Author Archives: Jay Trotman

The knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone…

Ok, apparently I’m falling apart… My IBS has been off on one, my knee is as previously described (geknackert!) and now my delightful children have returned to school, picked up a whole new wave of unfamiliar germs, and in caring and sharing fashion, passed a cold from one to the other to me… Odd, since generally speaking sharing is not their strong point ;).

I had a plan for today. It involved riding to see my sports physio in Wedmore, getting fixed, getting the rest of the usual kind of ride in, and ending up back at home all ready and sorted to go to work. This however was before the germs multiplied, took hold, proliferated…

I did ride to the physio. Mainly because we’d agreed that would be a logical way for her to see what effect riding was having on the knee. It probably wasn’t a very good idea. In fact it definitely wasn’t. When I’ve got a decent cold, my head kinda vanishes off somewhere. T’other half can always tell when I’m proper ill because I get stoopid. It’s a bit like being permanently yet unpleasantly mildly drunk. It is not a good way to be when riding the bike…!

It was however up there on the novelty value front. You see, in some ways, I’m actually a pretty crap cyclist. Bear with me, this will make sense shortly…. I am a crap cyclist in that my bike is not a mode of transport. It is essential a mobile gym, a psych unit on wheels. It is not there to get me from A to B, but out and back from A. Unless it’s an Etape of course. I can’t remember the last time I rode somewhere and actually had to lock the bike up, which is probably because I may well never have done so. Nowhere I can go has the facilities I’d need when I get there. Most of what I need is within walking distance. Which would explain why I have a very lovely purple skinned Kryptonite lock that I’ve never used! Mind you, it’s not the most practical thing to be lugging around – it’s heavy and barely fits in a jersey pocket, and definitely doesn’t fit in my saddle bag.

So today I actually used the bike as was originally intended. I rode it to where I had to be. I had checked there was somewhere to lock the bike up, without actually knowing whether or not it would all work. Somewhat remiss of me. However it did work, with a bit of a fiddle. OK, so someone could still have nicked the back wheel but…

What did my physio say and do? Well the good news is that it’s just the same old problem. I don’t seem to have damaged or injured anything new. Cycling may be good for joints, in that it is a low impact exercise, but is not necessarily good for knees as it exercises muscles in uneven ways, which in my case causes my kneecap to not track correctly. Not a problem until you make it do that backwards and forwards thing slightly inaccurately for 6 hours. Back when I started seeing Karen in 2010 there were various of my muscles that were tight, or not strong, and I’ve been working on them ever since, and most of them are a whole heap better and thus not contributing to the problem. Which is presumably why it has been generally much better over all. However apparently my illiotibial band is still very tight. After one deep and very painful massage of the area, and a whole new way of strapping it up to give it a break for a couple of days, I was ready to be on my way again. It’s probably a problem that’s never entirely going to go away, unless I stop cycling that is, it’s just something I have to manage. Time to be more conscientious about my exercises at the gym methinks – stretching and strengthening.

I rode straight home. Well, straight ish. Actually, apart from my head being away from the fairies, and the knee feeling weird, the essentials of a cycling me were feeling fine. Pretty strong in fact. And there’s no better way to get rid copious quantities of snot… But really, I was so zoned out as to make being on a bike and playing with the traffic a positively dangerous thing to be doing, so going home was definitely the better part of valour.

As you can see, it was a short ride.

Cycling time: 0:43:07 hrs
Distance: 12.47 miles
Avs: 17.3 mph.
ODO: 553.30 miles

And as you can also see, my replacement Rapha gloves are makin’ glovely (I did that on purpose) patterns on my hands. I particularly like the dots over the knuckles. And the dark blue bike matching nail varnish 😉 *grin*

Little Wing

R. I. C. E.

Rest. Ice. Compression. Elevation.

Well I’ve been trying….

I left it over 48 hours between the end of the Cheddar Cyclosportive and Tuesday’s gym session. That’s kind of rest, right? I’ve been applying ice. I’ve bought a nice black sports bandage thing. As for elevation, well…a bit. Hey, I said I’m trying ok? Not that I was succeeding! *grin*.

The gym? Well I wore the bandage, and took it carefully. It went ok. Ish. Happy enough when it was going around, less than thrilled about the going round afterwards. But better than it might have been. Though it would probably have been better to have left more than 12 hours between that gym session and this morning’s ride…but life just doesn’t work like that, does it?

You see as it turns out Martyn had been in touch as he was unexpectedly free to ride. I deferred making a decision on riding until after the gym, but on the basis that my knee was still working, I decided I would join him after all. I needed to see how the knee would feel on the bike proper as opposed to the gym bike. So there we were, at 9:30am in the Square, admiring the sunshine. Actual sunshine! OK, so the air temperature left a little to be desired but there’s a lot to be said for blue skies and sunshine at any time of the year. It was one of those days where I got the kit spot on. Spot on is when your layers stay where you put them and the only thing that moves is the zip, up and down. Today was a palmares kit day. Etape jersey and Maratona gilet, with arms warmed but legs not. Both motivational and functional. I do think I should remember how much I’ve achieved sometimes. I may not win any medals, but I’ve done pretty well really :).

We hadn’t really planned a route. The idea was to do a couple of easy hours to see how I got on, so we pretty much made it up as we went along. And to start with, just for novelty value we checked out the traffic light queue in Cheddar ;). Yep – still there…

How about we play photographic dot-to-dot and you can figure out where we went?

Looks nice out there doesn’t it? Well it was, mostly, but it was actually pretty breezy, and that breeze just got stronger as time went on, until it was turning even the flat into a slog. I really do hate wind! Mind you it was making the windmill go round so at least it was being useful to someone… :/

Tors, and tall trees. Terrific 🙂

A two hour ride turned out to be rather longer than that, because that’s just the way it happens, and also what happens when there isn’t a plan, but it wasn’t an issue as we both had time in hand. So much easier to ride when there isn’t that pressure to be back in time to be somewhere else. Ask Bella what we did if you’re really interested :).

