Train to Skipton to avoid the less pleasant roads before what I should have registered as a DIY 200 km. Unfortunately I didn’t take any photos of the comedy off-road section just after Gargrave, amazed that I didn’t come off.
Scotsthrop Moor (Airton – Settle)
River Lune and the M6
Between the M6 carriageways near Orton
210 km, 13 hours
The reason for the trip was to help out on the Highland Fling 1000 km at the overnight stop in Caste Douglas in the Gordon Memorial Hall, along with Les and Andy, and run by Windy. Pretty much spent all night making sure there was hot and not-too-soggy pasta at all times. Quite an interesting experience to see the pointy end of the ride (I’m never going to be there otherwise). Photos by Windy and Dean.
Windy’s apron
(C) Deano
Dean made these splendid drop bags, one of which I have thanks to a DNS rider
First section of the return journey was a detour to visit a proposed section of LEL, which Andy had been telling me about at the control. He had un-recommended it for that because of very bad road surfaces (which it had) and it was indeed rejected before the final route was published. I tool a wrong turn somewhere and didn’t quite go the way intended, but these were new roads for me despite being just outside Lockerbie.
I have long wanted to try following the train line along the Settle – Carlisle route, which I did once I was through Carlisle. Stuck to the rail line as closely as possible but called it a day at Langwathby, which was around the 100 km mark, plus it gets a bit fussy around here and Appleby.
I was ready for a 200 km. Just not this one. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an amazing route; beautiful scenery and very quiet roads. But the wages of scenery are hills.
I fixed a puncture in light snow and fading light in my way up Swinhope Head, then descended to Middleton in the dark with a flickering headlight. It’s only about 40 km back to Darlo, but I was done. A stop at the Co-op and phone calls to a few taxi companies, all but one refused to take a bike and that one wouldn’t be available for ages, so I tried one of the hotels/bars in town and was delighted when they found me a room, and also let me leave my bike in the cellar overnight.
The following morning was sunny and I had a nice ride back via a much needed cooked breakfast in Barnard Castle.
Hexham
Ah, downhill at last. Surely we wont be going up that road I can see on the next hill…
This is a bit of a different audax, with extended off-road sections. They are mainly old rail trails so not muddy single track (well, there was mud). Consequently there were a variety of bikes in attendance; ‘normal’ audax road bikes, gravel bikes, mountain bikes, and a recumbent. I thought about putting my touring wheels back on for the ride, but was too lazy. The UK had been visited by a storm a week or so beforehand, although most of the large debris had been removed, with just one downed tree that we had to walk around/under. This also resulted in a large number of punctures, although I was lucky and escaped a fairy visit (Panaracer Pasela tyres).
The weather couldn’t have been much better; a few spots of rain but not enough to need a waterproof, and cold but just warm enough that there was no ice to worry about (only a small amount of residual snow on one of the off road sections which wasn’t slippery).
The trails might be around 25 – 30 % of the distance (educated guess) but it certainly felt like more than that, being much slower. Some really nice wooded sections which would probably be great at any time of the year, but I really enjoyed the wintery feel.
Info control
Another info control
Definitely possible to consume more calories than used on this ride; there were some very tempting morsels (and nice coffee) at the start, and one control was a chippy (although I opted to go elsewhere, I know I feel crap if I eat too much en route). Then at the finish there was amazingly a three course menu, which again I didn’t manage to sample all of, but the bits of Dean’s cooking and baking I had were splendid.
First audax in a long time. I thought it would be straightforward after my tour, with a longest day covering 70 km fully loaded. Well it wasn’t as easy as I thought, I am just not used to spending so many hours on the bike with limited breaks.
Slow, and the last 10 km or so were quite uncomfortable. Must get more practice in.
I’ve done this one before, it’s a nice autumn ride with some lumps but nothing silly. Going on the villages and big houses spotted there is some serious money around here.
A nice accessible start via a train to York, although I managed to get lost in an infinite housing estate in Haxby so started 15 mins late. However for the first time I managed not to get lost in York on the way back, even finding Kat’s house where I was treated to soup.
Well the logistics for this trip were quite something (mainly to do with Colonsay sailings); and then subject to last minute changes with ferries cancelled after COVID outbreaks. Amazing weather and multiple sea swims.
