Hypothermia, Wiggo and a Shaggy Dog

The Best Time Trialer In The World On The A63

Saturday the 16th of May was going to be a momentous date.

Was it because of the CRC club ride I was doing that day ? 

A hilly route out to Nunburnholme and back taking in 3 climbs at Warter, Londesborough Hill and the old favourite of Trundlegate.

Including the return journey to and from Barton this ride would be 75 miles. Close to the longest ride I'd ever done.

Or was the day going to be special because Bradley Wiggins was going to break the world record for a 10 mile time trial in the City Road Club event on the A63 ?

History could be made on this day.

I may well get quite a few PRs on Strava !

Wiggo may do pretty well also.

THE ROUTE

SHORTS ? YOU MUST BE KIDDING ?!

It was going to be a hard day in the saddle. My first issue was what to wear.

The sun was shining brightly in the morning but I knew it was going to be windy during the day bringing the temperature down.

I decided to go for 4 layers on top with cycling tights. Shorts ? No chance.




Poor Unfortunates In The Late Stages of Hypothermia

Needless to say when I arrived in Cottingham I was surrounded by people in shorts and short sleeve tops.

I can only surmise they must all have been in the late stages of hypothermia where the victim believes they are in fact too hot.

The only other explanation is that I am a little odd.....no I'm going for the hypothermia thing.

 LET'S TALK ABOUT THE TOUR DE YORKSHIRE

The first big hill was going to come just under 30 miles into the CRC ride so I set about going far too fast too soon particularly on Keldgate Road coming out of Beverley where I hung on to Ian's back wheel for grim death. This would be a recurring theme on this ride.

" This hill is like nothing compared to the Tour De Yorkshire"

The rest of the time on the way to the first significant hill at Warter was spent listening to June going on about the Tour De Yorkshire.

"Hill after hill after hill. What is the point of that really Alan ?"

"Yes June"

"Carol ! Alan thinks the same as me don't you Alan ?"

"Yes June"

"I mean it's not my idea of fun at all. Is it yours Alan ?"

"Yes June, I mean no June"

"I mean there must have been at least 20 big hills or maybe 30 hills , don't you think Alan ?"

"Yes June "

THE HARD PART OF THE RIDE

When we got to the first big hill at Warter I settled down to do a bit of silent suffering at my own pace. I was getting distracted though by Chris and Ben behind me who were chatting away without any distress at all.


Ben & Chris On The Hill At Warter

Whilst I didn't have the breath to string more than 3 words together they were having a long discussion about, of all things, hills that would be harder to go up than this one.

This was rubbing it in I felt. I summoned up a huge effort to string my 3 words together.

"I hate you !"

All this seemed to do was cheer them up though.

We made our way down Nunburnholme Hill which was a refreshing change. The respite did not last for long though as we lined ourselves up to climb Londesborough Hill at Burnby.



Carol Coming Down Nunburnholme

This is a tough hill. 1.3 miles long with an average gradient of 6 % but well over 10 % in places.

Once again I got on Ian's wheel and tried to hang on as long as possible. The elastic went twang about three quarters of the way up and Ben and Chris also came past. At least they weren't chatting this time.

No Chatting Now - To Be Fair There Is No One To Talk To

After the regroupment at the top of Londesborough Hill we headed off on the downhill section that would take us back to Market Weighton.

Gary came swooping past me spectacularly at speed shouting

"I hope you've got that machine on Alan !?" referring to my GoPro capturing one of his best moves.

I waited until he was out of ear shot.

"No !"

It would've made a great picture. As we cycled away from Market Weighton I made a big show of switching the camera on for Gary when he was right behind me.

" I can see it now Alan, there's a flashing LED "

"That means it's recording Gary, so show me what you've got ! "

It's On Gary - Show Us What You've Got !

On the way over to the last big hill of the day, Trundlegate, Ian really cranked it up on the front. For that matter he cranked it up after the last big hill of the day as well.

