My top five magic moments on a bike in 2013

2013 has been a great year for me and cycling. I audaxed less, but deepened my involvement in the audax community. I couldn't travel abroad, but cycled in the UK more than ever before. I did less intentional 'training' than I had hoped, but found myself stronger than I ever have been. As has become my tradition, here are the most magical moments I've spent on a bike in 2013.

#1. Winding my way through the mountains on the west coast of Harris: Our tour of the Outer Hebrides in April was basically magical every moment. Harris' west coast was so beautiful, we rode it twice (in order to circumnavigate that island).

#2. Pedalling against the patriarchy on the hottest day of the year: As part of Rapha's Women's 100, some friends and I planned a Feminist 100km ride in East Anglia. I had so much fun cycling with only women, and being solely responsible for navigating was a great challenge that increased my confidence.

#3. Volunteering at the Loughton control of LEL: Ok, so I wasn't technically on a bike when we helped out at the start and end of LEL, but we did use our bikes to get there. Audax is a truly inspiring community, and LEL epitomises everything that is great about it. It was an absolute pleasure to be a part of it.

#4. Rolling into Oxford after completing the Poor Student Perm: I haven't audaxed much this year, and in fact approached the last month of the Audax season without a single completed ride. It felt good to complete an audax, but even better to finish feeling like I had ridden just at the limit of my ability, but not outside of it.

#5. Rolling along the A93 through Cairngorms National Park: On our second tour in Scotland this year, we crossed the Cairngorms one on of the best stretches of road we've ever been on -- the A93, a day and a half of pure cycling bliss. We enjoyed gorgeous weather, quiet roads, and the company of our good friend Mateo. 

2013 was our last year of cycling in the UK for quite some time. Although I am so excited for our next adventure, I'll really cherish these moments, and many others, of our time there.

My 2013 in pictures

As it has been the tradition for the past couple of years, here are some of my favourite pictures in 2013. 

January. Snowstorm in Epping Forest. This could well be a regular day in most of Scandinavia right now. But on a very cold and snowy Saturday morning, Dan and I set off to ride the fresh snow of the Epping Forest, still within the M25 of London. Even though we did not have any winter tyres, the snow was soft enough to allow some pleasant miles. 

February. Lucy (in pink at the front) leads a team of machacas including two serious ironmen triathletes down to Brighton. It was a typically English February morning, temperatures not much above 0 degrees celsius, damp roads and leafless trees. I rode this following a tough 200 km audax the day before, and could barely keep up with the guys (and girl!)

March. Pico Gallinero in the Spanish Pyrinees. Spain has some really good mountains, and lots of snow in the winter, despite what lots of people in the UK might think. It does get cold up there at 2600 m! I managed to pack a weekend full of off-piste skiing following a snowstorm the day before. 

April. The road to Tregaron on the Yr Elenith audax. This has to be one of the finest rides one can do in the UK. A 300 km audax, held in April, and superbly oganised by John Hamilton. It traverses Shropshire and goes into Mid Wales and back. The weather was typically Welsh (i.e. wet, windy, and cold) but I had a blast and wish I could return to these roads every now and then. Hugh, on the picture, kept me company most of the way.

April (II). Setting up camp in sunny  Hushinish. One of our most favourite cycling trips, if not the most, was to the Outer Hebrides in Scotland. We had sun 80% of the time. This picture was taken in the idyllic Hushinish beach, where we camped with a view of South Harris

May. Somewhere in Wales, with already 300 km under our legs, on the Bryan Chapman. This was my second ever 600 km ride, and the highlight of my audax season. The aim was to cross Wales South to North and back down within 40 hours and 8000 m of climbing in between. We had great weather, not a single drop of rain, and lots of sun on the second day. The company couldn´t have been better: Javier, a super-fit Spaniard also living in London, led the group on numerous occasions and put up with me for 38 hours.

June. Wearing a headnet on the A838 near Tongue. Scotland is known for its stunning landscapes, fjords and friendly people. But also for its midges. On a warm and calm summer day in Scotland, you get lots of flying tiny biting insects called midges. They can easily ruin your evening, as was the case. We ate on the go (literally!) and with headnets on. So yes, the photo was not taken on a Cambodian floating market, despite all looks!

July. The start of the London-Edinburgh-London. Having decided against riding this 1400 km audax, we did not hesitate to volunteer and give something back to the community that had worked hard for us in may of our audaxes. We registered riders from all over the globe, made baguettes and teas, cleaned, fixed bikes, and ultimately had a great time and met lots of interesting people. If you don´t ride next time, make sure you volunteer!

August. 5:30 am. The start of the Old 240 (miles) audax. A very wet, cold and windy hilly 400 km ride through the Yorkshire Dales. It took us almost 25 hours of real tough riding, where I very nearly bailed out had it been a bit easier to get back to the start. I completed my second ever super randonneur series, this time with lots of climbing points

September. Riding along the Schuylkill river in Philadelphia. Not all has to be long distances, rocky trails or touring. On a visit to Lucy´s family in Philly, we took on the trails alongside the river and simply had a good time.

October. 8 pm at sunset. A short overnight solo trip to Dunwich, on the Suffolk coast. Other than a very stiff headwind on the following day, and some heavy rain overnight, it was great

November. After the gales and rain, the sun finally shone. As a good-bye England weekend trip, Lucy and I visited the Peak District National Park, where we endured some heavy rain but still had a great time. In the off-season is a great destination to go cycle-camping from London

December. A crisp start to our climb to Puerto de la Fuenfría in Madrid. Back to my beloved Sierra de Madrid. Even though it was sunny and mildly warm initially, we encountered so much snow on the way up that we had to abandon our plans to climb to the Bola del Mundo at 2200 m. It will have to wait to warmer times, or spiky tyres.

