Start From Where You Are

"Start from where you are, not where you want to be." is the first bit of advice any personal trainer or physiotherapist worth their salt will give you, and as advice goes, it's about as sound as it gets. It applies both physically and mentally, but of course, it involves a degree of acceptance on your part.

I'm not where I want to be at the moment.

On 10th October 2012, around 9am, I was cycling 16 or so miles to work at a school in Narberth. It was a wet morning, much like most of 2012, and my route took me through Canaston Woods, a large, densely wooded hilly area. Coming down a slight incline, I crossed a small bridge at the bottom, touched my back brake and BAM! I was on the deck, so fast I'd no idea what had happened. There had been a very loud crack, which I assumed was my helmet hitting something. Slowly, I gathered myself together and tried to stand up. I couldn't. Something was seriously wrong. I heard a girl's voice asking if I was OK, and without thinking or even looking round I replied "No, I'm not OK. I think my arm is broken." She came over to me and helped me up, and I recognised her as a runner I had passed a mile or so back, and had wished her a good morning. She helped me gather my bike, bottles, and panniers together and very kindly walked with me into Narberth, about 2 miles along a footpath, pushing my bike the whole way, and talking to me the whole time. I didn't have the school's number in my phone, so I phoned my boss and told her what had happened. As luck would have it she was nearby and was able to drop what she was doing and come to pick up both me and my bike, dropping me at A&E some 10 miles away, and taking my bike home for me. (The bike, by the way, was fine.)

I didn't need x-rays to tell me I'd broken my left wrist, I'd broken the same wrist in the same place when I was around 17 years old, some 36 years previous. It felt just the same. After a day of having the bones manipulated back into place and set in a cast, I was allowed home. There would, I was relieved to hear, be no need for surgery, for pins, screws, bolts or plates. Phew.

Now, over 3 months later, it's not so phew. The wrist has knitted together "as well as we could expect", but is visibly crooked. It won't bend backwards at all. There is constant tingling in my fingers. Painkillers make no odds. I take Tramadol at night to help with sleep, and Amitriptyline to try and dull the nerve pain in my hand. I have physiotherapy sessions once a week, only this week's was cancelled due to it falling on Boxing Day. I'm waiting for tests on my median nerve. I'm told the tests are "basic". They won't happen in a hurry. By the time I've had them done, I'll know if the nerve is getting better on its own.

Over on the other side of my body, I have pain in my upper arm in which no-one is interested. It impairs movement quite a lot, as does the ongoing pain in my wrist. Getting out of the bath is a real test, and I'm amazed I haven't slipped and done myself further mischief.

I've been off my bike for over 3 months, one of the longest times ever.

A friend loaned me a turbo trainer, which I set up in the living room. I've used it once in 6 weeks. There was nowhere I could put my left hand on the bars which was comfortable. I fitted aero bars. I can ride like that, but I still need to use my brakes occasionally. I've just fitted flat bars.

2013 was to be the year that I did some truly mammoth rides. Audax UK runs the London-Edinburgh-London ride every 4 years, and this is the year. A friend in Holland has invited me over at Easter to ride a 400km cycle route with him. I'd planned on riding from Pembrokeshire to Harwich en route. I've just received my "Mileater Diary", as my total mileage for next year was destined to be pretty awesome, yet now it looks like I won't be on my bike for some months yet.

I'm not where I want to be.

Avalon Sunrise - the statistics

Start:10.30pm Friday 22nd June 2012

Travelled: 350km

Average speed: 14kmh

Ascent: 4415m

Descent: 4498m

What Am I Doing?

Tiverton, a Devon Market Town. 11.30pm, Saturday night. The Police are busy with the tipout of the local pubs and bars, when through town comes a spread-out line of cyclists. They all have good lights, maps, routesheets and head torches on their helmets.

As I come through, at the rear of the line, curiosity has got the better of one of them.

"What are you lot doing?" he asks me, with a touch of incedulity in his voice.

"A bike ride." I say.

"Where to?"

"Just around"

"How far?"

"400 kilometers"

"What for?"

Silence.

"Is it for charity?" he prompts.

"No."

He gives up, and goes back to his drunks. They make more sense.

The exact same exchange is repeated further on up the road.

The Good Stuff

While I was being checked over in hospital, a young student doctor was asking me routine questions, but kind of veered off into "extreme sport" territory and started asking about long carb diets and so on. I stopped him.

"This isn't extreme sport," I explained, "It's just a bike ride."

And let's get it in perspective, that's all it was. It was 400 kilometres of cycling, some of it uphill, some of it downhill, some of it on the level, some of it dry, some of it wet. The sort of thing I do just about every day of my life, only I was doing a great deal of it all at once.

True, it was twice as far as the longest I'd ridden in one go before. I thought of how I felt when I arrived at my inlaws' house at Barmouth, just before Easter, and asked myself "Could I have just had a quick snack and come all the way home again?". The answer was probably not, but then, I hadn't started the ride with that in mind. I had felt good at the end of it, and did cycle most of the way back a couple of days later, as well as having a reasonable intermediate ride while I was there.

On the Avalon Sunrise, if I hadn't endured 5 hours of torrential rain coupled with freezing winds, I'd have completed in time. I'm happy with what I did, and no, the experience certainly hasn't diminished my enthusiasm for audax in the slightest. If anything, the opposite.

A few excellent lessons have been learned.

Next time, I shall arrive early enough to be rested upbefore the ride starts. The ride started at 10.30pm, and I'd had no sleep since 7am. I'd done a morning's work and made a long train journey with 2 changes in the afternoon. I was already quite tired.