18/08/21 – Leeds to Lochranza
Train to Ardrossan for the ferry.
Arran and Ailsa Craig to the left
After arriving in Brodick I took The String road over the middle of the island, then followed the coast north to Lochranza, where I had camped many years ago with my sisters. This time we had the company of some deer, at which point someone (the campsite manager?) fired a shot into the air to scare them off – apparently they have been fed by some campers and as a consequence were coming too close to the tents. So having a stag startled by a gun shot running around a campsite is going to help?
The String
Lochranza campsite
Lochranza castle
50 km, 13.6 kph average
19/08/21 Lochranza – Port Charlotte
Ferry to the, er, shaft of Scotland and a trip across the girth, to the day’s second ferry to Islay.
Ferry ready to leave Lochranza
I’d like a more formal font on a lifeboat…
Leaving Arran
Crossing the shaft
BYO hot chocolate; no facilities at this ferry terminal (Kenncraig)
Islay (left) and Jura (right)
It was hard work, probably due to lack of fitness than anything else, but I eventually arrived at the excellent community pub/cafe/campsite/sports ground in Port Charlotte.
36 km, 15.8 kph average (my notebook says ‘hmm, felt like a bit more than that’; I assume I was referring to the distance)
20/08/21 Port Charlotte – Bowmore
On my way out from the campsite I stopped at the shop in Port Charlotte for some supplies, and the chap running it came out and said “it’s an unwritten rule that if anyone stops on an interesting looking bike I come out and take a look”. Well that’s a good rule in my book. He admired my mud flap, clocked the AUK badges on the panniers and we had a chat about the ride on Islay I remembered reading about in Ariveé.
Shop/PO/petrol station/audax conversation…
A mild, windy day but it was mostly helpful as from the SW. I rode a loop around Kilchoman and had a paddle in the sea at Machar Bay, which wasn’t too cold.
Stopped at the RSPB visitors centre at Gruinart – it was open but unstaffed and the toilets were closed. My biggest issue now was a water supply, I was hoping to have been able to find some here. Rode up the west side of Loch Gruinart, which became increasingly gravelly. I’m pretty sure there would have been a great wild camping spot further on, but it would have been a walk for a few miles with no sign of water, so I decided to backtrack and got to the shop in Bridgend, by which time it had started to rain properly. The old woman in front of me at the till had lost her specs, and asked if any had been handed in. The staff member in fact had two ownerless pairs, and held one up, asking if they were the ones, to which the woman responded “I don’t know, I cannae see”.
On to Bowmore where I had a wander around and found that the church had an outside tap. There is a swimming pool here which I though might be useful for shower purposes but still in COVID times the opening hours were quite limited. There’s a public toilet anyway in the centre.
Then cycled out to Gartrack, again a gravel road once past the tip. A house here looked uninhabited, and I pitched my tent just above a small rocky beach. Quite a wind and I’m glad of the tent modifications I had made (extra tie-out points for guy lines to keep the back fly away from the inner).
57 km, 14.8 kph average
21/08/21 Bowmore – Port Ellen
Took the main road from Bowmore to Port Ellen, which goes past the airport, then followed the three distilleries cyclepath to Ardbeg at the end. A taste of An Oa much appreciated as it was quite wet.
Port Ellen
Ardbeg distillery
#fontsmatter
Stop off at Kintra beach where there was a closed campsite and had a swim in the sea, place deserted (source of earwigs to be encountered later). Views of the posh island hotel across the links.
Beach at Kintra
Machrie Hotel
A hard and rough ride to the Mull of Oa, RSPB reserve and home of choughs, which I’ve never seen before. Also a memorial to Americans lost in two ship sinkings.
Feral goats
Mull of Oa
Back down to the Singing Sands just outside Port Ellen, for a wild camp on the dunes.
62 km, 13.8 kph average
22/08/21 Port Ellen – Port Charlotte
Breakfast on a picnic table in Port Ellen, then took the back road back to Bowmore, to find a load of classic cars posing in front of the distillery on a ‘Skyfall’ tour.
View back towards last nights camp
Stop off in Bruichladdich on the way back to the Port Charlotte campsite, to use the laundry facilities.
Bruichladdich harbour
The morning’s dampness had cleared to give great views across to the Oa and beyond (Ireland?).