I faded in and out of the scene. Sometimes I was there on his back wheel and others I was killing myself to catch up. Being in front was out of the question.

Even the last mile into Cottingham when I was hoping to just spin the legs along Eppleworth Road there was a mad dash for the finish all set off by June.

"Never again Alan ! I'm never doing that Tour De Yorkshire again ! "

OK June for crying out loud !

After the finish of the club ride in Cottingham I made my way slowly back to Barton to rack up the last of the 74 miles of the day.

ALLEZ ! ALLEZ ! ALLEZ !

At least I was like Bradley Wiggins in one respect.

After a hard bike ride I was ready to spend the rest of the day on the settee and get Annette to carry all the shopping in from the car just in case I injured myself.

I toyed with the idea of not going to see Bradley and staying on the settee. I discussed it with Annette.

" Shall we go ? "
" Yes " she replied.

Discussion over.

Waiting On A Bridge Over The A63

We parked up in North Ferriby and made our way over to the Melton and North Ferriby junction with the A63. This was where the time trialers would exit the East bound A63 turn round and get back on the A63 heading West.

We positioned ourselves on the bridge section over the A63 and waited. There was 30 minutes to wait before his official start time.

I was glad that we didn't have long to wait as the wind was getting up and the temperature had fallen. It was getting really cold.

We ran into a number of people from the club who had chosen the same place to come Wiggo spotting.

I embarrassed myself by initially failing to recognise Ian who was waving to me from across the road.

Well I'd never seen him with his clothes on before. At least he was out of danger from the hypothermia now.

Oscar The Shaggy Dog

Unfortunately I would have plenty of time to practise my photo taking of time trialers as we learned that Wiggo's start time had now been put back to 5:15 pm.

I sheltered from the now biting wind by bravely standing behind Annette.

We were waiting so long that I got fed up of taking photos of the cyclists and moved onto portraits of Tracey C's fantastic shaggy dog.

That is not a euphemism. He is called Oscar.

Then eventually there was a buzz in the crowd and Wiggo himself was approaching. About time !

I focused on the roundabout to my right at the top of the off ramp from the eastbound A63 and got my camera phone ready.

There was a flash of white as he emerged onto the roundabout and then disappeared out of sight behind the roundabout itself.

Straight away it was apparent that he was in a different league to the other time trialers. That is an understatement to say the least.

It was like he was the best time trialer in the world.



Here He Comes ! - Tracy T's Picture

He came round the roundabout onto the bridge and flashed past us ...quickly. All our heads turned to the left like a tennis crowd watching a 100 mph serve. He went onto the roundabout on the other side of the bridge and then he was out of sight and gone.

All I could remember of this split second experience was that he had a golden helmet. Not golden balls but a golden helmet.

I looked at my phone to see if I had captured anything and by pure luck there was one picture showing him in a super position manoeuvring off the first roundabout. That will do for me.

What now ?  We could either watch some of the other competitors or go to the pub. What shall we do ?

15 minutes later I was downing my first pint of San Miguel and ordering my burger and chips.

We learned later that unfortunately Wiggo had fallen short of setting a world record for the 10 mile time trial.

" You know why that is love don't you ? " I declared when back at home clearly effected by the drink.

"No dear why don't you tell me " replied Annette.

"Well look at this picture" I said pointing at my phone "He's wearing shorts and is clearly suffering from the late stages of hypothermia !! "

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Seventy Miles And Batman On A Bike

Some Days You Just Can't Get Rid Of A Bomb

After the Tour De Yorkshire sportive there had been no real enthusiasm from me to get back on the bike again.

My back hurt, my legs hurt, my knees hurt, everything hurt.

I guess that is the the beauty, or perhaps the curse, of aiming to do a big ride some time in the future.

You have got to get out there and keep the preparation going or you will fall flat on your face.

Fail to prepare. Prepare to fail.