Next time, I'll take a survival blanket or two with me. It had crossed my mind, but I didn't do anything about it. If I'd had one, I could have found a sheltered corner, and got myself warmer than I was, and could have probably carried on after a couple of hours sleep.

Next time, I'll be carrying less luggage, but what to leave out?

Next time, I WILL have lost some weight. 

Next time, I won't be dependent on the kindness of strangers.

So, why do it at all, let alone again?

There were a few things which attracted me to the Avalon Sunrise:

• starting a ride at sunset
• riding through Glastonbury at dawn
• riding for around 24 hours
• getting back to a lovely pub for food and drink at the end
• a quiet night of camping before coming home 

I was a bit gobsmacked by the start - I hadn't expected the pace to be quite so, well, brisk.

I was very soon left holding the Lanterne Rouge, a position I am familiar with, but I kept their red lights in my sight as far as the first control (25km).

After that, I knew if I tried to hold onto them, my pace would be unsustainable, so I settled into my own groove. Riding the A395 from Tiverton to Minehead was lovely - gradients are easier, simply because you can't see them at night. The noises of the forest spur you on to faster and faster descents! A very welcome cup of tea in the company of two elderly ladies in Minehead was quite surreal at the second control, when I discovered I was not the back marker after all - someone had started late!

Along the A39 to Bridgwater, the wind was (mostly) at my back and made the going easy, though a couple of hours of light rain just before dawn soon countered that. Daylight as I neared Street and Glastonbury was very welcome, and the views were a delight. The day became a test of stamina and concentration which I seemed to be winning. I was arriving at controls in time, I was riding comfortably, my bike was singing. My only "mechanical" problem had been my maptrap vibrating loose on my new aero bars. The late starter, a chap who'd punctured twice and the tandem riders (who'd also punctured) soon overtook me. I didn't care.

I was enjoying a much anticipated bacon sandwich on the Bath-Bristol cycle path when I realised I hadn't left myself much time to make the control at Chepstow, and I was further hampered with the complicated web of roundabouts crossed by cycle paths I had to negotiate to skirt around Bristol, but I just made it. That was the halfway point.

Coming back, that's where the pear began to take shape. The rain started somewhere around 4pm and didn't let up. I arrived at a control a little late, and couldn't find the shop, so decided to forget any more controls and just make it back. A random stranger came up and said "get a receipt from the Co-Op" and disappeared into the rain!

I did, and kicked on. The rain was evil. Roads were flooded up to a foot deep in places. I was sick of hills. As night fell I found the last control; a petrol station I'd called into before on the way out. They had a coffee machine! It was Out Of Order! One of the girls behind the counter made me a cup of tea! She offered me a lift back to my tent! I wish now I'd accepted! An hour later, I was out of the game.

Next year will be different!

 

A Comfortable Place

I took this photo minutes after leaving Bath hospital at 7am on Sunday 24th June. I was cold, hungry, thirsty, damp and tired. I was carrying a hefty pannier which very soon started to hurt my fingers. Someone pulled alongside in a car and demanded to know where the local Travelodge was. It was a local taxi driver. I passed the police station. An old man with a splendid beard was just leaving, with his tesco trolley and a couple of carrier bags, escorted out by a young constable. I came upon a lovely cafe full of warmth and pleasant smells with menus in the window and the door open. I walked in, only to be told that they didn't open till 9am. It was 07:45. I found the train station. I could get a train at 09:39. I resumed me search for food. Only McDonald's was open.

 

Strangers to kindness.

I have a faintly ridiculous acquaintance who becomes theatrically aghast whenever I mention my cycling mileage. If it was ever amusing, that wore off a long time ago. He will ask "but what would you do if..." questions ad nauseam, and whenever I bother to dignify his puerile questionings with a reply, it's usually "I don't know until it happens".

Occasionally, on a long ride, such questions will echo round my head, at which point I usually go "la la la la la la la la LA LA LA!" until it goes away. Most shit doesn't actually happen, so it's a waste of energy thinking about it.

This weekend, while riding a 400k audax, I got so wet and cold I had to stop, for the first time, ever. I could not physically continue. It was awful.

It happened around 10pm Saturday evening. I'd been cycling constantly (apart from food stops) since 10.30pm the previous evening. I'd also been awake the whole of Friday; at work in the morning, travelling by train in the afternoon, with 2 changes, so no chance of a kip on the train without running the risk of waking up somewhere totally inappropriate.

At around 5pm on the Saturday, it started to rain (it might have been earlier). When I say "rain", I mean rain of biblical proportions. At one point, I rode through a flooded stretch of country lane which completely covered my chainset, so well over a foot deep. However, once you're wet, you're wet, and that's usually as bad as it gets, so you carry on. I remember musing about why people moan about rain, why it has the capacity to make them thoroughly miserable. As poet Mark Gwynne-Jones says "It's Only Water".

However, at around 9:30pm, the wind, which had been around the whole time in varying strengths, picked up. The chill factor, and the fact that the sun had just set somewhere beyond those impenetrable clouds, meant the temperature dropped faster than a lemming.

I had about 50k left of my ride to complete. I decided it would be best to stick to the main road. I quickly got slower and slower as my legs started to seize. Mentally, I thought I felt fine. Suddenly, I stopped. No reason. One minute fine, one minute not.

(I'm finding this hard to write about now, maybe because the danger of my situation has finally dawned on me.)

The roundabouts on the A361 at Frome have names. From somewhere the idea came to stand at a roundabout so I could tell the emergency services my location. I became lucid again once I had someone on the phone to talk to. There was a petrol station, but it took me some time to decide to go and stand under the canopy, out of the rain. The man behind the glass ignored me completely.

