Tan Hill 200 Audax

 Audaxing. A quintessentially English undertaking? Not exactly, as the origins are very much European- Audax UK have a very interesting page on the history of audax. However, there seems to be something very British about turning up to a community centre in a random town with 25 other enthusiastic individuals from all walks of life, all with at least one thing in common. A bike. 

You pay a bloke 6 quid or so, get a brevet card and have a cup of coffee, or a small breakfast- muesli, bread/toast etc. are laid on. At about 8:30, someone says "go" to the people gathered at the door of the community centre, and the people in the carpark realise the event is on as those who were in the apparent right place sail past shouting "we're off"! 

You then spend the better part of the day cycling 200km via a small number of places/ coffee shops etc. that can provide either a stamp or a till receipt to prove you've been there at a certain time- and get back to the community centre in dribs and drabs, get a cuppa, and maybe some soup or baked beans as a reward for your effort before heading back home. 

No fanfare. No numbers. No inflatable arches to ride through. Just a small, quiet group of people dedicated to long days out and absurd distances covered on two-wheels. 

It's brilliant. 

This is my first Audax and it wasn't an easy one. At 200k it is one of the shorter ones (apparently there was a serious discussion at one point as to whether 100 and 200k audaxes should have a different name- as they weren't *really* long enough to be considered hard enough to be a proper audax). However, with 4000m of ascent, this promised to be an interesting day out. Starting in Burnley, it wove North over a series of lumps to Tan Hill pub, and then back down through Kettlewell etc. back to Burnley. The climb was very front loaded, with the final BIG climb being out of Hawes on the way home. There was, though a serious SW wind blowing, which although potentially helpful to begin with, might cause some fun as a headwind on the way back. 

Dan suggested the idea of doing this one, and so I stuck my toe in the Audax pond. We headed up early doors on Sunday, registered and stood around watching the others ready their bikes as well. As mentioned, people seemed to come from all walks of life, and had differing levels of seriousness about how much food/water/luggage they might be needing over the next few hours. I went for a LOT of food, figuring that it would be better to be overladen with fuel than not. 

Dan and I- ready for the off.

At 8:30... well, 8:29- we were standing in the carpark with about 7/8 of the field as the other 1/8 sailed past shouting "well, come on then!"- and it was a scramble onto the bikes, make sure you have your sunglasses, and head out onto the roads. 

I recognised a fair few of the roads as we rode out through Sabden and over Nick o Pendle and out into the Trough of Bowland- having done a fair bit of hill climbing on the 100 climbs Sportive a couple of years ago. The first 30k flew past as I was trying to get used to riding in a group. Generally I'm on my own and getting used to seeing hand signals for things- and repeating them in good time for the benefit of those behind me- doesn't come naturally. 

The first brevet stop at Slaidburne was a fairly slow affair, as a few bikers who had overtaken us a short time prior had set about ordering a fairly long and convoluted breakfast. As we were amongst the first people there, the brevet stamp hadn't been located, and we spent a lot longer than was strictly necessary waiting for a stamp in our cards. (one person just couldn't be arsed and just set off without the stamp. It being my first audax, I wanted to do it kind of right). 

Dan and I set off onward north, and over the next few hills. Luckily the South Westerly wind was generally a kind assistance up the hills. Down into Bentham, and then back up and over into Ingleton- about 50k in with the potential for a coffee stop. I felt pretty decent at that point, knowing that the next place to stop would be Hawes which has a plethora of places to stop for refreshment, and so we pressed on. Not only does Hawes have a decent amount of shops, but it also had the benefit of being just before the last 2 big hills before Tan Hill- the mid point of the ride, so a short stop there would probably be useful. 

You've gotta stop at Ribblehead viaduct for a piccie- right?

 

As it was, on the way up to Ribblehead viaduct on the B6255, my drive chain started squeaking like there was a canary in it. The rainshower that we had endured on the climb prior to Bentham had evidently washed off all the Dry Lube that had be put on it recently. It only got worse as I approached Hawes and I had visions of knocking on doors of likely looking houses, or campervans with bike on them to ask if I might borrow some chain oil. After coasting down into Hawes, I hurridly googled "Bike shop Near Me", and lo and behold, the rather fantastic Stage 1 cycles was not only there, but was OPEN on a sunday morning. I'm unsure if he would have just given me a squirt of random chain oil, but figured as it was so useful that he was there and open, I'd spend some cash, and got a new tube of All weather chain lube. Oh- the happiness of a drive chain that doesn't sound like it's going to fall apart on you! Wonderful!

