Tag Archives: sportive

The Tour of Pembrokeshire 2016 Prologue

Right then, where was I? Well, certainly not riding the bike as much as I’d like to be. It finally got cold for a bit there, so the risk of ice was rather a deterrent. And there’s been other rubbish weather, and other factors. Not the least of which being that I’d ended up with my head stuck in that place where you’re convinced you’re just crap at the whole riding thing. Again.

So I was somewhat apprehensive about dragging my arse all the way over to Newport to do this year’s Tour of Pembrokeshire Prologue on Friday 22nd January. That’s the Newport in Pembrokeshire 3.5 hours away, not the one just over the water by the way. Not only is it a bl**dy long drive, it’s also seriously hilly over there, my form had been rubbish, the weather had been horrible and the forecast was dubious… Let’s face it, it did not look like being a whole heap of fun!

I went anyway. It’s what I do. I got up at stupid o-clock, in the pitch black and went west. A longer than planned drive there, through Storm Whatever, in torrential rain and scary winds, did not perk me up any. Apparently my little car can swim! Negotiating my first proper flood ever, I over-did the speed, under-estimated the bow wave, and very briefly had water over the bonnet…oops! I made it through, but after all of that, I was seriously wondering if I would be riding the bike at all. Maybe I could just turn up, partake of the sociable elements of the event, and come home again…?

However as I got much closer to my final destination the weather started to clear, finally ending up behind me, and Pembrokeshire started to look much more attractive. Day had arrived, the skies had cleared, and by the time I arrived at “restaurant with rooms” Llys Meddyg, which was both HQ for the event and my home for the night, it was bright, dry, and rather surprisingly considering the freezing temperatures early in the week – it was warm! Well, by comparison anyway. How does 14°C sound? Sounds good, right? 🙂

Although I was staying at the hotel, its car park was chokka, there was, as you might say, no room at the inn. I blocked a whole heap of people in, unloaded the car into the lobby, and then parked up across the road and got the bike sorted. My recently fitted mudguards had survived the journey, and I managed to get the front wheel back on and all chafe free fairly easily. Leaving the bike outside the hotel I was allowed to get into my room earlier than usual check in and so could faff a bit. Having travelled down in kit there wasn’t too much to do, but considering how warm it was, I decided the base layer had to come off as I was baking already! Back downstairs riders were gathering, milling around, drinking coffee and generally getting in each other’s way going to and fro. I signed the relevant sheet of paper and picked up my emergency map, but passed on the coffee. Well, there wasn’t going to be a coffee stop en route and I didn’t want to need one, if you see what I mean! 😉

comparing Van Nicholas

The time came for us all to gather outside rather than in. There were around 40 of us, about to be split into three groups on two routes. The longer route – c. 54 miles – would have a faster group and a slower group. The shorter route – c. 24 miles – would be just one group. Shorter, slower, sociable. As you’ll have gathered by now, my PMA was pretty much AWOL, so it was definitely going to be the latter group for me! Even with the sun shining, and the unseasonable warmth I decided I’d be better off taking it easy and enjoying it, than risking the longer route. I know 24 miles is nothing, and sounds pathetic. I know 54 miles really isn’t that far either. However, as I mentioned earlier, Pembrokeshire is NOT flat. Which is by way of being a serious understatement. I’ve done the Tour proper a few times, and the Prologue a couple, and I know that 54 miles around here is easily equivalent to 100 miles somewhere flat! So…discretion, valour, limits, etc…

Joshua Fiddy's briefing

Time for a briefing from Joshua Fiddy, one of the Tour of Pembrokeshire organisers, who welcomed everyone and gave us an introduction to the ride. Each group would have two of the team with them which, in our case, would include Peter, previously chief organiser of the Tour of Pembrokeshire. There would be, and was, a support vehicle out en route with us in case of punctures, mechanicals or other problems, staffed by staff from Pembrokeshire bikes in Narbeth. All very supportive, all very sportive 😉

We were set off in shifts. Short slow, slow long, fast long; so as to keep the groups all a bit closer together overall than would happen otherwise. Off we went into the as gorgeous as ever Pembrokeshire countryside. It was just so lovely to be cycling somewhere different, and to be feeling warm! Dry overhead, if not under wheel. After the first climb I realised I was also feeling relatively on form, and not only was I not getting left behind I was actually near the front of our group and feeling pretty good. ‘Rah!

Being familiar with the general route, I knew roughly what I was in for for a while at least, and settled into it. In no particular order… The hairpins and the ensuing slog upwards at Moylegrove went up and on for just as long as ever, although it didn’t feel like quite as much hard work as sometimes. The wiggly descent down to the sea, with stunning views, made my spirits lift and my face smile, as usual. A descent that quite a few people missed as the left turn for that particular diversion came amidst another descent and what with the groups getting spread out and somewhat muddled up, well..if you didn’t know the turning was there…you just went flying past. I’m glad I didn’t 🙂 The descent to Poppit Sands was much fun, and I still think it’s an adorable name for a place, don’t you poppet? All in all, even with all the ups, I was having a good time 🙂

Poppit Sands

It has to be said that, as you may have gathered, the groups did not stay together. What with missed turns, varying abilities, and the odd bit of getting lost even when with a leader, things went a bit to pot. One such error led to us going up a most impressive, and new to me, hill out of St Dogmaels, which was steep and long and, very very oddly, which I loved! I didn’t want to turn around and go back and see if we’d gone the wrong way. I just wanted to keep going on up it and see if it was doable. Hello crawler gear 🙂 And it was totally doable, and I totally did it, and once t’were done, there turned out to be just three of us left when we gathered at the top! The support vehicle stopped to chat briefly, and assured us we were on track…which would only turn out to prove that they were a little lost too! Still, the other lady in our three knew the area, I soon recognised some familiar tarmac, and with her help and some guess work we were back on track in no time. Bae_hawk_t1_xx245_inflight_arp

And thus it remained for the remainder of the ride. Three of us, with a vague idea of where we were, a map that turned out to be barely legible and therefore not a lot of use, and a lady who knew better, and who, come hell or high water or, in one case another massive flood that we had to ride through, would get us back to base. Which she did. And even somewhat lost, and slogging back into a head wind, it was still lovely. Warm, sunny, chatty… There were two fighter trainer planes, Hawks I think, hurtling around the sky Top Gun style, making a tremendous noise and (I reckon) having even more fun than I was. Yet another reason for me to *grin*.

Some more ups, some more downs, and then we were back on the swoopy main road to Newport, and I let rip for a little while, having been taking it easy all morning, just for the fun of it…I do like to hurtle sometimes 🙂 It was a ride that did wonders to revive my PMA and unexpectedly was just what I needed. It was so nice to be enjoyably reminded that I can ride a bike, I can go up hills, and that riding a bike is fun 🙂

We three, we happy three, were the first back to Llys Meddg, unsurprisingly. With our lunch not due until mid afternoon, at 3pm, this left me with plenty of time to stash the bike away, have a lovely long shower, and chill out in lazy be-robed fashion in my room for a while. Bliss 🙂 By the time 3pm rolled around, a lot more of us were back, but by no means all, and there was a steady drip feed of returning riders as the afternoon progressed. Lunch turned out to be, in Peter’s judgement at least, the “best shepherd’s pie he’s ever eaten”. I don’t know if I’d go that far, but then I’m no shepherd’s pie connoisseur. It was pretty good though, and the sticky toffee pudding with cream afterwards was more than pretty good, it was fantastic! Presumably that’s why it’s an award-winning restaurant? I’m not sure I’d entirely earned such gratuitous calorific intake, but hey, it would have been rude not to…

There was a lot of the usual cycling banter over food, and drinks afterwards, and gradually riders peeled away one by one to head for homes. I on the other hand was staying over, so Peter and I took a trip to see the new venue for the 2016 Tour of Pembrokeshire, at Crug Glas, a little way out of St David’s. As we left, the last of the riders was just rolling in… Anyway, back to the new venue. Not only is this a (having stayed there before) very superior boutique country house hotel in scenic grounds, but it now has a new purpose built/converted barn affair, for weddings, events, and as it turns out, sportives. It’s very nice, and very swish. The new venue means that everything can now be all in one place – free parking, registration, start/finish, food afterwards…the works, which has to be an improvement. There’s even a bar…

And that’s not the only change to the event. The three routes – 50, 75 & 100 miles – have been tweaked for 2016, to make them flow better apparently which, having done the Tour several times before, I’m quite excited about, because when I’m back there in April, I’ll get to try them out and discover some new roads. Not that this will make 100 miles, and over 10,000 feet of climbing, any the easier mind. But after the Prologue, I can honestly say I’m looking forward to it, even though it’s gonna hurt! I have been quoted in various places as saying that the Tour of Pembrokeshire is a “must-do event” and I really do think it is. Brilliantly well organised, stunning scenery, and a range of challenging routes. What more do you want? See you on April 23rd. Go on, sign up, you know you want to 🙂

Cycling time: 2:00
Distance: 23.2 miles
Avs: 11.6 miles
ODO: 17830 miles

Wiggle Bitter Beast 2015

Right then. Time for the final sportive of the season – the Wiggle Bitter Beast Sportive. Which I’d really been looking forward to, oddly, because it’s a part of the world I really like, and cycling around the Jurassic Coast seemed like a pretty good way to round off the season. However as the weekend drew near, so did Storm Barney and although it was due to have blown over by then, and yes I did do that on purpose, there were still some pretty impressive winds due to be blowing around on the day.

Hm. I hate wind. Which I’m sure I’ve mentioned before. And with 40-50mph winds it’s not just that I don’t like them, they can actually be dangerous. But I wanted to do it. But 2 hours is a long way to go to then be miserable for 70 miles. But I hate bailing. And then my work threw an extra spanner in the works. Having been doing the social media for the Cairo-Cape Town world record bike race attempt for the previous few weeks, it turned out that the team were now due to arrive in Cape Town, and break that record, somewhere around 4-5pm on that Sunday. Their time. Which would be 2-3pm our time. And I really needed to be home or at the very least on-line for that, to keep the world updated, follow them in, and spread the word afterwards. Quite important really. No point doing the job and then missing that bit!