A paramedic first response car turned up and he eventually got the miserable bastard in the shop to open the door and let us stand inside, but only after he'd said "This guy is hypothermic, I have to get him out of the cold or he may die." Even then, the guy begrudged us every inch of floor space.

The paramedic suggested all sorts of ways I might get out of this mess, but none of them amounted to anything:

• Local B&B - how do we find them? Tried a few from the 118 numbet, no vacancies.
• Taxi from Frome to Taunton - quote £150!
• No-one available to pick me up - told the audax organiser I wouldn't be home by midnight, but he didn't have any way of helping.
• He couldn't leave me in his control room or he'd be hanged, drawn and quartered the next day. 
• Local Police - were willing to help, but they couldn't leave me in the station alone, and it was midnight on Saturday night. They did however very kindly pick my bike up from the back of the petrol station, and keep in in the police station for me to collect the next day.

The only option we had was for him to drive me 30 miles to Bath Hospital, take me to A&E, and hope they would give me shelter. What they did give me was a Hard Time.

He pickied up 3 blankets from his office for me - the nurses took these away from me, apart from the one I refused to let go of.
They told me I wasn't ill, and that I shouldn't be there.
I asked where I should go and volunteered to go there. No suggestions.
I desperately needed hot fluids, they gave me a cup of lukewarm tea.
A student doctor examined me and said I needed food and warmth. They refused, maintaining that I was not a medical emergency.
They maintained, from 1am onwards, that they would get busy any minute (they never did) and that I would be "in the way".
They told me that my predicament was "completely self-inflicted"
They made me sleep in a chair, despite having six empty beds.
I was told to leave at 7am, whether ready or not. Trust me, I was ready.

The paramedic would have probably taken me to his house if that was the only option.

The police did what they could.

The petrol station guy would have let me die on his doorstep.

The nurses would have done the same, only it would have looked bad on them, so they tried to make me more miserable than I already was.

What has happened to human compassion? 

When I was turfed out of the hospital I phoned my friend Steve who lives quite a way away, but nearer than anyone else. He simply asked where I needed picking up from. Nothing else. Thanks, Steve.

God bless everyone I met that night, particularly the girls I met in the previous petrol station, one of whom made me a free cup of tea because the coffee machine wasn't working, and actually offered me a lift to my tent!

 

 

 

...more warming up

Following my evening ride yesterday, today I rode to Haverfordwest (20km) and had a swim. I can't remember the last time I swam! It's well over a year ago, and I was only capable of 10 lengths of the pool, which is shameful even by my paltry standards. I then had to have an MRI scan on my left knee, during which I fell asleep.

Cycling home, I felt quite poorly at one point - dizziness and tingling. I sat down for 10 minutes and had some chocolate and it passed, but still left me feeling quite weak.

less than 2 weeks...

I found this quote last night:

"The best rides are the ones where you bite off much more than you can chew, and live through it." Doug Bradbury (Manitou)

and that kind of sums it all up for me.

Last Thursday I'd planned to ride all night in preparation for the Avalon Sunrise. Watching the six o'clock news, I decided against it after the second severe weather warning was announced (rain and high winds), though a part of me still wanted to venture out just to see how bad it was. The next day, as I surveyed ripped branches and fallen trees, I was glad I hadn't (though a part of me was sorry).

That was kind of my only chance at serious preparation.

Yesterday I was marshalling the Long Course weekend, manning a food station for riders doing 40, 70 and 118 mile rides. I saw the riders of the long ride twice. Some were prepared, some not so. A few had definitely bitten off more than they could chew, but they were carrying on. One guy near the back was looking close to collapse, and stated that he probably wasn't going to finish. Another rider overheard him and said "you've come too far not to finish, you'll do it!" and rode off up the lane. The food stop was at the 73 mile mark, he still had over 40 miles to do. The remark seemed to spur him on. I made sure he had enough water and food to keep him going, and off he went.

I hope he made it.

I tend not to prepare for anything really, I just do it. How can I prepare to ride twice as far as I've ever ridden in a day? I've no idea what cycling further than 200k in one go feels like, but I do know that cycling long distances over a few days gets easier as the days go by. The best way, for me, to warm up for a 100k ride is to ride more than 100k the previous day, so I know it's well within my capabilities, but 400k will never be within my capabilities, even when I've done one, the next one will be just as much of a challenge.

I think all I can realistically do is keep riding a bit each day, make sure my bike is in good order, and make sure I have enough food/drink/clothing to survive 24 hours in the saddle.

My route sheet is here.
My train tickets are here.
It's too late to stop now. 

400km of audacity

I'm not sure what possessed me to do it, but I've just this minute registered for a 400km audax event, which is around 240 miles in old money.

This is twice as far as I've ever ridden in one go.

Still, it's three weeks away.

Frankly, I don't know what I'm doing, I'm just winging it.

I've recently spent lots more money than I should have on stuff for my bike; new bars, bar tape (leather, cost 3 times more than the bars themselves) a "map trap" for route sheets, new saddle bag, new shoes etc etc, so maybe this is a way of justifying the expense?

Actually, the shoes were a necessity. My old Bontrager shoes have had three years of hard wear. The inner material around the heel had long since perished and my heels were constantly rubbing against shards of bare plastic - they actually wore holes in my sealskinz socks! I now have a rather nice pair of North Wave Gore Tex touring shoes with Vibram soles - cycling shoes I can actually walk comfortably in! They're also plenty wide enough for my feet, which I've always had trouble with in the past, but best of all, they were in a sale! I was already looking at some non-goretex touring shoes which were reasonably priced, and these were only a little extra.