I needed to get back on the horse or the bike and get on with it.




Seventy miles.

That was the target for a ride now according to the training plan that I have never written down or articulated at all in this blog ( or T.P.T.I.H.N.W.D.O.A.A.A.I.T.B for short )

The club ride on Sunday was a 44 mile ride in the flat lands to the East of Hull doing a clockwise circular route through Withernsea and Sunk Island. The start was at the Swiss Cottage pub in Bilton which was a 26 mile round trip from Barton.

You do the math.

OK I'll do it then 26 + 44 = 70 miles. Looked ideal and most importantly it was flat. Thank god it was flat ! I never wanted to see another hill again.

The night before Annette and I went to the cinema to watch the latest Avengers movie. I like a decent superhero movie. This was a little too daft for me.

I am prepared to believe there is a god like being from another world wielding an impossibly heavy hammer.

I am prepared to believe that there is a superhuman soldier brought about by experimentation.

And, I am even prepared to believe that there is a billionaire arms dealer who rocks up in a flying iron suit.

But an individual formed by a 3 D printer as part of the evil plans of an artificial intelligence brought to life by a lightning bolt from Thor's hammer  and called The Vision ? And played by Paul Bettany?

No come on that's a little bit too silly for me.

What next ? Batman on a bike !?

THE ROUTE

I arranged to meet Steve on the south side of the Humber Bridge at 8 am. I had done this ride once before to Swiss Cottage and arrived late missing the start of the ride. I didn't fancy a ball breaking effort to catch up so suggested we meet at 8 am which was a bit on the early side.

The weather was quite warm and Steve was displaying his tattoos. If I got a bit bored doing 70 miles at least I had something to read.

Traffic was light going through Hull on a Sunday. One individual felt we were in the way and decided to sound his horn at us. Another brain surgeon on the way to an emergency operation no doubt.

No hang on he was a taxi driver. He must have been the patient then on his way to have a brain actually put in.

Steve Looks Quizzically At Our Impatient Friend

The fact that there was no oncoming traffic for as far as the eye could see and he could just overtake us without any delay to his morning whatsoever didn't seem to register with the chap.

A hundred yards up the road he had to stop anyway because of traffic lights.

I could have told him he was a plonker if I wanted .....but I wasn't that upset about it.

When we got onto Holderness Road I had to tell Steve to slow down or we would be there far too early.

"Who's idea was it to start so bloody early ?! " I said.

When we got to Swiss Cottage Steve sat down and had a fag. Legend.

Steve Has Finished His Fag - Let's Go !

DID YOU JUST SEE THAT ?

Once we had waited for everyone to congregate we set off on the ride and almost straight away came the most talked about moment of the ride.

Well the most talked about by me.

Heading out of Bilton we could see another rider coming in the other direction.

 It was Batman in full costume including leotard, cape, utility belt and mask.

You may be reading that last sentence again to check what it said.  Yes you read it correctly and it is totally accurate. I wish I had photographic evidence to show you but I had just turned my camera off so I missed it !

The most surreal part was when he passed us. Whenever you pass another cyclist coming in the opposite direction you will normally get a nod of acknowledgement. One cyclist to another.

And so it was with Batman. A courteous nod.

"Morning "

I wonder what that guy's story was ?

BACK TO REALITY

So leaving Bilton we turned left on Lelley Road and went by Lelley itself, Burton Pidsea and Roos.

Lovely lovely flat and gently undulating countryside.

Dave was on a bit of a mission being on the front or close to the front for a lot of the time.

Dave On A Mission

As we started on the road to Withernsea I thought I would lend a hand and do a bit on the front myself.

I like to be helpful but it seems my judging of the right pace for the group is still suspect.

"Alan can you slow down a bit as you seem to have decimated the group "

I was aiming for helpful and hit decimate.

Public Toilets At Patrington

After Withernsea we took a right at Holmpton and then onto Patrington where we had a stop at the public toilets.

