Author Archives: Jay Trotman

Cuts like a knife

It’s windy out there. It may be kinda sunny, it may be fairly mild, but that easterly wind? Nasty. And such conditions do not make layer choice any easier. I took myself down to George’s in my long sleeve winter jersey with a windproof jacket over the top.

I was already not totally feeling the love by the time I got there. It just all felt a bit like hard work and that wind was proving troublesome. Not a great start. I got there before she did – it’s a school run thing – and was glad of the opportunity to take the arms off the jacket, as I hate being too warm on the bike. I left the route down to George, with a request that it not be too challenging, and we took advantage of the Spring sunshine to visit the seaside at Burnham-on-Sea.

That’s some sticky looking mud out there. I remember losing wellies in mud like that. Mud, mud, glorious mud :). Considering how much the tidal range of the Severn limits sailing opportunities I bet some of these boats never actually go anywhere. But they look pretty right? ;).

The long stretch along the coast road to Brean was pure slog, with far too much traffic. The season starts down there on March 31st, and there was a lot of pre-season cleaning and preparation going on as all those businesses that have been closed for months prepare to try and earn as much money as possible in the short space of time they’re given. Silly season is on the way. I made a mental note to do my best to avoid the area until about October…

Home into the wind via Bleadon, Christon and Winscombe Hill, where there was nothing for it but to plod up. Plus, having started from a different point on the hill to usual, I figured Strava wouldn’t be comparing my time so I had no challenge to beat *grin*. Me, competitive? ;).

Sun, daffodils, clocks going forward this weekend…anyone would think Summer Time was coming ;).

Cycling time: 2:17:53 hrs
Distance: 34.2 miles
AVS: 14.9 mph.
ODO: 12715 miles

It would be easy to blame the wind for today’s average performance, but I think it was just one of the ingredients in the mix. I was riding with George, which always feels like hard work but turns out to be slow, possibly due to the amount of nattering going on. Mind you, she’s always been better than me ever since I started out, so I think I feel that keeping up with her should be a struggle…so I make it feel like one even if it isn’t! Cycling is mental remember?

I may have managed to eat enough to get me through the Lionheart, but I don’t think I’ve done enough since on the recovery front. My legs were feeling pretty heavy and there wasn’t a lot in the tank. And even dosed up with painkillers the niggle was, and is, cutting through. Too much going on all ’round if you ask me. Must do better!

On the upside this year’s March mileage total is already greater than last year’s, and I got to ride for a couple of hours with a friend in what was practically sunshine. Could most definitely be worse :).

Mothers' Day daffodils

You can’t always get what you want

After a few glasses of wine last night, what my body wanted to do today was to roll over and go back to sleep. However considering what I do to my body on a regular basis, it often believes it has basis for complaint, and if I listened to it when it was complaining, then I’d never get on my bike. I’m in charge right? And I wanted to go ride the bike. I wanted to find out how I was feeling post-Lionheart, I wanted to get out of the house and blow the cobwebs away, and I didn’t want to go to the gym. Body over-ruled.

I figured I’d just do the usual kind of loop, take it easy, and please myself, which is pretty much what I did. I didn’t push it and if I felt myself doing so I made myself ease off a bit. I did the odd lump because all flat is boring, but nothing particularly notable, and I took those easy. Even knowing that Strava was recording away in the background didn’t make me go up Mudgeley Hill faster. How restrained of me ;). I stopped when I wanted to, took which ever turnings appealed to me, and took photos as I went, so I guess this is more of a photo diary than a blog, but hey, pictures painting words and so on…

Let’s start with the lay-by on the bypass which, being resident here, I never stop at. So I did.

MHAONB sign

view to Brent Knoll

Nice views from up there, and a shiny new Mendip Hills AONB gateway sign. Who knew?

Time to go get some miles in and get those initial 20 minutes when you’re not warmed up other than in a feeling like death warmed up fashion and just feel rubbish. Today was no exception, and possibly worse than sometimes. Sweating those toxins out right? It was mild and grey out there, but with rather too much wind for my liking, especially on the Levels. Not so long ago I showed you fields of swans. Today you get pigs. Variety and so forth. Cute pigs too, as these things go :).

free range pigs

It was the kind of wind that when you turned a corner and found yourself straight into it you had to instantly drop down a gear (or two). Not ideal. And possibly even more annoying when it was coming at me from the side. As you can see, there’s nowhere to hide out there…

However much of a hindrance the wind was, and it really was, it was worth it for the help it became once it was behind me. I got to fly around the long straights towards Mudgeley Hill at silly speeds without even trying. Much fun. I definitely did my loop the right way ’round today 🙂 Talking of Mudgeley Hill – here it is. They’ve cut back some vegetation somewhere around there and you can now see all of it from a long way off. Not that it’s a massive hill or anything. It’s not an Alp right? But is that better or worse do you think? Do you prefer to see what you’re about to face, or do you prefer not to know?

I climbed the hill. Slowly. My legs wanted me to know that they would cheerfully have not gone up hill and weren’t best pleased at being made to do so, but I told them to shut up, and got on with it, which worked surprisingly well. Then all I had to do was head home via Wedmore and the Nyland loop. Easy. One of the nice things about Strava is that it knows where I’ve been and draws the route map for me, so I don’t have to try and figure that out for you when I get in. I’m lazy ;).

Cycling time: 2:03:32 hrs
Distance: 32.4 miles
AVS: 15.7 mph.
ODO: 12681 miles

One easy recovery ride done. I’m not saying I would like to, or even could, have ridden a sportive today, but my body, for all it’s early morning complaints, was pretty much on form. Good to know. On the layers front it was all change, and after I’d warmed up, I did the ride in my very lovely, christened by being worn for the first time, Rapha Galibier jersey, and my ever reliable bolero arms. (Before you tell me off for buying more Rapha – I got the jersey in the winter sale. Besides, my palmares to allow me to wear it – so there!). I didn’t have to wear a winter jacket so I guess we’re talking layer in the singular, not layers really. I can feel the time coming when I can expose my legs to the world once more, as the light at the end of the winter tunnel grows ever closer. It’s also time I mentioned my Rapha gloves which I’d like you to know that I love more each time I wear them. They’re so comfy and fit so well it’s almost like you’re not wearing gloves at all :).

So there you go. It was a nice relaxed ride and I felt much better afterwards. If you try sometimes, you get what you need, right?.

On the rear window of my car I have a #saveacyclist sticker that says “it’s not a race, give cyclists space”. Today an elderly gentleman of my acquaintance, on seeing and reading this, informed me that it should be the other way round. That cyclists should be giving motorists more space. That in his day cycling used to be about transport, and not fitness, and that he thought the flash kit made cyclists over confident and badly behaved. That cyclists don’t seem to think the rules of the road apply to them. That motorists give horses space because they don’t expect them to have a brain, and cyclists should have. Etc. Oh me, oh my… I was actually wearing my cycling kit getting ready for today’s ride. Cycling is what I do. Clearly I am not about to agree with him… I merely pointed out that there are few bad apples in any barrel, be they motorists or cyclists, who probably give the rest a bad name. Other than that I bit my tongue – a lot! – and merely pointed out that this was not a subject we were about to agree on. Sometimes there’s just no point…but really…*sigh*.

