Hodgeson Brothers Mountain Relay- Leg 4 2021

It has certainly been a long time since I actually ran a race, and this one certainly counts. My recollection might not be the best, simply because it was a couple of weeks ago and there simply hasn't been time for me to write stuff down, (I don't have much time here today either, but here goes anyway).

Leg 4- as, it seems, is always the case for me. Never ran any of the other legs, but to be honest, I love this leg anyway, so don't really mind. The main problem is knowing when you're going to be needed for the leg and being in the right place at the right time. Somewhat geekily I have a spreadsheet with the times of previous relays detailing who ran and the times it took, in order to get a handle as to how long each leg might take, and when we might be expected to need to be at Sykeside campsite for the handover. 

The worst case scenario would be not being there when our guys came in- a bit of an embarrasing predicament to be in- so we generally tend to go on the cautious side of when to be there. 

Based on our estimations we probably wouldn't need to be at Sykeside until about 12:45 or so, so Chris and I saw off the guys on Leg 1 and then wandered off to the Pavillion to grab a cup of tea. Most importantly, we also bought some cake. The biggest mistake of the last relays we went to was seeing all the cake at the beginning and thinking "yep.... looking foward to that" and then coming in at the end of the last leg, and being faced with the dregs of the table rather than the riches we'd seen at the beginning... (word to the wise there...). 

The weather was pretty crappy, so we sat around outside the pavillion under the shelter, chatting with Judith J and passing the time of day... oooh! the Paris-Roubaix had started, and Chris has some decent signal- so we scurried across to the car inbetween showers and settled in to watch an hour or so of cyclists getting ever more mud splattered and exhausted. The rain came and went. And came and went. etc. Rainbows, blue sky and squalls were obviously the mark of the day. 

Eventually it got to midday and we had a bit of lunch, got changed and started a warm up plod over to the Campsite. It's about 4-5km away, so a nice easy half hour or so trot. Don't want to get there too early because otherwise you're standing around in the cold for an age. There isn't a whole lot of mobile signal around this area (unless your name is Chris, it seems) so getting updates as to how fast your team is going is very hit and miss. The original team was somewhat kyboshed by various impressive injuries, so we weren't expecting to be somewhere up in the placings today- it was just going to be a good day out in the hills for everyone- and a re-introduction to the racing scene. 

On the jog over to the campsite there was a steady stream of the fast ladies and lads from the teams who had already completed their Leg3 and sent Leg4 on their way. Chris commented that there were no other people running the same direction as us, but hey, that wasn't a problem. 

Got to the Campsite/transition at about 1240 and had a chat with the Ladies from thr Mixed Pennine team who had just finished 3- (I think the team went on to win the Mixed prize) and then stood around, chewing the fat and waiting. John Pollard, the Glossopdale taxi driver (as it were) turned up to tell us when Immy and Mark had left on Leg 3, which gave us some idea of how long we had to wait, and Wioleta also came along, having done her stuff on Leg 1. 

We stood and waited, watching team after team come in and transition (mostly relatively seamlessly...) and at 1305 the call came- "5 minutes to the mass start!". Crikey. I've never been in a mass start before. That could be interesting... and a couple of short minutes later a pair of familiar figures came bombing down the track...  1208! "oooh - that's pretty close to the mass start" said one of the officials.... "We've got 2 damn minutes" was the reply. 

Enough time to do a rendition of "Im a little teapot" .. "Oh no- Im a sugar bowl..."

Transition!

Off we go. I know Chris is fitter than me at the moment (ok, not just at the moment... period), so today was mostly going to be an exercise in telling him to slow down on the ups and try to make him hurt on the downs. Pass the dibber to him and we hare off down the track toward Checkpoint 1- just by the bridge. We can already see a team ahead of us. Dib at the bridge and then the slog up begins. Up through the ferns and mud, taking great gasps of air as we attempt to warm our systems up. The rain seems to have stopped for the time being and neither of us are wearing waterproofs. First team gets overtaken just at the next bridge and we break into a run up the path... 3 more teams ahead of us on the path are just in sight- so something to aim for. 

Previously we chatted about the route up to checkpoint 2- Hart Crag- shall we do the same as ever and go up the path before hanging right after the steps, or shall we go right early and try the offroad path? The answer was stick with what we know. I got overtaken on the steps by Tom Brunt one year. If it's good enough for him, it's good enough for me. 