The ride I've entered is the Avalon Sunrise. Who could resist with such a lovely name?

I'll let you know how I get on.

Audax 2: The Lumpy Scrumpy

128km (due to a couple of wanders off the beaten track)

ascent: 2299m (!)

Time taken: approximately 10 hours

Sadly, not a good one for my friend Steve, who had to bale out due to illness at around the 40k mark. I wasn't out to break any records, but the time was slow even by my snail-like standards. Not long after Steve baled, I hit a pothole badly and got a "snakebite" puncture which was a bugger to fix and took me 40 minutes in the end. I also got lost a couple of times, never badly, but costly, time-wise. By the time I'd finished, of course, I didn't care, but the organiser came along in his car and kindly took my brevet card from me, which lifted my spirits somewhat.

I only got rained on very lightly, and only for about 10-20 minutes.

Saddle Sore

I bought a bike saddle from Tredz online store in November 2011. Ordered 1st November, delivered with typical Tredz urgency at least 3 weeks later.

The saddle in question was a Charge Spoon, recommended by my buddy Steve.

I was a bit disappointed to find, when it arrived, that it was upholstered in "synthetic" leather, but at the price (around £25), I wasn't too bothered, as it was only a trial purchase.

I liked it straight away. It's a good shape, very firm. Kind of saddle you'll love or hate, no in betweens.

It didn't get anywhere near as much use over the winter as it would usually get. I had very little work, so I wasn't commuting. The weather was rubbish for leisure rides, so not many of those either.

By the middle of March the surface material had started to fray, which was mildly annoying, considering the minimal amount of use it had, so I decided (eventually) to contact Tredz about it.

I sent them the above photo with the following email:

Hi Tredz,
I ordered a Charge Spoon saddle from you on 1st November 2011, which arrived a couple of weeks later. (order no 162557)
As you can see from the attached photo, the surface material has split and is peeling away.
I do a lot of mileage, using my bike for commuting and audax riding, but I expect a lot more from a saddle than I’m getting from this one. I’ve only been riding it for 4.5 months, and my mileage dropped considerably over the winter months.
Your thoughts, comments, and suggestions please.

Kind regards
Jim 

After no reply for a couple of weeks, I phoned them, and was asked to resend the email as they couldn't find it, so I did. Here's their reply:

Thanks for getting the pictures through again!

Having looked at the picture, and where the wearing has occurred, the saddle has appeared to suffer under normal wear and tear. that said , I am a little surprised that it has gone so soon, but there are many factors that are involved here, including your thigh shape, trouser/short material, weather conditions (sunlight/moisture), not to mention riding style and if like me, you may crash the bike a lot! which can bring on the wearing much sooner.

With all this in mind, I have just contacted our Charge supplier to see if this would be considered a warranty issue. They have informed me that Charge saddle have a 90 day manufacturers warranty, from date of purchase (or in your case delivery). So unfortunately there is little we can do regarding this particular saddle for you.

However, we would still like to help you as much as we can, and as the Spoon saddle is widely regarded as being a good one, we would highly recommend upgrading to the leather version (the synthetic material is weaker, and will not last as long, as you have experienced),
and we would be happy to offer one of these saddles to you for a discounted price of £67.99 for the Brown Leather and Ti-Railed version, and are happy to offer a discount on any other item that you may prefer - but please contact us regarding the pricing first, just to be sure.

We are sorry that we cannot help further with the saddle you have, but should you have any queries, or would like to discuss the order in any way, please do not hesitate to contact us.

Regards,
Errol,
Tredz Customer Care

My response:

Hi Errol,
Thanks for this – very helpful, though I am disappointed to say the least! I don’t crash my bike all that often as I’m a roadie and don’t bounce too well these days. I always wear Endura Humvee, either short or long, as they’re just the perfect garment. My thighs do not resemble those of Sir Chris of Hoy, though living in Pembrokeshire, I wish they did. My bike, (Surly Crosscheck) while not moving, is kept indoors, and is looked after, some might say, a little too well, so if that’s “normal” wear, then I’m completely dissatisfied with that particular product, even at the price I paid.
Thanks for the offer of a discount on the TI rail leather saddle, but I still just can’t afford that at the moment (and they’re currently being offered at wiggle even cheaperhttp://www.wiggle.co.uk/charge-spoon-ti-leather-saddle-with-titanium-rails/.) I’ll have a think about it and get back to you.
cheers
Jim

No response from Tredz as yet.

I contacted Charge:

Hi There,
I’m the guy who commented on your facebook page.
I attach a photo of what’s happened to my Charge Spoon, as you can see, it’s not the stitching which has frayed but the synthetic leather.
I ordered the saddle from Tredz on 1st November 2011, and received it about 3 weeks later.
I commute by bike, and ride long distance (audax) but my mileage is considerably less in the winter as my work as a cycle trainer is seasonal, so my saddle has seen no unseemly or extraordinary use. When not in use my cycle is always kept indoors and well maintained.
The fraying appeared about a month ago; the end of March, meaning I’d been riding it about 3 months.
I personally don’t consider this acceptable at all. From any saddle whatsoever, I would expect a year’s riding from it before it started to fall apart. I’d like your opinion on whether you think it’s acceptable wear and tear. I’m not after anything else.

Jim

Their rather perplexing response:

Thanks for getting in touch. As I have already mentioned on Facebook, we have no influence on warranty or do we cover warranty here. We are only 3 people total in Charge and have a team of experienced people dedicated to dealing with issues like these around the world.

