wind was bad more was to come.

The road undulated through the Lowland pastures on to Biggar where we stopped for the feed station. I went to the first aid tent for some more muscle tape before sitting down to eat my lunch. I just wanted to rest a bit to regain some strength for the last leg to Edinburgh.

Once ready to go, we gathered again but Richard was with the group of chaperones and I said catch us up. Off we went and I always find it a struggle to get the legs moving again after a stop and the first couple of miles were agony especially with a short climb out of Biggar. I stopped at the top to put my rain jacket on and said to Amir I’d catch up as the weather had turned a little cold. I couldn’t believe the effort to catch Amir as though I caught on the short hills he descended the other side like a stone and must have taken around 5 miles of solid riding to catch. Unfortunately for me it was as we crested a top of a hill and you’ve guessed he was off again. It was the last I saw of him for the rest of my day’s ride. I couldn’t catch him again and was riding solo again. The road wound its way across the fields by which time we had turned into the wind again.

The route now took on the familiar route to basecamp and Hopetoun House. There was still some 20 or so miles to go on roads that go up and down continuously, nothing major but just saps your energy. I just plodded on passing all land marks into West Lothian and then a lovely descent past the splash and grab stop from 2018 as he road narrows further down towards West Calder. We were on our way towards Livingston and the short track to the Sky TV industrial estate. It really means your ride is done. You need to have your wits about you as the traffic is a pain but it’s not too far to basecamp from here.

I rode along the long straight incline towards Uphill where we bear left and pass through a housing estate and on down to the infamous set of lights. Generally a long queue of traffic and a red light. You need to be in the right gear as the left turn at the lights means a long drag climb that is a main road too. You can almost hear the drivers’ frustrations as cyclists climb the hill. It’s not far maybe a mile but with tiredness I was slow.

However the view at the top is generally pretty good and is the first view of the three Forth bridges in the distance. As it was warmer I took my jacket off revealing my Zwifters kit and then rode on to the T junction to turn right at Threemiletown. I was relieved only a couple of miles to go but I was ready for basecamp. I turned left off the main road to begin the fast tree lined route to end the day. Gathering all the strength I could I pedalled as hard as I could up over a bridge and then opened the taps down the descent to the S bend at the bottom that signalled basecamp. As I got to the bends the event cameraman was stationed unbeknown to me and caught me in full flow. I had some speed I can tell you and I arrived in basecamp. What a day that was.

As I parked my bike tiredness enveloped me. Still, I was just thinking about the Beeftub what a beautiful climb it was. I laboured to my tent and got everything I needed for the night ready, kit ready for day 7 and went for a shower. As I collected my towel my helper friend was there asking if I liked his towel design., I did and hoping I’d impress his friends asked me to score it out of 10. It was an octopus and said “go on a 10” in haste before changing it to a 5. I said “come on an octopus has 8 legs in my world” and his mates started laughing.

I had a good dinner before setting off for my tent getting my 3 year gold jersey and kit ready and settling in for the night. What a tiring wind it was and with the Beeftub still foremost in my mind I was asleep quickly.

Day 7 Edinburgh to Strathdon 120 miles

Oh boy oh boy oh boy when anyone looks back on RAB 2022 they will wonder how something so great can go so wrong in such a short space of time. What a day more of which later.

My favourite day on RAB had arrived I love the Glenshee and remember my first time in 2018 and how I was blown away by it. Breathtaking, beautiful and mesmerising it is my favourite climb, it is hard with a long preamble; a fantastic approach that draws you to an absolute stinker to the top.

I awoke with an eager anticipation and dressed into my kit to collect my laundry before going to breakfast. My now go to fried eggs on toast devoured with a nicely brewed fresh coffee. I was ready.

I met Amir and we joked about him leaving me yesterday and as we walked to our bikes saw Martyn Sheasby, he wasn’t happy. He was going around like a man possessed as things weren’t right with his bike. I caught Jayne his partner and just checked he was ok.

Anyway Amir and I set off and I was sluggish as we rode along and hit the little short sharp climb away from camp. I wasn’t warmed up and it stung a bit but this was nothing.

As we turned left on to the road that leads to the 3 bridges over the Forth, I was blown away, I could not believe the sunrise. Clear blue skies and a bright orange orb rising. What a sight and we stopped to take some photos as did others before carrying to the bridges themselves. I have been here before and last year masked in cloud but today was perfect and will stay with me for all of my days. The view of the railway bridge was stunning.

We set off again and on to the undulating section to Perth and the first feed stop of the day. This part is a little interesting in that outside the towns and rural areas the views are brilliant but the towns are uninspiring. Punctuated with some sharp inclines but not too taxing there are some nice descents to compensate.

On we ploughed towards Kinross where the scene suddenly opened up as we went passed Loch Leven. As we went down along a straight, I encountered a temporary road section that was more like Paris Roubaix. I did chuckle to myself as usual as I passed the “Crook of Devon” sign. Just another marker point or staging post I tick off on the ride.

The weather was still good as we took the National cycle route away from Kinross. I stopped for a photo as Amir zoomed passed downhill and it took me an eternity to catch since I noticed a discernible headwind. Catch him I did but took me a little while to recover only to be greeted by the short climb away from Glenfarg. Up I went slowly but you are then on the main road to Perth. You have lovely descent that is broken by a right turn to the harbour side on the Tay. So many riders miss this turn as was the case today.

The descent down to the river Tay then follows a long flat road to a right turn over the river. I looked at my watch and realised we had taken quite a long time to get here and felt that the cut off time was in play. This wasn’t good. I said to Amir we needed to get our skates on.
The road passes through a few traffic lights before a left fork and we pass the Palace of Scone. A little drag takes you to a left turn and the run down to the racecourse and the feed station. I powered up the climb putting a little distance between myself and our little group but for a reason.

I rode into the feed station put my bike in the parking bay and quickly went to buy two coffees for Amir and myself. I needed a bit of a caffeine hit. Once I gave Amir his I went over and got some food and met Jayne Murphy who appeared tired and out of sorts. I gave her a hug for encouragement and said “ come on you can do this, just get up the Glenshee and you’ll be fine.” Oh the Glenshee my favourite climb of the trip and it was up next but what a thing to say with hindsight.

We all stood and chatted eating away but I wanted to get going again. I never like to spend too long off the bike on long rides as it takes me a while to get the muscles working again but more importantly I wanted to start before the broom wagon arrived. Always make sure there are more people behind you in the feed station is a very good attitude on this ride.

Anyway after the King of Faff got ready again he and I set off on our way to Blairgowie and the start of the long road to the Glenshee. The road initially passes through a tree lined road and then a short straight road to take you back to the road we were previously on. The main road can be fast flowing but you need your wits about you as it is busy.

The sun was shining and all was good. The road passes Meikleour Beech Hedge, the tallest hedge in the world. At around a mile long it just seems like a forest and I’d never really noticed it until last year. It is then a short stretch to Blairgowrie that signified the long meandering road to the Glenshee.

Both Amir and I were travelling well we took the snow road that initially goes past a small estate it is also the start of the climbing but you have around 20 miles before you start the main Glenshee. However as we broke through a tree line section there was something amiss; the wind had started to blow a headwind, something that suddenly appeared. We just chatted away inanely passing the time but on one occasion I took a glove off to take a photo but decided to stop to put my gloves back on. I told Amir I’d catch him up.

This took a little longer than I thought but I set off in pursuit. The combination of wind, undulating road and working solo took its toll on me but I caught up with him on a punchy climb but he was in a small group. I needed to recover but I couldn’t maintain their pace and he rode off into the sunset in the group as I got dropped. With the wind stiffening this was going to be interesting on my own. Small compensation I was on my favourite bit of the whole ride.

The road has some short sharp inclines with little respite and as the trees giveaway to more open expanse of the Cairngorms. The openness allows you to see other cyclists winding their way up the slopes but also the wind was now more prevalent but nothing I couldn’t handle as it whistled around my ears. The sun was still out hiding intermittently behind fluffy white clouds.

I soon entered the Cairngorms National park breathing in the pine filled air but still the wind blew with increased vigour. It made tough going as I swung right past the Al Moore tuck shop lay-by of previous years and through the yellow snow gates. There in front of me was the glen, one of the most beautiful sights I know.

No major gradient yet as it undulates drawing you ever nearer to the sting in the tail. Motor bikes and cars came past me as I pedalled into a fierce headwind. It was hard going for the two miles or so and as I neared the business end the rain started, this wasn’t scheduled. I stopped to put my jacket on and set off up the initial slope that gets steeper and steeper by the pedal stroke. The wind was wreaking havoc as I past the Devil’s Elbow Viewpoint and the road swings left where the wall hits you. Around 12% it’s not the steepest by any stretch. However with th accumulation of fatigue it hurts; there is no let up for half a mile. Today though was something else. The wind was now a full on gale trying to blow you back down the hill. Many cyclists were off walking at two abreast and I kept shouting to them to go single file. With cars coming the other way and you snaking up the one side to swing out to pass was dangerous.

I just slowly ground out the climb, sitting for two snow poles and out of the saddle for the next two squeezing as much as I could to get to the top. I was struggling with wind as was everyone. No Deloitte cheerleading at the top to help you, so the give in the gradient came with a sweetness in the pedal stroke was a god send as I freewheeled to the ski centre and the second feed station.How the beauty of the glen could change in such a short space of time was incredible and yet the worst was still to come.

Amir saw me come in but I was so angry. I waved him away saying just leave me as it was the second day he’d ridden off. I was prepared to ride in alone today. I gathered some sandwiches and things for lunch where also the treat was a bag of typical sugar sweets like gummy bears. Andy Cook was there encouraging us to set off quickly and many riders were abandoning the day getting on the coach. Not me I was going on.

Setting off alone again I could not believe the wind I was facing. The descent if you can call it that required care but also a full on pedal to go about 10mph. I have ridden in some winds but this has to have been the worst. The steepness finishes with a left turn and a long false flat descent to Braemar of some 7 miles. In this glen I was riding into the teeth of I don’t know what. Trying to stay small and compact into the wind, cold and a constantly dripping nose I was uncomfortable and it was slow progress.

Every pedal stroke though hard was getting me nearer. I don’t remember much but the shelter of Braemar was a godsend. I wanted to stop for any hot drink but couldn’t see a cafe. When I did it was not convenient to turn around.

I carried on along the flat past the castle and into the wooded tree lined section that hugs the river Dee. We were going on an extended loop owing to a road closure this year. It cut out the back ended climbs of previous years but added some 15 extra miles. The wind had ruined me and I found it really hard to keep going.
I intended to go the Balmoral castle just to pay a little respect to the Queen but got the turn all messed up and missed it in my delirious state. A rider who I’d been with came up to me and made me feel jealous as he’d gone there and replenished with a coffee and cake. He then left me as I just plodded along struggling with every pedal stroke onwards on what seemed no end in sight.

I thought I could stop at Ballater for a drink but as with my luck we turned left before the town but there was a RAB van handing out water or something I didn’t need by the side of the road. I decided to carry on as we had at least turned to start the loop home.

The wind was still strong and though the road was an incline slightly I pedalled as best I could. Not long we turned left into a wooded section and though we had turned back on ourselves there was a discerning lack of a tailwind. As i pedalled along a group of riders including Chris Mitchell came a long and I decided to hang on to their train for as long as I could. I was a blissful mile or so before there was a slight incline and I lost contact with them as I had nothing left to keep up at their pace.

After a while the road descended to a junction and you could see a more open expanse of countryside but here in front was a long drag of a climb that gave me a sense of foreboding. As i got to it I just looked at the road ahead, took a deep breath put my head down and counted the pedal strokes to 100 and started again. How i managed then I don’t know, how many 100’s I counted to I cant tell you but some how i got to the top and prayed for a little descent but there wasn’t. It was an undulating road and all I wanted to see were the tents and marquees of the camp. Round a corner nothing, through a couple of remote houses either side of the road and still nothing. I was almost crying in pain and suffering just wanting this day to end.

Then like a comforting arm around you I saw a couple of multi-coloured flags in the distance and instantly thought camp. I cruised then the last mile or so and turned into camp, stopped, un-clipped and slumped forward on the bike through sheer exhaustion.

After a while to recover slightly I put my bike in the racking and walked to get my tent number. It was now a problem as I was aching with no energy as I got to my bag distribution and thankfully one of the crew said he’d carry my bag to my tent for me. I was grateful for that as I was broken.

I decided to get a shower and everything ready for the next day as soon as possible. Have dinner quickly and get to bed early for as much rest as possible. This I did not before drinking a couple of Guinness to aid recovery. Come on you have to right?

I got back to my tent without being sociable phoned Diane to tell her all about the day and settled in only to be disturbed by the returning entertainment of the bagpipes this year. Typical and so I had to endure all of that before I was enveloped in tiredness and sleep.

What a day. One I will never forget. Biblical does not do it justice. I endured significant crosswinds on day 9 in both 2018 and 2019 but this was something else. My hardest day on a bike even if only for 40 miles.

Day 8 Strathdon to Bonar Bridge 109 miles

Well if yesterday was bad then today had a rude awakening. Something any Rabber from 2018 onwards will tell you. Hardest climb of the trip and it comes early, you are tired from 7 days riding leave alone a day in hell and it strikes fear into most average riders, the Lecht. It is a stunning climb but a true monster.

I awoke and got ready early as in spite of riding with Amir for most of the ride I was a little miffed as he’d left me for 2 days on the last legs of the day. I decided to ride solo today as getting out early gave me the best chance of ensuring I missed the broom wagon as it would another long day. Besides my head cold was worse now.

It was dark as I got to the breakfast tent had my usual Weetabix and now fried eggs on toast together my fresh coffee. Yes I’m quite snob now only ground stuff will do. I felt ok as I walked back to finish my early faffing and taking my bag to the lorry. I put my rain jacket on, gave my tyres a pump of air and got ready for the off.

A small briefing from Andy Cook as usual, set my small group of 10 or so riders off. Immediately my lungs felt the cold of the morning air and my nose was streaming as we cycled up the valley to ward Corgaff Castle and the Lecht. The morning air is silent only punctuated by rider chatter and the whoosh of wheels as we headed towards the impending doom.

After 5 miles or so you reach Corgaff Castle sitting proudly on your left before the road turns right to see the approach to the Lecht. “Right let’s see how far I can get” I said to myself. I wasn’t feeling great with my cold and my legs were hurting as I hit the first 20% section. In the lowest gear out of the saddle early I pulled as hard as I could and I just got slower and slower and then my lungs were bursting. I could hardly breathe.

I gave in to weakness and had to stop as I got the the top of the first ramp. I coughed and then started to walk along with many others. So it would be 2-2 in respect of this climb. I have got off twice and ridden up it fully twice. I should like to think there was no shame in that but my inner self was frustrated. I like to complete things.

So on I walked up the second and third ramps before the climb breaks out of the treeline and the last staircase section is laid out in front of you. I walked with another guy just chatting with many others riding past and as I saw the last section got back on and pedalled away slowly to the top. As I slowly got up the easier slopes I realised I was missing my wingman for laughs but it was my decision.

The weather was a bit drizzly and murky but I stopped at the top for my obligatory photo at the ski centre before hopping back on to take on the descent that is fast and in the wet causes me to take great care. Many passed me as I took my time. It’s a nice descent where you can see everything in front of you bar one steep drop before you roll out along the valley floor towards Tomintoul.

Recovering nicely I rode along breathing in the fresh cold air keeping to my own rhythm. The road climbs slightly as we ride back towards civilisation from the wilds of the Cairngorms. Bar some little climbs the hard stuff was over and you can really enjoy the rest of the ride to John o Groats.

Once through the Whisky capital, Tomintoul always like a ghost town as we travel through, you travel onwards to the Bridge of Brown. There was a long drag climb and when over the top there is a fast technical descent with short hairpin bends down to the Bridge. i nearly over cooked it on one corner but crossing the bridge it goes up again with an out of the saddle effort that I did quite easily.

As you still climb gradually after the Bridge the expanse of moorland is breathtaking but the ferocious wind of yesterday had abated And it was pleasant before the road swings right revealing more climbing to a crest. I dragged it out before your reward. I stopped for a photo at the top and riders past me but that was ok because the descent is laid out in front of you. Fast but shallow you can pick out riders in front so plot your route and assess for any cars. It is superb for a couple of miles. It does also signify the end of the beautiful Cairngorms National Park; a significant moment on the trip.. My wheels were flying as I let it run feathering the brakes where necessary.

It all comes to an end too quickly and the left turn to Grantown on Spey at the Highland Heritage and Culture Centre being the old railway station. It is the first main road for some while but means the first feed station at the golf course.

I was getting a little tired of the fare on offer this year. There was little variety unlike previous years. I took what I wanted and ate as much as I could before setting off. I was solo but happy.

As you leave Grantown it is a gentle climb away past the local Manor House and through a pine forest before the road breaks out across desolate moorland with tall hills to your left. It can be really windy here but today it was still as I rode on to the old AA box at Dava. Here we turn off the main road to pick up the Old Military Road. It’s a quiet and traffic free road in the main.

Another left turn and you enter the hedge lined single track road. It provides shelter from the wind and I always relax here. The next feature of the ride comes after an open crossroads where riding downhill slightly you travel straight on a false flat to Dulsie Bridge. A picnic spot it is a little haven nestling off the beaten track. Your problem is you pick up speed on a twisting road before the bridge that straddles the river Findhorn. Often there is shingle in the middle to avoid but my problem was slightly more annoying.

I crossed over the bridge and as I started to power on to take on the short 15% climb on the other side a car was coming down. I had to stop and found I couldn’t clip back in to start off and had to walk up the 25 yards or so. I wasn’t happy to say the least but as I got going again I was caught by fellow RABer Andy Cairns again. I hadn’t seen him since day 5 but we rode together along the wooded section chatting about our experience so far. He was having fun.

Whilst content to ride solo, when riding with a friend time flies and Andy was grateful of my knowledge of the road. There are a couple of sharp turns skirting around the woods before we start descending towards Culloden. There are some 90 degree turns where I’d seen Shire horses that weren’t there today sadly, before we turn left and hit a punchy little climb that I hate. It’s long enough to hurt you and saps your energy or what energy you have left. Still I climbed up it in Andy’s wake before taking the ridge road where the Culloden viaduct starts coming into view. It is a feature of the ride with its many spans as the railway crosses from one side of the valley.

We turn right to descend to the valley floor with a sharp turn at the bottom. as I got to the turn there was a mass of gravel on the bend. I shouted the warning, avoided the main of it and pedalled on to the viaduct snapping the odd photo. I turned and saw Andy wasn’t there so just soft pedalled to the other side of the valley to climb out the other side.

It’s not a nice climb but I took it slowly thinking Andy would soon appear. As I crested the top towards Culloden itself he never showed. I decided to carry on as the second feed station is at Inverness and only about a 20minute ride from here. As I look back I should have stopped and waited or gone back but that’s easy to say with hindsight.

We joined the main road into Inverness passing the Culloden battlefield, before you descend all the way into Inverness the capital of the Highlands. It is a significant point, a milestone on the ride. You realise how close you are to the finish. However being the “capital” you have to have your wits about you as there is plenty of traffic, roundabouts to cross with a few traffic lights. I did this before turning right and up to the playing fields and the feed stop.

I got my sandwiches and food determined not to waste too much time here as I wanted to get going again. As I sat there Andy came in and I called him over and he said he’d had a tyre blow. He then was getting some things sorted with the mechanics.

I set off again in a group of other riders where we now passed through the city centre. As we weaved our way through the traffic we split up but I didn’t mind. The road takes us through an industrial part before rising up on to the Kessock bridge that crosses the Beualy Firth and the new section of the ride cutting out 10 miles by crossing the Black Isle. I would rather do the extra 10 miles as the traverse is quite lumpy with extra climbing that you don’t really need.

Last year over the bridge and onwards it was blowing a gale and hard work but today it was just tough as I was getting tired. Riding in the main solo is hard work; in a group you share the load. As I took on one climb near Munlochy I caught two riders from Gillingham cycling club. I’d seen them before. They were a group of 10 or so but these 2 a girl and an older chap were always doing their own thing.
I decided to ride with them for the last 20 miles or so. They were good but not the fastest in their group. We chatted and worked together as we were approaching some busier roads.

There is a glorious view as you thunder downhill to the exposed Cromarty Bridge to join the A9 the main road to John o Groats. You have to be careful at the T junction at the bottom. Turning right onto the A9 it was single file into a wind but not like previous years. It is a long slog for a mile as you cross the Cromarty Firth. Head down we crossed with plenty of traffic passing before getting to the roundabout on the other side and making a further right turn along the coast road. Again you have to have your wits about you as we rode along the main road.

As a 3 we turned off and the small climb to Evanton. It drags rather than hurts you but it was good to be on safer roads. It is the start of the long climb interspersed with the odd descent to Struie hill, where the road is exposed at the start of the Highlands proper. I did stop for my reminiscing photo as out of one village is one lay-by where my friend Richard Burton stopped and dragged me in back in 2021 when I was so unwell.

However working as a 3 we rode quickly and efficiently and the miles just flew by. With previous knowledge I warned of the punchy climb after crossing the river Averon. You just have to select the right gear and spin. It was here in 2019 I saw some red toadstools but didn’t see them this year.

I rode up it tapping out a rhythm and as it crests the road hugs one side of a forest on your right. The view on your left is one of sweeping highlands. I found that I got dropped slightly here but put an effort in to catch that I did before a downhill to a bridge to cross the Strathrory river before climbing away from the valley and on towards the viewing point.

It becomes a bit of a grind and I was tired now as it is a long day after all you have done to get to this point. It really is the last climb as adrenaline gets you over day 9. You traverse the top all the while seeing the top but it never seems to get any closer.

Once you do the view point of the Dornoch Firth is stunning in the fading light of the day. I could stay here for sometime but you want to finish as your day isn’t done. It’s a fast descent to an S bend at the bottom that can catch you out as it did one year with oil and sand before it is a long flat road by the Firth on to Ardgay and Bonar Bridge. Despite late afternoon nothing seems to be open and no life as you sweep across the bridge.

I was shattered to this point just needing to stop but you are so close to the basecamp you just keep going. There is a slight sting in the tail as once at Bonar Bridge it’s a left turn and you have the longest mile and a hair or so to cycle out of town to the camp. By now my legs were hurting and any semblance of rhythm was non existent. The combination of the run to Strathdon and today was now telling on me.
I just shut my eyes on the long straight road kept my head down and wished for the turning into the field.

Eventually the field came and I turned left and was grateful to dismount. I put my bike in the rack having checked my air pressure for the next day and then my whole torso just ached.
I got my tent number found my bag carried it slowly to my tent unpacked what was needed and just lay there for 10mins or so recovering.

I phoned Diane to check in before showering and starting the recovery process. I ate dinner with a good free pint from Babble the event sponsor and went to bed early as it was an early start for the final day in the morning.

Day 9 Bonar Bridge to John o Groats 104 miles

I slept well but woke up at 4.30am before my alarm and got up and packed my bag to get a nice early start. It is pitch black at this time up here but there really is an end of term feel around camp taking me back to my schooldays. Excitement, a patting on the back and celebratory mood as you know the end is nigh. You can’t be complacent as you still need to concentrate on the matter in hand.

I ate my usual breakfast with the last brew of coffee and then made a couple of jam sandwiches. I was grateful the wind was blowing as previous years which meant the opening stage would be a lot quicker.

With my bottles filled, lights attached to my bike, it was dark still, I got my bike to see Amir who said “Hold on we’ll ride together.” I waited for him as he pumped his tyres up before walking to the start. It would be good to ride together after the last couple of days.

Joining the start we had the usual start briefing from Andy Cook and set off. With all red lights flashing before us we seemed to group up to around a dozen riders and found myself on the front with Toby Ashton again.

In the dark it isn’t as nice to ride as you can’t see everything in the road but I was comfortable as Toby and I chatted all things RAB but mainly the ride into Strathdon. However the ride is quite daunting at this stage. You can’t see much around you; you are relying on the riders around you to keep you straight.
you turn off the main road onto the single track road to Lairg. It is a pine forest road with the river Shin on your right that you can hear but not see. The road is not the best and is on a gentle incline.

As a group we weren’t as tight owing to needing to pass some riders and a single track road. I looked for Amir but he wasn’t there and unbeknown to me, he had caught a flat tyre and had stopped. After around 10 miles or so the road takes a sharp incline that takes you to Loch Shin and Lairg, the first village on the last stage. It coincides with the dawn of the last morning and you skirt the Loch where it has Jock Broon’s wee house floating on it.

As riders we become strewn out in lines of two or three now rather than a unit and I was torn between pushing on or staying within myself knowing there are the north coast rollers to come that require a bit of strength to get up and down. I chose the latter and settled in for the long straightish road towards the Crask Inn the next mile stone.

The surrounding land is typical highland gorse barren land with pockets of trees. The road in the main straight with the odd passing point for cars and boy there were a few coming the other way. The occupants having to wait for all the cyclists at that moment to come passed it their ones and twos before being able to move on. All the while you are climbing gently but going north.

I was making good progress just sipping my drink and pedalling thinking about what was coming. One of my favourite views of the whole ride but I still had work to do to get there. I could really appreciate my surroundings this year with little wind to contend with and it is a stunning area, bleak, wild and with the odd peak giving it a beautiful vista.

A slight turn to north east starts the run to the Crask Inn perhaps the remotest inn in the UK. There is a slight descent to it before a long drag after it. I’m not sure how many people can stay here but it is small.
The marker passed, it was a drag to perhaps the highest point of the ride today and it is here I love to stop and admire the view. The start of the Strathnaver Valley is laid out in front of you. We still had a bit of a ride to get to it but I wonder what the view would be like on a sunny day. It is magical in the morning twilight with whispy clouds caressing the tops of the mountains in ever changing light. I can never cease being in awe of this point, Strath Vagastie. Sadly a new wind farm (thanks Greta) is being built to spoil the view to the left.

A quick sip of my drink and I was off on the gentle downhill where your speed picks up to one you can enjoy. With the road snaking in front of you, you can see anything coming the other way and so let your bike just run, feather the brakes if needs be, relax and enjoy before powering away along the valley floor hugging the river Vagastie to the first pit stop of the day at the Altanharra Inn. The only problem is Altanharra is otherwise known as midge city.

As I pulled in to the stop I felt the fist midge on my face. Unlike 2021 they weren’t everywhere but they were up and flying. Great. I did have my net this year, put it over my helmet and made my way to the food. I took all things in a packet and made my way inside thinking that what the place to be. Hell they were inside as well. I ate what I wanted and decided to get going again as soon as. Fortunately I had my legs covered and so it was my hands only exposed so I didn’t find them too much of a problem this year.

I didn’t wait too long and off I set to take on the 10 or so miles to Bettyhill, but what a little section this is. Loch Naver sits to your right and the single track road twists and turns with every nook and cranny of the coast line. Slight undulations are taken with ease. My first two years there was a massive tailwind to help you but not this year. It is truly one of the most special places to ride. Despite being tired you can really build up speed here and time passes quickly as do the miles. I was now on my own again but happy keeping riders in view, listening to the running water of the river Naver keeping you company.

A big hill starts to rise up on your left funnelling you to a road junction that signifies Bettyhill and the north coast. It is at this junction you see a sign saying 50 miles to John o Groats. I always see this a s the countdown and start thinking of all the events that had happened on the ride, appreciating the effort to get here. I passed the lay-by my reminiscing photo for day 9 that used to frequented by Al Moore the chief paramedic and his tuck shop sadly not on the ride this year.

Bettyhill gives you the first glance of the sea with white rollers crashing in but is also the start of around 8 big hills to take on over the north coast. The climb out of Bettyhill is hard when you have been used to the flat since Altanharra but you dig in and drag it out. Some opportunistic riders stop here for a coffee in the hotel. Not a bad idea I thought but thought about somewhere else to stop as I felt like a coffee.

This whole section doesn’t have any flat section. You descend only to be greeted with another climb on the other side. I found it laborious but kept singing a tune to myself to grind it out but on the third climb I found what I was looking for. A small lay-by with a coffee van, so I pulled in and had a large latte and cinnamon swirl. Boy was it good. As I sat there I saw Andy Cairns powering up the hill, shouted to him but he didn’t hear me and then he carried on up. A police car came in to the stop and ordered some coffees so it must be a good stop then.

Suitably refreshed I got back on my bike and rode up the incline to the top and descended to take on the next hill. I kept calculating when I might arrive in John o Groats so I could ring at the last feed stop to tell Diane when to expect me.

The last feed at Reay golf course presents itself after the last thunderous descent at Melvich and I have to say you are ready for it. It does also mean the last section that truly is quick along roads you can shift on. They are open and straight and any incline gradual.

I set off on the main road, before turning off onto a B road. I was now ready to try and increase my speed to get in as soon as possible. The sight of Dunnet Head comes into view and this really signifies the beginning of the end. One last hurdle to negotiate the climb out of Thurso before a long straight road where any obstacle is clear in front of you. I just wanted to finish, not that I was in a bad way just tired and believing I was always nearer than I was.

Then as you curve around one copse on your right you can see the gradual descending fields that lead to your final stop. Even now you are so close but then there is a continual turn right and left instead of a direct road to it. I started to appreciate what I had achieved again; the furthest extreme points of the UK for a fourth time.

The last bit was a struggle through tiredness but I turned left into the field and over the finish line to collect my medal. Diane was waiting for me as she wanted to leave as soon as possible to get to Sheffield to see the Queen’s funeral due the next day. I had a quick shower and grabbed my free drink and pasta lunch before setting off for home. I was well and truly knackered but elated to finish.

It was not long before I fell asleep in the car for a long sleep not before contemplating if I could the ride again in 2 years time. What a ride🚴💨

RAB for the 4th time

1 Reply

So with Elizabeth missing and many of my Zwifters from 2021 not riding I drove down for lunch at Sennen Cove to meet Amir the Zwifters founder and who I’d ridden with before. The Zwifters though had a different feel to it this year in training. A lack of organised social rides, a deferral of the coordinator without any warning so cancelling the team in the event register and the lack of information of the new leader meant many new Zwifters were not in the same tent section. As I look back this meant a lack of cohesion this year.

A good dinner was followed by the greet meeting from Nick the CEO of Threshold who I’d met earlier. I’d thanked him for his understanding with Elizabeth and in turn he asked me who was the Zwifters coordinator this year. I said speak to Amir but the captain on the event pages was for the purposes of this blog I shall call Florence and pointed her out.

The event had decided to carry on in the aftermath of the Queen’s passing since we would be honouring her by cycling the length of her realm. We were sent to our tents in a good mood ready for the task in hand. I was not nervous having done the ride 3 times before but still was apprehensive as how I would fare. I had brought some electrical tape to have a makeshift black armband as I rode.

Day One: Land’s End to Okehampton 105 miles

I awoke at 4.30am having set my alarm for 5am, typical. I went to the toilets and on the way noticed a brilliant photo of the Start banner and went back to take a photo. Little did I realise how close I had been to an unfortunate event that came apparent later that evening.

Eventually as we descended down to Penzance my derailleur came stuck in the lower ring, not too bad on the lumpy day ahead but it would be a pain, so it must be my battery I thought.

Matt helped me ring for a mechanic who would be half an hour. This was the third thing to happen making me think I shouldn’t be riding, Elizabeth, The Queen now a mechanical.

On one tricky descent a marshal was warning us of mud in the road and at the bottom by a walled bridge I saw a medics car and our captain Florence in Zwifters kit walking away, she had obviously crashed.

I saw Florence and asked how she was and though she told me she was ok, she seemed distant and standoffish. Strange I thought both she and her husband Dougall being so aloof with me but heyho I thought.

At the briefing two pieces of information were given to us firstly the rider was ok who had crashed but his ride was over. Secondly the confusion at the start over the bikes was because for the first time in its history, 3 bikes had been stolen from camp that night. I made a note to ensure my pride and joy would be in as safe a place as it could be each night.

I went to my tent having sorted my bike out and felt a couple of twinges in my Achilles and my left calf. This did not seem good.

Day 2 Okehampton to Bath 120 miles

We stayed for quite awhile until Amir felt he could start again and the pit stop had very few riders still. However I knew we weren’t at the back of the field.

Eventually we took the long road passed the Bath Rugby training ground, over the A4 junction to Batheaston and Bannerdown Hill. It’s not long but horrible at the end of a long day. Crossing the mini roundabout at the bottom you take a left turn and ascent starts. I just engaged the granny gear and spun. I was okay but felt exhausted and soon the steep gradient was over as we got to the mini roundabout about a third of the way up. We just chatted away to pass the time or to block out the grind when over to the right I saw a cyclist waiting. I said to Amir it’s Paul and we started chanting his name as we edged closer and closer to him.

Day 3 Bath to Ludlow 99 miles

The first of two transition days where you could relax and enjoy but unlike previous years there would be no Deloitte cheeseboard to look forward to sadly.

Day 4 Ludlow to Haydock Park 106 miles

At one point I came across Toby Ashton a fellow Zwifter and we chatted away and he didn’t know it was RAB Zwifter kit day. I explained how what I had proposed on Facebook to the group had changed at the AGM owing to our maracas. We chatted away and I explained what we had intended re kit and it was a shame that some on Day 1 didn’t join in by wearing the kit then. “Ah” he said “I rode with them and they said they weren’t going to be dictated to by Martin!” I was absolutely taken aback by that. I had posted a suggestion that all who replied were in favour of or said good idea. These 3 people had not replied at all negatively, however though annoyed with them to say the least things were starting to slot into place in a number of ways as to their attitude towards the group as a whole and now it would seem, me. Yet what had I done, my only crime was to provide loyalty and friendship to someone they disliked. I later found the main person behind the vitriol now unfriended me on Facebook, Strava and Zwift. This spread to a previous Zwifter not riding and who I thought was a friend. I was glad to be rid of 2 of them now and the non riding Zwifter.

Anyway back to positives, we came across Gareth Jones who was in his Zwifter kit and so I shaked my maracas at him and then gave them to him to have fun with. We turned on to a main road passed the Seven stars seen of a road traffic accident in 2018 and then left onto the climb of the day. It is narrow and single tracked with the odd bit of shingle but the main bit you can see in front of you. It perhaps leads you into a false sense of security as you ride along pretty quickly before it ramps and ramps again before hitting 15%. I took it in my usual way and waited for Amir at the top before a sharp tree lined descent on the other side that at least was in the dry and not slippy this year.

Some don’t like Haydock and the food but I like it. I enjoyed my dinner and chatted to a couple of the chaperones who’d ordered Deliveroo pizzas before I set off back to my tent to sleep soundly.

Day 5 Haydock to Carlisle 118 miles

The town centre can be a bit crazy as we jostle for the correct lane in the traffic before we take a long drag climb out of the town and onwards to basecamp.

Day 6 Carlisle to Edinburgh 107 miles

on the way my reminiscing photo was from 2018 and the pit stop on day one. It was here I was sat with Richard’s brother Robin. As I asked Amir to take the photo he had no idea what I was doing.

Having stopped it was then another pedal power ride on to the truck stop at Lockerbie. It isn’t the best stop on the ride but it is convenient. As I racked my bike Richard arrived and I said we should ride the next stage together as we hadn’t since day 4. We agreed to meet up in a bit. It was the same old fare and I was getting bored without the variety. All I was thinking of though was the Devil’s Beeftub. It was the next major climb and one of the “Another 💯 Greatest Climbs”. I had read about this climb it’s over 6 miles long but a steady gradient. I had thought about trying to do this one on previous RABs but it wasn’t possible. I was pleased that the route had changed.

Having stopped it was then another pedal power ride on to the truck stop at Lockerbie. It isn’t the best stop on the ride but it is convenient. As I racked my bike Richard arrived and I said we should ride the next stage together as we hadn’t since day 4. We agreed to meet up in a bit. It was the same old fare and I was getting bored without the variety. All I was thinking of though was the Devil’s Beeftub. It was the next major climb and one of the “Another 💯 Greatest Climbs”. I had read about this climb it’s over 6 miles long but a steady gradient. I had thought about trying to do this one on previous RABs but it wasn’t possible. I was pleased that the route had changed.

Day 7 Edinburgh to Strathdon 120 miles

Oh boy oh boy oh boy when anyone looks back on RAB 2022 they will wonder how something so great can go so wrong in such a short space of time. What a day more of which later.

I awoke with an eager anticipation and dressed into my kit to collect my laundry before going to breakfast. My now go to fried eggs on toast devoured with a nicely brewed fresh coffee. I was ready.

Anyway Amir and I set off and I was sluggish as we rode along and hit the little short sharp climb away from camp. I wasn’t warmed up and it stung a bit but this was nothing.