The Endura Trek Lionheart 2012

I did the Endura Trek Lionheart last year, and enjoyed the route so much I wanted to do it again this year. Well how many sportives do you know that start in a safari park? 😉 It has the added advantage of not being that far from here, so the alarm was set for a positively lazy 5:40am, and I actually woke up at 5:35am, thus avoiding that wrenched from the depths of sleep feeling. Great start :).

GB picked me up at 6:20, a little earlier than planned, but what with the necessity to be inside the venue before 8:00am, it seemed like a good idea. Unsurprisingly when I looked out of my window it was foggy, but I’m pleased to say that it cleared up fairly quickly, and, added bonus to late starting, it was also daylight as we loaded up his car. He drove, and I wittered, fuelled by caffeine, painkillers, and nerves. Poor GB ;). It’s almost not far away enough to adjust to what it is that you’re about to do and get into the right frame of mind though…as before you know it, you’ve joined the queue of cars down the long drive into Longleat.

Parking is copious, free, and marshalled. You park on the grass, but there’s gravel road in between, which minimises the puncture risk and the length of time your cleats are walking over wet grass. I hate starting a ride with wet feet, doesn’t everyone?

marshalls managing the car park

First things first, coffee related priorities…especially has having been sent the helmet tag and bike numbers in advance there was no need to register. I know moaning about toilets at events is one of my bugbears, but with 1200 entrants, I’m thinking 9 portable toilets may well not be enough?

queue for the toilets

However should you, as is usually the case at sportives, be tempted to go water a tree – they were very keen to remind you that this was not acceptable and, to be fair, pretty much everyone was doing as they were told, probably to avoid being thrown to the lions! 😉 The toilets may have been busy, but they were still sufficiently equipped, if smelly, so it could have been, as is often the case, worse!

Essentials done and it was time to get back to the car and start the serious business of faffing. Having checked at least 3 weather forecasts before leaving, which were guaranteed not to agree with each other, the layering options were endless. I went with longs, l/s jersey, winter jersey, winter hat, winter collar, mitts + over gloves, woolie boolies + overshoes, and gilet. The saddle bag got winter gloves and a Buff just in case. This was on the basis that the gilet, over gloves, and winter hat could be way more easily removed than a superfluous base layer. Time to join the queue for the start, with a brief hiatus as I returned to the car having forgotten the phone that was supposed to Strava for me. Doh! Back again to join up with GB and Kevin, and where we also conveniently found George and Simon, which was nice.

GB, thrilled at having his photo taken 😉

Kevin, ready to go.

George and Simon resplendent in Tor 2000 kit 🙂

Getting closer to the start…

Right. A quick rider briefing, and it was time to be on our way. After the apocryphal and exemplary Mad March Hare, setting off and it not being pouring with rain meant we were already ahead of the game. The surprisingly lumpy loop inside the estate and the long climb out up the drive meant that the chill started to wear off pretty quickly. The first couple of hours of riding were fairly flat on quiet country roads. It was a bit hairy up until the route split as there was a wide range of bikes, rider abilities, and rider experience. Quite a lot were clearly not used to riding in groups, or in company, so it was every man for him/herself when it came to spotting road obstacles and keeping an eye out for traffic.

The route split took a lot of people by surprise. It was at a marshalled crossroads, about 18 miles in. The “100 mile straight on”, “100 km right” signs were down on the left hand side across the junction. If you didn’t hear the marshalls shouting, and arrived amongst a lot of riders, or were following wheels, it was easily missed, and I already know of quite a few people who ended up accidentally doing the shorter route, and not realising until it was far far far too late! Ooops… Luckily this didn’t apply to us. George and Simon were already behind us, but they made it ok. Kevin was ahead but had likewise spotted it, as did we. Thank goodness! So, onwards and upwards, amongst a thinned out crowd of possibly slightly more experienced riders, which made it easier to relax into the ride.

photos taken on the move are not always in focus 😉

It’s a miracle I manage to learn anything at all these days, because my brain is clearly full of sportive routes I’ve ridden, and 80/90s song lyrics. It’s amazing how much you remember from years past. Having done this event before, when the bizarrely located italianate church hove into view once more, I knew I was about to reach the first food stop – about 30 miles in.

I love it when food stops are in village halls (or similar) because I get to go to the toilet in civilised fashion, and don’t have to watch lycra clad men lined up by the side of the road doing their thing. Much nicer I’m sure you’ll agree :).

As you can see there was quite a spread laid on and it was proving very popular. Considering my current eating issues I had to give it a miss, resorting to the gluten-free bar I was trialling, and more importantly, the next dose of combined painkillers, since there was no way I was letting them run out! I also stashed the gilet and took the over-gloves off, both of which went in the saddle bag, and replaced the winter hat with a Buff – all as per the plan :). In case you were wondering, that would be a plan coming together ;).

Back on the road again. Life got a little bit lumpier for the next section, with some longer climbs, the use of some more major roads, and a couple of beautiful descents. Shame a good descent is nearly always ruined by a junction at the bottom! A lot of them were well marked with “Caution” signs, but the first one for the A303, although well marshalled at the bottom, could have been better marked, and the second one (also to the A303) somewhat later on came as a nasty shock. Good thing I have new brake pads! To be fair they got us on and off the A303 first time around, which is where the traffic is worst, very efficiently and with a smile and some banter – which is always nice 🙂

For scenic interest, along the way I tried to capture the chalk military symbols at Fovant, with limited success, but if it sparks your interest, you can see more here.

country roads, scenic views

There was a nice climb up from the A303, where I actually got teased by another rider for being a typical woman talking going uphill. Don’t think that’s ever happened before. It made me feel all capable *grin*. I had a brief chat with a rider wearing my Etape jersey, but who seems to have found it a whole heap easier than I did, so I’m not sure he’s as deserving of it as me ;). Jealous, moi? 😉 Right, 50 miles in now, time for the second food stop.

I bumped into one of my twitter friends here, who was riding as one of the Strada Cycles team, one of whom had been in front of us in the toilet queue and whom we’d chatted to. It’s a small world after all, right? It’s weird meeting twitter folk – it’s hard to recognise each other in person at the best of times, let alone when clad in lyrca and hiding under a helmet. Hello Rob 🙂

decisions, decisions…

The foodstop came with food, toilets, and mechanical assistance. Oh, and sunshine 🙂 What more do you want? Time to take the winter collar off and stash it in a convenient pocket.

Not long after the foodstop came one of my favourite parts of the ride, which I was quite looking forward to. Welcome to Stourhead. Scenic, pretty, and not as crowded as it can be. I stopped to take this photo, and had a brief chat with a couple of elderly gentleman who were enjoying watching the cyclists going through and reminiscing about when they used to do the same. I think a lady (ok, something approximating that) in lycra on a bike was a welcome novelty for them. I hope that’s me one day, full of happy cycling memories, but I also hope I’ll still be riding then :).