Cycling time: 2:33:06 hrs
Distance: 41.29 miles
Avs: 16.2 mph.
ODO: 540.83 miles

There probably won’t be many more days like these, as the seasons change, the temperature drops, and the wind blows unpleasant weather at us with impish delight. Best to make the most of it then. It wasn’t the fastest ride. It wasn’t a challenging ride, not from a gradient point of view. However since it wasn’t intended to be either, this is good. It was however sociable and enjoyable and sunny. Which is also good. It was also little bit painful…

Yes, back to the knee again. Well I was riding to see how it was, wasn’t I? For all I know, the suspense is getting to you, and you can’t wait to hear how it was. OK, it seems unlikely, but just in case…;)

I strapped the knee up for the ride, which didn’t actually seem to help, and which didn’t stick properly either, so that came off somewhere after Wedmore. Rather than the occasional twinge that is its usual stock in trade, the knee settled down into general lowgrade background painful fairly quickly, and slowly ramped up from there. As on Sunday, constant careful pedalling was pretty much ok, but anything other than that was not going down a storm. By the time I got back it had swollen up again – which is hard to describe because it’s not that visibly puffy from the outside but it feels all puffy and squishy internally when you use it. So it’s back to the RICE for me. I’m seeing my sports physio on Friday, and hopefully with both of those things, and a bit more easy exercise, I should be up for the Bristol Belter on Sunday. GB – consider yourself warned – I will be wheel sucking! *grin*.

Cheddar Cyclosportive 2012

Up until very recently Cheddar Cyclosportive was my nearest local sportive. This year it’s been usurped by the Somerset Hills Gran Fondo which is only a mile away. Still, at just over two miles away, even if it’s twice as far away, it’s not exactly a long way to go. As a result there’s usually a few of us that do it, though ACG attendance was down a little on previous years – maybe the novelty has worn off ;).

One of the most lovely things about local sportives is that I get a lie in. You may not consider 6:50am to be a lie in, but compared to last weekend when the alarm had to be set a good two hours earlier, it’s positively lazy. Having signed in the night before, and done all my faffing then too, there wasn’t a lot to do once awake. Coffee, muesli, layers, load the bike up with what would be needed, and job done. Dad arrived, did similar, and we rode to the Square where we met up with GB and Martyn. OK, maybe for review purposes I should have driven to the start to assess parking, access, and the like, but that really would have been daft!

Off we went, along a stretch of road that is already extremely familiar, and would become more so as the day went on, since by the end of the sportive we’d ridden down it, in the same direction, three times. It’s a nice long straight bit, which is usually lovely, but is currently less so because there are temporary traffic lights half way down it. Annoying… Being one legwarmer short, it having taken a brief vacation in Minehead, I was worried that it would be chillier than I could cope with but, since the wind had yet to make an appearance, it was chilly but tolerable. I had the usual Cyclosport kit on – with gilet and armwarmers, so I had options for variable conditions too.

HQ was at Sharpham Road playing fields, next to the reservoir, and we followed a small stream of cars into the entrance where the marshals directed them to parking, and us to the start. It being a sports facility, there were changing rooms and toilets, and a little event village with a mechanic, massage tent, and a vintage bike display. Not that I paid much attention to any of these at the time however. I nipped in to the loo, and went back out to join the posse. Gaz was already there when we arrived, complete with my missing blue leg warmer, which I stashed with its partner since I didn’t feel the need. It turns out that Steve was there too, so there were 6 of us in all, which made for quite a nice little group at the start line. I reckoned Dad and Gaz would be fairly well matched, along with possibly Steve, leaving GB, Martyn and I to make up a second group. We lined up in fairly haphazard fashion near the start line, and did the usual chatting, admiring hardware, saying hi to the other locals who passed by.

Dad, Martyn, Steve, GB and Gaz

According to Paul (of LBS Cheddar Cyclestore, who run the event), to whom I chatted briefly when we arrived, there were 350 riders signed up, and the event was full. It’s not a very big venue and he reckons you’d be hard pushed to cater for many more there though, so he was happy with that. It was also Paul who gave us a brief safety briefing before letting us go in batches of 50 or so from 8:30am onwards. As ever we were pretty near the front, and away with the first batch.

We didn’t stay together for long though. The first section out to Wedmore is fast, and flat. I’d add the adjective “familiar” but that holds true for the whole of the route, so you’d get bored of me using it! It’s not easy to take it easy when it’s like that, and no-one was. Well – we tried… The little climb over Mudgeley Hill from Wedmore came as a shock to some, being quite steep for a little while, and split the pack up a bit. As we headed off towards Glastonbury groups formed, and split. There was quite a lot of APS (acquired peloton syndrome, aka stealth drafting) going on too! Various faster groups, clearly intent on record breaking times, passed by, often complete with a cheery hello since I do know quite a few cyclists these days 🙂

Now, to backtrack a little… There were, as usual, two routes available. 100km and 100miles. The route changes a bit each year but essentially the first 100km, which forms the first route, is mostly flat, with a couple of hills, but nothing too dramatic (though you may disagree with that). The next 40 miles, after passing tantalisingly close to the start/finish contains the Mendips, and the majority of the climbing. In previous years I’ve always done the shorter route but since Cyclosport had signed me up for the long route, I hate bailing, and I didn’t want to wimp out again, the intention was to do the longer route for the first time. Of course the route being designed this way meant that I would have plenty of time to consider my options, see how I was feeling, how we were going and so on, so there was no rush to make a decision.

The route took us through Glastonbury, where it was way too early for the fairy wing wearing locals to be up, and out the other side, through Butleigh and beyond, to Somerton. In previous years there was a nasty climb in Glastonbury which I didn’t enjoy much, but I’d been looking forward to seeing how it felt this year and was almost disappointed to discover we weren’t using it. Still, we got to climb High Ham in the same way, which I distinctly remember suffering badly on last time and didn’t hate half so much this time around. Still missing that very bottom gear though.. And pushing the gear I have got may be why my knee started twingeing. I’ve not been strapping it up lately since it has seemed a lot improved, and it wasn’t much of a problem for last week’s Etape Cymru, but let’s face it, it’s not like it’s had a lot of rest since. As I was already on the little white pills, there wasn’t a lot to do about it other than to keep an eye on it.

