The Trip!

Day 1: Hendaye to Arudy, 185km

A long and tiring day

Leave Hendaye at 8am and the clock starts ticking, 100 hours to complete the challenge. The first day had been billed as a relatively straightforward day but it turned out to be a really really long day in the saddle. Knowing the challenges of the next few days I was hoping to conserve energy today but the route was a real energy sapper, up and down all day long with an underlying upward drift. Bagged the first Col of the trip, the rather pathetic Col de Saint Ignace, a mere 169m altitude, the highest one bagged today being Col D'Osouich at 507m. Intentionally taking it slower than I would on a single day ride of the same distance was the right strategy but meant the day just dragged on and on, 10 hours of grueling up and down left me pretty wiped by the end of the day, not helped by the last two hours being in torrential rain and on a real bone-shaker of a surface.

Favourite moment of the day was this "Garage Moderne" that I passed...

I thought there would be loads of other cyclists on the course but there were hardly any - it transpires that in the 54 years the event has been run that only 5,500 people have done it. The day I left two others also left, Steve and Graham, nice guys who were planning on doing it in 4 days rather than 4.5 days, we cycled much of day one and two together.

Arrived into Arudy very tired with snow capped mountains in the background warning of the real work that was yet to be done.


Day 2: Arudy to St Marie De Campan, 110km / 130km

Tourmalet? Non!

Very weary this morning, way more tired than I was hoping to be and already wondering whether this trip was doable. Not helped last night by a painful right leg keeping me awake until 4am so 3 hours sleep last night. After yesterdays rain today was perfect weather for climbing - cool with clear blue skies. A shorter day distance-wise but two major climbs - the Aubisque and the Tourmalet, both famous "out of category" Tour climbs. Out the door and into the Pyrenees proper now, with snow capped mountains all around. It's difficult not to feel inspired when you are grinding your way up a famous Col with Tour graffiti all over the road and just amazing scenery all around.

Up the Aubisque - a 16km climb at between 7 and 10%, the first real climb of the trip, 2 hours of grinding up the mountain in the lowest gear, topping out at 1,709m (or a mile high, in proper english).

Most of the major Cols are so high that they had only been finally cleared of snow a few days beforehand (June 6th was the official opening date for most of them, there was still loads of snow by the roadside) and alas when they cleared the Tourmalet of snow they found that part of the road had been smashed by a landslide. We were told that it was impassable by car and passable but dangerous by bike. Steve and Graham both decided to give it a go and if I was in their position I would have done the same - they've never been touring before and the Tourmalet is one of *the* climbs to do. Myself however I went over it last year in the Etape and felt that safety rather than glory would be preferable and found a route around it, courtesy of a dual carriageway into Lourdes from which I was escorted off (apparently this dual carriageway is treated as a motorway, I had indeed pretended not to see the "bikes prohibited" notice...) and then cutting across country on some lovely quiet roads before ending up in Bagneres, 20 km north of my intended destination. Alas I had been on this last 20km in the Etape last year and I knew it was 20km pretty much continually uphill, a long long drag to finish the day off. Steve & Graham did make it over the top but had to carry their bikes for quite a way and said it was pretty dicey in places. It's a shame that I didn't get to go over it again but that's easy to say in hindsight - at the time it felt the right decision. The route was meant to have been 110km with circa 3,000m of climbing, I did 130km with I reckon around 2,200m of climb.

Went past this mildly humorous village name en route:


Day 3: St Marie de Campan to Massat: 175km.

Matter over Mind

Woke up early and the mind was raring to go, said mind sprung out of bed at 5.30am. The legs however were shot and wanted a lie in. The mind even went downstairs to see if the bike was where I left it but the legs were grateful to find that the guest house owner had locked it away. The legs thus won the battle and went back to bed. Got going finally at 7.15am with a lively mind and unlively legs which liked me even less when 500m from the start we start a long and pretty hard climb up the Aspin - a 8km climb at a 5%, then the top 5km at around 8%. Then down the other side and then up a 8km climb at 4 to 5% back up the Peyresourde, topping out at 1,563m - a good "power climb" in a much higher gear than normal given the lower gradient.