For this reason, I can only agree with what our distributor has said as they have more experience than I. They see all warranty returns in the UK from Cannondale, GT, Mongoose, Charge, WTP bmx, etc. They see a lot more worn out components than we do.
As a contrast we do not see or hear of returns. We have many test mules so our own saddles don't get a lot of use, we don't see differing wear here.

Thanks for mailing us and I'm sorry I couldn't give you an alternative view. I hope you understand.

Kind regards,

Neil Cousins

 

(wo)man and machine

Giving some thought to long distance cycling, which is best done on a long bike ride. It may be stating the glaringly obvious, but the key factor is comfort, in every respect. Any tiny amount of discomfort is going to become disproportionately magnified with each passing mile, be it an inner-thigh chafe or a humble hunger pang.

I get pain in my knees. I fell off my bike a couple of months ago and landed heavily on my left knee. Stupidly, I didn't get it looked at immediately, and it doesn't seem to be getting any better. Thankfully, it's not constant pain, and can be "ridden around", but I am going to get it "looked at" before undertaking any more long rides.

I consider myself lucky that that's the only discomfort I've noticed (though maybe it got so bad that it's eclipsed the rest!)

So, what makes a cyclist comfortable?

The Bike: This has to be the main consideration. If (wo)man and machine are to exist in perfect harmony, then the machine needs to be as near perfect as can be. I've ridden good and bad bikes, and it's not an easy call. It's certainly not a case of just spending loads of money, though if it's spent correctly, it will certainly help!

"Money cannot buy you happiness, but it can buy you a bike, which is the next best thing."

 My current bike is completely hand built by me, from the ground up, wheels included. Every nut and bolt has been put there by me, every bearing has been greased by me. Every component has been chosen by me, and a lifetime of experience has informed those choices. You might look at my bike and think I've done it wrong - why would I put Mountain bike gearing on a road bike, for instance, and the answer is because I built the bike for me, not for you. If I was building a bike for you, it would be to your specifications, not mine. If I felt you could improve something by taking a less obvious route I'd certainly make the suggestion, but the choice would ultimately be your own.
How do you know when a bike is "right" for you?
Whichever cycling forum you go onto, every question you ask will bring forth a million answers, all of them definitive, all of them gleaned from years of experience. It is truly bewildering!
Basically, your bike needs to fit you. The frame has to be the right size and shape, the seat adjusted to the right height and angle, and the gears to do what you need them to do - to get you up those hills! However, just sitting on a bike in Halfords doesn't tell you much. Nor does going to a much more expensive bike shop with a "fitting stand", frankly. There's no real substitute for getting out there and riding your bike to see if it fits. Saddle adjustment can take months! A coupleof millimetres back or forward on the seatpost can make all the difference between a comfy ride and raging sciatica. It really is that critical. You can make adjustments to your reach by moving handlebars up and down and back and forth, but the distance and between saddle and pedal can only be altered by moving the saddle, the pedals stay where they are.

"The bicycle is the only machine which is powered by the passenger."

Clothing: Cycling clothing is notoriously uncool. And expensive. You pay a fortune to look stupid! However, when you're zipping past on your bike, how long does anyone get to gawp at you? Again, the amount of good and bad cycling clobber out there is astonishing when you start to look into it. You soon find out from riding which clothes are Ok and which are not. Your most comfortable pair of jeans suddenly becomes very restrictive when you're trying to get on and off your bike, let alone spin the pedals. That sweatshirt will become unbearably hot at the first incline. 
The basics are this:
you're going to sweat, so fabrics which "wick" sweat away from your body are best.
A few thin layers are better than one thick layer.
Stretchy clothing (like lycra) is easier to move around in, honestly!
Keep your fingers and toes warm - your toes especially will soon become numb in cold weather, because they're not doing anything, and they're exposed to chilly winds. 
There probably is breathable, waterproof kit out there that does work, but I've yet to find it. I prefer instead to wear Windproof stuff, which is breathable, and usually showerproof. If it rains hard, you're going to get wet whatever clothes you're wearing, so my philosophy is to wear stuff that dries off quickly. If it's windproof it will keep the wind chill at bay while it does so.

"The bicycle will accomplish more for women's sensible dress than all the reform movements which have ever been waged."

 

Barmouth by Bike

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Easter Holiday 2012

School holidays. My wife and I both work in schools, so we have the "luxury" of school holidays. It's a double-edged sword. I don't get paid if I don't work. My rate of pay includes "holiday pay", but I can't choose to work over the holiday, because all my workplaces are closed. 

We have just over two weeks in which we have to keep our children stimulated and entertained on a minimal budget. Not easy.

We decided we needed a change of latitude, and as my wife's parents live on a rather lovely part of the North Wales Coast and haven't seen their grandchildren in a long time, and can provide us with free accommodation, we decided to grace them with our presences.

Travelling anywhere from Pembrokeshire is not easy, however you do it, but travelling to North Wales by public transport seemed all but impossible. Train: Pembroke Dock - Swansea, Swansea - Shrewsbury, Shrewsbury - Machynlleth, Machynlleth - Barmouth. Price: extortionate. All we want to do is travel about 100 miles up our coast; do we really need to go via England?

Online journey planners such as Traveline Cymru seem incomplete and do not include buses such as the rather important Traws Cymru, though that could be down to my wife rather than the website.

Eventually, after much searching and researching, we came up with what seemed the optimal travel plan for the family: train to Carmarthen, bus to Aberystwyth, bus to Dolgellau, lift to Barmouth.

My choice was obvious.