Not very salubrious but very convenient (pun intended)

After Patrington was the loop down to Sunk Island and then back up to Thorngumbald. Up to press the pace had been steady and enjoyable.

BATTLE FOR THE TITLE " FASTEST MIDDLE AGED MAN ON THIS RIDE"

We nearly got as far as Thorngumbald before someone had to go and spoil it all by upping the pace and giving it a thrash thus drawing out the unhealthy competitive streak of others.

And who was it who kicked it all off ? No it wasn't me. It was Steve.

Andy and Phil C were at the front and I was just behind. Steve rocked up on my right and you could tell he wanted to get past. It was a narrow road though and he would have to pick his moment carefully.

The moment presented itself and off he went past Andy and Phil. I had not yet read all of Steve's tattoos and needed to keep close to finish his left arm. That is why I went after him and for no other reason.

Once I caught up with him I thought oh well in for a penny in for a pound and I gave it the beans as well.

" No one's coming past me " I thought.

Something came into my peripheral vision on the right. Then there was a blur of permatan legs and Gary came sprinting past. Epic. I got back on his wheel. Just.

Then there was a tight left hander which would require good bike handling skills to get round quickly.

Gary's Second Sprint Of The Day - Caught on Camera !

Consequently I slowed down as I do not possess good bike handling skills.

By the time we got to the outskirts of Thorngumbald that first little sprint had petered out and sanity was restored.

I had some bad news for Gary though.

He had joked for a while that he never got to feature on photographs or video even though he was pulling off legendary feats of cycling (his words).

His sprint into Thorngumbald had not been recorded as my camera was off at the time.

Phil C Comes Past

"Oh for crying out loud Alan what do I have to do ?!" he said with a big grin on his face.

The genie was out of the bottle though and the next thrash was only a couple of miles down the road on the approach to Paull.

This time the event was captured for posterity.

Once again Gary came tanking past me like David Dickinson on EPO and this time I managed to stick on his wheel.

I got delusions of grandeur and went for the pass.

This resulted in me dying on my arse and Phil C whizzing past seemingly effortlessly.

As we rolled out of Preston I was rather hoping that was going to be the end of the competitive stuff.

The road from Preston to Bilton however is very inviting and could well tempt somebody to go for a blast back into Bilton.

People would normally crack and go for it about half way back to Bilton. Nobody would ever have a go all the way from Preston itself , that was too far, that would be nuts.. ...what's Phil doing ?

Phil A came past and went to the front. He was moving smoothly and quickly and a gap developed between him and the main group. He was going for it.

Phil A Making History

Wow this was ambitious.

Should I try and catch him up ?

It was going to hurt if I tried but I had to decide quickly otherwise he would be gone. Let's give it a go.

I dropped down a few gears and pedalled like billio to start accelerating and then back up a few gears to maintain the speed.

I got up to his back wheel. This was fast. Surely he wasn't going to keep this up all the way to Bilton ?

After 2 minutes or so the intensity had not dropped. Oh shit he is going to keep this up all the way to Bilton. I could well be in over my head here.

I hung on and hung on wishing that God may move Bilton considerably closer to Preston. It was a long shot I know.

Phil was in front for the vast majority of the stretch to Bilton. As we got to the outskirts my mind started writing cheques my body couldn't cash and I decided to do a bit in front. After a short while Phil was in front again. That was pretty embarrassing.

The finish at Swiss Cottage couldn't come soon enough and at last it was over.

Alex Dowsett may have just broken the one hour world record but that was as nothing compared to the superhuman effort put in by Phil. He had just bagged the 3rd fastest time ever on the Preston to Bilton Strava segment. That's ...ever !

Put that in your pipe Alex Dowsett and smoke it !

If you want to see history in the making then the unedited video is just below.

Another achievement on the ride was Dave getting a personal milestone of an average speed of 17mph over 46 miles. Well done mate. That explains why he was on the front so much.