Day 8 Strathdon to Bonar Bridge 109 miles

After 5 miles or so you reach Corgaff Castle sitting proudly on your left and it was here I cycled up to Florence and Dougal. I had been saying “Good morning” to all I passed and who had passed me but I decided not to after the way Dougal had treated me and I rode past them, turned right to see the approach to the Lecht. “Right let’s see how far I can get” I said to myself. I wasn’t feeling great with my cold and my legs were hurting as I hit the first 20% section. In the lowest gear out of the saddle early I pulled as hard as I could and I just got slower and slower and then my lungs were bursting. I could hardly breathe.

I was getting a little tired of the fare on offer this year. There was little variety unlike previous years. I took what I wanted and ate as much as I could before setting off. I was solo but happy.

Day 9 Bonar Bridge to John o Groats 104 miles

It was not long before I fell asleep in the car for a long sleep not before contemplating if I could the ride again in 2 years time. What a ride🚴💨

A Gold ride

1 Reply

How do you express your feelings when words aren’t enough or would appear that there aren’t any that convey your thoughts. Anyone who completes one of the UK’s greatest cycling challenges, cycling Land’s End to John o Groats will tell you, exhilarating, tiring, jubilation, relief, happy, self fulfilment amongst many and rightly so. However completing the Deloitte Ride Across Britain is special and now I have done this for a third time I have felt the same feeling each time as I leave John o Groats. It is an emptiness, no not a bereavement though it seems it could be, but a palpable loss that you cannot describe. I can never explain it but it lingers with me for days.

I was interviewed this year on the ride as to why I keep coming back and was quoted as saying,

“Some people will never do it again but for me and many others it’s in your blood and you just keep coming back for more.”

The main reason is what is called “The Bubble”. It is a culture created uniquely each year by the riders on the journey to help everyone complete the ride and brings the best of humanity in the ensuing 9 days but once you cross the finish line it disappears. It is an all encompassing all enveloping unseen world that travels the country, supportive, humorous, compassionate, appreciative and chatty from everyone involved from riders to mechanics, support crew to organisers.

Once you leave this unique world perhaps never to see some of your fellow cyclists again who share the same experience to return to normality it is a loss you cannot describe but gives you so many wonderful memories.
The only words I find that come anywhere near are the closing lines from part of a poem from AE Houseman’s A Shropshire Lad:

“That is the land of lost content,

I see it shining plain

The happy highways where I went

And cannot come again.”

To understand my feelings please read on :

Day 0 Friday 3rd September

This was to be my third RAB, the gold jersey ride. A special gift from Threshold the organisers to all riders who have completed the journey with them for 3 years. Naturally the previous months had hampered my training for the event. No riding to work as my base miles and few sportives operating to ride owing to Covid restrictions. However I took up indoor cycling through Zwift and ”met” a number of other fellow RAB riders to ride in a virtual world with.

We formed a big group, organised our own kit and generally formed a great team to identify with on our journey. So it was with a real sense of nervousness and fear that I travelled to Land’s End on the Friday to take on the task. Had I trained enough? Would I complete it? Would I get injured? All negative thoughts but when you ride it for the first time you are excited as my third I knew what it takes, knew the pitfalls and a sense of fear takes over.

I had lunch at Sennen Cove where others appeared to be also and not least Steven Gregory a regular event chaperone before getting to basecamp. There were new protocols in place for Covid with your NHS passport needed and I said goodbye to Diane and Bertie and entered my new world for the next 9 days.

I registered, Red (second time) 1593 got my drinks bottles, timing chip and tent number (40) it would be my number for the journey. Being Red we were in the far field meaning a long walk for dinner and everything. I found my tent and unpacked what I needed for my night’s sleep and kit for day 1 before making my way over for some tea.
It was here Nick Swan approached me a South West 2019 Rabber to apologise for upsetting me that with hindsight was a silly spat that I regret but we ”smoked the peace pipe” so to speak before I saw Amir Farboud, RAB Zwifters team leader and with whom I ridden part of the Tour of Wessex with and on Zwift. He is the life and soul of our group and would be throughout the ride.

We met other RAB Zwifters, Martin Edgeley, Paul Rattew and Will Harris chatted and walked down to Land’s End itself had a drink with Amir’s family Brewdog and G&T aplenty to hand and yet all the while I was dreading the next 9 days. So many doubts, so many negative thoughts that were disconcerting.

As we walked back into camp we met other RAB Zwifters arriving who had been delayed owing the rail disruptions and one coach breaking down. We picked up our Team RAB21 Zwifters jerseys and made our way down to the sign again for our team photo at 6pm. Some of us also had black and yellow bobble hats to identify us of an evening for a friendly face if you had had a bad day. Then it was back to camp and dinner of chicken and mushroom pie and for the welcome and next day’s ride briefing.

I set off for my tent but all the while hoping for a good night’s sleep to prepare me for the hardest day. I got into my sleeping bag, turned out my light only to have the constant drone of the generator disturbing any chance of dropping off early.

Day 1 Land’s End to Okehampton 105 miles 8,236ft of climbing.

I awoke with a 4.45am alarm after a rubbish night’s sleep. I don’t remember how many times I woke up but it was a lot. I got ready into my RAB Zwifters kit and got my bag packed ready to leave. I thought I was organised but clearly I wasn’t it was a struggle to get everything back in. Still I set off for the walk to breakfast and meet the others.

Surprisingly I ate a lot where previously I found it hard, maybe this was a good sign. However there weren’t any bananas left to take as riding food. This annoyed me big time. I went and brushed my teeth and walked back to my tent chatting to Nick again to collect my bag and prepare for the ride. As I got my stuff, I was talking to my neighbour about the banana situation when in true RAB Bubble spirit another rider said “here have this one I have two”. Boom problem solved.

I trudged over to the bag drop off and went to collect my bike to meet the others, I was running late and somewhat in a panic. I jumped the queue to gather for the off with my fellow Zwifters and hopefully to get a wall of Zwifters in our kit in a photo on the statrt line. As Julian Mack, one of the Threshold organisers said ”Thats a nice kit”, Andy Cook set us off. Clipping in my front wheel was all wobbly. As I struggled I shouted to Amir to wait as I has to return to see the mechanics.

A tightening of my through spindle set me off again, I still don’t know how it occurred but soon Amir and I were climbing away from Land’s End in a chilly autumnal air and all red lights flickering in front as the train of cyclists started their journey.

We made good progress on through Sennen as the road undulates on its way to Penzance, not worrying about catching the others as everyone stops at Michaels Mount for a photo opportunity. We chatted and laughed at so many things the time passed and any early fears abated. We passed the usual tandem but as we descended to sea level boy the tandem was fast it flew by us as did a rider from Reading CC. This ride is about seeing the landscape and enjoying it not going as quickly as possible but everyone rides their own event.

Traffic wasn’t too bad at Penzance and here we first saw Paul German attempting to ride the event on a BMX. Soon we pulled into the car park for the photo shoot at Marazion. I was able to phone my Mum as it was her birthday, we met some other Zwift Rabbers and also Nathan Robertson who was chaperoning again so we decided to ride together again.

The road is a constant up and down but we maintained a good speed and Amir was keeping us well entertained lining up cheese jokes, Doctor Doctor jokes. it kept us amused. The roads here were quite good and the weather was warming up and soon we were at the first feed station near Truro that has the old Wheal Jane mine wheel on its entry road.

Here we had a lengthy queue for a coffee. Never get behind me in a queue it seems something goes wrong this time the guy in front was sorting out a refund. 😩 I saw my old riding buddy Richard Burton who was also chaperoning this year and who I rode with in 2018 and 2019. I bought all a coffee before setting off again. you dont want to spend too long if you can help it.

Roads now took us to Truro that was busy before we climbed away passed Truro Rugby club and then on to more narrow sketchy roads that take all your attention to avoid gravel pot holes and general muck. However riding with others and Nathan we were able to work well.

We had one scary moment when an impatient driver went to overtake us crossing the double white lines on a blind corner and making the oncoming car to emergency stop. We all couldn’t believe what we had witnessed. Climbing away from the main road we were making our way towards Victoria via Grampound Road. The route tries to keep us off the main roads for safety but cars were aplenty today often having to wait a long time with all of us coming along.

As we got to Roche we turned on to the road towards Victoria and the services. i was gobsmacked that the professional cycling team ”Team Qhubeka” coach passed less than a metre away from me. Of all people not to observe the safety rule I could not believe it. Shaken and annoyed my anger rating (an amusing feature of the ride for the others)had rocketed. Still into the strong headwind orevalent all day Amir, Neil and I became detached from Will and Nathan as we first descended and then climbed towards Lanhydrock.

On a short flat section I noticed a helicopter off to our left in the clouds. I pointed this to Amir as I ate a banana. A short climb would take us to the thunderous but dangerous descent that we were warned about in the briefing and daily email. I was going to be circumspect big time but as we crested the top a police car was stopping us saying road closed. Why? Where would we go?

Lanhydrock cricket pitch beyond the hedge

There had been an accident and riders were riding back up the road. Nathan was down at the scene probably relaying by radio the circumstances but all the while more cyclists were piling up at the junction with nowhere to go. I knew the second feed stop was near about 5 miles away and made a split decision not to wait. Amir, Neil and three other riders came with me. It was a route I didn’t want to ride but needs must. Apparently Richard was first chaperone at the junction and some 300 cyclists were stranded whilst a new route was worked out.

The six of us rode down to the A38/A30 junction and on to the A38 single carriageway road passed Bodmin Parkway and Trago Mills. We rode single file to assist traffic where possible but I wasn’t comfortable. It took all my concentration with big lorries around. We pulled into laybys also but climbing out of the valley and on to Doublebois and up to the feed station everyone agreed we had made the right decision. The feed station was practically deserted and we could relax.

Suitably fed and watered we set off up the long drag climb to Minions. I took my time agreeing to regroup at the sign at the top. I passed King Doniert’s stone around halfway before the road opens out to typical moorland and the heat was baking hot and I was sweating.

I regrouped with Neil and Amir not before Amir recorded his inner Minion “Bananas” at the sign. We were Team Shaps on Team Minions hill, it had to be done. The descent is brilliant as it is quick and tricky with a sharp stop at a junction to turn left and then go on perhaps the hardest 10 miles of the day to Launceston. You are now quite tired from the terrain ridden, it is hot, the road is at times busy and now requires concentration with no respite in its undulations that are long and energy sapping; I needed a sugar drink, anger level near maximum.

How I crawled into Launceston I dont know but on our left was a Greggs and in we piled as had a few other riders. I downed 2 Cokes very quickly and loaded a Fanta into my bidon for the last section. All the other riders agreed that it had been a struggle to get there and everyone was surmising what had happened at the accident, save that we knew the helicopter had airlifted the rider to hospital. Whilst we all hoped he was ok I also wondered if he’d listened to the warnings by Andy Cook the route designer.

We were soon off and I met Ben Osborne another chaperone who was after a drink in Launceston. We chatted as he was waiting for a call about his son who was running in a junior cross country event. As we hit the square he peeled off and we sped on out to Polson Bridge passed the rugby club and into Devon. Not too far now I thought. Neil and Amir stopped but I said catch me up as I climbed up on to higher ground. Again this road as the old A30 is energy sapping but wider and so traffic can pass you with ease. Lifton, Lewtrenchard, Lewdown all passed but slowly. I saw plenty of buzzards flying and goats stood by the roadside as i was dropped by the other two as my energy levels slowly depleted in the heat.

I could see Brentor off to my right with High Willhays and Yes Tor on Dartmoor all in bright sunshine and made me smile for my home county. As I hit Bridestowe Amir and Neil were waiting for me as we agreed to ride in together.

Turning left to Sourton Services Neil’s family were waiting for him and we stopped to chat before riding the reward for your hardwork, the false flat descent towards camp. Both wondered where I got my second wind from but we shifted into camp at Okehampton that was just about empty. A good decision not to wait for the accident that gave us so much time to shower, have some tea regroup and get organised with a few beers.

Neil, some bloke and Amir at the end of day one

Getting into camp early was good allowing you more time to prepare. I made all my phone calls home in case they were worried about the accident. The accident caused an extra 4 mile detour and reverse ride for those who waited and all the riders following behind the feed station would have been manic.
Dinner was nice before the briefing for tomorrow and an early night. I had had a good day if tiring but boy it had been a hot one and more was due tomorrow.

Day 2 Okehampton to Bath 114 miles 7,451 feet of climbing

The bad news was there was no bed at Bath University this year, the university had said we couldn’t use it. The worse news was that the days mileage had not only been extended by 4 miles but we also had the climb of Bannerdown Road to get to basecamp, nice😩. I’d prefer to climb up this when fresher as we would do normally at the start of Day 3. However I like Day 2 as it is not only Devon but the roads are rolling more open, better condition and the Somerset Levels provide some recovery time.

I had a rough night no more than an hour before waking up time after time. I was up before my alarm again packed my bag and went off to breakfast as we had agreed to meet early. As I walked I felt ok but nervous for the day.
The breakfast queue was huge already as I arrived and when I got to the cooked section we were rationed to one rasher of bacon. This was not good. Still I ate well again to get the calories in.

Having dropped my bag off again I met Will and Amir for a 6.40 start. Neil would have to catch up. It was warm but misty again and forecast to be a scorcher again. We descended from the camp into the town centre easily and then turned left for the long road to Bow. Again a crisp autumnal morning was enhanced by Amir cracking jokes two that he was really proud of made up overnight but really, I mean it was 7am but they were funny. He’d also come up with hand gestures for the team, the Hawk, the Edge, the Fonz, the Gangsta and me the Mammoth. These were real team bonding gestures that carried us on. At one point I approached a nicely colour coordinated lady and commended the pink attire. Despite Amir’s sense of humour ( my kind of humour) at being sexist assuming it was a lady, it was Beth Clayton a Veteran world track champion who we chatted to all the way to Crediton, that signified the first climb of the day.

I made it up though not quickly and the road climbs upwards to Cadbury before the brilliant descent to Bickleigh Bridge. Sadly the cartoon statues at Stockleigh Pomeroy had been removed. i met Helen Webster who’d had a serious accident but had recovered to ride. As I spoke to her she spied my Kit Kat duo lurking in my back pocket. I took one piece and gave her the other. At the top Will and I waited for Amir before descending down to Bickleigh and the run to Tiverton.

Bigger groups seemed to form here and we made sure we didn’t make ours too big. All the while the weather was warming up and I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable but better to be warm rather than cold as I found out to my cost in 2019.

The run up the Exe Valley was negotiated at a fair lick and we were soon at Bampton and the first feed station where freshly cut oranges were eaten with abandon, lovely. I saw Nash Matinyarare whom id chatted to to advise on features of each stage who also is a speedy rider. We met up with Martin Edgeley and Neil found us too so we decided to ride as a 5 and then found Nathan the Gangsta again to make 6, this was going to be fun.

Suitably replenished off we went and boy we were quick and the bonus was the Devon roads were now sweeping and wide giving us more room to space ourselves and enjoy the ride. Short climbs were taken at pace and we whizzed past Jo Robertson a South West rider from 2019 who was waiting to see us. she shouted to me blew a kiss as we raced on. i saw her at the last moment as we then took the beautiful twisting road down to Wiveliscombe. I glanced at the rugby pitch I played on once and missed a big pothole and was thankful no damage was done.

We were heading for the first major climb of the ride and the first of Deloitte’s four signature climbs, Cothelstone over the Quantocks. First we had to negotiate a horrible 15% climb that catches you out. The road from Wiveliscombe is flat and you travel quickly and suddenly you turn left up a lane. With your extra effort on the flat the sudden cranking of gears to get the right one and gradient hit you like a sledgehammer well me anyway and it is a real effort to get up but I did where we all regrouped. You can normally see Cothelstone from here but such was the cloud cover it was still out of sight.

We set off as a tractor turned into the lane behind us and onwards towards the pending doom. We crossed over the steam railway at Bishop’s Lydeard and then turned left through the village and onwards to the climb. Cothelstone is not a hard climb by some standards but the middle section is just a straight wall with no respite. I said I’d just ride at my pace and regroup at the top.

Passing the manor entrance, the road ramps up, granny gear engaged to spin it out, before a left turn takes you towards the middle section. Here a glorious view back to where you had come from but not today. A short spin out of the saddle took me to the right bend and the wall. This bit hurts. You have to keep going not looking too far in front. Pick a spot ride to it, then another and on. With every sinew I pushed to the top but it’s not the top. A short less steep grind takes you to a small road junction where you then pick up a false flat climb to the cheering Deloitte Team some 1/4 mile further on at the very top to your relief. I was flabbergasted at the tree felling that had gone on as the area was so open. The cheering team had Jenny Dalton a 3 time RABer in her gold jersey in it before I moved on to regroup at the car park with Nathan, Martin Neil and Will sharing some celebratory chocolates as Amir then coasted in.

The next section after a brief climb is a fantastic descent for 2 or so miles down towards Bridgwater. You can just let your bike fly as the roads aren’t steep but exhilarating down passed Enmore. Bends are taken with pure racing lines although with Nathan in front we had to slow for a horse rider giving her a wide berth. It was a brilliant reward for the climb you had done.

Bridgwater is horrible ble to ride through, lights, lots of traffic and uneven surfaces to hinder you before riding up the A39 and another left turn to you’ve guessed it a short punchy climb. This one hurt big time and one you forget is there before riding down through Woolavington to the Somerset Levels.

The sun had now won the day and I was drinking for England as we made our way to feed stop 2 at East Huntspill. I topped up my water bottles and sat down eating a good lunch with my favourite freshly cut pineapple, absolutely wonderful. i must have had 8 slices. In the heat nothing was better. I decided to eat 2 yoghurts as part of my lunch also. i cannot explain it but i was able to eat well as I did across each day whereas previous RABs I had struggled to force food down.

We had ridden 71 miles and it was 11.45 and the last rider had only done 48 according to Nathan, they would be pushing the feed stop cut off as they’d yet to ride Cothelstone.

We set off again but at a cracking pace again. I thought we were going to stop for a drink in Wedmore or Cheddar but we didn’t. At that pace I was going to suffer up the Gorge. I started the climb and sure enough felt sluggish. It is a beautiful setting and a lovely climb that is hardest at the bottom before a long drag to the very top on the Mendips.

In climbing this I looked up at the cliffs, blasted through the pinch point where it’s at its steepest but was getting so annoyed with other riders who did not observe etiquette with a simple ”on your right” as they passed. This got worse and worse on the ride. I was getting angrier by the minute. It is a simple thing to do, so in the end I started saying, ”passing on my right” sarcastically.

Amir had met a friend and waited for me at the top before we continued rolling across the top of the Mendip. To be honest I was struggling here. i needed more drink or sugar as by now it was boiling hot.
We turned off the main road through a wooded section down to left turn where a brilliant descent was interrupted by Nathan waving us down as they’d stopped at a cafe, the Mendip Pantry in Chewton Mendip along with a number of others including Tony Long who I’d met in 2019. The cans were brilliantly cold and the flapjack as gooey as anything I’ve had; pure sugar and oats lovely.

As we sat there the tandem two came flying passed again before we set off to be greeted with a climb away from the village. The road passes through Odd Down and Paulton up and down and genrally not what I wanted. Will was near as we crested the top of Tanley and the run towards Bath but all I could think of was Bannerdown to come.

Will dropped his chain as I carried on for him to catch me up. If you come to Bath from the north or south you will descend and descend quickly as Tony Long did straight down like an Exocet. It was quick to say the least but lead to the worst bit of the whole trip. Although Bath city centre is beautiful the traffic was awful and you had to have your wits about you. One Porsche driver was an absolute nightmare. Regular starts from traffic lights uphill tested your skills in bumper to bumper traffic.

We were soon passing Bath Rugby training pitch and on to Batheaston where I got baulked by a car and lost Will at the bottom of Bannerdown. I was now tired and ready for the struggle but basecamp was only 2 miles away. Up I went slowly and just pushed as much as I could. Its not too difficult but with a hard day’s riding behind you not nice. I crossed the mini roundabout and on up turning my pedals. In front were some plastic roadworks fencing that I swung out to pass and just wanted this to be over. My hips were in pain as I carried on and soon was blessed by the subtle easing in gradient. i seemed to pull 2 riders along into Wiltshire and basecamp at the top.

I was shattered and couldn’t grab my bag leave alone open it as a crew member carried it to my tent. A short breather I went and showered not before buying can of drink and a pint. I checked my emails and saw a request by Threshold to be towards the front of the briefing to be presented with my gold jersey by Elinor Barker part of the Team GB Olympic cycling team.😀

I met the others had a great dinner of roast turkey regaled stories of our day over many a beer. At the briefing Julian Hawkins introduced Elinor as Tokyo silver medallist but hold on a minute I thought she has won gold surely. A quick google and yes gold in Rio too. It was then I noticed something about her. When my name was called forward we couldnt shake hands re Covid but as I approached she said “Congratulations” and replied ”Happy Birthday for Tuesday”. The beaming smile in response saying “Thank you” was a joy to behold. Always good to do some homework I thought if fortuitously. We then had some photos taken with her but I now had my gold jersey along with 30 others.

I decided to go to bed a bit later to see if i would sleep better and chatted to Richard, Nathan and Paul Tippins all chaperones in the tent where Richard said he’d videoed my jersey collection and id got the biggest cheer.

Eventually I went to my tent to get myself ready for day3. What a ride. What a day.

Day 3 Bath to Ludlow 94 miles 5,318ft of climbing

The shortest day today and one to recover. The extra mileage on day 2 meant less today. However it was scheduled to be even hotter, joy and Id be in my new gold jersey that is predominantly black. The bonus today though was the Deloitte cheesboard at Ludlow racecourse base camp😀👍

I awoke after 5 hours of sleep, yeay bonus, to go to the toilet and saw a misty morning. I walked to my bike on the way and put my bottles on my bike and noticed the dew all over it. Note to self get some serviettes to wipe it down with. It was dark naturally and eerie in the shadows.

I went back to my tent and caught another bit of sleep but I was ready for the day and recovered from the previous day and would use this as an easy one too. I had a good breakfast, oats, Alpen, coffee and cooked also before meeting the others. it seemed everyone wanted to be out early today. As I walked to the bike pen I got many ”well dones” and ”congratulations” as I proudly wore my gold jersey. As I waited for Amir I was approached by the Threshold media team as to why I keep coming back and my quotation appeared with my photo on the Facebook page. During the interview my old mucker Phil Stamp heckled ”Who’s your favourite Teletubbie?” to much merriment. Seems I acquired the tag of ”the face of RAB2021” after this🤦‍♂️

Anyway soon I was off with Will and Neil coasting waiting for Amir to catch up. Again misty and chilly typically autumnal as all our lights were on.

There wasn’t much to see but the sun was trying to break through and unlike last time the traffic was not as bad and so the chat continued to pass the time. It was so good the miles went by and we got to the only main junction that was busy with commuter traffic. I crossed easily but had left the others so cruised along waiting for them to catch up.

Schools were back today and pupils were waiting at bus stops for their rides, so hello or morning was the call of the day. We passed through Iron Acton with its maypole but the sun could not break through to warm the day. We were headed for the old Severn Bridge crossing and we were hoping for a photo in the middle not before seeing Gavin Stafford on his basket bike also resplendent in his gold jersey.

As we got to the Bridge it was clear there wouldn’t be a photo but the event photographer caught Amir, Neil and myself on the lead approach to the bridge. The bridge and river were engulfed in fog and the foghorn was sounding on the far side every 10 seconds or so.

With good progress made we crossed the Severn and into Wales but the sign was no longer in its usual place. However it was a long drag up to Chepstow and a new way to the castle and the feed station where to my surprise sandwiches were available, nice I thought. We didn’t hang around too long as since the coffee van wasn’t present I suggest the local store I visited in 2019 with the SW Rabbers at St Briavels.

We left the feed station over the river Wye and back into England. The road climbs in an arc away from the town before turning left and taking on a long drag climb for 2 or 3 miles to the Forest of Dean. Strangely the fog had lifted and the sun was out. Amir was finding it a struggle after the feed and so I paced him along whilst Neil and Will went on. Well if you want a coffee you’d better stop I thought. Riders were still patting me on the back for my jersey. It was quite a strange feeling but then that is the Bubble for you.

I passed a man with a Deliveroo jersey that I thought was a bit funny and a large estate before reaching the top and down to the village stores at St Briavels. The coffee and cake were brilliant here last time but on entering, everything had changed and if Im honest not for the better. Nowhere to sit, coffee in the main was in pots like pot noodles. I was disappointed.

Still Neil bought some Welsh cakes to go with the coffee and we went to sit down on a bench by the moat of the castle. On the way down to a gate I bumped into Lucy, Andrew Midgeley’s wife; Andrew rode in 2019. We had a brief chat before I joined the others.

We set off again and along the top of the Forest the road rolls along, sweeping descents and short up hill gradients to enjoy. I saw Richard at the side of the road attending to some sheep that had escaped and were resting. I said leave them the farmer will sort. I was enjoying the ride as I knew there is a really good descent to the river Wye. The road is smooth and curves down the hill to the valley bottom through trees before rolling along beside the river.

I was fortunate not to have any traffic to impede my progress and then saw a number of cyclists stopped for the view or for an ice cream. We had had our stop and needed to keep moving. It sweeps along the valley into Herefordshire but the road surface had deteriorated.

We travelled well as a four and entered Ross on Wye where there a lot of cyclists gathered for drinks as it was hot. We carried on down the high street and turned left to climb out of the town. With cars parked on one side and a lot of cyclists it proved a bit of a nightmare for drivers and especially one who revved his engine and pulled out dangerously to move about 2 metres before having to pull in behind another car. Will gave him a few choice words before moving on. It was completely dangerous and uncalled for.

At the top the road becomes narrower to single lanes with shingle and technical descents. Julian Hawkins the chaperone was warning riders but they continued to speed off. He was not impressed.

The road soon takes of the picturesque road along the Perrygate Estate. The river horseshoes here and the road is kind where also there is a small private campsite. What a view they would have in the sun if 900 cyclists weren’t passing through.

We were motoring along as the road then closed into more hedge lined route. It turned out to be pretty busy with cars and plenty had to stop for a long time to let us pass. It was going to be a long day. Punctuated in the route were some real stinger climbs. With a lot of cyclists in a narrow lane didn’t give yo a lot of room for manoeuvring to assist you especially with shingle and small pebbles in the middle of the road.

At one point a woman was seen to give up reverse her car and call out of the window. “I’ve waited for 75 cyclists let me go in front” before driving off. I wanted to retort “well you could wait for 85,” as we stopped only to laugh as she reversed with her handbrake still on🤣. Not long after a dust cart was travelling towards us whose backend swung out as it turned to my right and nearly took me out. I needed to be more careful but tiredness and the heat can do silly things to you.

The up and down of the route was broken by the lovely descent to the village of Fownhope being the second pit stop of the day. As we turned left into the playing fields Elinor Barker who was riding the stage started to leave with Gangsta Nathan who had been assigned her chaperone for the day.

I couldn’t have been happier as again I feasted on the pineapple that was on show and I had a good lunch sat in the shade in the heat of the day. Richard turned up and we agreed to ride the next stage with him. It’s always good to ride with him but he has responsibilities if needed for others on the ride. In setting off we saw a lot of debris in the road that was awkward including a big tree branch. As we swung off the main road we approached a rider in front who was going slowly. Amir is a doctor by trade and told Richard he was dehydrated or struggling. Richard backed off and dutifully brought him the last 30 or so miles home sorting him out with water and everything, so Richard only rode around 4 miles with me.

Meanwhile Neil, Amir, Will and myself rode on along mainly flatter roads. All the while I had been trying to find and meet another Team Shaps rider, Colin Whittaker. He was immense on Zwift and as yet I’d never met him anywhere. I was beginning to think he was the Scarlet Pimpernel. Still as we approached a couple in front it was Colin. He is a unit on the bike but escorting Joanna his business partner on the ride at a nice pace. It was good to finally meet him.

We now had a bigger group and on descending one hill I suddenly remembered it was a sharp left and shouted out to all. Not a nice bend but the road condition was shocking also and the usual cry of “holes” was hollered loudly. We were on the outskirts of Leominster. Colin went on ahead as we were going to stop for an ice cream or something. They were needed in this heat.

As we got to Leominster Colin was encamped at an Aldi store where we all stopped in the carpark. There weren’t cold drinks only packs of ice creams that Colin bought some 30 for 6 or 7 of us. I went over to the Coop opposite and bought seven bottles of ice cold drinks. Whilst we ate the ice creams to recover we offered the remaining ice creams to any passing riders, many of whom were grateful.

We set off again and in the ensuing traffic flow, dropped Will at some lights but he caught up later. The rest of the ride was uneventful as we increased the speed to get to basecamp. On a tricky fast descent in to Ludlow, we saw a rider who’d crashed but we moved on as he was being attended to. I lead out the team to the climb up the high street but as usual just ground it out to the top as the others passed. Passed the Tudor buildings the road flattens out passing the School at chucking out time. From here it is a short hop on to the main A49 and a crossing on to the racecourse and basecamp.

It was now time to regroup, clean the bike and enjoy the Deloitte cheeseboard before dinner. I couldn’t stop taking the fluids on board. It was still hot and all needed replenishing. I also was drinking Guiness that also would help, honest🤪.

Dinner was a little strange in that it was Cumberland sausage normally a staple food at Carlisle but Lulu the caterer had had some supply issues and provided this tonight but I didn’t care it was good. What was disappointing was that the sweets were all the same this year without any hot puddings, but that is just a small thing in these circumstances.

Before the 8pm briefing the RAB Zwifters met for a brief meeting and presentation of Amir’s awards for our winter sessions but also discussion as to how to move things forward for 2022 and the future. It seems Threshold want to have some input to help future riders and training for the event.

I had seen a guy on the ride who I’d joked with Amir looked like Dominic Cummings. Well I dont think my eyes needed testing when I showed him what I had seen in the bike rack. We chuckled but it was close🤣

I had a good rest, wrote my notes of the day having phoned everyone before going to bed. Three days down, I’d had another good but easy day and I was now more confident of the ride and my fitness to complete it.

Day 4 Ludlow to Haydock Park 106 miles 3,185ft of climbing

I slept well again so at last I was used to tent life it would seem and again today would be an easy day in the saddle although a long stretch to the first feed stop at 44 miles. My main concern was the daily wrestle to fit everything back into my bag each day. To save time I don’t put the sleeping bag back in its smaller bag and it was becoming a problem. Still I went over for breakfast, met Richard who was in early and yet again I was able to eat well. Perhaps this is why as I look back I had a great ride this year.

Again I agreed to me Will, Amir and Neil again for our 7am start. Yet again it was a misty start and lights were on as we departed the racecourse. The start takes you off on country lanes again but in the mist you could not see too far but these early miles were dominated by Amir, his jokes again and also his new game ”Guess who?” Come on jokes yep but I didn’t have the strength to do 20 questions. 😩

The sun was trying to break through again and it was chilly enough for a gilet today. Many riders passed us as the chat flowed until Amir needed to stop. I noticed we were near a mansion that I had wanted a picture of before so rode on gently down to it to find a horse in the outside field. It was spooked a couple of times as I waited by the sound of the passing wheels.

Time passed quickly as we negotiated the sketchy lanes and I avoided Amir’s Guess who quiz, I just didn’t have the energy again just concentrating on the road in hand.

Again a constant feature was the lack of rider etiquette and I was getting really wound up by it. It’s not rocket science but road awareness is paramount but not to say anything is poor and the organisers constantly reminded you.

Anyway we soon hit a short incline where we turned right for a short stint on a main road before turning left onto another lane for really the only climb of note for the day, Wenlock Edge. The mist had not cleared yet but progress was good but the field had not spread out and so there was a concertina effect as we seemed to bunch up. The last part is a bit of an effort where a number of riders had stopped either side of the road. I pulled over to regroup and then there were a number of shouts as the quick boys lead by Simon Boswell thundered up and over the climb looking for space to go through.

As I adjusted my jacket and put my phone away I lost the others who descended on down the steep hill through the trees. Fortunately they only rolled out along the floor and I caught them to lead with Will on the front along the road that passed through many a little hamlet of quintessential middle England. I was able to guide as to what was coming has the route hadn’t changed really but the roads were still sketchy. We encountered the odd car and tractor but Amir seemed to drop off. At one left turn we pulled over to remove my gilet and wait but Amir never showed. We waited for a minute or two and was told he was ok by Simon Reade just gassing to others. He really was getting to know everyone or ensuring everyone knew him. I’m not sure which but he was having a blast.

We carried on without him over a stone bridge for the usual photo opportunity and onwards. We had the mechanics van pass us and as we later came round a corner it was reversing back towards us and we had to stop so a a car could pass us. This provided a nice delay and also that we could then follow the van at a comfortable speed knowing that any oncoming traffic would encounter it before us.

We made it to the first feed stop at the Maurice Chandler Sports Centre at Tern Hill. The area looks more like an industrial park but the godsend was the coffee van was here. Yeay at last. Neil queued to buy these and they were worth the wait.

Funnily enough Richard showed up and he decided to join us for the next section. The exit from the feed station takes us to a main road that turned into a nightmare with slow lorries queuing for roadworks. My mind was on how much land was now being or would be built on since I was last here. It is unbelievable.

After some considerable time of slow crawling we turned right and now on the front and regrouped I started to drive on the front but I was on a comfortable pace. I couldn’t stop and was pushing along. With the flat straight roads it is easy just to get in a groove and I just ate the miles up. Soon we were up and over the Shropshire Union canal and encountered the traffic calming measures into Nantwich where we were stopped at the lights in front of the canal bridge. Once going again I passed Al Moore the chief medic at the junction in typical pose.

I waited for the others again before increasing the tempo on the wider roads. This was fun and not many came passed us.

The roads are pretty straight before we pop out onto the main road into Middlewich. Traffic was busier but manageable up under a bridge and on to the large roundabouts where a left turn takes you to the Football Club and pit stop 2.

By now it was scorching and I was drenched. I could have stood under the water sprinkler on the pitch for this stop. Still pineapple was back on the fare as well as the usual sandwiches. I just dived into the clubhouse and bought a load of ice cold drinks. Boy they were both needed and good.

We sat in the grandstand out of the sun to eat lunch and I spoke to Edward who was about to set sail for a month that was a real fillip for me. As we went to set off for the last stage of the day to Haydock Park, we were advised there was a big smash on the M6 so traffic was being diverted on to our roads and also there was a big oil spillage to avoid. Then big man mountain Colin Whitaker arrived.

I put some sun cream on and started off passing a lovely Labradoodle, a fine specimen it was. We got out of Middlewich but Neil was missing. I continued my rhythm along a long straight but busier road. There were plenty of potholes to avoid and soon we encountered the makesghift road closure or lane closure for the oil spillage and it was a long one around 100m long. We negotiated it well and on towards Knutsford where Amir was stopping to see some relatives.

The shadows of the trees and hedges provided welcome respite from the heat as we carried on. On towards the Manchester Ship Canal. Will and I carried on after Amir dropped off and I felt strong and continued at my pace. Will later said he was struggling to keep up in someway after I rode a roundabout with so much speed. I was just on it big time.

Though more urban the buildings en route were pleasant to look at. This was a nice feature of the ride when you are expecting possible drab industrial urban buildings but then we are passing near Footballers Millionaire row, Alderley Edge.

At one point the road descends to a low lying bridge where there was some excess water that we were warned by other cyclists about. How this had collected there when there’s not been any rain beat me.

Time now was school leaving time and the roads were full of car traffic and queued up and I seem to leave Will as I cycled up the outside to pass them. I kept going picking up some older guys and said hop on. They did and enjoyed a free ride on me for which they were grateful. I was happy as camp was near, one last push I said to myself but boy we hit a road that was being resurfaced and it was truly horrible. More Paris-Roubaix cobbles. I eased off so as not to get a puncture or ruin anything on my bike.

Once through here it was a short mile or so to the racecourse and basecamp. I kept my pace up through the finish line and parked my bike up. Will came in not long after saying how I’d blown him away, it was not intentional but leading a train I wasn’t aware of what was going on behind me. Where I’d got my strength from I don’t know but I was ready for a beer.

I then became dismayed as our normal route to our tents across the racecourse was shut off this year. We now had an extra long walk not what you need at the end of a long ride. We agreed to get showered and ready first before returning for dinner and beer. You don’t want to keep walking this distance unless you had to. One bonus was Richard was meeting Hollie and offered to take some excess kit for me to John o Groats for me. Bonus, life saver the morning wrestle would be much easier😀👍.

We all met up and enjoyed a good evening before the long trudge to bed. Another good day if hot and more was scheduled for tomorrow too.

Day 5 Haydock to Carlisle 116miles 5,558feet of climbing

Well the scheduled mileage and climbing was going out of the window today. I have wanted to ride the Jubilee Tower climb each year previously but hadn’t been able to. Our ride bisects the climb and both Will, Martin Edge and Simon Boswell said they’d climb it too. The weather would be good and so this was on finally. Jubilee Tower is one of the 💯 Greatest climbs and it would be rude not to climb it.