This is one of my favourite photos from the trip - the early morning cloud bending over the top of the snow capped mountain.

Over another couple of Cols and then the final one was Col de Portet - a short climb, only 4km or so, but now in the heat of the day and a bit of a beast of a section in the middle, topping out at 17%. I will admit that the 4km climb was done with 5 pit stops to cool down and get the heart rate down to normal again, it was by far the toughest climb of the trip. Even on the 30km decent into Massat it was now so hot that I was stopping every 5km or so to cool down, over the course of the day I think I drunk 12 litres of water in total, as soon as it went in it just got sweated out again. The final 30km was along a river valley in the shade and as always happens to me when I get into the shade I cool down a bit and can start motoring a bit more - this was a lovely "second wind" head down blast along the valley, all the way home.

Day three was definitely my favourite day of the trip, hardly any traffic on the roads, a few really nice climbs and a blast along the valley.

One thing that has been *very* noticeable on this trip is just how totally empty all the guest houses and restaurants are - all the brits and americans are staying at home this year. The guest house in Massat had 30 rooms of which I was the only guest. It's dinner room had seats for 100 and there were just 6 people dining - this has been the same every night at every stop - everywhere is just totally empty. Massat typifies a Pyrenean village - it's a village of circa 500 people but normally has such a large tourist population that it supports a mini-mart, butcher, baker (no candlestick maker), organic shop, garage, tourist info centre etc etc - how they will get through the next 12 months or so and the effect it will have on villages such as this one really wonders.

Very tired now and pretty sunburnt. Saddle sores galore, stiff shoulders, stiff wrists, a blister on my right hand and an almost complete lack of sensation below the waistline. If it wasn't for such a nice route today I think I'd be thinking of packing it in now, the fatigue is just too much.

Day 4: Massat to Prades, 180km

A big long grind

I'm glad tomorrow is the last day, it's been an epic trip and one I've been training for for 9 months now pretty solidly. It has however also been a pretty major grind at times with big long days in the saddle just to do the distance, without any downtime to stop or relax - it's been get up, get on the bike, ride hard all day, get in, dinner, bed.

Today was billed as a bit of a grind and sure enough it was. Setting off at 6am to avoid the heat of the day up a major climb ahead. Directly out of the guesthouse and into the first climb of the day, a lovely 12km climb at 4 to 5% into the thick mountain mist, wolves howling in the surrounding forests up to the Col de Port and back down the other side where the fun of the day promptly ended. Onto a pretty major main road for 20km alongside trucks and cars making their way over to Andorra then starting a really long tiring 30km uphill slog, still mixing it with traffic. None of the climb was hard but it was just really really long - the vertical climb was over a mile - from circa 300m up to 1915m to the top of Col de Puymorens.

Once the traffic turned off into Andorra the last 4km were magical, empty roads and snow capped mountains all around again. Then a fast 30km decent down the other side and back up again to Mont Louis, the last major climb of the trip. Again a nasty climb in traffic, major roadworks etc. The problem with the Raid is that is was designed in 1955 when I'm sure it was a lovely route with minimal traffic - alas this is no longer the case. At one point on Mont Loius a huge double decker cattle truck came past me, initially blasting me with the heatwave coming off the engine as it ground up the mountain - and then cooling me down with a green ammonia smelling spray than I don't think came from the screenwash...

Atop of Mont Louis you are almost 2km up and it's pretty much downhill all the from there for the 130km to the coast. In many ways I was sad to be leaving Mont Louis as that was the last of the major climbs and I do love climbing but my body was degrading badly and telling me it was time to stop this adventure.

A nice 40km downhill cruise (alas still mixing it with the traffic all the way) into Prades and firmly into Catalan country. It seems that whilst the devil may wear Prades in France, they definitely wear Prada in Catalan.




Cracking photo I took of myself in the evening, I was fatigued beyond comprehension by this stage.

Day 5: Prade to Cerbere: 98km

Cutting it close...