Dave and Gary At The End Of The Club Ride.

Excellent club ride. For the most part steady and enjoyable and then a bit of craziness at the end to get the blood pumping.

BACK TO THE BAT CAVE NOT SOUTH CAVE

I rode back through Hull with Steve, Mark and Phil A and then finally back to Barton with just Steve.

As we rode back over the Humber Bridge we were like the caped crusaders themselves returning to the Bat Cave after a hard day crime fighting.

I love the Adam West Batman. Some of the best quotes in film and television history.

" Hand me down the shark repellent bat spray " I said to Steve

" What ? "

"It's sometimes difficult to think clearly when you are strapped to a printing press ! "

" What are you on about ? "

"Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb ! "

OK non of that actually happened.

But what did happen as we rolled across the bridge was my Garmin ticked over to read 70 miles.

KAPOW !!

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Tour De Yorkshire Sportive - A Hill Too Far

The Crowd Was Going Wild For Me

In 2014 Yorkshire hosted the Grand Depart of the Tour De France. You may have heard about it. By all accounts it went pretty well.

Over the May Day bank holiday once again the streets would be lined with crowds 2, 3 and 4 deep to see the creme de la creme of cyclists going by.  Just imagine the conversation in the expectant crowd

" Wheers that t' cyclist Alan Clufff ? Theeare's nubdy better at pedlin t' bike than 'im ! "

What ? They weren't all going to be there to see me ?  Bradley who ?

Whilst the main attraction was going to be the professional peloton in the inaugural Tour De Yorkshire, my attention was going to be on the sportive event held on Sunday May the 3rd.

THE ROUTE

There were two courses the amateurs could choose from. The medium at 68 miles and the long at 88 miles. 

Back in February when I had registered for the 68 mile sportive I was seeing this merely as a convenient milestone on the way to my 100 mile ride target. I didn't even check out the course.

Annette would be doing the 30 mile "cycletta" womens only event. It would be a nice day out for the both of  us. No problemo.

However, as the event began to loom larger on the horizon I actually looked at the course in detail and guess what ? Problemo !

There was about 6500 feet of climbing with many super steep sections.

Just to add a little spice to the event, as the amateurs had to be off the course by the time the pros came through, there was going to be a broom wagon in operation. If you were not making satisfactory progress you would be swept off the road and transported, along with your bike, to the finish.

Surely there could be no more ignominious end to a day's cycling than this ?  Presumably those transported in the broom wagon would be put in the stocks and pelted with rotten fruit. If you were from Lancashire like me they would probably replace the rotten fruit with stones.

There was a cut off time to reach the final feed station at the 44 mile mark. If you didn't get there by 1.25 pm you would be invited cordially into the broom wagon.

" Dus tha want a lift lad ?!" An offer that could not be refused.

It would only need a delay for a puncture or a mechanical to put your typical 51 year old mediocre cyclist under a lot of pressure to avoid the stocks and that rotten fruit ........or worse.

THE START LINE

Let's Cycle 68 miles !

We arrived at the event parking at about 8.45 am. The weather was simply the worst. It was cold and it had been raining hard for hours. It wasn't forecast to stop raining until about midday.  Nightmare.

The car park resembled The Somme.

By the time I was ready to pedal it was gone 9 am, I had arranged to meet June from the club and Suzanne and Caroline to go round with them.

Things were somewhat chaotic and to cut a long story short I left them there somewhere on The Somme.

It ended happily though as they met up and went round together and faster than me anyway. 

The Start - 68 Miles To Go ( And A Few Hills )

Eventually I got underway already totally saturated, cold and miserable and I had not completed a single pedal stroke of the course.  Mentally I was not in a good place. Come to think of it physically I wasn't in a good place either.

I would be going around solo tagging along with any group or wheel that would put up with me.

Up until the first feed station that would be my good friends 2600 and 5032.