Another good night’s sleep but I was awake early and wide awake too so I went off and sorted my bike with drink, pump up my tyres and oil. Coming back there was an amazing sun rise forming.

I met Will for breakfast very early as our laundry needed collecting today. With the increased walking it was better to get fed early come back get your laundry and pack all away before getting to our meet place and time.

We were going to be over halfway and take on the first major climb since Bath, Shap Fell, the second of Deloitte’s four hills. It was RAB Zwifters kit day and my Team’s day, Team Shaps.

Dressed ready I found myself being interviewed again for Threshold as to whether we are looking forward to Shap Fell. I said yes. My team were going to boss it. Its our hill.

The weather was good for the first time out of Haydock but more importantly the traffic was calmer too. Neil, Will Martin and I set off Amir was late and made good progress as we travelled through more urban built up areas. I was totally in the wrong gear on one short climb and got dropped by the others but caught up at a road intersection. Again there few calls of ”On your right” it was getting silly on this type of road.

I had warned of the train tracks at Preston, scene of a serious accident previously but with drier roads this year they were no problem this year. As I look back the little climbs were quite easy for me this year. This I think had a real enjoyable impact on my ride this year, maybe Zwifting had helped in this respect.

On one section we hit the Covid 19 special bike lane all cordoned off well for about 50m well they shouldn’t have bothered really. Once Preston is cleared you start on the better open and quieter roads that the route prefers.

Again the first feed station came quickly and we all said Jubilee Tower as on but Neil didn’t want to come with us. All refreshed we turned off the main road and followed the twisting road and crossed over the M6 a few times before reaching the Bay Horse, making a slight right hander uphill and effectively the long traverse of the valley to the Vale of Lune. Briefly I could look to my right and see the jubilee tower on top of the hill I wanted to climb. We were probably mad doing more climbing on a big climbing day too.

We were joined by a chaperone who could ride and knew the area. My problem was though we were pushing along, any slight gradient and I lost touch with the others. Bearing in mind the beginnings of the Lake District were here and the Trough of Bowland some inclines hurt. I told the chaperone what we were going to do and he said he didn’t hear me.

At last the crossroads came and Neil went on and we told the medic stationed there what were going to do. Will, Martin and I turned left downhill for a short while with one steep bit and briefly road up the other side so as to ensure we had the start of the segment. It also gave us a run at the early bit of climb.

We set off at our own speeds and set in. The road for the first 1/2mile is straight and climbs with one discernible slope that once over is a steady gradient. As we rode up there was a big shout as thundering down was another RAb Zwifter. Will and I initially thought it was Amir but as he got nearer it was Simon Boswell who is a strong rider.
On I ploughed up passed the junction where the real climbing starts. There is a small wood as you turn left and pedal on to a right turn and the hardest section. It is about 15% that took abit out of me. I was wondering how far I’d get before Simon passed me. I was zig zagging a little and heard a car behind and as I pulled to the left saw it was a police car🤦‍♂️🤣.

I got through the section before tou can rest awhile before the opened out over a cattlegrid and the last drag to the tower at the top. Simon breezed passed me about 2/3rds of the way up and I finished last of the four. However the best was that you can climb the small tower built for Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897. The panoramic view from the top was magnificent out to Morecombe Bay and behind to the Trough of Bowland. It was a moment only shared by these 4 RAB Zwifters and in spite of the exta climb I was so pleased to have done it.

The descent was lovely albeit I was circumspect as a lorry prevented us travelling quickly that was a good thing. We soon were back at the crossroads where we turned right to be back on course and there was Amir with 2 other RAB Zwifters Bex Pawley and EL Curtis. We formed a 7 person train of RAB Zwifters to carry on through Quernmore and on down to the River Lune where we crossed over the bridges and the picnic area where coffee was for sale. I could have had one but we carried on ip the short climb to take another right turn and up a real little stinker that split us up briefly. We passed a lady who had stopped with her partner as she had a broken spoke. Unlucky I thought.

Another climb took us on to the Kellet villages, Middle Kellet and Over Kellet. I was uncomfortably hot and Will had run out of water, so we stopped in Over Kellet and called into the stores. I was after a Coke, Will a bottle of water. However we had to keep buying more stuff as the minimum card payment was £5. Erm I thought this was abandoned in pandemic times but heyho!
We now sped off to eat up the miles on the A6 to get to Milnthorpe and the halfway point of the ride. When we got there Al Moore updated his selfie on my phone before I went to the burger van there and bought two cans of Fanta. One for now and one for Shap Fell.

Whilst at lunch we were joined by Beth again who said she would ride with us again. It will be good to ride as a bigger group. As soon as we set off again all Amir wanted to do was to buy some Kendal Mint Cake. Good luck I didn’t want to stop. The route is around six miles to Kendal along small country lanes passing grazing cattle and small hamlets before it breaks out into the town that is a busy one as a gateway to the Lakes.

We passed through the town quickly and agreed to regroup at the top for a photo of the crew. It is a long old slog up the climb at around 7 miles long. Although it was hot I felt ok as the gradient slowly increased and you can see the road and different coloured cyclists moving along the road as it snaked its way upwards.

All the while the views either side were stunning in the bright sunshine. Each time Ive ridden we have been lucky with the weather. Around halfway I opened my can of Fanta and drank it but where could I put the empty can? I continued at a good rhythm and the climb seemed to pass well. There was a black dustbin at the side of the road but I couldn’t be bothered to stop, but further up was a bus stop and generally there is a bin there and there was. I stopped as this is a downhill that leads to the final climb of Shap. However right at the bottom was a set of temporary traffic lights so hampering any run at the last mile.

Beth came steaming passed and then went through the lights and up the coned off side of the road. Good shout I thought so let my wheels free and descended to climb up the other side in the coned section. As I was climbing I heard a mighty shout behind me and there was Amir speeding up the the left side.

The road was now just a grind that I managed guided by the flashing of the event photographer. We had agreed for our photo and so with one push to look good I passed the event guys and on to crest the top. I saw Diane parked on the other side before being greeted by the Deloitte Team at the top of climb two.
Whilst we all gathered at the sign for our photo Alec Alty came and said hello, before I popped over to see Diane and Bertie where I drank another can of Coke she had. It was so hot.

Once I said goodbye to Diane and the maestro we headed off for the descent that was exhilarating if brief down to the village of Shap and the M6 in the distance. I took it smoothly and at speed with the S bend kink. If Im honest I don’t think you get full value for your climb here. However it was a nice respite just to ride with little effort.

As we got to Shap there was a quick splash and dash stop to refill your water bottles with the local school children. Amir started filming them as we left for the last leg. Last time it was into the teeth of a headwind all the way. Today, open and exposed it was in baking heat.
This section is a long one on the old A6 that passes through Penrith. Although aching I still felt good and was able to maintain a reasonable pace, though we had a small diversion to avoid some roadworks that was implemented at short notice that took us down a country lane that was a bit sketchy but needs must.

Martin seemed to be pretty strong driving us along the road passed Unthank and I remembered a row of trees and so took another photo to compare the difference in two years.

We eventually came to the left turn that signifies the end is near just a couple of miles to go but what a couple. Will decided to get out of the saddle on the short drag up the hill. I said don’t bother save yourself, for as we crested and swung round to the left I could see the little sting in the tail on our right, especially as a car was coming the other way in the middle distance. I said we swing downhill before a real ramp that is horrible? Short it packs a punch and not what you want at the end of a long day.

I gathered speed descending wary of the car coming before using as much power as I could under a bridge and to get up the hill on the other side. Every sinew strained as I went down the gears gasping to sea sign Pub Open pop in. Boy it was inviting and I fancied it as had a number of other cyclists. Will didn’t want to and so we carried on down the false flat under the M6 before turning right and around 400m to the finish.

Having put my bike away ready for tomorrow, it was straight to the bar for yet another Coke but also a pint. Then the fun started for payment. Hardly any wifi it was cash, Paypal or bank transfer. I said cash please but I’d need my bag that I would get and bring the money over. When I brought the money back to pay there was all sorts of shenanigans and without sufficient cash in the till they let me have the drinks for free. Very nice.

The beers flowed all night as we all reflected on the day that had been augmented by Jubilee Tower. Another good day but I just didn’t want another day6 as per 2019 since the weather was going to break.

Day 6 Carlisle to Edinburgh 105 miles 4,144feet of climbing

Oh please nothing like 2019 were my immediate thoughts as I was awake early.It is probably the worst stage well the first 50 miles anyway, no not because it’s Scotland but 25 miles of absolute bone shaking road and bland boring scenery doesn’t lend itself to a nice stage.

Those thoughts were banished when I saw the sunrise coming, stunning. However red sky in the morning sailors’ warning came to mind also.

With less in the bag all was sorted early for the trip for breakfast and yet again all was demolished with aplomb. I had met Neil and Will also ready for our 7am start where we were also joined by Brian Wilson another Zwifter. As we were waiting for Martin, Phill Stamp came along wearing his gold jersey. Sorry I said this stage doesn’t warrant mine. I’m saving it. Tonight was the last laundry and it could be washed but Day7 maybe but definitely Day 9 it would be worn by me.

It was an easy start to Carlisle but as we went along it was decidedly colder. It is about a 3 mile journey to the outskirts of Carlisle and as we hit the city I decided to stop and put my rain jacket on as it was drizzling. I struggled to get my zip done up having lost feeling or grip in my left thumb and forefinger. It was embarrassing to ask for help but I needed it.
We had to wait at a set of lights where Eamonn Farrelly joined us, on an uphill start to cross the river and onto the high street, where we swing round to see the castle and on out of town.

In the drizzly weather I just wanted to crack on out of the city through the retail park and on to quieter roads. We turned onto a road that runs parallel to the M6 that is shielded by a fence. It is a quick road and I tapped out the rhythm on the front with Will that was comfortable for all.

Gretna Green comes at you surprisingly quickly and perhaps when you are least expecting it. We all stopped at the Scotland sign for an obligatory photo. You just have to. It was also an opportunity to remove my jacket also. I had layered up today and was determined not to suffer as in 2019.

From the sign it is a slight climb up through the town before you turn right followed by a left and then a long 20 mile section to the feed stop. With no discernible wind or rain it was better than it has been in the past. Beth had joined us again and I was on the front all the way happy to ride at a good pace. I prefer it on the front knowing/seeing everything in front of me.
The chat was anything and the villages of Kirtlebridge and the brilliantly named Ecclefechan were eaten up as we made our way to Lockerbie and the truck stop. Again school children were out in force and so I was wary of the school bus turning up. One beauty is that the road in the main has long straights so you can just pedal.

As the traffic now contained a number of heavy goods vehicles we knew the truck stop was near. It isn’t the nicest of stops but it does a job. A crew member was there blowing his whistle as we swung in to the bike storage to feed up. Beth said well done to me. I wasn’t sure what for but apparently I’d lead everyone at a comfortable 20+mph. Nice I thought. No drink needed today it wasn’t hot but the place absolutely wreaked and it was unpleasant. One to grab your food eat quickly and move on we felt.

Richard then arrived as per usual it seemed and he wanted to join us again. He needed his bike looking at as he’d had some issues and I waited for him whilst the others set off without me. Once ready Richard and I set off at a pace to catch the others. I find it hard to get going again after a stop but we or shall we say I motored along in Richard’s slipstream. Eventually we caught the others after Martin and Will had stopped briefly.
The road morphs into one where the surface is one constant ridged surface that sends shudders through your handlebars. There are trees and a hedge to your left. Hedge on your right with the A74(M) on your right. Above this are some confer/pine forest trees and this is it for around 15 miles. If you are lucky a train may punctuate the boredom. It just a question of ride it, head down and push through it.

On a short rise Richard caught a flat tyre another problem for him. I should have stopped but was so focussed on getting through this section that ends at Crawford services. I was in hell here in 2019 but we just ate up the miles. We hit some nice tarmac that was a bonus and then hit some wind but it was manageable. I am not sure where it came from but as we turned off at Thankerton, I found a second wind to pick up speed and flew along over the Clyde to swing left and the grind up beside the valley to Quothquan and the second feed station.

Martin The Edge caught me up and said “boy were you racing” but I paid for it up the climb as usual as they all overtook me before we stopped at the feed station to replenish all. The bonus was coffee was on order. Lovely. It is a pokey old stop with not much room at all for the numbers coming in but we made do and had a laugh whilst eating, typically Amir at the centre of it.

Climbing to Qhothquan with Martin Edgley

All of a sudden the temperature dropped markedly and it was jackets back on and let’s get going again.

Off we set and boy was progress slow. Every muscle ached to get going. We all struggled and to warm up. The road undulates big time as we cross the central Lowlands and any short rise hurt but we just wanted to keep going rotating the front. I started to struggle up some short hills.

At one point I had mixed feelings, no shout of ”on your right” until the fourth rider and still they kept coming. I wanted to shout at the front but then there was an even better call of ”last man” after some dozen or so passed. Absolutely brilliant I thought it doesn’t take much.

At one point we passed Sebastian Thelu another Zwifter I said “honestly what’s your brother Charlie playing at leaving you?” Little did I know it was actually Charlie but his name flag had his real name on it🤷‍♂️🤦‍♂️. I laughed and carried on and not long after I saw Nick Swan on his own. As I went passed I said ”Come on Mr Swan, 5 is better than 4 hop on” as we all worked to get the job done.

At least it was not raining but it was murky. We started to encounter the small towns on the outskirts of Livingston. I was pleased to see the sign for West Lothian this meant Edinburgh was near.

A long descent takes you off the hills and down through village and on to a main road that leads to a cycle track that takes you through the Sky TV buildings. We hopped through here as quickly as possible but now we were on busier roads with a number of roundabouts. What made this worse was that the misty fog had descended too.

On a long drag I seemed to bet dropped but couldn’t catch up on the false flat downhill and bigger descent to Uphall. I was saved by the lights where we turned left and I had warned to get in the right gear as it is a little climb to the top. Traffic was busy and they couldn’t pass us as the mist prevented a safe overtake. Normally there is a brilliant view across the Firth here and the 3 Firth of Forth Bridges but the mist prevented this.

We were nearly home and a short hop on a main road allowd Martin Edge and myself to open the taps and speed on to the finish at Hopetoun House and base camp. Beth wanted a photo of us over the line, so here we are.

I went and bought a smoothie as a recovery drink and found Deloitte had laid on another surprise for us beef sandwiches and cream team and cakes. It was very nice especially with a beer too.😀

Whilst I sat there I noticed that it was a quick time today and as it turned out my quickest of the trip. Also although 300+ miles to go I first had the thoughts that the end was nearing on this ride. It wasn’t a nice thought as the people were so friendly, funny and we had all developed a real sense of comaraderie.

Then stories started circulating of real sickness in the camp and riders abandoning the ride on medical grounds. A bit disconcerting and Id paid particular attention to sanitisation and hygiene. I couldn’t let this happen to me.

A went to bed that that satisfied but excited for the day to come tomorrow. My favourite stage and the third of Deloitte’s four climbs, Glenshee.

Day 7 Edinburgh to Strathdon 112 miles 7,332 feet of climbing

For me the best stage on Ride across Britain. The stunning 3 bridges, Perth the gateway to the Cairngorms and 50 miles of breathtaking views, Glenshee and with 4 climbs at the back end, a big day in the saddle.

Again I was awake at 4am but not tired. I was quite happy to start getting ready. It helps with organisation I suppose but there was a dampness in the air and then the rain came. It was not going to be a good day. In the morning twilight I could see a mistiness also and that would mean views would be at a premium sadly.

I ate a good breakfast but the rain was affecting the entry to the marquees. All entries were soaking wet just what you needed. When I was ready I met the usual crew for an early start.

It was dark, damp and hard drizzle meaning I was uncomfortable. The initial road away from basecamp is narrow and uphill. Nothing major but you aren’t warmed up and it was hard. The road was wet also just how i hate it. I was worried about braking on the roads to come. The blessing was it wasn’t cold.

The road comes to a junction where we turn left and follow the main road to the 3 bridges. We were taking the old road bridge now specifically designated for buses, cycles and pedestrians. Sadly it was foggy and views were limited in the damp early morning.

There was a lot of road traffic cordoning without clear guidance as to where we should go but we made do crossed over and followed the road for Inverkeithing. It climbs up through the town and as we went under a bridge a rider in a white top ghosted passed me. My voice echoed in the shadow of the bridge and he turned and apologised when he heard, “Why can’t people say on your right.” He didnt lesrn his lesson as not long after when we had overtaken him, he said nothing as he passed us again. I mean this was getting silly.

It was still overcast as we travelled on towards Cowdenbeath that looked a tired old town. Any despondency over the conditions was brightened by Amir as always. The route isn’t that picturesque here but in these conditions was shocking. However once passed here it is a run down passed Loch Leven and the sign for the Crook of Devon that I always smirk at and on to Kinross. I for once caused merriment for Amir when I told him its alternative name.

I was amazed when we turned on to a back road that was signposted as ”walking and cycling friendly” and obviously these locals enjoyed watching us go passed.

As I look back we were maintaining a good pace even if it was still overcast conditions. The country road was really nice to ride with a smooth surface. The rain had abated and so the ride was better for it.

A short descent took us to Glenfarg where a number of people were out cheering us through. The road sweeps along adjacent to the M90 and then entered some trees and climbed up in an S shape and on towards Perth. I remembered this climb where there was a lovely Herefordshire Bull standing proud in its field. I was dropped slightly perhaps tiredness kicking in.

After another climb that merges with a main road, Perth opens out in front of you and you descend down towards the river Tay. However we turn right down through an industrial estate and passed the harbour, yes a harbour this far inland. A long straight takes us to a junction that when turning right goes over the bridge crossing the river. We motored along and stopped at the junction.

I was ready for the feed stop that I knew wasn’t too far up the road. I had to wait at a set of lights and got separated from the others but its not far up to the Palace of Scone that signifies the turn for Perth racecourse where the feed stop was. It’s a long driveway into the racecourse where I parked my bike and went to the coffee shop before meeting the others. Bagpipe music was playing and I said, ” Can you hear that cat that’s being strangled? Must be an English one. Those blokes in their kilts can’t kill it ” that caused a bit of laughter.

We set off again but Amir wasn’t with us. On the way out I saw Nathan coming in. I seemed to be a bit behind the others as we rode down a long tree lined road on both sides that then passed into fields before a long straight section that took us back to the main road. I tried to take my jacket off as I tried to catch up but it wasn’t happening.

We were on our way to Blairgowie. The road was quick and we passed by six or seven motorbikes as we entered the town. It is a busy town with roads that turn at right angles before we go over a bridge turn left and make our way onto the ”snow road” and the highlight of the day. But on the way it also passes the tallest hedgerow in the World, the Meikleour Beech Hedge. I mistakenly thought this was after the Perth pit stop but saw this at the last moment not realising it was it and boy its high must be 40feet or so. We left Blairgowie and we stopped to take our jackets off.

I was now getting dropped but couldn’t fathom why. I was slower on the climbs but even the level and downhill I couldn’t make an impression. I tried with one last effort as we descended to the narrow Bridge of Cally and the short climb after but to no avail. However after some considerable time the others let me catch up but it had been tough to say the least.. ”Christ you don’t make it easy do you.” “We eased on the downhills and level bits” said Martin Edge. ”Well whatever your speed is I have to go significantly faster to catch you and uphill you go away again,” was my reply. As a singleton as well I had no help either.

Still the Spittal of Glenshee was signposted as 8 miles and as I look back they were a long eight miles. It is all uphill in essence but the road goes up and down big hummocks that are energy sapping and yet after a mile or so and a short steepish hill I was dropped again. I was okay with that as I wanted to enjoy this road as the hills were becoming more pronounced.

After a while I caught sight of the entry to the Cairngorms and found another single rider who wondered what I was doing turning around to go back for the photo. I told him and he did the same.

I saw Will who also got dropped from the pace of Brian and Edgey but I was slightly disappointed as though the skies had brightened the sun wasn’t out because this ride is to die for.
The rolling road went on and on drawing you closer to the main event. I just wanted a quick time this year. First time I kept stopping for photographs and I couldn’t ride the stage in 2019. I wasn’t sure where the start of the segment was but as we swung round to start the long climb to the Ski Station Big Al had his tuck shop in a road junction. It was nice to stop take on some sugars for the climb ahead.

We were soon off and way up in the distance you could see the road traversing the hill from left to right before it swings left and you take on the real climb to the top. Before that the road continues undulating and is relatively easy as each downhill carries you to the next uphill rise that you do without too much effort. This goes on for a mile or two and you see the photo flashes in front of you.

I was in a good rhythm and found it relatively easy to the base of the climbing. A guy seemingly fresh as a daisy came by me and asked me what my RAB Zwifters jersey was all about. I told him but I think it does what it says on the tin. He mentioned he was friends with Yanto Barker who is part of Le Col who made them. Yanto has roots in Mid Devon cycling as well. Anyway he was fresh as this was his first day of RAB onnthe Scotland only leg. 🤦‍♂️ No wonder and he soon sped off.

Having passed the cameras it was on to the real part of the climb. The initial slope is quite easy at about 8% and as I got to the Devil’s Elbow view point the media girls were in the middle of the road filming all our grimaces. I rode passed to the cheer of ”come on Martin,” to the slight left turn to see the consistent 12% 500metres or so for the last section. I was in my lowest gear and just turning the pedals. It hurt with all the miles in the legs do I alternated between standing and sitting between each snow drift pole at the side of the road. This seemed to help and I was soon at the top to meet all the Deloitte team cheering at the top. A sharp intake of breath and it was a short downhill to the Ski station where feed stop number 2 was. It was 3 of the 4 Deloitte climbs done but the worst was still to come.

I met Diane, her Mum and Bertie whoAt the top the wind had got up and so were waiting for me with another can of Coke that was welcome to have have with my Beef and Mustard sandwiches and my usual two yoghurts amongst other sugary foods.

The wind had got up a bit and so we all put our jackets on for the descent. This one is exhilarating to say the least. This one you get full value for your climbing. The initial right hand arc leads you to a straight full on descent for 800metres os so before it then runs down the glen where you pedal easily to maintain speed down to Braemar. We just flew down it and enjoyed the long glen road as it sweeps you on passed the 1715 Jacobite rebellion stone commemorating the uprising that began in Braemar. it is a brilliant road to ride with streams or burns on your left and the mountains on your right. Neil filmed me briefly as I rode down it, I was having a blast.

In no time you arrive in Braemar home of the Highland games that has many a fine building and a castle on its outskirts. We were shifting too much to take on the views or stop and the road plunges into Pine trees as it follows the river Dee.

We all worked as a unit down the road for 3 miles going through some roadworks just as the lights turned red but it was easier to ride on than suddenly stop. The road takes you to nearly Balmoral castle before turning left to double back on yourself to start the business end of the day. Id laughed at those who thought it was only 2 climbs left according to their Garmin or Wahoo devices. “Ok” I said if you want to believe your devices then 2 it is. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

For me it’s 4, the initial climb that plateaus before rising again, that could be described as one then a second sharp climb that descends over a bridge for one last slog for a mile to the top of the last climb.

Turning left we were going to split up but I knew that and gauged my effort. We had one encounter with a van who was speeding down the road too quickly. Will and I could not believe it. Surely with a steady stream on cyclists he was on warning. A distant tooting of his horn told us he didn’t care.

I was tired but the climb seemed easier as it broke out from the trees to reveal the Cairgorms again. Many riders stopped to take photos and as I crested the top, Tony Long came passed. The descent is tricky and is where Nathan the Gangsta crashed in 2018. Tony is a big guy on a bike and drops like a stone, so leading our group I used him as a marker and the lines he took to descend really well.

At the bottom there is a bridge and with a sharp right turn you get no run at the nest hill that is the steepest but it’s short. You are hurting now after a long day and it takes all your might to get up it and its where Tony Long suffers since I passed him up it. However at its crest there is a short run downhill but you can see the final climb stretching out on the other side of the glen in its entirety. Dotted on the hill were the greens, blues reds and yellows of cyclists spaced out ahead already climbing.

Gathering as much speed as I could of the short climb I rode down over the valley and upwards to a short left arc and on to the grind ahead. It was slow or seemed so as I turned the pedals. All I could think was I seriously need to look at easier gearing. I am getting too old to drive a lower ratio. Time actually passed quite quickly and I seemed to get to the top quickly and was glad for the brilliant descent on the other side. As a reminder of tomorrow you pass a sign for the Lecht ski centre if you are a walker. Nice I thought but that would have to wait.

Once descended you cross a bridge and turn right for a long 5 miles to the basecamp. We were directed by some RAB mechanics at the junction. It was a longer 5 miles than I recall but I was done for the day so used them as a warm down. My thoughts were now turning towards the start of Day8 and the fearsome Lecht. It is horrible and wondered if I was good enough for it this year.

As we went through Strathdon I noted the war memorial on my left before entering basecamp where I discovered my tent was in a pretty good position for a change. Bonus. Not too much walking around tonight.

I had a good carbonara dinner washed down with a few of the old Irish black stuff to assist my energy recovery before making my phone calls and seeing Bertie was comfortable. it had been good to see him.

I went to sleep easily, especially as the local bagpipes weren’t in camp this year but with a sense of fear for what lay ahead. One major climb left but what a climb it is.

Day 8 Strathdon to Bonar Bridge, Kyle of Sutherland 109 miles 6,735feet of climbing

Again I was awake early but had slept well again. Perhaps nervous about this morning I don’t know but I was apprehensive. I went to the drying room and picked up my shoes that had been damp from yesterday.

I met Will again for breakfast and said I wanted to be out early. I just needed to know if I would succeed up the Lecht or not. I wanted it over to walk or not. I was fully prepared to walk but really it was not what I wanted to do.

Having put my bag on the lorry I set off for my bike with a real sense of doom. I got my bike and met the others ready for the off. On a plus point they had changed the route after Inverness to save 10miles. It meant in my eyes a more treacherous route on the main A9 for a bit.

Lights were on as we left in the dark but by being out early we weren’t going to be in trouble with the broom wagon. The first 5 miles retraces your closing miles from the night before and is one drag back up the valley with the odd small incline to negotiate but I felt nothing in the legs. I was dropped but we had agreed to regroup at the top of the Lecht.

I passed the turning we made last night and it is another 2 miles to the start of the climb it was still dark but warm. I had put layers on because it may be cold up at the top. Onwards with Corgarff Castle of my left you swing to the right and the climb is laid bare. You can’t hide from it it hits you in the face from the off. 20% with no warning nice. Into the granny gear I went to the pain barrier straight away. Every time I have done this I question my sanity but I have a determination to keep going.

Every leg muscle was being used out of the saddle and they in turn were telling me to stop but each turn was betting me up. I can do these climbs but with 750miles already in the legs and general tiredness it truly is horrible. After some considerable effort and around 150m the gradient eased to turn right and then go again. I looked up saw the road closure gates and the start of the trees and went for the next bit, I seemed to be quicker here and thought then that it wasn’t that far to the turn left and the third section.

I struggled up shouting loudly and a rider Chris Carden in front of me said “come on you’ve got this, nearly there”. “I know” I shouted “Id done it before” but I may have given him a hard time I knew that he was meaning well. As I got to the second corner I was nearly sick. I didn’t want to see my breakfast for the second time but I nearly did. I turned left and one last push on the bottom section. As I pushed up every pedal stroke was becoming harder. I saw Will on my left stopped and passed him with Chris encouraging further. On on on I went with each turn hurting more. Dont you quit now I said and the road slowly turned to the right. Chris went into a lay-by to turn as the gradient is easier but I pushed on and for once they weren’t playing Flower of Scotland out of the car stereo as the gradient relented and the first part was done.
The top part is then laid out in front of you like a staircase and you get a good run at the bottom part of the staircase. The climb was now shrouded in cloud but the steps up are a lot easier and I was happy that I would now complete the Lecht.

The Deliotte cheerleaders were at the top cheering you as I broke through the cloudss at the top and saw all the others waiting by the side but the finish of the segment was at the Ski Centre. They had stopped at the wrong place and so the slowest climb had the fastest time up the Lecht out of our team. I was laughing to myself.

Having stopped to prepare for the descent that is fast and furious Paul Webster joined us another Zwifter. I was petrified as it had started to drizzle. I was very circumspect on the descent as it has two blind dips and I hoped that I wouldn’t skid on the greasy surface. Once I found the road was more manageable I relaxed but on a left turn the heavens opened. it was horrible but I was glad I was on the flatter sections as we rode on towards Tomintoul. I was with Paul but we quickly got dropped by the others as the road travelled down a descent and turned left to the town or the Whisky Capital.
It was wet and I couldn’t put my finger on it my something was not right. I had little power or stamina. I was glad of my layers but was getting wet but I wasn’t cold.

There was a long drag climb and I could see the others racing away but I was losing ground big time. Once over the top there is a fast technical descent with short hairpin bends down to the Bridge of Brown. i nearly over cooked it on one corner but crossing the bridge it goes up again with an out of the saddle effort and This did me in. Short sharp I had little or no energy but gradually made it up. Thankfully Paul who is a big unit struggles up climbs and so I had company before the Shona Hughes and 2 other singing girls came passed us. Whatever gets you through it. At the same time a car whizzed down at speed and I just thought what if a cyclist was struggling up the initial climb and not on the left side, it could be nasty.

I chatted to Paul as we climbed the final section but I cannot remember what asI was feeling queasier by the minute. On I went turning right but still climbing but once the gradient was done it is a brilliant long gradual descent off the mountains that you can let your wheels just roll. The road was greasy but how the devil one rider dressed in pink with a lady in tow, felt the need to ride at the speed of sound and pass us without a warning word beats me. What a prat.

I rolled into the first feed station in Grantown on Spey and fancied a coffee to help warm me up but the van was not there. However I met the others and had a bit to eat. I said why not go to the Esso garage which initially met with approval but as we were going to leave they all wanted to crack on in the damp.

So we set off shaking grass and rubbish from our cleats and yet again it was a struggle to het going. We leave Grantown and the river Spey on a slight incline and through a wood and onwards to Dava. I was losing touch with the pace and there was nothing I could do about it. My buddy Neil Beighton saw what was happening and said he would stay with me. I was grateful for this as despite that I can ride on my own the way I was feeling it would be good to have some company.

The roads are easy to ride without any discernible hills and so I could conserve energy or whatever energy I had. We chatted along the way and I was able to advise what was coming. The old AA telephone box at Dava signals the turn off the main road and we would now be on single track roads to Culloden. I was feeling awful with many an acid reflex. Just when I thought I was ready to fully complete the ride I was having doubts.
We rode on down to Dulsie bridge that I warned Neil about as it has shingle in the middle leave alone cyclists stopped for photos and a sharp climb on the other side. Sure enough riders were blocking the road in part and then the climb came and I was out of the saddle and as I crested the top I felt sick again with the effort.

Neil later said he thought I was a bit delirious as we carried on riding quite well despite mine and the road conditions. As we came round one corner a local family had gathered and were handing out home made flapjack to riders that I took and put in my back pocket to see if I could eat later.

There were many a laboured short climb that I just did the best I could but as we did one at the top were Will and the Edge stopped as Martin had had a puncture or problem with his tubeless tyres. Neil told me to ride on whilst he stopped knowing I wasn’t right and that they would catch me in time, so on I went. I was looking for the Culloden Railway viaduct being the next marker.

The wind had started to blow and I started the descent down passed these beauties that I remembered from last time.

As I turned left at a junction I joined another cycle-cross bike ride Coast to West Coast who were there also in 2019. There were stopping overnight somewhere with all their camping gear strapped to their bikes. However I remembered a horrible short climb that was now imminent. This was going to take a big effort with the way I was feeling. I wasn’t going to stop and just sat in using the other riders as a guide.

I was slow up it but cycled to a right turn and down to the viaduct that is a beauty but I wasn’t going to stop I needed to get to Inverness and the feed station as quickly as possible. My stomach was turning.

As I continued on a couple of riders asked if I was alright that was nice. I just had to get to the main road knowing a short mile and it was downhill all the way to the feed station. I just pedalled slowly up to the junction turned left and then was greeted by a strong headwind. It took a lot to cycle into it. Two riders came and chatted asking me what the ride was and I explained. They were local riders and I said we were off to Bonar Bridge. ”Not far to go then” he said. I was grateful to shield behind his daughter unashamedly for a bit until I descended down in to Inverness.

Down I plummeted to a major crossroads where the lights were red. I got going again desperate for the feed station around a mile away as I needed something from the medics. It took all I had to watch the traffic around me as I cycled up to the right turn and into the feed station. At least I wasn’t cold. I parked my bike saw Brian and others and went over to the medic.

I told him I felt sick and if he had a Gaviscon tablet or something. I have to say he wasn’t that helpful and then Big Al turned up asking if id had any diarrhoea which I said no. I suggested having a Coke and they said yes but get some of the gas out of it first. Nick Swan was there with one and I asked him where he’d got his from and I missed the coffee van where I went and bought one. I didn’t care it was £1.50. I shook it abit as I walked to the others since Neil had arrived also and started drinking it. I felt quesy and bent over on my haunches for a bit. I could not stomach any food. I finished my drink and again felt awful. Edgey was getting his bike fixed and they were waiting. I went to the loo and as I came back they had gone but all of a sudden I had to run away from the feed area as I then wretched everything from breakfast up in the field big time. I heard a shout from the mechanics ”Wait there!” they went to get a medic. I stood there for around 10mins in the cold wind and no one came. I could see the medics just looking at their phones and I was now getting cold. “Is anyone coming?” I shouted back to the mechanics and in the end I walked around the back of the vehicles and back to the medics and though I felt 100% better told them Id been sick.

The medic gave me a dioralyte to have in my bottle and said please check in at basecamp. I now had a decision to make. Do I cycle on or wait for the broom wagon and take a strike. I wanted to ride it all and I felt ok and didn’t want to wait at least 2 hours so decided to ride on.

As I got my bike I noticed some crew members looking at where I had been sick. I just got out of there as soon as I could but was going to do the last stage on my own and the new route.

After a short ride I almost regretted my decision I felt uncomfortable with little or no energy. Passing through the centre of Inverness, passed the Castle I was in the company of other cyclists and it was good but they soon were travelling faster. On my right I heard and then saw an ambulance moving quickly as we then went through an industrial estate and on to a cycle path to take on Kessock Bridge that crosses the Beauly Firth and on to the Black Isle being the new route. This bridge was horrible into the teeth of the wind and the riders in front disappeared, I was struggling but better this than waiting for the broom.

After an eternity, I dropped off the bridge and down a cycle route to Kessock village and as I turned a sharp corner I could see Julian Mack stopping me as there also were flashing blue lights at the bottom of the narrow path. I had to get off and walk passed where a rider was being put on a stretcher with his neck in a brace. Big Al was there and I assume the ambulance I had seen earlier. I noted the name of a rider as they were a group that always were travelling quickly, so I don’t know what happened but the path wasn’t one for quick riding to say the least. It was a wake up call not to do anything silly but perhaps setting off again when I had been sick was.

The new route then took us up away from the shoreline over the A9 and on up towards Munlochy. I was going to enjoy this as in was incline after incline that I didn’t enjoy and a number of riders passed me. There was nothing I could do but just pedal in the easiest gear I could find, try to think of something other than what I was doing.

I became annoyed as two quick chaperones passed me cycling together without a word as to how I was. It seemed strange that ordinary riders asked me seeing I was struggling but those there to help couldn’t be bothered or didn’t want to. Perhaps I should have called out but as I didn’t know it was them until they had gone passed maybe I was too late. I passed the Munlochy school house in the forest before we had a lovely downhill towards Culbookie.

The descent took us to a junction but as I cycled down there above me I believe was a red kite soaring looking for food. This made me smile. On my right was a Spar shop so I stopped and went in and bought two cans of orange Fanta, placing one in my back pocket and drinking the other outside. I saw a number of cyclists go passed as ImtriedI tried to regain some strength.

Then I saw Amir with his distinctive orange helmet and shouted to him to see if he would help me get back as support. He said he would. As I set off traffic was around and I missed him somewhere but cycled on with another guy behind. We cycled on for about a mile and I was concerned no other cyclists or signs I felt I missed a turning. Annoyed I turned around and so did the other guy cycling back to the Spar shop. Yes I’d missed a turning and explained why I lost Amir.

It was a thunderous straight road down to the Cromarty Firth and the long road bridge but back on the A9 again. I crossed it ”pulling” 2 or 3 riders behind into a wind.

Once over the bridge, the lady behind said thank you for taking the brunt of the wind across the Firrh and then we had around 3 miles on the A9. I wasnt enjoying this section as you’ve guessed it riders came passed in the increased traffic without saying ”Oh your right”. I mean come on were are a major road!!!!!!!

At a roundabout we turned left for Evanton where we would be back on the normal route. We had around 25 miles left from here so I pulled over and drank my other can of Fanta where a number of others seemed to have stopped also. Nathan Gangsta came passed pulling a few riders along and so I decided to set off again. I can do this I said to myself and to use Threshold’s motto #MoreisinYou never would this me more needed.