The first food stop was at High Ham village hall. Facilities inside, drinks and goodies outside. I made a point of eating half a banana, as it’s quite easy not to remember to eat when you’re riding roads you know so well, you kind of forget you’re on a sportive and need to! Then it was time to go down High Ham hill, where the road surface was oddly lumpy and made braking at speed feel really out of control – ick! Not long until the next hill either – Pedwell – which is a nice reasonable slog up and, in case you’re ever going the other way, much fun going down ;). By now it was just GB and I which suited both of us. Martyn had hurtled off with one of the fast groups, and our slightly slower group were well behind us somewhere. On a day when we’re well matched form-wise GB and I ride sportives in a very similar fashion and I think it works out better for both of us than doing it on our own. We chatted our way through the country lanes and ate up the miles between there and Highbridge without much difficulty.

For no doubt sensible reasons, though I’d question them, the route took us along the shared cycle path by the coast to Burnham on Sea. Regular readers will be experiencing a sense of déjà vu looking at the boats here, and if you’re not one of them, go read Thursday’s ride blog! The locals were very good at getting their dogs out of the way for us but I think having to do it so many times was causing the novelty to wear off a little…

The traffic in Burnham is always a tad trying and the road surface on the way out is atrocious so it was quite a relief to get off the main road and head back across towards Brent Knoll and the second food stop at East Brent. Again – a town hall venue, with associated benefits and a wide range of cakes. Time to top up the bottles again. I’m back on the creatine which does seem to do good things for my legs but does make me a lot thirstier when exercising – as it says on the packet. Well let’s face it, these days my diet is seriously deficient of many things, so supplements seem like a good idea. I’m constantly surprised by how much my body does considering how little food and how much white wine it gets! 😉

We were making seriously good time, by my standards, and we reckoned that at the pace we were going if we only did the short route we’d have ridden for well under 4 hours – which is virtually not worth getting out of bed for, even if getting out of bed wasn’t early ;). My knee was only being minorly irritating, I’d taken the next dose of pills, and let’s face it, it was always going to be the long route :). Well, unless serious wind and rain had been involved which, though it was chilly, they were not. Still, not quite there yet. First we got to do the nice wiggly bit around Loxton and Christon to get to Banwell Castle which is a stretch of road I really like, as is the fast main road descent from the castle to Winscombe. I’m such a child…I just can’t resist hurtling off and being fast when I can. Which I duly did again all the way down the Axbridge bypass, mentally waving at home, and back down to the traffic lights where GB caught up with me.

Right. Or left. Because right would have meant bailing, and left meant climbing. The route this year had changed some of the hills and also the direction up or down them, so it wasn’t quite as scarey as before – well, I didn’t think so anyway. It being the Cheddar Cyclosportive, there really is only one way to climb up the Mendips isn’t there? Yep, time for Cheddar Gorge. Which was somewhat over burdened with late in the season grockles and motorists, both variety of obstacle clearly at the back of the queue when brains were being handed out. After some interesting and varied interaction with a particular silver Mercedes driver, we were able to get properly on our way and climb the Gorge, which was much as it ever is. Steep at the bottom until that final very steep left hand bend where it’s best to be in the middle of the road – with a thank you to the tolerant car driver behind me – and then it settles down and gets gradually easier the nearer the top you get. We weren’t generally proving very popular with the traffic though, which was constantly having to leap frog cyclists only to get stuck behind more marginally further on. Even I overtook a couple of cyclists – get me! :).

So, top of the Mendips for the first time. It was chilly up there though and the food stop on the green at Priddy was friendly, but had no toilets, so I had to go climb over a gate…easier said than done in cleats! GB wasn’t feeling great, on his way down with a tummy bug by the sounds of it, but I was feeling pretty good. Two more climbs to go, both of which I know I can do, which is pretty good for the PMA. I should have put my gilet back on there and then, as it was only getting colder, and I ended up stopping not much further along before the descent of Old Bristol Hill to do so instead. It’s a nice descent, but a bit bendy for me, and I don’t know it quite well enough, so I left GB to do the dropping like a stone bit and took it a little easier than I sometimes do. Besides which, I knew what was coming and was in no rush to be going back up hill again!

There was no avoiding it though, no sooner had we finished going down, we were going back up, up New Bristol Road (or whatever it’s called) to climb all the way out of Wells to the aerial on top of the Mendips. This is a long steady climb. It’s marginally steeper at the bottom and I knew we were in for the long haul, so I took it easy and GB drew away for a while. I caught him, and overtook some others who seemed less than cheerful about that fact, as we neared the top. My knee was definitely getting less happy though… It was probably as pleased as I was to reach the top and enjoy one of my favourite bits of downhill to Chewton Mendip. OK, it’s not all downhill but if you get it right, you’re most of the way up the next bit of up before you realise. Much fun again, especially as the miles were counting down and there was only the one really big climb left to do. I really do love downhill :D.

After a nice flying stretch through Litton and the like, the route goes along the edge of the valley through Ubley and Blagdon. It’s long, draggy, and not that nice. The views of the assorted lakes – Chew Valley and Blagdon – are nice, if you have time to be looking at them, but mostly I was too busy trying to get where I was going carefully. I could feel my left knee swelling up… Given constant careful pedalling it was ok, but asked to do anything more dramatic and it gave the weirdest twinge. Sort of a combination of “ow”, “squish”, and “do you mind not doing that again?” all in one go. I reckoned if I was careful there was probably enough in it to get me ’round…and crossed my fingers.

Time for the last climb of the day – Burrington Combe. As you know, I may have ridden up this once or twice before… Today it came with wind and drizzle, which was much the same as usual ;). GB set a constant pace somewhat ahead of me and I just followed his wheel all the way up. His turn to be KOM methinks :). Well, he knows a thing or two about mountains…

As we took a brief break at the top, and GB grabbed yet another stomach churning gel, I was in high spirits. I was going to make it round! I know, it sounds daft, considering my sportive history, but having avoided doing the long route for so many years, it had mentally become a bit of an issue, and it was about to become a demon beaten. Even the stretch across via Charterhouse, which is again draggy, didn’t depress me much, although the annoying top dressing of the last section to Shipham seriously tried my patience. That bit used to be lovely! Still, I got my favourite descent of Shipham Hill to make up for it, and, as we flew down the final straight for the third and final time, we got the traffic lights just right, and went flying past the other waiting cyclist and were sprinting for the finish in no time at all. Childish but fun. And it is supposed to be fun! 🙂

Cycling time: 6:03:22 hrs
Distance: 100.61 miles
Avs: 16.6 mph.
ODO: 499.54 miles

GB was a bit done in, but I was buzzing :D. I guess the 100km lot were all long finished and had departed, leaving only the hardy or foolish sitting around the café and on the grass, drinking coffee, eating free pasta (as if!), and getting a massage. It was getting chilly standing there though, so we didn’t hang around long, and instead took the scenic route around the reservoir to get home, having had enough of the long straight road by now 🙂

I’ll write the official review later…here’s Bella’s report...but in the meantime I have 100 and 1 things to do. Including trying to figure out how best to look after my knee this week. Looks like it might be the shorter Bristol Belter route for me next Sunday otherwise…and I’ll definitely be strapping it up whatever. Ow!

