This was one ride I had to abandon.
Got up around 6am, had breakfast, then drove down to the start with Howard (who'd cycled over), getting there just after 7am.
I was on the 7:30am start and it started well enough and I was enjoying the early morning riding through the shaded Chilterns beech woodland. It was a perfect temperature for me. Once through the Chilterns it flattened as we rolled onto the Appleford control just west of Oxford. Appleford I topped up my water bottles, toilet visit, grabbed some cake for my stem cell, then off again.
After a gently rolling section we entered the Cotswolds and the series of climbs and descents began. Gentle but long climbs, a little bit of high up ridge riding, then followed by rapid descents, then repeat. The temperature began to climb, and without the same extent of shade as the Chilterns, my sweat rate increased. Arriving in Broadwell the control was just by a ford which I chose not to ride through but jump up on the grass and into the control. Water bottles topped up and then inside for baked potato, beans and sausage. Plus a jug of fruit juice. I'd mostly ridden with Howard and Matt up to this point.
Onwards to Hartlebury, continuing through the Cotswolds. Riding along a main road there was a close pass by the ubiquitous blacked out SUVs. John Sabine who had crept up behind me exclaimed fucking hell very loudly. I'm not sure what made me jump more, the pass or John's very loud sweary shouting. The pass being completely unecessary as a large gap in the traffic coming the other way opened up almost immediately. We were soon to turn off that road back into lanes. The heat continued to climb as we entered the afternoon. My jersey was now dripping, salt was cristalising out on my cap and face and arms. I was drinking a lot. Eventually I had gone through my two bottles and with no shops in sight I looked for a house I could knock on the door of for water. The only houses I saw were large properties, gated, and probably surrounded by electric fences and gattling guns to keep water seeking cyclists out. Eventually I reached a village hall in Hanbury where I pulled over. A note on the door said infinite yoga do not disturb, but on the note was the pin code for an outside toilet. Sure enough it had a wash basin, so toilet stop, and water topped up I was off again. Along here I caught a rider with a yellow top who was riding round in circles as his Wahoo was playing up. After a few more missed turns where I shouted after him; we rode together to Hartlebury. At Hartlebury he was able to get a new WCW track off ridewithgps using his paired phone and I must say I was impressed at that Wahoo feature. not sure so much it losing the plot on the original.
At Hartlebury I had a decent length rest with more baked potato and beans and fruit juice. I was sat at a table with Drew Buck and his face expressed how I was feeling. I was completely whacked from the heat. My legs got violent cramps at one point and I had to stand up to relieve it. Continuing north we skirted the the suburbs surrounding Kidderminster before once more into the lanes. I was increasingly getting passed by riders, each one asking if I was alright. I was getting slower and slower but still moving forwards. The sweat continued to pour off. As the fatigue built I decided I needed to have a rest, so got off the bike and lay down in a shaded grass bank. When I next got on the bike I was violently sick, then paused, tried riding and was violently sick again, paused tried riding, sick again, tried some water sick again. I paused longer, arms resting on bars and head down. Tried riding again, sick. At this point I got my brevet card and looked at the timings, looked at what I was averaging, how far it was to the turn. I realised that I had slowed so much that I had virtually wiped out any buffer I had built for sleep. Without rest and sleep there was no way I would recover from my current state. Plus there would be a headwind on the way back. Despite the conflict with PBP qualification I decided it was time to call it.
I turned and started gently rolling down the hill and saw Drew Buck stopped a little way down. I pulled over and we had a chat, that I was turning back for Hartlebury. He was in a similar position and pondering whether to continue. I wished him well while he still pondered, and trundled on, back south. I was feeling queasy anytime the hills went up, so got off and walked at any point I thought I was about to chunder. I freewheeled most the down hills, pedalling the in between the up and down stuff. Eventually I was back at Hartlbury where Peter confirmed me as DNF. Offers of food and drink but I just needed to sleep. I was more scared of trying something and throwing up to be honest. So I went straight to bed in an empty dorm. I was shivering under a blanket and my teeth were chattering away. I think my teeth were sending out an ailing "help me, help me..." in morse code. I heard noises of faster riders coming in around 10pm, a couple of whom came into the dorm I was in and snored loudly (great).
Shortly after midnight I got up and had a couple of slices of toast and some juice before returning back to bed. I was recovering bit by bit now my body had a chance to cool and rest. I think it was Wobbly who was asking about back up plans for a 600, and PBP qualification. I was kind of the mind to say sod it at the time, and just go out to Rambouillet, see the start, then spend a few days drinking till everyone came back. Sorry if my replies were a bit short. I'm not the best at those type of questions, when in the state I was in, and it can feel like an interrogation. As I said at the time it's not the right time to be asking (or answering) that question.
At 3am I got up for breakfast. Drew was there having decided to pack as well and was tucking into beans of toast. I sat with him and went for beans and toast as well with black tea. I could easily taste the essential salt in the beans. He had set off back just a few minutes behind me. At least there was one person on the road as slow as me. A very minor consolation. Drew was telling me about his PBP where he rode with Steve Abraham on the triplet. They were the fastest thing on the road which they turned into massive sleeps and rest at the controls. Great stuff. Jasmin Muller came out from the dorm wrapped in a blanket and sat at our table. She was warm when riding, but cold whilst stopped. She talked about training your gut, and we talked a little about how the weather had been on RATN. About 3:45am I set off into the pre dawn light. My GPS took a while to load the south bound track and in the end I turn it on and off which seemed to sort it out. Whilst stationary waiting for the GPS to be ready (Wobbly) checked on me again, my PBP 600 qualifier plans, and then I was off.