To cut a long and clearly not that exciting story short, after a little encouragement from others, I made a decision. I’d do it. I’d get up at stupid o’clock. Drive to Bovington Tank Museum. Do the shorter 40 mile route. Drive back, and be home in time to get to work. OK, so that all seems like a bit much to just do 40 miles but, as I said, I hate bailing, I wanted to do it, and more than that, since I’d been given a place so as to review it, I really felt like I should do that. Yep, I’m still pretty conscientious 🙂

Which brings me to HQ, at Bovington Tank Museum, on a very windy, chilly, grey and slightly damp Sunday morning. I was amongst the first arriving, having aimed to be so, with my usual “sooner started, sooner finished” thing going on, and was marshalled to park in the museum car park. I was sort of midway between the start line and the main museum building, neither of which were far away. Time to register before faffing then. Which I quite enjoyed. Well, registering for a sportive doesn’t usually involve quite so many tanks, and it was quite nice to get a peek at them all without having to pay. As eldest has just done his EPQ on how tanks developed as a result of and through the course of World War II, it turns out I’ve recently had quite a lot to do with tanks, and having seen the place for myself now, we’ll definitely be going back next year to pay to visit it properly. Tanks are cool, right? 🙂

Not only did I get to look at tanks, but registration was also inside, warm, dry, and had plenty of facilities. And it was also easy. Sign up, get a map, bike number, three cable ties, and the essential helmet timing chip. No queue. Unlike the Gents. But not the Ladies. Result 🙂 There’s always a perverse pleasure to be be taken from walking past their queue… Schadenfreude?

All that being done, t’were time to get back to the car, layer up, load the bike up, and head for the Start line. Being amongst the first at a smallish event where I imagine the no-show rate was fairly high too, thanks again to Barney, there were only a few of us waiting to be briefed, so it didn’t take long, and all of five minutes later I was off.

To be fair, although yes, it was bl**dy windy out there, it wasn’t quite as bad as I’d worried it might be. We were starting in the top and middle of a loop so…it goes something like this. Out into the wind for a bit. Down with side winds. Along with the wind behind. Up with side winds. Back into the wind to the Finish. Well, ish. What with there being quite a lot of trees around, there was more shelter than I was expecting. Still, it was bl**dy hard work quite a lot of the time. I have to say I wasn’t really feeling it. I’d definitely felt better on the bike. As Alan might put it, I didn’t have any zing. But since I knew I only had 40 miles to do, it wasn’t really a problem and my PMA remained relatively intact.

At least while slogging along there were thatched cottages and churches and villages and things to look at. And colourful autumn leaves. Well ok, a lot of them were on the road rather than on the trees, but hey, they were still pretty. Quite a lot of the land around there is military owned and not developed, and a lot of it also seems to be forestry, which keeps it feeling lovely and peaceful and rural. There are tank tracks, tank ranges, and military camps all over the place, all of which made the Tank Museum the perfectly logical HQ I think. The military land also came complete with red flags flying, warning that today trespassing on that land would be even less of a good idea than usual 😉

I’m was pleased to discover that there wasn’t too much climbing involved to make life even harder. I know there are some nasty hills around there, but every time we got near one of those that I vaguely remember, with my heart sinking, we’d end up not going up it and going in a different direction. This is not to say it was completely flat though, there were some ups, even the odd steepish one. The worst climb I think was the long drag down south, up to the coast. It went on for miles. Literally; it didn’t just feel like it did! Still if you’re going to get views, you have to go up, right? Sometimes up there you could even see the sea! OK, so I didn’t get to be by the beach this time around, but the sight of the sun breaking through the clouds and over the sea, if not over me, was well worth it. And after however long slogging up there, the lovely descent into West Lulworth, which I realised was coming about half way up the hill, was a joy 🙂

West Lulworth, about 26 miles in, was also where the food stop was. Marshalls were trying to slow arriving riders down, and there was a degree of chaos with riders deciding what to do, going in, coming out… Since I was feeling fine, and only doing the short route, I decided I really didn’t need to waste time, or intake food/drink (I travelled equipped as ever), so I just wiggled around them all and kept going. It being a Wiggle event I imagine it was as well stocked as ever though, they’ve had enough experience by now!

What goes down must go up sadly, and it was quite a long steepish climb back up from there. However this I knew, having done it before, which always makes up easier to deal with, and I just engaged crawler gear and got on with it. The wind was now essentially behind me and I won’t pretend it didn’t help push me up there a bit too. Sometimes wind is ok 😉 Having saluted the gate guardian tanks at Lulworth Camp near the top, and put the climb likewise behind me, the wind was more than ok for a while after that too. Wheee…..! Who’s going to turn down a few miles of sort of down/flat with a storm behind you? Not me 🙂

Time for the route split then. On another day I’d have loved to do the long route. Having looked at it beforehand I had noticed however that it didn’t include my favourite road here – the long climb up the coast past the tank target ranges, and I had half considered doing it anyway just for fun. It would have been the more logical way to go for the long route too…so I had been a bit bemused as to why it wasn’t en route…but the big red flags, and a road closed sign, explained why it wasn’t included. It also meant that I wasn’t going to be doing it for fun today either. Ah well, maybe another time? Waving a slightly regretful farewell to the road ahead, where Corfe Castle and Swanage beckoned, I took the left turn, turned tail, and headed back.

The return leg wasn’t quite so much fun, putting me gradually back into the wind. There were some interesting wiggles to get around main roads and junctions, and after hurtling off one big roundabout to get away from the traffic I missed the “turn right almost instantly” sign and nearly ended up in a military camp…though I’m thinking the armed guard and massive security gate might have prevented that from actually happening! The small bit of cycle path not long after, which would normally annoy me, took in a very pretty bridge, river, and small country pile, which placated me nicely 😉 Back to the road, and not so long after that I was being welcomed back to HQ by big tanks, and riding under the Finish arch.

After owning up to my Short route choice, I was presented with various goodies and a Wiggle Finishers t-shirt. I caused some consternation by asking for it in Large. “What, really?” Which I cleared up by explaining it would end up on eldest not me. At least they didn’t just look at me and go “yeah, no kidding” 😉 *grin*. And there you have it; Wiggle Bitter Beast done. And, as it turns out, even though it felt like hard work, and not stopping probably helped, I got me a Gold time! Woohoo! I’ve added it to my list of events to go back and do next year, to do the long route – but there’ll be no gold for that I bet 😉

I took myself back to the car for a quick change, and a quick trip to HQ to powder my nose, and then the not so quick 2 hour drive back home. I didn’t have time to hang around and besides, I have a new sportive tactic now too – pre-load the car with fizzy orange so I’ve always got some to drink afterwards, so I didn’t need to spend time finding some. Remind me about that next season? 🙂

You’ll be pleased to hear I got back home in time. As did the CAROCAP team, albeit a few hours later than planned – the wind did for them too! They did what they planned to do, I did what I planned to. I got a ride in, I (finally!) reviewed it, and I was home in time to spend the rest of the afternoon/evening sat on the sofa, on Facebook and Twitter, live posting the team in and playing a very tiny part in their amazing record. They cycled from Cairo to Cape Town in 38 days + some hours, beating the previous record by around 3 days. Which puts 40 miles around the Jurassic Coast well and truly into perspective, doesn’t it? *grin*.

Cycling time: 2:37
Distance: 38.6 miles
Avg: 14.7 mph
ODO: 11642.7 miles

Give pain a rain check

So this year’s sportive season is over. And yes, I’ll write about that sportive in due course as usual, that being what I do, even if it sometimes takes me a while to get around to it.

But in the meantime…

Another season done. One amazing training camp followed by 18 sportives of varying length and varying levels of form and performance. It’s also been my 11th year of cycling, having started out in 2005, and I’ve been doing the many sportives thing for around seven years now. Right now it doesn’t feel like a many splendored thing though. I’m not sure I can face another year of doing the same thing over and over, on my own, and not being good enough. Although I’m well aware that that is…well, good enough for what? For who? In comparison to whom? Who’s judging me anyway? And besides which does it matter if anyone is? Etc. Nonetheless…

As the year has gone on, my health has been deteriorating again. This means I’m in more and more pain for more and more of the time. As a result I’m usually on fairly heavy duty drugs. Which isn’t great in and of itself, but they also have other interesting side effects. I have sod all appetite for starters. Or mains, or desserts 😉 So I’m eating even less than usual, and thanks to my IBS, eating wasn’t something I was all that keen on or bothered about anyway. On the upside there’s less of me, and hey, nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, right? And talking of taste? Yeah, it screws up my taste buds too. I’ve even gone off beer. Yes people, you heard right. Off. Beer. The end of the world may indeed be nigh, get your houses in order 😉 Since I try not to be on the drugs all the time, when I do have to take them, and am not habituated, they also turn me into a bit of a zombie. And yes, you might think being permanently stoned is fun, but it isn’t…the novelty wore off quite some time ago.

None of which makes cycling any easier I reckon. I swear it sometimes takes as much energy to keep it together on the bike as it does to actually ride the darn thing. Riding sometimes also makes the pain worse, but it makes my head better, and since the state of play sometimes gets me down I need to ride…ooh, it’s all so circular 😉 Even when I have the pain under control, my body is still dealing with it even if I’m not actually aware that that is going on, so I imagine it’s working harder than I think. And thanks to the calorie deficit levels, I don’t seem to have reserves like I used to, I don’t have enough stored in the tank to ride on. So I tire easily, get cold easily, and generally don’t have what I had. Mind you, my body is an amazing thing really. Look at everything it’s going through, and what I put it through, and what it does and can do regardless. Pretty awesome 🙂

The chances are that there is more surgery in my future. I have an appointment with my consultant, this time via the NHS, in January. It being the NHS, I’m thinking I could probably get away with avoiding the knife until next Autumn at least though, what with waiting lists and all that jazz. So I can still make some cycling plans. I have my amazing prize, my 5 day Spanish cycling trip, in February. And I have a vague Maratona plan shaping up for 2017. But for 2016, I think a goal would be good. Possibly essential. Something that gives all these sportives meaning, makes them part of a training routine. And I’d prefer it to be something I do in company. In fact I’d like to cycle with more people more of the time, and not just because it’s probably better to have company in case I lose it completely and need picking up off the tarmac 😉 I’d just like cycling to be more of a social, sociable thing than it has been this year… Back to goals though. I have no idea what that should/could be. The Etape is out, the route doesn’t interest me. And it doesn’t have to be a sportive or an event. I’m open to ideas…fire away if you have any suggestions!

