Well, that was blooming hard. only been doing enough this year to keep my RRtY going, so one 200 each month, with a 100 and a 200 ECE tagged onto 200's in Jan and Mar. I didn't even make the effort to lose weight, as I thought it was gonna be easier than the Mille Cymru (it wasn't, thanks Andy!).
Before the event, it was nice to share the train journey with Joolz, and even meet fellow audaxers at 'spoons. I am partial to their veggie curry, but wasn't expecting it to be dearer up north! Seeing some took into the superfood meal made me wonder if I'd made the right choice. Cycled to my hotel in the rain after only two pints, for an early sleep.
Day 1: Awoke earlier than I wanted (5-ish). All packed and in reception at 8am (when it should open). No-one there. Bike visible inside the locked bar/pool room. 8:15 someone arrives for work and lets me retrieve my bike. Begins to rain as I start my 5 mile ride to the start, but it soon stops. Weetabix, toast, two coffees and a chat before the start. I had planned on not doing 30 kph to the first control (as I sometimes do) but the group was rolling along nicely, and it was good chatting to people. Disaster struck when we singled to pass parked cars and an oncoming tractor. After I'd singled the front of the pack seemed to suddenly slow. I thought I'd braked just enough not to touch wheels with the guy in front, and not too hard to catch the guy out behind. I was wrong, and even brought down the guy in front, a slow topple over. I was ashamed (my first time) and sorry for the bloke. He said he was ok, and I really hope he was. The ride up to Winlatter was ok, the rain wasn't (and why I'd considered DNS). Café was full. I fancied soup, went for the meal deal. After the sarnie, I was told no soup. Heart sank. Rode with Diesel through Seascale and the passes. I would have preferred a slightly rougher surface when out of the saddle or zig-zagging. I always go with the plan of getting my breathing under control before a climb, then keeping it that way. On both climbs I lost it, could feel the old ticker beating hard, so walked to the tops. I think we arrived back at Askrigg around 2:30am. I really enjoyed three bowls of pasta, shower and change. Then it was one hours kip on the carpet, no blanket, then 30 mins on a mattress.
Day 2: Weetabix, toast and coffee. Diesel was raring to go. I'd been told the day started with a climb, so was letting my breakfast settle. Didn't enjoy the early climbing (would have on my carbon with no luggage). Great views. Met the Selby CC couple who were talking of packing at Barnard Castle. I tried to talk them out of it, at least get through day 2. I didn't feel like eating at Barnard, just a coffee and cake (easier to digest), but they all went for breakfasts, so I had a (very nice, but couldn't finish it) veggie breakfast and tea. We left the Selby couple there and made our hilly way to Stanhope. I just had a drink there, but Diesel stopped to eat. I rode up the steep hill out of Stanhope at around control closing time. At the top I saw Karl heading down. He told of Sully's problem, and I made the mistake of offering a cable (it was probably quicker for them to go back to Stanhope, assuming there was a bike shop there). Sully had said gears, then we were looking at the brake nipple in the hood. I left them with a brake cable as a bloke at the house we stopped by came to help. They needed pliers and I'd decided to do without them on this trip. As I rode with the crosswind. I realised I'd left the wrong cable. I did think of carrying on, but I'd given them hope, so returned with the gear one (discovered at the finish it was useless, as "universal" covers Shimano and hybrid, but not Campag). Lonesome windy rainy hilly ride towards Kielder, yo-yo-ing with fixie James towards the control. I arrived first, disheartened the shop was shut. Saw the four, and the pub sign. Had soup, whilst watching them down their pints, tuck into their pub grub, and talk of staying there the night. I was sorely tempted to stop, but I'm stubborn. My only DNF was a mechanical. I said I wasn't tired, and the good thing about night riding is the wind drops (ha ha!). One of the four (sorry, I forget names easily, but I did recognise you) said there was a shop 15 miles away in the next town (I really should look at routes before an event). Think I left the pub about 30 mins inside control closing, without seeing James. Newcastleton was alive with people at one end, all out to see the Royal British Legion Pipe Band. Bought batteries (the spares I brought weren't lasting), Spar isotonic drink, and a nice tasting Kenco macchiato coffee at the shop, and listened to the band down the street. The Spar man said they were finally marching. I cycled down the street, and realised, and realised they'd gone into the one I needed. I stopped and hovered around awhile, eventually walking my bike through the crowds, remounting, and facing the climb ahead. I could hear them playing again as I rode up the hill. I didn't know Diesel wasn't far behind me. I hated the top. It was still windy. You wind your way along, and there were a couple of dead straight bits due west, right into the wind. I remember descending the first time, thinking it was over, looking for the road below, but only seeing one zig-zag up the next hill. If I studied the route and my atlas sections I brought, I'd know how many climbs I faced, so wouldn't get demoralised. Lockerbie took an absolute age. ATM receipt, I carried on my lonely way to Penrith. I still felt ok, surviving on HI5 energy drink and body fat. The descent from Lockerbie was fast. I saw several groups of (audaxers?) cycling the other way. Tiredness was sinking in a bit. I saw a light approaching behind me, and a McD sign ahead. I thought of stopping, but carried on. The light behind had vanished. Stopped in the centre for an atm receipt. Texted the wife on the outskirts to say I'd gone through Penrith (She like s me to text at the controls, even at night, so if she wakes up she knows I'm still moving). Got to a roundabout. "A6 Penrith 15 miles". Heart sank. I'd just gone through Carlisle. Onto the A6. Light behind. Stopped. It was James. He's stopped at McD and still caught me. I'd been singing to keep awake, so it was good to chat to someone. Think it took 90 mins to do the 15 miles to Penrith. After there James stopped for a kip in an inviting BT booth. I carried on, singing what bits of songs I knew again. Birds were beginning the dawn chorus, and it was nice seeing the sun come up. I meant to take a pic of my brevet before handing it in (for the times), but I think I arrived before 7am. No pasta available this time, but the lady (sorry again for no name knowledge) heated up rice pudding. Thought it better this time to sleep in my clothes, found a camping mattress and a thin sheet. Set my alarm for 90 mins, but awoke after 30, to an emptying hall.
Finish this later......