UPDATE : my official review is here. If you want to see me, check out number 338 here. There were only 2 women on the long route, and I beat her by nearly an hour, and also got me a SILVER . ‘Rah! :D.

Everybody scream your heart out

Another day, another ride.

Different company, different weather!

Now why couldn’t it have been like this yesterday?! At least it was this way ’round – one of my infamous blue legwarmers is still in Minehead and I won’t be getting back until Sunday when we all meet up to do the Cheddar Cyclosportive, and I don’t have any longs for the winter yet :).

Cycling time: 1:58:30 hrs
Distance: 32.83 miles
Avs: 16.6 mph.
ODO: 394.93 miles

Rhapsody in Blue

I should be paid to stay away from Exmoor. Unless there’s a drought, and a risk of wildfire, in which case I could be paid to cycle around there for a couple of days. Or, like the Exmoor Beast preview ride, just to be in the general vicinity with a bike that I could be riding…

Today I made my way to Minehead to meet up with Gaz and be shown the wonders of Exmoor. It was raining here when I left, rained most of the way there, and then dried up when I arrived….just long enough for us to get ready indoors and then head out again. At which point yes, you guessed it, the rain started again. Well if you’re being picky, at that point it was probably technically drizzle, but it was rain soon enough, and on and off, for the whole ride. Good thing I had a lot of assorted layers with me right? Including my new Etape Cymru jersey, which I did promise to show you.

Well, Wales has mountains, Exmoor has the Porlock Toll Road…it seemed appropriate. I’ve never done it before, and I was quite excited about it, in an inexplicably odd fashion. Dad kindly pointed out that he went up it on a fully laden touring steel touring bike back in the day (presumably to escape the rising waters as the Ark neared completion ;)) and that if he could do it, then I should be ok. I’m not sure that was helping! Still, here we are, at the bottom, getting ready. Gilet off (me), glasses dried for the first of many times (Gaz), camera over-used as ever (me!).

I liked the toll road. A lot! How mad is that? But I really did. It’s long, not very steep, has the occasional hairpin bend, goes on for scenic miles, with gorgeous views of moor and sea… Lovely :). I’m already looking forward to going back and doing it again and seeing how fast I can go up it! Sad I know *grin*. Today it was wet, all new, and sociable – no Strava segments for us ;). Since I had the time, here’s a brief photo diary of the climb for you…

They say the weather up on’t moors is changeable, and they’re not joking, as you can see. Every time it cleared, you could see the next “shower” heading our way. My gilet went back on at the top of Porlock and stayed on – wet in the wind = cold!

See that thing behind Gary? That’s another “shower”. Or the same one, just following us around!

I really loved the riding. There were a couple of kicker hills, some swoopy bits, some nasty descending because of the wet, a real mix. But that’s not the point. What is is that it was all new to me, and even in that weather, the views were lovely. New to me, without being a sportive. It felt like a mini cycling holiday. We did some of the Exmoor Beast route, albeit in reverse, so it was good practice too!

Today was nice weather for…

I didn’t realise how cold and wet I was until I got back to Gaz’s house, after a long fast straight flying stretch to round things off which is how all rides should end. I changed into dry clothes, and realised I could probably wring out my cycling kit! Nice…;) Even with that, it was an oddly enjoyable morning – and many thanks to my tour guide for sorting the route. He’s a lucky man, with all that on his doorstep :).

Cycling time: 2:09:29 hrs
Distance: 24.64 miles
Avs: 11.4 mph.
ODO: 362.10 miles

So, who’s coming to do the Exmoor Beast with us in October then? As many people as possible, a posse, a peloton..please? 🙂

Etape Cymru 2012

This year’s Etape Cymru didn’t come with a large “UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT” banner but it probably should have done because it was, and if it hadn’t been, after last year’s disastrous event, I wouldn’t have been doing it. However it’s been taken over by Human Race, who also ran this year’s Dragon Ride, and so I thought I’d give it a second chance, just as I did for the Dragon. After all, they pretty much got that right this year, right? However I wasn’t entirely convinced of the wisdom of this idea when my alarm went off at 4:50am and dragged me out of sleep and into the middle of the night. As I loaded up the car for the short drive to the start the moon and stars were still out, and they’re definitely not part of my definition of morning! It having been a clear night, and it no longer being summer, supposing we knew what that word meant in this country, it was not only dark out there but also distinctly chilly. The forecast was for sun and 22C+ but clearly that was going to be a while coming.

I forced down muesli and a cup of tea and, having both gone to bed in and woken up in considerable pain, took some paracetamol. I definitely wasn’t feeling 100%. The start was at Bangor on Dee racecourse, a ten minute drive away, and the sun was rising as I, and everyone else, started parking up. We’d all been advised to arrive an hour before our start time – mine being 7:00am, as was L2P Kevin’s, so we met up in the car park.

Looking at the list of entries displayed in the bar area, the start times were incredibly precise. 7, 7:02, 7:04…etc. As Tannoy Man got going it became clear that we were going to be going out in two minute batches, with the aim to get us all underway in a very short time. Quite a challenge I would have thought, but apparently everyone was away by 7:26am which is pretty impressive stuff, and probably helps with the whole keeping the roads closed thing.

Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself… Back to the racecourse. There was a toilet block on the car park side which you would have thought was adequate, especially as there were toilets nearer the start, but I guess maybe not enough people knew that as the “Ladies” definitely ended up being “Unisex” as the “Gents” got bored of queuing. Interesting…if not entirely pleasant. I’m not sure I do sharing 😉 I had more time than I wanted to kill and it was mighty cold out there with quite a breeze from time to time. Not needing to register, having done that before the day as required, we went off in search of coffee. The café/bar wasn’t open, and the burger van only had the ready made add hot water to variety which only came in white. White tea, white coffee. Coffee is black, everyone knows that! And as for what might be in the white that was pretending to be milk in the tea? Not worth the risk. So, no coffee for me. *grumpy face*. You know me and my coffee! We wandered around a little bit before heading back to the car park for that final get ready push. I added leg warmers to the gilet/armwarmers layering armoury, and huddled in my car for a bit.