Considering how I’m feeling, mentally and physically, it is definitely the end of the season. Even though, as is oddly and always surprisingly, frequently the case, it turns out that yesterday’s sportive went a lot better than I felt like it did. I was a golden girl 😉 But it felt like hard work, it hurt, and my head wasn’t really in the game. Which has been the case for the last couple of sportives really, and I think I’ve possibly had a elegant sufficiency of them for the time being. Just as well it was my last one this year then 😉 I just feel a bit like I’ve been fighting too many battles on too many fronts somehow. I’m even thinking of maybe taking a break from the bike. Or at least making a conscious effort to do it differently. With a different focus. Which will be easier since training is less of an issue for a little while at least. I think it’s time to sit back and enjoy the ride, and when I can get out there, remember to be grateful that I’m riding at all. But I’m not going to let this beat me. I shall remember there have been some real high points this year, and that there will be more ahead. PMA here I come! 🙂

The high point of my year. Literally 😉

Evans Ride It Wiltshire Downs 2015

Me oh my, I am such a long way behind. But there’s been so much going on! Riding, working, Dad’s birthday, life…what can I say?

A lot of the two weeks prior to this sportive was spent trying to get my knee better. Resting more, riding less. Though probably not quite enough of one and too much of the other. But hey, I was trying…!

Since the Welsh Raider, when things went a little pear shaped, I’d done a flat easy run with Alan, a flat short loop on my own, another easy run with the ever-patient Alan, and a nice seaside loop with, unsurprisingly, Alan again. And slowly things had been getting better. Riding was not pain free but it was improving, and the time required to recover off the bike had been coming down.

Cycling time: 6:32
Distance: 99.2 miles

All of which means it was time for another sportive. The Evans Ride It Wiltshire Downs, to be precise. It’s fairly local, which means a shorter drive and more time in bed. And coming as it did, the day after the clocks went back, that means another hour in bed, and daylight to drive in. Very handy! Even better, the forecast was good, and that drive took place in autumn sunshine, something you wouldn’t have predicted considering that it spent all Saturday p*ssing it down…!

HQ was at Wiltshire College, Lacock, at the end of a long, muddy, leaf covered drive, which would turn out to be pretty typical of all the roads for the day. It may have been dry overhead, but not under wheel! I parked up in a muddy gravel carpark a little way from registration and decided that I’d get sorted and then register rather than to-ing and fro-ing. It being October, even with the sun shining, it was pretty darned cold, somewhere around 6°C, so it was just a case of putting on all the layers I’d brought with me, loading up the bike and my pockets, and heading off. There were toilets in a changing room block opposite where the gentlemen were queuing and where I didn’t have to, and as it turns out, there were also more inside by registration. I registered, and the lady stuck my timing sticker on the right hand side of my helmet which was unusual, it’s usually t’other side. No bike number, so presumably no photography either, a map, and a High5 race day pack, and I was done. Since I had no intention of returning to the car to stash anything, I plundered the pack for the useful and discarded the rest.

Back outside, and the queue for the start was stretching a long way back, which was a bit disheartening, with the thought of standing around in the cold for ages not appealing. Still, it turned out not to be too bad in the sunshine, and the other riders around were chatty and sociable and as riders were being let away in fairly big groups, it wasn’t long until we were the next group, with me right at the front of it. No pressure then! After the usual rider briefing, a demo of the black on pink arrows, again novel, and a reminder that this was all supposed to be fun, we were off on our way.

Wiltshire College doesn’t half like its speed bumps! I’m not sure when we stopped being on the estate, presumably when they finally ended! Somewhat oddly, I seemed to have left my group pretty much behind me, so it felt like it was just me heading out into the Wiltshire countryside. My camera had somehow run out of batteries, so there’s not a lot of photographic evidence of my day sadly…which is a shame because it was absolutely beautiful out there. Glorious in fact. I’ve cycled around this area before, most notably on the White Horse Challenge, but a lot of this route was completely unfamiliar to me, and I’ve never seen the Downs stretched out around me like that before. Stunning 🙂

Having got my layers spot on, after the initial chill had worn off and I’d warmed up, so about an hour then, I was pretty happy out there. There were a few ups, but nothing too terrible, and most of it seemed to be being fairly flat or rolling. So, on to mental meanderings and route decisions to mull over. There were a lot of options, and route splits came one after the other – no front loading this time. Would it be the Fun route at 15 miles? Nah, don’t be daft. Ok then, how about the Short at 34 miles, the Medium at 63 miles, or the Long at 80 miles? Hm… No rush to decide though. The first food stop came at 28 miles in, in a pub car park, where the two outdoor toilets were proving woefully inadequate for the number of people wanting to use them. I duly queued, and then after grabbing some jelly beans, and taking the odd photo with my phone, headed off again. The next route split came shortly afterwards, but even though I reckon there were at least three things wrong with me, because I’m lucky like that, I still reckoned the Short route would be too short.

I did decide however that, although the longest route appealed, and let’s face it, it was a beautiful day to be out there, it would be unwise to push it. I reckoned I could manage the 60 without making things too much worse, whereas with the 80, with the bigger climbs in the extra miles, I might set my knee’s recovery back quite a way, which seemed like a daft idea. So when the next split came along shortly afterwards, I took it. Which meant that I was half done already and on the homewards stretch. A stretch that took me through more beautiful countryside but back on to more familiar turf. Not that I’m complaining, I love cycling through Avebury 🙂 The lack of novelty did make it feel slightly like harder work though somehow, less to distract the brain from the effort being put in? I guess I was also getting tireder, I’m fairly sure I hadn’t eaten enough, (nothing new there then), and being ill does have a habit of taking it out of you even if you are doing a very good job of ignoring that 😉 Still the scenery continued to keep my spirits up far enough. Multi-coloured autumn leaves, close cropped fields still golden in the sunshine, blue skies stretching for miles… Sorry, since I’m short on photos I thought I’d try poetic words instead 😉

Towards the end there was a long draggy staged up that went on for a couple of miles. Hardish work but my kind of climb, and man, the descent afterwards was way more than worth it! OK, so there were “Caution” signs and there were other riders who were gingerly braking their way down, but I could see all the way down, it wasn’t very bendy, and there wasn’t any traffic coming so….yep, I was the loon hurtling down on the right with a massive grin on my face 😉 A couple of miles after that and I was back negotiating speed bumps, and then crossing the finish line, where I was given another High5 taster pack. Job done 🙂 There were lots of happy riders milling around in the sunshine and eating the hot food on sale. I took a break on a step with a can of fizzy lemon, before making my way back to the car.

Cycling time: 4:04
Distance: 62.2 miles
Avg: 15.3 mph
ODO: 11487.7 miles

High5 taster pack

I may not have done the event justice, but I’d definitely do it again. In fact I actively want to. The route is lovely, the scenery is stunning, and it’s not too challenging – so it was perfect for this time of year. Maybe next year I’ll get to do the long route 🙂

Cycling Weekly Welsh Raider 2015

Apologies for the delay…usual excuses…etc. But hey, better late than never so here goes…

Most of my sportives are only a couple of hours away. It means they’re within driving distance and I can get there and back in a day. And the Welsh Raider was no different. But what with the nights drawing in and not feeling great these days, I figured I could use a couple of extra hours sleep the night before, and booked myself into the nearest Travelodge. Presumably that’s travelodgical…*groan*.

So on Friday night, off I went. Yes, Friday. The Welsh Raider was on a Saturday. I always like that, it means you have Sunday to recover and relax, and you don’t lose your entire weekend to one sportive. It was getting dark as I set off, and and proper dark when I arrived, having spent a couple of hours blindly following my satnav along a whole range of pitch black country roads. with no idea of what the scenery was like. Mind you, at least that kind of road means I stay awake – motorways + medication tend to send me to sleep, which ain’t great. Anway, I may have had no idea where I was when I got there, but I was pretty sure I was in the right place, as I parked up next to the UK Cycling Events van!

Having checked in I took myself off to the pub next door, The Squirrel, for some food. Scampi and chips, in case you’re interested. Having ordered, and whilst looking for somewhere to sit, I spotted a group who looked a lot like fellow cyclists to me, and as we chatted, they kindly asked me to join them. Apparently they were from the Grench cycling club – which is something to do with concatenating two village names, and nothing to do with Dr Seuss. I’m not good with names, but I think they were Mark, Nigel, Neil and Owen. Hi guys! It turned out to be a very amusing and enjoyable evening – which made a nice change from my usual pre-sportive nights. Sometimes doing these things on your own is actually good – you get to meet new people 🙂

I got a reasonably early night, and then predictably slept like something not at all resembling a baby. Why do hotels not have plug sockets next to the bed? My phone is my alarm clock. My phone needs charging overnight. So my phone is now not next to my bed. I must therefore now wake up at least every hour to check the time on my watch (old skool!) just in case something has happened to the phone and I have missed the alarm I’m not sure why this would be improved by the phone being next to the bed, but I just know it would! *grrr*.

Right then. Time to get up. Outside the window was…well, who knows? The sun wasn’t properly up but there was enough light around to reveal that last night’s meteorological fog warnings had come to fruition. It also looked pretty chilly out there. Marvellous. I made some guesses as to which layers of what kit was going to work for this, and with minimal faffing was on my way down the road to HQ at Ludlow Racecourse, all of 10 minutes away. I was there around 7:30am, when registration opened, and I was amongst the first arriving. It was cold, darkish, and still very foggy, which also meant it was damp. Lovely…

On my way to register I was quite impressed to see that each of the bike racks outside came with a track pump attached, which struck me as a really good idea, even if I didn’t need one. Mine was in my boot if I did. I headed inside, and after a brief spell in my queue, was given my map, cable ties, bike number (3713) and helmet timing chip. After nipping in to use the facilities I headed back outside to the car to faff for a bit. It wasn’t exactly inspiring weather for a sportive but I was here, and it was there to be done, so I could only put off the inevitable for so long! It was time to head for the start…

Today’s rider briefing was short and to the point which, as it was freezing standing around, was a good thing. Around 8:00am I, and a small group of other riders, headed off for the day ahead.

