Well, that was er interesting.
Of course in hindsight it all seems like great fun but it's a tough ride at this time of year, made more complicated by trying to work out the rules in the wee small hours.
Speaking of rules, I must report a serious transgression in the ACME Anvil team. Some people just will not follow simple instructions. The helpfully translated page on the ACP website clearly reads:
- Riding the longest possible distance in 24 hours,
despite limited preparation...
I put a lot of time and very little effort into not preparing for the Arrow. Sadly, my team mates flagrantly disregarded this rule and turned up looking fit with thousands of km in their legs. My wingman, Three Buffs, did try to make up for this by getting very little sleep on Thursday night but it didn't seem to slow him down. The Straggler and Sid James didn't even try to hide their excellent form.
Our ride started where every ride should start, in a pub with breakfast. I knew I was in for a long day when I gave my team mates my carefully prepared crib sheets with distances, control times, stopping times etc. When they had stopped laughing and pointing they reminded me that I was only in charge of the entry form and that I should leave the actual plan to our road captains; the Straggler and Sid. I am not sure whether this or the fact that I had finished setting up my new bike, complete with untested dynohub lighting, the day before amused them more. It's nice to be useful. Anyway, I had the last laugh on the crib sheet...
40km into the ride we reached our first control at Clare. This was supposed to be a quick visit to the Co-op but we had just come out to retrieve our bikes when a man appeared carrying a large cross with a big group behind him. This, it transpired, was a march of witness. It was also stopping right where our bikes were. Several speakers and about 15 minutes later the cross was lifted up again and off they went. It held us up but at least it was a bit of Easter.
The rest of Friday is a bit of a blur of headwinds, fens, rain, indigestion, self doubt and poor banter (mainly Sid on the poor banter and, come to think of it, his 5 bean chilli at Whittlesey may have been a contributing factor to the headwinds as well).
So it was that we reached Sleaford for what was supposed to be our longest stop of the ride. By this time some panic was beginning to form in our minds about how late we were and how far we had to go. I barely had time to treat the good burghers of Sleaford to me changing my socks in the 'Spoons before we were heading up the A15 to Lincoln. The leg from Lincoln was to mark the revenge of the crib sheet. Lincoln to Brigg was 29km on our crib sheet, our entry form and on our planned timings. In the real world it is 39km. How my team mates enjoyed that realisation. Now we were really worried.
Fortunately we had the Shangri La of the services at Brigg to look forward to. By Sid's description we were expecting linen table cloths and Michelin starred fare at Audax prices. I'm not saying it wasn't like that because we didn't actually find the services and ended up with the usual huddle next to the cold shelves in a 24 hour garage.
Maths was never my strong suit and more so at 3 in the morning. I was doing all kinds of computations in my head about how we could complete the Arrow on the ride between Brigg and Beverley when we passed a
sign that read Humber Bridge 8 Beverley 20. I couldn't believe it, there was no way we could ride 28 miles to our next control and still be in time, I was expecting about 20 miles. I was just about to announce the almost certain failure of our quest when we passed another road sign and I realised what I had done
At that point I decided a bit of work on the front would not only be polite but possibly a better use of my energy. Then we saw the first rays of dawn and everything seemed better again, until we reached the long drag out of Beverley.
Fortunately things flattened out and the rest of the ride was an enjoyable meander through to the fine City of York.
It was great to meet up with the other ACME teams at the Postern Gate, even if they did look a bit smug after a night's sleep.
Thank you to my team mates for dragging me round. I will be better prepared for forthcoming rides.
Thank you to the organiser as well. If my pile of receipts is typical, you still have a job of work ahead.