Tannoy man started to get quite keen that we be heading for our pens and since mine was to be the first away and that was what I was there for, off I went. The Etape Cymru was doubly Cyclosport blessed today, with both myself and Sean doing it. Except he looks like a cyclist and I don’t. I think he’s probably got better legs than me too…although they may naturally be that smooth 😉 As we waited we were given a safety briefing by Tannoy Man, who was wearing the most amazing combo of brightly coloured board shorts and multi coloured trainers. Add his hi-vis vest and you weren’t going to miss him in a hurry! Maybe that was the point? We were slowly moved forwards towards the start line in fits and starts, to allow the outriders to get underway and out on the course ahead of us. Apparently it’s the “UK’s toughest closed road sportive“. If you didn’t know that before the event you did by the time he’d finished talking to us. Still, as he reminded us, nobody was forcing us to do it *grin*.

Enough with the talking, enough with the writing, time for the riding. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…and we were off. Over the timing mats and out into the chilly Welsh wilds. Oh man it was cold! I’d not met Sean before and we rode together for a while and chatted some, but keeping up with him was easier said than done, even though he did a very good job of hanging back as often as he could. At least the first ten miles or so were pretty flat, meaning we did actually get to warm up a bit before hitting the hills. Kevin had disappeared early on, and Sean now drew inexorably away, leaving me to pootle along on my own. This came as a bit of a relief in many ways because I was properly suffering. The painkillers weren’t working, my mojo was missing, and I felt like I was just slogging along. Then the hills really started, which was inevitable but not all that welcome, to say the least 🙁

It’s amazing the places your head goes on a ride. So much of how you’re doing is mental/psychological. In the frame of mind I was in at that point, with the pain levels not going down, I was seriously wondering if I should be carrying on at all. The first food stop, 17 miles in, came as a massive relief. I got off the bike and nearly fell over as it turned out I was a bit woozy. If anyone had been daft enough to give me a hug at that point I’d have burst into tears and even without actually doing that I was quite glad of the sunglasses to hide behind. I stashed my gilet & arm warmers, used the facilities because my insides were unhappy on more than one level, but completely forgot to get water or food so it’s just as well I always carry what I need, and that there were 6 food stops on the route anyway. I’m not sure I was thinking straight, if at all. However, and most fortunately for me, as I was trying to sort myself out Kevin emerged from somewhere, meaning that I had to pull myself together, and also that I would at least have someone to ride with for a while. As it turns out he stuck with me for the entire ride which is just as well as I don’t think I’d have made it ’round otherwise – not in that frame of mind – so thank you Kevin! 🙂

Time to head for the hills. With an advertised 9000 feet of climbing, this was never going to be a flat ride, and although the route had changed since last year, I did know what kind of thing I was in for. I was mostly worried how my new bike’s bottom gear would be. Gradient can be an odd thing. Sometimes you find yourself in bottom gear struggling to go along what doesn’t seem to be that much of a gradient at all, dreading the “real” hills. Then sometimes you’re on a steep section in the same gear doing just fine. How does that work? One of the advantages of long climbs is that my personal crawler gear comes out of hiding – it’s like my body just settles into plodding. It only happens on properly long climbs, and you don’t get that many of them over here. Wales and Dartmoor seem to have them in abundance though!

the start of the Horseshoe Pass climb

As I mentioned before, the route had changed, which meant the big named challenge of the day, the Horseshoe Pass, came much earlier in the day. I’ll have you know it’s much nicer in the sun than in the wind and the rain! There’s a big sign near the bottom telling you that the Pass is 3 miles away, and then there were timing mats shortly after that for those eejots who wanted to play the KOM challenge game. No point playing if you know you won’t win, so it was a bit wasted on me. I know I’m not a player ;). It’s a long slow slog of a climb as you might imagine – there’s a steeper section very early on that you don’t really realise is part of it, before the horseshoe curve has really started, then a long gradual slog to the steeper bend by the white cottage and then after the bend it’s easy. No, really, it is. Kevin and I were joined by another girl for company, as our pace suited her, and we chatted our way up most of it, though I think we’d dropped her by the time we flew over the top. The views were just amazing, and it’s always nice to see how far you’ve climbed, it adds to the sense of achievement :).

Nearing the top of the Horseshoe Pass

See how far we’ve come?

Having gotten that particular climb out of the way I was starting to feel a little better. The next food stop, 27 miles in, came after a very lovely and well earnt descent. In fact lots of the descents were lovely – all bar one, but we’ll get to that later. This particular food stop, complete with music and very perky cheerful staff, also doing the tannoy thing, was used twice as the route looped from it petal stylee. In fact you could have used it twice, as we darn nearly came back to it a third time… This time I did get water, and bananas, and so on, which was good because I was definitely thirstier than usual. The lad behind the table handing out water kept calling me “Miss”, which was…unusual. It was also time for the next dose of painkillers and I finally started to get that under control, which made a massive difference to the rest of the ride. Every four hours on the dot…and it finally did the trick.

The first loop from here was lumpy. There was a very long stepped climb in there somewhere which actually suited me quite well. Slog a bit, rest a bit, slog some more…you get the idea. It actually climbed as far as the Horseshoe Pass had, whilst being less obvious about it. At this point it was sunny without being too hot, and the scenery was frequently stunning, especially the higher you got. There was a food stop at 34 miles, same venue as one of last year’s but approached from the other way, but we didn’t stop, it being only 7 miles after the last one! Having so many well stocked food stations meant that none of them were too busy and that you were never too far from the next one. On top of that one of the motorcyclists on the course was checking on everyone and had water and gels if you needed either, which I thought was a nice touch.

…green Welsh valleys…

Back at the second food stop, or the fourth as I think it was by now, and those who’d already done it were delighting in telling us all what the next loop held in store for us. I’m not sure that was helpful!… I usually get second wind around 3 hours in, but today it was only first wind! Talk about taking a long time to warm up… I even still had my leg warmers on as although it was getting warmer, descents and Welsh valleys were cold, and they didn’t actually come off until around half way through the ride. I do like that halfway point though – it’s so good for your head, and as I mentioned, my head had been needing a little help.