Right, once again, like the Bristol Belter, I need to explain the route set up. Think uneven figure of eight, with HQ in the off-centre middle. The right/east loop is sort of 40 miles, the left/west loop is sort of 65. The Short route does the 40. The Standard route does the 65. The Epic route does the Short route and then the Standard route – making up 105 miles. Which pretty much means you have to make a call between Epic and Standard within about 2 miles of setting off. I was here to do the Epic one so I duly turned right when the option arose, whilst almost everyone else didn’t! Too late now…

About 2 miles after that, whilst still freezing and not at all ready for it, came the first hill of the day. A pretty steep one has it happens! I may not have enjoyed it much but actually it proved fairly motivational as it didn’t feel as bad as I’d thought it might, thus leading me to think that today might be going to go ok. Mind you I’ve have been even happier about it if the roads across the top and back down again hadn’t been so sh*tty. And to the four riders who hurtled past me downhill one by one with absolutely no warning, while I was trying to avoid potholes, mud and gravel…? No, I won’t say it, but I did then, albeit probably under my breath. Probably. It didn’t amuse me at all when one of them undercooked the following corner and ended up in the hedge. Much. And before you tut at me for my black heart, he was absolutely fine, not even his ego was dented.

There was another bigger, or make that longer, hill a few miles on, and then after that the route settled into rolling. I’d looked at the profile before and had presumed it only looked relatively flat between hills due to scale. But it really was like that. It was also still foggy, freezing cold, and without views to look at or any sense of anything, it was a bit depressing. Life picked up at one point though, when a gentleman called Ray (I think) pulled alongside me and asked if I was me, which of course I was, and it turned out he reads my blog! How cool is that? Hi there! That definitely cheered me up a bit, and he also rode with me for a while which also helped, even though it would turn out to be the longest conversation I had all day. After a while, and another small up splitting us up, he headed off with my blessing, and I carried on my own without having to keep up 😉

The first food stop came at around 27 miles in and though I wasn’t feeling too bad it was nice to have a brief break. The fog meant that I was proper damp and although it wasn’t windy, the air temperature of the air going past me made for a significant wind chill factor – I was frozen right through! Remind me to not use that base-layer again – bamboo doesn’t seem to wick, and once that layer was cold and damp it just sat there keeping you that way! It was actually warmer being stopped, but I still didn’t hang around for too long. Places to be, many miles ahead, etc.

The route split came another rolling 13 miles later. I had been mulling my route choice over, since I wasn’t having a whole heap of fun out there, but having driven there, paid for a Travelodge, etc…well, that ain’t worth it just to ride 45 miles right? With a quick “you can do this” to myself, I didn’t go left, I carried on in to the foggy grey yonder on the Standard route, with another 65 miles ahead of me. Most of which I spent not just on my own but without another rider in sight – another side effect of the route set-up. The official times show just 96 riders doing the Epic route and judging by the times some of them recorded, some of them definitely didn’t! That means that there weren’t a lot of Epic riders out there and we few were also a long way behind the Standard route riders.

The route carried on rolling through the fog, with the odd actual up and down but nothing too noteworthy. None of it was making me any warmer or drier. I was breaking the time and miles left down into blocks to deal with, mentally & physically. I broke things up further with breaks for food, drink, and occasional photo ops as taking pics with the gloves on was tricky. I was really looking forward to the halfway mark since that’s always a bit of a mental attitude tipping point…and it even came with a church to photograph at precisely the opportune moment. There wasn’t a lot of scenery out there to admire, as I mentioned earlier and even the villages and towns seemed a bit unremarkable to me, so a pretty church was a sight to behold.

Time for another foodstop then, which I think was around the 56 mile mark. The ‘staff’ were lovely and friendly, and there may even have been a bit of banter 🙂 And there were fig rolls! At this point I was feeling ok. Just ok, but ok is ok. Ok and over halfway. The terrain was proving to be doable even if I wasn’t doing it as fast as I felt I ought to be given the lack of big hills. What’s new? And I was bound to warm up sooner or later as the forecast had better things in store for the afternoon, right? Time to go and get the rest of it done then. Off I set, up through the town, up something that I guess was a small hill but really wasn’t anything special. However… Halfway up it my left knee “went”. I can’t describe that really. I wasn’t doing anything different to usual, I was just pedalling, which I’m fairly sure I’ve done before! But something failed/scrunched/popped…and it started hurting. Now I’ve had a niggling knee problem since my L2P in 2009 but that’s sort of background. This wasn’t that. Well ok, it kind of was, in that it was in the same sort of place, but it was most definitely foreground! And for the next 49 miles every left pedal stroke hurt a bit. Nice, no? No! I have to say it did very little for my joie de vivre…

There was nothing to be done about it, I just had to keep going. The only way I was getting back was to get myself back. So I rolled on. I knew it wasn’t going to stay rolling…there was at least one proper big hill between me and HQ, in fact between me and the next food stop, which had me a little worried. In the meantime it brightened up a bit, and the fog cleared, but I still didn’t get as far as needing to remove layers, I just carried on and counted down the miles to that hill… At a couple of points I even saw a couple of other riders! There was also some scenic stuff to admire too; I vaguely recall a nice bit along a tree covered river, which reminded me of similar in the Pyrenees last year. However I figured I must be in Wales when I saw my favourite road markings 🙂 And there was even a level-crossing. Train tracks have been known to be the bane of my life but I made it over these at the recommended 90 degree angle and stayed on the bike…

I was getting increasingly tired and less with it. Being cold, the knee hurting, the relentless rolling, I think it was all just getting to me. And my performance up that very big long hill was abysmal! I mean I made it up, hairpins and all, but there really wasn’t anything in the tank. There was a sign by the road calling it “Ceri” at some point but I’ve no idea if that’s the name of the hill or the nature reserve on it, or what. I just know that it went on and on forever…most unusual for English hills. Which is probably because it was Welsh 😉

Still, just briefly there, on the way up, there was sunshine, and views, and hey, after this hill it was going to be essentially downhill all the way back. It wasn’t that bad, right? These are the things you keep telling yourself to keep you going… A little sign at the top told me I should cheer up, because I could be mowing the lawn. Actually mowing the lawn sounded like a perfectly acceptable alternative to me… 😉 But it did mean the hill was finally behind me, and it was time for the third and final food stop.

There were other riders here, the same faces as I’d seen before at food stops and occasionally on the road. There weren’t many of us though! We chatted briefly, and I wasn’t the only one not feeling it, or not feeling my feet for that matter. But chatting wasn’t going to get me home. I set off on my own again and the last 20 miles were, yes, you guessed it, rolling, although with a downwards trend overall. And those miles were also pretty much purgatory. It clouded over again and got colder. I got tireder, my lower back started hurting, the knee got worse, and even with gels and eating and drinking I was definitely running on empty. I can’t tell you much more about that last section other than it seemed to take a very long time! I’d assumed that defeated, head sunk between shoulder blades drooping, position and the world had shrunk down to just me, the road ahead of me, and my need to get back. Then 105 miles turned out to be 106.4 which isn’t a big deal really, but did mean I spent the last mile or so wondering if I was lost on top of feeling out of it! Luckily, as with all UK Cycling Events, the plentiful signage kept reassuring me I wasn’t. I kept following the arrows, kept pedalling, and finally I was back at the race course and limping under the Finish arch.

Cycling time: 7:13
Distance: 106.4 miles
Avg: 14.7 mph
ODO: 11326.3 miles

There weren’t many people left around, unsurprisingly. The timing team handed me my medal and various goodies – a Power Bar recovery drink, a magazine, Craisins, & pistachios – and I parked up on one of the racks I’d seen so many hours before. There was no sign of the tea/coffee on offer, and the masseur was busy, so I gave up looking, retrieved my bike and headed for the car. It took me a while to figure out how to get into the car however…my brain had so gone elsewhere. I’d gone so far beyond, that I couldn’t think straight. Everything hurt, nothing wanted to move anymore, and I was wiped out! Looking back later, I realised that it was my longest ride this year, and my first century since May, so maybe it’s no surprise that it was hard work? After a while sitting in the boot of my car, I got it back together enough to get changed, load up, and nip into HQ for a quick freshen up before heading off.

Not that I got far! A couple of miles down the road I realised that there was no way I was going to get home in one piece in that state, so I pulled into the next available lay-by, locked the doors drank a can of Red Bull, closed my eyes, and was out like a light. It’s a good thing I set an alarm, otherwise I might have still been there the next morning! As it was, 45 minutes later, I was up, feeling much better, and had a lovely drive home down through the Wye Valley and over the new Severn Crossing which, as you should know by now, I love 🙂

So. I guess it’s a nice enough event. I’m sure on a good day it’s much nicer. It’s well run – let’s face it UK Cycling Events know what they’re doing by now. But 2 average hills, 1 big one, and a lot of rolling means that the only real challenge to it is the distance. The way the route is set up reduces your options on the day and leaves long route riders lonesome. There are also prettier parts of the country, in my opinion anyway. So of all the events they run, for whomever, I’m not sure why you’d do this one, and I don’t think I’d do it again. Having said that I am still perversely pleased that I did what I set out to do. Goal achieved. My knee was not and is not… But I do feel like I earned my little reward on Sunday, not that I ever need an excuse to drink fizz 😀

Severn Bridge Sportive 2015

here I come Bridge

I have a bit of a thing about cycling over the old Severn Crossing. I like it. A lot. And it’s a fair bet that a sportive called the “Severn Bridge Sportive” involves that, right? Bit of a no-brainer really. I also have a tendency to repeat sportives that I’ve enjoyed before. This one I did in 2013. In June. In glorious sunshine. This year’s edition was in August. On the Bank Holiday weekend. So guessing what the weather was going to be like was also a bit of a no-brainer…

Yep, I love waking up in the dark, after a truly disastrous night’s sleep, to the sound of rain on the conservatory roof, and the forecast of much more to come *sigh*. I came this close to rolling over and going back to sleep, but since I was due to be reviewing it my sense of obligation and my conscience kicked me up and out of bed. Man, I have to learn to get rid of those two pesky things! 😉

Which brings us, after a damp and dreary drive, to HQ at Castle Coombe Circuit. I was on the early side and was marshalled to park up at the nearer end of the parking, passing many walking riders heading off to register in the chilly rain. I wasn’t going to do that. I knew better. I knew that it’s further than you think. And I figured the best thing was to sit in the back of my car, faff, get sorted, and kill time so that I could ride to registration, use the facilities, and then not have to loiter around in the rain for too long before start time came. Moisture minimisation. So there I sat, peering out, watching riders walking to and fro’ while it rained, and rained, rained heavier, rained lighter, but always rained. Ah well, at least it was easy to decide on layers. S*d the gilet, it was definitely an armwarmers and waterproof day. Let’s face it, with the autumnal temperatures, boil-in-bag wasn’t likely to be an issue. Hey, on the upside, at least it wasn’t windy for a change!