Conquering the Poor Student Perm

Nearly a year ago, on a cold October day, we set out on the Permanent version of the Poor Student 200km audax from Oxford. It started out well, but eventually unravelled due to the cold temperatures -- I had not developed a system for keeping my feet warm. We made it around in time, but the last segment was certainly one of the most miserable times on a bike for me. I really did not want to be out in the cold any longer, and I made the decision at that point not to ride another 200 until the weather improved.

My audax career hasn't been particularly illustrious since then. We DNF'd the Dartmoor Devil in October and then the Shaftesbury Spring 200 in March (as temperatures remained wintry until April). Since then, I've spent time in the audax community helping out on various rides, but haven't actually managed to complete one myself. The prospect of finishing the audax season without a single point to my name seemed unacceptable, so I was happy to register myself along with Alberto to try again to enjoy the Poor Student Perm, this time hopefully in slightly better weather.

Early morning mist heading out of Oxford

We caught a 6:20am train from London to ensure maximum daylight riding time. It hurt to wake up that early, but it was the right decision as it also meant we got to enjoy quiet roads on our way out of Oxford. We rode the route in reverse, meaning that a stop at the Peartree service station, start- and end-point for many an audax in the area, was required. We got a receipt at the cashpoint and were headed out of the station when lo and behold, Justin from AC Hackney was pulling in!

He was coming off of a double header of the Dean 300, having bivvied in a field nearby the night before! Only in the audax world could a random service station be a bustling meeting place!

After a brief chat we were off again on our way to Chipping Norton. It was a lovely, misty morning and I was really enjoying being on the road bike, which I really haven't spent much time on this year. We were making pretty good time, and enjoyed a quick snack from a french bakery in Chipping Norton. The owner warned that rain was coming--he could tell because his bread was very soft--and sure enough just a few minutes after departing we starte getting some light rain. Fortunately it didn't last long; we didn't have to put on our waterproofs.

Cotswolds beauty

The section between Chipping Norton and Malmsebury (through the Cotswolds) has the only hills of the route. They're not outrageous, but Alberto reminded me that I had walked two of them last time around. Personally I have no memories of last year's attempt apart from the fact that my feet were cold. Anyway, this time I didn't have to walk any, although some were definitely tough, but I guess all that fully-loaded touring has made more of an impact on my fitness than I thought.

We made it to Malmesbury at around 2:30 and decided to have a proper rest in a cafe there. We had courgette soup and a hot drink, which really hit the spot. It wasn't cold out, but it was too chilly to stop for very long without adding extra layers - so it was nice to sit inside.

My legs had started to feel tired just as we approached Malmesbury, but after a rest they had pretty much recovered their full strength. We headed off on the final stretch still with a good amount of daylight left and still in good spirits. What a change from last time.

Snack break as the light starts to fade

There was a section after Malmesbury which was very unpleasant with heavy traffic. I'm not sure if it was the time of day, the road itself, or something else, but it was stressful and we were very glad to eventually turn off of it. Although my legs were now feeling fine, my back and neck muscles were not used to the road bike position and had started to bother me quite a bit after so many hours in the saddle. Similarly, for some reason my butt was hurting much more than it normally does.

This had the effect of making me look forward to the finish, but at the same time I was not unhappy. I did not experience  an emotional low at any point during the ride, something which is common for me on rides where I push myself a bit out of my comfort zone. I ended the ride feeling very spent, like I had worked hard, but I hadn't suffered. It's been a long time since I've hit that perfect balance and it felt great.

The Old 240 audax report

7:30 am on an overcast Sunday in August, at Sowerby Bridge. All I want to do is grab some food and get in to my little tent to instantly fall asleep. I had been riding for almost 26 hours, shivered like never before, ate way too many sausages and bacon, drunk more then 10 cups of tea, and departed from this very same place at 5:30 am the day before. I had finally, after two years wanting to do it, finished the Old 240 audax.



This event is one of those which comes with the must-do tag in Audax UK circles. It features super quiet roads, nice scenery, a challenging distance, and is organised by Chris Crossland, whose reputation amongst AUKs is second to none. A cheap ticket on a late Friday evening would place me in Halifax, and then Sowerby Bridge at 11 pm. Chris was waiting for me, and kindly offered to sleep indoors, but being a warm night and after having carried tent and sleeping bag with me, I declined and pitched in the dark. Alarm set for 4:45 am.

5 am, my tent is the little one at the very bottom. Sowerby Bridge, and Halifax in the background.

 I woke up to a warm morning, and was surprisingly fresh after only just about 5 hours sleep. I ate a couple of muffins, and crawled out of my tent to meet a few of the other riders who had also camped in Chris' garden. Being the usual faffer I am, I managed to get 5 min late to the start...so quickly grabbed my brevet card and joined a few of the other late starters on the High St. The little group I was in did not last long - most of them continued on straight whereas my GPS indicated a left turn up a hill. I was in for the hilly ride, the others were out on a 400 that headed out past Hull and back.

The ride promised plenty of climbing, somewhere between 5000 and 6500 m depending on what program you use to plot your route, and leaving Sowerby Bridge was just the very first hill of the day. I soon spotted a couple of riders ahead of me, and soon afterwards, the familiar faces of Justin and Joel from London. Together, we climbed up to around 450 m where we got to enjoy a beautiful sunrise. I love the good spirits and excitement of the start of a long ride!

Leaving Sowerby Bridge for the hills of the North

63 km into the ride we hit the first control, at Settle, where we decided to stop for some food. It was before 9 am, and we worried there wouldn't be much opened offering hot food. Even though my initial plans were not to stop at least until Dent (the second control, at 120 km) or even Alston, the welcome sight of a massive full English breakfast for £4.50 beckoned.

Sunrise

We left Settle with a full belly and pressed on to Dent, in the Yorkshire Dales National Park. The weather had behaved so far, and I was still hopeful that the forecasted heavy rain and wind moved East quicker than predicted. We rode the next section along relatively flat roads through scenic valleys. Once in Dent we had another tea and a slice of cake, and then the rain started. As we were retracing Dent, we passed Lars and Peter. Another rider, Nigel, sporting a Beverly jersey, was a little ahead of us, and we caught up to him.