There’s an up and down through a forest section after this, which I enjoyed more last year. This year the roads were covered in mud and a bit hazardous, especially on descents. Luckily it was almost devoid of cars, as I was frequently on the wrong (but drier) side of the road! After the final climb out of the valley there’s a beautiful long stretch along a ridge with awesome views before another glorious descent, and it sure does make a change after all the recent fog to actually be able to see the views!

The forest and GB.

There were three foodstops on this route which I like because it helps me mentally break the ride up into more easily manageable parts. Especially important as I knew the worst climbs of the day were in the last quarter! The third stop is interestingly located, about 74 miles in, halfway up quite a steep hill. Last year I nearly failed to unclip on arrival so I wasn’t going to let that happen this year, and unclipped well in advance! Nothing like ending up on the floor in front of an amused, though possibly sympathetic audience, to ruin your sang froid ;).

They even had coffee inside, and since the temperature had dropped a little, something warm and with a bit of a kick went down a treat. The cakes looked lovely too, if you’re not me, and the staff both inside and out were very friendly and cheerful :). I stuck the winter collar on again, even though I knew hills were looming, because the clouds were ooming. And if you don’t know the verb to oom, it’s a lot like to bode. As in bode ill, or look ominous. Enlightened now? 😉

Can’t hang around all day though right? Time to get the last, and most anticipated section, over and done with. I did have to walk a little way up the hill to a marginally flatter bit to make sure I got on my bike, got going, and stayed upright though! 3 miles down the road comes the King Alfred’s Tower climb which, last year, I had to stop on twice. Rain was threatening, the road was damp and not clean, and I seemed to have blanked out the details of the climb altogether. Worse still they were timing it this year, which, should you look later, will probably show how lamentable my time was. Sod the time though…because I got up in one go! I didn’t walk. I didn’t even stop. I puffed my way up, leaving lesser mortals in my wake…though to be fair since I did indeed sound like a steam train they certainly heard me coming! Somewhere with the top in sight I could feel my front wheel lifting in that slightly heart stopping way…*shudder*. So I leant forward, redistributed my weight, crossed a few mental fingers, and kept going. If there hadn’t been an audience I’d have been whooping when I made it over the top, but there was, so I settled for telling GB (who’s climbed it several times easily) how proud of myself I was *grin*, Go me!

early in the climb

My achievement helped motivate my legs for a while, which was good as they were starting to flag a little and I knew there were two big climbs to come. They were indeed large, and hard work, but at least I knew what I was letting myself in for. Again with the forewarned is forearmed. Massive kudos to the two long haired guys on fixies who we’d leap-frogged a couple of times, and who came back and overtook me going up these – chapeaux! GB gets faster when he’s tired, on the basis that that way he’ll get it over and done with faster. I’ll have you know that this is quite exasperating when I don’t! He decided enough was enough and he needed to get back and dropped me like a stone, leaving me with Kevin who had luckily dropped back to join us, having overtaken us at my last drug top-up stop. Well finishing a sportive on your own isn’t a lot of fun, so company was good :). The last few miles included an extra very busy car laden loop where, as a steady stream of slowly climbing riders, we held up the traffic a treat – man I bet we were popular! There was entirely too much last minute climbing, and we also finished by going down the (admittedly enjoyable) drive, rather than down last year’s glorious sprint finish straight. I kinda hope they bring that back for future years.

I finished, though what with my Strava phone having given up the ghost, and my cycling computer being a tad unreliable these days, my stats are slightly cobbled together from my figures, GBs and Kevin’s Strava ride.

Cycling time: 6:10 hrs
Distance: 103 miles
AVS: 15.6 mph.
ODO: 12647 miles

I think my official time will be around 7:00hrs which, as an 18-39 female, will give me a silver time. ‘Rah! Last year it was 6 miles shorter, took me 15 minutes longer, and I weighed more than a stone and a half more. A lot can change in a year no? – and this year definitely felt faster :).

We headed for the event village where free hot drinks and food were available, toons were playing, and if I had the money I could probably have bought a Trek. The Lionheart beer nearly called my name before I remembered that beer currently disagrees with me….so I was saved from myself 😉

resting bikes

We may not have stuck together like glue, but we started together and finished together, complete with medals to prove it.

GB and medal

a smiley happy Kevin 🙂

Sadly the very lovely looking free five bean hotpot didn’t stand a snowflake in hell’s chance of agreeing with me, so I had to give that a miss too. Having had free coffee, which was most needed and very welcome, I forgot that I could have had superlative coffee from the fabulous Claud the Butler as I did last year. (I’m biased I think, because my first decent bike was a Claud Butler *grin*).

Time to head ’em up and move ’em out…aka head for home. It is Mothers’ Day after all, and last I checked I qualified as one of those. A hot bath, roast dinner, dry cava and chocolates were awaiting me…and I needed all three :).

Things I have learnt today. I can still ride 100 miles. Though I hurt now and will hurt more tomorrow. Mostly in my shoulders and arms though – weird! If I eat enough potatoes and gluten-free pasta in the days beforehand, stick to gluten-free bars on the day, and drink plenty of lemon tea Nuun, I can ride 100 miles without bonking or making my insides hurt more than they do already. Result! Roll on the rest of the season – I need more miles and more hills under my belt :). Oh, and one thing more? 103 miles and camera makes for a very long blog entry! *grin*.

UPDATE: official time is 6:59:47 which is indeed a SILVER :D.

Don’t ask any more stupid questions

I was having a conversation with someone the other day about why I cycle. Which is an interesting question. A long time ago there were definitely reasons why I started cycling – for a local pub charity ride, because it made a change from the gym, to keep my weight down. Etc. Etc. But why do I cycle now? I’m not sure I can, or maybe I’m sure I can’t, answer that question in ways that will make sense to the non-converted. At some point those clearly defined reasons seem to have sort of melted away. I could give you lots of other reasons if push came to shove. But essentially it has just become what I do, and who I am. I’m a cyclist :).

Red Rain

I think I may be living my very own version of Groundhog Day… This was my view out of the window this morning. Look familiar at all?

I mean…really? Fog? Again? I was bored of it before…so for variety’s sake this time I opted for being grumpy and unamused instead. This is not a good frame of mind to be in when you’re contemplating riding the bike, and if it wasn’t for the fact that I was riding with someone else – namely George – I’d probably have opted for a session in the nice warm gym instead. It being her ride, and her route, I didn’t even really know where we were going, other than that it was due to involve hills and Portishead, which again wasn’t all that motivating. The hills that is, not the Portishead bit, before all you Posset residents take offence. It’s just with hills I usually get to watch her disappear into the distance whilst I slog along behind her feeling sorry for myself. Did I mention how crotchety I was feeling? *grin*.