Time passed, and finally it was time. I clambered out the back of the car, clambered on to the bike, and rode off to register. Luckily registration was indoors. Riders were sheltering wherever dry was, and there may even have been an element of huddling together for warmth! I signed in, got my number (322), ties, and helmet timing chip, and went back into the ‘orrible outdoors to fix them where they needed to be. Whilst waiting outside I bumped into Herbie and his Mrs, and we chatted for a while, friendly faces always being a good thing, before taking our places in the start line. I think we were in the second group away, but a bit far back in it so I couldn’t really hear the briefing – maybe a mic would have been useful – but I caught the odd salient point and saw the signs I would be following, before we were on our way.

The route starts with half a lap of the race circuit which, though smooth and flat and therefore probably lovely normally, seems to have decided drainage is not necessary and that standing water is a good thing. Water was coming down, coming up…and my ar*e was soaked even before we left the circuit. Ick! I’d meant to cycle with Herbie for a while but all that cold and wet going on meant I needed to get going on and warm up a bit so I left them behind and headed off. As we exited the circuit onto a muddy country lane, one poor sod was already fixing a puncture. I’m fairly sure that today, if that had happened to me, I’d just have walked back around the circuit, loaded the car up, and gone home!

Off we go then. There’s a distinct lack of photos today, mostly due to the weather. But also to the fact that we’ve all seen damp English country lanes before! What scenery there was en-route to the bridge would probably have looked lovely on a different day but today it just all seemed a little grey and dismal and uneventful. It’s amazing what a difference weather makes to a place, and when you’re busy looking down and watching where you’re riding, you’re not really looking at the view anyway.

So… It was a ride of four hours. One very wet one, one wet one, one mostly dry one, one wet one. Or maybe it was a ride of three parts. One ride out. One bridge aller et retour. One ride back.

Because today I did the short route. I like Welsh hills. I liked the long route when I did it before. But today 40 miles of wet Welsh hills just didn’t appeal. I can do them any time and, in fact, have already done that several times this year. So I rode a fairly flat 33 miles just to ride over the bridge, grab some yummy apple pie, ride back over the bridge, and ride 33 miles back again. Which made this a fairly easy, vaguely miserable, slightly boring ride. I know, I’m weird, how can riding a bike be boring? But without lots of up there isn’t lots of down. It’s just fairly constant pushing, slowed down by puddles, potholes, and mud! Maybe I should have done the extra forty mile hilly loop after all?!

But, and there’s a big but, it was totally worth it. Why? Because thanks to coinciding with the Severn Bridge Half Marathon and presumably some hefty behind the scenes negotiating, the old Severn Bridge was closed. Totally closed. As in the only traffic to be crossing it between 7:00am and 13:00pm was us. Cyclists. How cool is that?! Very, since you asked. How many people can say they’ve done that? Well, around 300 or so probably, depending how many no-shows there were, but still, bet you haven’t! It totally made my day :D.

You can’t blame an event for the weather though. This was not a bad event by any means, it just suffered from bad weather. There were a lot of positives. Good signage, all bar the odd bit when I’d been on my own for a while and was convinced I was lost and could have used a reminder. The marshals and staff were friendly and helpful. The food stop (used twice on the long route) was great, well supplied with hot drinks, savoury and sweet food (I mentioned the apple pie, right?), water and energy drink, and being in a community centre, it also had toilets.

Mind you, the short route – being essentially out there and back again – involved a little too much repeating for my liking, and the section around what I think was Yate on the way back in the rain involved far too many roundabouts, traffic, and traffic lights to slow me down when I was in push for home mode. And I did push. After a drier hour around the bridge, on the way back the rain came back. I’d had enough, and I wasn’t taking any prisoners – I was over-taking them all! Well, it was pretty flat 😉 Which would make it a great route for people who don’t like hills, who aren’t race snakes, who fancy a nice day out in the countryside, or for novices. The 100 mile route has more to challenge and more to see, and those hills in the middle would break up the flat out and back nicely. Maybe next year? 🙂

After 66 miles I was back on the soaking circuit again and sort of sprinting for the Finish arch, where I was soon collecting my goody bag, and then declining the free pasta. That done, I had a chat to Andy Cook who runs the event and who seemed remarkably sanguine given the weather that had happened to his event and no doubt cast somewhat of a pall over the Family Cycling Day element of the day. Still, it’s the English weather, what can you do? There were still various undeterred small people cycling around the track with their parents and clearly having fun doing so 🙂 Chatting done, and since I was soaked through and getting cold, it was time to head back to the car, reverse the faffing process, and go home. Back home, down the rainy motorway, with the heating on! Bye bye summer… 🙁

Cycling time: 4:11
Distance: 66.5 miles
Avg: 15.9 mph
ODO: 10857.9 miles

By the way the day did have another highlight. On the way back, as I closed in on another rider, and passed a farm on the left hand side, there frolicking on the drive, were two very cute small kittens. One of which ran off, while the other sat and watched, all black and white and wide-eyed as I passed. Aw, how adorable. It definitely made me smile. In fact, as I informed the somewhat bemused rider I was now passing, I think all sportives should include kittens 😉 *grin*.

Great Weston Ride 2015

I could tell you about the ride I did with Alan on Wednesday that didn’t go according to plan because rain stopped play. I could also tell you about the solitary seaside loop I did yesterday. But you don’t want to know about those. You want to know about the Great Weston Ride that I did last Sunday, right? Which is by way of being a rhetorical question, because I’m going to tell you about it regardless of your response. Every English woman must do her duty 😉

Right then. Welcome to the Great Weston Ride. My sixth I believe. And since it was also its sixth, that means I’ve done ’em all. It is by way of being a tradition, which has several elements to it, though not all of them were present this time around.

First of all, for starters, we, whoever we are, ride from our various homes to the start. This is usually Guy, sometimes Clayton, and always me. Sadly Guy was unable to join us this year, having worn himself out on yet another long audax the day before. When shall we three meet again? Next year maybe? So then there were two. Clayton and I met a little before 7:00am at Shute Shelve, as ever, and headed off, minus our usual guiding light…which probably explains why, in the absence of his commuting expertise, we managed to get somewhat lost and turn an 18 mile route into a 22 mile route. But hey, the roads were quiet, it was dry and mild, and we still got to where we had to be in time, mainly because that little before 7:00am had given us a little leeway!

And where did we have to be? Why Long Ashton Park & Ride of course. For the second element, the main course, the main event, the GWR itself. I think in previous years we’ve aimed to get there earlier, this time around it was already busy, full of riders and families and cars and bikes. Alan was due to meet us there, but as there was as yet no sign of him, we headed off to sign in. On my way I bumped into Andy and his mates James and Lee, who’d also done the Ride Like A Pro the day before, which was nice – always good to see a friendly face or three! The alphabetised queues for registration were clearly marked, but for some reason mine seemed to be the longest, and queuing took quite a while. Clayton had it much easier! As I stood there on my own, slowly shuffling forwards, one of the guys popped over to say that if I was riding on my own I was more than welcome to join them, though I seriously doubt I’d have been able to keep up with ’em. Luckily, thanks to the company I was already keeping, I didn’t need to find that out for sure! It was a very nice gesture though – thanks guys 🙂

Finally it was my turn at the front, and I was given my number, two (rather short) cable ties, and a card with contact details, told to help myself to free 9Bars, and sent on my way. I found my way back to Clayton, fiddled the number on to the bike, and joined the queue for the Ladies – which just goes to show that there were quite a lot of women riders for a change 🙂 By the time I emerged again we still hadn’t located Alan, who was failing to answer his ‘phone, but luckily I spotted him loitering with intent, and hailed him over. Voice like a parade ground sergeant me 😉 Right then, back to being three, if not the same three as usual, right?