Every time I come up North I always encounter some difficulties with the accents. But Nigel's was to be one of the hardest. Nigel's strategy was to stop little and not at cafés, certainly a wise idea when the (crap) weather approaches you and you want to save time. He also managed the whole route (or at least until he dropped us!) in short sleeve, despite torrential rain, high winds and low temperatures that we were yet to encounter.

From Dent we had a little climb up a pass called Hartside. I'd never heard of it before this ride, but Chris assured me it was very gentle and featured a few hairpins typical of Alpine climbs...so was quite keen to see it. When we hit that road, I realised we were in for a long and steady climb, where we averaged about 15 km/h. It was so gentle and pleasant, that I even managed to speak to Lucy on the phone (yes, I know, bad on me!) who was leaving for the US in the next half an hour. The weather was still warm and dry.

The last 3-4 km to the top of a pass were a whole different story. We had had a tailwind all the way from the start, but we were now turning into a very stiff headwind and torrential rain. It was here when I started to realise we were in for a tough ride. Atop the pass we were totally drenched, starting to shiver and the prospects of a quick descent into Alston did not look too appealing. My glasses were completely covered in water, so I could not see much either. Justin and Joel stopped at the top of the pass, where there was a conveniently located café, to warm up and eat something. They had been feeling a bit weak, surely due to the lack of food intake earlier on in the ride, so we had a quick break before heading out into wild.

Hartside pass, taken from drivingroads.co.uk (my camera was safely store in a dry bag!)

I really did not want to stop, cool off, and then go down the hill. On the other hand, I could not see much with my glasses all fogged up, so took the opportunity to dry them and somewhat warm up a bit. When we opened to cafés door it wasn't pleasant: strong winds, and horizontal rain to accompany us. I just wanted to get down to the valley, where I hoped for warmer temperatures and less rain, so started to pedal down the hill.

Luckily, the descent was very gradual and did not pick up much speed. The brakes did not work well, so that was another advantage. The tarmac was good also, which prevented unnecessary scary moments avoiding potholes. Alston was only a few km down...I was also starting to get very hungry, so was really desperate to get there.

Chris had suggested another café in Alston, but were a bit late for it - it was close to 5 pm. Fortunately, the owner must have felt sorry about us, and let us in. We made a big mess, spreading tons of rain water all over the place, but he was only too happy to serve us - he had been a suggested control of the Old 240 for many years and was keen to show us previous years signs. Even though I fancied pizza--the quirks of long distance riding--the café only offered cumbrian sausage, eggs and chips, which we were quick to order. I attempted to communicate my missery to Lucy, but there was no signal at the café, and was pouring with rain outside.

Cumbrian sausage (from foodonabudget.com)

The prospect of another 220 km in the rain and wind started not to appeal that much. We started to consider packing, and look at maps and asked for nearby stations - it did not seem particulary easy to pack at this place, so there wasn't many options left but to carry on. My shivering started to kick in as soon as I went out to get the bike ready, and was so bad that I had difficulties standing up. Justin and Joel felt the same, so I suggested we got going quickly to warm up, which seemed to work. No packing for now, and the forecast said thunderstoms were to clear in a couple of hours, so we risked it.

Alston had some cobbles up a hill, which did the trick and got me warmed. The next big climb of the day was the infamous Yad Moss, rising up to 600 m. The rain eased a bit, but never stopped. Before we even noticed, we were once again climbing steadily up Yad Moss, in some sort of light rain that gets you completely wet without much bother.

Getting up to the top was good, but again were faced with shivers, fogged up glasses, and a scary descent ahead. It was so bad that I asked Joel to go in front of me to signal potholes. My visibility was reduced to maybe 25%, it was just guess work and try to follow the Joel's bike in front of me. Joel's rain jacket had not been up for the torrential rain we were enduring, and he was feeling it. On the way down the hill, we saw a cozy pub that advertised rooms, food, and beer.

Top of Yad moss, in the winter that is. Only sky lift in England apparently...
I couldn't take any photos as it pouring with rain

In no time we three got in, ordered hot drinks, and cuddled up to a fire. This was mid August, and all I could think now was the ridiculousness of the situation. People stared at us with confused faces, which did not help when we mentioned our departure time, distance covered, and distance yet to be covered. Fortunately though, the landlord was a keen cyclist himself, only just getting to know audaxing, and had seen the LEL riders come through this very same place a few weeks ago. He checked the forecast for us, distances to nearby train stations, and offered some conversation.

Half an hour later, still wet, but much warmer, Justin and I headed back out into the first spells of sunshine. Joel had decided to stay at the pub, get a room, and set off in the early morning for a nearby train station to catch a train back to the start. I was very tempted to do the same, but then thought of the difficulties of getting back, the extra expense, and complications. We were still doing ok with time, so put our heads down and carried on with the descent.

The following section was very pleasant, in perfect temperatures, no rain, and beautiful roads. Barnard Castle was the next (and possibly last) place where we could stock up with food for the overnight section, and so we stopped at the local Co-Op. Rain had returned though, but it was light and because of the low altitude, it was not too bad.

Barnard Castle as we saw it (from manorhousecottage.com)

We left Barnard Castle at around 8-9 pm, with our saddle bags full of food, and into the dark. I was feeling a bit tired and thoughts of getting some sleep started to appeal. Having Justin company helped keep me more awake, so we made good progress. We went through and info control near Darlington, and then headed back into the Dales. We caught up with Lars, who, along with us, was the lantern rouge of the event.

The A684 was a pleasant road to do at this time of the night, despite the light rain. It was well past midnight, and there was no traffic, so we had it all to ourselves. We then took Ellers Lane, where apparently we would face another steep hill past Kidstones. The sound of the river running along it made for a unique experience. Once we cycled past the last information control, we hit the hill, which we were only able to feel and barely see at night. It was a long stretch of straight road, that only increased in steepness as we made progress on it. Justin (on fixed wheel) had to walk some parts of it, so I just disappeared into the night using my lowest gear of 30-27. Even then, it was quite hard work.