Kevin pulling me round…

…more climbers behind me…

…and climbers in front…

There were two big climbs I think, and I certainly remember going up a lot. The last of the two is World’s End. Lots of long slow slogging, and some quite steep parts as I recall, but at least by now I was feeling like I could do it and, probably oddly, that it wasn’t overall quite as hard as I’d thought it was going to be. There was a brutal wind on the moors at the top there though, as if fighting gradient wasn’t enough 😉

…another long slow slog tailing away behind me…

…yet another food stop…

…and another climb…

…colourful riders to hide behind on the moor…

…Welsh lamb…

…up where we belong?…

The descent from World’s End however was the exception to the lovely descent rule as mentioned earlier. It was narrow, wiggly, with a lousy road surface and no option but to do the whole thing on the brakes. No fair! I’d earnt some fun! To cap it off, there’s a ford at the bottom. You can ride through it…allegedly…but we were being advised not to as apparently they’d already had a lot of accidents there. Considering that I nearly fell over walking through the darn thing I think that was probably a good call, even if you don’t like being photographed doing it! 😉

Now I wouldn’t go so far as to say it was all downhill from here, because it wasn’t…but we did know that the really big climbs of the day were behind us. The route took a familiar turn as we started to retrace our steps back towards the start. The scenery; castles on top of hills, rocky cliffs, wide valleys, was all just as stunning second time around.

..there is a castle on a cloud?…

…the Rocky Mountains?…

The first foodstop became the final one, leaving us with 17 miles to go to the end. There’s a challenge for you, right? How fast could it be done? Although there was the odd lump in there, we were off and flying for home. A long sprint finish you might say. And, with the roads firmly closed, and all junctions open to us, it was an absolute blast. Just wish I could have done the whole thing that fast! In my dreams…*grin*.

…flat, flying, fun…

One last flying downhill and we were over the mats, under the red arch, and back to applause and the tireless Tannoy man still doing his cheery best to keep everyone going :). I bet he’s tireder today than we all are!

Cycling time: 6:16:27 hrs
Official time: 6:57:17
Distance: 90.33 miles
Avs: 14.4 mph.
ODO: 337.46 miles

I didn’t enjoy last year’s event as I said, but I did think it had the potential to be a great event, given the scenery and the route. Scenery as good, if not better, than the Dragon but without the depressing urban bits. This year the Etape Cymru was everything it should have been last year. The new management did a great job. It was extremely well organised, with around 250 people involved on the day. Considering that there were around 1000 people who actually rode it, that’s a pretty impressive staff-rider ratio, no? Just in case you were wondering where your money was going… The signage was great, not that it needed to be with marshals on every junction. There were CAUTION signs, and mileage markers. There was more than enough food stops with more than enough food, ranging from the usual to boiled potatoes and welsh rarebit. But most importantly of all? The roads were as CLOSED as they were supposed to be – which is really what you’re paying for. It made for some far more enjoyable riding that you usually get in this country. I kept realising I was instinctively listening for cars…and not hearing anything! Bliss 🙂

According to Bella, it was a little under the 92 miles, and was more like 2300 metres of climbing than 3000. I do think it was easier than last year, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing at all, and I’m sure the better weather helped with how I feel about it. However I’d definitely recommend it now. It’s a proper challenge without being stupidly difficult, the scenery is awesome, the route is great, and it’s all well organised. What more do you want? I was in such a good mood about it that I even treated myself to an official jersey afterwards. Well – it’s blue – it’ll look great on the new bike, and I’ll no doubt show you proof sometime soon 🙂

The official Cyclosport review by both Sean and I can now be found here :).

Say a little prayer tonight

On Tuesday I spent another couple of hours with the Cinelli’s midwife, who was doubling up as health visitor and checking that my new baby was doing well. Several tweaks and adjustments were made… The extra spacers went into the brakehoods. (I’d forgotten what those are called and just found this great picture to tell me – gotta love Google, right?). Cables and other things were tightened and checked over. The rims of the front wheel got a light sand papering and the front brake was toed in a bit. Nothing drastic all round really, mostly just making sure it was all running smoothly 200 miles in. A first service, as it were.

Since I’m doing the rather challenging Etape Cymru on Sunday I went out for a ride this morning just to make sure that everything was working ok. Nothing special, just the usual fairly flat training loop done, unusually, in what passes for sunshine around here! It was a bit nippy initially, but I warmed up and so did the day. I’m not going to give you a blow by blow account of the ride today, you can have fragmented oddments of stream of consciousness stuff instead…

My HBB jersey is a good thing in several ways. It’s a little more loose fitting than some of my other jerseys which, as us girls do, if you’re having a fat day, is a good thing. Since MaxiMe made pasta last night that accidentally involved a most evil and malicious vegetable stock cube, comfort was very important today. Yes, I know, stock cubes are small. They may be small but they’re concentrated, and contain onion, garlic, and leek amongst other things. And we’ve already established that garlic and I have had an acrimonious and permanent split. Small but deadly therefore!

But that’s not the only reason the jersey is good. You see it’s pink. Very pink. You see that right? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but in sweeping generalisation fashion, a great many drivers out there don’t like cyclists. But… Look, there’s a bl**dy cyclist. Ah, but it’s a cyclist wearing pink. It must be a girl. Ah…well that’s different then… I had several drivers today pull over to let me past. And reverse to let me past. And one of them was driving a white van! As I’ve said before, I wish the stereotype about white van drivers wasn’t true but the number of times they’ve proved that it is…*grrrr*! Unless they you’re a female cyclist wearing pink, of course 😉

While I’m at it, I quite like the pockets – they seem to come further around the sides than some jerseys so the myriad contents of my pockets are more accessible, including my camera. Oh, and it’s pink and white. With the emphasis being on the white. Which goes to show it washes well since keeping things white is something I am seriously bad at!

The bike is good for seeing things. For not flying past everything. For stopping when you want to…although not too often because that would kind of defeat the purpose of riding.