Needed to be in Cerbere by 12:00 to hit the 100 hour deadline. Set off 7.30am - 100km in 4.5 hours mainly downhill - really easy. Really easy until I got lost, ended up in a marina, then a holiday village and added 10km to my route. ARGHH. Once I eventually got myself onto the right road and did a timecheck I was about 15 minutes behind schedule (based on my average cruising speed) so it was time for a head down blast along the coast road, checking the distance and time remaining every few minutes to see what I needed to do speedwise to make the cut. I was out of water, I didn't have time to put on any sun lotion - just bang the pedals round for 90 minutes getting burnt and dehydrated. I thought my arrival into Cerbere would be quiet and unnoticed but it was so so nice that Steve & Graham had hung around - they arrived last night and did it in 4 days (quite awesome) so it was high fives all the way down Cerbere high street and straight into a bar for some beers.

So that's it, it's all over, 750km in 99 hours and 52 minutes (how tight was that, 8 minutes under the 100 hour limit!) including circa climbing around 1.2 Everests in terms of vertical ascent - I had a number of highpoints (most of day three, climbing the Aubiqusque & Aspin, the finish and day 6 below) and lots of low points (most of day 1 and 4, too many busy roads, too too tired all the time). It's a major major challenge, one I would recommend to any keen cyclist but if I were to do it again I'd tweak the route somewhat and avoid the traffic and the grind.

Day 6. Cerbere.

Evil.

So I thought that was it, end of my trip, but I had a nice little extra story to share. So there I was having a leisurely breakfast at 9am in Cerbere the morning after when 4 cyclists in Raid kit arrive at the end of their Raid. Morning boys, say I - how on earth did you get here by 9am? (from above, it's around a 4 to 5 hour ride the final morning) and a funny little story emerges - they did the Raid with a group of 18, many of whom are best described as "the shaven legged brigade" - enforced pelotons, alpha male racing up the hills etc - these four were always the last in at night and many of the rest of the group were sneering a little at their pace "3 hours up XYZ Col, wow, we did it in 1.5 hours etc etc". So, on the final morning the four set their alarms for 4.30am and got up and left the hotel in total silence, including vaulting a 5 foot locked steel exit gate in their lycras. Hence they get into Cerbere for 9am - when the first of the shaved boys comes flying down the road at 11am they all stand up, beers in hand, cheer and clap them home with a welcome of "AWESOME, WELL DONE, FIFTH PLACE, YOU MUST BE SO PROUD". Pure evil but a very very funny way of getting their own back, I liked their style immensely. As evidence of just how much fun we had sitting by the med in the morning sunshine waiting for the pack to arrive, here is our table (me plus the four) at 9.50am, two rounds down and the third on the go:



So that's it for another year. Next year I think I'm going to have a more relaxing trip, messing about in the Alps for a few days doing some of the major climbs I've not yet done but I do have something particularly evil in the back of my mind that I'm thinking about for 2011 - it involves a 1,300km non stop bike ride (literally non-stop - no sleep till you finish) from Paris to Brest (the very western tip of Brittany) and back again that has to be completed in 90 hours. It's known in the trade as "The big one". We will see...

It's snot funny

Long Melford 200k, May 23rd

My last planned long ride before easing off a bit for a couple of weeks and at last an almost perfect day for cycling - even from 8am the weather was warm with no risk of rain so all the wet weather kit (jacket, gloves, cape etc) gets left in the car. A new ride on the Audax calendar and a very well attended one, around 60 doing the 200km ride. The route was the ultimate "flat n fast" route, basically pretty much a 80km straight line from Melford out to the east coast, up the coast for 40km or so, past the occasional nuclear power station and turn for home, 80km back again.