Half way through the last bit of hill I stopped to eat a banana. It was approaching 3:30 am when a random car went the opposite direction. My bright lights surely made him stop, as I am sure he wasn't expecting such thing at that time of the light, but the driver stopped by me and asked if everything was ok. I assured him I was good, and he carried on. Justin caught up to me shortly after that.

The descent was interesting, very steep and narrow, but luckily the rain had finally stopped, so I could get decent braking power. Even though I was feeling quite energetic and my sleepiness moments were a thing of the (recent) past, Justin needed a nap just as we finished our descent. Lucy and I have been joking about the well known "audax hotel" term by which audaxers define the bus shelters that are scattered around the UK. They do provide a decent shelter apparently, most important when it is raining, but also, sometimes, provide even a bench. In almost two years of audaxing, I had yet to try one of these and right now seemed the appropriate time. I could do with a nap also, so we quickly pulled into a luxury bus shelter, with a toilet block attached to it, in Threshfield We set the alarm for 5 am if I recall correctly, so a bit over 30 min.

Stopping at a pub in the middle of the night to check the routesheet

I carefully laid all my items around me, and quickly fell asleep to be woken up by my mobile phone's alarm. Pressed the snooze, and got another 15 min, after which we felt ready to go. Still dark, but spirits were high again, and we had a bit over an hour buffer time. Lars, the other rider behind us, went past us at some point, but we all got reunited at the next info control and then shortly after that at the garage control in Gargrave.

A very expensive coffee did the trick, and so we set off for the last stage of the event, in daylight, while Lars stayed indoors for a little longer to rest. The remaining km of the route promised to be relatively easy, some on major roads which, at this time of the morning, were totally empty, so we made good progress. Once back on the same bits of road we started some 22 hours earlier, I felt I was going to finally achieve my first and only 400 km ride of the year. We were still on time, with about 1.5 h to spare, so we took it easy and made sure we ate our provisions every now and then. With less than 15 km to go I relaxed and assumed we would be back in the comforts of Chris' house and my tent very shortly...but I was wrong.

Getting back to Halifax involved some ridiculously hilly sections over the ridge to the North of the town. One of them looked seriously unpassable after so many km, but I put all my efforts into it and succeeded. As of today I haven't walked any hills on the road bike in the UK - not sure if something to be proud of or not, as on many occasions people have walked them faster!

The steep hill at the end, a sting in the tail as they call it...

The downhill into Halifax was terrifying to say the least. My rims were covered in grit from the pouring conditions we had endured during the last 12 hours, and I could feel the brake pads being reduced significantly from the start. I was glad it wasn't raining though, as otherwise I would have had some difficulties slowing myself down on some of the sections...disc brakes are called for in wet weather and steep downhills!

Seeing the cobbles leading up to Chris' house was a welcome sight. We had completed the Old 240, and some warm food was awaiting us, along with tales from other riders on our and the Hull event. Apparently we had the rain, but they had the headwinds. I am not sure if I would have preferred the wind or not, but this had surely been a tough ride, with a handful of times where I would have packed had the getting back to Halifax in the morning had been easy.

After a couple of hours of siesta in the tent, with more warm rain, I set off for the station and back to London. The weather had been rubbish, and I had been colder than I even remember in the UK, and this was in August. The route was fantastic though, and I really would like to make a return to the Dales sometime in the future. Chris' organisation had been great even though this was a basic event, with nearly no facilities other than his house at the start and end. The company made this ride a lot easier, no doubt, so thanks Justin, Joel, Lars and all the others that we met on the ride for that.

The stats were as below:

Not that bad, considering we stopped for more than 5 hours!

Helping at the start of LEL 2013

(Editor's note: Some internet issues have meant we haven't updated in a while! All back to normal now so expect more posts soon!) 

Having made the decision not to participate in Audax UK's flagship event, London-Edinburgh-London 2013, we decided to help out at the starting control, on our continued mission to give back to the audax community.

Sue and Keith were in charge of the Loughton (London) control, and having ridden their National 400 last year we were keen to help out. Early Saturday morning, we cycled along the canal and out to Loughton, in Greater London. We arrived jsut before 9am, pitched our tent and got to work. Both of us were in the admin team, so we were registering riders, which was great as it meant we were able to interact with lots of them.

Registration in full swing

It was great to see riders from all over the world travelling to the UK for this event. I knew it beforehand, but seeing them all really underscored the fact that audaxing is a global community. Apart from the usual European suspects (from memory, plenty of Germans, Italians, Frenchies, Spaniards, Dutch, Danes, Swedes, Finns, Swiss, Slovenes, Austrians, Belgians, Irish, English, Welsh, Scots, Poles and Portuguese) we were delighted to welcome lots of Americans, Canadians, Japanese, Taiwanese, Koreans, South Africans, Uzbeks, Indians, Brasilians, Colombians... It felt great to be a part of it.

Taiwanese delegation

After the last riders were registered, all the volunteers had a meal together and then got to work prepping food for the following morning. It was really nice to spend some time with the 'senior' audaxers, most of whom had come down from Norfolk to support Keith and Sue. There are so few times when people of different generations interact socially, and it's something I really enjoy about audaxing.

Sue and Keith speaking to the volunteers

About that time, the expected rain finally came in droves, so we stuck around the school for a while to see if it would let up. When it didn't, I put on a bin bag poncho and Alberto took off his tee shirt, and we ran to our tent where we had a pretty good night's sleep, before our 4:45am wake up call.

Double human chain to load the bag drop bags into the van

Just a couple baguettes

We got to work helping get 1,000 riders on their way to Scotland. Alberto moved around between the tea and cofee area and helping out with the mechanics, and I was stationed in the luggage store, where riders were storing all those last minute items they had decided not to carry.