39 km, 15.7 kph average
23/08/21 Portnahaven
Paid a visit to the Port Charlotte natural history centre, and then cycled a loop around to Portnahaven.
Old chapel near Kilchiaran
Portnahaven
Burials of various ages.
Nerabus burial ground (14th or 15th century)
Ancient burial ground of clan Donald (this one is 1839)
Wonder what Celene is doing here?
Neolithic cairn on campsite
Back to the campsite for another swim in my own little bay.
30 km, 13.6 kph average
24/08/21 Port Charlotte – Jura
Over to Jura today.
Craighouse
Passenger ferry to the mainland
A road, or I suppose The road
Nice paps
Went as far north as Lagg Bay, would have liked to have had more time and go as far as possible but the ferry to Colonsay determined timings.
Lagg Bay
Back south and a stop off at Lowlandman’s Bay, more gravel tracks and a lack of water.
Lowlandman’s Bay
Time correct
This house on the bay looked like it was being renovated but no one in sight
Only water source I could find
Down to Curran sands for another swim. Seemed warmer here and nothing but sand.
Camped in the field behind the beach, had to retreat into the tent as the midges were out in force.
77 km, 15.6 kph average
25/08/21 Jura – Colonsay
Midges were still around in the morning so as quick a pack up as possible.
Back to Feolin for the little ferry to Port Askaig. Stopped off at a church and the village hall to find water but without success, met a couple touring on Bromptons who were looking for the same thing. I would later bump into them a few times on Colonsay.
Port Askaig – Feolin ferry
There were lots of bikes heading to Colonsay.
Leaving Port Askaig
Scalasaig, Colonsay
Left the bike to walk up to the top of the hill above Scalasaig, Beinn nan Gudairean (136 m, I think the second highest peak on the island).
North Colonsay
Rode the long way (it’s all relative) via Kilchattan to Kiloran Bay, and had yet another swim.
Kiloran Bay
Headed further north to find somewhere to camp (no campsites on the island), the track was very sandy in places so hard work even pushing. Lots of cows grazing and I had to keep going to find somewhere to stop that was clear of possible bull disruption. Eventually stopped by a little bay, Port Skibinis. There was a standing stone on the nearby hill, and a fish made out of stones that I later learned is the Colonsay Whale (ok not a fish).
34 km, 12.1 kph average (lots of pushing)
26/08/21 Colonsay – Oban
Up as the sun rose and had my one and only trowel use of the trip. Retraced my steps (literally), and met a farmer and sheep dogs on a quad bike, I guess I must have slept in his farm’s field.
More pushing
Sorry bike
Road down into Scalasaig
Down to the south end of the island and a walk across The Strand at low tide to Oronsay. The sun was hot and I was flagging so didn’t get to explore properly; only on the return to Scalasaig and coffee, irn bru, soup and panini did I realise I had been running on empty.
Crossing to Oronsay
Track only accessible at low tide
The Brompton tourers I kept bumping into
Ferry back to Oban through some eerie mist.
Leaving Colonsay
Mull
26 km, 11.6 kph average
27 – 30/08/21 Oban – stop off at HQ – home
Had a day in Oban so rode up to the viewpoint at Pulpit Hill, and visited the town Museum, which is the classic volunteer run over-stuffed gem. Travelled to Lockerbie the next day and had a night with the parent before heading home.
Ferry to Castlebay on Barra. First couple of hours were nice; smooth and mostly sunny, through the gap between Mull and the mainland. Then it got choppy and wet, but outer islands visible. Lovely evening once on Barra, cycled down to Vatersay for a wild camp above the beach.
Oban and loading:
Ferry journey:
Barra and Vatersay:
02/09/19 Barra for an unplanned second night
Vatersay and Barra the next morning, when the weather started:
Memorial to those on a plane that crashed on Vatersay in 1944. Amazing that the bits of plane are still here.
A stop-off at the airport for a cafe visit, where the wifi informed me that the ferries to Eriskay were cancelled. Headed to a campsite a bit further north.
03/09/19 Catholics and Causeways
Ferries to Eriskay operational.
Crossing to South Uist.
A lot of catholic stuff.
Relentless wind and rain, nothing out there to the west to temper it. MOD area on the north west of South Uist, and the crossing over to Benbecula.
Over on North Uist there is nothing catholic whatsoever.
