And now, the RR:
We got up at 4.45am with the intention of leaving around 5.30 for the 6 mile or so ride to the start. There was one hill on the route so it wasn't too bad to get there. Unfortunately, as we rattled along at about 25kph my back tyre bottomed out and there was a pop and a hiss and I was flat in about 3s. So I had to swap a new tube and learn how to inflate it with CO2, which worked fortunately.
So with that and a slightly late departure we didn't set off til 6.30, and as soon as the first climb came (about half a mile into the ride) jo was long gone. Lots of people were passing me on the climb but I felt happy to settle down and just pace myself. The next section was flat round through Ambleside and out the other side. I stretched my legs a bit up to about 32kph and passed a couple of riders; one swung out into my slipstream but couldn't hold on.
Then we turned left for the Kirkstone Pass climb and it got properly hilly. This was quite a long climb with a significant gradient most of the way, and I spent all the time in the granny ring. There was a young Scottish lass in a Tunnocks top who I chatted to a bit on the climb - she had been cheating, living in Kendal so having access to Real Hills. I noticed that the overtaking had all stopped now, though I didn't see anyone using 24". Going over the top was great - there was a real Alpine feel due to the cowbells being rung by supporters who had driven up there. The top had a few people having a rest. The views, of course, were stunning.
The Tunnocks lady vanished more rapidly down the descent than I could do. It was a great run - smooth surface, and not too many sharp corners. I had to brake very hard for a corner that came up suddenly as I couldn't see the exit. Once I got down to the bottom I checked the max speed - 74.8kph. We then ran along beside a lake for a long, flat stretch and I managed to pick up a tow so we hooned along at about 30kph for miles. Suddenly the road turned left and we started climbing again. I chatted to a bloke who was complaining about being slow cos he'd had flu. He was the guy I'd got a tow off on the flat bit.
I saw someone walking at this stage. It was still quite early and this seemed a bit surprising. However the climb was actually steeper than it seemed at the time, I later discovered.
Once we crested that, we turned left onto the A66 for a real charge down to Keswick. Although this is a major road, traffic wasn't a problem and the going was very easy. Soon we turned left round the edge of the town and into Borrowdale, for more views and another lake on the right. It was flat for a long time, but I had a "SUM" waypoint next (summit). I wasn't sure which climb it was until we got to the start - it was Honister.
The road kicks up and bends round to the left at the start. As I started the climb, the guy in front had a loud metallic pop from his back wheel. As I honked past, it was obvious what the problem was - that spoke wasn't where it should be. Oh dear. I wonder if he finished? More people were walking now, and I also saw someone fall over on the climb near the bottom. I was now maxed out at about 7kph, it was just a matter of keeping it turning over. A car overtook me then started reversing down the middle of the road back towards me to shouts of "get on with it!" and "bloody idiot!" from spectators. This saved me the effort of telling them myself.
The top duly arrived, and signs warned of a 25% descent. This was when I discovered that staying on the hoods meant I could barely control my speed and I was running out of hand strength. I had to wait for a safe moment to shift my hands to the drops and then I felt much more comfortable. I found out later someone was helicoptered away after being taken out by a faster cyclist...
At the bottom is the first feed stop/control (52 miles). No sign of jwo but he wasn't that far ahead it turns out - maybe 5-10 minutes. He's a faster climber but I am a faster descender. However he had a stamp and go whereas I was there for 15-20 minutes, eating, going to the loo and sorting out bottles of water. From the feed you go straight into the Newlands Pass climb, which was again hard work. I was by now very hot when climbing and when a bit of breeze appeared I was very pleased. More cowbells greeted us on the top. Again the descent was tricky in places but I was getting the hang of it now and started on the drops. Then it levels off for a bit. There was a loose dog running up the middle of the road further down, but it ignored us all.
It wasn't long along the valley floor before we arrived at the 4th pass, Whinlatter, which was less steep but I was tiring a bit by now. This had the largest amount of support, with dozens of cars down the side of the road and more cheers and cowbells. This is a more major road than the others so the descent could be taken fast before turning into Lorton for more laney stuff.