Hallelujah! Chain lube!

By the time I'd sorted out the bike, Dan had got into Hawes and had a brew, so we set off towards Tan hill together- up over Buttertubs, which isn't all that bad from the South, and then the insane 25% switchbacks on the road up to Tan Hill pub. I was within sight of the pub as the first couple of riders were on their way back down, and as I got there, there was obviously something of a lunch rush. A huge queue of people for the bar- nearly out of the door... ah well, nothing to do but to wait. So I patiently waited in line, bought a coke, and by the time I'd finished, Dan was arriving, along with a cloud burst. I grabbed my coat, and my sandwiches and we stood in the porch of the pub recovering, watching the rain thrash across the countryside and refuelling.

I woz there- yes I woz.

 

I can't say that the weather got any better as we stood there. At times it got worse and I was having concerns that I didn't have enough kit- especially gloves. It's August, I'm wearing 3 layers and wishing I had more! Eventually after a much longer time than I should have waited, we head off down the hill into the wind and rain. Waterproof on, hood up, buff on- 2 more significant climbs to go before the long, undulations of the ride home- all into a headwind. 

It wasn't raining before Dan turned up.

We passed the majority of the rest of the field as we came down into Keld, and then faced the rather steeper side of Buttertubs. In all honesty, it wasn't as bad as expected, though the headwind was still there. Down into Hawes, and considering the next ascent was going to take sometime, I kept the waterproof on. We were going back up high, and the chance of a shower was considerable. By this time I'd lost Dan, so I just started up Fleetwith Moss and chugged my way up it. Into a headwind. 

It's horrible. I mean, the last time I did it, I was bikepacking and it was at the beginning of my final day and it was horrible then. At 120k in, it's really really horrible. Unforgiving and brutal. There were times when I was sure I might have to get off- but it never came to that. Nonetheless, the climb was very very slow, and the main thought was "this is the last big one". 

Finally over the top, I thought I took sight of a Short Eared Owl across the fields just before the descent started- the long descent into (eventually) Kettlewell. Somewhat ironically I was held up by an Audi for the vast majority of the descent, but at least I didn't try shouting/beeping/close passing at any point. As it was downhill all the way into Wharfedale, the speed was fairly decent (Audis not withstanding), and the average speed stayed pretty high. At Kettlewell I made a short stop to fill up waterbottles at a pub and bought a coke, took off my waterproof, and started out just as another audaxer came past. 

We shared the load of headwind for a while, until she fell behind on one of the longer climbs. It was not all that far to Gargrave now, and I wended my way on for a while, until from behind came a pair of audaxers who I assumed were way, way ahead of me- having left Tan Hill about 20 mins before me. It turns out they had stopped elsewhere as well, and so we made good time as a triple over toward Gargrave, arriving in the village about 2 mins after the teashop closed- so we would have to get a receipt from Co-op as proof we had been there instead. 

From Gargrave, only 35k remained and I was feeling pretty good. Well- not half dead. We continued on as a three over a variety of undulations and along b-roads. My legs kind of gave out on the hill out of Barnoldswick, but they were gents and waited for me. 

On the run back into Burnley we picked up a fellow audaxer who had been on their own for 50k or so, and we belted along the A-road as a 4, and dropped into Burnley soon afterward, finishing up and around a variety of corners to finish in about 9 and a half hours. 

The rig at the end.

There were tins of beans and spaghetti hoops and soup ready for those who wanted them- I just sat down with the small remainder of the food that I'd taken with me, and a very well earned cup of tea. Dan came in about 30 mins later and we spent time sitting there looking shellshocked before getting up, getting changed and heading off home. 

What a day. Thanks so much to Andy for organising such a great day. (apparently he is a serial organiser of this kind of thing)- and I trust that the other 25 or so riders got home in a decent enough time to allow him to get home for a realistic time. 

First Audax- yes. But probably not the last.