After a real slog through the wind and rain finally arrived at the campsite on the RSPB reserve at Balranald.
04/09/19 – Refuge from the storm
By some miracle my tent didn’t blow away in the night, but there was no way I was going to try cycling anywhere in the still gale-force winds. I splashed out on a happily available camping pod for the next night (well I got in there as soon as I could); I have never appreciated a roof over my head quite as much as this. The wind seemed to be considered severe by local standards, so I don’t think I was too much of a wimp. I wasn’t expecting electricity, a mini kitchen, or feathered friends, so these were luxury.
Impressed by the people (gravediggers?) working outside during it all.
05/09/19 (over the sea) to Skye
Feeling a bit weather-battered I thought my original plan to go on up to Lewis was a bit optimistic, so headed to Lochmaddy for the ferry to Skye (no ferries from Lewis connect with trains, I’d have to return to the mainland at Ullapool and then cycle some distance to pick up the train line).
Mailbox
Chambered cairn
Had a bit of time in Lochmaddy and had a look through the Runrig archive at the excellent local community centre/cafe/etc. Also home to the most friendly cat I have ever met.
On arrival in Uig it was dark and cold, but the petrol station shop had Cairn o’Mhor wine, so it wasn’t all bad.
06/09/19 Skye
Weather improved from today. Rode to Portree which was busy, seemed to be a music festival on. Sat in a bus shelter for quote a while and managed to get new train tickets home from Kyle of Lochalsh. The cheapest option turned out to be a seated ticket on the Sleeper from Inverness to Preston, which I was quite excited by.
Then on to Sligachan campsite for a couple of nights.
07/09/19 Skye
Sun today, and an unloaded ride up to Dunvegan and back, including a stop at a great coffee/book shop (at Struan I think).
The castle area/car park was really busy, but I wasn’t that interested so went a bit further up the road (the quality of which declines suddenly after the car park) to try and see the castle. Only afterwards did I learn that my friend’s Mother lives along this road. It (the castle) is quite hidden away and from the distance I was at, somewhat underwhelming.
Nice cloudless views over the Cullins on the out and back ride.
Bought this wool at a gallery/craft shop. Still (Dec 2021) haven’t done anything with it yet.
Dinner and lubrication in the Sligachan hotel this evening, both of which were excellent.
08/09/19 Skye to Kyle of Lochalsh
This was the only unpleasant cycling of the trip caused by other traffic, the road was busy and there were a lot of close passes. I think a lot of folk had come up for the weekend at the last minute for the nice weather. And were in a hurry to get home. There were a couple of young lads on what can only be optimistically described as motorbikes, who I was more of less keeping up with due to the number of stops they had to make.
Stopped at a nice cafe in Broadford, and then a bit of a mooch around in Kyleakin.
Spot the trig point – must be one of the lowest.
Then over the bridge, and a last few miles to a campsite.
09/09/19 Kyle of Lochalsh and the Sleeper home
A wet morning, and fortunately I arrived at the station in plenty of time as the bike reservation I had made by phone hadn’t gone through, which sounded like a fairly normal occurrence. Nice little museum there.
Someone put this unicorn sticker on my handlebars while I was enjoying a cooked breakfast in the dry. It’s still there (2021).
Had time to meet up with Kirsteen in Inverness, before getting the Sleeper to Preston, where I spent an uncomfortable couple of hours before an early train to Leeds.
Not abath, which would be much more appropriate, coated as I am in sweat, sun cream, oil, general road dirt and dead flies. I’m waiting for a train to return me to Taunton so I can cycle up a fuck-off hill (again), to spend a night in my tent before going home tomorrow without a wash or change of clothes (my own fault, I was being minimalist in terms of luggage. This is why we have a sleeping bag liner).
I’ve been pretty impressed by my body today. I had a ‘general discomfort’ moment but after a stop and some food it was fine. My legs could have finished the ride, they just kept going. But I haven’t slept for 36 hours, and while I haven’t been nodding off on the bike instead I’ve been mentally spaced out (had this on BGB), it gets scary and doesn’t feel safe. Perhaps coming to do this ride was a mistake, given the way I’ve been feeling recently and that I’m only a week into this lot of medication. But I thought I was being lazy thinking of not starting, that it would be good to do some hard-core exercise and be outside. And no matter how much I might hate it at the time, if I complete a ride the sense of achievement is inextinguishable.