As we head towards the steps about 4 or 5 teams can be seen on the offroad version over to our right, but we stick to what we know, up and up. The rain comes in- hard. Neither of us bothers to put on a jacket- it'll be past in a few minutes and we're not intending to be out for too long. The 3 teams on the path are picked off one by one- the final pair right at the top, just before it flattens out momentarily. Yes- over to the right we can still see a number of teams making their way up the hillside. We can see the summit, and so now hang a right and drop from the path. 

I'd love to say that "in short order we were at the top of the hill", but seem to recall that it was a bit more of a struggle than that... however, we'd certainly made up some decent time thus far. Chris dibbed at the top and I set off across the slippy stones trying not to do any damage to myself. We slightly cocked up the route to the descent, losing maybe half a minute or so, but were swiftly on the right path, and down into the col before the next ascent, another few teams ahead of us. 

Chris led the ascent up and over to Fairfield with me dragging along behind- not really able to tell him to slow down through my ragged gasps, but somehow I managed to stay in touch. We took a slight detour round a lump which I had never done before, no idea if it saved any time whatsoever, then across to the descent off Fairfield to Cofa Pike- my favourite part of the whole route. 

Yes, there are a number of teams who drop right down below the pike and along under the scree, but a) I dont know that route and b) the bit over Cofa is downright fun. 

A blat down the scree before the Pike took another 2 teams, and then another just as we hit the scrambly bit. This is the only part where I know I can happily go as hard as I like and Chris will just about manage to keep in touch with me (I suffer for the other 90% of the route) and so jsut enjoy myself for the rocky scrambling over the Pike. On the downhill I manage to stuff a gel down my neck in anticipation of the ascent to St, Sunday and the inevitable suffering that Chris is going to rain down on me. 

Another couple of pairs are passed, and we head up St. Sunday. Chris jogging easily. Me... really not. Not my finest time up that particular hill- having to walk much more than in previous years, but we topped out eventually- knowing there was yet another team who had done so just a bit before us- the chance to get a final extra place on the way down, perhaps?

From the Checkpoint we aimed slightly right, down across some boulders and grass and hit the trod- yes, a team below us- so we opened up and gleefully descended down the hill- it's pretty much downhill all the way from here. Down and down to a slight col before the traverse around Birks. We caught up and overtook that team just before the col, and continued on... goodness... ANOTHER team ahead of us in the distance... Chris say YES- we'll get them, I'm thinking well, we're a bit close to the end now, I'm not totally sure- we might be in a sprint out at the end... but we give chase. 

End

Overtaking Chris on the descent we come down into sight of the final checkpoint on Thornhow End, and the Cricket ground below. The team in front have just dibbed but don't seem confident of the right way down. Brilliant. We scream off the side of the hill, through the gate and Chris dibs as I skirt round the side and down the descent. We overtake on the steepest part just as the horrendously slippy steps appear. 

Fast feet down the steps .. there are a lot more than you think they are. A slight pause for Chris who got caugt up between the other pair, and we clatter off down the hill. Remember which side each of the gates open, so you don't waste time looking for a latch at the hinge end, and onto the road for the final section. Although it's downhill- which I love, it's road and non-technical and Chris stretches out ahead. Trying to keep up, I know we're within 400 metres of the end, and I'm very much in danger of being sick... just hold on til the end. Round a couple of corners and a final sprint in to the end.

Done. 

1:20ish. Not the fastest we've ever done (and I know Chris could have gone faster), but we started in 57th place and ended in 40th. Pretty happy with that. 

(Granddayout Photography have got some excellent pics of Leg 4- Chris and I are on page 26 - https://www.granddayoutphotography.co.uk/portfolio524456p26.html )

And now I need to get on with a dissertation.

Dirty Reiver 2020/2021

 This was a long time in coming. I originally entered this for the 2020 edition, which inevitably got cancelled/ re-arranged. I held on for the first rearrangement last October, then decided to get my money back for the second re-arrangement for this Spring, and then entered again for the 4th attempt of running it in September 2021. 