If you want to see my route, you can hit the Strava link and there it will be, in all its glory, though considering that Strava are currently having capacity problems, I can’t guarantee that ;). It was another chilly, grey, gloomy, foggy, featureless ride. With my sunglasses relegated to the back pocket and my helmet dripping water onto my face. Having said that…it wasn’t all that bad. There were some hills that I haven’t been up in a long time, which is always nice:

The fairly gentle climb up past the Walled Garden from Wrington to Redhill, having convinced George that the road around the runway would be mucky and unpleasant. Well it is at this time of year, right? 😉
Wraxall Hill, which is a slog, but which I remember as being worse last time I did it, an improvement aided and abetted no doubt by the nice road surface.
The long climb along Nore Road in Portishead, where we waved in Mum & Dad’s direction and wondered where Wales had gone. Along with the Severn. MIA.
The climb up the initially steep Holly Lane into Clevedon, made easier by the thought of imminent coffee.

At least with the ups you also get the downs, though this was sometimes hairier than usual. Unfamiliar descents, with limited visibility, damp roads, and very cold hands…ick! I put my over-gloves on at some point which made all the difference though. Having shown you a misty pier the other day, I of course leapt at the chance to show you a slightly better version of the same sort of thing. Voila – Clevedon Pier. Equally atmospheric, but rather more intact.

We had our coffee stop at Tiffin, on the seafront. Talk about busy! We were lucky enough to get the last table, and some people ended up outside which, on a day like this, takes some dedication. The reviews at TripAdvisor may be behind this – it’s clearly very popular, and we may well have been a little under-dressed ;).

George doing what all do when we sit down - check the 'phone!

Mind you, all the coming and going meant people kept opening the (large) door that we were sat next to and letting the cold air in, which ain’t all the pleasant when you’re sitting in clammy lycra. However that not withstanding, it was all very pleasant. The staff were friendly, they didn’t flinch at our non-conformist apparel, and they had two types of gluten-free cake – gluten-free being amongst the things I can risk eating. No guarantees, but it’s safer than most. My safe sticky ginger cake was nice, if more ginger than sticky, George’s toasted teacake, served with a selection of jams, looked nice, and more importantly the coffee was good. You know me and my coffee :). Not the cheapest in the world though – that lot came to £9.90…

So that left me caffeine-fuelled, with my painkillers topped up (yet more caffeine in there) and raring to get home and warm up. I think the fog had marginally lifted, and the temperature raised likewise, as it wasn’t quite as chilly setting off as it might have been, even when I stopped again for more photos.

George waiting patiently while I take more photos.

George is not going to thank me for all these photos but since she rarely comes out these days, I feel the need to over-compensate for her absence and immortalise her here while I can – so there :P. We took the fairly direct route home – Yatton, Sandford, Winscombe. I was going pretty well, and George was kind enough to suggest I’d been towing her around all morning, which is a nice thought, but since her back light is better than mine (the batteries on mine are running out) I think she was really only sitting there for safety reasons ;).

Having been up Winscombe Hill the other day to get my Strava QOM (as you do) I decided we were going back up that way again. George did try and talk me out of starting at the bottom, but since she’s usually the one making me go up hills, I decided I wasn’t having any of it *grin*. And I made it up faster today too, so clearly it was all well worthwhile. Oh dear, oh dear, what is becoming of me…? 😉

George, having had gear problems all day, and not wanting to push her still recuperating knee too much, was a little behind me, so I had time to get the camera out again, and catch her one more time before we went down the bypass to home. Tee hee hee…*grin*.

I can’t be bothered with multiple sets of stats anymore – so for the time being, these are those from Strava, even if they do make me slower:

Cycling time: 3:06:11 hrs
Distance: 45.1 miles
AVS: 14.5 mph.
ODO: 12544 miles

After all that pre-ride preamble, it went surprisingly well, and I’m very glad I went, as it was good to catch up with George, and riding on my own can get a bit boring. My legs were feeling pretty good on the flat, but a little less so on a couple of the hills, so I’m thinking it might be wise to take it a little easy over the next couple of days before the Lionheart. It’s the first 100 miler of the season and it’s inevitably going to be hard work. It would probably help if I remembered to drink and eat properly too – not easy when the weather is like this, and when I’m not sure what I can eat… Talking of weather, the forecast is not brilliant, but that’s alright, I don’t need a weather forecast, because I know what it’s going to be like. Foggy! :D.

Smoke on the water

I am SO bored of fog. Bring me sunshine, please? It’s bad enough when you wake up to fog and it burns off just as you get in from a ride, as usually happens, but at the moment it just never seems to go away :(.

more fog...*sigh*

Since I have the Lionheart on Sunday, and a fairly long ride planned on Thursday with George, today I was planning on just doing the usual kind of loop. You know, taking it easy, enjoying the ride, and coming home. But the fog makes everything boring. It is uninspiring. Featureless, monotonous and drab. Chilly and damp too. Not the best for doing a not challenging, not exciting, very predictable, route. So I decided to do something different. Sadly I will also have to admit to being minorly motivated by Strava, and hill climbs, and to my competitive side peeping through just a little too…

So I decided to do one of my seaside loops, but one of the ones that includes hills, to spice things up a little. Starting with my bete noire, which did not go particularly well. I guess I didn’t push as hard as I could have done, and I definitely slackened off at the top when it became clear that today was not a record breaking day. Maybe it’s hard to aim for a goal that you can’t see? Maybe last night’s red wine wasn’t the best form of carb loading? But 15:12 to the top is not the end of the world, it’s still towards the top of my table, and now it’s on Strava I can compete with me and everyone else, knowing that there’s room for improvement, right? 😉

nearing the top of Shipham Hill

My fog covered sunglasses went into the back pocket, and it was down t’other side to Churchill and round the back roads to Sandford, where I discovered that the road to Puxton was closed. I was in the process of figuring out what to do about this when the nice (probably very bored at having to sit there all day and manage traffic) man got out of his van, moved the barrier, and gestured me through. Apparently the way was passable for those on two wheels, as is often the case, if I wanted to use it. Which clearly I did. They’re re-laying patches of the road surface so there were a couple of bits where I had to walk and carry the bike, but other than that it was indeed rideable. And blissful since you know there’s no traffic around to trouble you. Gotta love closed road events ;).

On to what I was fully expecting to be my next cyclo-cross section – getting up and over the scaffolding bridge at Wick. But no. It was not to be! The temporary bridge had completely gone, and once again I was ushered through. I was allowed to cycle over the shiny new bridge, which is now open to pedestrians and cyclists if not yet to traffic. How exciting is that? Trailblazing! Well I thought it was exciting. There’s a lot to be said for novelty value, and precious little of it to be had when you’ve been cycling around here for a few years *grin*.

the new bridge over the railway

I nipped down and took a photo of it afterwards just for you, which was good of me no? It’s a pretty substantial bit of kit, so I’m thinking that the “Weak Bridge” signs at either end of the road may now well be superfluous…

That's a lot of signs...