Anyway I’m not supposed to be in Bath. I should be ‘next door’ in Bradford-upon-Avon getting a receipt and then setting off on the final stage of this ride, which is 100 km (longest stage on LEL was 97 km iirc and that was the first one when you have all the enthusiasm). I missed the Bradford turning but that only served to make my decision to DNF easier. I’ve done 300 km to here (still in time) but somehow it’s not much of an achievement when you’ve set out to do 400.
The morning after I have a couple of hours to kill in Taunton before my train home.
Clayhidon Church
View from the Half-Moon pub, Clayhidon
Hearing Sarah describe how she kept going to finish an hour over time put me to shame this morning. I thought yesterday that it had been a mistake to start, but now maybe just a mistake not to finish. Which is better I suppose. Ah well, hopefully I’ve burnt a few of the extra calories I’ve been eating recently, and maintained fitness for the 600 km I’m aiming for to get an SR this year. I should get myself an emergency bivvy bag so I can be more confident about just keeping going, knowing that I can stop as often as I need. This ride could be done as a perm starting wherever appropriate in the morning to align the timings with this one…stop it!
Last night on the ride up to Clayhidon I caught up with Hugo who was walking (I’d had 2 hours rest in Bath, food, and a nap on the train. I’m not sure I’d have made it without walking otherwise). He said he was broken and never doing it again. Now I think about it, I wasn’t thinking that when I was struggling; more sadness that once again I couldn’t keep myself awake enough to do it. But yeah, I will do ‘it’ again.
A couple of chaps came over to speak to Marcus, Sarah and me while we were packing up this morning, Rob and Sh?, who lived near Chippenham. They’d ostensibly come over to look at my tent and then Rob was asking about my bike. I’m never sure when folk are interested in it if that’s a good thing or not. My Cheviot seems to be a little alien for audax, which makes me want to keep it and do them all on it. Someone in the coffee shop I am currently twiddling my thumbs in has just been explaining to his companion that the bike he wants is described as a “cafe racer”, and now I’ve looked it up the term seems to refer to motorbikes, but I did think that an audax bike may be best described as a “24hr garage racer”.
Light at 9.50 pm
So after the 22:30 start, when it hadn’t finished getting dark, we had a quick control in Tiverton. Then it was a simple matter of riding up the Exe valley with the sky still not quite black (it never really was), some stars out including a big yellow/orange one near the horizon – a planet? The over-half moon was bright to the west and glistened off the river in places, which was pretty special.
We had a control in someone’s house at 1:45 am – it was the home of the organiser’s mother, with his wife and daughter helping out. I didn’t know that until later, at the time it was just surreal to be parking bikes on someone’s front lawn and sitting in their living room eating flapjacks in the middle of the night. Riding up out of Minehead, after a while I realised that the light in the sky was getting brighter and so must be the first signs of dawn rather than the last glow of the previous day. To my left I thought I could see mist in a valley bellow, but then realised that it could be the sea and the lights beyond it the coast of Wales (it was).
As dawn proper came, I was on flat deserted roads and surrounded by mist. Sun was up by the time I passed Glastonbury but it was still misty and I couldn’t see the Tor until some time later when I was higher up at the edge of the Mendips. There was an amazing moment around Glastonbury riding through the mist which was bright and hazy, and approaching a darker patch suddenly the sun disappeared and I realised it was the shadow of a hill that I couldn’t see at all before.
Chedzoy Church
King’s Sedgemoor Drain
I missed the Esso garage in Nunny Catch (wins place name of the ride) but felt audax-enough to stop at a shop in Frome for a receipt and knew that it would suffice. I’d been physically uncomfortable leading up to this stop (neck especially) and spent a while eating and having a rest off the bike. Fine after that although I could feel a bit of saddle rub and made sure to put some more conotrane on when facilities permitted.
The Bath-Bristol tunnels were fab – several of us seemed to really enjoy these although I find it hard to explain why, but I’m pleased that I wasn’t alone in my geekiness.