2600 and 5032 On The Way To Arthington. Mind The Water !

They seemed to be going a reasonable speed and they were chatting to each other so much that I doubt they even noticed me.

The first section of the ride was fairly civilised. Leaving Roundhay we headed for Arthington and then Poole In Wharfdale. The most difficult part of this stretch was dodging the small inland seas that had developed on the roads.

Just before Arthington was a steep descent called Black Hill Road that would be my Waterloo on the way back.

At the 11 mile marker coming out of Poole In Wharfdale was the beginning of the first serious climb up the A658. About a mile and a half hitting 9 % in places for the first section. Then just when you thought you were at the top it kept on going up, rising up for another 2 and a half miles.

Climb Out of Poole In Wharfdale - Game On !

All told about 4 miles of a climb topping out on the moor before dropping down into Menston.

Welcome to the party pal. The ride had really started now.

THE HILLS KEEP ON COMING

Menston was the start of the next climb. About 5 miles that would stretch nearly to East Morton following Bingley Road and then Otley road. The profile was familiar. A steep first section over 10  % in places followed by the agonising grind to the top at a lower gradient.

On The Way Down To Bingley

The top of this climb was the 21 mile mark. Well into the campaign now. Then a fast descent through East Morton and Sandbeds and the valley of the River Aire to Bingley.

After Bingley the road then headed skyward again. This was the start of another 5 miles of climbing that would take the ride to Harden and Cullingworth.

There was a particularly nasty bit just outside of Bingley ( about 15 % according to Strava ) where a lone couple had positioned themselves to spectate.
 

We Have Come To See Pain And Suffering

"You seem to have positioned yourselves at the point where you will see the most pain" I said.

" Weer not daft lad ! " came the reply.

This was my first bit of interaction with the crowd. OK I know there was only two of them.

Squeezing Through The Traffic In Harden

The climbing continued through Harden and to Cullingworth where I pulled into the first feeding station at the 28 mile marker.

CULLINGWORTH - FIRST FEED STATION

The only reason I stopped at the first feed station was that I wanted to go to the loo. I had plenty of food and drink left to get me to the final feed station.

Going to the loo was not a pleasant experience.

Let's just leave it at that.

The place resembled a refugee camp for cyclists.

People desperate for something to eat or drink or to get mechanical assistance or to avail themselves of the facilities.

The food was ...basic. Plates of boiled potatoes and plain biscuits.

It was like industrial scale factory farming.

I got myself out of there before I developed mad cow disease.

I only had a couple of swigs of I don't know what and the dryest biscuit I have ever tasted.

In hindsight a mistake.

This was also the last time I saw 2600 and 5302.

I had spent 2 hours looking at their arses and wondering if I should introduce myself. A bit like a potted history of my love life.

Our paths would not cross again after this. Also a bit like my love life.

Farewell and thank you.

THE COBBLES AT HAWORTH & CARNAGE AT THE GOOSE EYE

Mega Steep Turn Into Haworth

Leaving Cullingworth there was another 2 miles of climbing before the road dived down and I mean dived down into Haworth.

The final turn down into the bottom of Haworth was like being on a roller coaster. Should I shut my eyes and hold on ?

Once at the bottom we were heading for the cobbles.

Come On If You Think You're Hard Enough !

But first to reach the cobbles was Bridgehouse Lane which according to Strava is 12 %.

It seemed more.

To me the road was laying down a challenge.

"You want to get to the cobbles ? You've got to get past me ! ".

I stuck it in the bottom gear and did just that.

What else was I going to do? I was 30 miles from the car ! 

The cobbles themselves were a lot bumpier than I expected. 

 They Put The Bunting Out For Me In Haworth

At last my Specialised Roubaix Sport had seen some action on cobbles.

I was no longer a fraud. Not for this anyway.

At the top of the cobbles the ride was back on good old tarmacadam and it immediately plunged down another steep descent.