By now the efforts were starting to tell. Although I could maintain a reasonable place on the flat, on the undulations I wasn't putting in a huge amount of effort. I had a nasty fright when I hit a bump in the road and there was a loud "crack" from the bike. I stopped, thinking I had broken the seat mast, but it turned out the saddle had just shifted when I hit the bump, so that was quickly fixed.
Groups of roadies were now shooting past, and particularly on the short descents I was being passed due to people being braver and/or having local knowledge. A lot of what I saw seemed like stupidity though. In Lorton a guy tried to overtake me when turning left at a T junction and had to screech to a halt having crossed the give way line, for the car that he had failed to give way to.
The climb to the fell was warm and I was now out of water. The saving grace when we got out onto the exposed top was the sea breeze which had come up. In the distance Windscale's chimneys loomed, a reminder that this area isn't entirely unspoiled. My heart sank a little as I saw more mountains looming ahead, but first there was a 4 mile descent and a feed stop to look forwards to.
I rolled into Calder Bridge control which had plenty seating for people to have a rest. I got some orange juice for the bottles, and a banana and two tuna rolls, and sat down to eat them. A man came round with freezer spray, so I had some for my left knee, which was aching a bit. It was very funny watching a man leap around whilst having his lower back sprayed. I was a bit shaky at this point so I had a longer stop, and had another two rolls. I was advised I'd never get up Hardknott due to the crowds of walking cyclists, cars, and caravans(!).
Once we went off again, it was flat, apart from Irkton Pike. The legs were now going very slowly on the climbs and it was clear that the Hardknott climb would be beyond me. The rest of the ride seemed to agree - everyone was going slowly, and talking about delaying the inevitable.
Once you see the climb, it just looks frightening. From a distance, you can see all of it. I approached at about 20kph and started up the climb, but by the time I was 100 yards in (at 1:3 or so) I could feel pressure in my stomach building. The only thing to do was to join in the 95% of riders who were walking. When in Rome...
It was the right thing to do. I rode the middle section which was less steep, and walked the last part. I got a "well done mate" from a spectator just for doing that much. I was passed by a bloke who had ridden all the way. He was gasping for breath. Not my idea of fun.
The descent was this: terrifying. I let out a whimper as I was struggling to control the pace
on the drops. Near the bottom it got incredibly steep and bumpy, and the back wheel had a life of its own, but I made it down there. Not everyone did; someone was taken away by helicopter.
Riding along the bottom, towards Wrynose, again the climb loomed, and again it was walked. Another descent, slightly less scary. I saw someone go off onto the grass and pull up - I asked if she was ok, and she'd run out of brakes (or maybe arms?). It was not quite as bad as Hardknott. I had to pull into a passing bay to let an ambulance past on the way down.
Once I was on the level again, I found my legs, and on the little climb once back on the main road to Coniston, I had the energy back (knowing I had no more major climbs may have had something to do with this). I got a "well done mate!" from another rider that I sprinted past on the climb. That was nice. Maybe he'd cycled up Hardknott and done his legs in. A lovely, fast descent to Coniston, and I was home, in just over 9h30, to be greeted by jo who'd finished 1h30 earlier (missing out on 1st class by 48s, to his chagrin).
After I'd got my result confirmed, eaten the free food, we rode back and then after a bath, went to the pub for a well deserved meal and pint. We both slept well that night, but still managed to ride over the hill to Grasmere and down to Ambleside the next day. My legs were a little tired, but not too bad. Once we'd got going they woke up nicely.
Yesterday we cycled up to Keswick. I discovered a sidewall tear just before we set off so we used one of jo's tyre boots. The tear may have been there throughout the FW given the puncture I had!
We lunched at a veggie cafe and then cycled a bit of the NCN route cycle path, then up onto the A66 and round Kirkstone Pass the other way, but we rode the steep descent directly down to Ambleside, which demonstrated I'm more nuts than jo - I was waiting a few minutes at the bottom.
So that's another 50 hilly miles. And my legs still work.