In the luggage store area

Chief mechanic hard at work

It was great again to interact with so many riders. The riders left in waves, starting at 5:30am and going until 10:30am. Actually, the last rider left a bit after 10:30, which was a good few hours after his planned start time, due to his rack breaking and having to take a trip to Halford's to get a new one!

Keith sends off the second starting wave at 6am

The last rider to leave (from France) after a crowd of volunteers helped him with his rack

All that was left after the last riders left was a bit of tidying up, and we packed down our tent and were on our way back to London in the early afternoon. It was unexpected, but we were both feeling a little bit envious as we headed back to our warm bed, thinking of the riders out on the road tonight and possibly for the next four nights.

Cleaning to hall for the arrivee

But being able to help out and do our bit for the event was definitely the next best thing to being out there. The number of volunteers who contribute to an event like LEL would be unfathomable in lots of other sports, from the people who plan for years to make the event a success, to those like us who turn up on the day to help out, audaxing is all about mutualism and a spirit of cooperation, and that's one of the best things about it. Anything we can do to keep that spirit going is time well spent.

And they're off!

Bryan Chapman Memorial 600 km audax 2013 video

Recently published by a rider who filmed and took a good number of pictures on the Bryan Chapman. It really gives you an idea of what was like.


Old Joy from Milltag on Vimeo.

Bryan Chapman Memorial 600: the rider experience

It has been a few days since we returned from our intense weekend in Wales. Memories of this fantastic ride have been occupying my mind for hours each day, especially when I try to remember what happened where and at what time. It all got mixed up by the time we made it back to the start, some 37 hours after we first started pedalling away from Chepstow.

The Bryan Chapman Memorial, or BCM, piqued my interest when we joined Audax UK a couple of years ago. Reading through some of the posts at YACF about which rides people recommend, it kept coming up top on the list. I have also got to know a few people who had ridden it, and I used to look at them as some sort of cycling super heroes. Riding from the very Southeast of Wales to the Northwest, and back, seemed like a tough undertaking for the average cyclist like me.



In 2012 we rode the Camino de Santiago, and incidentally, we spent the Saturday night of the BCM sleeping on the floor at a lonely Gatwick airport waiting for our silly o'clock flight to France. Back then, when trying to catch some sleep, I recall thinking about the BCM riders riding thorugh the night. I could not miss it again in 2013, so I made sure I put my entry in early enough.  Lucy still wasn't sure about the long(er) distances, but somewhat I convinced her to come and help on the event. Perfect, a weekend full of fun in May!

Things got busier for me in the weeks leading up to the BCM.. Not much time for riding, except at the weekends. Preparations did not go as planned (do they, ever?) but managed to fit in a few tours in April and May, and one hilly ride the weekend before the BCM. All that was left was to get good sleep the week before the event, which I also did not quite manage.

On the Friday before the ride, we caught a super busy 7:15 pm train from Paddington to Bristol, and after a bit of begging with the train guards, we got our bikes on board and squeezed in with hundreds other heading to Wales. Adam, Justin and Jordan, three audaxers also based in London, were also on our train. Once in Bristol Parkway, we made our way towards the infamous Severn View travelodge, on the England side of the Severn bridge. It was a pleasant short ride catching up on audax rides and plans with our fellow audaxers. Soon after midnight we were tucked in bed, ready for the big day.

Alarm went off at 4:45 am, but of course, I had been awake for quite some time beforehand. A quick calorie-full breakfast was consumed in a rush, as always, while seeing riders setting off from the window. Lucy and I left the hotel room at 5:20 am, and got some nice morning breeze while crossing the Severn Bridge.

Crossing the Severn Bridge

Severn river view, 5:30 am

We got to the start with only 15 min before the official 6 am off. Quickly introduced ourselves to Ritchie, the main organizer, and Lucy run off to the kitchen to help Claire, Ritchie’s wife, with the teas. While I was getting myself ready for the off, I heard someone calling out my name, and it didn’t sound like the usual Alberchow with an English accent, but more like it sounds in Spanish. Javier, whose brilliant blog I have been following for a few years now, had spotted me. We must be the only two Spaniards in the UK who ride (and possibly blog about) audaxes. His great accounts of audaxes, and later on Paris-Brest-Paris (in Spanish), were one of the reasons I took up audaxing. He is a quick rider, so joked with him about seeing him at the start and possibly never again during the ride. At 6 am approximately 130 intrepid cyclists set off for a weekend full of fun. Javier decided to drop his plans to go flat out for the first 200 km and would take it easier for now, so set off together.

The usual start of any audax, except note the larger saddle bags and a mix of riders from all over the UK

There’s little traffic on a Saturday at 6 am.  It was quite warm and we quickly stuck with a few groups who gave us a lift for most of the first stage. Javier and I caught up on a few years of experiences both on and off the bike. As a fellow Spaniard and Londoner, there’s much in common between us. I also saw quite a few other familiar faces, mostly people who I rode with my first 600 back in September: Rob and David. The first 80 km to the first café control went by very quickly, with no hills to speak of except the occasional bump. We had crossed the Breacon Beacon National park.

Javier taking it easy on the first few km

Javier’s plan was to machacar (to hammer down) his first 200 km, flat out, and then take it easy for the remaining 400 km. He is not only doing LEL, but also a very challenging a hilly event in the Spanish Pyrinees: the Quebrantahuesos. From what I recalled reading his posts, he completed that hilly ride in almost no time. I insisted he should go ahead if he felt like it, but he agreed to stick with me for now. Even though we weren’t pushing it, we rode at an average of almost 29 km/h, and so without much delay were in the first café control. Lucy had gone past us with Ritchie on their minibus on their way to Dolgellau and said we were near the front of the group, looking good.

One of many traffic lights on country roads

Couldn't have asked for better weather! the hills are coming

A good number of fellow riders had already made it there, and were having some food. We did not fancy waiting, and my plan (if I ever had one!) was to ride the first 200 km, as quickly as reasonably possible to buy myself some time for sleep later on. If I rode at a good pace, minimizing stops, I should be able to get back to the Youth Hostel (our sleep stop) sometime around 1 am. We went into the café, got our stamp, ate a bit of our own food provisions and pedaled off.