To say that I'm not in quite as good shape as I was back for the 2019 edition is a slight understatement. Perhaps the reason for this was that back then, I'd never ridden 200km, let alone off road. To say it was a little daunting would be a  complete understatement. Cue an entire winter of hard turbo training and a good couple of months getting used to my new Fairlight secan- off road in some pretty brutal conditions. 

This time I just entered and pretty much kind of hoped that residual fitness and bloody mindedness would propel me around. 

What I hadn't quite put into the calculation was an all out running timetrial/ race on the Thursday before the event which acted a quite a nice "leg softener" for the main event. 

Heading up to Kielder on the Friday afternoon, the most accurate weather forecase was that of some rain- maybe not too much... but then again, maybe quite a bit. There was certainly a fair amount of interpretation to be done in terms of clothing choices. It was certain that I was going to be camping out- whether it was in a tent or in a van was yet to be seen. Somewhat naiively I assumed that the carparks - in which you can normally park for £10 a night would be open and ready for business- that's what the blurb seemed to say. On arrival, this was not really the case, and the main carpark where I had intended to camp up on, was closed (and empty). Minor issue. 

However, there was the overflow camping- essentially a field, about 300m away from the main event centre, for £15 for the whole weekend. Well ok then- down I trotted and pitched up on a field with a mass of other campervans and tents. All fine. The "gravel expo" was at the event centre where registration was, so I wandered around and looked at bits and bobs. This year, it seems, the whole thing was sponsored by the dealer Madison, so it was pretty much all their gear that was on display there- Lazer, Genesis, Look, etc etc. Last time I was here it was a Salsa dominated event, but there wasn't a peep of them this year. Full gravel expo? Maybe not- but a marketing opportunity for someone sponsoring the event- yes. 

Home sweet home

I'd been having a minor issue with my chain sprockets on my wheels, and there was a Shimano service centre there. As far as I could tell, it needed a half width spacer just to take up some of the slack- never been able to actually get hold of one though. So I took it along to the guys- who seemed to be running some kind of double act. Effectively I didn't need to be told what *else* was wrong with the bike- just fix the bit I'm pointing at please. Happily, all it needed was a half width spacer - which was applied, and then there were comments like "I dunno what you're doing running brakes outside gears, and what's with the non-standard jockey wheels... has this crank never fallen off? There's normally a sticker here telling you what to tighten it up to.... peel it off did you?" To which the retort was "I ride my bloody bike, I don't hang it on a wall". Anyhow, we all got away from the interaction unscathed, and my cassette no longer rattles....

After a decent meal (noodles and bits of chicken) I turned in, realising that a 6am alarm call would be necessary for a 745 start time. What with the clouds of midges, I was perfectly happy to be snuggled away in the tent. 

Saturday morning dawned with a small amount of rain, a queue for the toilets and breakfast- parts1, 2 and 3. Had a sneaky chat with one of the guys on the stands who had stayed somewhere with mobile signal for the latest forecast- which was 16-18 all day, low chance of rain. Brilliant. So the lightest weight waterproof I had, and a gilet for most of the day. Perfect. 

Out and up to the start for 735, loaded the route onto the wahoo, and it was pretty much, right, off you go!

Midge fest

The timing chips started about 2 miles in as we came off the road and onto the dirt, and I tried very hard not to go too fast. Of course when there are hundred of people around you, you tend to get a bit caught up in things, and fairly often, without realising it, my heart rate was climbing to beyond acceptable levels. The first few miles always seems to bring on an inordinate number of punctures, and I was very careful not to snigger at those unfortunately enough to be stricken on the side of the trail, desperately trying to fix a tyre as hundreds of riders passed them by, and thousands of midges attacked them. 

The first 30km was fairly uneventful, apart from a realisation that my legs were really quite tired. This was looking to be quite a long day out, especially considering that we were barely more than an eighth of the way in. Nevermind, I had PLENTY of food, so as long as I took my time, it was all (probably) going to be ok. 

Round and out to the first feedpoint about 50km in and my water had barely been touched, there was no real reason to stop, so I just pootled on through and out up the next hill. The crowds of people were thinning out a bit now, so travelling at my own speed was much easier, rather than battering along at a pace prescribed by someone else. There were some spectacular views out over the general area at this point, so I stopped for a photo before carrying on. 