Mentally the downhill sections gave you no comfort because you knew the more you went down the more you would have to come up.

Sure enough the next one didn't disappoint.

Cure Hill up to Oakworth was three quarters of a mile at 9 %.

What irritated me slightly was that all the hills I had been up so far had not even been categorised or highlighted on the route profile. They were officially of no consequence. Just little pimples, nothing to be concerned about. I had not yet been up any of the 3 categorised climbs. That was messing with my head.

The Goose Eye was now approaching and this was not only going to mess with some of the riders heads it was going to try and bash them in as well.

The Upper Slopes Of The Goose Eye

Cote De Goose Eye is a little bit less than a mile and a half in length with an average gradient of 7 % and a maximum of 25 %.

Fearsome indeed.

The 25 % bit came right at the bottom in Laycock shortly after a tight left hand turn.

When I took this left hand turn I was confronted with a log jam of cyclists. The log jam was being caused by a patch of oil on the road and ride stewards putting down sand to absorb it. They tried to direct people to either side of the hazard.

The combination of restricted space, the massive gradient and already tired riders meant only one thing. Riders started to go down and that made it even worse. Literally a domino effect.

I saw a gap and I went for it. I had to force myself to stop grabbing onto the handlebars as when I did this and pushed down on the pedals the front wheel started to come off the ground. That's how steep it was.

Luckily I got through and quickly forgot about this distinctly scary event by adopting the first rule of Italian driving. What's behind me is not important

Oh yes and I also had the remainder of the climb to do. This was made a little bit easier by a gentleman at the top who was shouting encouragement.

" C'mon, you are nearly at the top ! Keep going ! You can do it ! "

This chap had the loudest voice I think I have ever heard. I could hear him from half way down the climb and my hearing is pants.

When I got to the top I thanked him for his support.

Getting to the top of the Goose Eye was no time to relax and let your guard down however.

Over the top was an extremely steep descent into Sutton-On-Craven. The road was slippy and dangerous.

Some came a cropper in a bad way on this descent and the ambulance service was scraping them off the road.

Maybe the broom wagon wasn't the worst way to finish this sportive after all.

Better finishing in the broom wagon than on a spinal board.

Whilst the hospitals must have seen their fair share of cyclists that day as far as I know no one was really seriously injured.
 

MORE HILLS & THE FINAL FEED STATION

After the carnage of the Goose Eye it was nice to just get back on a hill and suffer quietly and safely.

The hill leaving Silsden and running for 1.3 miles at an average gradient of 6 % was just that hill.

Thank You Sir Thank You Madam

Climb Out Of Silsden

Another pimple not worth getting concerned about. 

It was over 40 miles into the ride now and the final feed station was at 44 miles.

I had to be through that feed station by 1.25 pm to avoid the broom wagon.

I felt I was going to make it but it was going to be close.

I was beginning to think the cut off time they had set of 1.25 pm was flannel. A ruse to just hurry people up.

I had kept going, done a reasonable pace, not stopped or walked and I was only just going to make this cut off time.

There must be hundreds still behind me. Were they all going to get transported to the finish ?

I rolled into the the final feed station and was just as unimpressed with this one as the first one.

Having refilled my water bottle from a bowser I took my leave going past a line of coaches parked up that must have been the broom wagons.

I got out of that feed station with 5 minutes to spare. It was 1.20 pm.

My urgency to get through that feed station before the cut off and not eat or drink properly was again, in hindsight,  a mistake.

The consequences would arrive 15 miles down the road.

COTE DE COW & CALF AND THE WARNING SIGNS

 

People of Ilkley - I'm Over Here !

Going through Ilkley just before the Cote De Cow And Calf they had put the barriers out on the main street.

But where was the crowd? There were a few gaps on the railings to say the least..

No one seems to have told the public I was coming through.

Can you believe it ?!