The Severn bridge was both a highlight and marked a turning point, although the cycle path was badly signed and we went around in a bit of a circle; funny to visit Wales for about 15 minutes then leave again. Just over the bridge Sarah and I got mixed into a group ride and one of the leaders said ‘let the audax riders through’ which pretty much made my day (also they pointed us in the direction of Tesco which probably saved a lot more faffing). I didn’t stay long as I’d had a quick petrol station stop about 20 km before and was feeling good, and decided to have a proper stop at Wooton-under-Edge. Although once I set off that didn’t last long and started to feel tired and spaced out again. Had a good hour in Wooton and ate too much.
Feeling woken and rested by the Wooton stop didn’t last long, it was only 38 km to Bradford but I had to stop in Chipping Soddbury for half an hour before I did something stupid. I still wasn’t nodding off but just felt really out of it, very distant from myself, although still going on autopilot and managing to pedal and change gear as normal. I think the heat was getting to me now as well, it was baking, the sky had been clear since the start of the ride. Enough brain remained to know I wasn’t safe on the road, especially as some of these were A and B roads. Even when I felt more awake later I was taking chances at junctions that I wouldn’t normally. I had half an hour lying on the grass in a park but didn’t really sleep much. Felt ok enough to continue for a while. Missed a turning for Bradford-upon-Avon where I’d pretty much decided to call it a day, I could have just followed a road sign further on to get there but the road I was on was familiar (the Exe – Buzzard went in the opposite direction) and I knew I could just stay on it to Bath. And then I could find the train station. I had to wait 2 hours for a train with a bike reservation, although top marks to the station staff (GWR?) for being able to book a space at very short notice. Then that ride out of Taunton again, up the never-ending hill, to the Half Moon pub.
As I am sitting writing this a bunch of Santas on motorbikes (and a few pillion elves) just rode through the middle of Taunton. In a heatwave in June. I’m pleased I can still tell the difference between sleep-deprived hallucinations and general human weirdness.
Before LEL I saw lots of folk singing the praises of having a bike fit, and wondered if I should have done that but figured (a) it was a bit late by then, (b) £, and (c) it sounds like it might be bollocks. Well LEL left me with Achillies pain (after a couple of weeks they were ok) and nerve damage in my hands (which took about 6 months to recover from). I’ve also never been quite comfortable with my saddle, feeling like it is the least worst that I’ve tried. So I decided I would have a bike fit before doing any more silly distances. This sort of co-incideded with my birthday, so I was able to put the parental cheque to a specific use. Of course as soon as I started looking all I could see were comments about bike fitting as being a waste of time. I’m sure there’s a word for that – seeing what you either want, or don’t want, to see, and not seeing the rest. Anyway if you think it’s bollocks and/or has been a waste of time, maybe you are lucky enough to be a shape that’s close to the ideal that bike manufacturers adhere to, or you are very experienced and know exactly what you need. I’m neither of those things.
After consultation with a local fellow LELer I booked myself in for a basic fit with Stephen Jarmuz at Yorkshire Bike Fitting. Stephen is very friendly and put me at ease straight away. He is interested in the type of riding that YOU are doing and wants to help you be comfortable doing that. He was entirely non-judgemental about my bike and myself.
My bike is a Hewitt (tourer) and I had a fit as part of buying it. It was my first drop bar bike so when it felt weird I chalked that up to unfamiliarity. Now I think that the fitting template that is used there was not right for me. I fitted a shorter stem myself fairly soon after I got the bike, because I felt too stretched out. Now, after my bike fit, I have an in-line seat post which unstretches me even more. I also have a new saddle to fit my sit bones and a changed cleat position. So far I’ve done 100 km, and a further 40 km with my new wheels. It really was like sitting in an old armchair…but one that encouraged me to get out of the saddle and honk up the hills.
(It doesn’t usually come with a spare wheel attached).
If certain residents of the Yorkshire village of Moss had reason to peer through their curtains shortly after 2.00 am on a Sunday morning in May, they would have seen four people sheltering from the rain at a bus stop, introducing themselves having already ridden together for several hours, eating, squeezing the water out of their gloves and weeing without bothering to find a bush to hide behind (not necessarily in that order).