The open road

The gravel was, for the most part, fairly benign under tyre. The Fairlight was shod with 650b- 2.2in gravelking sk - which were almost overkill for the vast majority of the day. In the previous edition I had 700x42 WTB resolutes, and equally, they were more than a match for the terrain. There were a few dodgy bits where I realised I was travelling downhill- but also surfing from side to side a fair amount, which was a tad alarming- and there were a few times where my prefered line around the corner was sacrificed for something a lot more tame and less likely to end in gravel-rash, but that might have been just me being a wimp, and prefering to have skin. 

Once 65km was passed (the first loop back around to the castle), a road was crossed and there was another 30km to go before the next feedstation- this section included the steepest part of the course, which was a timetrial stage, over which the fastest person would win a pair of Lauf forks. Very nice. Now don't get me wrong, none of this course is crazy steep. There are much MUCH tougher climbs around here in the Peak district, but by this stage, I was not in much of a state to do anything above just get up the next hill. Let's say that I certainly wasn't going eyeballs out for the special stage. I didn't even mind when the dude on the single speed mountain bike came buzzing past me. Whatever.

Rolling around into the Lake shore I started chatting with a guy from Ripon who is a keen caver, and we stuck together for the next few miles to the checkpoint. There was a minor kerfuffle where it was apparent there was a mass dog-walk on the same stretch of path as the Reiver, so there was about a km of excitement as we slowed down and made our way through vast amounts of K-9 related ambulation as politely as we possibly could. 

Checkpoint 2 is at 95km or so, just before the decision point for 130km or 200km. Up to this point I had almost been in 2 minds about going with the 130, rather than overstretching myself on the 200. However, right now, it was a beautiful day, and at 95k, there would only have been another 35k left... barely enough to call it a full day out. 200 it is then. Grabbing a coke, filling a waterbottle and saying hi to Rich Seipp who was manning the feed station I turned around and headed back out for the next 105k.

Checkpoint 2- Gimme some coke

From here, the next feed station is at 147km, so you have a fair amount of distance to go before then- but afterward, there is only about 53km to go to get home. This is where you end up in some fairly remote countryside, which can be made more challenging with head and side winds. The key here is to just try and stay on top of eating and drinking, and keep churning away at the pedals. It isn't bad through this bit- it's really quite fun because you know that there are only 200ers on this bit of the course. By now the same faces are passing you and getting passed by you as we each have a good or bad time, so cheery hello's are still kind of the order of the day. The headwind eventually became a tailwind, which was nice- until you realised the tailwind was coming from the West.... the return leg from the next checkpoint was going to be purgatory. 

Buzzing down into Stoneyhaugh for the feedstation/checkpoint and I was starting to feel quite significantly fatigued. A quick stop off for water, a fig roll and a quick walk around to take the pressure off my bum, and I was ready to go again, fully looking forward to 55km of headwind. I'd rearranged the food in my bag to make sure the Tangfastics were easily accessible... I had a feeling they might be needed. 

Checkpoint 3. Ready for some headwind

Headwinds on their own are kind of ok. Gravel on it's own is kind of ok. Uphill on it's own is kind of ok. All of them together? After 150km... its a recipe for chain eating Haribo and drinking a LOT of water. By this time I was almost at the stage of counting down kilometres- but was fully aware that at the speed I was going, that was going to be fairly dispiriting. Instead I simply resolved to only have a look at how far we had to go once we got to the dam back at Kielder Water. Which looked like being quite a long way away. Anyhow- the vast majority of this section I seem to recall, basically involved grovelling along at my own speed watching other people power off up hills at a speed I could only dream of as I shoveled haribo after haribo down my throat. 

Character forming. 

Eventually we got to the Dam- I have no idea how far we had left at that point... 25km? 30? No clue... but I saw an Osprey overhead, which was a pretty good spot. 

The final hill was taken with a profusion of swearwords, and the final 20k seemed to take forever, with my bum becoming more and more painful by the pedalstroke, but eventually, 9hours and 45 mins after starting I pulled into the Castle grounds and nigh on collapsed. Vegan curry and pitta and low-alcohol Erdinger was served up, before I went off and found the "luxury showers"- which were, I have to say, the best and most luxurious showers ever. Whoever's idea it was to have those showers at the end of this event is a Genius. Pure and simple. 

