23/10/16

This ride started near York, which had the simultaneous benefits of being able to get to by train on Sunday morning and not being ridiculously hilly.  A nice if chilly morning, and the city smelled of chocolate.  An easy ride from York station along Haxby Road to Wigginton Recreation Hall.  Lots of riders; I hung around outside checking out the bikes until the building shower became more like rain.  It had stopped by the time we started, and for the rest of the day we had a few more showers but always short and never enough to justify waterproofs.  As a bonus rainbows were visible at several points.

The event was ‘organised for North Yorkshire CTC by VC167’ whose members were conspicuous in their blue and yellow jerseys, as well as their large (to me) groups riding together.  Not being a club member I am not comfortable with group riding but unfortunately those who are tend to assume that everyone else is, and will happily surround the individual rider expecting you to understand their calls, and occasionally they will empty their noses when in close proximity.  Also I find that while such groups ride faster than me they also stop frequently, resulting in a tortoise/hare situation.  One person, dawdling at once such pause while I came by, exclaimed “a tourer!” as if I had shown up to a 100 km road ride on a downhill mountain bike.  I did enjoy riding up the hill on the straight (presumably Roman) road near Castle Howard using my triple, while others walked.

Enough grumbling.  I got talking to a guy on a Surly with what I think were On-One Mungo bars; he said they were always mocked by his club.  He was doing an ECE from Durham; much respect.

The first control was at Malton Morrisons where I felt surprisingly good and bought a pear and some cashew nuts.  Then west, north and west again to the second control at Ampleforth College.  I hadn’t looked this up so had no idea that there was an Abbey and Catholic boarding school here.  It was very peaceful, the sort of place you would normally take time over visiting, so it seemed a bit incongruent to have a bunch of sweaty cyclists descending and eating everything in sight.  The cafe, where stickers for brevet cards were obtained, was not only busy but had that smell of institutional catering that gives me the pure dry boak.  So I settled for an ice cream from the shop.

The next section was my favourite, heading just into the North York Moors National Park and through Wass, a section I recognised from an ODL youth hostel weekend.  Past Byland Abbey, and the route gives a view of the White Horse near Kilburn.  Too far away to be worth stopping for a photo, but I tried using the GoPro whilst rising to capture some fellow riders up ahead.

With about 10 km to go I had a bit of a bonk and ate my emergency naked bar, which did the trick.  I suspect I wouldn’t have needed it if I hadn’t had the ice cream sugar-injection at the last control.  The last stretch was a fast ride along a B road into Wigginton.  All day I had been passing and being passed by a guy on a Moulton (since revealed as ‘Dave’ on yacf) and a woman on something nice-but-unidentifiable which was orange with white sections and very audax-looking, and we arrived at pretty much the same time.  I was also happy to catch Surly-guy in the last km and finish together – although he quickly headed off (presumably a pootle back to Durham) whereas I sat around with tea and cake before slowly rolling back to York.

102 km, 6:06 hrs

09/10/16

First audax for a long time, so a 55 km seemed like a good place to start.  Although this also had 1.25 AAA points… Starting from Mytholmroyd at 10 am meant I could get the train and not be in a rush.  There was another guy on the train doing the 100 km Season of Mists, and since the train got in at about 9 am when that ride was due to start I think I’d do that in future, a few minutes late starting would be fairly insignificant.

The short ride to Hebden Bridge provides a brief warm-up before the hellish climb to Heptonstall.  I had managed to make it up there and over the first few metres of cobbles when a rider behind came off, so I stopped and gingerly started making my way back to check she was ok.  By the time I got there several others had arrived and she was fine, but I knew there was no way I could ride now, staring on cobbles with legs like jelly, and feeling a bit vomity.  So along with many others it was a walk over the cobbles until they finally became almost level.  At Slack we headed west towards Blackshaw Head and then followed The Long Causeway, a great route which runs along the south west side of Heptonstall and Worsthorne Moors.

Then a drop down to a control at JJ’s Diner on the Burnley Road.  The place was described as “a little Lancastrian”, but at times like this a bit of gruff efficiency can be just the job.

The middle section was, with some undulation, all ascent, and when looking at the route I’d thought it would be the worst part.  However shortly before arriving at the second control at Coldwell a view of Widdop appeared, and with it the realisation that yes, the route did go that way.  I’m glad that I didn’t speak to the rider who said “Widdop puts the fear of God into folk” until afterwards.  The control was pleasant with excellent cake, most of us sat outside in the sun being amused by the puppies that one of the organisers had with them.

After a short steep downhill section the ascent up towards Widdop reservoir began.  I’d already had a gear mis-change at the bottom and had to get off and spin the pedals by hand to make starting the hill, featuring cattle grid, possible.  I got as far as I could but when a car came down in the opposite direction I felt too wobbly and gave up, getting off to walk.  Happily I wasn’t alone, and chatted to a young woman whose riding companion was clearly simultaneously wanting to wait for her but also trying to keep pedalling. She said she normally did shorter rides but that her Dad up ahead (not partner, glad I hadn’t said anything embarrassing!) was a regular audaxer.  There was a rusted car in the valley which had presumably come off the road some time ago; only the L plate seemed to be surviving the elements.

When I finally got back on I caught up with some club-types who had managed to ride up and were having a breather.  One of them commented that I was “carrying a lot of weight”, referring to the bike rather than me, although I suspect reducing the latter would be more productive; all in all he came across as a bit of a prat.  After this is was mainly downhill, past Hardcastle Crags where we had a work trip, and rejoining the route out at Slack.

Back through Heptonstall over the cobbles, it was a rough ride with arm and leg muscles absorbing all the bumps and simultaneously having to grip the brakes.  I had been concerned about my left arm but in a wrist tubigrip it wasn’t anymore uncomfortable than my right by this point.  Mr Prat followed behind me over the cobbles and we rode back to Mytholmroyd pretty much together, at which point I thought my weighty bike can’t have been too bad.

Arriving back at the hall I checked in with organiser Chris Crossland who said he thought he’d recognised me from a previous event (Spring into the Dales) which impressed me.  As did the food on offer.  The trains back to Leeds were hourly and I left hurriedly to make the next one, although I would have quite happily sat around for a bit longer.  I was pleased to see the woman and her Dad I had spoken to earlier finishing just as I left.

55 km/34 miles, 1.25 AAA