Each little hill was an effort when I have nothing to give. I had to finish its only this long upward hill to Struie but you can do it. You’ve done the Lecht this is nothing compared. As I crawled up one bit I heard, ” Come on Marty hitch a ride”. It was Richard with around 5 riders pulling them home. He slowed as I said I couldn’t even at his slowish speed and told him what was wrong. He went to the front of his group and had a word with another guy and then slowed to pick me up and to this day I’ll be grateful for his help as he saw me home. I wasn’t as bad as 2019 but I had nothing in the tank. I hadn’t bonked but obviously the sickness had affected me. Rich stopped made me eat some sugar sweets and just walk a bit to get my legs doing something differently. It was the first I’d eaten since pit stop one for fear of not being able to keep anything down.

I kept describing the next points on the route to Richard as I knew it well. Either a cunning ploy to get me just thinking of what was coming than on pedalling or Rich really could not remember. I remember a lady called Alison being with us encouraging me to be between Richard and her but we lost her somewhere maybe when we stopped. At one stage albeit on another incline we were only doing 5mph not good.

However after a long slog we got to the top of Struie Hill and the view point which revealed Bonar Bridge in the far distance. Just a fast downhill and a long flat road beside the Firth and basecamp would be there.

I was so happy at this point but remembered the downhill had a significant bend at the bottom as we thundered down. I nearly over cooked it last time I was here but as we braked and swung right there was a marshal in the road to warn of a diesel spillage. Well it was more like a flood with evidence all over the road and for some distance too. Ever mindful I passed with care and onto the junction with the road that passes along the shoreline. It was manageable and We seemed to pick up some pace or more likely I spied a couple of riders in front to pass, something I had not done for dome 50miles I reckon.

On through Ardgay passed their memorial we swung round to the right to go over the bridge. As we did I looked back up to Struie Hill where we had descended and then turned left for the longest mile or so to camp. I was ready to stop as I crossed the line and thanked my buddy for the last 20/25 miles. I hoped I would be able to return the favour one day.

Having parked my bike, I found my tent and got out of my wet clothes for drier ones before going to the medical tent. I spoke to a doctor as instructed and she replied ”Right I want you to eat plain food from now on, drink more dioralytes and also you are in isolation. As from now you are not riding tomorrow unless you can hold your dinner down in the next 12 hours. Come back in the morning.” No not again as my heart sank. Although spent I didn’t feel sick but they couldn’t take any chances as sickness was rife in camp. I was banned from the main tent and had to eat in a designated area.

It did have some perks, no queuing for a shower that I spent a good time in and dinner was by a waiter/waitress service. I ordered the pork and mushroom Stroganoff and ate as much as I could avoiding the sauce but devouring the rice. I filled my bottles with the dioralyte drink assigned to us and went to my tent, made my phone calls to say what had happened. I was desperate to ride the last stage. Would I lie in the morning or just hope I would be ok?
I heard the briefing before entering a deep sleep for about 2 hours before being woken up as other riders made their way to the tents. I was feeling ok and positive so far. I turned over and fell asleep quickly again. I had had a day in hell.

Day 9 Bonar Bridge to John o Groats 104miles 4,541feet of climbing

I was awake at 1am and 3am both times to go to the toilet but I wasn’t sick, a good sign but it meant the dioralytes were working. I was happy I can finish this I just need a medics all clear.

I lay awake from 4am having got my bag all packed. I wanted to be early into the medics queue and to order my breakfast in isolation. I went to the tent and queued up keeping an eye out for the lady coming for the breakfast order. Whilst there Phil Robinson was doing a live Facebook video for sponsors and an appeal for more money. He had raised £9.4k and would love to get to £10k and so to help him I did my best Bob Geldof impersonation that made him chuckle. I placed my breakfast order of 3 Weetabix and a cup of tea.

I got to the front of the queue and went forward next in line for the medic to say “Im doing saddle sores here mate you have to wait for the other doctor” so I went and stood at the other side of the tent entrance behind another lady. When she had finished I waited for her to exit only to find the guy waiting on the right was queue jumping. Excuse me I said Im waiting for him and am next. He still proceeded to go to the doctor so I went in and passed him and said “please wait your turn, Im next and have been waiting since 10 to 5.” Yes he said and “don’t we know it.” ”Yes thats good then,” I said as I closed the curtain.

I apologised to the doctor and then explained my situation in full, confirming I hadn’t been sick and that I’d passed water three times in the night. After consideration he said I was good to go. I was elated.

Now it was a race to get going to meet the others but first breakfast. I got to the isolation food tent and found they’d brought my Weetabix but no milk leave alone sugar. So when they brought my cup of tea I ask for some milk. I couldn’t be bothered to ask for sugar. I was glad I was riding and messaged Diane the news.

I got my bag and took it to the lorry seeing Will ag the meet point and said wait up I’m riding I just need my bike. It was pitch black and lights were needed but mine was not picking up my bluetooth and so I didn’t have a light to start with. I just mixed in the crowd and set off.
I was a bit stiff and wary in the dark with no lights but then saw a few others in the same boat.

An absolute blessing this year was that the storm force north westerly gales of 2018 and definitely 2019 weren’t blowing so the first 25miles or so would be so much easier. That said there wouldn’t be a tailwind to blow you home along the north coast.

The road from basecamp travels west for a mile or so before northwards to Lairg. It is hard to describe this area and it’s a single track road tracking the river Shin. You can hear it but hardly see it in the dark. Will and I sat in and chatted up the road but though a slight incline he dropped me somewhere chasing Martin Greig another Zwifter who was a bit further up. So I was on my own as I kept going up to Lairg.

At Lairg the skies brighten up albeit as dawn breaks as it sits at the bottom of Loch Shin. As you skirt the Loch you see Broon’s House, a wooden house on a little islet in the Loch. I had been passed it twice but never noticed it perhaps concentrating on the wind previously.

As I passed through Lairg I saw my tandem two again. We kept passing each other as I just maintained a pace. It becomes a long straightish road that gradually rises up on a very bleak and desolate landscape.

As it became lighter the surroundings and different light shades were a joy. I was however conscious of one rider just sat in my wheel and was so for some 8 miles without doing a turn on the front. I hate that with a passion just wheel sucking.

I saw a passing point up ahead and indicated I was pulling over, one to bet rid of him, two to take my jacket off and three to eat something too. A good opportunity I thought. As I got going again, Helen Webster came along side, she of the KitKat fame on day 2 and we chatted and had nice ride together for the next few miles as to road finally took a right turn towards the Crask Inn. This inn is so remote it begs the question who would go there for a pint but it maybe for walkers and anglers.

The short incline passed it is easily done because I knew that it leads to one of the best descents on the route. It’s a dream just gradually descending as the whole of the Strathnaver valley starts to be laid out in front of you. You are totally in control and the speed is a delight. However before that I was caught by Neil Beighton and we rode together and he took a good picture of me but I stopped at the top of the descent and I took this photo at the top.

I was however disappointed as over to my left and in full view and destroying the immediate beauty was some building works that will be a wind farm. This will be a blot on that landscape truly. The view is outstanding even if not in the sun but I was was heartbroken. I know we need sustainable energy for the future but this will be an eyesore.

Enjoying the run down to the start of Loch Naver it also means the first feedstop at Altanarrha. I felt in the need of something as I swung round to the hotel. as I slowed I saw Will and he said watch out midges and boy were they out in force. Crew were in Midge nets and it was horrible. I had never really encountered them before but they were having a field day. I quickly grabbed some sandwiches and went inside the hotel but they were inside as well. I ate them quickly and went to leave the as soon as possible. It was not good to hang around. I was grateful for covering my legs up as others were bitten to shreds.

I set off again on my own for the next section that is a joy as the road hugs the shoreline of the Loch. However there felt a bit of dampness in the air and I stopped to put my jacket back on in case. Yet again with a numbness in my left hand grip I couldn’t grip the zip. I was fortunate that Ian Sewell came along whomis a friend of Neil and he stopped and helped me.

We set off and rode together all along the shoreline but was passed by quite a few riders. I started to labour along so perhaps I was actually worse for the previous day than I thought but knew I could keep going. The wind was quite strong as a headwind. Martin Edgely and a big train came passed but I didn’t mind.
Soon the junction came that signified the run to Bettyhill and the turn for home. The beauty of a clear day with white clouds was the view out to sea was stunning as you took on the first climb of the north coast.

The climb to the top has a pub and hotel on the top and plenty of riders who had stopped there for refreshment but I was getting up the hill ok. Ian was ahead of me but Paul Webster caught me up and we rode together up and down the road as it traverses the north coast. At least there were good views.

More riders came passed congratulating me for my jersey. It was good to wear it on the last day and being able to ride today I really felt I had earned it. The beauty of the climbs meant lovely sweeping descents that gave you value but I was starting to feel tired and I wanted the next feed stop at Reay golf course. As i climbed one rise I was absolutely annoyed with a team of riders stopping in a lay-by. Dressed in blue and a team of 6 or 7 representing DAS, three came up on my outside with no call or warning, I was used to that by now but three then came up my inside as well with no warning. I let fly with a volley of frustration and annoyance. They didn’t even apologise.

The feed was in full flow today as there was no wind as it is a little exposed. Ian and I agreed not to be too long here as although the ride was ending you just wanted to finish. Again I chose the beef and mustard sandwiches with two yoghurts as it seemed to work for me. Richard arrived and we agreed to ride in as a three.

It was just 31 miles to go around 2 hours of riding that has been about 1 and a half in previous years. We motored along that flat but I was labouring up the climbs albeit they were easier. I don’t know if it was because I was tired or still the affects of the day before but I felt I was letting the side down.

We entered Thurso and the did the last climb of the day through an estate before turning left to take the last few miles to John o Groats. The characteristics of these roads are they are long and straight so I tried to ring Diane whose reply was ”you’d better get on with it then!” It made me chuckle.

You get excited once the view of Dunnet Head passes and you clearly see the Orkneys on a good day and today was a good day. In the near distance John o Groats comes into view. You still have some turns to make as it is tantalisingly so close but you become emotional as to what you have achieved to get here.

I rode down the last hill and in to the field that had been designated this year with Richard at my side.

It had been an incredible journey full of so many memories and good times and I had ridden every mile for the first time. In 2018 I had to walk part of the Lecht and 2019 I missed day 7 so the jersey was well deserved this year. At the finish Were RAB Zwifters who’d deferred to 2021 to greet us. That is bond we had created for RAB and was so special on top of the Bubble experience. Richard and I went down to the sign for a photo before walking back to collect my beer and pasta.

I was glad to be reunited with my little maestro who I’d missed.

Soon I was on my way to Inverness as others were still finishing and that is when the feelings hit you about what you have done and for me the sadness that it is all over. No celebratory dinner, no ceremony, friends you’ve made that you may not see again, the laughs, the anger at some circumstances, the banter the stunning scenery you pass through, it all adds up to a unique experience you will never fully replicate.

It is more than sadness I feel and something I cannot describe. Of course I am elated and proud of what I have done but that sense of loss always remains. If I can paraphrase Rudyard Kipling and Threshold’s motto, “If I can meet with elation and sorrow and treat those feelings both the same, more will have to be in me”

My thanks to all my RAB Zwifter friends who made the indoor training during lockdown and also on RAB a memorable experience, Amir Farboud, Martin Edgeley, Will Harris, Neil Beighton, Colin Whitaker, Martin Greig, Nigel Molloy, Paul Webster, Simon Reade, Nathan Robertson, Steven Gregory, Neil Maddox, Ness Hillsdon, Darren Green, Tracy Green, Paul Goldsmith, Brian Wilson, Kevin McGovern, Ed Hunt, Paul Hunter, Eamonn Farrelly, Simon Boswell, Denise Witchalls, David Farrington, Charlie Thelu, Tony Long, Nathan Wilmot, Paul Tippins. I met so many others Ian Sewell, Daniel Mahony, Bex Pawley, EL Curtis, Howard Spargo, Rob Leighton, Peter van Gucht, Nash Matinyarare and Beth Claydon who deserve a mention too amongst many others.

I should also thank my local Dartmoor rider Chris Fishleigh for putting up with my slow climbing in real life but most of all my RAB son Richard Burton who has ridden all 3 years with me and who helped me home on Day 8.

To all who have sponsored me for the British Heart Foundation and Cancer Research UK, thank you.

In the same way I thank my family but especially my wife Diane, Edward my son and my little maestro Bertie, who have to accommodate my cycling obsession.

Until we meet again, ride safely.

Black or Drowned Rat

Leave a reply

I was looking forward to the Black Rat Sportive as it was scheduled to be the reverse of the 2019 event and would take in the Gospel Pass again. Sadly an email two weeks before the event advised that the Welsh government were not playing ball. Thanks🤬 They would not allow cycle groups of more than 6 so the organisers arranged hastily a new route through the Cotwolds. You could defer if you liked but what the heck I thought. I knew some of the area let’s do it. My weekend cycling buddy Chris decided not to.

I was looking forward to the Granfondo route that would take us from Thornbury near Bristol out to Bourton on the Water via Dursley, Stroud and Cirencester and back again. However late afternoon on the Saturday we received another apologetic email stating owing to safety concerns that the Granfondo was cancelled and only the Medio was available. Recent weather created water filled potholes on some sections and therefore they could not guarantee rider safety. Still at 73 miles or so this would be good for RAB training. I was just hoping the weather would be kind as it was scheduled to rain for long periods on the day and we could get drenched.

So off I went on Sunday to meet Neil who I rode the Flyer with and Mike Lister who I met on the Black Rat in 2019 and used to commute to work with until COVID got in the way. I was annoyed that I couldn’t get a caffeine hit on the way as the drive through wasn’t open. Not a good start, what else could go wrong? 😩

I arrived at Marlwood School Thornbury at 7.30 where I registered for the ride no 144 and was given a Black Rat COVID mask, not that I was going to wear it. I use my cycling neck buff for that! I then found Neil and Mike before we walked to the start.

A short briefing to remind us of the course split and a nasty gravel section we were soon on our way as a three off towards the Severn bridge on a quick road that descends to the Levels. The route however after a mile or so turns right and up the Levels inland. These roads were twisting and turning passing through little hamlets with picturesque houses; hedge lined roads with short little inclines. I kept thinking of the hamlets as old Saxon settlements and who had decided to settle here in the past as we motored a long.

Twisty lanes with Neil In front and Mike

As we broke out into the open you could see a church standing proud on a hill in the distance, however Neil encountered a problem with his chain that he stopped for whilst I coasted to a stop a little further on. An old man was walking the other way and I asked him the name of the church but he was mesmerised by the number of cyclists and flabbergasted when I told him that there 500 or so and where we were going.

Little did I know that we were cycling right passed the church through Oldbury on Severn but as you know I like the style of our different churches around the country this was a nice one.

Whilst cycling along wee were chatting about all things RAB, Zwift though Mike likes RGT a different indoor cycling platform. We were cycling towards Berkeley and its castle. If you know your history it saw the demise of Edward II and as rumour has it, it wasn’t a pleasant end, a red hot poker was used. was looking forward to a photo hopefully.

The good thing about the Levels is that you can really travel quickly and eat up the miles and this we were doing with aplomb. We wanted to ride at a social pace as opposed to smashing it but we were ever mindful that we wanted to get as much of the ride done before the expected rain came.

We started to rise up off the Levels at Berkeley but I never got a good sight of the castle. We turned right in the village centre and started the long road to Cirencester.

A short descent out of Berkeley lead us towards a roundabout where there was a Marshall who I thanked but at the same time we were passed by around 8 or nine riders from the same club, Skeleton something, who were riding almost as a chain gang.
Mike said he didn’t understand why they rode like that. You can do a normal club ride instead.

The road lead us to the old A38 where we turned left and saw the Skeleton chain gang smashing it off into the distance. The problem now was we would start climbing up into the Cotswolds, not before a rider came passed us wearing a number 7. He was on a club time trial event and I realised the marshal I saw previously and thanked wasn’t our event.

We shared the load on the front and soon turned off the A38, over the M5 and hit the first climb of the day, Tait’s Hill. Not particularly difficult but I was slower than the other two. I laboured a little and did up the climbs on the day. Whether still the effects of my second COVID had some 48hrs earlier I don’t know but it was worrying me for the rest of the day.
We were on our way to Dursley but as I crested the top I passed a couple of riders that encouraged me before a flatter section where I used my speed to catch the other two who had coasted til I caught up.

Looking back over my shoulder to the Levels and the Severn

The crest of the hill also gave us a descent to the village of Cam where Neil stopped to take his gloves off. This is becoming a feature of any ride with Neil it seems. Mike and I carried on and waited for him round a corner before he caught us up. Opposite was a road that seemed to lead to some exclusive houses.

Setting off again we passed opposite a garden centre that was called “Leaf and Ground”. I reckoned that was a good name for a cafe stop.

The road now meandered to Dursley and was noticeably busier with cars. We turned right towards the town centre and on our left was a sports field with a junior game. The centre of Dursley was typical of an old market town with its church and stone arched buildings of yesteryear. My over the shoulder photo tried to capture it.

As we exited the town we rose up at a junction and Mike laughed at himself as we passed Lister road, that was a no through road. “My road there, Just like me” he said. My sense of self deprecating humour that, I chuckled with him as the road started to ramp up slightly but ever climbing towards the village of Uley. The climb was straight and a gradient that made you work but manageable. Neil and Mike climbed efficiently and I just sat in passing the houses either side and the odd parked car seeing the church high on my left as the target to the top where I saw the road curve to the left.
As I got to the church I passed a chap on his bike pedalling slowly he was an absolute unit chapeau to him.

I passed the Old Crown Inn at the top or what I thought was the top, the road levelled slightly and as I swung round to my left the road ramped up again. Groan. I sat in again and saw the other two some 100m ahead and started to pedal slowly again. I noticed the name of the road “Crawley Lane” very apt for me I thought.

I realised that this road was the main one from Dursley to Stroud with so many cars coming passed and braking in front of other riders ahead of me. On I ploughed into the tree lined tunnel not knowing how long this was going to go on for but I was happy as it reminded me of Cothelstone on RAB but without the traffic.

There was a typical forest beauty spot on my left near Nymphsfield that would have been a lovely view back to the Severn but I had other matters in hand. As I got to the top in more open ground I saw Neil and Mike waiting at a lay-by for me with a number of other riders. I cruised passed waving to say come on. I was more content with how I was as we traversed the ridge we were on. On passed the Bristol and Gloucester gliding club I was now on the front pushing a nice tempo passed fields of yellow flowers.

I knew that we were nearing a feed stop but also the the descent of Selsley that we had been warned about. The road entered a wooded section and on a straight I saw riders ahead on my left who I thought had had a problem. I was shifting along and suddenly realised this was the feed stop. No warning but I slowed and dived in to what was an entry to the woods. There were helpers dishing out whatever you wanted from the table into a brown bag for you. Good it was too, cake, banana, doughnuts, sausage rolls well I tucked in.

After a nice respite we got going again only to see “the unit” fly past bypassing the stop. As we rode down a hill slightly we broke out onto Selsley Common where a number of people were out walking. I became more circumspect as we were warned. The road was sketchy with shingle and stones that had been deposited on the road following the recent weather. Also you could see Stroud deep in in the valley below on our right.

picking up speed the descent became tricky owing to wet roads, stones, narrow parts and turns as you plummet increasingly more steeply. I was on the brakes before you break out on to a main road and a roundabout. I could hardly see the signage that eas a problem throughout the ride.

You had to have your whits about you as we were in serious town road country. We had to go off right on another roundabout near a Sainsbury’s and I was uncomfortable to say the least. Anyway we carried on and soon made a left turn an immediately started climbing again up the other side of the valley.
Again Mike and Neil went ahead and I “cruised” up it hoping by the time I got to the top the traffic lights would change. Neil and some others passed three or four cars to go to the front while Mike and I waited though I didn’t want to stop. If you started again the gradient would have been quite steep to clip in but on the front easier but a few drivers would be cheesed off; a stick or twist moment. I rode up but checked my pace on the side and waited for the cars to pass when the lights turned green.

The junction called Goldmans Cross was on the main Bath Road that we crossed on to Walkley Hill since we went up again from the off. I passed a grandfather and his grandson walking up the hill. The boy had been to rugby practice in his jersey. I was comfortable just pedalling on up and saw the Prince Albert Inn and the road levelling out, I was happy. That is until I got to the top, turned righteous at the pub only to see more climbing😩

The road now was taking us to Rodborough Common. The gradient steepened and we were into serious territory as the cattle grid came and went and were warned of cows being loose around the place.

This climb proved a little problematic being distanced from the others and more cars I was breathing heavily but just forged ahead setting a target point to reach and find the next.
As I broke out of the tree line the road swept to the right and was reminiscent of the final part of the Ditching Beacon climb. Exposed to the wind the road snaked its way across the Common where again Mike and Neil were waiting. Neil took this one of me.

In the valley below to our left was the railway and outlying area of Stroud.

We travelled as a three now further across the common and passed a great looking hotel the Bear of Rodborough. It looked good.

A short rise took us to yet more Common but this was a golf course, which I know not but boy I wouldn’t play it. The fairway was like rough, finding your ball would be interesting and the greens were in deep hollows like extended bunkers, weird but there were golfers playing.

We turned off the road and immediately left where we split from the Piccolo riders and on towards Minchinhampton. The road was quieter and descended to the village but we took this section with ease and climbed out at pace reaching the halfway point of the ride.

We had been warned of another sketchy section and as the road passed signage for the golf club you felt it go down and we hit puddles, shingle and all sorts on the road as it plummeted passed a woodland copse. I was very wary here to maintain my balance as I threaded my way down it. At the bottom the road rose sharply and Mike seemed to have taken a shot of EPO or something and he hammered it up and out of sight. Crikey I thought and hit the climb as best I could. Fortuitously it wasn’t long and as I crested the top Mike was waiting in the village of Cherington opposite this stone “monument”. Thoughts what it is anyone?

Anyway we regrouped out of the village onwards to Cirencester and as we picked up speed on a flat section Neil’s chain problem came back and he was stuck in the small ring on the front and would be predominantly for the rest of the ride. He’d have fun spinning his legs for the rest of the ride.😩

The road came to a junction where we turned right and onto the main road to Cirencester that was truly awful with potholes and general bad road conditions. It was in the main downhill too so you picked up speed whilst trying to select the right line. We all moaned about it but this was to last for around 3 miles passed the Agricultural College and on to the next feed station at Deer Park School.

Again the fare was good but this time punctuated with crisps and mini cheddars. Everything was eaten with gay abandon to say the least. Neil heard from the helpers that back at base the rain had arrived. We had ridden 40+ miles to this point so over halfway and needed to move to enable us to get as much over before we encountered it.

I put my rain jacket on and we set off back the way we had come in only this time it was uphill. I chose to sit in behind some other riders to for protection and preserve energy. As turning for home the wind hit us full in the face. This was going to be fun for 30+ miles😩

The route did make a turn left rather than the full climb we had descended but relief was short lived as we hit a steep climb that I laboured up and was out of breath on strangely. We were thankfully off the main trunk road.
Gathering myself we carried on through little villages and on our left near Rodmarton were some Boeing 747’s weird we thought. I later discovered it was Cotswolds Airport where planes are decommissioned.
On a left turn we hit a manicured tree lined route first a kind of tunnel and then spaced like a fresh road. I clocked that one rider was now using us three as a tow into the wind. I don’t mind this but do a turn on the front at some point please. All the while the wind was bracing and doing us no favours at all.

As we turned right onto the main road to Tetbury the rain started albeit annoyingly rather than full in your face stuff. I was dropped again being 50m or so from the other two as we kept rising uphill on a false flat into the headwind. I still had the leach on my tail. Sadly I couldn’t take anymore photos owing to the weather.

It was an effort to keep going but I wasn’t losing touch which was a plus point. I caught them up at a roundabout junction near Tetbury and we rode through the town bedecked in Cotswold limestone. Traffic was busy but we negotiated it well together with our appendage that was starting to annoy me even more.

Still climbing gently we crossed the Bath road again at a set of lights where the rain was now heavier. A little further on Neil stopped to but his thicker gloves back on and Mike his rain jacket. I put my extra gloves on and doing so our extra rider had to cycle on to save face. He’d had a 25mile tow and did absolutely no work at all, pr@t. Learn some cycling etiquette please.

Having climbed up all the way from Cirencester and needing to descend to the Levels again we soon were encountering the sharp twisting descent to Wooton under Edge. I was on the front on a slippery road in the rain just how I love sorry hate it. I took it very slowly as I didn’t know the line and one sharp bend took me by surprise. I was thankful I made it down ok and apologised to the other two for not speeding down but we all understood.

Having passed through Wooton on our left was a car boot of some sort there weren’t many sellers the smell of a hotdog or something was very appealing. Any such positive thoughts were countered by an extreme moment of madness as we neared Charfield. The road was open but funnelled to a traffic calming measure in the shape of a crossing point. As we approached we heard the revving of an engine behind us. We hit the calming measure to see a dark grey/black Mercedes or Maserati type vehicle with red wheel trim a and blacked out windows speed passed us using the opposite side of the road to overtake. Selfishly I wished that a car had been coming the other way as it was on a slight bend. I cannot believe the stupidity of some people that they can’t wait for 10 or so secs. He probably had a stash of drugs to drop off.

Momentarily shocked as we passed through the village we hit the next climb, short and sharp where I should have taken the cycle path as Mike did but I wasn’t thinking straight. The rain was starting to seep through my biblongs and I was starting to feel uncomfortable I ground out the climb.

We rode along with around 10 miles to go and were blessed to turn right and for the first time in a long while out of the headwind. The relief was palpable and we made better progress though puddles were now all over the road. I did think my bike was getting a free wash though.

We laughed as entering Tytherington we passed the Swan Inn on Duck Street. How appropriate but any smile we had was wiped off our face as the road ramped up again out of the village on up and under the M5 again. I was not happy climbing at this point. However I thought that was it but Neil said no one more according to his gps.

A quick crossing back over the A38 and we hit the signs for Thornbury. Nearly done I thought. A left turn at a roundabout took us on the road back home. However the climb up passed the golf course was the sting in the tail. Plenty of cars, rain, significant gradient and what seemed never ending was climbed with relief before turning right at the cricket club and down Down road and the final turn to the school.

We crossed the finishing line and I just wanted to get out of the rain. Underneath the covering we were able to get a chicken pasta salad that I washed down with some of Somerset’s finest.
Sadly no mug or glass tankard as your reward but I suppose I have a COVID mask!

On the ride and my general state I became worried about my fitness for RAB. However in the cold light of day with my event time of 5hours 28mins for 75miles and Strava telling me this was a harder effort than normal, I think I’m ok 👍

As I drove home the heavens really opened but at least we weren’t drowned rats 🐀 if only wet.

Bombing around the Wellington

Leave a reply

My goodness me is it really more than 18months since I rode a sportive? Well it was Ride Across Britain (RAB).Naturally with the pandemic we have not been able to ride events but with nothing to look forward to or train for, my cycling mojo had taken a battering.

However during the first lockdown I hired an indoor bike and kept turning my pedals that way before buying my own indoor trainer and joining the Zwift crowd, riding in a virtual world. Until the recent releasing of restrictions again there has been little to look forward to but events are starting to open up and more importantly RAB is scheduled for September.

With that in mind I responded to an email and booked onto the Taunton Flyer a ride I have ridden a few times before. I needed a ride and was going to be joined by a Zwift “friend” Neil Beighton who I had met online (sounds like a dating app) and who I ride with as part of the RAB Shaps riding team. We race and ride socially on our indoor trainers. We both were going to ride the long Wellington route being 101miles. It would also give me a chance to ride my new pride and joy in earnest. I had ridden around on it locally but this would be my first serious sportive on it.

Anyway Stewart Bergman the organiser was determined to get the Flyer off and running again albeit in a COVID compliant format and I was desperate to see where my fitness was at for September as yes I’m going again. Well I have to get my RAB gold jersey 😀👍

An earlier email confirmed my start time of 8.24 from the change of start venue being the disused Smeatharpe aerodrome rather than the plush Taunton racecourse that is now a vaccination centre.

I arranged to meet Neil there as close to 8 as possible and rang him on arrival to see where he was. We finally met suited and booted for the off. I mistakenly thought we were waiting for another of Neil’s mates to turn up and so we sat waiting before we realised we should get going.

It would be a rolling start as we turned left from the airstrip on a gentle slope to the village hall being the start line. Numpty had to stop briefly as I had forgotten to start my Garmin watch. We soon got going over the start line and on to turn right soon after off the fast road that we were on.

I was feeling quite sluggish as my legs got used to the sensation of riding along outdoor roads and I became apprehensive of the ride ahead. To pass the time Neil and I chatted about all things RAB and our Zwifting friends where we ride for the same Time Trial Team RAB Shaps in friendly competition with RABs Minions, Glenshees and Cheddars.

Whilst the roads undulated with some short punchy claims I was more concerned with the weather. We had started in bright sunshine but the rain was scheduled to arrive and it would not be pleasant. I had dressed accordingly after my last encounter with rain and was wearing 4 layers.

I do enjoy riding the roads on top of the Blackdown Hills as they are quite straight, though can be exposed. Fortunately the early parts were tree lined, however straight roads also mean idiot car drivers driving too fast passed us as happened a few times. One even going ballistic tooting his horn as we were riding two abreast that is perfectly allowable.

The descent off the Blackdown is lovely where we passed the event photographer with a nice surface to Staple Fitzpaine where we turned off the road and on to narrower twisty roads.
We were travelling well in our own world passing little hamlets come villages where houses were bedecked with colourful wisterias and other climbing plants.

We seemed to pass quite a few riders as we travelled along and I wondered how long I would keep the pace up but my new steed was an absolute dream. The gear shifting was so smooth that made riding so easy.

When we turned off at the course split the field of cyclists thinned out as the 💯 milers took a a long 40 mile loop up to the Westonzoyland airstrip near Bridgwater and back. The start of the loop has a horrible lane with shingle and a few potholes on a descent before you turn right and up a short sharp climb that Neil remarked was a bit of a stinger. I was just happy that I avoided damaging my steed.

The lane took us to the first main road for a while that we ride for 400m or so but all up hill to the beautifully named Hatch Beauchamp. The climb was made with ease and we turned off for the Currys. Around here are the villages of Curry Rivel, North Curry and Curry Mallet and others.
The roads are twisting and turning around the farmlands here and we were still shifting along picking off lone riders and I was enjoying myself. On passing one old airfield RNAS Merryfield, we passed group of riders and as I glanced across thought I saw a ribbon on one helmet, the sign used for RABers on events. A second look revealed long locks of hair and so I moved on. However I heard Neil chatting and he said “Martin there is doing it” when the response was “Phill there is doing it too”. I looked back and there was Phill Stamp. I wondered if I would see him on the ride. I had ridden with him in 2018 and on RAB 2018. The ribboned rider was Matthew Wilde and so we slowed and chatted away with the group. It was easier to ride as a group to save energy if a slower.

Phill greeted me with “new bike? No Italian rubbish then?” I chuckled to myself. My Italian stallions were at home I’ll never tire of them. I need to get used to my new bike for RAB.

Time passed quickly and so did the miles as we all chatted away. Neil decided to stop and changed his gloves saying he’d catch up. After a while I stopped as Neil hadn’t reappeared it was by a lovely thatched cottage.

As Neil caught we rode on through Puckington across the arable fields passing this old mill building to Curry Rivel with its war memorial and church. To get to the church you cross a main road finding yourself in the wrong gear for the short climb.

Once passed the church the road meanders to a short descent to the Somerset levels. We were travelling well as a duo now chatting away about all sorts but the descent was hampered by a tractor in front to stymied our flow.
On to the levels and the lands opened out and my mind drifted to the books of DCI Nick Dixon by Damien Boyd as the lanes and villages of the books are set around here.

Before long and crossing the main railway we found ourselves at Burrowbridge and the first views of the Burrow Mump, the church ruins on top of the mound. Here we caught a group at the junction to turn right and the lights over the bridge.

I remembered that we would make an immediate left turn to ride along the river Parrett briefly before swinging right to make our way to Westonzoyland the most northerly point of the ride. I seemed to hit the front and also remembered (and was thankful that it hadn’t rained yet) that we were about to pass through a farm. The road is festooned with usual farm muck and I warned all around me.

As we rode along the first semblance of a headwind prevailed as we negotiated the muck. I was more concerned with my new bike as the cows to our left munched their food in their troughs. So much so I made an incorrect turn at a small junction.

I found myself at the back of our small group but soon made my way to second wheel and sat in behind Phill Stamp protected from the wind. He is a big unit and the shelter was a relief.

Turning for to return south we shared the load across the open lands of the old airfield passing youngsters playing football, nice to see after our restrictions and on towards the first feed station at Othery. I tapped out a rhythm on the front as the wind was now not an issue.

The awkward junction back on to the main road was taken with ease and we cruised up to the feed stop with 38miles done. The stop was suitably COVID compliant and had some good fare to chose from even if we couldn’t access the normal style stop. A nice ham sandwich, banana, flapjack and tiffin was eaten with aplomb as Phill enticed a friend to enter RAB. Whilst sat on the wall there was a lovely blossom tree in bloom.

We perhaps spent too much time here on reflection and left to continue uphill out of Othery and coast down to Burrowbridge to complete the top loop.

The route back takes a different route that is dead straight passing many old small terraced houses on your right and flat fields on your left. You could really pick up speed but Neil and I seemed to be on our own here. A couple of short climbs were taken with ease but I didn’t enjoy the level crossing over the main railway line as I hoped I hadn’t damaged my steed.

We cruised through North Curryand soon turned left back onto the main road that took us back up the horrible lane we came down earlier. As I passed one rider I said to him I thought he had been brave without leg warmers but he was ever the optimist. In the distance to our right were some dark clouds moving in. Fortunately over the Blackdowns in the distance it still looked bright.

I only use a Garmin watch now but Neil had all the climbs on his Garmin device so I was able to gauge my power and effort for each distance. Although I have ridden the route before it is always to have stats to assist you.

We joined the middle distance again and would do for the rest of the ride. We stopped briefly to take a photo of Taunton in the valley below and as it turned out for a car to come by but it seemed to be a local rat run with cars coming the other way and more behind. I suppose cyclists didn’t help either.

Turning off the narrow lane to descend towards Taunton I had a cautionary feeling and how right I was. On a blind corner I encountered a large SUV that hardly slowed as we came down the lane and I was thankful and relieved in equal measure.

Neil and I powered our way on through the housing estate that was uncomfortable in late morning with so much traffic and back over the M5 and back on the road passed the racecourse. Still no rain at this point and I was hoping that it would stay that way.
As we passed the racecourse we encountered a 3 way traffic light system and as we got there the lights were changing. I said to Neil go,go,go. The distance was around 50m but I wasn’t going to stop.

The road is a gentle climb away from the racecourse up to Corfe where we took the turn for Pitminster. I was happier on these back lanes but I knew what was coming. The first real climb of the day. Neil said we were making good time considering. The climb in question is Angersleigh. In the grand scheme of things it’s not too taxing but if you’ve been riding at a fair lick above your normal pace then to hit a climb is not nice.
The run to it twists and turnns but you turn left at Lawton and you hit a gradient that doesn’t deviate from a constant gradient but drags on and on and on before swinging left to release you to the top of the Blackdown Hills.

Neil is a whippet and I told him I’d see him at the top. I just engaged a manageable gear and ground out the climb looking for the left corner signifying the end. It came mercifully and I pushed up the final 80m or so and felt better than I thought.

I coasted to the to the junction where Neil was waiting for me.

The good thing was there were only 4 miles to Hemyock and the next feed station, the bad was there were rain spots and we were on another fast road across the top. If the rain got heavier then the descent into Hemyock would be tricky to say the least.

In the main I followed Neil here as my orange jersey would stand out more for the drivers behind. We made good progress before turning left to be greeted with the Devon County sign. I said to Neil I could breathe more easily with a wry grin.

We ploughed on before the thunderous descent into Hemyock and fortunately the rain abated and it was as dry as a bone thankfully and we rode into the feed station at the village hall. Again a simple fare in the circumstances but all good stuff. I did spy some High 5 gummies that are about the only High 5 products I like so grabbed a few bags for my pockets.

A sign written to assist riders as to their next direction proved a bit confusing for some. I religiously study the routes by maps provided. If you did this you’d know where to go, it proved difficult for some. I told many a rider which way to go as the feed station was the second on the medium route and our third after a long loop to Cullompton and back.

We set off passing the church and instantly hit the next long drag uphill to Dunkeswell and back up to the Hills.

Again I said to Neil see you at the top, sat in and pedalled away. Surprisingly I managed the climb pretty well but remember puncturing on descending it in 2019, that was scary. At top it is a nice traverse passed Dunkeswell airfield where light aircraft were landing and taking off.