Then I crashed for a couple of hours and slept, before going for a burger and chips at sundown, and watched the most incredible amount of stars appear as night overtook. Kielder is of course a Dark Skies area, and by crikey, there are a LOT of star that you can see from there. 

Up early and a drive home, and here we are. The bike is clean, the clothes are in the wash and I can sit down without wincing. Bonus. What a great weekend.

Bike Packing- GRRoad to North Yorkshire and back

Having been variously injured for the past few weeks and months - well, not exactly injured- more just unable to run as much or as far as I am accustomed due to a number of niggles, I was kind of aching for a little adventure. It certainly wasn't going to be a running adventure, and most likely not a walking one either. The pressing issue of maybe starting school again in September meant that now was going to have to be the right time to go. 

Somewhat fortutitously a vaccination shift I was due to be at on Thursday was cancelled because of lack of uptake (not good in the general sense, but good in that I had a spare extra day to do stuff). Bikepacking seemed like the most obvious thing to do- a run of fine weather into the weekend made it look like *not* going was a silly thing to do. 

All packed and ready to go

Oh the enthusiasm

This being said, I find the hardest thing to do is actually leave the house on the adventure. The hardest step, for me- is the first one. By wednesday evening the route was planned (a reverse variation on a gravel route flagged up to my by Hux- all the way to Kielder forest, followed by a road route of my own devising to get home before work next week). All the stuff was packed on the bike, which was pretty heavy, it has to be said, all it needed was for me to leave. Minor issue was a short doctors appointment on Thursday morning- I would leave *right* after it. 

Nope. More faff. More procrastination. I'll leave *right* after lunch. 

As we were finishing lunch- Mountain Rescue Callout. Ah- if this goes on for a long time, I might as well put it off til tomorrow.... 

I ended up getting back relatively quickly, and was pretty much booted out of the house by Lynne. I wasn't hugely psyched to be heading out of the house on an adventure at 3:30pm- as previously mentioned, that first step is definitely the hardest. 

The route taken actually heads North from Manchester in quite a winding fashion, up through Colne and the trough of Bowland before going more North-East into the middle of the Yorkshire dales, before going North East-ish again up to Kielder. From Glossop I took a fairly direct road route to Delph whereupon I joined the gravelly bit. The idea was not to spend vast amounts of time opening and closing gates on paths I know pretty well, but to maximise time spent further afield. 

There was no expectation as to how far I was going to get on the Thursday night- indeed this was part of the whole thing... how far is it reasonable to expect to be able to get in a day on a bike? What is my current level of ability with ALL this stuff strapped to a bike?

The kilometres passed relatively fast, and I was astonished to find myself passing the M62 pretty soon. Under tyre was a mixture of road and gravel, the vast majority- at this stage- was ridable. My main concern was how often would I be able to fill up with water- and where would I camp this evening. It was these twin "anxieties" that shaped most of my thinking, which is a bit of a shame when you're meant to be enjoying yourself. 

Through Whitworth and along the Pennine Bridleway (more gates) and over Rooley Moor Road- a fairly decent hill- before dropping into the Rossendale valley. The centre of town was a perfect place to pick up a pizza and a pepsi- downing most of it, before thinking... this would be a good breakfast. 4 slices were placed sticky-side to sticky-side and put in a plastic bag for consumption tomorrow morning.

Dinner. (and breakfast)

 (One of the things I'm missing on my set up is a decent place to put sandwiches and food on the go... definitely needs a re-think)- so the pizza got stuffed in a pocket (warm back... ew) as I carried on up the road past reservoirs, hills, on and off the Pennine Bridleway, on single track and road. Fabulous biking on Extwistle Moor- where I saw a couple of Mountain Bikers on an evening trundle. On and up the Bronte Way and through Trawden as the light was fading. 

I decided on a random field next to the road where the grass had been cut recently, figuring that there would be no animals to disturb, no crops to disturb, if I was next to the wall, my tent was low enough not to be seen from the road, and the cut grass would need to be dry before the farmer could do anything with it- so being up at 5am would get me out of there before being disturbed myself. 

Tent up, I settled down to a very uncomfortable night due to my ecsema being affected very badly by the sweat I had not had a chance to wash off myself. If anything- this is the worst part of bikepacking, or hiking, or Mountain Marathoning for me. By morning I was a bleeding, red raw mess with not a lot of sleep. I've solved the eye issue with laser surgery- now all I need to sort out is my skin. 

