We decided it might be an idea for me to try a ride starting in the evening and going on into the night. I've never really done that before, so it would be interesting to see what challenges it threw up in terms of logistics, admin and other things. The initial plan was to stay relatively local and do the Pure Peak Grit 600 route, just see how far I got, maybe sleep in a hotel and then continue on. Looking at the diary, though, it seemed like Im not really going to get a chance to do something like this where I can be very unsure of my timings... ie. This time I know I can be late and there isn't much that will be affected. All other times between now and the TPR are rather more time constrained.
So about 2 hours before I was due to leave, I picked another ride from my pile of "wouldn't it be silly to do this" rides and said: Yep. That'll do. A ride to Hexham, via Scarborough and then back home. 650k, and trusting the route pretty much entirely to a bike routing algorithm on Komoot.
I set off with full TPR gear, and not a little trepidation as dark clouds gathered overhead. It was still daylight, but there was the consistent threat of rain. The climb over to Stayley bridge was fine, but as I ended up getting over to Greenfield and over towards Marsden there was fog on the tops and precipitation in the air. The waterproof went on, and pretty much didn't come off until after the sun rose.
As it got darker I used the old Exposure Joystick that we have, adjusting the light for how much I needed to see. Sometimes there were street lights, but often enough, it was just pitch black. The routing got interesting as well... I was thinking it was going to go along minor roads and out to Scarborough that way, but no. I think I visited every housing estate around Huddersfield and went down some pretty dark alleys and around a greenway which, in the light, would have been probably quite pleasant. In the dark, I was very glad to have some big, bright lights.
Come 9:30pm I realised I had made a mistake by not stopping at a Lidl to replenish supplies, and it was by sheer chance that 5 mins later another Lidl that closed at 10pm appeared... a quick stop for more food and I was on my way. Unbeknownst to me, this was my biggest error of the night- not picking up more liquid. With only 2 bottles on my bike, one of them half empty, there wasn't going to be another shop on the route until just outside Scarborough... in about 7 hours time. Even if there WAS another shop on route, it would have been closed.
And so I rode through the night. At about 2am I changed the old Joystick for the new one. Food was eaten, as was caffiene chewing gum. Having realised that water was going to be the main issue, I made sure that I was being very circumspect about how much (or indeed little) I was drinking. Fantasies about people having hosepipes on the outside of their houses went through my head- indeed, if I was out on the hill, I'd probably have no problem finding water.... however, in suburban Britain, it's pretty much impossible to get any water in the middle of the night- never something I'd previously considered.
Onward through lots of small roads and tiny villages, and finally- FINALLY at about 5:30 I came across a service station just outside Scarborough. Water! Coffee! Sandwiches! For some reason the coffee vending machines only do long drinks- no espresso, so a Black americano it was, then. Service stations are the equivilent to Japanese Convenience stores. Open (nearly) all hours, and lots of choice of things that you really might need. (It occurred to me that getting replenished in Japan with its plethora of 24hour convenience stores would simply have not been a problem).
Having been suitably refreshed, I powered on to Scarborough, took a couple of pictures, and contemplated my thoughts in the middle of the night that I might just get here and then catch a train home... or turn around and cycle back, and then got on my bike and cycled north. Cinder track. It was far too early to stop for breakfast here- by any means, nothing in town was open.
Up the Cinder Track, past Ravenscar and Whitby and then inland into a headwind. Places I didn't know and hadn't heard of came and went. My snacks grew thin on the ground as I turned up a hill into Castleton. (no, not that one). It was 9:10am. I know this because the shop had opened at 9 and I was very very very happy it was open. They had freshly baked quiche (literally just out of the oven), coffee, excellent brownie and vast amounts of things you could buy by weight. I had a 1/4 pound of dates and they were eaten in very short order. What an amazing little shop. It's called Off the Scale. Go here if you can.