Still making good progress there is a tricky descent into Dunkeswell village itself with a sharp right header before a beautiful S bend across the other side of the vale where you pick up speed to be rewarded with a sharp climb. Inevitably I was in the wrong gear and exhilarated but got to the top before the short hop to the turning right to takes us passed the Environment Agency silo and the descent off the Blackdowns.

The descent was sharp, tree lined and narrow. I became circumspect and good job too as a car ascended at a rate of knots. However feathering the brakes I descended to the bottom rolling towards the villages Broadhembury and on to Payhembury. What I can say out of the villages you knew you were in farming country. The smell was all too Devon but I loved it in my home county.

The downside now was that the roads now until Westcott were uneventful and lacking as a spectacle. Hedge upon hedge lined road stretching far and wide punctuated by local villages, Colestocks, Feniton where we crossed over the Waterloo line and turned right at the beautifully named “Nog Inn”, Talaton where the road was wet and my steed got sprayed with mud and Clyst Hydon. Short climbs were taken with ease and we carried on.Our only concern was we hardly saw or passed any other riders.

As we got towards Westcott we saw to lady riders one who’d asked for which way to go at the last feed stop and one who realised she could catch a tow with us. Turning right onto the old A38 now a B road she hoped on the back as Neil and I shared the front, crossing over the main London railway line and the M5 to Cullompton.

In the distance was a red flickering light of a rider in front who we were catching. As we entered Cullompton I saw the old RAB jersey and realised it was big Phill Stamp again. As I passed him I said hope on the back and carried on at a fair pace through the town and out on the road to Willand. As we crossed over the M5 again there was a short climb that I tried to punch up but then felt a slight twinge my quads. I sat down and rested as we passed the football ground seen of my best refereeing experience an FA Vase cup tie before my untimely end to refereeing a few months later.

We slowed at a roundabout and had to give way before starting again on the long uphill straight road to Uffculme. We had broke the back of the ride by now with some10 miles to go but it was tough into a headwind now with our lady still in tow. As we entered Uffculme I was amazed at a bus driver who kindly flashed his lights at to let us through the traffic calming scheme when he had priority. This allowed us to maintain our speed on through the village and turn right to plunge down to the Culm valley.

The route now took us on a slight uphill route to Culmstock. I always like coming here as it is the birthplace of my grandmother on my father’s side and think of her growing up here walking the lanes I was riding on. A short descent and a turn right takes you passed the church and on to to undulating road to Hemyock.

Hemyock signified the final feed station and was some 8 miles from the finish. Neil and I agreed what was the point. We both had enough drink and so a# 2e entered the village and turned right to the village hall we carried on whilst our lady in tow stopped. The road instantly started to climb, gradually at first before ramping up sharply. My legs were feeling it now but I was happy. Neil carried on ahead and I selected my gear and powered up, through the sharp S bend and on to the top. One rider came passed me only to about turn and ride down to the bottom again, must be a masochist.

I met up with Neil again and we carried on. I saw a sign saying 4 miles to Churchinford a knew we didn’t have much further to go. However the road took such a long time to ride. I was feeling tired now but ground it out. At the end it was a turn right and a short 400m to Smeatharpe village hall and the finish.

We got our times from the event timer and I surprisingly had a gold time whereas Neil was only a silver. He is in the lower age category and I instantly felt guilty as he had waited at the top of the climbs for me but he said we spent too much time in the feed stations. Well my ride tide was 6hrs 53 but moving time 6hrs 16 so he was probably right.

We had our photo taken at the finish arch where I think I was appropriately dressed in Just Events orange before riding back to the airfield and to drive home when the heavens opened. Talk about being lucky with the weather. Still after such a long break from event riding I am happy with my fitness and this will only improve over the coming months for RAB in September.

Next up is the Black Rat in Bristol where I am meeting Neil again and riding with my local riding buddy Chris. Should be fun 🤩

Is it Madness? Ride Across Britain 2019 – Part Three

6 Replies

Day Seven – Edinburgh to Strathdon 112 miles by car

I awoke after a good night’s sleep but still guilty that I wasn’t riding today. It is without doubt the best stage. The Glenshee is such a beautiful glen and I noticed the weather was sunny as I looked out of the window. The sense of disappointment was deep down overwhelming but I had to count my blessings that I had to recover if I wanted to payback the Lecht for 2018. It had been my goal since entering again.

I had a bowl of porridge and a cup of tea before setting off to Strathdon. I said to Diane that I was going to go in to the nearest MacDonalds for a burger. Sometimes bad food is good food right?

Leaving at 9ish I knew the riders were on their way but I joined the motorway to Perth the gateway to The Cairngorms. After a few miles I stopped in the Kinross services and went and bought a large Costa coffee (other brands are available) and as I was waiting, a load of RAB crew came in too. Seeing my hoodie they looked quizzically at me. I smiled and told them what I was doing. I bought a coffee but they bought some cream topped concoction each before joining me in the queue for a Burger King. I didn’t care, this tasted superb as I wolfed it down. I felt even better after.

When we got to Perth we got stuck in a long traffic queue and saw a number of cyclists on their way to the racecourse feed station after the Palace of Scone. Once through it was slow going to Blairgowrie where we stopped as I wanted to buy a cheap shaver so as to shave as I was somewhat unkempt.

Then it was on to the Glenshee and to stop on the top. I saw the quicker riders starting to climb the long steeper section and they were blessed with good sunlight. When I got to the top I walked back to where the cheerleaders were, who included Nathan Robertson who had to abandon the ride through a knee injury. I grabbed a bell and started ringing it in support of the riders, giving encouragement as well.

As one rider approached I recognised who it was labouring up the last bit. My old mucker Richard was coming. I instantly ran down and gave him a bit of stick/encouragement and pushed him from behind. Sadly he grabbed my exuberant support on camera and I became known as the madman of Glenshee.

I apologise to any of you traumatised by this madman, encouraging you to get up the last bit when you probably wanted to punch me in the mouth.🤣

Come on Burton shift yourself

The madman of Glenshee

I have to say I enjoyed myself and then went to get some lunch in the restaurant but found I’d mislaid my phone somewhere. At the same time I went to see Stuart in the medical tent who said I looked so much better. I saw Richard in the feed station and also Ben Nock from Bovey Tracey who I’d played rugby with 25 years ago.

I then spent a lot of time trying to find my phone. At one point I drove down the glen to get a signal to use the “Find my phone” app. As I did so I rang the bell outside the window of the car much to the appreciation of the riders. At a lay-by I saw Anthony starting the last climb and rang my bell shouting encouragement to him as he was pedalling up also.

I never found my phone and decided to carry on to camp and sort out my phone later. The drive off the Glenshee is great in a car but so much better by bike. This picture by Stuart from the top of the chairlift shows it going down to the left.

Glenshee descent from the chair lift

I swapped driving with Diane before Braemar and whilst she was driving a telephone call came in from my phone. I discovered a lady with an American accent on the phone, who was a helper on RAB. I said thank you and could you give it to Stuart who I knew.

After taking the road to Strathdon and camp, Diane dropped me off and I felt a sense of loss, nerves and that I didn’t want to be there. I trudged off to my tent allocation, looking back to wave and see them go. They had waited to see I was ok.

It was hard seeing them go but knew my real challenge was coming. It was my raison d’etre this year. Day 8 last year had been dreadful for me and I knew the magnitude of tomorrow; the hardest climb being the Lecht and the longest stage.

I went and had a shave and noticed one rider being sick for England or should I say Scotland by the medical tent as I collected my phone from Stuart. I then met Richard and had dinner, Lasagne and garlic bread with a Guinness as I thought that would assist my recovery before seeing the local band come to play a gig. They made a racket when some wanted an early night!

Local band playing a gig

I went and found my bike that had been transported for me and I’m glad I did as my handlebars had not been retightened. I took it to the mechanics to sort for the morning before getting back to my tent to get ready for the fight tomorrow, with a dread of riding the bike again leave alone taking on the Lecht.

Day Eight Strathdon to Kyle of Sutherland 119 miles and 6518ft of climbing

Despite a chilly night I had a good sleep but woke up with nervous feeling and doubts that I wanted to ride. Nevertheless I got ready for the ride and went to meet Richard for breakfast. I did pop to the medics and asked for a Gaviscon tablet to help settle my stomach.

At breakfast I had the brainwave to make myself some strawberry jam sandwiches to carry in my pockets. “Great idea,” said Richard as he left me to do his packing up.

It was dark and so I made sure I had my backlight with me as I got to my bike and prepared to leave. I was riding solo and didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of the others if it all went wrong.

The start takes you along the valley floor back the way you got to Strathdon the night before. All the while I had a sense of foreboding and doubts in myself. I was glad it was warmer than last year.

At one point I looked back and saw the lovely sunrise before I concentrated on the task in hand. It’s around 5 miles to the Lecht and once past the junction to Craithie there was no turning back. The road increases in gradient and over to my right I could see the flickering red lights of early riders cycling up or walking part of the Lecht, my stomach turned.

It was here I met Sue Williams and we rode together as I described what was coming and we passed two chaps in a garden with cups of tea who said “Good luck” to us. On our left is Corgarff castle all white standing proud against the dark moorland. You take a right turn around a large copse and there it is and it hits you with 20% from the off; totally unforgiving.

: On our way to the Lecht

: Corgarff castle

: Corgarff castle

: The start of The Lecht

: The Lecht final climb

Simon Warren of the 100 Greatest climbs fame describes it thus:

A true monster of a climb through the heart of the Cairngorms, the road up to the Lecht Ski Centre is a simply stunning ride. You start your ascent from the beautiful Corgarff castle and straight away you hit 20% slopes – rough, relentlessly steep and twisting a little. Pass through the large orange gates used to close the road in winter – proof, if you hadn’t twigged already, that you’re heading into serious country. After an age on the opening steep gradient the road banks right to plateau before a brief downhill. What comes next will take your breath away. There, in front of you, painted onto the side of the mountain and looking like a giant flight of stairs, lies the rest of the climb. A short flat section ramps up hard, then almost levels before ramping hard again. Eventually you’ll bend around to the left and the battered, rugged road levels for good. In front of you is the Alpine-style Ski Centre, a simply awesome ride.

I hit the first slope, breathed deeply and set about the first slope. It drains you well me anyway. Halfway up it I said “I can’t do this” to myself. “Yes you can, don’t give up,” two competing thoughts as I turned the pedals, straining my sinews. A gasp and I said “okay you beat where I got to last year before stopping,” a fair compromise I thought. I got to the top of the first bit passing many a walker and turned right and used the flatter road to build some speed to tackle the next 20% bit into the trees. I had passed last year’s point so let’s see how far I can go.

I hit the second slope noticing cars coming up behind. I encouraged every rider who I passed or who passed me to keep going. Up through the yellow “road closed” gates and the road ramped further. I took another deep breath and said “ok to the left turn and see how I was.” It was tough I’m not going to lie and it hurt as I turned left using the middle of the road to ease the gradient. Two bits down one more hard bit on the lower slopes “you”ve got this” I thought.

I could see a flatter section above me as I took the third horrible gradient. My legs were starting to scream but I wasn’t giving up. I hadn’t come this far to come this far up this godforsaken climb. Each turn I got slower but nearer to the target it was like a double edged sword. “Come on you can do this” as the gradient eased slightly and we broke out from the tree line.

My concentration was disturbed momentarily by a cyclist passing me. It was Chris Weights again. I’d seen him over the week and he was making it look easy but also he has immaculate cycling dress sense. Today was an orange jersey and orange socks. I said “Go on Mr Weights again” as he powered away to which I received a reply “Well done Martin, good recovery.” It was Thor Beverley walking up this bit, no shame in that. “Thanks” I said to see the event car on the right blaring out Flower of Scotland to which I started singing Jerusalem in response as last year.

Though there was more to come I knew I had beaten the Lecht. Hard though the last mile or so is it is the easier part. A slight downhill gives you a run at the initial slope. I accelerated towards it then sat in. I heard some strange calls to my left and in the moorland I saw two black grouse pop out of the heathers and have a face off.

Up I went and then I recognised a walker on my left. I crept up slowly and was about to burst into song “Here’s to you Mrs Robertson,” okay allow some poetic licence but Jo turned and saw me, promptly got back on her bike as the event photographer was there. However I knew I’d beaten the Lecht and I was happy.

Up the Lecht and Jo behind.

Jo said she had agreed to meet her group at the top but the wind had started to blow significantly. I said “ride to the ski centre.” As I got to the top of the climb I saw Nathan Robertson cheering us up, so I crossed over and High fived him and took the short downhill to the ski centre and I gave myself a satisfying pump as the Lecht was now mine. Jo followed me and stopped at the ski centre where she took my photo.

Yes I did.

In the bag this year

it was really windy and so wanted to get going. Jo said she would too. I said I would descend and she could catch up as I spun along the Valley bottom. In view of the wind she was more circumspect than me and I never saw her again that day. If you want an idea of the descent here is Richard’s view at some 58mph at one point. Apologies for any swearing 👍

As I rolled along the floor you can use your speed to make progress but the wind did not help. I cycled passed James and Helen Degiorgio. I had seen them everyday I had ridden and who were cycling for Bloodwise. As I passed Helen I said “glad you are pulling him along as always” she smiled but said “he always goes faster on the descents.”

We made our way to Tomintoul where you descend on a long straight road and turn left to head into the town. It is the whisky capital I understand and all around were signs for distilleries but I do remember Glenfiddich and Glenmorangie on brown signs.

: Tomintoul

: Tomintoul

As I left town and the wind got stronger David the chaperone joined me again and we rode along together. We both agreed that the broom wagon could be busy today. It was going to be one of those days.

The road meanders on a slight incline through moorland through the lovely name of Fodderletter and I looked back at one point for a great view. However the wind was getting stronger the further we went along the road. I remembered that we were headed for a nasty little climb as well at the Bridge of Brown.

: David the chaperone

: Great view back

The wind was energy sapping as you tried to make your way along. You descend down to the Bridge of Brown and with a sharp bend that you had to brake so you could not get a run at the hill. It has two sweeping bends on a 15-20% incline and I just dug in but on the plus side knowing the roads to come was the last significant climb of the ride. It isn’t long but arduous and you do get a little protection from some trees before it breaks out into open exposed moorland that still climbs.

The gradient is not too severe but now the wind was full in your face stuff and horrendous. You are putting a lot of power through your pedals to combat the wind that was gusting up to 45mph but only travelling about 5mph. A lot of riders were off and walking at this stage. I went passed Coralie who said it was too tough. Indeed later I discovered that a number of slower riders gave up here as it was too dangerous to ride. However that speedy Gonzalez Richard came passed me here. Even he was struggling up it but going much quicker.

You cant feel the wind here!

After an eternity it seemed I got to the top of the gradual climb where the road turns to your right and there is another long drag for 1/2 a mile before you could see the long brilliant descent down towards Grantown on Spey. The problem now was that the wind was a crosswind and kept hitting you with gusts from the side but at least progress was easier.

The start of the descent to Grantown on Spey

I concentrated on the downhill gripping my handlebars as I sped along the road at around 40mph thinking that my aero dynamic bike from last year would have been interesting if Id had it this year in that wind. I had to have a new frame after it cracked earlier in the year.

The descent brings you to a T junction where you turn left passed these old railway carriages at the old Grantown railway station (now a cultural centre) before riding through the forested area and on to Grantown on Spey where the first feed was.

Grantown on Spey East station

I had a little race down a road with a couple of guys for fun to turn right and into the feed station at the golf course. I bought a coffee from the van to warm me up a little and to take stock with some food before setting off again.

I am not sure why but I am quite happy riding on my own and knew that I would enjoy the next section with its scenery. There is a short little drag out of Grantown through trees where you pass an old estate with a drive way at first then more of a castle lodge and an archway that crosses the road.

: Estate driveway

: Castle lodge and archway

I was struggling here last year on my bad day but was having a nice ride since the wind was no longer a problem, even when you emerge onto open moorland that is as flat as a pancake. The road though curves along and you could see cyclists going one way then the other towards a large copse on your right. This I knew was where we were headed and signified the left turn at Dava where there is another old AA phone box.

Dava AA phonebox and into Nairnshire

We were headed for Dulsie bridge and the roads by and large would be single track through a forest to Culloden. The road takes you across Dorback burn over more moorland before a left turn along Old Military Road.

We were really strung out now riding as singletons in the main. I remember a lot of riders in packs last year. Maybe I was just being quicker this year. I took a selfie as one rider came passed me as I traversed one road that twisted and descended to Dulsie bridge that is a little gem of a place.

: Selfie with a rider closing in

: Dulsie

: Dulsie

As I climbed up off Dulsie bridge, I became aware of another rider coming up past me, it was Hayley Parker again. In a strange coincidence from last year where I met Derren Midsen on day one and never saw him again until Culloden on day 8, so it was with Hayley. I saw her as we crossed the Devon border and never saw her again until today some 10/15 miles from Culloden, weird coincidence.

Anyway I said “hello” again and we rode for the next 3-5 miles and chatted away. As said, she is a very good rider although I think she may doubt herself, she will put many a rider to shame. She explained she was riding the event with her boyfriend, that she got into cycling through him and that she is only as good because he “gave up a year” to teach her. When I asked why wasn’t he with her she said “he would be miles up the road.” I did give her a tip though re commuting and Primark ladies thermal tights being my secret so as not to ruin my decent biblongs. It was good to catch up with her before I said you go on I’m only holding you back.

The single track road through the forest was punctuated in sound by the firing range off to our left and as I approached a rider he said “do you know I haven’t seen a sign or a rider in ages and now here is a sign and you come along!” We had a chuckle as I said “Always the way”.

Forest road to Culloden

I was enjoying it along here before the road popped out of the forest area and turned left and right to a junction. Not before I saw these Shire horses in a field, beautiful horses I thought.

Shire Horses near Culloden

On turning left we were exposed in the wind again but also we invaded another bike ride going on. More of a mountain bike bring your own tent style ride as they were off to Fort William. All I knew was we were into the teeth of the wind again and it was such hard work. We passed fields with cows in where a calf was suckling.

Suckling calf

They all marvelled at the viaduct off to our right, which is where we were headed but they were not. A right turn took us downhill out of the wind and on to the Culloden railway viaduct. Richard originally thought that this was the Harry Potter bridge from the second film. Granted it looks like it but that is on the West Highland railway, the Glenfinnan Viaduct.

: Culloden viaduct

There is a short climb after this beauty up towards the main road. My right knee pain came back to haunt me here but I climbed it gradually and on to the T junction at the top at Newlands. Turning left onto the main road we passed the Culloden battlefield abut were instantly back into that horrendous wind again. I tried to tag onto a group that came passed me but I had to rest my knee and so toughed out the wind as the road took us down to Inverness.

Yet again on the main road into Inverness every light was red that didn’t help my cause. I needed to stop and rest but we were headed for the feed station at the Scout field. I made it there and parked my bike and bought another hot coffee before tackling the food on offer. A lady was handing out freshly cut pineapple again and as she spoke I said “now with an accent like that I have to say thank you to you.” She was momentarily stunned but it was the lady who found my phone on the Glenshee. We both smiled as I gave her a proper thank you hug.

I then took my sandwiches, yoghurt and treats and found a bench to sit down on. I really enjoyed it but sat there on my own and thought about 12 months ago being absolutely drained and receiving my son Edward’s message that meant so much to me then. I was in a much better place today but didn’t want to hang around as the wind was gale force.

Leaving the field again on my own we passed through the built up area and stopped at the lights again to take this picture of the local church before descending into Inverness itself passed the castle and out of the city on towards Dingwall.

Inverness

The road follows the shores of the Beauly Firth over which there was a magnificent rainbow. I joined up with 2 other riders to share the load on this section. The road follows the shores inland before swinging north to Dingwall.

Rainbow at Inverness

We seemed to work quite well until one rode off into the sunset. Cheers mate. I agreed to work with the other guy but it seemed as though he couldn’t keep the pace as I dropped him innocently. I let him catch up and then explained I was going to stop in a shop shortly. I decided to pay homage to the impromptu stop last year with Rob Steele and Paul Bryant.

On the front of the 3 along the Beauly Firth

As I crossed the bridge at the Muir of Ord I saw the petrol station and dutifully popped in and bought two cans of Coke and some chocolate to see me to the end. The Coke at the feed station would be double the price!

Paying homage

Rob and Paul laughed when I told them🤣 Anyway I downed the Coke with gusto and set off on my own. The road passes through villages and soon you turn right onto the main road into Dingwall. However as we entered the town we immediately turned left up a climb through a housing estate. I rode up it nicely before turning right on to the road to the splash and dash feed stop.

Happy on my own

It’s a short hop along a road high above the Cromarty Firth to the beauty spot where the feed was but as we started to leave the estate I heard a car blaring his horn. Behind me was a Spanish rider doing nothing wrong. What an idiot and he then turned off the road. Unbelievable.

I turned into the feed station grabbed some Haribos and drank my can of Coke that I had left. I must have been travelling well as the broom wagon wasn’t there today, but then he was busy elsewhere.

Going well

As I left and was going to enjoy the next part. It is a long flat road traversing the top of the hill. I flew last year but even more so today with a slight tailwind. I was pushing 35mph as I glided along effortlessly. I was loving it. I popped out of the road onto the road that would take us to Bonar Bridge but I had a good 20 or so miles to do. As I took the junction a lorry was coming from my right and it was RAB transport lorry who tooted at me as it went past.

I found myself on my own as usual and knew one of the last climbs of the day was coming. You descend down the road that curves to a bridge that then rises up on the other side. A little poke that you don’t want with 110 miles or so in the legs.

: The bridge

: Approaching the bridge

I didn’t know the cameraman was in the trees here. I took on the climb and spun it out. I was amazed by the toadstools growing on the verge under the conifers. I had never seen so many all flat tops scarlet red in colour. I wouldn’t be eating them.

As I rolled out at the top of the climb, my Spanish friend came passed me and asked how much more did the climb go on for. I said about 6 miles pointing to where we were going. It’s not all climbing but in the main uphill.

Though starting to tire I was still enjoying my ride. The wind was blowing strongly up here again and to pass the time as the roads snaked along, for some reason I started to change the words of the poem Vitai Lampada by Sir Henry Newbolt. This is the original poem’s first verse:

There’s a breathless hush in the Close tonight —

Ten to make and the match to win —

A bumping pitch and a blinding light,

An hour to play and the last man in.

And it’s not for the sake of a ribboned coat,

Or the selfish hope of a season’s fame,

But his Captain’s hand on his shoulder smote —

‘Play up! play up! and play the game!’

My version reads:

There’s a breathless hush in the Bubble tonight —

One hundred to go and the end in sight–

A bumpy road and a blowing wind,

A day to ride and a last stage grind.

And it’s not for the sake of a ribboned medal,

Or the selfish hope of cycling fame,

But the Trusty steed to give one last pedal —

‘Pedal on! Pedal on! To finish is the aim!’

With apologies to Henry Newbolt, it sounded quite good anyway. The cricket analogy refers to my old school and the Close being the main sports field.

The road starts the last climb of the day to Struie Hill. I climbed the first part with ease before seeing the view out to the Dornoch Firth.

: Going well

: View behind at Alness taking a break from pogetry

: Last climbing to Bonar Bridge

: Lovely view

As I came round a slight bend I saw Sue Williams from earlier with two riders at the side of the road. I checked they were ok before moving on to the viewing point where as I remembered from last year, the view to Bonar Bridge was stunning even if not as sunny.

: Bonar Bridge from Struie Hill

I didn’t experience the midges this year but was keen to get to camp. I took the downhill with some abandon but had forgotten about the sharp bend at the bottom and nearly came a cropper.

A little more prudent I rode along the shoreline and was passed by around 15 expensive sports cars like Maseratis. A bit random this far North I thought as I passed the third and final old AA box at Ardgay.

Ardgay AA Box

Confidence had returned and any semblance of I don’t want to do this had left me as I cycled through Ardgay itself with its memorial statue standing proud and these cows in the field.

Cows near Bonar Bridge

The road curves to the right to the bridge itself and provides the view back to Struie Hill.

: Into Bonar Bridge

: Back to Struie Hill

At the T junction after the bridge I turned left and a lady said “Well done, nearly there.” “Thanks” I replied and rode the last mile or so into camp. I was so happy to have completed today.

The bonus was I was around 2 hours quicker time wise than last year and so had more time to shower and get everything ready for tomorrow. Also as I got to camp the heavens opened Andy I was glad I wasn’t out in that leave alone the camp was engulfed in a real wind storm that prevailed throughout the night.

I went and saw Stuart in the medics tent to say I’d done the Lecht and I saw Al talking to some police officers. Apparently one rider was blown by the wind into a passing car. Nasty.

I met Richard and the others after they had turned up also. We discussed the day and Richard said we’ll done for doing the Lecht. I shaved 5 minutes off my time. I looked behind me and saw Chris Weights and went to speak to him briefly and noticed he was with someone. I thought I knew who it was but checked all the same. It was Hayley Parker and everything slotted into place as to who had trained her to be so good.

At dinner I bought another Guinness and was charged £5 for the can. You what? What a rip off that was later confirmed the bar was milking us big time. At the briefing the main man attending from Deloitte said we could all have a beer or drink on Deloitte from the bar. Julian Mack said “come on let’s drink the bar dry.” Anyway about 10mins after the end I went to the bar to be told the money had run out. Pardon? You”be sold 800 drinks in 10 minutes. “Oh sod you” I said and walked off to my tent.

I was ready for the last day but how much sleep I was going to get was another matter. I doubt many would sleep well tonight, it was a ferocious gale as I turned my light off and would be throughout the night.

Day Nine Kyle of Sutherland to John o Groats 104 miles and 4541ft of climbing.

It was a rotten night”s sleep with the wind, made worse that we were awake earlier today as we needed to ensure we got our arranged travel from John o Groats. As I rose from my tent I must have been late. Everywhere was heaving with riders.

Still I made my way to breakfast and met Richard. I decided to make sandwiches again but today there wasn’t any jam. What no jam! I had to have marmalade instead and I felt like Paddington bear.

The wind was blowing a hooley to say the least as we were set off in our groups. It was pitch black as we made our way along with an incessant flash of red lights in front of me. It is about 3 miles to the turn we take to Lairg the next village come town, but it was hard work all the same to get to the turn.

I tried to find a group to ride with. It would be important in this wind as it would be for around 25 miles pretty much in our faces. As were turned off I found a group of 4 who were travelling well and hopped on to pull me up the Shin Valley through the wooded section. We passed so many riders and I think I saw Jo Robertson on my left.

The sad part was I couldn’t keep up the pace. Perhaps yesterday’s effort was taking its toll and I seemed to lose contact. I really felt the wind now being on my own despite the shelter of the trees. I realised this would be a problem after Lairg as we are totally exposed with little shelter.

It was still dark as I got to the end of the initial road and turned right over the bridge to Lairg itself. The wind was already a crosswind now as the bridge took you eastwards before it swung left and then….good luck. Ferocious, in your face does not do it justice. On our left was Loch Shin as the road hugged the shoreline and so there was little protection.

: Lairg

: Lairg bridge

: Lairg

Progress was slow as I saw my original group riding off into the distance. I was thankful it wasn’t raining. Gusts of up to 50mph were making every turn of the pedal a chore. If I thought yesterday was bad then this was off the charts. Our road was beside a river that flowed to the Loch.

River to Loch Lairg

The single track “A” road is pretty much straight but the trees to offer any protection were too far away and it was a case of head down, think of anything other than pedalling. Lose yourself as it were as this was a true battle. We had a strong wind last year but this was gruesome. I found myself trying to catch a group in front but never got close but a group behind couldn’t catch me either. Being piggy in the middle do I stick or twist?

Battling on my own

The event photographer came passed but I suppose one thing the wind did was to take your mind off the fact that we were going uphill albeit gradually and had been since the turn for Lairg. I was hoping and praying for the change in direction that I knew was coming. It is slight but would mean a slight respite as the wind would come from your side.

After an eternity I felt the change in wind direction as we took a more north north easterly direction towards Altanharra and the first feed station. This did not mean our problems were over. The road makes its way to the Crask Inn, that is so remote.

Crask Inn in the middle of nowhere

The problem now was the road passed through some forest plantations and the trees on our left had gaps every so often and the wind burst through these with such force the gust was blowing me sideways.

As I crested one hill I passed Coralie who was like others struggling along. I just wanted to get to the top of one hummock as I knew the road took a rightish turn and you descend rapidly with the Strathnaver Valley in the distance. It was absolutely brilliant last year since the turn gave a us a superb tailwind.

I arrived at the top of the hummock and took a picture of the impending 40mph downhill run thankful that I could enjoy the respite.

onwards to Altanharra

I was disappointed that the overcast conditions didn’t do the view justice, although the sun was trying to break through the clouds that gave the light a eerie whispy feel to it. I felt I was passing through those foggy Arthurian legend scenes we’ve seen on television. However I just let my bike run at some speed downhill sweeping round a left turn, plunging onwards to the straighter section that takes you to Altanharra. Even if you pedal the last couple of miles to the feed, that descent is superb enhanced by the tailwind and just reward for your hard work or should I say slog. You can see the whole road laid out for a couple of miles. It is just you and the road , ime to enjoy and feel exhilarating just briefly before a well earned rest and food at the feed station.

: Sun and mountain

: Strathnaver Loch in the distance

: Altanharra pit stop

I realised I hadn’t packed any cash so couldn’t buy a coffee in the pub/hotel but the 2 hot cross buns went down a treat. I didn’t stop long as I wanted to get on.

The road now takes you through the Strathnaver Valley but now hugs the shores of Loch Naver. Every inlet and hummock is used and with recently laid tarmac it was a joy and the wind was behind you caressing you along rather than gusting. Superb to make progress like this. The views were stunning in the light.

Loch Naver, beautiful

As I rode along I thought how lucky I was in that at that moment of light, water lapping the shore and birdsong I was the only one there. Obviously I was wrong when I saw the event photographs. I always find one that I really like and though I thought I was on my own, I wasn’t and this encapsulates my solitude in a beautiful part of the country.

Solitude

Eventually the Loch ends and you follow the road through small fields with hamlets as the hills on both sides start to funnel you to a road junction. Last year there were plenty of cows around but not this year. After riding for so long my knee started to play up also.

A few stronger riders started to pass me as I laboured up a short hill. The bonus at the top in a lay-by was big Al and his medic car. No I didn’t need help but Al had a tuck shop with him. He was offering all sorts to riders. I said “Hi”to him and grabbed a packet of Skittles for sugar and set off again. Turning right at the junction and heading for Bettyhill we passed this sign.

55 to go

So 55 to go but Bettyhill signifies the turn eastwards along the north coast and a road that has plenty of ups and downs. With tired legs this would be fun. Before this we crossed the valley at Bettyhill where you climb up out of the village with houses on one side but lovely views to the sea on the other.

: Bettyhill and the north coast

: Bettyhill

As I climbed up, Sven came passed me. You recognise his distinctive helmet. He made it look easy. I was just hanging on really, I just wanted to finish. I think Day 6 had taken more out of me than I thought. The climbs were eked out as best I could, with the descents my reward.

On one climb I felt a gentle push on my back with “Ok mate?” It was Richard passing me. I was finding it tough, he said “No it’s the best bit.” He carried on saying see you at the feed station that was coming at Reay golf course. All I thought was it was, each mile was a mile nearer. My day was made when I saw at the side of the road several of these beauties.

Highland beauty

I got to the feed station where there was no bike rack or gazebos and the vans parked up in a line. The wind was too strong and the vans acted as a wind break. I saw the Deloitte man and thanked him for the offer of a pint but told him what the bar people had said. He was not too pleased. Nathan Robertson was at the feed too and wished me luck for the last bit. Before leaving, I swapped my gilet round with my 2019 RAB jersey so I’d have it one full show as I crossed the line.

Once you have left the feed station the roads are straight and not too taxing since we had turned off the coast road. With the wind behind me I could motor along at a fair lick. I was able to maintain my speed for some considerable time.

: Reay pitstop at the golf course

: Long straight roads to JoG

We arrived at Thurso the last town before JoG. I got through it but remember the last climb of the ride up through some houses. I was climbing it in my own way and taking the line that would take me past the line of parked cars. I heard chatting getting closer and closer behind me. As I approached the cars a rider passed me on the right without calling. However I was alarmed at the guy who passed me on my inside without any call and swerved in front of me to pass the cars. I called out to him “ If you are going to pass me on the inside please tell me!” His mate said to him “He’s got a point!” I didn’t want any accidents this late into the ride.

The road is straight for 1/2 mile before turning left and I heard a lady behind me and it was Sue Williams from the previous day. She was travelling well as we started the final run to JoG. You can see Dunnet Head out to the left the most northerly mainland point of the UK and the Orkneys in the distance. I knew it was done.

: Orkneys

: RAB jersey out

: Last bit

The last few miles flew by as I turned left and right at right angles to find the last road in. It is a friendly downhill past cows in a field and as I gathered speed to the finish I couldn’t believe a pedestrian who wanted to cross the road from my right without looking. I shouted big time at him as I took the last right turn to the finish.

: JoG cows

Sadly there wasn’t a finishing arch owing to the wind but speed merchant Richard captured my finish where I collected my medal and met Nathan Robertson again.

It was then time to get the obligatory photo at the sign.

: Done it again

: Made it again

: Medal

So I completed LEJOG for a second time within the rules of RAB. I still have a sense of guilt as I had to miss a stage but it was through exceptional circumstances. I am recorded as a finisher and that is all that counts.

The route

Einstein said the definition of insanity is doing something over and over again expecting different results. Well I knew what the result would or should be but it is the journey and experience in between the start and finish that is different. With determination training and the right support anyone can achieve this.

I do know that having done it twice I have to go back for the commemorative jersey so I am on RAB 2020. There are so many I need to thank here for their support and having to put up with my training for the event but to list them here would take too long.

Whilst I thank all my family for their support there are 3 though that I need to mention without whom I perhaps would not have made it to the sign. Thank you Al Moore for your humour, Stuart Henderson for your sensible advice and belief and most importantly to David Cullingford for your unstinting support on Day6 to see me home.

Roll on RAB 2020.

Is it Madness? Ride Across Britain 2019 – Part Two

2 Replies

At Milnthorpe I said my goodbyes to Sven Nick and Laura. Not that we were parting there but knew we would break up on the climb. It is 8 miles long and we rode at different levels but I knew that Diane would be waiting for me at the top and I would spend time with her. After my traumas I was really looking forward to seeing her and would boost my morale further.

We set off initially uphill before the road traverses a valley on the way to Kendal. At one point we encountered a hedge cutting tractor and as I recall there were a lot of hedges being cut en route or had been. This is particularly troublesome for riders, I’d had enough punctures for one trip already.

: Sedgwick

: Natland

We quickly passed through small villages to get to Kendal, one of the gateways to the Lake District, Sedgwick had a typical English cricket pitch in the grounds of a Manor House. I warned the others of Kendal as it would be busy with traffic.

Sure enough we rode through Kendal where there was plenty of traffic and you had to take care before you descended out of the town and on to the A6. Shap Fell as a climb starts not long after you join the road. It isn’t particularly difficult as lorries need to go up it but it just rises and keeps going albeit there is the odd short downhill section as you cross the Valley. The last bit is just a sit in and grind for a mile or so.

As we rode out of town we were drawn to the skies on our left where two Typhoon Euro fighter jets were flying on a sortie. Nick said he would struggle up the climb but Sven set an unbelievable tempo and accelerated away. Laura followed but I just sat in took my gear and spun it all out. As I took one photo a message came through from Thor to say they were at Milnthorpe and halfway. I replied with halfway up Shap Fell.😀👍

: Into Kendal

: Kendal

: Views from the road up Shap

As I spun out the climb I just looked around and kept Laura in view. I knew that I’d be doing ok if I did that. I found the climb so much better this year. I’m not sure why but soon I rounded the long corner to descend and take on the last section to the top. You take as much speed as you can to start the climb and settle in. You can see the road hugging the hill all the way to the top where periodically you could also see the flashing lights of the event photographer to capture your pain. I noticed I was catching Laura so knew I’d paced myself up the climb very well.

Then I noticed Diane driving down the hill so I waved before passing Laura as I continued up the long drag. As I felt good I carried on. Diane passed me tooting her horn as I accelerated towards the top. Then as I approached a lay-by on the left I saw big Al and shouted “Alan, Alan, Al, Al” to him he smiled and took photos of me that he gave me later, with one suitably doctored that I creased up with when I saw it.

: Climbing Shap Fell

: The doctored Photo

I carried on up the final slope passed the usual “Shut up Legs” flag to the lay-by at the top where Diane was waiting with her Mum. I saw Sven saying to him Laura was coming but I didn’t know where Nick was.