Campsite

Up early, and everything was covered in dew. I put on every bit of bike clothing I had- leg warmers, arm warmers, gilet, warm jacket etc. and packed up camp in my barefeet, figuring that drying my feet next to the road and putting on dry socks and shoes would be a LOT better than wandering around in cold wet shoes for a long while. The tent was a whole lot heavier, due to the dew, but that got packed away, and I stood by the side of the road, with dry feet in my dry shoes, looking across mist shrouded hills and Colne as I munched my way through a couple of "pocket made" calzones. 

Colne is a town of many cobbles, and I climbed my way up and through at a slow speed, still wearing everything I owned. Ridge of Weets was next, and the sun was still not out- the air was chilled, and everything stayed on. Down into Gisburn and I finally spied a service station about 200m out of my way. AHA! Coffee!

A minor detour rewarded me with coffee, water to fill my bottles and a toilet stop. Onwards and now Westwards, and it was only about 5k later that it was finally warm enough to take off my primaloft top and leg warmers. 

From here, I vaguely recognised the road as a previous short ride with Hux and friends took us through the Trough of Bowland. Truth be told, it was playing on my mind a bit as the route was fairly arduous last time, and that was with an unloaded bike. Goodness knows how hard it was going to feel fully laden, on day 2 of a trip. 

Sun lotion location

 

Winding through Slaidburn and up to the start of the Croasdale fell gravel road, I stopped for an application of sun lotion, congratulating myself on getting to this stage this early. There were visions of having to cross this in the absolute heat of the day, so all good so far. I then utterly astonished myself by managing to blast across the tops in short order, with only a minimal amount of pushing. Yes, there are a couple of really hard going parts with massive rocks to negotiate, but by and large, it is pretty rideable. A superb downhill section dropped me into Hornby for a very well deserved breakfast of Almond Croissant and Coffee, where I sat, took stock of where I was, where I was about to go and how everything was feeling. 

Croasdale fell road

It was about 1030ish, I'd been on the go since 5 and covered a part of the gravel section I was really apprehensive about. Brilliant. Minor issue now was it was only going to get hotter, and the next section of gravel was Cam High road- last seen by me in 2016- January- at the end of the Spine Challenger. Scene of grim, cold feet and exciting hallucinations. 

Breakfast at Hornby!

Well-- the weather was a little different this time. I hauled my way to my feet, grabbed a goodbye snack of Rocky Road for the- uh- road, and set off towards Ribblehead. There were some delightful little backroads to take on the way up to Ingleton. The Old Roman road below Twistleon Scars was a pleasure to bimble along, and it was deceptively quiet until I hit Ribblehead where there were, quite literally, hundreds of cars and people. I didn't bother to stop for a photo, until I saw a Holme Valley MRT truck by the side of the road, who I decided to have a chat with. Apparently one of their guys was doing a 3 peaks walk, and they were supporting with a LOT of water. 

Ribblesdale Head viaduct... which means......

Saying goodluck, I went onward, toward Cam Fell. Not looking forward to it, it became apparent that no, I might not be doing the Bowland section in the heat, but I would be doing *this* bit in the teeth of the day. Great. 

Again, cycling as hard as I could over broken ground, on a fully laden gravel bike- which was really pretty hard. My max power output was *definitely* far above anything I normally put out on the road, but as the sun beat down, my speed got slower. Stopping to open and close gates robbed me of speed and momentum and it was a hard won slog to the top. 

...Cam high road is not far away

Along the top of Cam High Road was hot, but pretty pleasant (looking down at one point to see the road from Hawes climb steeply up to me- and realising *that* was part of my homeward route- oh). And then a seemingly eternal downhill gravel section to Bainbridge- one of the only times where I wished I had a bike with some travel on the front forks. And the back end. And Massive tyres. And no luggage. Going down the track was hard work, I can't even imagine what it must be like having to go up it. 