It's hard enough to ride a Brompton in Central London, not to mention on the hills of the BCM!

Food while audaxing is something that I am still experiment on. Most people reckon is a difficult task to manage, especially on long brevets. Initially, everything goes down well and feels appetizing, but as the ride progresses, only very few things inspire my appetite. Javier, who has many more long rides under his belt than I do, was also experimenting with food for his LEL. English muffins and nutella were his snack food, while a large pasta salad formed his main course for the ride. I, on the other hand, had only got three cheese/tomato and fuet (a type of salami, a bit dryier than usual) sandwiches and some cereal bars.

The second stage to Nant-Yr-Arian had some hillier terrain ahead. We were still making good progress though, if it not were for the many traffic lights that we encountered on the way. Wales roads are usually in a much better condition than their English counterparts, but they must require a lot of work after the harsh winter we’ve just had. On one of those stops I needed to empty my bladder. On this occasion there was a woman handling the traffic lights, and so I politely ask if she did not mind if I peed on the other side of the road, while waiting for the green light. I was minimizing stopping in true audax spirit. As it happens, she was a Wales police officer who joked about giving me a fine with the other riders! Luckily she seemed in a good mood and only laughed about it. I did explain that saddle pressures may be responsible for my transitory incontinence. Even though this was intended to be a joke, I spent a good deal of my PhD dealing with bladder disease, so I knew what I was talking about!

Javier and Graeme on a quiet Welsh main road

 Another rider, Graeme, joined us for a while. Coming from the Durham area, he had made the long drive to Chepstow the night before, and was doing this as his first 600 (forget me if I got this wrong though!). One thing he did mention, and both Javier and I agreed with, is that this long audaxes should be (and they are, at least for me!) a holiday. No need to rush it.

Discussing whether audax should feel like a holiday

There were lots of unusual bikes on the BCM. From the usual low-end Moultons, to a top of the range (pricey) one, disc brakes, electric gears (one rider reported a flat Di2 battery!) a Brompton, fixies, one recumbent and someone mention a tandem?

Pricey Moulton. A good example of British engineering at its best

A headwind made an appearance as we climbed towards the second control. This made the group split, leaving Javier and I slowly grinding up the gentle hill. Even though it wasn’t steep by any means, the headwind made for some slow progress. Javier moved to the front and I just tried and follow him.

160 km into the ride we got to the second control. At the café we saw a good number of bikes outside, indicating a potential delay in getting our food ordered. Even though I had food, I fancied a little reward in the form of warm soup. Potato soup and leek was my choice, with double serving of bread, a coke and a scone. Not the quickest service, but we got lucky to get there before the main group. The area looked nice, and I suppose may be busy with mountain bikers at the weekend given they had bike washing facilities and were showing downhill videos. Apparently all their loo water and bike washing water is collected from rain.

The scenery was already changing

Much needed café control at Nant-Yr-Arian

Should check this out on a mtb, sometime

My stomach had already been complaining by now, but it wasn’t unbereable. A quick visit to the loos did the job, at least for now. Upon leaving the café, the queue was considerable. We saw Jordan pull in as we got ready for the descent. It was colder now, so we put on some long finger gloves and quickly got back on to the road. The next stage would take us West towards Dolgellau, which we would visit again at the 400 km mark.

The downhill from here was quick, and on very smooth tarmac. This section took on main roads, which for the standards we are used to in the Southeast of England, weren’t too bad. A few drivers though kept on using their horns, for no real reason. The road had some elevations, but again, nothing to serious and always very gentle when going up. We were in a group of 7 or 8 riders, all led by Tom, the organizer  of some fine Essex brevets whom I also rode my first 600 km ride with last September. As Javier best describes it on his blog “the Mozart of the pace making”, he kept the perfect pace for a while that no one bothered or were able to do a turn at the front. Thanking him when I finally got past him, he said he actually enjoys being at the front keeping his own pace!

Tom (aka the Mozart of the pace making according to Javier) leads the group

Glad we did not turn on to the road on our right hand side

Dolgellau, or rather, the Kings Youth Hostel, was our next stop. Here, the organizers had booked the entire hostel for the event, serving both as kitchen/dining room for hungry audaxers, as well as dormitories for the return leg. Having that spot for both the 225 and the 400 km mark gives you encouragement. In my case, also, I would have the opportunity to catch up with Lucy, who would be helping at the hostel. Food was also provided, and unlimited, which was great.

Timings were perfect for us, as we ended up arriving at the hostel for Spanish lunchtime. A few people were already there, and we caught up with one of Javier’s friends, who was an hour or so ahead of us. Everyone was in such good spirits that I truly enjoyed just speaking to people. Lucy saw us through the window and quickly left her volunteer duties to come say hi.

The nice steep road leading to the YHA at Dolgellau, 3rd control

A whole hostel was hired for the event. Food and  later on beds awaited hungry and tired randonneurs

We sat down, ate two servings of pasta, soup, and rice pudding with fruits and some coffee. Lucy said the first guys were way ahead of us (at least 3-4 hours), apparently one of them was an Olympic rower, and that we were still at the front of the main peloton, which allowed us to be served and looked after very quickly.

Well fed, and a bit lighter after yet another visit to the toilets, we set off for the last Northwards leg. I had heard many good things about the leg from here to Menai bridge, mostly because it combines some coastal sections with Snowdonia. So you get to see both the nice beaches of the West and the sharp peaks of the Northwest. I was still feeling good, despite my stomach issues. Legs still spinning without any significant pain, which was indeed a good sign.  During lunch, we also learnt that due to a 11 km diversion on this route, some people were taking the return leg along the A470 rather than the coastal route, saving themselves quite some distance and climb…but as another guy said, we were in for the whole thing and the scenery, so we did not even considered taking shortcuts.

Only 410 km to go! Leaving Dolgellau

On the cycle lane towards Barmouth.

