My Ride Report:
Yellowbelly Tour 200km, with added DIYs.Friday 13th – Sunday 15th March was a planned antidote to running my Horsepower 200 the weekend before, when my helpers and I were mostly indoors, tending to riders’ needs on a glorious sunny, mild spring day [though some did get out for a ride in the middle of the day]. Having re-scheduled Mothering Sunday to the weekend before, I had a pass for three days away, so planned to ride up to Lincolnshire for the ‘Yellowbelly Tour’ 200km via a couple of DIY 200s. I aimed to ride fixed as usual and carry lightweight camping gear, as a test ride for getting to Paris in August. I left the gearing at 72”, to see how it would be on the very few hills on the route. There is a ten-percenter on the run back near Warboys that I was anticipating walking, with over 350 miles in my legs.
Chasing my shadow across to Sleaford
The route north from Essex is a well beaten path for me – there is only one really good, direct road north across the Fens, the B1040 from St Ives via Thorney to Spalding, that tends to get used for trips to the York Rally, on Easter Arrows and my own ‘Flatlands’ 600km. A little dog-leg across to Newark via Ancaster got the distance right and I only had to arrange for a tail wind each way. However, the fickle Flatland weather had other ideas, as usual!
The wind was kind at first, but soon swung round to the north-east. Bashing up the B1040 from Thorney, head down, on the drops, I saw some familiar red leggings approaching at speed: Steve Abraham! A quick ‘hi’ and on we went. Steve’s been past my front door several times already [when I was either out, or still asleep!] on his ‘One Year Time Trial’. I’ve ridden a bit with him on our Horsepower ‘Helpers’ Ride’ at the end of February, but I couldn’t contain my excitement and had to stop and send a couple of texts! After turning at Sleaford I headed to the lanes for some bonus kilometres, to keep me off the A153 at rush hour, and arrived in time for Fish and Chips and a pint at the Sir John Arderne [Wetherspoons] in Newark. Then up to Stapleford Woods for the full ‘Bear Grylls’ experience and an early night.
Saturday morning dawned colder and greyer, but at least with lighter winds, however that was to change and not all in a good way…I was the first at the village hall in Carlton-le-Moorland and able to chat with organiser Richard Parker, while tucking into the breakfast mountain. Richard and I hadn’t met before, though he was the first to ride my permanent ‘Flatliner’ 600km and we’d corresponded for a while about a cunning plan to run a 1000km in 2016. I chatted to several riders, but also met some of the East Anglian ‘usual suspects’ including Jonathan Greenway from Norwich and fellow fixie, Mick Bates from King’s Lynn.
More than 80 riders started, including a tandem, an ElliptiGo and at least two others on fixed. As the day brightened up, so the wind gathered strength from the NE again and we were in for a hard day on the Fens. From Billingborough we turned in to the wind and headed for a cruel and unforgiving landscape: no shelter or landmarks, and the endless skies and horizons that are either the curse or joy of the Fens, depending on mood and weather. I needed to take things easy and go for a full value day out, to save myself for the return ride on the Monday, but that 100km had me pushing hard and trimming time at controls, by skipping the café options in favour of shop sandwiches. Sitting on a bench in the sun at Coningsby and suddenly I hear a cry of ‘There’s Steve!’ and sure enough, the legend came past. I had the briefest of conversations while he waited at the T junction: he’d come north in the hope of seeing riders [apparently riding with some and chatting to others in a café] and was now turning with the wind behind for the afternoon. Spotted two days running and completely unplanned!
Sunnies on and a tailwind!
Sunset over Lincoln
This eastern corner of the Lincolnshire Fens was completely new to me, and I did try to appreciate it, but as anyone who has battled the wind will know, you tend to sink into a state of grim persistence and play mind games to get you through. An incident that really made my day: approaching Friskney a bright red chavmobile slowed and the window wound down. Wondering what object or abuse might come out I held my breath only to hear the fellow call out: “Watch out mate, there’s broken glass on the road up there”. But of course! This is Lincolnshire, not Essex; three cheers for the Yellowbellied chav! My mood improved further after turning at Burgh-le-Marsh and I enjoyed the rolling route through pretty villages and towns like Spilsby and Horncastle, in the late afternoon sun. The sunset ride along the River Witham cycle path was a final treat, with a view of Lincoln Cathedral on the horizon. After more chat and refuelling at the finish I headed back out to the woods. Again the wind had dropped, so very quiet and peaceful.
On Mothering Sunday [the ‘Ides of March’] I planned an early start to use the A153 while it was quiet and get the into-the-wind section done. Newark was pleasant to potter round in the morning twilight before anyone was awake. Another handsome and characterful town to explore properly some day. I had to divert south of Claypole because of continuing overnight work on the level crossing, but no matter, still pleasant countryside and very quiet lanes. At Ancaster the garage was open and the A153 was ok, just the odd vehicle. Arriving at the ‘Packhorse Inn’ at Sleaford, [habitual half-time stop on Essex Easter Arrows] just before opening I had time to text my wife and family and do some general faffing before tucking into their famed Large Breakfast. [At 1400+ calories responsible, according to the tabloids, for the obesity crisis.] A good hour was spent there, but at least from then on the wind would mostly be behind me and I could make up some time.
Down to Spalding the road turns south, then east several times, so it was a mixed bag of head and cross/tail winds, but once there I decided on the more interesting 2013 LEL route along the River Welland to Crowland and its three-way medieval packhorse bridge, marooned without its rivers. A brisk run down to St Ives followed, with a final feed at Greggs, strangely devoid of mums – all the other cafes were full of families and their matriarchs, but then unless your mother was an audaxer, would you ever ‘treat’ her to Greggs? At last some shelter when I briefly turned into the wind here and there. South Cambridgeshire and North Essex has hedges, and woods and even a few hills! The Warboys 10% hill turned out to be relatively easy, though no doubt the wind helped, and I arrived home shortly after dark.
My average speed hadn’t varied much for the whole three days: consciously keeping it down on day one, traveling lighter, but with stronger winds on day two and trying to take it easy again on day three, though with a helpful tailwind, at least 70% of the time. The extra weight didn’t feel too bad and everything on the bike behaved well, just a tweak of the chain tension every day and no rain to wash the oil off either. So, not really as fast as I would normally ride an audax, more like touring pace, but still with fairly short stops, the big breakfast on day three excepted…Despite the wind and the lower temperatures than the previous weekend, the weather was kind, with no rain and little drop in temperature at night too. Clouds threatened rain with a few spots on Sunday, with wet roads at home, but lots of sunshine on the other two days. I didn’t need to think about my wimp-out options of Travelodge and train!