Lunch stop in the shade

Askrigg was the place I stopped for lunch at a tearoom, in the shade of a tree- filled up with water and an icecream before heading north again. Straight into the teeth of one of the biggest, nastiest climb I had been on. As I went up I was unsurprised to find my head looking for ditches to fall into- just for a bit of shade and respite from the head. It was brutal and unrelenting in gradient and heat. At the top I looked across northwards to the hills I had yet to cross, and thought... "no". I need to be thinking about turning back. My legs are done, the heat is just too much, Kielder can wait for another day.

The turning point

Down the other side of Askrigg, I turned left instead of right and found myself hugely under powered. Should have had a nap back in Bainbridge- now is a good time, if there is anywhere. A dappled spot by the side of the road where no-one had parked provided me with a place for 20 mins before figuring I should go on- and 500 metres down the road- a campsite. 

This. Will. Do. They had space for a one person tent and showers. £8. Done. I stopped. 

The restoritive effect of a shower and multiple Callipos cannot be understated- and I pretty much slept for 15 hours. 

And they had ducks!

Knowing it was going to be as hot, if not worse on the Saturday, 6am was the start time of choice. Again, packing up a wet tent in bare feet, cooking breakfast and being away by 5:50 was the order of the day. 

5:55... and it already looks like it's going to be a warm one

First things first- Buttertubs. 20% or so of upward grind- the weather was a delight, and all the warm clothing that I thought I was going to need came off before I was halfway up. 

Buttertubs

 

Down to Hawes, put on sun lotion- it was hotting up despite only being 7am, and then straight up Fleetwith Moss (I think). This route was all about road, and was intended to be a speedy way home. The momentum of the luggage on the bike kept me going down through Kettleshulme and into Skipton by 9am, for a brief breakfast of, you guessed it, an Almond Croissant and an espresso- before carrying on. At this speed it looked like I might be home for 3pm- but the heat of the day was already bearing down. It was 24 degrees and climbing, so a race against time really. (It hadn't helped that in the last week I've been involved in 2 presentations about heat exhaustion, heat stroke, seizures and death- which kept my mind occupied). Lynne and I were in fairly regular contact, and as it got hotter, I got slower, and we decided that a minor rescue was probably a good idea. 

Hammering on southward it became apparent that I was absolutely knackered beyond description as I resorted to walking up a number of hills, a short interlude at Tim Lane was had and it was obvious that lunch was needed. 

Found it!

I hit Slathewaite where I had perhaps the most delicious Chicken Caeser Wrap every made by BP- and spoke to Lynne, who was getting ready to come and find me.  My Wahoo registered 35 degrees as I climbed out of Slathwaite- it was getting on for midday and it was obvious to me that I was going to get no further than Meltham. Hands were getting blistered from sweaty hands sliding around in my mitts, legs had stopped working a while ago and it was with great relief that I came across our van on the way down into Meltham. 

Rescue- with iced water, food, a change of clothes, and a towel. Respite from constant churning- thank goodness.

Rescue

I think I could have got home, but I'd have been in a lot worse state than when I was picked up. 

Learning points from the trip:

1- get a side access bottle cage. I found I wasn't drinking a lot because I couldn't access my bottle due to the frame bag being in the way. This probably contributed to me being over heated and exhausted on days 1 and 2. 

2 - Drink more- another reason I wasn't drinking much was because I was a bit concerned about running out of water. Paradoxically I ended up not drinking enough even though I had water on the bike, and so dehydrated because of that. You can always buy water at a service station if necessary. 

3 - Take a towel. I was SO glad of the towel (yes, it is a luxury)- but with skin as bad as mine, it is effectively a necessity. 

4 - Get a bag to hold sandwiches!

5 - The main thing that stops me going is the anticipation of destroying my skin over a few days of adventure. It really does take the fun out of things. Starting to look into DMARDS to perhaps help with this.

6- just because there are 15 hours of daylight doesn't mean I can actually cycle for 15 hours! (far from it).

All in all it was a great trip, with some lovely places. There were times when I wished I had a mountain bike, there were times I wished I had bigger gears to help get up hills- however, the Fairlight Secan never missed a beat. It went over a whole lot of terrain that stretched the design limits of the bike, and although it wasn't as comfortable as doing it on a more suspension laden bike, it still coped. 

As if that wasn't enough, I was just sitting down at the end of the day to chill out and the rescue alarm went off.... ah well, a nice way to book end the adventure. Off out on the bike with the Mountain Rescue kit on the back.

Off out again....