This is at Max Mills Farm, near Winscombe. I’ve been meaning to photograph it for ages and since it was just me and I could stop when I wanted, today I did. So was there more than one mill? Did it belong to Max? Or was it case of “Max mills corn for living…”? On the right hand side before you get here there is the most amazing derelict almost stately home. It looks like it once had a big walled garden too, with crumbling overgrown walls near the road, and I wonder what happened to it all, and who it belongs to now. Who lived there? Where did they go? It makes me feel all Secret Garden, like I should sneak in and discover it…but the entrance roads are so overgrown I’d need a machete, and there certainly isn’t room in my pockets for one of those. Besides, travelling equipped, even if only really to hack down brambles, is probably frowned upon.

View Larger Map

It wouldn’t be a cycling blog without a sign right? I’d hate to let you down, fail to be predictable, etc. It’s very important to live up to expectations *grin*.

Maybe if these drivers had been paying attention to the sign, and the road, and each other, this wouldn’t have happened? And if, out of boredom or curiosity or some misguided sense of obligation, you’ve actually clicked on that link and read the article and seen the reference to the Brick House Sluice…this be it.

It’s right next to the sign you see. It all makes sense eventually, you just have to bear with me :).

It was quite a hard ride. There seemed to be quite a lot of wind around in the quite definitely the wrong direction quite a lot of the time. It was just me. It was quite flat, so lacking a bit of distractionary challenge. My left knee was twingeing a bit. I was probably tired – yesterday was for various reasons an exceptionally long day and getting out of bed and on to the bike was hard work in itself! I was probably pushing it harder than I should have been. I guess my mojo was a little missing. But it felt fast, and I guess it was fairly. The bike loves fast. It’s not keen on pootling. In fact I think it would like to go much faster. It’s only limited by me and my legs, I think I’m holding it back! It’s a bit like a thoroughbred horse being lumbered with with a teletubby for a jockey *grin*. Still, all the tweaks seemed to have worked. I didn’t really have much cause to check the brakes out, but having the brake levers that bit nearer made a surprisingly big difference. I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for Sunday…*gulp*

For those of you who don’t live in the country and don’t see as many of these as me, here’s a picture of a big red tractor to round things off for you.

Cycling time: 1:52:37 hrs
Distance: 33.20 miles
Avs: 17.7 mph.
ODO: 231.47 miles

The next few days are going to be hard. Tomorrow is Howie‘s funeral which will be hard mentally. The Etape Cymru will be hard physically and possibly mentally too. But then nobody said life was easy, now did they? I should HTFU ;).

RIP Howie. Definitely a Lost Boy :(.

Goodnight Girl

Being as how a weekend without a sportive is like bread without butter…presumably that would be gluten free bread without lactose free butter…something had to be done. Gary mentioned that he’d be free Saturday morning or Sunday. Due to my aversion to tents, damp fields, and walking to what passes for a toilet in the middle of the night, I had the house to myself for the weekend while the rest of the clan were off motorracing, so I didn’t even need to earn brownie points in order to spend hours away from home. Sunday seemed like the best option to me. Right then… I set Gary on the job and, even though it’s his first wedding anniversary today, he created us a 66 mile route. I’m betting Mrs G will quite rightly be exacting her revenge (aka reward) shortly! *grin*. He even agreed to a 10:00am start. Well, if I was going to be home alone, I might as well enjoy a lie-in, right? That all decided, we broadcast our plans to the ACG, and garnered ourselves an extra two ride partners – Martyn and Steve. Steve said “I’ll be there” which, since he appears to have an aversion to the Jackson 5, presumably made us the Four Tops? 😉

When consciousness dawned this morning, I moved. As you do. And OW! OMG! Not sure what I’ve done, but somewhere inside my back on the left hand side somewhere was , and is, proper unhappy. Every time I moved..ow! Inadvertently look over my shoulder or twist my neck? Ow enough to make me yelp! Or whimper at the very least. This did not bode well for our ride. Well the paracetamol wasn’t really cutting it, and I kinda like to be able to look behind me to see what’s coming up from there. I did warn Gary and Martyn – the first two to arrive – that they might have to do the looking out for me! At least the riding position is a fairly set one – quite well supported as these things go. And yes, looking over my shoulder remained a bad idea, so mostly I just did as little of that as possible. That’s what cameras are for, right?

Gary, as we’ve already established, is fast. So is Martyn. And so is Steve! Clearly we weren’t going to be hanging around…and I was a little worried I was going to be sucking wheels all day. And heading off across the Levels didn’t do anything to allay my fears… Gary swore he was trying to keep it reined in, and that the speed we were doing wasn’t his fault…but I’m wasn’t convinced then and I’m not convinced now! 😉

Into every flat a little hill must fall. First off the climb up through Shapwick to the main road ridge, which isn’t too challenging. We had a quick break at the top so I could stash my rather too warm Maratona gilet in my saddle bag, where I discovered my Cyclosport gilet already lurking. I clearly wasn’t thinking straight this morning – I had to loop back to put bottles on my bike before even reached the Square first thing. Doh!

The great thing about being up here is the descent to come, down Pedwell Hill, which came completely unencumbered by buses today – always a bonus. I did discover that one of my brakes was squealing like a bird of prey on the way down, which apart from making me let go of the brakes and descend faster, is not a good thing. Methinks I’ll be checking out the braking again especially as there was a degree of lurch going on descending one of the hills later in the ride. I’m pretty sure I’ve established it’s the front brake though, so that’s progress right?

From there, it was time for High Ham Hill again which was as ever. I brought up the rear, cos I’m good like that. Services to the community and all that. I wish I could say the new bike has made me faster…:( I swear the gearing isn’t quite as favourable even though I’ve been assured it’s exactly the same bottom gear as on the Cube. My legs disagree…and it’s making hills above a certain gradient more of a slog than they need to be. I’m a high cadence low gear girl, and this gear? Not quite low enough. Still once up there I was back on one of my favourite stretches of road that heads South over the top. Long, wide, bendy but not wiggly, with an element of negative gradient. Fast is totally doable and was totally done 🙂 The views were pretty good too…

Gary’s route had us turning left for Pitney before hitting the main road. I knew this, having paid a modicum of attention to the route beforehand, but he went straight on and had to be hollered back. Turns out his Garmin had flooped a bit. That’s what comes of not following the signs, right? 😉

Our coffee stop was in Somerton at the Buttercross Tearooms, after a most glorious finishing straight into the town. I must learn to curb my juvenile sprinting tendencies. After all, it’s not that I’m actually any good at it, I just enjoy it! Maybe my legs could smell the caffeine? Well if crickets can hear through their knees I reserve the right to smell through mine *grin*.