The ride itself was a total blast, a pack of around 20 quickly formed and just motored out to the coast into a light headwind, we did the first 120km in 4 hours dead into a nice cafe by the seaside. The last 80km back home were always going to be a bit racy with the flat straight route and now a light tailwind but thankfully whilst the pace was cranked up it didn't get silly and the few times the group fractured up small hills the leaders were nice enough to slow at the top and allow people to catch up and reform. A few people dropped off the back with the pace being too much and after 185km or so I was tiring quite badly but just about hung on to the end, around 8 of us finishing together. The last 80km was dispatched in 2 hrs 10 mins, a brisk average of 37km / hr for the homeward leg.

So, a perfect final training ride. Almost...

...Apart from one guy in the pack who insisted on clearing out his nostrils every few km, just snorting the contents into the air and all over the following pack. Around a dozen times or so I got showered. And hey, what a surprise, two days later and I come down with a bug. Gee thanks - so I spend a week right before my trip full of snot and feeling crap.

So that's it, off in 5 days for some "fun".

DNF

Stonehenge 200km. May 17th.

OK, let me just list out in rough chronological order the things that went wrong on the ride yesterday:

1) It rained. Not just a little bit but big time. Torrential downpour for around 3 hours then gusty showers for the rest of the day.

2) I got wet. Not just a little bit but really really wet. You would not believe how wet.

3) The roads were flooded. Cycling through 2 to 3 inches of water at times, streams running down the sides of roads etc

4) 50km, first puncture. Rear tyre. Why is it always the rear tyre that's the harder of the two to fix?

5) 75km, second puncture. Rear tyre again...

6) 100km lunch stop. Nice plate of bacon eggs and chips. I grab the salt cellar and pour it on the chips. That's quite a big salt cellar I was thinking and hm, the granules are quite big as well. Oh turds, I've just poured a pile of sugar on my chips.

7) "Stonehenge 200km". You know, I was sort of expecting the ride to actually go past Stonehedge. I've never seen it and would like to have. Well, I saw a brown tourist sign pointing to Stonehenge and a tourist bus marked "Stonehenge tour" but that was it. I think we went near it though.

8) Military police. Why did you stop me cycling along the road just so one of your army buddies on some mountain bike event could go across it?

9) Watercress festival??? After 160km the last thing I want is a 5km diversion because a village has shut it's high street to have a watercress festival. Watercress festival? Please.

10) 165km my trip computer packs up. Waterlogged probably. Not helpful when the route sheet says "at 171.8km turn right into unmarked road". Er, right, what road's that then...

11) 175km, third puncture. Rear tyre again (and yes, they were all different punctures before anyone asks whether I fixed it properly before). But alas I was only carrying two spare tubes so that's it, I'm shagged, no way of getting back to base now. The air was blue in that country lane. Decide to cycle along with flat rear tyre for a bit to the next village to find help. Can't be far, surely?

12) 185km Yes, it was 10km to the next village. 10km on a flat tyre... Found a garage, called a taxi and bagged my first "Did not finish" for a couple of years.

But apart from that it was a great day out.

Who's that girl?

High Easter 210km.

Managed to pick the wrong day of the long weekend to spend the day on a bike with Saturday and Sunday being lovely and Monday being a little cold, wet and breezy.

A really big group for the 210km ride, around 100 or so riders and it soon settled down into the lead pack of around 30, a second pack (all from one club) of around 20 and then the remainder. I tucked into my normal position, smack at the back of the lead pack where the work rate is least and you only need to worry about yourself, not what's going on directly behind you.

Alas though if you are at the back of the pack you are rather at the mercy of whoever is at the front - most Audax rides the lead pack is "brisk but consistent", they crank it up to around 27 to 30km / hr and grind away. This time around though a girl at the front had other ideas, she was engaging in road racing tactics with the speed being continually varied from 25km up to 40km+ / hr, loads of surges up hills, round corners etc. A consistent fast pace is good, the body adapts to it but surges like this were a killer and not something any of us were used to (except the girl at the front, I guess...).

We were aided by a following wind but the first 50km was dispached in 1hr 20 mins at a blistering average of 38km / hr. I had debated many times whether I should drop off the back but it's always best to stick with the pack if you can - short term pain (of the increased pace) versus long term gain (of the overall workload being less by being in a pack). Thankfully whilst we were all catching our breath at the first rest stop she decided that 30 seconds break was enough and off she went on her own, never to be seen again, leaving behind 30 wild eyed knackered guys asking "Who's that girl?".