: The top of Shap

: Nearly there

I stopped to see Diane and was dying for a sugary coke or something. She had still lemonade. That would do. We chatted away for a bit before she wanted to go on to her hotel. By now, though sunny the wind was up. Sven and Laura saw me and said they were leaving. “ Hold on I said “give me 2 minutes to put my jacket on and I’ll be there”. I might as well ride on with them.

Saying goodbye to Diane we were soon off on the fast descent off Shap. The road surface wasn’t bad and I shaved my pace on the slight S bend curve towards the bottom and despite the wind was a brilliant downhill. Diane came passed as we hit the valley floor and the road that runs parallel to the M6.

We hooked up with some other riders and rode along at a pretty brisk pace before we got to the village of Shap and the splash and dash feed station. It supplied sugary sweets and drink to see you to the end of the stage. I filled up with squash ate some Haribo and waited for the other two. I wanted to get on.

As we left again, the children of the local Primary were out in their playground cheering us as we set off. We waved back at them and then we joined the group of 8 guys again and formed a nice group to motor along the road. I was riding next to a Scottish chap who told me the guy on the front of the ride coincided with his 25th wedding anniversary. Boy I think he needs a good pay back somewhere or he’s got a very understanding wife. As it turned out it was Nigel Bush who I’d met on the Taunton Flyer when he rode with Anthony Rees. I hadn’t seen him all ride but I would be seeing quite a lot of him in the last few days.

The miles were covered quickly as a group but sadly we seemed to break up when we got to Penrith as we progressed through the town. There is a climb out of it that is the sort when I have ridden to a pace that really drains me and I have to take stock for awhile. Sven, Laura and I dropped off the group and would ride together. Penrith signified the end of stage last year but we had another 10-15miles to go yet.

Sven set the pace but I was conscious that Laura was slowing slightly. It had been a long trying day and we were getting tired. The wind had returned and the road was more exposed. I felt guilty not perhaps taking my turn on the front but called Sven a couple of times to slow to ensure Laura was with us.

I kept the wheels turning and thinking that I would be in at a reasonable time today. We passed an interesting line of trees I thought and signs to a brilliantly named village called Unthank. What a great place that is I thought, just one of those quirky English names.

Trees at Low Hesket

Soon we turned left and I thought great nearly at base camp. It had been a long slog on the road from Penrith. However there was an initial drag climb and the single track road seemed to be like the M25 with all sorts of traffic. On cresting the top where I was now bringing up the rear we descended to a sweeping curve at the bottom that took us to an immediate steep climb. You what! We had ridden around 114 miles and now you give us this little gem. I really wanted to “Unthank” Andy Cook at that moment. Engaging the granny it took an eternity to climb but at the top to the right was the lovely Plough Inn I could have stopped right there for awhile and on the left the beautifully named church St Cuthbert Without at Wreay.

St Cuthbert Without

Once through the village we had a thunderous straight, false flat descent under the M6 and boy did Sven and I let ourselves go. We made a right turn to see the camp on our right. Sven went to turn in but I noticed Laura was behind some way. I waited for her. I couldn’t cross the line without her since we had just about ridden the whole stage with her. We crossed the line together and gave each other a grateful hug and I shook Sven’s hand for such a good ride.

I went to get my tent and was number 46. Much better since they are allocated on a first come first served basis. The first 30 for purple my colour were reserved for Team Vodafone so I felt pretty good. It meant I could get soup to warm me up get a good physio time rather than a long queue and a decent shower as I was early into camp.

Whilst getting my soup I saw Nigel Bush again and so sat with his crew again and one guy Tony Long who I discovered was a former naval officer. I took a photo and sent it to Edward my son who is now a naval officer. He told me to say “Well done shippers” to him. Tony chuckled at that; just naval jackspeak! I then saw the bar and Richard. Yep I was going to have a beer or two after today. I also bumped into Kevin Rainsbury who I’d met on the Tour of Wessex. He’s a quick rider and he said to me “ Christ if you are in Martin I must have been slow!” Cheers Kev 🤣🤣🤣

: Richard and the bar

: Hello shippers

I was feeling much better in myself. The physio treated me to some pleasurable pain for my knee and at dinner Jo Robertson said it was good to see I had my mojo back. After dinner, that I ate heartily since it was Cumberland sausage night again😀👍 I went to my tent happy. I’d had a good day and perhaps my luck had now changed. I had four days to go but 2 tough ones to negotiate but I was much happier in myself as I prepared for tomorrow, wrote my thoughts down and settled in for the night. What could go wrong?

Day Six Carlisle to Edinburgh 105 miles and 4,127ft of climbing

As I look back I forgot to check the weather for the day but Andy Cook the route organiser at the briefing had advised “The weather will be good in the morning with rain from lunchtime onwards”. With these words ringing in my ears I awoke at 4.30 bolt upright and couldn’t get back to sleep. How Andy’s advice would comeback to haunt me.

I dressed quickly and did the usual prep to pack my bag and prepare for breakfast. I was really annoyed that I had wanted squash for my drinks bottles but they had run out. Come on 🤬 I cannot drink High 5 energy drinks all the time. Guess what the wake up music was as well! Off to Scotland today so you’ve guessed it The Proclaimers and 500 miles came on 🤪

Anyway I went to breakfast and treated myself to a coffee from the coffee man and ate as much as I could though for some reason I could never eat much for breakfast, at the feed stations or dinner.

I went back to my tent after and felt a distinct chill in the air so decided to put my light wind jacket on. I also felt a queasiness in the stomach before I went to get my bike that I had to address. I cannot explain why but I hadn’t agreed to meet the others or contacted them and so unless I saw them I was on my own. I didn’t mind that as I generally do ride solo but didn’t want them to think anything less of me for it, besides I wanted to get out early today.

As I set off to get my bike there was a lovely sunrise. In the malaise of tiredness and thinking what I needed to do I had forgotten the old saying about red skies but hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Sunrise over camp

I think I saw Laura set off in the group before me but couldn’t be certain and after the reminder briefing from Andy Cook, I set my Garmin going and set off.

Immediately we crossed a main road at a crossroads but we had a long straight road before the descent into Carlisle. I was glad of my decision to put my jacket on as it was a bit nippy to say the least.

I entered Carlisle and just found the odd cyclist to ride with. I greeted everyone out walking with “Good morning” and got a nice reply. As I got to the centre of Carlisle I saw the 3 riders with the same “Big Wipes” jerseys. They were funny guys all ride when you passed them. Even early in the morning there was a lot of traffic about and we were queuing at lights to cross main city roads. It just seemed all lights were red for me this morning. The lights did allow me to take a picture of a branch of my former employer.

All the while my stomach didn’t feel right with pains but I felt ok to ride on and we passed the castle and onwards towards the worst part of the whole 980 miles.

Carlisle castle

The wind had got stronger and the first droplets of rain had started; it wasn’t even lunchtime. I remembered one chap calling into a charity shop in Ross on Wye for some jumpers as it was cold. Shops weren’t open yet but perhaps they should have been, I wasn’t happy with the rain starting.

You take a right turn after a retail park where I saw a Travelodge and thought that was where Diane was staying, and on to a dull road with hedges on one side and the M6 on your right. I sat in on the wheels of a group of 4 who were travelling at a good pace quite happy to shelter from the wind. We were making good progress and felt guilty being on the back especially as the guy in front kept checking on me.

After a while and with the rain now increasing they started to slow. I passed up to the front saying I’ll do a turn and tapped out a good 20mph, head down into a wind and felt good. I glanced back and found I’d dropped the group or they had stopped. I carried on and passed the Daley boys from Canada again and said “Hi” to them.

After a short while you come across the Scottish border and as usual there was a melee for the photo. I was more interested in getting it done quickly and get on my way again.

Scotland

I was getting cold whilst waiting but noticed Nigel Bush and the crew from yesterday lingering. Ah I thought let’s get on their train again, just strength in numbers on a day like this. I said “Morning” and geared up to set off with them.

Hotel in Gretna

There is a small climb through Gretna that you don’t want when cold and having stopped but I just got on with it. It was good to tap out a good speed but I knew I wasn’t quite on it today. I could keep up but exerting myself a bit to stay there. As we went along a straight road Richard came speeding passed in his new Rapha kit. Still burning the stages up he was and would continue to do so, the exuberance of youth!

Long straight and dropped

I lost touch with Nigel’s group and carried on solo but joined up with another pretty large group. I joined for shelter and we all seemed quite happy pulling each other along through the great named Ecclefechan. Two women on the front turned right and we dutifully followed but they were looking for the Ladies and so it was a quick about turn to rejoin the route. That caused some merriment but please tell other riders where you are going before moving.

Once through Ecclefechan it was on to Lockerbie and I knew the feed station would be a little further on at a lorry stop. However as I glanced left I saw the field of last year’s feed station and the white building where Robin I were captured by the event photographer. It was also the feed with that warm sausage roll. What a boon that was and I hoped they had that today.

: Feed station from last year

: Lockerbie church

: Another off the main road

As we started a longish straight there was the feed station on the right. I entered it and parked my bike up. I felt quite sick and looked for the coffee van for a warm drink but couldn’t find it. I queued up for food but asked “where was the hot sausage roll”? “Oh yes, I remember them I’m glad you said that” as she was glad I confirmed with her colleague of these delicious snacks last year. He couldn’t remember them. I was so deflated that on a really cold day there was nothing to warm you up.

I started chatting to some guys whilst eating and feeling very wet when I was approached by a lady TV reporter and cameraman and interviewed for ITV border television as to why I was riding and what charity I was riding for. That is another story but in short you can read this article if you don’t know my story.

https://www.bhf.org.uk/informationsupport/heart-matters-magazine/my-story/martin-woolcott

On finishing I said to her you need to interview that chap there if you want a nice story. I was pointing to one of the Daley brothers. He was quite identifiable with his long dark hair and off she went. I then thought of the mystery donor to my sponsor page. Someone who I cannot identify donated £130 to my BHF fundraising page. If you are reading this “Thank you very much.”

I suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore and offered my crisps to Andy Elliott who I saw as I went to get my bike to set off. He didn’t want them.

I saw Nigel and his crew again were leaving so hurried over. I was determined to ride and keep with them since we were now going to ride the worst bit of the whole ride, a long twenty odd mile section of relentless grind; in the main a slight uphill, rough surface, bland scenery, drone of traffic noise of the upgraded road to our right and hedgerows to our left. You have to ride it, there is no getting away from it but today was exasperated by the weather conditions, strong winds and incessant rain made the roads extremely wet.

We became a group of some twenty riders riding 2 abreast and making good progress. I was next to Geoff on my right and as I write I can’t remember our conversation but was impressed with his speaker blaring out a myriad of tunes from the 80’s as we rode along. I hadn’t heard “The Crown” by Gary Byrd and the GB Experience from 1983 in some considerable time I can say. As we went along I was getting concerned for the spray that was coming off the guy in front. I don’t know what tyres he was using and I’ve been sprayed before but this was something else. Being boxed in I couldn’t get away and I was now totally soaked. Not good in this wind as well. I just tried to offset my position so I wasn’t directly behind.

Nigel caught a puncture and we all waited for him in a driveway. We were a team working together so it was only right but this made us even more cold, well me anyway. Whilst we waited a train passed on its way north to Glasgow.

Waiting for Nigel, Coralie at the front with shippers at the back

The train to Glasgow

On the regroup I found myself riding with Coralie on my right. We had many a chat on the WhatsApp Tour of Wessex but had never actually met. So it was good to finally put that to bed as it were. I cannot recall how we split but in a change somehow I found myself on the outside and Geoff and his music to my 11 o clock in our group. On my inside now was Robert Collingborne who had been spraying me earlier. I started chatting to him but just thankful I was now not getting any wetter. I was also getting a bit of protection from the wind angle too but was feeling wet and cold still.

I was looking down in the main concentrating on the wheel in front and I was so glad I did. I happened to notice Geoff just move back towards his left, nothing bad just a typical line. However what happened next nearly cost me my ride. Robert to my inside was riding a little to close to Geoff’s wheels and as Geoff came across, Robert’s clipped his sending him crashing towards me.”Oh god no” I was thinking and in a split second angled my front wheels towards the right so as his momentum from falling would push me that way, rather than knock me off onto my right hip and pelvis that has seen its fair share of injuries. As Robert crashed to the floor I free wheeled in shock to the other side of the road and looked back to see Robert now prone on the floor.

I moved back over to the correct side of the road and then saw 2 HGV’s coming down the road. Waving to warn them as Robert was in the middle of the road I then thought how lucky I had been, in the event maybe 20 seconds later and I might have been ploughing into their front.

In the aftermath of the crash and seeing that we had enough riders around to help it was agreed that the majority would cycle on, not before I found my Oakleys that I mislaid somewhere. I was now extremely wet and cold and felt that by moving I could warm myself up.

So I set off but sadly on my own to continue the long trudge up this road. Still raining, still windy, I felt colder and increasingly drenched. It was a lonely slog with the odd rider going passed me. I had no protection from the elements. I had to take my glasses off to help see as they were getting plenty of raindrops on them.

I remembered there was a cycle path you could use eventually. I decided to take this path for a bit as last year people said it wasn’t too bad. It also provided a respite from the road surface. I carried on and it was marginally better but made me concentrate as it was a narrower than the road. My stomach started hurting again. I didn’t have anything to take and thought I’d better not eat or drink not that I felt like it. They say it’s “grim up North” well this was grimmer than grim. I was having the day from hell.

On the cycle path

After an eternity and with the discomfort in my stomach increasing I finally approached a roundabout that signified Crawford and the services. Ah I thought we’ll turn off this road shortly. How wrong I was. I turned off the roundabout and felt the urge to be sick. I pulled over in a lay-by in front of a line of large conifers and spat out whatever was in my mouth. A rider Anthony Cox stopped and asked if I was ok. No I replied I want to be sick. Then all of a sudden I heaved up all the coffee from this morning and my breakfast.

In a way I felt instantly better but I was frozen and wet through. Anthony said there you go and set off before making sure I was ok. I gingerly started off again and felt queasy and slowly turned my pedals. How I kept going I don’t know. Being sick and feeling cold with the odd shiver thrown in I was in a bad way. I thought if I can get to the feed station I’d be ok. I knew it would be around 10 miles further on from last year’s spot.

On my right I heard “hop on Martin” it was Andy Elliott and the SW Rabbing boys. I said “I can’t I’m ill.” I told Andrew I’d just coughed my guts up, as they went passed. I was struggling and in a bad way. I just focused on a point in front and pedalled to it slowly and set a new point when I passed it. I remember Diane passing me as I wanted to meet her at the feed station. One positive was that we had turned slightly and the wind was not into your face so much more to my left side.

Totally soaked

With a rider and soaked

The scenery was better but it was such an effort to keep going. So many riders now started to pass me I was wondering if I might have to abandon the stage I was so cold. Then I remembered “Rest if you must but don’t you quit” from my motivational poem. I turned off for Thankerton and knew the feed station wasn’t too far but had a climb to get to it. There was a slight downhill to the river Clyde where we crossed the valley floor and turned left. This was the start of the gradual climb to Quothquan where feed was. It was woodland to your right and the Clyde to your left. I just sat down and spun the best I could. I saw Diane coming down the hill and waved as best I could.

I got to the level of the top and was able to coast to the village hall and the feed station. As I braked the medical support car pulled up. I stopped and saw Stuart Henderson get out, he is one of the medics. He saw me struggling to get off my bike, summoned a mechanic to get my bike and immediately grabbed me and walked me straight into the medical area at the back of the hall. Promptly, took all my top half clothing off and wrapped a tin foil cape over me and 3 blankets. One of the other medics sat me down and took my temperature. It was 34.6 degrees, normal temperature is 37. I started shivering randomly and uncontrollably, I was hypothermic.

Andy and the boys saw me and later said I looked grey. I was given a cup of tea to warm me up. It seemed to do the trick so I asked “could I have another?” It seemed they were gold dust. I was given a black one this time. I sat there with all my blankets and saw a number of cyclists come in to warm up and grab some medical attention, Laura and Claire Wallace that I could name as I look back. Another rider came in citing the same problems of sickness and cold and sat next to me. I would not be allowed to leave until my body temperature was back to normal. I sat there just hoping I could carry on.

I must have been sat for an hour and half when Stuart said “come on Martin if you want to get going don’t fall asleep.” They took my temperature and it was ok, so they gaffa taped the tin foil to me to keep me warm and protect me from the wind, then I put my wet tops back on. I knew Diane was around so could bail if needed. I didn’t feel brilliant at all.

I found my bike around the back of the hall and set off gingerly. Instantly I wondered if I’d made the right decision. Every pedal stroke was difficult, no energy, my knee was hurting, I was still cold and my mind was not in a good place. I went up a slight incline and everything just hurt. It took all I had to get up the hill and it wasn’t that bad. Cresting it I said to myself find Diane and get to camp.

As it was I had no idea where she was. My app on my phone had her location an hour ago and no signal to phone her, I had to carry on. I turned left on to the Biggar road and trudged on. As I cycled along I don’t know what I looked like but a rider passed me and said “are you ok?” “ No I’m struggling” was my reply. Instantly I saw him slow and pull along side me. Asking what was wrong I explained what had happened to me. In a moment that really defines the bubble, he gave up his ride whatever he was on and then stayed all the way with me for 30 miles to basecamp.

Anyone who knows me knows I have a real complex about anyone putting themselves out for my benefit as though I don’t deserve it. To this day I am truly grateful for his unwavering kindness that day. He said he his name was David. All the way he kept talking to me or asking questions, making me concentrate on things other than cycling and the job in hand.

I knew the road was quite straightforward across the Lowlands to Livingston but with David as company it was a godsend. I kept saying thank you to him as if he hadn’t of been there I would have stopped and I couldn’t live with myself if I had. The road is kind to you and if by magic the rain and wind had stopped and the sun was trying to win the day. I remembered the splash and dash stop from last year as we passed it before a descent in trees after Woolfords that takes you towards Livingston.

These photos are from last year as I could not take any in my wet and cold condition.

: Plain at Thankerton

: Other side of the plain

: Sitting cows

: West Lothian

As you approach a junction the route takes you on a cycle path through the Sky TV customer service centre estate and on to the busy roundabouts above the M8. I was still slow but David needed a break if you catch my drift. “Go on and I’ll catch you up” he said. I did see where he was headed and smiled and thought no not the local cemetery.

I rode on and round another roundabout to slowly climb to another and turn onto the long straight road towards Broxburn. It was where I had an absolute field day pulling a 20 man train last year. Oh how 12 months later I was struggling. I was able to increase my speed and my shadow now rejoined me. I just remembered the little climb after the lights at Broxburn that was to come. We made another left turn and onto the false flat descent into Broxburn avoiding the traffic calming measures and down to the lights. I advised David and a lady who’d joined us to get in a low gear as we approached the lights.

Turning left we progressed up the climb that again was easier than I recall but I hadn’t been driving a speed like last year. Up we went holding up traffic as the road curved one way and then back again. I felt better at the top as the road crossed a plateau where it was rude not to stop to take in the views across the Forth. The sun was now dominating the sky in the late afternoon and the bridges looked in fine fettle for tomorrow’s ride.

: The three bridges

: Towards the Highlands

It was a short hop to a junction to turn right and travel a main road for a mile before David and I turned left for the Hopetoun Estate and basecamp. One scary moment as we turned left off the short downhill to meet a car travelling too fast for the single track road but all was good. I remember the road affectionately as Robin, Richard and I took it with relish last year leading the Chain Gangstas into camp. Today more circumspect but on crossing the line I was extremely emotional and nearly crying in gratitude for David’s support as without it I don’t know what would have happened.

David and me at the finish

Edinburgh camp

I went to the timing tent to pick up our timing chit to enable me to find David’s full name so here, I thank you again David Cullingford.

I went and got my tent number and thankfully my bag was carried by one of the crew to it for me, I was shattered. I quickly got my wet clothes off and put my warm clothes on . Being late I thought I’d go to the medics first, then physio and dinner. I’d shower after dinner and go to bed ready for the morning. As I left I saw Claire my first night neighbour and explained what had happened to me.

At the medics I was checked over and they said I was ok. I had a good physio session where in the waiting queue it was like musical chairs, before finding the others and eating as much as I could; Turkey roll mops tonight and a raspberry and chocolate cake for dessert. They all said I looked better; Andy said he wanted a photo of me in the feed station but thought I’d be upset. Perhaps I would have been but it would have been ok. I felt better as I explained what had happened. The briefing followed and as I needed a shower said I’d leave and meet in the morning.

As I left the dinner tent, the temperature had dropped and I started to shiver again. I had to stand still for a moment but as I got going again I was shivering and so cold. On my left in the fading light I saw Al Moore and asked if the medics tent was still open. He said yes it was. He then walked with me to the tent.

Stuart the medic was there and Al handed me over. Stuart asked what was up. I explained I’d gone all cold again. He checked me over and then I started shivering again. He explained my core temperature was low and it needed to warm up. Asking what I wanted to do I said “I have unfinished business with the Lecht from last year.” His next advice shook me to my core. “Well if you want to do that you can’t ride tomorrow.” He explained that if I rode tomorrow I’d not ride the next guaranteed. Your body needs time to warm up and rest.

At that point I broke down and I am not ashamed to say I cried. I like to complete rather than compete these days. I knew he was right but my pride was hurt and I felt a failure, broken that I wouldn’t complete all stages. He said I hadn’t failed. “What you did to finish today took guts and that was brilliant. You can take a medical strike, rest, support us and the riders on the Glenshee and come back for the Lecht.” I knew he was right but it hurt too much.

We then phoned Diane and he spoke to her as he suggested she come and pick me up and to spend the day with her tomorrow. She agreed to come and pick me up. Whilst happy the tears flowed as I succumbed to the reality that I wouldn’t ride my favourite stage and the feelings of failure engulfed me further.

Diane came and picked me up to go to her hotel and in talking in the car I could hardly get my words out and was really cold still. At the hotel I had a hot bath, got to bed contemplating tomorrow but before I could drink my cup of tea fell asleep exhausted.

Is it Madness? Ride Across Britain 2019 – Part One

Leave a reply

Having ridden Ride Across Britain in 2018, I had wondered about 2019. Did I have the drive, desire and determination to do it again? Would it be like last year? Would I enjoy it as much? So an innocent email reply by a cycling friend hit me in the solar plexus and I signed up again.”You are truly mad”, “Mad, mad, mad, mad, mad “ the parting words from colleagues as I embarked on this epic journey again. Perhaps I am, but I will say that throughout the build up I did not have the same anticipation for what was ahead. I suppose knowing what was coming, it wasn’t necessarily a surprise.

Nevertheless I prepared for the ride with a number of events as usual, some new kit but also new riding friends via a South West RAB Group, so felt good as an experienced end to ender, handing out knowledge and advice that hopefully would make their experience a memorable one. More so when my buddy Richard who I rode with last year joined up very late too.

So all packed up I drove down to pick Richard up at Penzance for the short hop to Land’s End where we had a lunch or rather he did I had a cream tea eaten the correct way naturally before heading off for the basecamp and reacquainting myself with my home for the next 9 days.

Cream Tea

RAB Tent

I met my first night neighbour who greeted me with the first chat up line “Do you snore?”. Well I can’t say that has ever been the first question to me. I smiled at her and said “I don’t know but probably!” I never been awake to find out.

: Camp

: Bike park

: My steed

: Dinner tent

Having settled in I met Richard in the basecamp meal tent and the other South West Rabbers as they arrived before going down to have the usual photos at the signpost with a glorious sunset in the distance. We returned to the meal tent for dinner chicken pie, potatoes and veg with a sticky toffee pudding. However I had to have great fresh strawberries and cream!) before waiting for the briefing from the organisers that signalled the start of our adventure.

: The sign

: Ready to go

: With Richard

: Sunset

: The steed all ready to go

: South West Rabbers

: SW Rabbers at dinner

Raring to go

You can really say that the rider “bubble” starts when the tune Diffrentology by Bunji Garmin comes over the speakers. The bubble is the all enveloping community that strikes up between the riders to look out for one another, help and do things for each other whilst you are outside of the real world.

It was all very familiar as I sat there but was apprehensive for the ride. I was worried I had forgotten something. It was good to pick up a free inner tube and Co2 canisters from an event sponsor before deciding to get as earlier night possible.

With Bunji Garlin and Differentology playing in my head as I walked to my tent “I was ready” for the forthcoming trip and just hoped it would all go as smoothly as last year.

https://youtu.be/YIIWSofTsDo

Day One Land’s End to Okehampton 105.6 miles and 8232ft of climbing

God what an awful night’s sleep. Just kept waking up every few hours but then that is what camping is all about. I was awake with the same old wake up music, Ant & Dec or should I say PJ and Duncan with “Let’s get ready to Rumble” before getting dressed and packing everything up.

I saw my neighbour and said “Did I snore?” With my cheeky smile and she replied “No you were good.” Phew I thought.

I set off to meet Richard for breakfast where I ate heartily as I knew you needed as much food as you could when it is offered before making my way back to my tent to get my bag, put my cycling shoes on and meet the others at the start. We had arranged to set off at 7am after the mad rush at 6.30 so as to have a clearer run out of camp.

Whilst waiting I saw Nathan Robertson who I met last year who was now chaperoning this year. We chatted and shook hands whilst the others gathered.

The others within our group all arrived for 7 and we got our Strava apps ready and waited for the call to start pedalling. The event photographer was there to grab a picture of Richard and me at the start in our Coastbusters jerseys that made it to the best of event photographs.

Best of Sportograf photos with Richard at the start

Richard had said he wanted to smash the first two stages. He didn’t lie. On exiting the camp, he shot off like a man on EPO and within 200m was gone. I never saw him again until camp. I found myself on the short climb to Sennen with Anthony Rees a fellow SW Rabber, a good rider who I met on previous training rides.

I was wary of the drain at Sennen that caused a rider to crash last year but was travelling well in the overcast weather. Any semblance of nerves dissipated as we rolled along to Penzance my lovely steed was sublime on the descents. However Anthony was having issues. It seems his bike handlebars had not been tightened following his bike transfer. We stopped for him to adjust before making our way to Marazion and St Michaels Mount. We took the obligatory photos and were caught by the event photographer too.

: The start

: The start

: Two mean looking Coasties

: Handlebar problems

: The road to Penzance

: With Anthony

: Marazion and the Mount

Spotted

: Mounts Bay with Anthony

: Marazion with Anthony

We chatted away to pass the time as the small villages passed. Richard had organised stem stickers for each day that I used to assist with pacing to each feed station. Pacing because day one is perhaps the hardest stage. There are no horrendous climbs but it is persistently up and down along narrow lanes covered in shingle that twist and turn. I was however enjoying myself as we got to the first feed station where Anthony got the coffees and I got the food (ubiquitous pork pies!) to save time between us.

Richard’s stickers

It was drizzling slightly as we left to go to Truro where traffic had built up. Anthony had more handlebar issues but we had been joined by Nathan Robertson on our restart and formed a group of 10 or so riders to tackle the middle section. I was glad I could get a picture of his Colnalgo this year but I found myself on the front of the group chatting to him when the official photographer on a motorbike came passed. It was good to see that photo later.

: Nathan’s Colnalgo

: On the front with Nathan

We were moving swiftly passing through the brilliantly named Stepaside and onto Roche and the Cornwall services. From here the road opens and is quick though exposed and I found it hard to keep on the wheel and lost touch. We climbed up passed Lanhydrock but I could see our group in front but was always just out of reach. I started to feel tired but knew the next feed wasn’t too far away at Doublebois .

: Railway bridge

: Going well

I got to the feed and met up with Andy Elliott and Andrew Midgeley other SW Rabbers whilst Anthony got his bike sorted. Lunch stops always include sandwiches or rolls but my crisps were stale or soft so had to ditch them. We agreed to ride as a 4 and as we left I scrounged some wine gums from the Vodafone support man. Anthony was riding as a corporate rider for them, well I am a Vodafone customer was my excuse. They came in handy later.

As we left Andrew and I became detached from Anthony and Andy and we rode together up to Minions on Bodmin Moor our highest point of the day. As I climbed up the slog passed King Gonerts Stone I heard “Ah Martin, how are you?” “Fine though tired,” was my response. The lady then said “we met on the Tour of Wessex,” “Don’t remind me” was my reply. Normally I remember people but they escaped me, perhaps I wasn’t so in tune on the Wessex ride because of how bad the experience was.

: Bodmin Moor

: Minions descent

Andrew stopped for photos at the top and I said I’d carry on and he could catch me. On I went and descended the rapid descent knowing I’d broken the back of the day but there would be more climbs to come. Turning left at the Caradon Inn it dawned on me I’d be on my own as Andrew was nowhere. This section to Launceton was energy sapping. I’d run out of food and just prayed for Launceston. It signified Devon for me. Each short hill was negotiated painfully. I grabbed the wine gums for some sugar as I struggled.

I contemplated stopping in Launceston for a coffee as I approached the town. As I passed the town square I saw a number of cyclists stopped in the coffee shop. In the end I carried on. Descending out of the town I was joined by Hayley Parker. Boy she is a good rider; very strong and we chatted briefly and I explained the last 25 miles or so to camp but more importantly that we were entering the best county in the country.

The Devon sign was greeted with a satisfying smile to myself as I climbed away from Polson Bridge and up towards Lifton. Hayley had cycled on as I slowly climbed the hill. As I passed the local garden centre there was Anthony since Andy had met his wife and was having afternoon tea. We hooked up again and rode along the old A30. Anthony pulled me along until we reached the outskirts of Okehampton. We chatted about how he rides to heart rate. I never been able to wear a monitor and is probably why I suffer more as I don’t monitor my output on a bike and so am more inconsistent.

Devon

On turning left we hit the false flat on the initial road to Holsworthy. I opened the taps as best I could motoring at 30mph until the right turn at the roundabout and on down to camp. Exhilarating after a tough day in the saddle. I headed off to get my tent not before asking the mechanics to look at my chain that was slipping. It appears I had one too many links.

I checked in for my massage later and had 45 mins to spare. A quick chat with the medics to strap both my Achilles and for some exercises to prevent the tendonitis I had last year, I’d felt some twinges today, and then I went and got some soup and bread for tea.

As I then got my massage I realised what a tough start I’d had and wondered if I would make it. The same thoughts dominated my thinking as I met the others for dinner and that night’s briefing. I went to my tent for 9 o clock and an early night.

: Okehampton camp

The drone of the traffic on the A30 a constant presence as I contemplated what was to come and having suffered towards the end my doubts over my task enveloped me as I closed my eyes.

As for Richard, not only first into camp that day but the quickest time of the day.

Day Two Okehampton to Bath 110 miles and 6852ft of climbing

Having slept a little better I awoke and told myself to get a grip. I’d ridden this before I can do this the worst day is over.

My tent was further away from the breakfast tent today so I made sure everything was packed up before leaving to eat. I don’t recall any wake up music today but some time in the night I woke up and discovered my missing arm warmers in my sleeping bag from last year😀👍.

I wandered over for breakfast at 5am and met Richard. I noticed everyone was walking around like zombies. A bit earlier than last year but at least we had a bed to look forward to tonight in Bath.

After breakfast I met up with the others at the start but today was Andrew’s birthday. He’d bought himself a GoPro camera at 2am (yes!) that morning that would be delivered to his home for tomorrow, nice. Andrew and I decided to ride together today and for me today and tomorrow he was an absolute star!

It was extremely cold in the wind as we descended into Okehampton before turning off towards North Tawton. The sun was breaking through in the morning light as the road undulated. We set a good pace for us and met a chaperone who I recognised from last year. David his name was and I’d ridden with him at the start of day 9 last year. I joked about him dropping me at Lairg, to which he got some ribbing from the other chaperones around.

: On our way Day 2

: Early light on the road to North Tawton

We passed through Bow on our way to Crediton with the hidden climb negotiated well and passing other cyclists. David stopped to assist with a puncture whilst Andrew and I carried on. I nearly got taken out my another cyclist who did not know what he was doing at a junction but I negotiated the small road closure as we descended round the back of Crediton. We took the small climb the other side nicely where Andrew dropped me to meet at the top, he can climb pretty well. The road passes Stockley Pomeroy where you can see our three friends in the garden.

Old friends, Shaun the sheep, Grommit and a Paignton zoo gorilla

On this lovely section of undulating road I became reacquainted with Martin Smith. He is an absolute unit on a bike. I’d met him yesterday since he carries unbelievable speed on descents it is a sight to behold. He does suffer uphill though.

Martin Smith

I then approached a lady on a bike with her gilet all unzipped and said “Good morning flapper!” being the name for riders who let their jackets flap around. It turned out she was a chaperone Georgina from Cornwall.

As I crested a climb Andrew was taking photos and I said catch me at the bottom of the fast twisting descent to Bickleigh Bridge. I love this bit and took it in my stride. I waited at the bottom for some 2 minutes but Andrew didn’t show. So I rode on this time with Georgina up the flat road to Tiverton. Bickleigh is an emotional point for me as it signifies the last point that is close to home for me.

I chatted to Georgina since she was local up to Tiverton before passing through the town and on up the Exe Valley to Bampton and the first feed station at the football club. Along the Valley I was passed by a man on a Brompton. Yes a Brompton. He was rapid on that bike I can say but boy what an effort that was going to be.

Brompton Man

On offer was a free coffee today albeit half a cup that was hardly worth the wait. I met Andy Elliott here and “big” Chris. Chris Read was on the Wessex ride and I kept meeting him before Andrew caught up with me. The problem was today the Ready Salted crisps were stale too this was becoming a problem.

Bampton feed

The queue for the toilets were huge so I said to Andrew let’s go and find somewhere en route. The road was nice and quick as we rode on towards the Somerset border and Wiveliscombe. the sun began to shine more purposefully as we hit the Somerset border where the appropriate field was found and it seemed others had a similar idea. We came across two riders who were brothers. As I passed riders you can see their names on their seat post flags and I like to add their name to the warning ‘on your right’ as I pass. The Daley brothers as it turned out from Canada who were here with their parents. I would continually see them on the ride.

We were headed for the first major climb of the whole ride Cothelstone. It seems everyone was apprehensive about it. If you’ve ridden it it’s not too bad just a long grind with a false flat after the initial slopes. As we passed through Wiveliscombe the Quantocks can be seen in the distance. You have a short wake up call to negotiate first but cresting the top we stopped to take in the view; superb West Country landscape.

: The Quantocks

: Some bloke

: The birthday boy, the cycling Primal advert

As we rode to Cothelstone we agreed to meet at the top after the Deloitte cheerleaders but before as we approached Bishops Lydeard the West Somerset steam railway train was passing under the road bridge.

The train reversing to pick up its coaches

The road to Cothelstone is a long false flat through the village but all the while you see the impending hill. It ramps just after the entrance to the manor and I just settled in letting Andrew go up in front. Surprisingly he didn’t speed away from me as quickly as I thought. I passed many cyclists so I must have gone up ok. You do get a superb view back to the Blackdown hills from here. It was climbing Cothelstone I first encountered Chris Weights. Not that I could ride with him but I was in awe of his riding. He motored up the climb with ease and also looked good on the bike. Chapeau to him.

: Cothelstone Manor

: The top!

: To the Blackdown Hills

: Yep,

: Cothelstone middle section

I lost Andrew as we rode the false flat to the top where Jenny Dalton was cheering in the car park with her dog. I looked for Andrew but didn’t see the Primal man but unbeknown to me he was taking it off.

Thinking he’d gone on I moved off for the reward, the brilliant fast descent for a good 2 or 3 miles to Bridgewater. Exhilarating to just let my bike flow I had a ball. I did stop for a photo out to the Severn and Hinckley Point C nuclear plant that is being built.

The Severn

As I entered Bridgwater I expected to catch Andrew as I descend much quicker than him but I didn’t. I needed to be on my mettle as traffic had built up and it took a lot of concentration to negotiate the town until we climbed off the A39 and drop down to the Somerset levels at Woolavington and on to the second feed at East Huntspill. In the distance was the next obstacle Cheddar but I love this climb.

The Levels to Cheddar in the distance

i arrived at the feed and was so happy. There in front of me was fresh pineapple 🍍 I could have stayed there all day, so refreshing I must have eaten 10 slices before I grabbed a Chicken Tikka roll and sat down with Andy Elliot where I also found Jo Robertson a fellow SW Rabber before Andrew came in and joined us. It was a good lunch in the sun but the bonus was to come.

When we set off to Wedmore, Andrew had arranged to meet his sister Anna where fresh coffee was on offer and cake. This was a boon and a fillip for morale. I would add that we never got to try the cake as her dog got hold of it, bless him.

Andrew, Anna and some bloke photobombing

We soon set off towards Cheddar through Wedmore when Anna came passed tooting her horn. She was a star.

Again we agreed to meet at the top of Cheddar and I settled in. Plenty of tourists here today but sadly so were the maniac motorbike riders. One with a pillion passenger came passed that rode somewhat dangerously slamming brakes on. I wouldn’t want to be her as pillion on there.

