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!
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