Thought I ought to add my account of what was a highly memorable ride...
I saw this ride in the calendar way back in June, shortly after discovering the joys of Audaxing. I figured it to be a birthday treat, coinciding as it did with the 35th anniversary of my emergence into the world.
With my folks living just down the road in Inskip and offering free use of their sofa, I opted to travel up late on Thursday and try to sleep as late as possible on the Friday. In reality, this meant me arriving at about 3am and sleeping (fitfully) until 8am, with too much nervous excitement to get any cat naps in before the start. Oh well, at least I was in a relaxed environment and able to keep well fed and hydrated, unlike my riding partner, who battled north from Swindon through 6 hours of heavy traffic, to arrive in Lancashire around 5pm.
After a good feed of pasta, we drove to Bispham to meet our fellow riders. There was definitely an air of nervous tension, but everyone seemed in good spirits and its always fun to marvel at the variety of bike on display. Of particular interest were people's lighting set ups. I, rather rashly, risked only a single front light (Fenix BC30 with spare cells) and 3 rears. Most had at least one back up and some had enough to floodlight Wembley!
Our timing was excellent, as the soft rain died away just before the start, leaving us only with damp roads to contend with. The temperature was positively balmy, but I still opted for leg warmers and a long sleeved jersey plus gilet, as the relaxed pace kept my body temperature modest at best.
The group stuck more or less together until we hit the A6 after Lancaster, then began to slowly string out as people stopped for a pee/food and the odd climb appeared. I was really quite enjoying myself, nibbling Revels from my top tube bag and swigging lemon electrolytes from my bidons. Despite the lack of sleep, the yawns were kept at bay for the time being.
Our first major obstacle came in the form of Shap Fell. The climb was a nice opportunity to generate some body heat, but sadly this was negated by the thick, damp clag surrounding us. With my glasses properly fogged, I was more or less trusting to The Force to stay on the road and away from potholes. Thankfully, the fog was limited to altitude and soon cleared as we descended, although I was struggling with cold after becoming damp through exhertion and the mist.
Our first control was Penrith, where the all night Esso provided temporary refuge. The bloke running the shop seemed to take this bunch of nutters in his stride and was brilliant in allowing us to loiter in the warmth while we snaffled sarnies, coffee, red bull and god knows what other junk to fuel us onwards.
The next leg was short 20 odd mile blast to Carlisle and an all night Asda. We were treated to several kicking out time spectacles in the town centre, including a number of totally comatose revellers and a bit of handbags at (pre) dawn. We did get a few incoherent shouts in our direction, but nothing too threatening. At Asda, i discovered I'd lost/forgotten my chamois cream and bought some Sudocrem, along with some more beige crap to keep the fires burning.
Carlisle marked the end of the A roads for a while, with the B7076 seeing us safely to Gretna Green, where we took the obligatory snaps at the border sign. We now had a pretty long slog to the next control at Abington, with a pretty long uphill slog on some crap road surfaces. My companion started to suffer as dawn broke around us and we slowed pretty much to a crawl. To be honest I was a bit frustrated as I was still feeling strong and was yearning for a dirty fry up at the services at Abington. Still, we stuck together and my mate rallied as the sky got lighter and the climbing abated.
Within a few minutes of our arrival, the lead group were heading back out, but we opted for a leisurely stop and a 20 minute catnap to allow the grease to start working its way through. We could have had longer, were it not for the PAINFULLY slow service! After our snooze, my buddy was just preparing to nip to the loo for a cheeky download when the fire alarm went off! Fortunately we were able to gather all our stuff before being hustled out, but my poor mate still needed to offload before departure. Fortunately, there was a loo in the on site petrol station, but lots of others had the same idea and we lost a good 20 minutes as he queued for the reportedly horrific facilities.
So, onwards to the turnaround point in Glasgow. It was as we left Abington that it became obvious that we were getting a pretty healthy tailwind and were mainly descending the last 50km. I'd be lying if I said the return leg wasn't starting to play on my mind, but enjoyed the fast miles while I could, despite varying quality of the road surface. (Thankfully there were some great cycle paths to be had.) All was going well until Hamilton, where the traffic lights smashed our average speed to pieces! Truth be told, the final few miles to the control were a misery, as was the control itself, where the clientèle seemed to consist mainly of mutants! My bike had also developed a worryingly noisy rear wheel, so after a feed, it was with some trepidation that we began the Southbound leg.