: Climbing Cheddar

: More Cheddar

I really enjoyed the climb and powered through the final mile and a half to the top where I picked up Andrew (at last!) and was happy to sit on the front despite him saying he would if necessary. We rode across the top but soon could see a long traffic queue in both directions ahead. As we approached an ambulance stopped and parked across the road. We stopped until the paramedics were sorted before passing on foot beside the hedge and the ambulance. There prone on the floor was a motorbike rider that I was sure was the pillion rider I’d seen earlier.

We got going again with Andrew on the front on a road that would be free of traffic, what could go wrong?

Andrew on the front

Powering on down to dangerous crossroads we had right of way and cruised on up an incline. In changing down my main chainring, my chain skipped and got stuck between my small ring and my bottom bracket. Try as I might I couldn’t free it. Oh come on. I was lucky as Martin Smith came passed stopped and helped free it. Good job as on top of the Mendips the phone signal is poor and we couldn’t ring the mechanics. This is what the bubble is all about I was grateful for the help from the big fella.

With mucky fingers I got going again and was so frustrated I put the hammer down as we turned off the road and off the Mendips and on to Radstock and Paulton. I loved it with Andrew following behind. Last year I was struggling on this section with dehydration but I was having a ball today.

Chewton Mendip

Short climbs like this were punched out before we traversed on to Bath and the university basecamp. I stopped at the entrance to recreate the photo from last year with Andrew before heading to the finish line for the day.

: 2019

: 2018

I got my room key and headed off for my uni halls room. It gives you a chance to sort your bag out and also get your laundry done. A quick shower and I was off for dinner to meet the others where I discovered a hot air balloon flying.

A couple of pints and a good beef bourginon saw me settled before the briefing in the Sports Hall. We had some 20 riders collecting their special jerseys for having ridden RAB three times. Thor Beverley from the SW Rabbers went to collect his before we had some guest speakers who were riding with us tomorrow. One was Shaynaze Read a former GB Olympic MTB rider.

Shaynaze and crew

If I’m honest I found this guest interview boring and couldn’t wait to get to bed and prepare for tomorrow and the forecast of…………..rain.🤪

Day 3 Bath to Ludlow 100 miles and 5972ft of climbing

One of the easier days was upon us. Once out of Chepstow it is an easy stretch although long at 70 miles or so of undulating road but really scenic. Ludlow also has the added attraction of the Deloitte cheeseboard as a bonus.

Whilst I had a nice bed I cannot say I had a better night’s sleep. Awake at 4.30am I couldn’t be bothered to go back to sleep but decided to get everything ready and dress for the day ahead. I hate the rain with a passion when cycling. My confidence goes big time. Still I laid out my jersey and thick rain jacket for when I returned and set off for breakfast via the laundry collection.

Laundry collection

As I waited in line the first patter of raindrops started. Great I thought as I headed for the canteen. I have to say I had my first feelings that I couldn’t eat anything but downed as much coffee and orange juice as I could. Ate as much of a cooked breakfast as I could since I had met Richard and Nathan for breakfast. It was a leisurely one as I had agreed to meet the other SW Rabbing men at 7am to ride the leg together.

As we left the breakfast canteen the heavens hadn’t opened, unbounded joy as I walked back to my room. I dropped my bag off and walked down to the bikes and hopefully would find the others. Fortunately we all seemed to find each other and got ready for the off.

Interestingly we had a new way to exit the University that involved a lot of greasy bricks in the wet that resembled Paris-Roubaix cobbles. A circumspect start became one of shear dread for me as we descended off the hill of the Uni and in towards the city. My brakes were squealing at me in the wet until we turned right and on to the road towards Bathampton.

At last I was happier as we rose up and then down to the Kennet and Avon canal where we hit the switchback and onto the cycle path to the fist obstacle of the day. Most roads out of Bath involve a climb. North End Hill is one such but also a main artery for commuting in and out of the city.

I found the climb easier this year but the problem we had was traffic. We slowed hem all up but in turn they became increasingly impatient. This was to be a feature for the whole ride up to Tockington before the Severn bridge. It was horrible to say the least. Still the views were better as the clouds cleared briefly.

: Wiltshire

: Traversing the top of Bath towards the Bridge.

At one point I picked up Andy Elliot who I didn’t know had surged ahead so stopped to wait for the others. We passed through many a little village and on point I missed a turn to the right and heard the calls from those behind. What a nonce I said to myself as I did a 180 degree turn. At one junction we stopped and all I can say is Thor whatever are you signalling 🤣

: One junction

: The White Inn, Iron Acton

I hated this whole section. Drivers were getting so irate with us. Thor was brilliant in defusing the situation. I took a leaf out of his book when I passed one driver whose window was down and shouted “another fu**ing ar5eh@le”. “Good morning” I said “ I hope you have a good day at work and that your dinner is great when you get home” smiling to myself. Another van driver got out and asked what was going on as we stopped just before a junction. “ A charity bike ride from Land’s End to John o Groats” I replied. “what charity?” Was followed by “Macmillan cancer, Prince’s Trust, Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, Cancer Research, Prostate Cancer, BHF, CRY amongst a lot more” I said and it seemed to shut him up.

The rest of the journey to the bridge passed without issues as we were on roads more a-tune to cycle friendly roads. we agreed to stop in the middle for a group photo before moving on to Chepstow and the first feed station. However the weather had turned nasty again with a thick misty drizzle. I was pleased I’d put my rain jacket on.

: Over the M5

: Approaching the bridge

: Over the Severn

: Getting to the middle of the bridge

Group photo from l-r, Nick, Andy,Andrew, Anthony some bloke, David, Thor and Chris

So into Wales we went albeit briefly for about 4 miles but more importantly we could feed ourselves. However the heavens truly opened as we took refuge under the gazebo of the feed station to eat our food. We were stood behind Shanayze who after 34 miles decided to give up. Not your hardened cyclist here.

Andrew was now coming into his own again. He lives nearby en route and had arranged his family to provide coffee and cake for us ( any ruse to collect-his new GoPro🤣). What a star he was. He left early to go on and set it all up whilst we gathered to get ready to leave. I left with David to cross over the Wye and back into England and up the short poke towards the Forest of Dean. It was just a shame that we could not castle in all its glory. Here it is from last year.

Shaynaze giving up

Chepstow castle

Back into England

Last year I found this climb a chore but this year did it with ease but my delight was short lived. We turned left at the top and I punctured. Great in the rain this would not be nice until Andy saw a bus shelter that was also a local book library. In I went and changed my inner tube.

No time to sit and read

Last year 980 miles and no punctures between 3 of us, now the gods were against me. The others had gone on but Andy and I took the long slog to St Briavels and the promised coffee. The road continues its gradual climb to one of the high points of the Forest. With wet greasy roads I was hoping for no further punctures, I am so wary after I have one. Being wet and uncomfortable didn’t help either.

As we approached St Briavels we turned off left as instructed rounding a bend by the church we saw the others bikes parked outside The pantry coffee shop. We stopped and popped in boosting the day’s takings. Boy that coffee was so warming and good. Anthony thought so too.

Coffee in the Pantry

Amazingly David picked up the whole tab!😯 Many Thanks David. From here we made a short walk to Andrew’s house where his wife had a brilliant Raspberry and Cream cake 🍰 for us. This was getting better and better today.

: Cake time😀

It was also good to warm up out of the cold rain. Soon though we had to leave and get cycling on the wet roads again. A short climb after Coleford took us to the beautiful descent I remembered from last year after the brilliantly named English Bicknor. Sadly with the roads as they were you had to take the sweeping bends through the trees with care before rolling out along the Valley floor.

It became a slog in the wet and the temperature seemed to drop too as we made our way to Ross on Wye. It became a case of just get the miles done. I was thankful that the main climbing had been done for the day. Passing through Ross we noticed the number of cyclists who’d stopped in the coffee shops. Descending off the centre we saw one had stopped in the fish and chip shop. He was enjoying his purchase I can tell you.

Turning left we started a short climb to the local school where I felt my front tyre go all spongey. I stopped and felt the tyre was deflated slightly. It would only get worse. Nick stopped and I changed my inner tube again with the help of a chaperone who stopped to help. I decided to make sure it was right at the next feed stop with the mechanics.

We should have enjoyed the next bit but as the weather was overcast you couldn’t appreciate the scenery. Nick was with me as we rode since I was out of inner tubes and Co2 gas to inflate my tyres. I wanted the feed station to warm up with a coffee. Up and down on a country lane the road went before I saw the event photographer in a blue shower cape that covered his head with a plastic window. It seemed like a Martian running at you before we hit the feed station at Fownhope. I parked up and grab what food I could and met the others. Andrew bought me a coffee as I was cold. I noticed one other rider being escorted to the medics with a foil blanket. He’d abandoned the stage because of the cold.

I pumped my front tyre up before setting off with the others. I wanted to get to basecamp in Ludlow as soon as. We worked as a team to keep going but Thor and David had moved on prior to us leaving. It was a case of head down and work together home. I remember hitting Leominster and we had been with some other riders. One said you’ve dropped your mates. What? I hadn’t heard a call but sure enough I was on my own.

A little selfishly I decided to carry on. My speed was good,I was cold and wanted to get to the cheeseboard before it was all gone. I had 20 miles to go so I just opened the taps and set myself an hours target to finish. The ground disappeared under my wheels. I started singing to myself “This is the place” by Noel Gallagher. It has a mesmerising beat that got me flowing on the bike with lyrics that resonated with my frustrations of the last 2 days :

The further you fall the higher you fly
You keep on reaching and don’t know why
The road is long and I’ve been losing my way
But the night is young and you’ve got nothing to say

If you ain’t got no love
If you ain’t got no faith
If you come to find what you’re looking for
I can tell you now this is the place
If you ain’t got no love
If you ain’t got no faith
If you come to find what you’re looking for
I can tell you now this is the place
This is the place
This is the place
This is the place
This is the place……..

It was definitely a place I wanted to be in. In a zone, concentrating on pedalling, feeling good

eating the miles. I passed Thor and David, determined, driven to do my best. I passed so many

riders and three joined me. I didn’t mind pulling them, I was having a blast.

Even the climb-up into Ludlow was easily tackled before I descended to the bypass that

signified the racecourse and basecamp.

As I turned off the main road I felt tired and my new mates passed me pulling my leg. Ah I

thought I’ll get you back. We turned into the racecourse to take on the final half a mile or so. I

waited and waited and with one last effort sprinted into the finish overtaking them into the line,

smiling as I did so.

I quickly washed my bike to get to the cheeseboard that was divine.

I got my tent and quickly showered. I needed to get my massage as soon as possible my legs were pleasurably stiff. Whilst there I overheard a conversation with the medical support team and Al Moore. He said “ Al, Al, Al” to a bemused set of staff to which I called out “ that’s not Alan it’s Steve….Steve, Steve, Steve.” Al turned around and smiled at me as we both knew the sketch. It was the start of much merriment to the finish at JoG.

On the way back I bought a pint to have with my dinner and went to meet Richard in the dining hall. There where I ate as best I could was Jo Robertson. I felt she was dispirited as she said she’d had a lonely day, so I agreed with Thor that I’d ride with him and Jo for the next day to Haydock.

After the briefing I returned to my tent, rang home as Diane was starting her journey to meet up later in the ride and prepared for the next day. The weather put paid to photographs today.

Day Four Ludlow to Haydock 106 miles and 3,133ft of climbing.

Ludlow has bad memories for me from last year and though things were better this time I still had a snorer in my midst. It did seem a better night but quite early I discovered my shoes were still damp from day 3. I rose and took them to the drying room that was heaving and also humming with a fusty smell. Geez.

Humming drying room

I was able go to get my Achilles retaped and my left thigh massaged further as I’d felt a twinge. My timings were going to plan as we were spread out more at this camp. I went to breakfast feeling positive after the end of yesterday. Here I met Pete Davies, a really nice guy who joined me for breakfast. However he is someone you do not want to meet during a stage. He drives the broom wagon.

I’ve bantered with him about catching me as I do ride a pretty rare make of bike. I sent him a bingo bike card of all makes to tick off but naturally didn’t include mine 🤣 Richard joined us and we chatted. He was going well smashing each stage.

I went back and held my breath as I collected my shoes that had dried a bit more. I went back to my tent and packed my last things away and then had the most surreal experience. My tent was open and opposite were two friends chatting in neighbouring tents. At one point I commented “too much information” that caused some laughter. One then unzipped her tent as she was just about ready to leave, then said “Oh crikey! I haven’t chamoised yet!” She the proceeded to use her cream in the appropriate places without closing her tent. I will say I did avert my eyes but we smiled and I wished them luck as I set off to meet the others.

I wanted a good day, one to enjoy whilst we had the easiest stage of the trip. The only thing to be a known problem was hitting the Manchester area at school pick up time.Meeting the others at 7am it would be a fun day.

The mad crew

As we set off the road out of the racecourse was wet and miserable. It was warmer today and the sun was trying to break through the clouds as we made our way through the back lanes that twisted and turned at regular intervals. Thor was chatting away keeping spirits up within the group as we cycled along. It was however a long 45 mile stretch to the first feed station though.

Stanton Lacy

Richard came bombing passed us at one point and I never saw him again. Turning left we passed a large Manor House with a horse in a field. As so many cyclists were passing it, the look of somewhat bewilderment from it was a sight to behold.

The road had a short climb to a junction where we turned right onto a main road before taking a left for a long gradual climb up the Stiperstones where we agreed to regroup at the top. It would be the only meaningful climb of the day. It was a narrow lane but I negotiated it well before stopping for the others and a group photo.

Setting off it’s a steep descent in wooded trees that was also greasy and so I took it easy. All the while there was an incessant wind. Nothing too strong but significant enough to make pedalling an effort to proceed quickly.

I remember one section where we hit a slight downhill where you could finally let your speed take you on a long straight narrow road near Cressage. The event photographer was there and I thought that might be a good photo but Threshold the organisers had thrust a fee for event photography this year at the last moment that we weren’t impressed with. Would I buy it I don’t know.

The weather was improving slightly and the views across were stunning in the cloudy overcast light of the day. I was amazed by the little country hamlets that seemed so remote from anywhere. I should be used to them being near Dartmoor but they seemed to pop up from nowhere.

: Narrow twisty roads

: Brightening up

: Kenley church

: Cressage views

: Out to the Burway Hills

: Eaton Contantine

: Cottages at Waters Upton

We passed over one bridge where the event photographers were setting up on the stone parapet and it seemed he wanted to jump off! I was enjoying the day in a relaxed manner with the others but have to say that the first stretch was a little too long in relation to the feed stop.

The feed arrived at Stoke upon Tern sports centre and I tucked into the usual fare for the morning stop, pork pie, mini cheddars, cheese crisps (not stale now) before setting off again for the middle section to Middlewitch.

I remember this being an easy section as it is relatively flat. Once you had negotiated a main road that was not nice to ride with the wind for about a mile you turn off on to the normal roads Andy Cook likes to use. Jo took this picture of us as we rounded a bend.

Thumbs up from me

Thor came out with one of the funniest comments of the whole trip. As you cross junctions you shout “Clear” if no cars are coming. As we road over a level crossing ” All clear” he shouted. I could contain my laughter at that for awhile. Nice piece of humour I thought.

Level crossing humour

As the day continued to brighten up we joined a lady who had met a friend from Coalville Cycling club to ride with and we formed a chain-gang lead by Thor and we worked together along the flat roads that turned at right angles all the way to Nantwich. It was pretty good fun that was captured by the motorbike photographer. The route also passed over the Shropshire Union canal that also goes over this bridge at Nantwich.

: Shropshire Union canal

: The canal bridge at Nantwich

The time passed quickly as I discovered the delights or shall we say not so delights of Coalville from our gatecrasher but we were all happy and then we coasted into the second feed at Middlewich Football ground.

Andy Elliott was there as were all the usual crew. It was here though I saw it was Derren Midsen’s birthday, a fellow RAber from 2018. I sent him a picture of the “bubble” at Middlewich wishing him a happy birthday and he loved that as he will be back in 2020.

I went to the medics and got my knee strapped as I was concerned for a deep inner pain. Not acute but annoying that hurt with every push off. I was having to learn to push off with my left (weaker) leg to prevent discomfort and descend with my left knee forward. It is really strange trying to do something that is not natural

When it was time to leave we passed through a housing estate and out of Nantwich to take the long roads to Knutsford and beyond. Our group seemed to have multiplied and was now about 25. Thor said it was too big but I carried on riding as I like to do first, second or third wheel to enable be to see where I was going. I rode on the front with one guy and he was of a similar standard to me and we pressed on at a good lick.

Sunnier day at Minshull Vernon

As you ride sometimes you don’t always see all views and monuments. One junction had this memorial stone in the middle of nowhere by a junction but you couldn’t stop too long as we were in a group.

On through Knutsford where I saw an old AA phone box on the other side of the road that I missed last year. Again on the front I was tapping out low a 20mph as we started to hit the built up areas of Greater Manchester area. I did not know that I had dropped Thor and the others or they had backed off since I know was pulling a big group. I was enjoying myself determined to get to Haydock.

As I took a road that is a gentle downhill to some lights before a narrow single lane bridge I felt something wrong with my front tyre again! No not now please but sur enough my front tyre was slightly deflated and so was I. I crossed over to the pavement and heard from some of the group, “No, he was our lead out guy.”

I changed my inner tube and started pumping it up when I heard a bang. I had obviously pinched my tyre. Great I was now out of tubes and Co2 gas for the day and about 10 miles from basecamp. I didn’t want the broom wagon. Luckily 2 guys stopped and gave me a tube and Co2 to change it again. Thor and the others came passed and said they would wait for me.

I got going again and met the others and Jo said she had a problem as she was nearly out of her Di2 gear shifter oil so was stuck in one gear to the finish. Well we were in for a bit of fun today.

Over the Manchester Ship canal I then descended a tree clad road and heard a metal clink and thought “Geez what now!”, turning around I rode back up to see what it was in case it was something from my bike. I found a metal hook that I had passed over. I was just grateful it wasn’t anything from my bike.

Manchester Ship canal

I was now so cheesed off with my luck I rode on fuming. I know I hadn’t had a serious mechanical but such rotten luck and believe I must have had a faulty set of inner tubes. I cycled on just praying for the basecamp, passed a field with an alpaca in it but at least the sun was shining.

An alpaca

Not long I made the turn into Haydock Park and basecamp where I was just glad to finish, clean my bike off and set off for my tent. I was fuming. Surely things can’t get any worse than this. It was a long hour of showering, dropping laundry off where I was quizzed for the amount in my bag but it contained my wet waterproof coat from yesterday and preparing my tool bag with more inner tubes that I had to buy as I’d used them all and Co2 gas.

: Haydock finishing straight

: Haydock grandstand

I didn’t feel in a social mood sadly as I made my way to dinner and really didn’t know where the others were especially as I’d queued for some physio too on my knee pain that was linked to my quadriceps. I discovered that my physio Nancy was the chaperone Georgina’s sister and she had worked on my Achilles last year on day 8.

Anyway after the physio I made my way to dinner and had a nice chat with some other riders and then noticed my usual crew just down the table from me. Mind you Richard snapped this photo of me.

Unsociable one

I then went down for the briefing where we had an unexpected guest speaker. As Julian Mack gave us his usual speech about what a day he then introduced Sir Dave Brailsford, Head of Team Ineos who were in the area on the Tour of Britain. He was pretty funny all the same.

Sir Dave

After the briefing I trudged back to my tent contemplating when I might had a good day and was left to try to sleep as the drone of traffic on the M62 filled the air.

Day 5 Haydock to Carlisle 116 miles and 5,558ft of climbing

It was raining when I woke up and before Freddie started to blare through the speakers singing that he wanted to ride his bicycle. It was up get laundry and sorted as best as possible since the breakfast was further away and so would save time and energy.

Today though was not looking good. Dark skies, rain and general tiredness did not bode well. It was an earlier start today as compared to last year the route had been extended by 10 miles to save 10 miles on Day 6. It also has the first major climb since Cothelstone, being Shap Fell over the Lake District. The second feed station at Milnthorpe would also mean the halfway point of the ride. All I wanted more than anything else was a good day.

There is very little to report on what is an absolute drab first 30 miles to the first feed station. It perhaps is the worst part of the ride as you make your way through a lot of built up areas of Wigan, Leyland and Preston. It was raining quite hard, I had forgotten to get my rear light for my bike that morning, it was commuter traffic laden and just generally miserable. However I seemed to pick up a lady called Laura and we rode together as I hadn’t met my usual crew wanting a day to myself. I was soaked after 5 miles and then in a group all started saying “Good morning” to all people out walking or children walking to school who must have thought we were mad for riding in this weather or just mad anyway. We all started singing “Always look on the bright side of life” to keep morale going. We just wanted to get this section done.

We shared the load as it were and we worked together at a good pace. I passed Barry Lawson one of my Strava friends who wanted me to share the previous days ride with him as his Garmin failed. I said I would send it to him that night.

As Laura and I came round one corner at Preston we were being directed by an event saftey marshal away from a rider receiving medical attention. He had crashed after his wheels had slipped and presumably got entangled in the railway lines that diagonally crossed the road. I reckon that was game over for his ride. Not nice.

The rain seem to abate as we approached the feed station but the wind was significant but I was thankful to get there in one piece. As we parked our bikes I bought 2 coffees for us to warm up with and grabbed the usual fare. As I was stood I then got a big bear hug from behind and it was Richard. Little did he know that my prized Oakley glasses were inside my jacket on my chest. I hoped he hadn’t broken them. Thankfully he hadn’t, so was my luck turning?

Richard and the geek. Oakleys not broken

The clouds seemed to abate slightly but the rain had stopped. As Laura and I got ready to leave, she bumped into two guys who left with us. They were colleagues of hers and all 3 were riding for Deloitte. One was Nick Seaver who was part of the South West RABers who I’d yet to meet and the other Sven Probst from Switzerland. We would now work as a 4 to eat up the miles.

: Typical road we were on

: Looking back to Morecombe Bay

Fortunately the roads now would take us through the Vale of Lune and new the Forest of Bowland. It is picturesque but the weather put paid to decent views. The roads eventually just climbs gradually and you can see back to Morecombe Bay on a good day. I had wanted to branch off at Quernmore to take on Jubilee Tower climb but the weather had put paid to that. As the sun was now starting to break out we stopped to take our jackets off.

Laura, Sven and Nick at the back

Whilst we traversed the Vale I chatted to Sven as to where he came from. As he spoke I thought of my childhood holidays I’d had in Switzerland. I had many a happy holiday but as he mentioned he lived near Lake Konstanz, I was reminded when my brother and I were nearly swept down to the River Rhine by currents whilst on a pedalo.

I was really enjoying meeting other people and Sven could ride as we pulled each other along. The sun dried our clothes from the morning. We passed one guy holding out his gloves to dry in the wind also. However I was amazed by one conversation with Laura. All 3 were on the Plus package with the ride, (bussed in and out of camp for hotel stays each night) though they worked for Deloitte they had to pay full price. I thought they would get a slight discount. On no they didn’t.

: Sign says it

: Quernmore

: Quernmore

: Quernmore

: Quernmore

The road turns back to take the turning to the Crook of Lune that has two bridges and are a beauty spot.

: The river Lune

: Bridges

The river arcs in a horseshoe and a number of riders stopped here before the road rises up into trees. We motored up it before we turned off and up a different road to last year. It ended up being a nasty little climb at Halton and was a wake up call.

Uphill at Halton

Halton

Once up another short climb we carried on through a quarry area to Over Keller and I chatted to Nick where he spends time in Sidmouth though works in London. I chatted about my fraud days in the Bank and audit and how his type of work in cyber crime with Banks is totally new and different to my Bank fraud now.

It passed the time as we made our way to Milnthorpe and halfway. There were lovely views and we were working well together.

: On the way to Milnthorpe

Once at Milnthorpe it was time to get the obligatory photo at the sign where feed station was in the churchyard. It was my new friend Al the medic doing the photo duties and guess what he did.

: On the way to Milnthorpe

: Halfway

: Showing you I’m halfway

: Feed station at Milnthorpe

Well I’ll share Big Al with you….

I had to laugh at this and it is so Al. I was having a good day. I was happy and looking forward to Shap Fell. Perhaps my luck was changing.

Tour of #Where’s the food? sorry Wessex

2 Replies

The Tour of Wessex is a 3 day multi cyclosportive that runs out of Langport, Somerset and has been on my bucket list to do for awhile. It has been regarded as one of the top 10 UK events to do. The three routes include, Cheddar and Stourhead on day one, the Isle of Purbeck on day two and the duel challenge of the Quantocks and Exmoor on day three.

I needed some back to back days of riding in preparation for September so entered the 3 x 100+ mile routes and was looking forward to testing myself on roads I knew on days 1 and 3 but day 2 would be whole new experience. Also several RABers would be riding and it would be good to meet them also.

I found a good offer from the new Holiday Inn in Bridgwater that would be my base and set off on the Saturday morning at stupid o clock for the event. You had to be parked up by 7.30 at Huish Episcopi for the 8am start.

With my trusty steed I got myself ready in full RAB kit along with a number of riders. I had been allocated rider 662 and fixed this to the front of my bike, that also acted as your timing chip.

Tour of Wessex start

The Masses

As I joined the heaving mass of riders at the start a familiar voice came over the speaker system, Joe Fisher or my hup hup man as I call him. He used to provide all the entertainment commentary at the Tour of Britain and Tour Series. As we started I called out hup hup to him and he waved as I waved back. I hadn’t seen him in a few years.

Day One 103miles : North Somerset, Cheddar Gorge, Wells, King Alfred’s Tower and Stourhead.

I was looking forward to this day. The middle section involves the roads of my favourite Sportive, the Lionheart, that sadly is no longer running. The section from Brewham to Penselwood is tough in parts but also lovely with the coup de grace of the climb of King Alfed’s Tower. That was to come but for now it was to concentrate on the initial pace and the first real climb of Cheddar Gorge.

Turning right out of the college and on out of Langport the road gentle descends in the main to the Somerset levels. Once on the levels, we had strung out a bit from the masses and as usual I found myself on the front of whatever group was behind me, tapping out a steady 19-20mph. Also there was a semblance of a headwind blowing in from the Severn.

: Mendips in the distance

: Start of the Tour and on the front

I was conscious not to go out hard with 3 long rides ahead but as a train of cyclists from VF Revolution came passed me I decided to hop on the back. Suddenly I was having a ball. Instantly my speed increased to around 23-25mph with little effort and I was protected from the wind.

Quick Peleton

I found myself riding next a lady of the group and we chatted nonchalantly as the momentum was kept up. The road along the A361 to Street was ridden so quickly that it was a real wake up call to turn left and straight into Padwell Hill climb to the A39. The effort at going at that speed took its toll on me as I climbed slowly up whilst that train seemed to sprint up it and into the distance.

First climb

We were crossing a ridge here and safely crossed the A39 before plunging down Shapwell Hill to the levels on the other side. Coming round one corner my line took me straight over a sunken drain where I was convinced I’d get a puncture. I rode down the switch curves gingerly but fortune was on my side and rode on the flat levels with the sun starting to heat up the day.

Speeding to Wedmore

Settling in I waited for the next train to hitch a ride on but felt good in myself. A short climb came and I heard, “Who have we here?” I looked to my right and a chap said he was Kevin and doing RAB. I was wearing my red ribbon, our code, on my helmet. We chatted to pass the time as we sped on passed the event photographer and on through Wedmore the last test before Cheddar Gorge.

I said it was a lovely climb with a great spin out to the top but he should like King Alfred’s as it is a favourite of mine. As a London Dynamo train came along I hitched a ride to the base of Cheddar. I was amazed by one lady’s cassette and chain that needed a clean big time. How can you ride these and not clean your chain? Weird.

: Climbing Cheddar – no coaches

: Spinning out the top of Cheddar

As I started the climb Kevin dropped me but I was thankful that the grockles had yet to emerge and the roads were clear of coaches. My mind drifted as I remembered the new Damian Boyd book arrived this week. His first novel is set here in Cheddar with the death of Jake Fayter, a brilliant set of books by an acquaintance of mine. Give them a read, you won’t be disappointed.

The Dynamos went off possessed and I held back thinking “fools!” A rhythmic cadence set me up well as I climbed to the pinch point that is the steepest bit and as I rose up out of the saddle overtook all the Dynamos and on up to the less forgiving slope where I changed upto big ring ring and accelerated away til the very top where I took my first serious drink but knowing the first feed was near at Priddy.

I remember this whole area on top of the Mendips from my schooldays and is lovely but horrendous if the wind blows. Today was a good day. Turning right and the left took us to a narrow road towards Priddy. As I rounded one corner to a short climb I found a girl trying to get going again having stopped to pick up her rain jacket. as I approached I reached out and gently pushed her to help, saying “come on then,”. Look of thanks and smile of appreciation was matched by her surprise as we then sped along to the downhill to Priddy where I nearly came a cropper. A woman car driver was pulling out of her drive and not looking left. How I survived I don’t know.

: Down to Priddy

: Priddy church

: First feed station at Priddy

At the square was a left turn and up to the church pathway to feed station. I was sweating in the heat but sat down to replenish myself and gather energy again. I wondered if I’d pushed to early with 3 days of riding . I bumped into Phil Dowle who I know on Strava who lives in Cranbrook and briefly chatted before I set off again on the middle section, that would take us along the top of the Mendips onto Wells and to the Stourhead estate.

I was now on my own initially, it always happens after a feed stop until you regroup and pedalled along the ridge before we turned right towards the descent to Wells. I was joined by another rider John who said he was from Cornwall and also on RAB. We rode on down a fast sweeping descent off the Mendips to Wells. I have never done this one but boy it was beautiful on my steed. I have come to really appreciate its descending abilities despite the rider on top. It is fast with its aero dynamic capabilities. I reckon it could go faster but I would be somewhat bricking it to say the least.

Into Wells

We turned right at the bottom and glided down the road to see the cathedral right in front of us. Turning left we didn’t pass through the city but started on the road to Evercreech. I was feeling happy as I started this section. I have so many good memories of the Lionheart. In turning off the main road, we hit a sharp climb where John dropped me. I thought I could climb ok but obviously not but then i was still struggling with my chest cold as i just went up it in my own way.

I was happy to just cycle along at my own pace but I seemed to be doing around 19mph average so was better than normal. The sky was blue and being on a ridge you could see for miles around.

: Going ok

: Arable lands

: In to Evercreech

On entering Evercreech I was joined by a heaving mass of cyclists and we motored along towards Bruton that really was Lionheart country. It is however a quick road too and cars were now the problem. As ever and I did know it was coming there are two smallish climbs to take you to Bruton. Everybody came passed me as I laboured up in my usual way, I felt so helpless. Cresting the first out on the hills to my left standing proud was King Alfred’s Tower. More dominant that I recall so perhaps some deforestation had taken place around it.

King Alfred’s Tower on the hill in the far distance

A rapid descent took me to the next climb that I took with greater ease because of the momentum before descending into Bruton and the course split. I turned left for the 20 mile Stourhead loop. I was no even more excited for the roads I knew so well but not ridden for 4 years or so.

Getting nearer and on to Brewham

Turning right out of Bruton the road meanders along a valley with the railway line to your right before a gentle climb to Brewham. The Tower was standing proud now as I turned right for the descent to South Brewham not before encountering a large tractor coming up the hill. A quick S bend takes you to a short brute of an incline passed the village hall that always was a Lionheart feed stop. A slow grind takes you up to the poshest duckhouse I have ever seen.

: South Brewham climb

: Posh duck house

: Posh duck house

It was here that I first encountered the Black Widows Cycling Club. Resplendent in the kit pink and black kit, they initially came passed but I tagged on as we rode on to the second major climb of the day. They were riding quickly and much better than me but as an 8 or so group were working together.

Pink and Black of Black Widows cycling

King Alfred’s Tower climb is an incline that I love. It is a narrow single road that whilst climbing upwards all the time is like a stair case until the final section underneath the Tower when the gradient really steepens and takes all you can. I sat in behind the Black Widows and spun as fast as I could chatting to a couple of guys as one had said “Why’s my Nan ringing me?” I’d replied because we are all invited for dinner. It passed the time to the really business end of the climb where I heaved myself up with a little zig zag to see the Tower in all its glory.

King Alfred’s Tower

The road whilst narrow is a quick one that is a gentle down gradient and yet you would never realise it. Your speed quickens as you open out from the forest area and onto the main road at Kilmington. It is a short hop to Sourhead but we were now a mass of some 40 cyclists and cars found it difficult to pass. Turning right towards Stourhead there was a hold up as we all seemed to stop. Garmins were pipping “Off Course” though the course arrow pointed straight on; some wanted to turn left. Left takes you to the old airfield but straight on and the way I went with a couple of Black widows was on to the National Trust entrance to Stourhead and the lake.

I knew where we were headed and that the road we were on would take us there. The other way would get you there if you took the correct right turn. As we dropped a lady from the Black widows said “I’ve done this 3 times and never remember where we go”. I reassured her on the quick road down to the lake and the beautiful bushes and trees in flower.

: Stourhead

As it was I was to have some considerable banter come fun with these Black Widows the whole weekend.

On I ploughed up to Gaspar as the Widows waited to regroup at a crossroads. The next climb all the way to a hairpin is not as bad as it is made out. After a short steep bit passed the houses the road winds its way through a forest ever upwards but at a gradient you can do a fair old lick at.

I was progressing well when I heard this familiar lady’s voice say “It’s about the Life Choices you make….” I knew who it was and as the two came passed me I said “Now young man, don’t worry about those Life Choices she has made as she won’t remember them” that caused much laughter between us as the Black Widows sped passed.

Climbing to Penslewood

We were headed for Penslewood and road suddenly arcs left at a hairpin type bend and into a short climb that brings you to another false flat downhill that I relish. Unfortunately so did everyone else and I couldn’t catch them.

Penslewood hairpin

As I rode down the road I saw a runner come my way dressed in the black vest with “BRNC” on it. My thoughts instantly turned to Edward and his first naval officer posting to the Queen Elizabeth as he needed to report to ship on Tuesday. I couldn’t be prouder of him especially as he now has his gold sub-lieutenant stripe on his uniform.

Once through Penslewood the road plummets down towards the A303 and I just hoped no car was coming the other way. It wasn’t and as I approached the road junction with the A303 slip road, I stole a march on all the others who were waiting at the junction, slipped out on to the main road with my momentum and on to take a right turn and the road back to Bruton.j

As I was going along the Widows came passed me and was greeted with ” It’s Mr Ribbon man” again. I chatted with my new friends briefly and explained why I was wearing it but from then on I was Mr Ribbon man.

The road undulates along but we were back into a headwind and here I now came across two Plymouth Corinthian riders who I rode with for the next few miles and chatted away about all things Devon. They were having a good ride and were pretty quick also even if older than me too.

Turning off the main road we instantly had another downhill reward passed Redlynch Park as we were headed for the next feed station near Bruton School for Girls. I was ready for something else to eat as though I had carried some flapjack I needed a banana and something more. When I got there, there was pretty much the same fare as before albeit the bananas were now cut into thirds. I filled up with water had a couple of mini scotch eggs before telephoning Diane as I would be back a lot earlier than I predicted my pace had been much better. I could see Glastonbury Tor in the distance from the car park and gauged that it was not too far to go.

2nd feed stop and Glastonbury in the distance

I set off on my own and soon was on the flatter roads of the levels. I now started to put the hammer down on these long flat roads that sometimes twisted and turned, changed course at right angles to curb speed purposely. The area was punctuated by farmyard odours and I was amazed at the number of cows in one field and then realised why. we passed through Wyke Farms they of the famous supermarket cheese 🙂 I couldn’t stop I was on a mission.

Somerset levels

With the sun blazing down I mustered all the strength I had determined to push on as quickly as I could, calling “on your right” to many a rider as I flew passed. However well I was travelling well what do you know but my Black Widow friends came hurtling by as we neared Glastonbury. Had I wanted to tag on to the back I couldn’t. When I have pushed hard I need to recover for a couple of miles before exerting myself again.

: The Tor

: The Tor

What I did notice as we came to a left hand turn at a junction their kit looked extremely immaculate in the afternoon sun and with the backdrop of the trees almost looked Tour de Franceesque as I approached the junction.

It was here I caught a big fellow named Chris who noticed my ribbon and he also would on RAB later this year. I decided to take it easy now and ride with him and we chatted away as to tips and the general experience. The road passed through Butleigh where cricket as being played in front of the main house and was a picturesque setting.

Butleigh Court and cricket

We were on our way to Somerton and the final push to Langport and the finish. Chris was even slower than me up the inclines we were on but I was happy to stay with him and recuperate for tomorrow’s ride.

We turned off right and upwards into Somerton that I knew was famous for its railway tunnel but seems I was wrong. I never knew it was the Royal Capital of Wessex!