Shortly after leaving Dolgellau, we joined a nice cycle route along the coast. Barnmouth was the next village in sight, and from there on we just travelled parallel to the coast for quite some time. The views were amazing, I was certainly quite impressed, and it reminded both Javier and I of the North of Spain. We were lucky not to have any rain or wind.

Amazing views on the coastal section (overlooking right on the Barmouth bridge)

Reminded me of the North of Spain

Once we left the coastal route we made a quick stop to get some food. The return leg would be quite lonely, without many services, so I decided to stock up on calories just in case I needed them on the way back. We also had a couple of milkshakes which, I have found, are good and very appealing on audaxes. It was somewhere after our stop that we saw two guys on triathlon bikes with lights, chasing each other at crazy speeds, so we figured they must’ve been the guys at the front. Quite amazingly they were not far from the 400 km mark, so at least 100 km ahead of us!

Another guy sporting a Bath jersey joined us, and we made the usual conversation of rides, ideas and experiences. I don’t mind riding on my own, in fact I quite like it sometimes, but always find company a very welcome sight, especially if people are keen to chat and share ideas and rides. Even though it was still light out, we both started to feel a little sleepy and at some point even thought of dozing at the next control. We then figured that that wouldn’t be a great idea, especially given the weather was still great and that the real good stop was in Dolgellau, with beds and food.

Shame it got cloudy and couldn't see Snowdon

Pen-Y-Pass was the big climb of the day, yet it was so gentle that we kept an average of 14-15 km/h going up it. The roads were nearly deserted by now, and it certainly did make a very pleasant time for riding. As the road winded up its way through Snowdonia, we saw other randonneurs coming up it in the distance. We did not faff much at the top, other than a few pictures, and went straight down the hill. My aim was to try and get to Menai before it got dark so at least I could see a bit of it before the return leg.

Climbing Pen-Y-Pass

Great scenery in Snowdonia

The last 10 km or so to the next control were a little weird. I was expecting a mostly downhill section, but it turned out to be more rolling that I would have liked, and my legs were ready for some rest after a lengthy stretch. We passed Llanberis, which I recognised as the place I stayed at when I walked up Snowdon back in 2009. It was getting dark as we crossed the bridge on to Anglesey, and we got the wrong turn on a couple of occasions before we found the control (I am sure a lot of people did!).

Lights on

Crossing Menai Bridge, half way there!

Another warm welcome was awaiting us at Menai. Yet more hot food, biscuits and bread were the mainstay of our dinner. It was past 9 pm, so again, perfect timing for Spanish dinner time. We could see how the ride was taking its toll on some people – we saw a guy properly snoring on the floor. We took it easy, ate, visit the loo and got water for the next leg. Just before 10 pm we set off on super quiet roads back up through Snowdonia. Lots of people were coming the opposite way on our route, indicating that quite a few riders had taken the return leg to Menai and declined the lovely coastal route.

Warm welcome at Menai control

Javier had by now decided to ride with me for the remainder of the ride, which was certainly a most welcome idea! Having someone stronger and more experienced than you always helps, and especially through the night, makes the km a lot easier. We were also feeling sleepy, but did not want to stop for sleep, so we made an extra effort to keep chatting. Not only did I learn many good things about the longer distances (i.e. PBP) but also discussed (or tried to) business and non-cycling related topics.

The roads at night don’t seem too hilly until you hit them and see your speed dropping/rising abruptly. But there were few of these to speak of, being all long drags up and down Snowdonia.

We were joined by a couple of other riders. Slowly but surely we made good progress towards the control, eventually making the infamous left turn onto the steep section of road leading to the hostel. We had already clocked up more than 400 km. Even though this was meant to be a hilly ride, I appreciate is quite a quick one. I had made my fastest 200 km to date (8.5 hours), my fastest 300 (under 15 hours) and now the quickest 400 under 20 hours. The weather had certainly played a role, and so had having good company and little stops.

4:15 am looking out of my window dorm

Lucy had just woken up by the time we arrived. She had been busy throughout the day, and only got 3 hours sleep. Almost like an audax on feet, running around serving people’s food! She served us yet more food before we requested a couple of beds. Due to the number of people already there, and many others yet to arrive, we were only allowed 3 hours of sleep. Others took on the sofas, with no limit of hours, but we resorted to greater comforts of the beds.

Mine was already warm from a previous guy. Even though I was quite tired, I could not fall asleep straight away, and took at least 15 min to pass out. I woke up with a full bladder and just looked out of the window – it was around 4:00 am and the front yard was full of bikes, indicating most people were already back and having a rest. I went back to sleep only to be woken up once again at 4:45 am by my very own alarm – as it turns out I had forgotten to turn it off from the night before. Admittedly (I am rubbish waking up to alarms!) it took me a while to realize it was my phone and was sorry for the other people in my room…turn it off and went back to sleep until 6 am ish.

By that time there were empty beds in my dorm. Javier was already up (he was in the bunk bed underneath mine) showered, and was enjoying a relaxed breakfast. It was when I asked him if he had got a good rest, he said “yes but someone alarm went off at 5 am and he did not even notice until after the second time it went off, pissing me right off”. I laughed when I mentioned it was in fact my alarm. I was feeling quite fresh and ready for some food and yet another 230 km.

About to leave the Hostel, 6:50 am.

Even though I know I had to top up my calories for the ride ahead, I couldn’t eat much. Stomach was still making funny noises but it all seemed under control. There were few people left by the time we were ready to leave, which was close to 7 am, but we were still quite relaxed and enjoying the atmosphere. It was another warm morning and we were only 1/3 of the way to the finish, so couldn’t be happier. Our estimated arrival to Chepstow was in over 11 hours.

Just as we were about to leave, we saw at least one other guy pull into the control. He had surely been riding through the night and was just getting to the control. He looked in so much discomfort and appeared to have difficulties getting off his bike. Not the image I had seen throughout the ride, but I can imagine the slower riders having a tougher time than we were. I can assume this is more common in the longer brevets such as PBP and LEL, but will only find out in 2015!