The night was a nice temperature, I was trundling along ok. I say trundling rather than riding as I was trying to keep my effort levels down, and not sweat at all. I could take in water again, and eat crisps, so the little over 6 hours of rest had done some good. Jasmin Muller said "Hi, you ok" as she flew past on her impossibly lightly loaded setup. More and more fast riders passed looking impossibly fresh and probably wondering how on earth someone going as slowly as I was could have been ahead of them. The hills through the Cotswolds seemed steeper heading south. I walked the steeper bits whenever I felt my efforts levels sharply climbing. The headwind which was fairly light pre dawn steadily increased as the day woke up. A worker in hiviz on an Elephant bike with drum brakes and sturmey archer gears overtook me up on long hill. Oh the ignominy! Eventually Broadwell turned up where I slowly ate a bacon roll with tea.
I was still riding slowly, walking many hills, and queasiness was never that far away. The temperature was now also climbing even in the early morning. Andy Preston sat and chatted a while and mentioned that he thought there was a train station near by that could get me to Oxford and from there to Maidenhead. A bit of map lookup and they gave me directions to the nearest station. It was too tempting and the prospect of another 100km as it warmed up again, possibly followed by heavy rain did not entice me to continue riding; for what purpose?
Andy, looked up the next trains, and said you could easily make the station in 30 mins (to catch the next one) but I allowed a couple of hours (to get a later train) given my state! Andy pointed me at the dorm for some rest an they would wake me in time to ride for the later train. The train journey went well and I found another rider who had abandoned further north when I boarded the train (at Oxford) for Reading. I was pleased with the station staff who had got me a bike reservation 8 minutes before the train rolled in. From Reading it was a 2 stop local train to Maidenhead.
From Maidenhead it was about a 2 mile ride initially down the A308 then left into Bray. Easy navigation, and I was back at Bray by 3pm; to see Jasmin Muller just leaving. My appetite was back at Bray and I tucked into the soup, freshly baked bread, sandwiches, scotch eggs, and washed it down with the different fruit juices. Fatigue came back in waves and I pulled out a mattress onto the stage where the bags were. Think I managed four shifts on it. Eating in between sleeping. As the day wore on riders turned up increasingly soggy and fatigued from the wind and rain.
I had to wait for Howard my passenger from the morning. As time ticked towards the deadline I rode out and retrieved the car and put it in the village car park. It ticked over into the last few minutes; Neil came in with a couple of woman, they mentioned, when I asked if they had seen Howard, that a rider had come off his bike, but they didn't know their name. I found out from Danial that Howard had got the dozies about 6am on Sunday and come off his bike. Danial had confirmed he'd seen him at Appleford and that Howard was on a mission to finish. Tables and chairs were now being put back in storage. Time ticked onwards and John Sabine rolled in. Soup and bread and then it was time for him to head off to the station. As he talked about the ferry crossing for Paris, I didn't tell him at the time that I'd abandoned, I'd had enough of the questions from earlier riders about my PBP intentions, and didn't want to spoil the mood of his hard fought for finish.
I'd decided that I would drive back out along the route if Howard did not turn up by 11:45pm. It was a long wait as he arrived right on the time limit, 11:30pm. Howard was battered and bruised, his face was was swollen and cut, he had properly crashed when he fell asleep on the bike, broken his helmet in four places, bloodied knees, his ribs hurt, ripped his jacket. Seriously battered and bruised, but he'd made it.
After a quick drink and grabbing some cake it was time to drop Howard back at his home, then home for myself. We walked round to the car and I lifted Howard's bike onto my tow bar mounted bike rack. He wasn't able to lift the bike. Whenever we hit a pothole in the dark Howard winced. But soon enough we were on the Motorways and speeding home in light but no empty traffic. We talked about his crash and the time leading up to it, and what he did after, pulling over if he ever felt he was feeling sleepy again. Howard then fell asleep not suprising even without this injuries. I turned the music up to keep me alert, Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon, appropriate. Eventually I dropped Howard off at his home, took his bike upto his house, and we said our good nights. Another 20 mins and I was home, for a shower, milkshake then bed.
I'd noticed when putting Howards bike on and off the rack that the rear wheel was jammed against the frame. Hopefully just a loose quick release or something. What an eventful weekend. Bravo to all who took part and finished.
A nights rest, and morning to ponder and I have decided I will be trying to complete my 600 qualifier for PBP. So three weeks time I will be on Fenland Friends 600. Probably on the recumbent. Meanwhile I'm going to ponder my rehydration strategy and think I am going to have to go back to having electrolytes in my water and carry some sachets of diorlyte.
Thanks for a great event, sometimes things just don't work out for riders. I'm much more sanguine about it these days. First time I ever quit an audax I was in tears and my emotions were all over the place.
Thanks for all the kind words and checks I was ok from those I met when suffering.