Tadpole round 2023 - 50b450

 Here we are in August and only a couple of weeks before the time limit of Lynnes 50b450. Last year, one of the things she wrote on the list was "Tadpole round"- which is a short swim/run course in the Lake district. Short, it may be, but it is pretty daunting if it is something you haven't done before. It is even more daunting if you're going to be doing it breaststroke, not freestyle. There is a 450m leg and a 400m leg in consecutive bodies of water- and if you do it fast, you don't have to worry about it too much, but there is only so much speed that you can do doing breaststroke. 

The idea was not to go breaking any records, the idea was to get around in one piece. This has been put off for a good few months as the water would have been a fair bit chillier a few months ago. Maybe June would have been a good time, but there was *quite* a bit going on in June. (the 15 trigs was certainly big on the mind at that time). July was a washout, and so here we are with not a lot of time left. 

The forecast looked pretty good on the Friday, though there was a freshening wind from the North West. Crummock has its longest fetch from the NW, so any strong wind is going to create some interesting "washing machine" like conditions. Not really what Lynne wanted. However, the forecast for the morning looked pretty good. Generally calm, no rain, and not cold. Perfect. 

So up at 4 (why is it that everything I've been involved in for these challenges has involved being up/awake at 4am?!) and off up to the Lakes. A decent drive got us there for just about 7:30am. Although techincally you're meant to start the challenge from the shores of Crummock water and swim first, we parked in the main carpark in Buttermere and started there. A quick change and check we had all the stuff, and off we went. It was a little chilly to begin with- it being still pretty early, but we warmed up a little on the first climb up and over the hill (looking up to Whiteless Pike in the distance) and down towards Crummock water. There was a slight North Westerly, but nothing that was causing too much more than ripples on the water. 

A slight nav error on my part (on the official map, the start/finish has a red triangle on it... so there was me looking for a YHA... ) anyhow- we worked out that there wasn't going to be one, and went back the 300 metres back to where you get in at Crummock, and got fully changed into wetsuits. No, this was not going to be a record setting journey. (If I'd have thought about it, I'd have brought a flask of coffee as well!). 

The swim across Crummock water was at a leisurely pace- but was quite a challenge for us. Keeping pace was ok, but when you aren't swim-fit, and doing a stroke that is different to normal, 20 mins in open water with a towfloat is still quite a long time. Sighting was very easy, not doing freestyle, but in the middle of the water there was a bit of chop which didn't make our lives any easier. 

However, after what seemed a very long time, we were within touching distance of the other side, and I forged on ahead to take some photos of Lynne getting out of the water. Once there, a full change again, and then off we went down the western side of Crummock. The going isn't particularly nice underfoot to begin with. You can walk it, but if you're running it and not in "fell mode" then it's quite possible to put your foot wrong fairly easily. Once down towards Buttermere the trail becomes a lot easier, and the surface becomes very trail like, speeding you on your way. 

The get in point on Buttermere is a fair way down to the south, nearly at the other end, actually, and we shared the changing point with a few sheep. 

Putting on a wet wetsuit is not particularly fun, but it is more fun than attempting to swim 400metres in just a swimsuit. It took rather longer to put it on here than at the shore of Crummock, but eventually I was ready. The sighting across Buttermere is better than on Crummock water, mainly because it doesn't look as far or as daunting. I'm sure the fast people do the crossing in just a few minutes, but again, going slow, doing breaststroke, you're in the water for a lot longer- which means colder limbs, and more fatigue as you go on. 

Still, the sun was out, it was a beauiful day, and we could see the other side slowly getting larger as we swam towards it. The perspective on this side is also better, because as you swim, you can see the house on the side slowly disappear into the trees as you get closer, giving a real sense that you ARE indeed getting there. 

We changed on the field just out of the water, and set off on the final leg of the run, heading North on the eastern edge of Buttermere. We came back to the car at just a whisker under 3 hours, a lovely morning out, a decent amount of exercise done, another thing crossed off Lynnes list, and ready for a pie in the farm shop. 

What a lovely day out.

Cracken Edge Fell Race 2023

 Two races in as many weeks? Goodness, you'd almost think I was getting to enjoy them again. No, I can assure, I am not getting addicted, and there will not be a proliferation of race related blogs. The Cracken Edge Race is an important fixture in the calendar as it is run by Kinder Mountain Rescue- and there is the honour of the Buzz Lightyear trophy at stake. The fastest Mountain rescue team (or at least, their first 3 runners) gets the trophy. Unfortunately I was injured last year (calf strain/tear from over enthusiasm and "training error"), but others from Glossop MRT were there to fill in the gaps. 