Thankfully sanity then returned and the pack now cruised along at it's usual tempo for the next 70km before alas the combination of rain showers, grit on country lanes and thin summer tyres then picking up the wet grit led to the inevitable puncture, my first of the season, leaving me all on my own for the next 40km, a withering stretch into a headwind with my legs grumbling somewhat now from the earlier efforts.

The last rest stop at 150km was littered with semi-dead cyclists, all asking "Who's that girl, and why did she kill us all". A little group of 3 of us set off for home, 60km to go, thankfully now with a tailwind again most of the way, and Megans "red tonic" pure caffiene gels (I love that stuff) helping give me a second wind.

By far the fastest 200k ride I've ever done, an average ride pace of just under 29km / hr which would have been 30km(+?) / hr but for the puncture and having to do 40km on my own which dragged the average down quite a bit. Totally wasted last night, really really spaced out for 3 or 4 hours after the ride and feel like pants today. Hey ho, only 5 weeks to go before the Raid now.

The fast and the furious: the power of the pack

Witham 200km audax, Sunday 19th.

Training is coming along well, circa 1,000 miles down by mid April is pretty good going. I did the Witham 200km last year and it was such a nice ride that I signed up again this year. There was a really good turnout, over 50 for the 200km ride alone and the same again I would guess for the 150km and 100km rides. Each ride was (basically) a widening concentric circle, following initially the same route and then joining up again for the last 50km or so.

A chilly start with a moderate north easterly wind. Alas the first 100km were into said north-easterly. I managed to tuck into the front of the leading pack, sitting just behind three people from Colchester Rovers http://www.colchester-rovers.org.uk/ who were setting a lovely pace and doing a lot of hard work into the wind, taking the pack along at circa 26km / hr into the headwind, a huge credit to them. Alas after 35km I had to stop to "water the bushes", thinking it would be OK and I would be able to pace myself back up to the pack. Setting off no more than a minute later alas I was then all alone facing the wind myself and even after stepping up the work rate considerably I was catching them very much in the negative sense. 40 minutes later and legs burning I conceded defeat and gave up the chase and was eventually swallowed up by a group of 5 who had fallen off the back of the pack earlier, we then rode as a small group all the way to the 100km lunch stop over in Manningtree, alongside the Thames Estuary.

Now, with the hard work into the wind done and the lead pack now reformed with around 10 of us, everything all got a bit racy - we knew we had a 100km blast all the way home with a steady tailwind and pace was quickly cranked up into the low to mid 30's, just flying along. After 130km we rejoined the tail of the 150km route where the Colchester trio turned into little attack dogs - every now and then they would spy some laggards from the 150km ride in the distance ahead of us and the pace would be cranked bit by bit before one final blast past the poor souls. I've had it happen to me a number of times in the past, it's so demoralizing being "chewed up and spat out the back" by a pack, the pack is gone before you even get a chance to up your pace and hang onto their tailcoats. Without it wishing to be perceived as arrogant it was nice to be on the giving end for a change. It's also testament to the power of the pack and how well the pace was controlled that we'd gained an astonishing 50km of road distance on these other riders - and some of them were in packs themselves - we really were on a flyer. I won't claim any credit whatsoever for it, the Colchester trio just sat there at the front pretty much all day long doing all the hard work, I just sat following their back tyres for most of the time.

By far the fastest 200km I've done and feeling it today - legs are fine but head is all a bit fuzzy, lack of sugars, salts etc.

Outbound 100km, average 26.2km
Return 100km, average 30.2km
Poor souls from the 150km ride we chewed up & spat out: around half of the 50 starters, don't think they were terribly amused...

I'll huff and I'll puff

My first 200km ride of the season. In fact my first 200km since last June and the toughest ride since the Etape last July. As one finds out to ones cost hitting the spin sessions in the gym for 45 minutes may maintain some base level of fitness but doesn't really prepare you for 9 hours on a bike...