Onward and upward. Fatigue was beginning to creep in as I crept further north. My geography of this area isn't great. Middlesborough was somewhere on the way- but how far that is from Newcastle? I have no idea. Small roads and cycle ways made up most of the riding, with a couple of stretches of dual carriageway (yup... I know)... I remember being on a cycle track for absolutely AGES, just going north. It was as if time had stood still and pedalling was all that had ever existed. By about 350k my feet had started to hurt. Not really being able to move them much in shoes attached to pedals meant that presure spots were starting to appear- lack of sleep was a minor factor- but it was mostly me not really knowing where I was, just following a dot on a GPS unit.
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| Time warp cycle path |
Eventually I passed something I recognised- the Angel of the North. Well. That's a long way up. I must be near Gateshead. How far is that from Newcastle? Is it a long way?
No. Apparently not. It's literally across the river. Bang. You're in Newcastle- and Hexham is only about 16 miles away.
This bit I knew, Lynne and I did it (albeit in the opposite direction) earlier this year. Hexham is more than halfway there.... my previous longest ride had been 230km. As I came along this section I'd already passed 250, 300, 350 (and therefore 200 miles), and finally 400km... It was approaching 4pm, I'd been cycling since maybe just after 7pm yesterday. I wasn't hallucinating as such, but on the approach to Hexham I was noticing that everything had a kind of heat haze around it. It definitely was NOT hot enough to have a heat haze.
In my head, Hexham was kind of the prize. My willpower for the day stopped there. If necessary, perhaps I could have continued, but there was a hotel there. And a superstore. And a burger shop. I checked in, changed into what really can't be considered to be sartorially elegant clothes- but are light, and went in search of food. My idea was to sleep for a few hours, charge all my electronics and leave at first light- about 3 or 4am.
However- the bike was going to be locked in a room which wouldnt be open until the morning shift came in at about 7. I could have left it outside, I could have taken a chance- but as mentioned- there was nothing to get back for specifically, so the decision was made to have more of a rest and start as early as feasable- which ended up being about 7:30. Too early, unfortunately for the bakery to be open, but such is life.
Let no-one tell you England is flat. It is not. No, we don't have soaring alps. No, those massive long pases are few and far between. The hills we DO have, however, are short, steep and brutal. People expect there to be signs when there is a gradient of over 10%. Let me tell you- there are a myriad of slopes between here and Hexham that have gradients of up to 25% that simply don't have signs. They are just "normal" for round here.
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| Totally forgot- there was a fun re-route around Edmund Byers as well |
The main self-conversation of the day was "oh look. Another hill". In true "leave it to komoot algorithm" style, the route went on road, big roads, little roads, through fields, tracks which were more like mountain bike tracks, easy bridleways and everything else between. The worst of it was at the beginning of the day, so I ended up fighting to get my average speed back up to above 20kmph for the rest of the day. (managed it).
The most surreal part of the day was battling through rush hour traffic in Bradford, trying to work out what was and what wasn't bike lane, whether I was meant to be on the kerb, or if I was allowed on the kerb, which lights were for me- racing cars downhill etc. to suddenly be swooshed left onto a completely seperate bike track, almost totally overgrown and with nothing else around me... quiet. What a huge contrast!
I kept scanning the horizon for things I recognised, but it wasn't until I was past the Huddersfield loop (in reverse, and indeed, in the light, in comparison to yesterday) that Holme moss finally popped into view. I was joined by another cyclist, commuting his way home from Huddersfield- so I felt obliged to hammer it as hard as I could to either lose him, or give him a decent tow, which he was very appreciateive of as he left me at Honley.
Ah- Honley! I KNOW where I am! A short skip to Holmefirth, up the hill and over to Winscar where I ate the last of my Tangfastics, and a final burst home down the trail.
250k and 4000m ascent. If it wasn't for yesterday, that would have been my longest day in the saddle ever. As it is, that's a monster couple of rides, back to back. It would have been better if the bike had been free to go at any time in the morning, but I figured security over early start was best.
Am I ready for the TPR? I have no idea- but at least this is another step on the training way forward.
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