However, Barmouth is around 120 bumpy miles away (for bumpy, read "very hilly"). The most I've ever cycled in a day before was just over 100 much flatter miles, and at the end of that I was incapable of any further movement for a few months.

Then again, I'm fitter now than I was then, right? I cycle everywhere. I usually have loaded panniers when I do, sometimes even a trailer draggin' behind me. I didn't really feel convinced, to be honest.

I've driven the coast road many times and "know" it well, though you never know a road well until you ride it. (insert quote)

Preparation:

As I didn't have much time for preparation, I didn't do any. I'm not joking. I put some new wheels on my bike which had just been given to me by a friend. I gave the bike a quick fettle, making sure all the nuts and bolts were tightened, and then spent my time conserving as much energy as possible.  When you've built your bike from the ground up, you have the advantage of knowing where every nut and bolt is. It makes life easier. I'd been riding daily as I commuted to schools to teach safe cycling - the previous week had involved riding out to a remote village school, about 8 miles each way, and towing a trailer with heavy signs, so I was as "warmed up" as I was going to be. To throw in a fifty just for the sake of it would, I felt, just be wasting energy. I know people who will train hard for an event up until a week or so before and then stop and rest for the few days prior to the ride. If I did that, I'd seize up! We're all different. I'm no "athlete", believe me. I don't go in for the "fitness for fitness' sake" ethic, I'm way too lazy. One of the reasons I cycle is that you can get away with minimal effort quite a lot of the time, it's the whole point!

Having done rides of similar length before, I'm very aware of how important the conservation of energy is, and the need to pace the ride correctly. When I estimate a journey time I take 20kmh as an average speed, then factor in stops. This is an important bit to get right, as you don't want to feel "against the clock" at the end of a long journey. I also hoped to meet up with the family en route at Aberystwyth - I had a "window" of about 90 minutes between their bus changes.

I decided that in order to arrive at a reasonable time, and to be able to meet up with the family at the appointed hour, I would have to be out on the road at 4am. OUCH! 

Needless to say, I didn't get any extra sleep the night before.

The Ride:

I was awake in good time. Plentiful tea and a bacon sandwich were enough to get me going, and I left the house at around 4:30am in pitch blackness. Most of the streetlamps were out, and the whole town looked peaceful for once.

A note to anyone who thinks that going out into the darkest hours and riding off on a bike is complete madness: Daybreak is ALWAYS AWESOME! The birdsong is probably the best thing you will ever hear, and as the light grows, so does the noise!

I didn't have much luggage as most of my stuff was being taken with the family. Luxury! Most long rides I do, I'm gone for a few days and need to carry changes of clothing and food etc, so I'm weighed down from the start. All I took with me was:

• emergency toolkit
• first aid kit (including painkillers!)
• lots of chocolate "energy food"
• phone
• ipod
• camera
• GPS
• money
• mobile charger (power monkey) and spare batteries (rechargeable of course)

all of which fit neatly into my rack box. I don't include drinks bottles as luggage, they're just part of the bike. I just take squash. I used to mix up energy powders, but they cost more and there's no appreciable difference I can see. If I just take water, I drink less. Take what works - if you don't like the taste, you're not going to drink it, especially when you've a raging thirst and your bottles are lukewarm.

To travel light, you have to be brutal about what not to take.

Windproof clothing is better than waterproof in my opinion. I've not managed to find any waterproof material which really works, and windproof material dries quick once the rain stops. It's also usually lighter.

Once you're moving, you soon warm up, however cold it is. Just look after your extremities. Fingers and toes soon go numb in the right conditions.

I didn't see daylight till I was heading up into the Preseli hills, about 30km, and when it did appear it was foggy and cold. Only on the top though - it soon warmed up after the descent.

At Cardigan I stopped for a "Full English" - IMHO the very best cycling fuel money can buy. I'd travelled about 40m (65km) on a bacon sandwich. I also needed to get warm. My feet had been numb lumps since before the top of the preselis and getting some feeling back was important.

I knew there'd be little opportunity to stop between Cardigan and Aberystwyth, so a good feed was essential.

The weather was overcast but clear - it didn't look like it would rain, but this is Wales, and rain it will. It started just after Aberaeron, light at first, steadily getting heavier. In Aberystwyth it was chucking it down so I was glad of a sit down with the family in a dry cafe and a few exra cups of tea. It was still raining when I set off again and did so almost all the way to Machynlleth, when the sun popped out again, and stayed out pretty much all the way through Dolgellau, apart from a heavy and cold hailstorm.

See the full gallery on Posterous

There was another brief fall of hail on the estuary road between Dolgellau and Barmouth, but by then I was past caring. The coast road was a struggle against a strong and cold Northerly wind and each kilometre seemed longer than a mile as they ticked slowly over, but I arrived dry and happy, a new Personal Best of 199.3km, according to my GPS.

 

First Audax (Final Part)

Above, or at any rate not here, you have the factual account of my trip to my first Audax and back.

But, what of it?

I guess the questions you're asking are:

1. Why?
2. What did I get from it?
3. Will I be doing it again?

all these answers and more below.

WHY

There are a lot of whys and wherefores. I became interested in Audax because I'm already a long distance cyclist, but it's easy to run out of excuses and destinations for a good long ride. I already know some Randonneurs - Steve and Ted, who both came on this ride, for example. Typically, I joined Audax UK BEFORE I'd actually done one of their rides. I started reading about the history, and about all the various "rules and regulations" (for want of a better phrase) and was fascinated and enthralled enough to just jump straight in.