I rode the first part alone, feeling as the rest of us did like a piece of fly paper as we ploughed through the clouds of greenfly. I’d sort of joined Eddie on the skirting of Hull, but we weren’t quite riding together as such, mostly because I don’t know how to technically, but also because I’m socially incompetent (sometimes that is an overwhelming anxiety but at the moment it’s just uncomfortable). He was a nice guy and I was touched that he remembered me from my aborted 600 km last year – I recognised him but couldn’t have placed him, but he’d seen me having a minor meltdown and migraine under a tree in Pocklington; I remember someone waving at me and I just shook my head. We ate together at Spurn Head but didn’t really chat, and I thought he’d already left but when I went to go he was still there, wrestling with leg warmers.
Mike was also preparing to leave and had parked his bike next to mine, and seemed keen to join us so we made a little trio without really trying to. We didn’t ride that close together and I think I went out a bit too far in front sometimes, but I was trying to stay with them but also go at my pace. They both had GPS although Mike’s only seemed to be useful for telling him when he’d sailed past a junction that Eddie and I had turned at (and not knowing someone’s name makes it harder to call after them); however I have my suspicions that this may have been if not operator-error then at least operator-can’t-be-arsed-to-pay-attention-when-they-can-just-follow-someone-else.
We stopped way too long at Leven petrol station, I was about ready to go when Mike Wiggly appeared; other Mike had been riding with him further back and decided we should wait and take him with us. They phoned wives and girlfriends to check in and report on progress. I didn’t. Mike W clumsily commented on my rainbow sew-on patch and I clumsily replied. I asked for two carrier bags with my smoothie/flapjack/eccles cake purchase, and they stayed on until I got back home.
Timing was good, better than last time no doubt due to the kind wind. I remember it being pitch black on arrival at McDonalds then, whereas today there was still some light in the sky. There was also water falling from it, which had been light enough that I hadn’t bothered with the waterproof but after this it would be needed for warmth too, plus that rain was setting in more permanently. Mike W decided to stay for another coffee so the remaining three of us reluctantly made a start on this long dark leg. Negotiating Goole we picked up Carl, who had been ahead, but lost confidence in his navigation, and turned back. It was good riding with others in the dark, the extra lights are helpful (although Mike’s strobe on the front was bit too disco for me). I liked the flat Kings Causeway section although I think some of the others found it mind-numbing. This ride has an almost constant stream of routesheet instructions, there are hardly any long uninterrupted stretches. Apart from a couple of junction confirmations with Eddie’s GPS, and one that I missed, I pretty much took the front and did the navigating. It reminded me a bit of LEL, and the night I rode silently with a group from all over the world, weaving across the road as they either nodded off, forgot which side to ride on, or possibly both.
Mike came off going over a railway line in Thorne which crossed the road at a stupid angle, so we all stoped and Mike W happened to catch us at the same time. He seemed ok but we made him stand still for a little while to make sure he wasn’t going to keel over. A car actually came by just behind us, as he was still lying on the road, and didn’t stop. Around here I started to wonder how safe this pastime of ours is…it was cold, wet, and dark. We were in a village and I dare say could have woken up a household if needed, but there was no sign of (awake) life and no shelter. I thought of the riders doing the Old 240 and where would they be at this time of night? I don’t know if I could do that ride, I wouldn’t feel safe.
Mike W shot off and the rest of us wound our way on, via that bus shelter in Moss. I’d stopped there last year too. I thought we’d been doing a reasonable 20 kph average on the flat but soon the hills started and we slowed right down. Unusually for me I felt I could have gone faster, and found myself slowing to let the others catch up. But I was glad of their company, not being scared of the shadows this time.
Eventually Woolley Edge services appeared. By accident rather than design we arrived at 3.50 am which was exactly on my approximate schedule, although again we stayed longer that I’d have liked. But now there was only 35 km to go, and the dawn to look forward to. Mike was nodding off but the rest of us seemed ok. We chatted about bikes and riding. It was Carl’s first 400 km. He said my navigation was excellent which I really appreciated. He and Eddie exchanged numbers on the basis of a potential bar-end shifter sale.
By the time we set off the sky was already lightening, and a rather nice morning was underway. Mike and Carl both knew their way round a slightly longer but flatter route via Brighouse, so Eddie and I followed them, Carl and I seeming similarly paced and the other two a little behind (a sort of taking-a-leak time delay which was convenient). I didn’t think we’d manage, but we got back just before 7 am. There had been a time when I thought 24 hours was possible, but the slow night leg and longer stops prevented that. But it was surprisingly nice to ride with others for once.