Top Of Cow & Calf Climb

The Cote De Cow & Calf is a 1.3 mile climb running from Ilkley to The Cow & Calf pub along Cowpasture Road and Hangingstone Road.

Great names.

I thought it said "Cowpat" road at first opening the door to some comedy gold. But it didn't. It was just my dodgy eyesight.

I would be in the shit soon enough though.

The average gradient is 7.6 % with a maximum of 15 %.

The crowd was starting to build up now on the sides of the roads and the support was terrific. It was hard but I got up it OK . Only once I was past the pub did I realise that my camera was off. I switched it back on in time to get a picture of some parked cars. Plonker.

A few miles past the Cow & Calf I started to get some twinges in the legs. These were the all too familiar warning signs of cramp.  I thought I had been eating and drinking enough but I was well over 50 miles in now and still had loads of food on me and plenty of drink.

I had been too focused on making progress and getting past that final feed station.

I pulled over straight away, hit the flapjacks and guzzled some drink down.  I hoped it would work it's way into my system and avoid a full blown cramp attack which would render me unable to function and crying like a baby on the side of the road.

OK Alan just take it steady and whatever you do just make sure YOU DO NOT STAND UP ON THE PEDALS. In the past that had always been the thing that had pushed me over the edge into a cramp episode.

DEATH BY CRAMP

The final big climb was Cote De Chevin. Strava shows this as 1.4 miles long with an average gradient of 6 % and a maximum of 13 %.

I took it gingerly and steadily repeating to myself again and again

"Do not stand up on the pedals ! Do not stand up on the pedals !"

I took it so gingerly and steadily that I didn't even notice Cottingham Road Club member Niloy coming past me as he completed the long 89 mile route. Amazing ride well done.
 

Niloy Comes Past Me On Chevin

I got up Chevin no problem. Maybe I was going to get away with this ? That was all the hills now right ? I was on easy street.

I'll have a cigar and make it a big one !!
 
Er..no. Not quite. There was one hill left to go.

It was just as well my camera batteries were now flat and what was to follow was not recorded.

The last hill was one of those pimples on the profile that wasn't worth even mentioning.


Black Hill Road just after Arthington came at the 60 mile mark. 0.7 of a mile with an average of 9 %.

As I approached the bottom I could see it was an evil stinker of a hill and that many people were struggling and walking. I started up, I got anxious , I ignored my own advice.

I stood up on the pedals and pushed. The inevitable happened.

Holy Moly !! It was like being connected to a 240 volt electrical supply. Both legs just went into spasm and meltdown. The pain was excruciating. I had to unclip and stop. Shit.

I got to the side and out of the way. Just standing there both legs went into spasm again. Jesus Christ it hurt. I had a little cry. I am not a brave man.

There was no way I could pedal up this hill. I would have to walk. The shame of it. I got in the loser lane and started pushing the bike up the hill. As it turned out I only just manged to walk up the hill let alone ride up it.

On the plus side doing the walking got my legs functioning again enough to get back on the bike at the top. On the minus side after the walking I could hardly clip in properly for the rest of the ride.

Where did it all go wrong ?

THE FINISH AT LAST THE FINISH

The last 8 miles were unremarkable save for my repeated attempts to clip in properly. I just wanted to finish now. I was pretty fed up.

At The Finish - Inside I'm Crying

Pretty soon I was on the finishing straight in Roundhay Park with all the crowd applauding me in.

At least someone let them know I was coming this time.

I felt a bit of a fraud. I had walked up the last hill because of that cramp attack.

I should be made to go round and do it all again.

On the whole I have got to be pleased with what I did though.

Walking up the last hill because I got cramp doesn't make me a bad person.

All the other hills, yes they were hard and it hurt but I felt I was always going to get up them. I would have got up the last one too but for the cramp.

What can I do to make myself feel better about it ?

Shall I go back one weekend and do the whole route again to prove to myself I can do it ?

No thanks. I think I can live with the disappointment.

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