Emtpy roads at 7 am

Setting off felt good, no sore legs or butt, and a glorious day of riding awaited. The first hill of the day would be one of those slow drags that have you wondering whether it is ever going to end. Eventually it did, after near 10 km. Another one, more steep, followed, and then the first control of the day: Aberhafesp.

The organization at this control was also superb. We were served breakfast pretty much before we even had got to our seats. Another surprise came when someone hugged me from behind – I knew quite a few people on this ride, all men, but don’t think any of them would feel the impulse to give me a hug. Javier and I had spent quite some time together, riding through the night, but I thought the sound of the alarm at 4:45 am would have prevented him from giving me any of his affection. It was Lucy, who had just arrived with Ritchie after having just closed the Dolgellau control.

A long climb ahead

We had a second full English (well, no beans for me) breakfast. By the time we set off we saw the Hackney guys pulling in, and they too seemed in good spirits. Rode for a little while with a couple of people, one London based rider in SRW club gear, and someone else. We stuck together until we hit the first climb. We did not know it at the time, but this was to be the highest summit of our entire ride at 500 m. Certainly not a Pyrinean summit, but still quite a drag when you’ve got close to 500 km on your legs. Javier and I ended up dropping the other guys before going down the other side of the hill. I topped in excess of 70 km/h, but then the next hill came. At this point, with just under 100 miles to go, we hit a rough patch. I felt weak and hungry and we both agreed to have a quick stop to eat and drink something. Even though I still have plenty of wrapped food in my saddle bag, none of it was appetizing at the time. The garage had much more appealing food, especially given it was sunny and warm outside. A milkshake and chocolate did the trick.

Back to the lanes

 Weobley was the last free control. We turned right onto the High Street and saw a few bikes piled up at a café, but we pressed on looking for a shop. Quite a few riders were already there, having a good rest on the grass. Javier and I went in to the shop, bough some icecream, drinks and other audax delicacies and enjoyed the weather. I felt so sleepy and was tempted to just go for a mini siesta, so did some others from the looks of things.

Last control at Weobley, a siesta was most appealing, but we resisted the temptation

Shortly after 3 pm we got back on our bikes and pressed on. The last 80 km were in unknown territory for me, and I did not quite remember what the terrain was like from the profile. What I did think was that it was mostly downhill. Perhaps it is from my Spanish genes (Spain seems to be the second hilliest country in Europe, and I can certify that!) but I always tend to think that the remainder of any ride is mostly flat or downhill… How wrong I was this time! We also noticed that we no longer saw signs for “araf-slow” on the road, meaning we were no longer in Wales but back in England.

A continuation of ups and downs was what we had for the next 50 km or so. As Javier describes on his blog, a “rompepiernas” or leg breaker. The hills were so steep that sometimes I struggled even on my tiny 30 teeth ring coupled with a 27 rear cog. I started to feel like this ride was a bit much, and was ready to finish it. The scenery did not help either, going back to being the usual green farmland that we are so used to. There was also quite a bit of traffic on the lanes, which were very bumpy also. We had been treated to excellent tarmac all round, but this section was just so full of potholes and my wrists were hurting a lot. I was jealous of the three riders on Moultons and their full suspensions!

Green & Yellow fields

Eventually we made it to the last biggish town before Chepstow, Monmouth. We were again in Wales. After getting a little confused with the routesheet and the gps, we finally got on to the last stretch of road (the A466) leading to the arrivée. We then saw signs for the Forest of Dean, which I was familiar with from the very fine ride of the Dean 300 that I did last year. Four more guys, including two Moultons and Rob (who I did my first 600 with) passed us. They were going at an slightly quicker pace than ours, but we both felt strong and stick to their rear wheels.

Train to Chepstow

Their pace was in fact perfect, and we made good progress through the nicely paved A466 following the river Wye. The last few inclines were very gentle, and Javier and I got to the front of the group to share a bit of the work. There were only 10 km or so left, and I started to feel the rush of being so close to the finish. Three riders who I had met on the Elenith were in a hurry to get in before 7 pm and went past us like real pros. We weren’t bothered with times and just tried and enjoy the last bit of the ride.

We got to the HQ seconds past 7 pm, having ridden 632 km in the last 37 hours. Got our card stamped and were quickly offered a bacon sandwich and a drink. Two years after I first heard about this ride and here I was, feeling (relatively) fresh and happy to have just finished it.

Overall I believe this has been one of the best cycling excursions I’ve been on. Last year in September, when I did my first ever 600 km ride, I really wondered whether long distances were for me. Someone (MattH from Yacf) suggested I gave the Bryan Chapman a go, and so I did. Surely the weather helped a great deal, but I think I’ve come to love the long rides again. The scenery, organization and company had been the best I could’ve hoped for.

We were back in London at 10 pm, and really it all felt like a dream. I had crossed Wales twice, left work at a normal time on a Friday, and will aim to be back a normal time on Monday (if a bit too sleepy and happy). Sometimes it feels like you’ve achieved a lot at the weekend, and this was certainly one of those times.

Stats

My thanks go first to Ritchie, Claire and daughter, Mark, Stan, Jo, Andy, helpers at Menai and Aberhafesp, and of course Lucy, who not only agreed to come and help, but gave me the extra motivation to make it to the next control (see her helper report here). All of you did a superb job in making this happen. I will try and give some of this help back at the start of the LEL. Muchas gracias to my riding companion Javier, who adjusted his machaca schedule to ride with me from Chepstow, put up with my faffing at controls, and most importantly, did not push me of a cliff after the 4:45 am wake up alarm at Dolgellau. Riding long distances in good company really does make a difference.

Other riders have written accounts of their own BCM:

- Wilkyboy and zigzag on here
- Lucy's account as a helper here
- Graeme blog post here
- Javier's blog in English here and Spanish here
- Marcusjb here and here
- General discussion and ride reports on the YACF BCM post here