The fog continued unabated, along with the associated lack of wind, which did at least help with the flying along feeling. Or more to the point not hinder it. Me and my happy legs flew all the way around the wiggly bits, along the straight at Sand Bay, and up the beautifully re-surfaced hill from the Commodore Hotel. A decent road surface does make it easier, if not easy, if you see what I mean :). The views, usually so nice from the coast road, were non-existent. It’s not easy taking photos when everything is being so uniformly boring, but I thought the old pier was looking nice and atmospheric.

It being a grey and miserable day, Weston was a relatively pleasant place to be, in a getting from A to B sense that is. Not too many eejots in metal boxes, and not that many pedestrian grockles, but still too many traffic lights. It does amaze me how slowly it is possible to cross the road…I mean really, do you not have places to be? Candy floss to buy? Fruit machines to feed?

I do like the long straight seafront section through Weston, mostly because I enjoy the fact that all the cars expect you to be doing no speed at all, whereas actually it’s possible to fair hurtle along there. You do have to be a bit wary of SMIDSYs misjudging you though…but since it’s wide and fast and flat at least you can usually see them about to be prats even if they haven’t seen you! Anyway, time to go up some more up, at the appropriately named Uphill, and then over Bleadon Hill proper. I stopped 3/4 of the way up the latter because I love the way this tree has been allowed to grow around the cables, rather than being cut back completely. There’s been a lot of tree-hacking going on around here lately, so it’s quite nice to see one left to do its own thing with minimal interference. It was also time to take the next dose of pills, so two birds with one stone ‘n all that.

I wasn’t finished with hills yet. No siree jim bob. After another nice descent, and some quiet country lane meandering, I had the option of going right at Loxton and home past the Webbington, but I had time in hand, a two hour rule to stick to, and besides which I was enjoying myself…so I took the left turn. I don’t like wimping out 🙂 So it was along past Christon, and up the little kick of a hill to Banwell Castle, which can be a stinker but wasn’t too bad today. Yes, we have a castle. Kinda. I gather it probably doesn’t count for castle purists but hey, it’s not like there are that many of them to go around out here, so beggars can’t be choosers ;). It has peacocks too, but today they were only audible not visible.

Banwell Castle

See basically I’m doing all these ups to get me my downs. You spotted that right? OK, so I’m shallow *grin*. And the down down the main road to Winscombe is a lot of fun :). That just left me with one more hill to go up; the ever challenging Winscombe Hill. Plod plod plod. To be fair hills are much easier when you’ve done them before, because you know you can do them even if it’s going to take a while, and I’ve done this one a fair few times now :).

Once at the top there was a brief lull in proceedings for a quick drink and a foggy photo of the descent…before picking up speed proper and getting my favourite zoom home. Irritatingly there was just enough wind around to make the bypass slightly underwhelming on the fun front, but such is life :).

As ever, we have the whole compare and contrast joy for my figures, since I haven’t yet completely gone over to the Strava dark side. Time is coming… So according to the usual cycling computer – even tweaked to check wheel size – I did this:

Cycling time: 2:13:01 hrs
Distance: 36.73 miles
AVS: 16.5 mph.

According to my route on Strava – I did this:

Cycling time: 2:13:18 hrs
Distance: 34.0 miles
AVS: 15.3 mph.

ODO 12499

Being as I’m the only girl doing the Strava thing around here I’ve turned into the Queen of the Mountains in about 8 places around here now, which is laughable, but hey, if the crown fits ;). I think I’d probably have been better off trying to beg, borrow, or steal a Garmin to use for the season, so as to get accurate figures, rather than adding this whole unnecessary competitive element to my riding – comparing myself to all the others out there is not good for my PMA! It’s not a race, right? 😉

Purple Haze

The last entry could have been said to be brought to you by the letter ‘M‘. ‘M‘ for miserable, maudlin, malingering and moaning… Well today ‘M‘ is for a moratorium on such behaviour. And for MTFU and get on with it! Enough already, right? 😉

Today’s ride was an ACG one, and today’s route was created by yours truly. I don’t know why, but I decided it would be nice to go back to The Potting Shed in Langport. This has the advantage of including a few lumps, most notably High Ham Hill, is somewhat flatter on the way back, and is a respectable length loop, being about 46 miles. To be fair, I did advertise it in advance as it was a bit longer than our usual rides are, and I’d happily have done something else if necessary, as this is after all a democracy not a dictatorship. Honest ;).

So another Sunday morning dawned. Tell me, how am I supposed to figure out what to wear when it’s so foggy I can’t see the end of the field behind my house, let alone the weather? Heaven forbid there should be any consensus to the weather forecasts and the actual weather conditions being recorded out there…*sigh*. I guess I should maybe have gotten out of bed even earlier to allow for more outfit consideration (aka faffing)? As it was, it looked like it might be chilly, I was feeling a little mentally chilly, and what I wore on Friday pretty much worked. What’s more it was all clean and dry too, so…stick to what you know, right? And since that’s mostly Rapha, I was unlikely go far wrong, and I didn’t :).

view from my window this morning

can you see the Mendips? No? Well you usually can...

There were four of us today – myself, GB, DM and GH, which made us, I like to think, a fairly well matched bunch. It was grey, and foggy, and a little chilly, and to use a lovely word, just kinda claggy. Not being able to see anything much made for oddly boring and monotonous cycling, though I’m not one to complain about a lack of wind, so I won’t. All that fog was annoyingly wet again and rather than turning my sunglassees into a pince nez like the last time, they ended up in a back pocket for most of the ride. Being a contact lens wearer this is not ideal, but it was better to risk bits in my eyes than not being able to see where I was going, and for the most part I got away with it.

what could be any road on our way...

It’s a fairly direct route from here to Langport really – Wedmore, Shapwick, High Ham, and you’re there. High Ham was the usual slog so I distracted myself by taking photos of GB and DM disappearing into the distance, which lessened the pain somewhat ;).

DM, and a disappearing GB, on High Ham Hill

The descent the other side was lovely, and the coffee stop was just as welcoming as last time, albeit without the free cake *grin*. This is not to say that there wasn’t cake, as you can see. I think GB would have preferred a bacon roll, which he could have had but he’d assumed it wasn’t that kind of place. Never assume… ;).

DM, GH, GB at The Potting Shed

Time to come home again, avoiding retracing our steps at all costs obviously. It was pretty chilly setting off again, which is always quite motivational, and makes you go faster to warm up! Not only did taking a different route make the return journey somewhat flatter as previously mentioned, but it also involved using a lovely road from Catcott to Burtle that may actually have been new to me! At the very least, one of the roads less travelled for sure.

There was somewhat of a tailwind on the way back, in so far as there was any wind, and that never does any harm…so there were brief patches of zone…and stirrings of mojo :). Slowly the fog was lifting, the skies were lightening, and as could have been, and indeed was, predicted, we were back in Axbridge just in time for the sun to come out into blue skies… Ah well, at least if the sun wasn’t out, neither were the Sunday drivers. Well, not as many of them as could have been anyway.

makes a change from tractors right?

