Bealach Mor 2013 Report
I have to say I was a bit worried about doing the ride. It involved more miles and vastly more climbing than I've ever done before. I have done sportives before though and did have a fancy new (to me) bike and a secret weapon - a new 12-30 cassette. I hoped that that, together with my compact chainset would allow me to take on all the hills, even The Big One.
We arrived in good time having enjoyed a hearty breakfast at the B&B in nearby Garve and got down to the start all kitted up without hitch.
I immediately noticed two things. 1. Midges! Clouds of them! Gaah! I'd abandoned my Skin-so-soft the night before in the name of travelling light. They were a nightmare! 2. Everyone seemed to be wearing more clothes than me, essentially in (cycling) shorts and (fancy merino) t-shirt. Most had arms and legs fully covered. In retrospect I realise this may have been to keep damn midges at bay. At the time I feared the cold up the hills may be my undoing.
I did have a waterproof though and about 20 minutes into the ride I'd given up hoping that it was just a shower and duly donned it, fearing I'd overheat. No chance. Right up to the start of the Bealach Mor (the 6 miles, 2000ft climb in the middle of the ride) it poured with chilling rain. The first food stop was a very brief affair to neck half a banana and top up the water bottles.
And so to the big climb. I'd seen that someone had scored it 11 out of 10 on the scale of difficulty (?) when it comes to road climbs in the UK. The week before I'd done the Glen Quaich road from Amulree to Kenmore (and back again) and that had been the hardest climb I'd ever done. But now I had my secret weapon... It was pretty gentle to start with but got steeper as it went on though rarely steep enough to need to get out of the saddle. I'd saved myself for the hairpins at the top but just as we entered them someone said "we're past the worst of it". To be honest he was probably right as before I knew it I was peeking over the top, slightly worried it was a false summit.
Looking back, the weather had been near perfect for the climb, either still or even a tailwind in places. I dibbed in at the top and braced myself against the driving rain and started the descent. I soon had to stop though as my headset wad worked loose enough to knock and I had to tighten it up, again. So much for my new headset locker thing.
I often prefer a climb to the descent and this was no different. The wind and rain removing any sense of security the traffic free road may have provided. But I got down without further incident, finally enjoying some of the more open and undulating sections before the second food stop appeared.
I took a bit more time this time, again filling up on water and banana but enjoying the flapjack and banter this time too. Very soon my race partner arrived having made up most of the different in our climb times by making a heroic descent. He knows the road pretty well, that's my excuse. He figured he'd be taking it easier than me for the rest of the day so I set off again on my own.
Soon the rain stopped though the hills I'd been warned about never did. But I was feeling OK, pretty strong even. A few guys caught me and rode in formation for a while. I've done this so infrequently though that I worry about the etiquette of signalling and taking turns etc. I enjoyed the relative ease of riding for a while at the back of the pack, eventually deciding to take my place at the front as we hit another hill. By time I'd reached the top and started the descent I looked back in horror to find I'd lost them all! This certainly wasn't the plan!
Eventually the sun came out and I was delighted to take my waterproof off and cram it in my back pocket. I was less happy when I went to grab some food only to find the cupboard (pocket) bare! Not to worry, the last food stop couldn't be too far and I had a (practically impenetrable) bag of energy jelly beans in another pocket. This, it turned out, was to be the least of my troubles. I rolled happily up and down the hills, enjoying the sunshine and stunning scenery until the inevitable happened. Midges! Clouds of them! My only comfort was knowing I wouldn't have taken the repellent on the ride even if it had had it with me. I guess the constant swatting them off my arms, legs and face distracted me from my burning legs. Gaah!
The food stop was, quite predictably, farther away than I'd thought. Not far enough to justify stopping and trying to get into the jelly beans though. More banana, flapjack and water and I was ready to go again. I was still feeling pretty good. I'd found another energy bar in my saddle bag and took yet another banana. This was going to be OK I thought....
I passed a guy on the sharp climb out of the village, stopped to water the plants and then passed him again, maybe even one or two others. All I had in my head was “gentle descent into Kinlockewe” so hammered up the climbs thinking each one was the last. I saw a sign saying it was 10 miles to the end but by this time it was getting hard. What I didn't know about then was that I had a gentle but relentless climb for the next 5 miles. And there was a head wind. It was hellish.
The guy I'd passed earlier caught and passed me but in a way that made me think it wouldn't be rude to hang on his tail for a while. In the end we took turns drafting each other for about 20 minutes. Unfortunately I think he took me looking back just to see if he was still there as a signal to take the lead again. He did so anyway but as I passed to take my turn he said he was burned and would have to drop back. He thanked me as if I'd done him a favour! I tried to get him to reconsider and mumbled my thanks and battled on, head down, in the drops for the few remaining miles to the top of the climb. Afraid of a false peak I just rode on at a steady pace. I nearly caught a guy but thought it was a bit ride to pass someone at this late stage so let him go. No-one had passed me all afternoon and I liked that.
And then someone passed me, hammered past, and then another guy. And then another. And not just anyone this time, it was the guy I'd been riding with half an hour before. Basterd! I could have tried to catch them but, well, it's not a race, and to be honest there wasn't much left in the tank anyway. I did pass the guy I'd been following though...
And it was all over. I was utterly shattered. I handed my dibber in to find I'd done it in 6 hours 20 minutes. And I'd done the climb in 41 minutes. Whatever. I needed cake. And coffee, and stew, and crisps, and tea, and...eventually, I was just about human again. Michael came in before the 7 hour mark pretty happy to have set a time to beat next time. He'd tried to do the ride three times previously but circumstances hadn't allowed.
I'd said to Michael that morning that I just wanted to feel like I'd done it as fast as I could, I wasn't bothered about my time or placing. I'd definitely achieved that. But one of the first things I did when I got home was get the results into a spreadsheet so I could see how I fared compared to others. I was delighted to find I'd come 138 out of 299 entrants (18 of whom didn't finish). That's in the top half! And in the big climb I was 101st!
Buying that new cassette was probably the best decision I've ever made.