Why did I not just get myself over to Leicester the easy way and just do the ride? I don't have a motorised vehicle of any kind. My bike is my only carriage. I could have hired a car for the weekend quite cheaply, and driven myself there and back, lodging overnight with Ted, and indeed this option was briefly considered. My original plan, formed while studying opencyclemap.org, when I realised that Steve's new abode was exactly halfway between mine and Ted's homes, was to cycle to Lydney on Friday, from Lydney to Leicester on Saturday, do the Audax on Sunday, then the same in reverse to get back, assuming I had enough stamina. Some paid work came in on the Friday which prevented this, and that's when Steve hatched the plan for us both to travel to Leicester in his van.

While there is always a challenge in riding a 60 mile organised ride, I don't find it much of a challenge, and I hope this doesn't sound like I'm bragging, because I'm not. I can ride 60 miles in relative comfort, and the only way I could make it more of a challenge would be to impose time limits, and that's not how I roll. I ride for enjoyment, pure and simple, and if I'm rushing round a circuit just to beat the clock, the chances are, I won't be enjoying it. So, that's why I like to "go the extra mile" as it were. A couple of years ago I agreed to join a big sponsored ride from London to Cambridge, and circumstances demanded that I cycle there in the end, turning a 50 mile jaunt into a 340 mile 4 day event, and I loved every minute of it. I also love the fact that, if you're not into long distance cycling, you've no idea what I'm talking about. Not a clue, no point of reference. Even long distance walkers have no idea, but if I have to go into the reasons I love cycling, then why are you here?

So basically, I did it because it was there. Somehow I had to get myself and a bike from Pembrokeshire to Leicestershire as cheaply as possible, then back again. I had friends in Gloucestershire, Leicestershire and Cardiff I wanted to see, which further justified the effort.

What did I get out of it - in a single word, freedom. I have a wonderful family with whom I enjoy spending the vast majority of my time, but every now and again, a little solitude is needed. I haven't found anywhere quite a solitary as perched on the seat of a bike yet, so when I "want to be alone", the bike is my companion. Thankfully, my family understands me, and they let me go.

When you cycle all day every day for a few days, you get into a "mindset" which nothing else can bring. Faced with 80 hilly miles, most people wouldn't even cock their leg over the bike, but for me the distance is the attraction. The feeling when you can look back over those 80 miles is like no other. Walking is too slow, you'd never cover that distance in a day. At the end of it, you ache, and you think that maybe tomorrow you'll have to take things a little easier, but it's amazing what cures a few hours of quality sleep can bring on!
When Steve still lived in Pembrokeshire a couple of years ago, we cycled out to the Black Mountain to watch the Tour of Britain come by - one of the wettest rides of my life. As we cycled back we commented wryly that we do this kind of thing "because we enjoy it", and I remember saying what an easily pleased beast the long distance cyclist is - he could be reduced to the coldest, wettest, miserable wretch on the planet, but he turns a corner and finds an open cafe, and instantly he's the happiest man alive! And that's how it is - for every bad moment (and there honestly aren't many) there's a good one just around the corner.

There's the endorphin rush of all that exercise, there's the health benefits of those gallons of oh so fresh air, there's the joy of the bike just singing along the road, there are the breathtaking views, the sweeping descents, the daunting hillclimbs - it all leaves a big fat smile on my face.

Will I be doing it again? Yeah, this weekend, actually!

First Audax (Part Four)

I woke around 7am to a silent house, and got packed up ready to leave Gloucestershire for Wales. Today was to be a much easier ride than the previous two days - 80 hilly miles on the first day followed by 60ish hilly miles in Leics and Rutland had taken its toll on my knees, so all I was doing was following the River Severn down to Cardiff, a nice, flat journey.

I eventually got rolling about 9.30am. It was a much warmer day than the previous two, but overcast and gloomy, with a bit more breeze. Steve had suggested a "scenic" route (euphemism for hilly), but as I wanted to spend some time with a friend in Cardiff, I was conscious of the time, so headed straight along the main A48 to Chepstow. Once through the seething metropolis, I turned off for Caldicot, and wound down some lovely tiny lanes which make up NCN Route 4 to Newport, through the villages and hamlets of Undy and Nash, coming back to so-called civilisation at the Newport Transporter Bridge, which had closed 5 minutes before I got there.

As I re-routed over the next bridge my front tyre punctured, and when I stopped to mend it, I noticed that my pannier rack had lost a bolt. I had a couple of spares in the bolt holes of my forks, so it was soon repaired and I was back on the road. I'd contacted my friend Colin who'd said he would ride out along the coast road to meet me, and despite becoming fairly lost and getting stuck on the horrible A48, I managed to find my way south and meet up with him at St Brides.

We took a leisurely ride into Cardiff, and had a bite to eat on the Lightship in the bay, then I headed off to get a train back to Pembrokeshire.

My GPS reckoned I'd travelled 355km, which is around 220 miles. 20 miles of that was by car while my GPS ws still switched on in the back of Steve's van, so call it a round 200 miles.

Enough to make anyone's knees hurt a bit.

First Audax (Part Three)

The final 20 miles of the Rutland And Beyond Audax were beset with problems.

Steve had toothache, quite badly. He'd also wasted a lot of time and energy due to the loose crank arm. At one point he was just shuffling along with his legs spinning round, trying to stay awake, looking like he wasn't long for this earth.

An experienced cyclist, he knew that most pain and difficulty can be ridden through. He did request that we leave him to it (we all had a "route card" with good directions), but there was no way I was leaving him behind, and there was no way Ted was leaving me behind, etc, so we all took it very gently and eventually cruised home together about 5 minutes before "cut off point", which is when the "crew" pack up and go home.