I'm thinking GB saw the camera... 😉

It was a really enjoyable loop – including enough up to be a bit challenging, some nice descents, and some lovely fast flat. I can see me doing that one again. As long as there isn’t any wind to speak of that is – it’s a very north/south loop, and it’s quite exposed for a lot of it, which means there’s no such thing as a good wind direction for it! We did a much better job of ‘G‘ being for Group than usual too, which always leaves me feeling better about an ACG ride. It is, after all, the point.

DM and GH on a hill somewhere

According to the usual cycling computer – I did this:

Cycling time: 2:47:10 hrs
Distance: 49.16 miles
AVS: 17.5 mph.

According to Strava – the latest fad around here – I did this:

Cycling time: 2:46:49 hrs
Distance: 46.2 miles
AVS: 16.6 mph.

Considering that the bikeroutetoaster route was designed to be 46.17 miles, this would imply that my cycling computer is indeed over recording. Don’t know why, so I guess I’ll have to check it’s all set up properly again, which will probably only hold true until I change the tyres again anyway! In the meantime I guess we’ll go with the Strava route as actually ridden, with the relevant facts and figures, for the sake of accuracy, even if it does make me slower 🙁 Which takes the ODO to 12465, should anyone other than me care… No? Thought not :).

...as close as you're getting to a photo of me today *grin*...

White Flag

Sometimes, it would appear, the Verve have a point, and the drugs don’t work. Today would be one of those days. I suppose I could have decided to stay in bed and not ride at all, but to be honest that didn’t even occur to me. Yet more proof that I’m not normal, no doubt. Since I’d already said I’d meet the Somerset Cycling lot, I was committed to riding, right? Besides which I really don’t like going back on my word, and how can the Friday ride become a regular one if I miss one? 😉 I was also hoping that a hefty dose of cycling produced endorphins might succeed where pills were failing, and besides which, sitting around at home feeling miserable really didn’t appeal. Better to be riding, better still to be riding in company :).

So I took myself off to Mark as planned, in the usual way. GB had warned me by text that it was colder and windier out there than it looked, and he was 50% right. Typically that would be the half that was the headwind of course. Not conducive to hurtling down the A38 at any sort of speed, but quite good for warming you up, so it was not one of my faster rides but it got me to where I needed to be, early as ever of course.

the grey and not at all winding road to Mark.

As I loitered outside the pub in Mark, waiting for the others, it was pretty obvious that not only were the drugs not working, neither were the endorphins. Ah well. It was worth a go right? The rest of the posse arrived in dribs and drabs…late I’ll have you know. Officially late, since the church clock had already chimed eleven o’clock before any of them showed up. Sarah was first, and she’ll be thrilled that I managed to get yet another photo of her ;).

Then Justin, who I seem to have caught slightly in mail order catalogue male model pose…

Followed by Coxy and Astana Man…feel free to guess which is which.

Coxy explained the route, which involved heading out Glastonbury way, then round to Somerton and so on, and I decided that I would bail at Glastonbury and head for home – as I’d half thought I might when he suggested it by text first thing this morning. A sort of compromise between not riding and riding – riding less ;).

Coxy explaining the route, with hand gestures and everything

Michael was the last to arrive, and he’ll be very pleased to see that I have chosen not to immortalise him this week ;). We all headed out east and had a very pleasant half an hour or so’s ride out towards Glastonbury, picking up Carlo on the way.

Sometimes the pain is, oddly, a helpful thing. It makes you go faster. Either in some misguided belief that you can can ride away from it, or in the hope that the effort and energy being expended will subjugate it. This was particularly true on the long straight after the lovely descent of Mudgeley Hill, inevitably into the wind. Oddly enjoyable. I was aware that this was probably only going to be effective for a while though, as I was still conscious of the niggle gnawing away in the background. However well I was doing, and I was, at some point I would be hoist by my own petard and pay the price, and what with the route getting further and further away from home, taking the left towards Godney still seemed like the best move. Discretion is the better part of valour. Etc.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Michael had had similar thoughts, albeit for different reasons, so not only did I get to ride some of the way home in company, rather than by myself feeling sorry for myself, I also didn’t miss out on a coffee stop, as we had a break at Sweets Tea Rooms on the way back. I think it’s safe to say that that all worked out splendidly :).

Cycling time: 2:01:21 hrs
Distance: 34.91 miles
AVS: 17.2 mph.
ODO: 12419 miles

My average went up with every stage. 16.6mph to meet them. 16.8mph by coffee, and then with a tail wind and the urge to get home, up to 17.2mph by the time I was done. Not bad. Even better still, as you can see, I managed – just – not to break my self-imposed two hour rule. Rah! Admittedly I might have let myself off the hook today, but it’s nice that I don’t have to *grin*. And if that was too much whingeing for you – it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to *grin*.

Now I believe somebody said red wine was medicinal (it may well have been me) so I think I may have to give that a try later. Then I can swop miserable for maudlin 😉 I surrender…wagon can wait!

The place where I come from is a small town…

It’s more of a large village really, but I’d recommend against using the ‘V’ word around here. If you do, a small mob will probably gather and cart you off in search of a tree to lynch you from. What with the long and distinguished history of the TOWN there’s probably also a small, long forgotten and still extant law lurking on the statue books that means that on Tuesdays in a leap year that’s perfectly permissible. Don’t say you weren’t warned…

This is what happens when you’re riding along happily in the sun. Your brain plays random word association games with the lyrics whispering away in your left ear. There’s really nothing like the head space on a bike. Especially on a day like today. Maybe you have to have days like Sunday’s Mad March Hare (which must surely have gone down in history as the most badass ride ever by now) to truly appreciate days like today? Days when the sun shines, the wind does not blow and, with a little judicious layering, you’re warm enough and can count to twenty on your fingers and toes at any time. Should you want to.

I wanted to ride in the sun. Who wouldn’t? It seemed more important to take advantage of it than usual. Judging by the amount of serious looking lycra out there, a lot of people were thinking the same as me. Although I couldn’t help wonder if they’d have been out on Sunday… 😉 I didn’t want to do the usual type of training loop, as it gets a tad boring and let’s face it, it’s not all that challenging. I did want to do hills, but I didn’t want to go up Shipham because today was not a day for PBs and I didn’t want to start off feeling slow. That starts a ride off on the wrong foot. So I did the Gorge instead, amongst other ups, in a nice sunny loop :).

The Gorge was betwixt and between. Betwixt shadow and sun. Between Winter and Summer. Waking slowly from commercial hibernation, grockles emerging blinking into the light from wherever they’ve been hiding. In short, quite pleasant :). Won’t be for much longer…

a Gorge of contrasts

Clearly it was warm enough for mitts, as I can’t take photos riding along wearing full gloves – it’s just not physically possible. I still had plenty of Rapha layers on though, and got it right today – *phew*. I pottered up in my usual style, and put the worst bit behind me soon enough. I stopped to be charitable along the way as, as a baby goat (yes I know they’re sheep but they look like goats), lying in the sun at the side of the road looking like a dead goat is a very good way to end up a dead goat! With a little persuasion both little families relocated themselves to somewhere safer. Good deed for the day done. It must be Spring, things are clearly breeding!

we are family.