Let’s make a little detour here. Although the GWR is, as we have established, a tradition, this year’s route could be different. I say could be, not would be, because although the usual 56 mile route remained, the organisers (hi Darren!) had added three optional little detours to it to add both miles and hills. I’d like to say I was dying to try them out, chomping at the bit, etc…but you know what? I’m essentially lazy *grin*. However if I wasn’t local and didn’t know all the extra bits already I probably would have done. Or not 😉 My real excuse du jour? Tradition is tradition, tradition is not to be messed with, and the traditional route is 56 miles 🙂

Right then. Route decided upon. Time to join the groups lining up for the start. The two motorcycle medics were watching on as Darren gave us our rider briefing, showed us the signage, and told us to be careful going down the hill after Priddy. After six years he can probably recite it in his sleep 😉 So, forewarned and forearmed, off we went. I know better than to hurtle off though, you always get instantly stopped by the traffic lights at the entrance and then another set after that before you get to head off through Long Ashton – and this year was no exception 🙂

Wasn’t I here yesterday? Ah yes, so I was. Déja vù! This time we may have been going a little slower though – it’s not a race, right? The road through Long Ashton rolls a bit, has lots of parked cars, and a seriously dubious road surface. However the section afterwards is lovely fast and flat, so we got to overtake a fair few, which is always fun. Which is also something that happened on and off all day. This is more of a charity ride than a sportive, there’s no timing, and there’s a whole range of riders out there to enjoy the day out, not just the usual race snakes and testosterone fuelled pelotons. Which apart from meaning I can overtake folk also means it’s got a really nice friendly atmosphere. People chat en passant, families wait by the side of the road to cheer on their rider(s); it’s all quite refreshing 🙂

Where to go from here? Through Barrow Gurney where we stopped briefly to stash layers and lost Clayton who was ahead and didn’t realise we were no longer behind him, and out t’other side. Then up to the traffic lights and then up, literally, the A38, briefly. Not briefly enough really as it’s a fast road, and the traffic using it desperately has to be somewhere else and has to go past you at speed to get there. OK, so we weren’t on it for long at all, distance wise, but the drag up made it take longer than it would have done otherwise, overtaking slower riders was tricky, and it was nice to turn left off it and head east through Winford. Admittedly this was also nice because I knew the next section, all bar a couple of little ups, was downhill and fun, and it was and it was 🙂

I appear to have forgotten to mention that despite the relative warmth and sunshine, it was still really windy out there. When isn’t it these days? And of course it was a headwind. *sigh*. This became even more apparently heading south across the valley and past Chew Valley Lake. Pretty yes, but pretty hard work! Somewhere around here we passed Clayton waiting by a gate, and stopped to pick him up – he’d thought he was following Alan the entire time, even though his ‘Alan’ had different kit and a different bike! 😉

Time to head for the big climb of the day. I’m not a fan of the stretch of the road going from Compton Martin to Blagdon. It’s more up than down, with a couple of nasty draggy ups, and that slow sort of big grain porridgy road surface. Having said that, I’ve definitely struggled more with it on other rides than I did today. Although we split up from time to time, going up inevitably, we re-grouped on the downs and flats, i.e. the bits I can do! 😉 Those weren’t the ups of the day though. Nah. Today’s big climb was Burrington Combe, not to be tackled however until we’d stopped at the water stop at the bottom and had a bit of a regroup and refresh first. I wasn’t in any rush to get up it, and when it came to it, I didn’t rush getting up it either – unlike Alan and Clayton who left me in their wakes so as to wait for me at the top. I still got to overtake some though, and I quite enjoyed pottering up there again. I might have been faster without the wind all day, and without the day before’s miles in my legs, but I was feeling ok, and that was fine by me 🙂

Big climb done. Time to play with the wind across the top of the Mendips, and have a bit of fun doing some speed. I like it up there, even today when it got a bit cloudy and drizzled briefly 🙂 I also like the descent to Westbury sub Mendip. Well, I usually do. I like it less when surrounded by lots of other riders who don’t know it as well as I do. It’s fairly steep, narrow in places, wiggly…and there’s often traffic of the motor vehicle variety going both up and down. Which it’s another good reason, if one were needed, why it was good that the earlier drizzle was only brief and didn’t turn into rain – it’s proper ‘oribble in the wet! I’ve been known to kick ass going down here on a good day, but not today. Today I actually practiced some restraint. Which is just as well as near the bottom on a narrow wiggly section, at speed, we had to squeak past a Land Rover coming the other way. There’s no way we’d have been able to stop…just as well we didn’t have to!

After a bit more restrained fun we reached the junction at the bottom where the marshal duly assisted us all across the main road when it was safe to do so. A bit more down brought us to Rodney Stoke where, later in the day, various fête type things were due to be happening and we’d been asked to roll through it in neutralised zone fashion. We were there well in advance of those but we still did as we were told, before heading across the flat back country lanes to Cocklake. We do what we’re told you know. We even stopped for traffic lights ‘n everything 😉

We were fairly motivated by now, because the infamous food stop is at Wedmore, just a couple of miles down the road. And it was just as good as ever. Free coffee/tea/squash, and with a large range of cakes on offer, as well as bacon rolls. Not free but not expensive either, and although I don’t do eating, Alan and Clayton do. A large slice of sticky chocolate cake and a generous bacon roll respectively, both of which were apparently lovely 🙂 The only fly in the ointment was the wasp that wouldn’t leave my squash alone! So I dumped both and headed to the school toilets, which always make me giggle because they’re ickle for ickle people *grin*.

We couldn’t stand around eating all day though. Time to get going, with 18 miles or so to go and no big hills. As we headed down the ‘mother-in-law’ road from Wedmore to Highbridge (so-called because it goes on and on…) the sun came properly back out again too. Well the sun should always shine at the seaside right? Which, with Highbridge, Burnham-on-Sea, and Weston-super-Mare ahead of us, is where the rest of the ride was. Burnham wasn’t as busy as usual which was a blessing. As we passed what passes for the pier, a large group of ladies and daughters applauded me. Yes, just me, I was a way back from the boys at this point trying to take photos. I think it was a female solidarity thing – and very smile inducing it was too 🙂 By now the wind, which had been more southerly than westerly, could have been expected to be behind us and helpful and blissful and….nah, don’t be daft…it had veered around to be properly westerly and no use to man nor beast! T’was ever the way…*grin*.

We stuck together for the last flat section, took turns at the front, and dragged our average speed up a bit while enjoying the sunshine. Past the 10 miles to go sign, the 5 miles to go…up the A38, through Uphill, and then we were on the final stretch down the main seafront to the Finish on the lawns there. There was a lovely reception awaiting us as we crossed the line, complete with applause and cowbells, and smiley faced girls handing out medals and food tokens. Told you it was friendly, right? Once again the Great Weston Ride was done 🙂

Cycling time: 3:42
Distance: 55.9 miles
Avg: 15.1 mph
ODO: 10493.3 miles

Time for some R’n’R then. Those food tokens entitled you to a free burger/sausage/falafel wrap from The Cowshed. But who eats first? Priorities…! Clayton disappeared like a shot towards the beer tent as I had a brief chat to Darren, and I joined him just in time to be presented with a pint of cold lager – bliss 🙂 Alan went off in search of their food, and I made some small boy’s day by giving him my token and thus a free burger. Positive karma has to be a good thing 🙂 We all sat on the lawn in the sun, played the debrief game, and drank that positively lovely lager, surrounded by lots of others doing the same. The boys had a couple of pints or three, I stuck to just 1 and 1/2 before we headed off for the ride home, even given considerable peer pressure!…

…which I possibly paid for. This was the final element, dessert presumably, aka riding back home again. Damn that tradition stuff! OK, so it was only 10 miles back for me, and actually this probably had more to do with two days’ riding in a row and not having eaten enough, but I felt properly and increasingly weird on the way back. I’m very glad it wasn’t any further! I was very pleased to get home, get off the bike, and spend some serious sofa time so as to get it together enough to have a shower. I know, girly lightweight 😉 Still, two lovely days out on the bike…there are definitely worse ways to spend a weekend 🙂

Ride Like A Pro 2015

After a quick evening spin on Thursday, and a rest day on Friday, my cycling weekend had arrived. I did the Jaguar Ride Like A Pro last year, and I have to admit I hadn’t seriously been considering doing it again, but when they got in touch and asked if I’d like to do it again? Well, I’m a sucker for an invitation. To be honest, I did mentally debate it for a while, what with the Great Weston Ride the following day, but this year’s Ride Like A Pro was only due to be 48 miles, and I’ve ridden two days in a row before, and did I mention they invited me? Yeah, done deal 🙂 I signed on the dotted line, aka the on-line registration form, and the die was cast.

Of course the fact that I didn’t have to be in Bristol until 10:00am was definitely in its favour. So all I had to do this Saturday was get up at a reasonable hour, sling on summer kit because the weather was nice, throw (well, not literally) the bike in the back of the car and head North. Result 🙂

Which brought me to Hartwell Bristol Jaguar, somewhat nervous, but under sunny skies, all according to plan on Saturday. Why nervous? Well although I did enjoy it last year, keeping up with the race snakes was hard work and, not helped by a gear cable failure, I ended up limping home with just James for company. Would it be the same again? As I parked up and started to sort stuff, the sheer amount of high quality gear being unloaded and paraded around didn’t make me feel any more confident. However I had been told they were hoping to have three ability groups – fast, medium, slow – and rather than be daft enough to opt for the fast group this year, I had every intention of being slow and not pushing it, especially with Sunday in mind. I was doing my best to keep the nerves at bay.

I went inside the showroom – I mentioned it was a Jaguar ride right? – and admired the cars in passing on my way to use the facilities. I then chatted to Jack who’d invited me, and familiar face Ride Leader Pete who led us/me last year, while signing the relevant paperwork. Time to get properly ready then and hope it would all go according to plan. Whilst faffing I got chatting to another rider about the route and the day and where we’d come from and the like. A little while later, whilst waiting for the rider briefing, he popped up again and said…if I was from Axbridge, and cycling…was I in fact the Cycling Mayor? Well…yes…as it happens…I was. Am. Whatever 😉 Aw shucks, someone who reads this. How cool is that? 🙂

Time for the ‘tick every health & safety box’ rider briefing then. Which Jack did very well, to be fair. My heart sank somewhat when it became apparent that the plan was for us all to be one group for the whole ride. Oh dear… Resolved though I was to do my best I had visions of me just fading slowly into the background…and I found myself thanking my lucky stars that I’d downloaded the GPS route, even if my Garmin isn’t all that good at those. At least I would be able to get around on my own without getting lost!

So, after some obligatory photos with the Team Sky Jag, it was time to head off. It took us quite a while to get out of Bristol, what with traffic lights, traffic, and the like. And being one big group, which tended to get a little bit strung out as a result, I think it’s fair to say we didn’t make some of the rather impatient motorists like us any more than they had done before! On the upside this meant we were all pootling along at a more than tolerable speed. I wasn’t deluded enough to think that this would last but it was nice to have some time and space to warm up in.