After a brew, and some sandwiches and cake, we loaded the bikes and stuff into Steve's van and headed back along those oh so boring motorways to Gloucestershire, only breaking down about 25 miles from Steve's place. Somehow we managed to limp off the motorway, down the sliproad and into a pub carpark, where we had a pint, negotiated leaving Steve's van there for the night and waited for his partner to come and rescue us.

When we eventually got back to Steve's house it was 11.30pm. We'd been out since 5.30am. a 16 hour day. Phew.

First Audax (Part Two)

So, day one was fairly uneventful apart from frozen toes and the loss of a front mech. I can't say I slept too well, knowing I had to be up and out by 5:30am - I remember waking with a jolt and the thought process went: "What time is it? Must be somewhere near 5 because it was already fairly near 5 when I went to bed...". It was 2:20am. You'd think after 80 miles of hillsome cycling my need for sleep would keep me there.

Steve very kindly brought me a mug of tea at 5am, and after some more tea and toast, we were off. He'd hoped to have a spare front mech among his bits and pieces, but he didn't, so I was left with minimal gearing. My motto is "If it ain't broke don't fix it" and I was now able to add to that "If it is broke but you can't fix it, just do without it."

I knew exactly where we were going in Leicester, as I'd once occupied a flat just round the corner, and we were there in good time to get a cup of tea and load up on biscuits, unlike my mate Ted, whose club, Leicester Forest CC, were doing the organising. I'd phoned him just as we got there to find he was just dragging himself out of bed. There was a quite staggering turnout for the event, and after registering we stood around in the cold morning air watching the main group of riders set off while we still awaited the arrival of Ted, who turned up nonchalantly about 15 minutes later.

Myself, Steve, Ted, and his friend Martin set off at a leisuely pace about 20 minutes after most of the others had gone. I found the cold air made regular breathing difficult at first, but soon found a rhythm. My feet were still aching from the cold, even more so than yesterday. I discovered when we made the first cafe stop after around 20 miles that my Sealskinz were not actually on my feet, they were in my pannier. I put them on and soon felt the benefit. It had been 5 hours since breakfast. That bacon sandwich was very welcome!

As we'd travelled east from Leicester out to Rutland, the snow on the fields had deepened and the temperature had dropped noticeably. Now we were heading south into Northamptonshire, and the level was maintained. Only one road had been changed on the route, the rest of the roads and lanes were well gritted and pleasantly traffic-free.

Along the middle section Steve's bike developed an annoying and time consuming habit of loosening his left crank arm bolt. No matter how much we tightened it, it would work loose again in a matter of minutes, until we realised there was quite a bit of oil present both on the axle itself and in the threads, so before tightening it, I packed the socket with snow, in the hope that it would repel the oil and supply a little friction to hold the bolt in place, which seemed to do the trick.

(TBC)

 

First Audax (Part One)

Setting off from Pembroke Dock on the 7am train to Carmarthen, it was a dark morning, bitterly cold. The train arrived in Carmarthen on time around 8:30am, but did some last minute shopping in Tesco before setting off, which delayed my by about an hour, so at 9:30am I set out along NCN Route 47, a familiar route I have taken a number of times before; quite level most of the way as it follows the course of the river. Sun was shining, but despite having 4 good layers on my feet (tights, sealskinz, shoes and overshoes) my toes were still painfully cold. No photos as my camera decided to tell me there was a "card error".

At Llandovery I stopped for a bacon sandwich and cup of tea before pressing on up the A40 to Brecon, where I phoned ahead to arrange a rendezvous place with Steve, and pressed straight on for Abergavenny.

We met up without problems and had a cup of tea. Steve's van was parked at Monmouth, so we were to cycle there, a further 20 miles or so.

As we started the first hill out of Abergavenny, there was a crunching of gears, my chain came apart and closer inspection showed my front mech to be mangled and twisted beyond repair. I took it off, repaired the chain, and we were soon moving again, with my chain on the smallest ring to accomodate the hills.

It was dark well before we made it to Monmouth, then we (thankfully) drove the last 20 miles through the Forest of Dean.

I was struggling on the hills by the end, and my knees, particularly the left, were quite sore and painful, which I put down to the extreme cold and an accident I'd had a couple of weeks previously.

Dinner of macaroni cheese and mashed potato washed down with a bottle of Weston's Cider. Mmm.

Bed at 11, to be up at 5 the following morning.

(TBC)

Audaxity

Yes, I know.

I joined Audax UK back in December, just before Christmas.

It seemed like the logical next step, joining a group of amateur enthusiasts, all intent on riding as far as they possibly can, at feasible speeds. I already know a few "randonneurs" anyway.

The first Audax I've signed up for is on 12th February. 10 days away.

It's a 100k ride (I now have to think in kilometres rather than miles, which will be a bit of a challenge for a while).

It's in Leicester, which is around 250 miles away from where I live.

I have a friend who lives halfway.

The original "plan" was to ride from here to Gloucestershire on Friday, stay with friend, then ride from Gloucs to Leics on Saturday, do the ride on the Sunday, and return in the same fashion over Monday and Tuesday.

Then some work came in on the Friday.

Plan B is to cycle to Gloucs on Saturday, and stay with friend, who will then drive us both to Leicester very early on the Sunday morning, and we will ride together (plus Leicester friend), returning to Gloucs in the evening, so I can cycle back to Pembrokeshire on Monday.

This will cover around 300 miles (er, 420k or thereabouts, I think...) over 3 days.

That should wake me up!