This year Glossop MRT managed to field 10 runners (it would have been 11 had covid not reared it's ugly head again), which I think is a record turnout for us... indeed for any Mountain Rescue Team. Also included in that we had 3 ladies, which would have made a womens team as well, which was absolutely amazing. 

The route was the same as ever- very runnable (and I tried to make sure I ran as much of it as possible this time around), but very wet underfoot. It has been raining a lot recently- and it was raining right up until we set off as well. Although the kit requirements were "take what you think is appropriate"- which a lot of people took to mean "no kit", I took a waterproof and a bumbag to put it in- partially as this wasn't going to be an absolute eyeballs out effort, and partially because I would probably want a coat at the end when hanging around. 

Knowing that my preparation for this race has not been optimal, mixing it with the fast lads at the front was not going to be an option. Ok- it was an option- but not an intelligent one. I can hold my own over a few hours, but on a short and fast course, no chance- so I started somewhat further back in the field. The initial uphill is always a killer, and quite a sorter, and going off full beans here would have certainly taken a lot more out of me than I'd have liked. 

Off we went, and I slowly picked my way through the field on the way up, passing Chris J, and eventually catching Paul Skuse on the road up to the mast. First climb out of the way, and the pace settled a little. Going much faster was not really possible, and looking at my HR after the race, it does seem like I don't really have that ability to push into that extra gear/speed without massively overdoing the exertion. So I pootled along at somewhere around 150-160bpm with other people around me sounding like they were dying- but not really able to push on much faster. 

For the first time in a few years I got to the stile and had to queue before getting over, which was a novelty- getting my breath back mid-race, and I made good on the road, passing Saul on the way to the next climb- which was very sogggy underfoot. On the way up here I started leapfrogging with a couple of Macc Harriers which would continue right to the very end. I never looked behind me, so couldn't tell you how close anyone else was. 

Along from New Allotments down to the road was fairly swift, and on the road we caught and passed a guy in Hokas. I managed to lead the way down to the stile, but was quite quickly caught and passed on the ascent up to the quarry, not only by the battling Macc Harriers, but also by the guy in Hoka's who was climbing like a demon. I managed to run the entire race up to the final 10 metre section to Big Stone (not sure if this did me any good at all, seeing as the others around me were switching between walking and running on the ascent- but it did my ego good), and I continued onward in the midst of the Macc guys, who overtook me on the flattish sections from New Allotments (in the other direction) out to the final(ish) descent. 

Still not really able to raise my heartrate all that much without blowing, I continued at my own pace, wondering why it wasn't raining and if it would have been better to leave my bumbag at the start, I came to the long downhill towards Phoside. Initially it is long and groovy, and pretty easy to run. Would I have gained much more distance in the past when I was better at descending? No idea really- but it seemed like I wasn't gaining much. Then the track peels right and becomes more technical, where I definitely gained some time, then it peels right again and goes down into the woods and is a lot muddier and slippier- first overtake on the way down to the single track between the gates- and now there is less than a kilometre to the end. 

The first Macc guy is behind me, and I don't think he'll really trouble me again- but the other one, and the Hoka guy are in front. I just need to keep in touch in the last couple of fields as the final dash down the field to the end is genuinely my favourite part of any race, anywhere. They pull out a couple of metres on me, but stumble through the last stile/gate which enables me to get to a decent distance to them- we round the final flags and hit the descent to the finish- there is a clear, trodden track with long swishy grass everywhere else, so I take that and let loose, instantly overtaking the other 2 and leaving them for (somewhat damp) dust. 

Maybe I was in the top 20? I don't really know, and won't until the results are out. However, the jacket that I packed and carried all the way around came in very useful as I wandered back up the course taking photos of the rest of the team as they passed me on the way to the finish, and encouraged everyone else in the race. 

We did indeed retain the Buzzlightyear trophy, and good fun was had by all- I have to put out a special mention to all those in Glossop MRT who would not, under normal circumstances have entertained the idea of running around Cracken Edge of an evening. Well done- damn fine effort.