Considering the name of our café, one can only assume that the market cross opposite it is not in fact your average market cross, but is instead a Buttercross. Whatever that is. It sounds like something involving a hot cross bun with lots of butter on it…but that could just be me hankering after things I can’t have, even if it’s not particularly seasonal.

They did do a nice line in exceedingly tempting looking cakes, if not hot cross buns. Considering my somewhat unusual degree of disorganisation this morning I had completely forgotten to pack anything to eat, and doing 66 miles without food, whilst also missing lunch, is possibly not advisable. Luckily for me they did an Orange and Almond cake that was gluten free. Almond is most definitely not my favourite flavour – I hate commercially made marzipan, or battenburg cake – but it turned out to be very yummy, very moist, and very safe. Good cake, good coffee – get in!

However we weren’t even half way through our ride, and there were yet many miles to be done. As is ever the case, there were less photos on the way back. Partially because it was chilly when we set off so I put my Cyclosport (much lighter) gilet on, and getting my camera out from under there is frequently more trouble than it’s worth. Partially because I was trying to keep up! Clearly there was a reason I left that gilet in there though…clever me ;).

There was a long flat straight stretch. There were hilly bits. There was the Pilgrim’s Rest at Lovington, which had the most pretentious chalk boards outside. “Culinary Heights”….”Scaled Here”. I mean, really?! Isn’t that up to me to judge? And it was also painted a particularly unattractive shade of dark Volvo green. We know this, because a Volvo in precisely that shade went past Steve and I with rather more attitude than was necessary shortly afterwards, just as we were discussing said pub. Very serendipitous. Or something.

Somewhere along the way from where we were to where we were going I caught Martyn milking it again *grin*. Him and Gary are as relentless as each other, though by the end of the ride Martyn was totally done for, so maybe a little pacing of energy expenditure is in order? 😉 The same cannot be said for Gary but, as we all know by now, he’s a robot!

One last photo before the dash from Wedmore home. I think maybe they were milking it too? *grin*. I’m not sure where the flags and gold medals come in, though I’m guessing there some sort of Olympic/Paralympic thing going on there. Maybe milk is the drink of champions?

Martyn having, as I said, lost it just a little by now, we took it easy on the way back from here. There was a little drizzle, but having had a little blue sky too, it seemed only fair. It’s an equitable life… Steve peeled off after Wedmore, homeward bound, and we three remaining were back in the Square by around 2:30pm, having done this.

Cycling time: 3:52:15 hrs
Distance: 66.57 miles
Avs: 17.2 mph.
ODO: 198.27 miles

Fast, if not furious. I should have got this blog up yesterday, but I have the most insanely busy week, all building up to Sunday’s Etape Cymru which will not be flat, nor fast. *gulp*. Wish me luck? Tomorrow I’m getting the bike checked over, tweaked, tightened, and adjusted, now that it’s done a couple of hundred mile. Hopefully it, and I, will be ready by then…

We care a lot

Ok, that’s the third time in three rides that I’ve been put firmly back in my place. In case you were wondering, you can all stop it now! First off the ACG leaves me bringing up the rear, then Gary has me wheel sucking for all I’m worth, and today I went out with the newly wed Mr and Mrs Mim. Or Mim and Steve to be more personal about it. Keeping up with Mim is frequently bad enough, but keeping up with the pair of ’em? Come on, give me a break!

Ok, so the lycra in view has been different each time, and today I tried to take consolation from the lovely views and the pretty good, if a little nippy, weather. However I wasn’t in the best of moods to start with, and feeling like the tortoise slogging along after the hare(s) didn’t do a lot for my joie de vivre. I’d maybe have stood half a chance of putting up a good show if we were on the flat, but t’was not to be. Up past the Webbington. Up that Bleadon Hill…

…and down Canada Combe which was wet, gritty, and nasty, and thus took all the fun out of my well-earnt descent. Then up Burrington Combe, which I did no worse than usual, it just felt worse because I couldn’t keep up! At least it meant I got to take yet another different photo from there, right? Still, it’s not an Alp. Or a Dolomite. And there’s some of my favourite flat cycling to be had on the top once you get up there. There’s also a stone circle, or two, which I’ve been meaning to check out since the first time I flew past them. I’m none the wiser as to anything about them, but at least I have photographic proof this time!

We happened across a poor and unfortunate fellow cyclist with a new seat post clamp that was failing to clamp. My shiny gold multi-tool got an outing, though I left it to the men to actually play with it, wouldn’t want to break a fingernail or anything ;).

Best was made of a bad job, we all got to feel very good Samaritanish, and he got to make plans to go back to his LBS and get the right size bit fitted! Then we were back up on the bikes and heading across the fun straight top bit and then down Cheddar Gorge. Again. That’s 3 rides out of 4. And my new bike is still making it easier 🙂 I can’t give you photos of the Gorge, for all the usual reasons, so here’s a couple from in the Caves on Monday instead.

Right. Here’s what we did. Which got me home again well in time for work again, and feeling considerably better, albeit only mentally. Clearly I still have a long way to go physically…did I mention you can all stop pointing that out now?! ;).

Cycling time: 1:58:26 hrs
Distance: 31.68 miles
Avs: 16.0 mph.
ODO: 131.70 miles

I got sunshine in a bag

Some of you may recall that I’m part of the pOcpac test team? Well even if you don’t, I am, and today the postman brought me a small parcel full of new product to test out today. I’m just a big kid – I love getting interesting things in the post :).

I loved my last phone pac – it did hundreds of miles sitting unobtrusively in my middle back pocket, carrying my phone, cards, and money wherever I went. Anything that keeps my crackberry safe and dry when I’m pouring water over myself whilst cycling up Dolomites has to be a very good thing! I’m looking forward to testing out the latest versions and seeing how they cope with living with me. There may not be mountains in my near future, but there’s bound to be plenty of horrible wet weather to put them through their paces in instead. Mind you the Etape Cymru is pretty lumpy – do those Welsh hills count as mountains?

There was an added surprise in my parcel – a pOcpac t-shirt! Considering it was a woman’s S, my heart sunk a little but…’rah – it fits! Thanks guys, it’s lovely! 🙂 Though how long it stays white for is anyone’s guess *grin*.