Just as well there wasn't much traffic around...

Somewhere near the top is a memorial to a car accident victim, that is clearly refreshed from time to time. Which was another thing that made me wonder. And it’s very emotive I know. But at what point do you stop using the site of the tragedy as a site of pilgrimage? Is it not better to visit the grave, or the cemetery, or where you scattered the ashes, or somewhere of personal importance? Rather than the arbitary location where someone sadly shuffled off this mortal coil? Hm.

Anyway, let’s get past that and move on. Up up up, but not to the heaviside layer. Up to the top, where usually wind would be, and it wasn’t. Up to a long smooth rolling road, with dappled sunlight and nowhere better to be, which really really didn’t suck *grin*. I just rolled myself along it, up and down, and enjoyed the moment. A lot :).

I went all the way along the right fork, took the left to the Castle of Comfort, and descended via a Harptree. Last time I went down there it was wet and horrible and a little scarey. Today it was a whole heap better. Want to see the view of Chew Valley Lake from the top? You can actually see it! There are some much better, and indeed glorious, views on the way down, but that’s generally considered to be a good time to be having both hands near if not actually on the brakes, not waving around trying to take photos *grin*.

Chew Valley Lake from up on high.

The stretch across the lake reminded me that I was, once more, on the wrong side of the Mendips, by being that little bit colder. Which is an excuse to go that little bit faster I suppose. Weird how much difference those hills make, and how much shelter we must get from them over here.

Lake to the right of me...

Lake to the left of me...

Once through Chew Stoke, which is always surprisingly lumpy, I turned left up the delightfully named Pagans Hill. The lack of punctuation implies that it was once a hill for many pagans. Or maybe that’s where pagans were lynched? A hill made up of pagans? My rides go full circle, sometimes my thoughts do too ;). The climb up to the airport is a nice gradual one that almost goes in steps, and you almost don’t notice it’s happening. Those kind of climbs I like :). You also get to share your route on the ground with the aeroplanes in the skies taking the flightpath down to the airport. Having been born near Farnborough, having attended a great many airshows, and with parents who spent most of my life working in the Defence industry, there may well be a little aviation fuel in my blood, and I really do like aeroplanes :). Come on, it’s pretty impressive that things that size can make it off the ground no? I know there’s plenty of totally logical science behind it, but I’m going to stick to it being magic *grin*. I’m not sure about this one, which certainly isn’t going anywhere anymore, and marks a small industrial estate nearby, but it made for an interesting photo.

Gate guardian

Mere metres down the road, by the entrance to St Catherine’s Church, is this wooden sculpture, making the most of what was once a mighty tree. Did Redbull give it wings? Is he/she about to take flight? Did the wax melt, and leave it earthly bound, gazing wistfully at the sky? I kinda like it 🙂

I don't know why...

...but I like it 🙂

My wings came out to fly me down Brockley Combe which I enjoyed immensely, once I made myself ignore the Total tanker behind me who, to give him credit, did realise after the first couple of corners (which I went ’round faster than he could) that he might as well hang back and wait until the straight bit near the bottom. Many thanks anonymous tanker drive man :). It’s a lovely descent but, though I can’t believe I’m saying it, almost not fast enough unless you pedal *grin*.

Shortly after that I came to my favourite sign in the whole world which I finally get to share to you. Amusingly I’m always going left at this point which is, arguable, the wrong direction, no? 😉 At least where I need to go if I need a boost in the future *grin*. I met a couple of touring cyclists here and we had a brief chat about the lovely weather, the best way to the Strawberry Line and whether or not my overshoes actually did the job. (Yes, they do).

Motivation corner

I left them behind, feeling all smug roadie, and actually managed not to get lost around Claverham, which may be a first. To be fair, I did think I was lost, I just turned out not to be! There’s a couple of the most consistently disgusting patches of road around there, covering in thick churned up “mud” and stones, all related to one particular farm, and quite lethal. I bet Dad knows exactly where I mean too. If that’s the state they keep their farm and roads in I have to say I wouldn’t knowingly go buying anything they produce!

Not far to go now, as these things go. Back through Yatton to Churchill to go and find the last chunk of climbing of the day. Since it worked out well last time with the ACG I wanted to go back up through Rowberrow which I duly did. Just to see if last time was a fluke. And it went just as well, which was gratifying. Up at the top the views were lovely, and I do generally find that the sunnier it gets the further it is best to be from Weston *grin*.

Weston Super Mare in the distance

That just left me the main reason I was there, if I’m being honest, which was to go home down Shipham Hill. A dry, clear, sunny, swoopy Shipham Hill. *happy sigh*…

Cycling time: 2:28:16 hrs
Distance: 37.7 miles
AVS: 15.2 mph.
ODO: 12384 miles

OK, not the fastest ride in the world, but it did involve a fair bit of climbing. I certainly wasn’t pushing it, and I think there was still a little event recovery going on too. It was however a very lovely ride which I enjoyed a great deal, and that’s really the point :).

Mad March Hare Sportive 2012

The sanity of the cyclist is frequently debatable…

At 5:15am this morning, GB texted me to say was I awake, was I keen, and were we doing it anyway? This makes more sense when you consider that it was already raining, all of 5C, and not forecast to be any better where we were going. In fact the forecast for B47 6AJ included a not inconsiderable wind that was due to change direction halfway through the ride (yes, headwind all day) and the possibility of snow, whichever weather website I used – and believe me I have a whole range of those at my fingertips. Despite all of this, I replied in the affirmative 3 times :). Clearly I was awake, and I was caffeine fuelled keen, and not going back to bed anytime soon, so we might as well be doing it anyway, right? Besides this was to be my first event riding and writing for Cyclosport, it was my first “proper” sportive of the season, I’ve done it three times before and it’s become my annual season starter, and I’d paid for it! So even if weather related bailing was the kind of thing I do, which it isn’t, it so wasn’t going to happen today.

The same cannot be said for around 250 of the 500 people signed up to do the event. Not so much DNF as DNA. Bunch of lightweights the lot of you ;). Having said that…

It rained on us all the way up the M5. It was raining when we parked in the large field next to the shed building that was HQ. It rained as we trudged across the long wet grass to sign in, which took no time at all. Over more muddy grass to use the portable loos – two of which were set aside for females, which was much appreciated. Back to the car to stand in the rain assembling bikes, attaching numbers, faffing around deciding on layers. GB told me, quite rightly, to stop faffing and put on as much as I could. As is frequently the case, he was right, and I should have paid more attention. I did put on more than I was going to, but as it turns out, not as much as I could have or should have.

The view of the weather at the start.