The ride was a nice route through rolling Essex countryside, the first 50km being spent in small packs of 3 or 4, going along at a good pace. The directions however were a little hit and miss and alas the groups kept splintering at each dubious routesheet entry and I found myself on my own just about at the time that the route took a sharp right turn and went headlong into what was an increasingly growing wind. This I have to admit got rather depressing, battling away on my own into a stiff wind with average speed dropping all the time for 2.5 hours / 50km tested my soul somewhat.

The route was a lazy figure of 8 and the mid point at 100km was back at the clubhut where we had started. Over a quick bite of lunch my head was down and my legs were tired and knowing that my car was a 1 minute walk away round the corner was not helping. Watching the veterans saddle up and roll out for the second half spurred me on so off I went. I hoped to catch them up and join their group but alas it never happened so guess what - yes, another 2.5hrs / 50km battling into a still increasing headwind. By this time I was mainlining full fat Coke and energy bars and the spirits were badly sagging knowing that there was still another 50km to go. The 150km reststop was at a fish and chip shop and oh boy I have never tasted such a good bowl of chips, laden with loads of salt and vinegar, demolished in double quick time.

The last 50km were once again totally on my own but thankfully with a generally following wind. The mind and the legs were both struggling by the end and I was having the odd spasm through my left arm which was probably my body trying to tell me something...

The ride set off at 8am and just before I set off I threw my set of lights into the pack "just in case I was longer than my planned 7.5 to 8.5 hours". 10 hours later with lights ablazing I finally reached the clubhut again, very tired in my head and weary in my legs. None of the course was brutal, it was just a long continual slog and somewhat of a shock to the system.

My admiration lies with the two veterans who did the course on a "fixed" - with a fixed you only have one gear, and no freewheel - so the art is in choosing before the ride which gear to put on the bike for the entire course. These two guys were double my age, had one gear versus my 30, had a steel bike versus my carbon fiber and rolled in just a couple of minutes behind me - really quite inspiring.

The food consumption for the ride will be amusing:
Night before - massive plate of pasta
Breakfast - porridge, can of coke
During the ride - 5 further cans of coke, 3 litres energy / anti-lactic drink, 3 litres water, 3 energy bars (1,000 calories a piece), 2 packets energy sweets, 1 gel tube of caffeine (thanks Megan for introducing me to this...), 2 ham baguettes, a slice of bread and butter putting and a lovely steaming bowl of chips.

The clue was in the title

"Mad Jack Fullers", 120km out of Hailsham.

The pre-ride notes said that this was a 120km ride with 2,500m of climb. On paper that didn't sound too severe but in reality this was a really toughie, not helped that I've not really had my serious cycling shoes on since finishing the Etape last July. 2,500m of climb up a mountain is pretty straightforward, you find a gear and grind away for an hour or two. Mad Jack though had other ideas, bouncing the route in a saw-tooth fashion up and over the Sussex downs a few dozen times. This is the type of ride I always struggle with, up for 5 minutes, down the other side in 30 seconds, brake sharply at the bottom as you cross the river and round the corner and then up and over again - repeat all day long, always changing through the gears, never settling into a rhythm... I was pretty demolished after 80km and was glad to see the rest of the ride was a little less bumpy. On a brighter note the sun was out, what a lovely lovely day after all the horrible winter weather we've had.

Bumped into an Audax veteran on the ride and chatted to him for a few minutes {before he cruised on ahead going up a hill...}. Got chatting about the Paris-Brest-Paris ride, oft consider as the ultimate Audax - a 1,200km ride from Paris to Brest (the very western tip of Brittany) and back again - non stop with a max time of 90 hours (the quickest do it in circa 45 hours, just astonishing - get on a bike, go pretty much flat out for 45 hours?????). So here was I suffering after 80km and this guy was 64 years old and he tells me that when he does the Paris-Brest-Paris he cycles there, and then once he's finished he cycles back home again "to make a good trip of it". Yours truly humbled....