Royal capital of Ancient Somerset

I cannot ever recall visiting here but the town was very neat and tidy as we rode through it

: Centre of Somerton

We nearly took a wrong turn as we had a fork in the centre of the town with no directional arrow, however we rode on along a long drag climb where our peace was being disturbed by a loudspeaker coming up from behind. I had no clue what it was a ringtone, radio or whatever but I had one of the most coincidental moments of my life. The tune blaring out from behind was that of the Dallas TV theme, a tune I had had to hum/sing with a colleague to those in the office who didn’t know what we were talking about.

In the cacophony of noise the van came passed us at it was being driven as a support vehicle for the Black Widows Cycling Club. This was getting surreal. Nevertheless, we rode on and eventually one last downhill lead us into Langport and the finish for the day.

I was glad to get back where I met up with the Black Widows again and mentioned the van experience to much merriment. However I then noticed the lady rider from Black widows I was having a laugh with had my Maratona helmet also. Seems I’ve been there and got the T-Shirt, she bless her bought the helmet in the sale!.

I bought a coffee and a coke to drink before heading back to the car and the return to our hotel in Bridgwater contemplating the ride tomorrow.

Day Two 120 miles: Cerne Abbas and the Giant, Isle of Purbeck, Corfe Castle and Milton Abbey

Today’s ride didn’t start too well when I read the apologetic overnight email from the organisers that High5 energy drink suppliers had not delivered the drink supplements for the feed stations. I wasn’t too bothered as I don’t use them but only water would be available. This though was the portent of things to come.

I arrived at Huish Episcopi and parked up ready to meet Kevin from the previous day in order to ride with him for as long as I could. I was travelling along roads that I had never ridden before and was looking forward to it.

Gathering at the start we met each other and set off in a group possibly third on the road out of the start and at what can only be described as a blistering pace. It is easy to sit in on groups and not pedal too hard and yet find yourself motoring along with minimal effort.

It was overcast and cool and I was determined to ride for as long as I could with them knowing it was 120 miles long today and just hang in for the remainder of the ride. The added problem was that the timing system was to be shut down at 5.30pm. You had to back by then to register you time with an extra hour or so of riding.

The road was quick before we turned off towards Ilchester where we overtook a number of cyclists who left earlier. I was content to just piggy back chatting to Kevin ever mindful of the wheels in front of me. I don’t like riding so close not knowing what is coming up hence my tendency to be second or third wheel.

On we ploughed head down eating up the road until we turned left and short punchy climb where I fell away. I just couldn’t keep up and think my chest infection didn’t help. Once over the top the road became a back road that was typical of the roads all day, hedge lined single track road that meandered through the countryside.

I noticed I was riding alongside a young lady rider called Hannah, I know it’s becoming a habit but she was immaculately turned out in colour coordinating kit. All matched the trim on her bike, handlebar tape, shoes everything! I have to say it was a good look. We seemed to ride along together although she “escaped” in a group on a long drag climb into Yeovil only for me to catch up as we swooped down to Yeovil junction railway station.

I realised I hadn’t taken many photos but we’d been travelling at a fair old pace and besides the weather wasn’t brilliant and the surroundings weren’t photogenic.

On the road to Ilchester

As Hannah and I rode up a climb I could hear some music coming along behind and though I hadn’t seen the Black Widows yet, I knew exactly who it was and sure enough here came the van up the road behind. I noticed there was a lady rider sat in the front seat who presumably had been picked up.

On cresting the top and a rundown the hill they were parked on a junction triangle and I gave them all a thumbs up as the road carried on uneventfully until a train came passed and yet again I was dropped on a short climb. It must be concerted strong effort above my normal pace that any gradient I suffer as there really was nothing there.

As we broke out of one section of trees the landscape change into one I was familiar with when driving the Dorset roads in the South. Hills that are ridges for miles and miles. They are similar to the area around Mere on the A303.

Dorset Hills

I then realised we must be near Cerne Abbas famous for one thing and sure enough we turned left with the sign for viewing area. I stopped for a photo and as I did so I heard from my left “Martin?, it is Martin isn’t it? Rob’s mate.” I looked at saw a chap in a RAB jersey. He approached me and said “Paul from the Coke in the garage stop, I thought I recognised the bike.” “Day Eight my bad day” I replied. ” Yes you were struggling that day.” We briefly chatted but what are the odds of me meeting another RAB’er out for a day’s ride with a couple of mates at that moment in time in the same place when I’m on event and one that I rode with too. I took a picture of the infamous giant albeit he needs some attention, said cheerio and moved on to the village of Cerne Abbas itself.

There’s the Giant

With Paul Bryant 2018 RABer

The village was pretty nice to view but I was going too quickly and trying to catch up with my group again to stop but any sense of niceness was blown away when turning right and straight into a very uncomfortable climb called Piddle Lane. I don’t know about Piddle but I nearly did something else when I saw this one. Boy into the bottom gear I just held on for my life. So many of us were struggling up through a canopy of trees hoping for any semblance of respite but no! On and on, churning the gear I was not having a ball. As we came out of the trees I noticed Hannah had stopped on the right, she said she was ok. I was determined not to crack and carried on gasping for any breath to heave myself up. The gradient was around 17-20%. I’ve done these in my sleep but I was really struggling. The road curved to the right and still went upwards but then the gradient relented. I started to judge about 30 more turns of the pedals and counted them down before I could rest and coast to get my breath back. That was a rude awakening and to greet us also was the event photographer at the top. Wonderful!

The road now carried on along the top of a ridge onwards towards the Dorset south coast, typical farming land and on to Piddletrenthide, what a name! I was now pretty much cycling on my own as we rode on but yet to get to the first feed stop. I was ready for something to eat by now.

More Dorset Hills

A short run down an open valley lane we double backed on ourselves to climb up another ridge. As I started to climb I heard “We are going left left left here boys!” I looked to my left and a small group of 5 riders was coming up behind nattering away. “All I can hear are the clicking of gears” one said. Their voices carried booming down the valley and lanes in the broadest Welsh accent you have ever heard. “All I can hear is a Welsh accent” I replied in probably the worst imitation accent. They laughed their heads off as they sped on making the climb look effortless.

On I travelled and was momentarily confused by the sign for Dewlish. I mean come on I was in Dorset not my local Dawlish! Once through we went on a downhill to Milborne St Andrew where we turned right and into the local football field for the first feed stop after some 43 miles of riding. It was then that things really started to go wrong.

: Football field

I filled my water bottles up and joined the queue for food. The trays were pretty sparse with the same pork pies fig rolls and scotch eggs. I asked for a banana but they had run out of stock. “What about jelly babies?” I asked. Again run out. You what? This is a three day event and you’ve run out of basic cycling food stuff on the morning of day two. You look at the trays of food on offer that is total drivel and I’ve got about another 80 miles to ride. This was ridiculous. I could not believe what was happening. Perhaps I’d been spoilt on RAB but I’ve had better on rides that are 1/3rd cheaper in entry price and received a meal at the finish too! I was angry big time.

My anger was tempered by my Black Widow lady who came up to me and we smiled saying “hello ” again with a friendly hug and she too was annoyed with the food situation although was partial to malt loaf. That was about the only thing worth eating!

Having messaged Diane to say where I was I set off again down the lanes only to be passed by an absolute maniac in an Audi. We all could not believe how stupid and inconsiderate he was. No deceleration down a narrow lane, passing a line of cyclists, tooting where some were two abreast and slamming his brakes on.

I soon discovered I had a free loader behind me who just sat on my wheel venturing out to chat as we turned right at Bere Regis straight into a climb. He never took the front where the wind really was starting to blow. We were joined by another rider as the surroundings became more barren and heath like interspersed with the odd copse come forest. We were near Bovington Tank museum and also signs for “Live firing” and “Tank crossings”. We were on our way towards Lulworth and the tank firing range.

On a short climb , I was dropped by the other two as I needed so respite. Whether Id ridden to hard yesterday or at the start I wasn’t sure. The wind had taken its toll and I sat in. I soon approached the climb of the day. It was up the coast road towards Tyneham and the Isle of Purbecks. As I look back the climb isn’t hard but a a long grind. To the left of the typically wire fenced road is the firing range and to the right ground to climb up to the cliff edge.

I wasn’t travelling well as the odd car came up and down the cliff road. Steeper sections were thankfully blessed with shallower bits for recovery. Then I heard some familiar chat as the Black Widows came up behind me with “Hello Mr Ribbon man” and then effortlessly ploughed on. As the road completed an S bend I could see Poole Harbour in a form of sunlight shining to my 11 o clock and then to my right the English Channel. It was a shame it wasn’t sunny as it would have been stunning.

Up the Lulworth Cove climb

On the top with Poole Harbour in the distance

To the Channel

With the Black Widows snaking away into the distance I dutifully did the best smile I could for the photographer and spun out to the top and regrouped slightly before the ever increasing descent on the other side.

Just as i was enjoying the benefits of my hard work we came across a junction to turn right and there were cars aplenty but in the middle of the triangle were my Plymouth Corrie boys. I checked they were ok before ploughing on towards the village of Steeple that nestles in the valley below.

On my ride yesterday I was saddened by the amount of roadkill I had seen from deer to rabbits, hedgehogs, leave alone badgers and today this became even sadder. As I rode a slight descent, I saw a kestrel fly down and pop on to the road in front of me for a morsel. On sensing me coming it flew off but straight into the grill of an oncoming 4×4. I am a great animal lover at heart and was disturbed by this for awhile.

The road was narrow and I couldn’t let this distract me as we suddenly burst out into into the hills that surround Corfe castle.

Corfe castle

I admit one car driver tooted at me as I rode down taking this photo but come on!

Hitting a T junction it seemed everyone was out today as the queue of cars to get into the castle stretched for miles back up the road. I did however catch up with the Black widows again here and rode up the climb to the main road and roundabout before turning off on to a common road again and Hartland Nature reserve.

I lost my Widow friends here again but all along here was met by mountain bikers with camping kit on and fat bikes. What ride they were on I don’t know but I carried on passing the Widows who’d stopped for a food and drink break. I took a can of Coke from my pocket and drank this. My issue was that we had a cut off time of 5.30, my Garmin was telling me that my ETA was ever increasing so I was getting slower. I felt okay but couldn’t generate power. I carried on up and down typical moorland road and drag a lady too who was slip streaming me so I must have been doing ok.

We turned right and on over the River Frome into Wareham. Here I should have stopped for some food but I’d been joined by the widows again and decided to follow them if only to gain speed time and more ground bearing in mind the cut off and time. I was absolutely starving with hunger pains in my stomach. I had some food but nothing that would satisfy my hunger.

Naturally I lost the Widows eventually, I couldn’t come up with any strength and just rode on through the lanes hoping for the feed station. The weather didn’t help as it closed in and I was feeling uncomfortable. many a hamlet came and went. Many a cyclist passed me as i continued my way. Normally I know where feed stops are but this event was it seemed so randomly organised i hadn’t a clue. Your Garmin downloads of the route weren’t all correct so i had no idea where the feed would be.

I turned left and found a downhill through some trees that opened out into the wonderful village of Milton Abbas. the long straight road bisected the dwellings and I found the event photographer here and almost stopped at the tea rooms that were open for something but had so much speed I bypassed it unfortunately as this would impact my cut off time. No allowance was made for the extra 20 miles today with the leave and finish times.

Milton Abbas

Milton Abbas church

Coming down Milton Abbas High street

I turned right and found a small climb through some trees where I heard voices coming up behind as I was caught again. This though lead to a sweeping descending curving road that passed Milton Abbey where cricket was also being played.

Milton Abbey and cricket

I was struggling with some 80 miles done and all I wanted was food. The villages of Hilton where I thought the feed was, Higher Ansty all came and went interspersed with hedge lined roads that were pretty bland and all the same, I was almost delirious.

As I turned one corner and started a downhill at Hazelbury Bryan there was the feed station sign and so I dived in. To my consternation it was the same fare. I wanted to shout out loud about them. I had ridden 50 miles (far too long) since the last feed and all on offer was the same drivel, I couldn’t believe it. This feed also served as the first feed on the short route and so any decent stuff will have been eaten. this was shabby to say the least.

I noticed a lady stood in front of the Black Widows support van, who’d had a mechanical earlier that I saw when riding with Hannah. “You’ve had a long day” I said. “Yes” she replied “but my husband has come to pick me up. can i make you a coffee?” this was too good to be true. In the support van was a coffee making machine. I gladly accepted for a caffeine hit and then saw my Black Widow friends who introduced me to Richard the van support. He had cold Fanta, energy drink, chocolate bars, cake, cooking pan for a wrap with couscous or something. I was in heaven. I became an honorary Black Widow and tucked in to an amount sufficient not to be too greedy. It was absolutely brilliant and would hopefully see me home. Richard is an international pilot and from Plymouth so he was just helping out a Devonian I think. I’ll forgive his city of birth as an Exonian, he was an absolute star!

Richard the BWCC support – fantastic

I took an energy drink from him to put in my pocket and have with about 10/15 miles to go. “Good idea” Richard had said. Off I went before the Widows, hoping for them to pick me up and I could tag along.

As I rode along similar roads I felt better but as the Widows came passed me the rain started and they stopped to put rain jackets on. I ploughed on passed as I had a gilet on and felt it would pass and so it did after a mile or so. They passed me again in jovial spirits only to stop and take their jackets off this time!

A short climb saw me dropped by them as the clouds got darker and i was left to cycle on my own up and down dale on towards Sherborne. A quick descent lead us to a fork junction where the descent allowed you to speed along a road parallel to the town. this place still haunts me of one of my worst school cricket defeats. Enough said save it was a 160 run drubbing! A bad day as captain to say the least.

We skirted around the town up through a housing estate only to drop down to a road that double backed on yourself Marston Hill, couldn’t we have just gone through the town?

Into Sherborne again after a detour

As I crested the top I took the energy drink and drank it and was pleasantly surprised. Not something I would have but fizzy and tasted okay, made from vegetables.

We crossed the main A359 and soon the land opened up to show a typical military runway surrounded by fencing, HMS Heron or to you and me RNAS Yeovilton. The road bisects the base and I caught up a RABer here as I saw the ribbon on his saddlebag. I chatted from behind and he replied “Martin?” “Yes” I replied and it was Chris from yesterday. We rode through the base but had to stop initially at a set of temporary lights. We though wanted to get back and went a bit cross country onto a pedestrianised bit that allowed for bikes too.

At the end of the base it was a short hop to the roundabout at Ilchester and the homeward stretch to Langport. the rain abated slightly as I rose up towards Langport and the final 3 mile section. I was just glad to be back and turned into the college went over the timing mat with 45 minutes or so to spare and shouted my disgust at our treatment over a 120 mile course. The lack of food, energy drinks and distance between them was truly torturous. I was just thankful that it wasn’t 20+ degrees as it was on the Saturday, that would have been interesting.

Everyone I spoke to agreed it was shambolic and awful even my Black Widow friend said the same and in the end we had to laugh.

I drove back to the hotel seriously contemplating abandoning day 3 because of this. In the end I decided not to give them the satisfaction.

Day Three: The Quantocks, Exmoor and Porlock Toll Hill

I had woken in the night worried about day 3. The lack of food or decent food was plaguing me and I couldn’t sleep. At some stage I decided not to ride the 110 miles and only do the 60 mile short route. I couldn’t stomach feeling like yesterday especially on the drivel they were serving up. Diane suggested cycling home from Bridgwater but no I would ride but only the short route.

I travelled having picked up some bananas from the hotel breakfast and extra cans of coke to put into my back pocket and so ditch my rain jacket for room and joined the masses for one last push.

The road initially takes you out to Othery on the same road as day one but now we turned off earlier and on to Westonzoyland that is apparently home to the penultimate battle on English soil, The Battle of Sedgemoor and last of the Monmouth Rebellion. I knew it was around here but not here specifically and it had an airfield used in World War 2.

Anyway back on the levels I got in a train of some 50 riders motoring along to Bridgwater and this was a godsend as there was a headwind. On the approaches to the town a rider fell some 10 infront of me and crashed causing a bit of mayhem. It must have been a sight seeing so many of us passing through the town. At one set of lights we were stopped on red so I got out a banana and shouted.”I’ll start the bidding at £100″ holding it up for all to see and everyone started laughing around me.

Still the road twisted and turned over the River Parrett before we climbed out on towards the Quantocks. These hills are tough and have a couple of nasty climbs in them but in for a penny. I was comfortable as the road climbed and we all seemed to break up. My Plymouth Corries came passed me only to stop and put their jackets on as the rain now started.

I short downhill found me at Hawkridge Reservoir.

Hawkridge Reservoir

We were headed for the brilliantly named Over Stowey as opposed to Nether Stowey where the road became sodden under the dark clouds.

Getting wet

As I continued I caught a couple of lady riders who insisted on being photographed when all i wanted was the church. You know I love these pictures

Did you get me?

Over Stowey

Over Stowey Church

The gradient ramped up as I saw a sign for Cothelstone that would be our climb later but we now carried on towards Crowcombe. I have done Crowcombe from the South but never the North side. I was in for a treat! How this side isn’t in the 100 Greatest climbs I don’t know.

Crowcombe

Quantock Common

The road just became a wall and many a cyclist was zig zagging in front of me. I engaged the lowest gear and was determined not to yield despite my coughing becoming more prevalent. As we approached a cattle grid we all went off to the right to go through the tarmac bit since the gate was open rather than engage the metal that was slippy of the grid. Once through this we entered the tree lined section. One guy just sped passed me like a bullet. How do they do it?

I concentrated on turning my pedals and as I carried on passing a couple of slower riders than me heard the familiar voice coming up behind with the usual greeting, “Hello ribbon man!” she was motoring as were all the Widows. I finally asked her name “Lucy” she replied, “Martin” I said. “You are looking good up here!” I shouted. “Thank you” was the reply as she and her crew blasted up the hill. There was a slight breather on a level bit before it ramped again and my wheels were just going slower and slower into the forest above.

After some considerable time the crest was nigh and i breathed a sigh of relief as the road traversed the common at the top. I could see the pink jerseys of the widows moving swiftly in the distance but there was one straggler. I kept in touch with him hoping to catch them one more time as I was on the shorter route to say thank you. Sure enough they were waiting at the start of the descent where I caught up and thanked them.

The BWCC at the top of Crowcombe and Lucy

I proudly showed off my Maratona gilet to match our helmets before I started to tackle the descent. I was dreading it as it had been raining, but thankfully it was as dry as a bone. Even still it is not to be messed with. I rode this on a wet day and at 25% it was not nice then! Any road with an escape road tells you all you need to know.

Enough said!

The descent showing the 25%

I chatted to Lucy one last time as we passed through the village believing the course split was now to come. It wasn’t but I didn’t mind I felt comfortable with my decision, let them go and then carried on through the undulating roads just looking for the split. Narrow and uncompromising the roads were not necessarily a joy to ride as you could never settle. Indeed yet another German make of car driver was and absolute prat. I could see a car waiting to come down so put out my hand to advise him to slow or stop as he couldn’t see round a slight bend. He didn’t slow up or care and passed we with little room and forced the other car back.

Anyway I loved the brilliantly named Stogumber village that we went through and we carried on until the split. The turning left would save the 50 mile loop and I couldn’t face it as the hunger pangs came back, What was good was in turning left I had a tailwind on a fast open road. I saw Richard coming down the hill in the BW van, waved and soldiered on before riding like a man possessed down and onward towards Bishops Lydeard, the prelude to Cothelstone and the climb back up to the Quantocks.

I checked on one rider who seemed to have a puncture but was okay and entered the village. I saw one rider bomb passed me but thought you wait mate Ill be catching you soon! Cothelstone is a highlight climb on RAB. It is incessant although not as bad as Crowcombe. The middle section is the hardest bit. A long meandering road sucks you in passed the entrance to a manor and church.

On the way to Cothelstone

Cothelstone Manor

I sat in and ground it out all the way looking back to the Blackdown Hills

To the Blackdown Hills

The road turned to the right to see the middle section that is not nice. Sure enough the speed merchant was criss-crossing the road struggling up to the top

Cothelstone middle section

Main bit done

Once over it you go on a false flat to the very top where the Deloitte RAB team are cheering you to the top. I pulled over at the car park and drank my can of Coke since i had anticipated the feed station at Bishops Lydeard.

At the very top

As I stood there a girl came along and said “is this the feed station?” “No, I stopped for this!” I said. We chatted how poor the feeds were before setting off and at a short descent and road junction we found the feed station. My god it was poor!

Last feed on this event -thank Christ

I ate a pork pie and scotch egg and set off again with my new friend and set off for the last 18 or so miles. The descent was magnificent and quick though not as steep as Crowcombe. I seemed to drop my friend here as she was more circumspect I suppose and little did I know that this would be my last significant downhill on my pride and joy.

We turned left on to the flatter section on our way to Taunton and I eased off to enable my friend to catch up. She said her husband was doing the long route and she had given all her gels and food to him so didn’t have much for her ride in view of the poor standard of food on offer.

I noticed on climbs she wasn’t very quick so I always held back as we cycled the back lanes. However we seemed to miss a turning as did a few other cyclists and we found ourselves as a group of 5 off course. I knew they way back if only that it was the busy road to Street. We all agreed to ride it but 2 riders had absolute carbon fibre machines and tapped out an incredible rhythm. I kept checking on my friend who seemed to drop off the back. I held back and said to her “You go in front Ill seat on your wheel in view of the cars.”

She was grateful and we ploughed on together along the flat roads. We came to Burrow bridge and were caught by the lights and had to wait for a bit before taking the short climb up to Othery and turning right for Langport. We had about 5 miles left and so just eased along and I was ever mindful where she was as she wasn’t sure of her route back.

The time passed quickly and soon we entered Langport and back to the school where we crossed the line to relief that we were back. I pulled up to Diane in the car and my friend popped over to say thank you and gave me an appreciative hug for getting her back okay. It was a pleasure.

I collected my medal for completion and drove home still annoyed with the overall ride. The courses were brilliant as you got full value for your hard work. It is just a shame taht the event has hit some problems and so many of us were unhappy with the standard of feedstations and also lack of organised mechanical support.

Did i cheat myself for not doing the full 110 miles on day 3, maybe but I feel cheated out of the full event by substandard support. My anger has turned to heartbreak as I cleaned my trusty steed to discover a potential crack on my seat post where the rear stay joins it. My fears were confirmed by my local bike shop and something that has given me so much joy has had to go to the great bike shop in the sky. I just hope I can find something as good for September. Time is precious now.

Memories of a fantastic bike

: In pink!

: 2018

: St Michael’s Mount

Gospel calling

Leave a reply

The Black Rat is a friendly ride that I have ridden before and last time some 2 or 3 years ago was from Clifton Rugby club. I like rides that change their routes and the Black Rat certainly has done that, initially a Mendips ride to the 3 bridges and now from Thornbury near Bristol into Wales.

I had signed up for the long 100 miles route that would take in the Gospel pass, the highest road pass in Wales and near Hay on Wye in the Brecon Beacons. It is one of the “Another 💯 Greatest climbs” but only if done the opposite way, that would be our descent. The bonus at the finish is that Black Rat is a maker of that liquid that Somerset is famous for, cider, lovely jubbly.

I had also arranged to meet other riders from DACE, Devon Amateur Cycling Enthusiasts who I had ridden with recently and also Paul Mortimer from Greenover another Torbay based cycling group. Diane could also go and visit Edward in Newport, as I indulged myself.

Meeting at Cullompton services, we drove up to Marlwood School where I got my number 077 and timing chip that was quite old school rather than the label to the helmet, but heyho!

I was ready early to let Diane go off before the start but I looked for the others but couldn’t see them. I decided to set off as if I had missed them well that was ok but knew they would catch me if I left before them.

A very short briefing about potholes, I was off in quite a large group turning right onto the road that would lead us to Aust and the old Severn bridge. It is a gentle descent on largely traffic free roads and I settled in quite happy though felt myself coughing regularly.

As we got to the bridge I saw a guy riding in a Maratona jersey and as we bunched up to negotiate the path up to the bridge and the metal barriers, I chatted to him about that ride. I must return there to experience the best event again.

Big bunch in front

On the way to the bridge on the tree line

Slip road to the bridge

I know this bit like the back of my hand and I was thankful the weather was pleasant. Though there was a wind nothing too strenuous and the views were good down to the second bridge.

Over the Severn

New Severn Bridge in the distance

The Severn crossing is also on RAB from last year and is a treat to ride. We all concertinaed at the calming measures to take the cycle path into Wales and Monmouthshire before the descent to the middle of Chepstow.

Into Monmouth

Lights in Chepstow

We were only 5 or 6 miles into the ride but we were quite a bunch. At the lights I knew we turned left and chose the right gear as it was a climb to the top roundabout, whereas RAB we go straight on under the walled arch to the castle.

When the lights turned green I forged to the front to get a good position as we climbed up to the roundabout to take the road past the racecourse and onwards towards Tintern.

Chepstow Racecourse

It was now I felt a bit sluggish but kept going as we turned off at St Arvans an hit a short punchy climb up out of Chepstow on our way to Devauden. I found myself coughing my insides up. From on high someone walking shouted “Go on lad get it up!” as I climbed up to much merriment from riders behind mainly Portishead CC who were ubiquitous.

I got to the top and was on the undulating road to Devauden that was punctuated by many a climb that was easy but telling on the legs. As I rode up one, I recognised a white shirt with black and green trim come past me. It was the DACE boys so I said hello and tagged along as I had intended.

Nice undulating road

Chepstow Park Wood

As usual I found myself in the position I always like second or third wheel but we motored along and saw one field full of bluebells, they are a picture at the moment wherever you go. Fields are mauve as opposed to blue. Interspersed with these fields were the local wooded sections such as Chepstow Park Woods and with sky blue with wispy clouds, it was brilliant.

On the front

Bluebells

All too soon we turned left towards Raglan plunging to the floor from the ridge down passing villages of Llanishen before hitting Raglan. The valley floor was into a headwind, awkward energy sapping in the main.

Raglan

I remember coming to Raglan as a young boy to see the castle nearby that was poking out of the hedge. Wales has a rich history of castles that were built around the Norman times but this was built at a later time around 1500 and perhaps this is one of the lesser known ones. I couldn’t stop today as we turned off the roundabout and on to the motorcycle freeway to Usk and Abergavenny where as usual bikers came passed revving their engines.

Raglan Castle

The problem I now encountered was that Paul, Andy and Dan appeared to drop me somewhere, where Oz, Gavin and Mike were behind. Try as I might I couldn’t bridge to the front three. I should have dropped off and ridden with the others but my pride got the better of my common sense as usual and it was tough riding into the wind.

Can’t catch them

In the distance we could see the imminent problem of the Brecon Beacons. At least they were looking good in the conditions and we were soon taking the short descent into the gateway to them Abergavenny and the first feed station.

The feed wasn’t too bad but heaving with all the riders since we hadn’t really spread out. That generally occurs after the first feed.

Suitably refreshed we started off again up the high street and now for the next 15 to 20 miles a steady climb to the top of Gospel Pass.

Abergavenny High Street

The road snaked through the centre and included one set of temporary lights where we decided to go cross country on the pavement. On takin* a right turn we started a sharp climb with calming measures that past King Henry VI school. I wasn’t prepared for this one and found it tough with my head just full of my cold. Anyway I made it up and the road significantly narrowed to a country lane.

Travelling as a group we carried on being sucked further and further into the valley. We turned left after a road closure to a single track road that would take us all the way to the top. This road wasn’t difficult to ride but twisted, turned short inclines, S bends you name it it was there. Complete with potholes and shingle in the middle and side made for tricky riding on a relentless incline, but only 3% average that was quite taxing. I was reminded of Glenshee but this was more claustrophobic , hedges interspersed with forest trees punctuated by the odd hamlet.

At one point Mike caught a puncture and stopped but Dan, Gavin and myself carried on so as not to lose momentum as we perhaps would be the slower riders.

Gavin and I just chatted away to pass the time and take our mind off it and at one point we came across 3 riders with full panniers and touring bikes. It took an age to catch and pass them we were so weary of the climb, well I was anyway.

After we past through Capel-y-ffin with its wooden chapel and one building the road seemed to ramp slightly and we broke out onto the open moorland, more exposed with very few trees but plenty of the usual suspects you would find in these parts 🙂

Struggling up the exposed parts

Familiar Welsh being

As the gradient increased I became more laboured and zig-zagged slightly up to the cattle grid that really did signify the exposed landscape. Every breath was followed by a cough as I ground out the climb ’til the gradient eased. However you could now see the long narrow road winding its way to a cleft in the hills above. Was this the top?

Barren and still going to the top?

Where we’d come from

The road was quite a good surface but revealed a long steady line of cyclists labouring ever onwards and upwards.

At a layby I stopped to take some pictures and a guy said go further on.

There’s more?

On I ploughed to the gap and saw Dan and Gavin waiting at the side where I joined them and the view was stunning to the flatter English lands in the distance if only that the sunny was shining without a cloud in the sky.

View from the top

Waiting at the top

Here and not for long we waited for the others to catch us up where Oz took a photo of us all. What an effort after 1 hour and 15mins of climbing. I just wished I wasn’t feeling as I did so I could have enjoyed it more.

DACE at the top of Gospel Pass

After a brief stop for water and food we set off on the long descent before us. I quite brilliant road. Though narrow being so high you could see where it was going all the way for a good mile and a half. With no traffic coming up at this point you just let the wheels flow here.

Gospel descent

I lead for part of the way, though fancied stopping at the ice cream van before I was passed by Oz and a couple of other riders just before the road plummeted down through the tree line. I shaved my pace off and that was a godsend.

One of the riders to pass me suddenly came across mad BMW driver coming the other way who did not relent in his speed on a single track road. Boy how he survived not crashing and going head first over the top I do not know. we all gave the driver what for into his window that was wound down but typically he didn’t care.

We hit a triangle junction where we needed to turn right but the road was full of shingle and we overshot the turn and found ourselves all in the wrong gear to hit a steepish climb. I had to go back down to turn around to engage the right gear to find I was now lagging behind all the others. I could see Gavin just ahead and tried to keep him in view. The problem was the road was like the climb up Gospel, it twisted and turned with hidden little horrible climbs. I would lose Gavin as he crested the tops and I made it up or round bends but catch up as I hit the next one.

Still we had turned for the long drag home to Bristol. I was feeling sh!t now and with hindsight should not have ridden as the road finally levelled or had a semblance of going down the valley.

Homeward bound

Away from Hay-on-Wye

The clouds looked ominous where we were heading and as we turned right found myself descending quickly to an almighty steep hill at Craswall. Not nice but at the top of the 100 yards or so were the DACE boys just by an old telephone box. I stopped and slumped over the front and Andy said “Alright?” ” Just” I replied to which Gavin responded ” Here you are the first number is 9!” To which one of the others replied ” the last is 9″. Banter or what and I couldn’t help smiling.

After waiting, I followed Gavin in second wheel down the valley further until we got to Longtown and the second feed stop. The problem was we hit a superb downhill that we felt was the reward for all the hard work and halfway down it was the feed stop. We slammed the brakes on before heading in to the field come driveway to replenish but knowing that what was coming was the long drag home to finish the ride off.

Starting off again we almost missed the turn sign in Longtown but on we ploughed. I really was starting to suffer and though I kept up could feel it would last for long every climb was taking its toll on me. Whilst the others weren’t motoring up them they were significantly quicker apart from Gavin who like before was just tantalisingly in front of me. It was good to have him as a marker. Every time I did catch up he asked it I was ok but I just kept on turning the wheels.

As I struggled up another of the hidden gems I was passed by a guy who said “Is that last year’s shirt?”. ” Yes” I said to a rider who was obviously a fellow RABer. We chatted briefly and I said I was going back again in September. ” Good on you” he replied.

I was prepared to just ride now not to take photos as the road was quite a fast one where you felt that cars would be travelling. I did laugh out loud as I passed the local pub in Ewyas Harald called the “Dog Inn” that nobody else saw.

Crossing the main A465, having regrouped at temporary lights, we immediately hit a climb that was gentle before ramping up again and I just struggled. I had nothing in my legs at all to even think about a concerted effort. I had thoughts about whether I could complete my forthcoming rides and for first the first time doubts about RAB in September I felt that bad. Mike suddenly appeared from behind me and he had stopped to visit a hedge if you get my drift. Anyway he stayed with me for a bit as we caught Gavin, before he powered on to the others in front and left Gavin and me to it.

As before I kept Gavin in my sights as the road undulated and turned on its way to Monmouth. It was a quick road that despite my condition was a joy. I kept looking at the signs for the mileage to Monmouth and pleasantly surprised how I was travelling.

Before long I was on a thunderous descent into Monmouth with Gavin in front. I knew now whatever strength I had would be tested. Fortunately the traffic in Monmouth wasn’t too bad but we turned right before the main A449 and over a bridge over said road to take us to the last big climb of the day, Trellech. It takes you back up to the ridge at Devauden and remember this having ridden the Wye Valley warrior 7 years ago. Long at 2 miles a relentless gradient with an S bend in the middle you can see it veering off to the right.

I just sat in and pedalled the best I could. I was spurred on by riders who passed me but I kept up with them apart from a young lady in an Oxford University CC top. She went up effortlessly. I swung left and on to the right hand bend where the event photographer was before tackling the worst bit of the climb, a long, long, long steady gradient into the wooded section about 3/4rs of a mile away. The problem was that there must have been a BMW car show or day out as we seemed to be passed by around 20 to 30 of them all flash, convertibles and i8 roadsters accelerating with loud exhausts. They were an absolute pain I can tell you when you have nothing to give but head down , feeling low and grinding out the gradients.

Eventually into the trees I rode with Gavin in sight but he turned off left at a junction and I shouted to him he was going wrong. Turns out he stopped for a drink and on I went ever upwards just trying to do the best I could. I saw a sign for Trellech at 2 miles and thought right a little effort now as the last feed station would be in the village hall opposite the church.

It was the same place as the Wye Valley Warrior ride from 2012. I was just glad to rest for a bit with the good humour with the others. After 5 mins or so and stocking up with water we set off along the undulating ridge back to Chepstow. On high there was a very ominous dark cloud in the sky right where we were headed.

I kept up with the crew until the first serious incline and found myself pedalling at the back again. I was so disappointed with myself as I kept coughing along the road. Devauden came and went as did many a field and hedge and I found that Mike dropped off from the group as it was his first 100mile ride since October and we rode on together in fact until the end. It was good to have some company.

I felt the first smattering of rain and became worried as the cloud had got darker. I said to Mike we should see the bridge soon but we had to get over that hill in front somehow. Just as I said it the rain became harder so we stopped to put our rain jackets on before dropping down on to what would be a fast road through a wooded section. However the roads had become a river with the torrent that down rained down on us as we both gingerly descended down with the inevitable queue of cars behind us. My feet despite some oversocks were now wet and squelchy inside my best riding shoes. I was annoyed bigtime.

All of a sudden we found ourselves on the short climb up towards Chepstow racecourse where we turned right and passed on down the main road towards the bridge again. Here the roads were as dry as a bone as if no rain was around. Talk about an isolated shower.

Mike and I helped each other along and before I forgot thanked him for staying with me. The Severn tide had go out as we crested the middle and dropped down to the road we rode out on. The problem now was with wet feet, tired generally uncomfortable we had to turn off the road and onto Tockington for one last climb, Old Hill. I didn’t know it nor what to expect but why do this? You’ve done 95+ miles with some long climbing and you out this in there.

Anyway turning left we rode up it and it wasn’t too bad at around 300m long but annoying at this stage of the ride. At the top we turned right and knew there was about a mile to go. I just coasted along with Mike aching for the finish.

It was a short ride after a left hand to the school where I entered the finish area and crossed the line to see the others sat down with their end of ride fare. Normally a pasty but today a choice of sausage roll or scotch egg from a local butcher. Have to say it wasn’t bad but more importantly, I got my finisher’s mug ( not a glass tankard this year :-() and filled it not once but twice with Black Rat cider. Lovely :-).

Black Rat Mug

We sat down chatting for a short while talking about the ride before heading off home. As I look back I did enjoy it and in the end quite pleased with my overall time of 7 hours 7mins albeit my overall time was longer with feed stops, stopping at the top of Gospel Pass and potential 999 call stops! I thought I was much longer but then riding in a group does help even if I was suffering. Perhaps I was riding at my normal pace overall I don’t know but just hope I can shake my cold before my next adventures.

Thanks to the DACE crew and Paul Mortimer for a really good ride and hope we shall ride again soon.

martinwoolcott63

Well let’s go and do it again 😀🚴💨

Author Archives: martinwoolcott

RAB for the fourth time

RAB for the 4th time

A Gold ride

Black or Drowned Rat

Bombing around the Wellington

Is it Madness? Ride Across Britain 2019 – Part Three

Is it Madness? Ride Across Britain 2019 – Part Two

Is it Madness? Ride Across Britain 2019 – Part One

Tour of #Where’s the food? sorry Wessex

Gospel calling