Back to HQ to meet up with the BW, and another trip through the grass and mud to the toilet – darn that morning coffee. This had the unfortunate side effect of meaning that my feet were soaked through already – from the bottom up – not a good start. The BW finally arrived. In shorts, having lost one of his legwarmers yesterday… I refrained from the urge to tell him that this was a somewhat debatable decision, since he has one mother already, and I have my own children to tell off! But still…!

Cyclists hiding in the HQ and putting off heading out into the weather for as long as possible!

Cyclists gathering at the start line.

Time to get going as we were already wet and cold and not getting any warmer hanging around. Numbers and start times were noted down by the organisation and we were on our way. Oh man it was cold out there! It was clearly going to take longer than the usual twenty minutes to warm up… In fact the closest I came to warm was the first hill of any note about 12km/8miles in. I think I pulled my zip down a couple of inches, from whence it went back up again pretty darn quickly as soon as I reached the top! And that was it for sartorial adjustment for the day really. The rain continued. The cold wind blew. There was more and more standing water to deal with. Lots of concentrating and trying to avoid hidden potholes. The BW hared off (pun intended), presumably trying to keep warm, whilst those of us who are definitely older, and possibly wiser, flew along as best we could in a more measured fashion. Us tortoises turned him into a Hare for real when we reeled him in and passed him before Willersey. To be fair he looked in a pretty bad way, cold and done in.

The first big hill of the day came about 59km/37 miles in. Having been getting slowly more and more cold, I’d almost been looking forward to it, as I was hoping it would warm me up a bit. It’s a big long fairly steep constant climb up Saintbury Hill. To emphasise how cold and wintery it was, we did this in the snow. Yes. It snowed. In fact visibility became severely restricted due to the amount of the falling white stuff. Add some wind to that and it was a bit like going into hyperspace! (Those of you of a certain age know exactly what I mean and don’t pretend you aren’t/don’t!). And don’t let anyone ever tell you that snowflakes are soft fluffy things. Not when you’re cycling into them they’re not! I think that’s a first for me – a sportive in the snow. Limited novelty value it has to be said. Quite a lot of people resorted, for whatever reason, to walking up the hill which, if I could have felt my feet, might have been attractive. But I was feeling as stubborn as ever, and actually went up it pretty well and definitely with less zig-zagging than last year. Sadly due to the being wet already, and the snow, and the wind, it really didn’t warm me up much. After a bit more climbing we reached the small feed station in a layby on the right hand side, well stocked with bananas, flapjacks and free SIS gels…though hot coffee would have been more welcome ;). I ate some of what turned out to be a very nice uncoated orange Zipvit energy bar that I had, and swopped my soaking wet gloves for drier ones from my saddle bag. It was neither the time nor place for hanging around, and although we waited for the BW there was no sign of him, so we headed off on our way again. (I gather he gave in to the powers that be (aka his Dad in support car behind) and called it a day at around the 60 mile mark).

that’s a snow cloud and the flying white bits are snow!

Looks nice out there doesn’t it? 😉

There was another similar climb, albeit a little shorter, about 7 miles later, which also went well. Descents were less fun than they might have been due to the need to pay attention to the road, and brake in the wet. I was clearly getting colder and colder…I hadn’t had feet for hours, and my hands were well on the way to joining them wherever they were, even in the drier gloves. It always amazes me how much cold parts of your anatomy can hurt! Braking when your hands aren’t all there is…interesting. About 90 mins from the end, after a rather dangerous crossing of the A46, we stopped to grab some more food, and I nearly fell over trying to stand up on feet that I didn’t have anymore! As we ate I realised I had actually started shivering, and we headed off pdq. I don’t think my body has ever been that cold on a bike, let alone tried shivering whilst riding one, and it’s a very weird feeling. It’s trying to do all the things required to propel you along, and to shiver at the same time, which does odd things to your stomach muscles. Which, considering the current state of my insides and the fact that today the painkillers dismally failed to work, is not a nice thing.

Like it or not, life got a little slower. When you can only feel 10% of your hands, gear changes are not a spontaneous thing. They are planned in advance and frequently attempted several times! Braking is a cautious thing, just in case… I was so cold that my brain stopped working properly for a while and I was tad worried that I was just going to stop functioning altogether and end up in some ungainly heap on the floor wondering how I’d gotten there! Luckily this didn’t happen. Even though by now the rain had stopped, this was way beyond too little too late. The temperature may have gone up a degree or so, GB was now ahead of me blazing a trail for me to follow, and however we did it, we got back to the start in one piece. Two pieces? ;). It turns out a lot of those who had turned up hadn’t made it all the way round – DNFs. There’s a rumour that I was the first woman home! Not sure that’s ever happened before! *grin*. Go me!

: Free hot drinks at HQ afterwards.

Along with free bacon rolls or, if like me you can’t eat bacon rolls for some reason, homemade vegetable soup.

Paul Prince, organiser extraordinaire.

I had a quick chat with Paul Prince, who organises it, whilst drinking my soup. It being the fourth year of the Mad March Hare, it’s come a long way, though I kinda miss the Easter Bunny costume he wore first time around 😉 The new venue is a great improvement and there are plans to expand the event in the future. Due to the poor turnout this year they may keep the route the same for next year though, since it’ll still be new to a lot of people! The organisation had all gone really smoothly, and I can personally vouch for the homemade vegetable soup – very yummy 🙂 It’s still much cheaper to enter than a lot of the sportives out there and is extremely good value for money. Well you can’t blame the organisers for the weather, now can you?!

Even with warm food on the inside, I couldn’t stop shivering, and it was getting worse and worse. I’ve never had that reaction before, but then I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold and so wet on the bike for so long! Time to get back to the car, get sorted, and head to the nearest services to get changed into dry clothes somewhere warm, and drink a large caramel macchiato. Even so it took quite a while longer down the M5 for the shaking to finally stop. Hypothermia anyone?

And as we went South for winter, as could have been predicted, the skies cleared…typical.

Roadworks and sun on the M5.

Cycling time: 5:05 hrs
Distance: 78 miles with 1100 metres of climbing
AVS: 15.4 mph.
ODO: 12347 miles

Ish. GB says I’m over recording. Anyway… In retrospect, with the infamous 20:20 hindsight I should have warn my thermal tights under my longs, and a different combo of jersey/jackets, but even so, I think that might only have delayed the loss of extremities, not prevented it. Until I got proper cold I was doing really well, and even once frozen, my legs and the engine were feeling pretty good – just distracted by pain and hindered by lack of functionality! I don’t think I can have been said to enjoyed it, other than in masochistic fashion, but we turned up, we did it, and we are once again officially badass *grin*. First sportive of the season – done 🙂

Hoping for blue skies next time…

UPDATE:

My official time is 5:22. Looks like 179 riders finished, and I’m around 48th. Not bad 🙂 Spare a thought for those poor hardy souls who were out there for hours more – longest time recorded is 8:07!

Also – the official Cyclosport review is now up – about which I’m very excited and very proud. Lots of people have said very nice things about it too. Very cool indeed :).