Which took care of the first five miles or so I think. And took us out by the Long Ashton Park & Ride and out towards Nailsea which, on Sunday, would cause a certain amount of déja vù. Now that we were out of the big bad city, the group speed started to go up, as expected. I decided the best thing to do was to try and stay near the front so I had a way to drop back if necessary. However the roads through Wraxall and beyond were more rolling than anything else and dropping on the ups didn’t seem to be a problem. I even had chatting company for a while which was nice. It was definitely going better than the same time last year when I definitely remember struggling more. Actually I think this year’s group were overall a little slower…even if they’d hate to hear me say it…but you won’t hear me complaining!

It was nice out there though. Pretty. Sunshine, colourful lycra, Somerset countryside, what’s not to love? Mind you, I knew it wasn’t going to stay flat and easy all the way around. As we passed through the land of my father, through a surprisingly quiet Yatton, and on to Congresbury I knew that the first up of the day was ahead, and there was no way I’d be maintaining my place in the pack for that!

Right then, time for the up from Churchill to Shipham. And actually I got overtaken by far fewer riders than I was expecting. Which just goes to show that overall we were slower than last year 😉 It’s not the worst climb in the world, pretty gradual, with a steep kick out of Shipham, and then a lovely down which means you can then get quite a long way up the next kick to get to the top before the descent…

Which is where we met the Wiggle Mendips Sportive riders, who were coming down from Charterhouse to merge with us at the bottom by the Lillypool Cafe before going up to go down Shipham Hill. Of course having far more momentum on my side than them, I shot past them many of them who, not realising I wasn’t on their ride, were a tad bemused about me cruising up the hill past them like that. Very funny 🙂 After inevitably slowing down a bit for the last bit of the final up my favourite descent awaited me, complete with rabbits to chase and overtake. And I had a blast going down – much much fun. Especially as this year my gear cable didn’t snap on the way down! *grin* Since we were heading for our café stop at Edelweiss at the bottom of Cheddar Gorge I didn’t even have to slow down at the junction where I normally turn right, and knowing those roads well, I had lots more fun hurtling past lots of less cognisant riders to get to where everyone was gathering. As I neared the bottom of the Gorge, a Wiggle rider pulled up next to me to give me kudos on my descent. Apparently he’d been pedal to the metal trying to catch me all the way down and hadn’t manage to narrow the distance between us at all. Tee hee hee :D.

Time for coffee. Well it would have been, and was for many, but actually I fancied fizzy orange. And I definitely couldn’t face the cakes, bacon rolls, etc that others were eating. Not before Cheddar Gorge! The café staff were a tad overwhelmed by us all, so service got a bit chaotic. And £2 for a small bottle of fizzy Fanta seemed a tad much but hey, it went down at the same speed I’d just gone down 😉 There were also drinks and bars and things in the back of the support car too, as well as the opportunity to have your photo taken with it – all of which I let pass me by. I was just wondering when would be a good time to head off before everyone else so that they could catch me up later! After some time spent chatting to others in the sunshine I decided the time had come. It turned out that several others had already headed off, so I told the Ride Leaders I’d be doing the same, and one of the others joined me too.

Hello Cheddar Gorge. Again 😉 I’d like to thank the Wiggle Mendips Sportive for all their riders who were doing the same as it meant that, unusually, I actually overtook lots of people on the way up! Go me! Somewhat amusingly somewhere in the wiggly bits, on the side of the road, was Phil of SportivePhoto fame… I said hi, pointed out that I wasn’t one of his so he didn’t need to immortalise me, but he did anyway – and having seen the result on Twitter later, I think I need to buy that off him! He did make me laugh though 🙂 And I even overtook some of “our” riders as we neared the top – the shallow the gradient the faster I go, and it’s not like I don’t know the climb, right? Shame Strava doesn’t think I went up there at all…

Near the top I caught up with the rider I’d left the bottom with, and also picked up one I’d overtaken, and so as three Pro musketeers we headed off over the Mendips without waiting for the rest of the group to catch us. I had my reservations about this, mainly because I didn’t want to get lost, but we figured that between us and our various gadgets, we could probably find our way back. Which we did, with the odd little wiggle where we weren’t quite sure about things. I was a bit cautious about the West Harptree descent, not wanting another puncture. Chew Valley Lake was as pretty as ever, and the country lanes afterwards just sort of rolled by. Having done the ride before definitely helped, as sometimes I could remember the way, and also because it was all vaguely familiar, so it didn’t feel as long or as hard as last year, even including the couple of ups after Chew Magna. Luckily the guys waited for me to catch up after each one! The fast group caught us up on an up towards the end, but nowhere as soon as I’d expected, and then left us in their dust to head back into Bristol, followed by one of us. My remaining companion Andy, as he turned out to be, stuck with me however, which I was most grateful for; it is nice to ride in chatty company. He even waited when we got separated by traffic lights on the way back into Bristol on the basis that we’d done the last 20 miles together, we should do the last 200 yards that way too! And then there we were, back admiring posh cars, and picking up our goody bags. I’m pretty sure we were far from the last in too 🙂

I think there around 40 or so other riders on the ride, but I’m pleased to announce that I was the fastest woman today. I was also the slowest woman. Yes, I was the token woman! 😉 Not that I really noticed. I was Riding Like a Pro which, as I’ve said before, in my situation would make me Lance Armstrong, so I was just another bloke out there 😉 I really enjoyed the ride, even more so than last year. To be fair, the Ride Like A Pro supported ride bit only really worked for the first half of the ride, but at least after that, however splintered we all were, there was still a support car somewhere behind us. However the route is nice, the weather was good, there was a really friendly atmosphere all round, and I definitely feel like I held my own. A good ride for sure. Maybe they’ll invite me back next year? 🙂

Cycling time: 3:03
Distance: 48.5 miles
Avg: 15.9 mph
ODO: 10363.5 miles

Bike Bath 2015

I was asked to review Bike Bath last year but for some reason that I now forget, I couldn’t. So this year I decided I would put it on the calendar and make sure I did it. It seemed like I should.

Which is why, on Sunday morning, I was driving down half the course I would ride later, to get to Bath. It being around an hour away, it wasn’t the earliest of starts, which is always good, and the sun was shining which is always better. HQ is at Bath Recreation Ground in the centre of the city (I think it’s a city right?), but in order to promote cycling and reduce congestion, we were advised to park at the free Park and Ride facility on Newbridge Road. Not that I knew where that was, but I presumed my satnav would get me there which indeed it did. Unsurprisingly I was parked up next to a fair few doing exactly the same thing.

The forecast was for mild and not too windy, so there wasn’t too much faffing to do on the kit front, other than donning some arm warmers because it was still a tad chilly. I was pleased to discover the car park was free, though the bus into town if you use it is not. The toilets however, were not free, but I was pleased to discover I did actually have a 20p piece. In fact I think you could say I was relieved 😉

Time to see if I could find my way into town. Sorry, city 😉 I’d looked at the map supplied beforehand, and did so again, before heading off. I was hoping to follow someone in but all the cyclists who had been around had suddenly vanished! Luckily I do know Bath a bit and although I completely failed to take the right route in, I just followed the A4 until I knew where I was, found a sign pointing, presumably, to where I needed to be, and with no trouble at all other than a little traffic dodging, I was at HQ.

There was an event village set up, toilet blocks, tents, stands, all the usual, with the addition of the fabulous Claud the Butler. I decided to go and register before I indulged my high quality coffee addiction. Which luckily didn’t take long. A nice smiley lady told me where to sign, gave me my number and bike tags, and stuck a timing tag on the LHS of my helmet. Time for my short black Americano, a trip to the toilet block, and a quick break on the steps to watch everything happening.

Things were all fairly informal, so I just kinda got myself together, grabbed the bike off the rack where I’d stashed it earlier, and joined the latest group gathering by the start arch. The group ahead of us was just leaving so almost straight away we shuffled forwards for our rider briefing, that came with more of a sense of humour than usual, which was nice. And then a little after 8:00am I was on my way.

Sometimes local rides fill me with dread. Really, these roads, again? And sometimes I look forward to them because I know what I’m in for and I know I can do it. Today was one of the latter. Not that I’d ridden all of it before but still, a case of familiarity not breeding contempt 😉

In fact the first hour or so provided the greatest novelty. Cycling through Bath in vaguely cyclocross fashion through pedestrianised streets, the wrong way up roads, down cycle lanes, along cycle paths by the river, along a lot of cycle path in fact, including most novel of all – the Two Tunnels. Which was kinda scary! Two sections of the Somerset & Dorset railway have been turned into shared-use path, although at this time of morning there was only the odd walker/jogger to share them with. The tunnels are both downlit at regular intervals in oddly catacomb style so you can actually see where you’re going, but the darkness around you and the sunglasses balanced down your nose do lead to a slightly unstable feeling. The first section wasn’t that long, but the second section seemed to go on forever and I was quite glad to emerge blinking into the sunlight, in front of the obligatory photographer to capture the moment. As I thought, sunglasses on the end of your nose is not a good look 😉

There was a brief hiatus shortly afterwards where the signage said both straight on and left up and backwards. Logic dictated that anything other than straight on would just take you back, so presumably that was meant for one of the shorter routes. Straight on then, to infinity and beyond! Well to Somerset anyway. Time to go uphill then, and there were a few ups to climb out of Bath. Nothing too drastic though, just the gradual scenic variety really, followed by lots of country lane riding. I’m sure I should have been taking photos but I was busy warming up and looking around, and generally getting on with it! Oh, and we have great village names around here – Norton St Phillip, Buckland Dinham, and Great Elm to name a few.

We were getting into familiar territory now, especially when we got to Mells. Shortly afterwards came the first foodstop at Chilcompton. The food was plentiful, with sandwiches, pies, bananas, and more, and Cawston Press fizzy juice drinks but it was a bit chaotic as there were no bike stands, so trusted steeds were just strewn all over the gravel car park, mine included. I nipped inside the hall for a quick comfort break, took off the arm warmers, grabbed the usual half a banana and headed off again.