We now faced not only the traffic lights and a more or less relentless climb back to Abington, but a pretty toothsome headwind. Only a few miles into the return journey, my compadre really hit the wall and we were crawling again. I stuck with him for as long as I could bear, but I'll freely admit that I'm a very selfish rider and when he couldn't hold my wheel at 9mph on the flat my frustration took over and I suggested that we split. I'm pretty sure he wasn't delighted at the thought, but we had pre-agreed that we might end up splitting and the thought of the lost time was killing me; I wanted to get back to Abington where I'd booked us a room for a few hours kip and we were hemorrhaging sleep time! Anyway, after waiting at the top of a climb somewhere near Hamilton, he finally told me to push on, which I did, despite a twinge of guilt. I started to really enjoy the ride again, treating the wind, gradient and crap roads as adversaries that I would overcome no matter what. My morale soared as the miles began to tick by again, in spite of the difficulty. Before long, I caught sight of another rider in the distance and made winding him in a target. I caught him about 5 miles before Abington, then eased off and rode with him back into the control, where I gladly checked into the hotel and texted my mate the room details before having a glorious shower and collapsing into bed where I passed out immediately.
Three hours of blissful sleep later, I woke to find my riding partner readying to leave. He'd arrived about an hour after me, and felt a bit better, but wanted to get a head start. I opted for another half an hour in bed, before a quick once over of the bike (still noisy) and a massive plate of Steak Pie with chips and gravy. As I left, the darkness was once again closing in, but I felt fresh and motivated to catch my mate, so set off at a fair old lick, aided by a goodly reduction in the strength of the headwind. Even though I knew he'd be a fair way up the road, as time went on, I began to get more and more annoyed every time I crested a rise or rounded a bend and couldn't see any tail lights. I wouldn't say I hallucinated exactly, but its surprising what you can interpret as a distant cyclist when thats all you want to see! Eventually, I did spot not one set, but probably a dozen in the far distance. With renewed vigour I gave chase and finally caught up near Lockerbie to join a mini peleton who were trundling along with my mate on the front. With spirits once again high, I enjoyed their company for 20 minutes or so, then pushed on again, hoping to get to the next control in Longtown in time to find an open food outlet. In the event, I found a kebab shop in Gretna, where I spent a fair amount of time explaining to the proprietors just what the hell I was up to over cheesy chips with mayo and a coke. I probably spent a good 50 minutes there before pushing on to Longtown, once again catching the group I'd left after Lockerbie, who'd obviously passed while I scoffed.
After a quick ATM control in Longtown, I set off on the short hop to Penrith, where sleep deprivation began to catch up with me, to the point where I actually tried for a room in the Premier Inn. With hindsight, it was probably a good thing that they had none as I might not have got going again, but the miserable sod on the desk wouldn't even let me sit in reception for a snooze. Ah well, our friendly Esso garage attendant saved the day and let me slump inside for a few minutes while I waited for the pro-plus to kick in. To my surprise, the group who I'd imagined to be way out in front then arrived, having slept in a field in Longtown (I think). With the caffeine kicking in though, I bade them farewell as I wanted to get Shap Fell out of the way and ultimately, get this thing finished!
Despite breaking a rear spoke shortly after leaving, I was feeling pretty good up until the descent off Shap, where both temperature and morale plummeted. I threw myself a cracking little one man pity-party as I rode through Kendal, just wanting more than anything to get off this bike which had come to feel like an instrument of torture! (My Brooks Swift Saddle, which previously had been great, was really giving my arse a pasting by now. Is it possible for it to be worn in too much?) Time slowed to a crawl and I resorted to some music for the first time on the ride. A mix of late 90's pop punk (yeah, I know, pathetic) saw me into the truck stop at Carnforth, where the absolute legend of a bloke in the shop found me a chair where I passed out for 20 minutes or so. I doubt he realised just how much he helped me, but I was pathetically grateful for that chair!
With the knowledge that dawn wasn't too far away, plus a flat run back to the finish, I set off like a scalded cat, trying and failing not to obsess about ticking off each mile. Dawn broke shortly before Lancaster, but I was so thoroughly ruined by now that I took little pleasure in the emerging view of the Bowland Fells and the pancake flat run to the coast over the marshlands of the Fylde. My mood only lifted when I finally crossed the River Wyre to roll the final handful of miles into the home control at Bispham. On speaking to Andy, I learned that I was only the 2nd rider home, half an hour or so after the 1st. Andy had been there all night, expecting us to have been trickling in from shortly after midnight! And there was I being delighted with a 33.5 hour finishing time!
A few days later, all the pain has faded sufficiently to view the event for what it was; a thoroughly enjoyable, if gruelling, challenge. Riding through 2 nights on little sleep really pushed me, but I was always able to dig in and find something extra when needed. I learned that I really don't mind headwinds or climbing, but that I need to be able to go at my own pace to avoid building frustration. This would extend to the shoe being on the other foot; I'd much rather faster riders left me to plod through a low patch than feel guilty for holding them back.
Overall, a cracking event for my first 600!
n.b. My mate finished about 2 hours after me. A cracking effort, given that I honestly thought he was going to pack it in on the return journey!