I think this route might become my favourite way to climb the Mendips, though sadly I live in completely the wrong place for it to be useful. Yes it’s essentially up, it goes on for quite a while, and some bits are steeper than others, but it just doesn’t really feel as bad as it should. And it’s pretty! Plus all that up brings you to the top of the Mendips, and across to Priddy, from where you get to go down again. Whoopee! Oddly I’ve been up Deerleap loads of times, but never down it. And I’m not sure I’d repeat the experience. Not with a classic car rally coming up it at the same time for sure! Given a guaranteed lack of traffic I think it’d be a lot of fun though, and it still wasn’t horrible, but it being narrow, steep and/or wiggly in places, it definitely called for a degree of respect. Mind you, once that bit was done, the flying section onwards through Wookey Hole and to the outskirts of Wells was much fun 🙂

Time to head to Wedmore, down a road I use at least once a week, but which somehow seemed more fun today. Well it was still sunny, and I knew it was pretty flat! In fact there was around 12 miles of flat, pretty Somerset roads, attractive villages and the like. I reminded myself that just because they’re a bit like wallpaper to me these days, people do actually come here on holiday, and it’s actually very lovely! I have to say though that having done a lot of sportives in the South West lately, Somerset really does some have the worst roads around – I found myself feeling a bit embarrassed for my county!

Anyway. Enough with the reflective and flat and scenic, time to go up the iconic! Yep, Cheddar Gorge loomed ahead of us. Believe me, it’s much nicer in the sunshine, and that we were still blessed with. My Garmin refuses to believe I went up it in the prescribed fashion so I have no idea whether it went well or not, but it felt like it did. It does help the PMA when you overtake people on the way up! For those of you who don’t know the Gorge, here it is in pictures. No Horseshoe Bend though – that involves concentration and hands on the handlebars! 🙂

It was starting to get a little less pleasant by the time I reached the top – clouding over and with some wind. Mind you, that’s often the case on the top of the Mendips, I should be used to it by now, and the cloud was still fairly patchy. Having made it up once more I knew I was going to get one of my favourite downs shortly – down West Harptree Hill. Which I was duly enjoying until I hit a bl**dy great pothole halfway down… No, I didn’t fall off, but it rapidly became clear that somewhere there ought to be air there wasn’t. I was, in so far as I could be, grateful to discover that it was at least only one tyre afflicted, and that it was the front tyre at that. So I took myself off to the side of the road and set about getting it sorted. Something I can do, I’m just not very fast at it. Still, I was sat on dry grass, sheltered, in a patch of sunshine, so hey, needs must. I was pleasantly surprised when most of the riders going past me checked to see if I was ok too – which is a good place to mention that this is one of the friendliest rides I’ve been on lately. Lots of etiquette, and lots of friendly chatting in passing too – makes a nice change!

As I sat there the silver mechanic support van came up past me, which may have been co-incidence, or maybe someone arrived at the foodstop a little further on and told them about me, who knows? They turned around a little way up, came back down, and pulled up next to me to check that I was ok and had everything I needed, which I was and I did, so I didn’t need their assistance. However having had a brief chat it was good to know that they were going to head back to the foodstop and that there would be a track pump waiting for me when I got there. My little pump is pretty darn good, but getting properly back up to pressure would be good, and save me bouncing around for the rest of the ride.

Job done, I headed down the rest of the hill a little more carefully, and then flew along to West Harptree proper where the foodstop was. And yes, there was a track pump, in fact an entire tool kit, complete with a hipster mechanic to pump my tyre up for me. Result! The food stop had a little less food, not that I needed any, but the Cawston Press fizzy rhubarb was fab! I also topped up my bottle with water and was rather thrilled to discover they also had Nuun tablets – my usual poison – so I wouldn’t even have to use the ones I’d brought with me – bonus!

Right then. With around 60 miles done, I only had 20 miles ahead. By the way it’s amazing how much easier 80 miles is to deal with mentally than 100. Weird, no? Of course it definitely helped that the weather was nice, the hills weren’t bad, and my legs just seemed to have it in them today. And the rest of my body too. I was having another good day at the office 🙂

The final 20 miles took us past the very pretty Chew Valley Lake, and then back to Bath along country lanes, without too much up or down. Sadly the weather deteriorated. Black clouds were gathering all around, and I was really hoping that, doing a fair speed, I might get back in before they got to me in a big way. Which I sort of did. It did rain for the last hour or so, but since it was still fairly mild, and it wasn’t too heavy, it was tolerable. It did stop me taking photos though, which was a shame. After quite a while of not knowing where I was, we popped out at Saltford, and suddenly I knew, and we were turning right onto the Bristol-Bath Railway Path to head, damply, back into Bath. At least the rain meant, once more, we weren’t sharing it with many other users. The damp and straight and flat did get a little tedious, well, mostly the damp to be fair, but it didn’t really take that long to get back into Bath, get confused once again by road signs, albeit in a different place, manage not to fall into the river cycling alongside it, and to negotiate Bath’s now busier streets to get back to HQ again.

Rolling under the Finish arch we were all welcomed in over the tannoy by name and with time, as various staff/volunteers presented us with our medals and sent us off over to the event village again. The rain managed to clear up for a bit as I parked the bike and then wandered around a bit trying to figure out what to do. There was free hot food available, but I wasn’t really in the mood. There was a Bath Ales bar doing a roaring trade, but I was driving. So I grabbed a bottle of water, sat by my bike, and checked my phone instead. And then the rain started again.

Right then, enough already. Time to head back to the car. Which turned out to be 3 miles of the wettest riding I’ve ever done. Everytime you wondered if it could get any worse, and if you could get any wetter, the heavens would inform you that yes it could, and yes you could! I got to the car, opened the boot, and climbed straight in!

And it didn’t stop. I changed into dry clothes. And waited. And it didn’t stop. Eventually I managed to get the bike into the car without getting out, and the nice rider who’d just arrived at his car next to me shut my boot for me, so I could clamber over into the driver seat and head home without getting soaking wet again! I gather it brightened up later and the whole event ended in glorious sunshine…*sulk* 😉

Still, I had a really good ride. Well, apart from the drenching 😉 I enjoyed the route. I had it going on, in so far as I ever do. It was well organised, low key and most and best of all, it was very friendly. It was definitely a nice day out on the bike 🙂

Cycling time: 5:10
Distance: 78.8 miles
Avg: 15.3mph
ODO: 10197.9 miles

Clif Bar nutrition

A little while ago I was lucky enough to be sent some Clif nutrition goodies to try out. Having met Mr Clif bar on my training camp, where he’d become familiar with my tedious nutritional requirements, he reckoned they’d do me nicely. Clif Bar’s philosophy means that they use wholesome ingredients in all their products, and that all their food is free of hydrogenated oils and high fructose corn syrup. Since not eating enough on sportives is something I have been known to do, trying out new stuff that might work seemed like a good idea. So I spent April and May doing my sportives powered, mostly, by Clif. With the odd flapjack and banana thrown in of course 😉

So, let’s break this down into the four different products. In, as it happens, my order of preference.

Clif Builders
These come in three flavours – Chocolate, Chocolate Mint, Chocolate Peanut Butter. Each bar has 20g of protein and is supposed to be eaten post-workout. I had the Chocolate Peanut Butter ones, and I have to say I wasn’t mad keen on them – but then eating post ride is something I’m notoriously bad at, and after a sportive all I generally want to eat is something savoury – enough with the sweet already! As a result I don’t have much to compare them to. They’re a good size, quite dense, chewy, and fairly chocolately, if that helps? Having said that, coming home from one long sportive driving down a long motorway, realising I was running on empty, one of these did get me back up and going and safely home again!

Clif Bars
I tried the White Chocolate Macadamia and Oatmeal Raisin Walnut flavours (also come in Chocolate Chip, Blueberry Crisp, Crunchy Peanut Butter and Chocolate Almond Fudge). These bars are made with organic rolled oats, and are not unlike the flapjacks I usually eat on that basis – and are ok for me as I’m ok with oat gluten. Unlike my flapjacks however they have a whole heap of other ingredients which elevate them above those. Apparently this mix of whole grains, protein and fibre, means each bar contains B6 and B12 which contributes to the normal release of energy for use in the body. That’s all a bit techy for me… However they do taste good! Not too sweet. Not dry. Easy to chew. They’re a good size for my back pocket and also my top tube bag (some bars are too long and thin), plus they don’t crumble all over the place either! I certainly didn’t “bonk” on the rides I used them, and I’d definitely buy more, and not just to try the other flavours 😉

Clif Shot Gels
Thanks to the training camp and my samples, I think I’ve tried every flavour these come in – Double Espresso (100mg caffeine), Citrus (25mg caffeine), Razz, and Chocolate. Unlike my usual gels these are shorter and squarer and they come with a special designed “Litter Leash™ Packaging” that means you can tear the top, drink/eat the gel, and the top stays attached to the packet to be tucked back inside, before the whole thing goes into your back pocket to be disposed of later. Very clever – and that bit less litter on the road is a good thing! When it came to actually using them, they always come as a bit of a surprise. There are I am expecting a sort of runny jam, and these are more like a thick custard. I’d describe it better if I could – but I can’t! Initially I found the Espresso flavour a bit bitter but I’m used to it now and I especially like the Citrus one. Clearly I’m a bit of a sucker for caffeine in gels… 😉 The gels, whichever flavour, definitely do the trick. Having left it a little too late on one particular ride, and with miles and hills to go, I took one and I could really feel it cut in as needed!

Clif Shot® Bloks™
Now these I absolutely totally love! Think of a tube of 6 separate jelly cubes – a bit like the ones you used to eat as a kid. Each energy chew is 33 calories, and they come in four flavours – Mountain Berry, Strawberry, Tropical Punch (25mg caffeine per serving), Black Cherry (50mg caffeine per serving). On a ride, once I’ve got past the bars/flapjacks stage, these have turned out to be the perfect way to make sure I eat something every twenty minutes, which is so important. They’re easy to eat, and rather than gels, which give you a hit when you need it, these gave me a more sustained energy level. I like them so much I went out bought loads last month and I’ve been using them ever since!

Unsurprisingly what you eat on a ride is always going to be a matter of taste. However I’d definitely recommend the range – especially the Bloks. None of the products upset my insides, and I definitely felt fuelled throughout my rides – result!