My ride report. Apologies for some of the text but is aimed at any Audax virgin like me!
I started cycling back in 2012 so you could say I was swept along with the wave of the Olympics that year plus the first Briton to win the Tour de France – and in a little over six years I had completed at least 45 sportives, 35 of those being century rides. However, this was my first Audax and one that I was really looking forward to. I had moved to Audaxes as I felt I had become tired of these types of events, more because of their competitive nature than anything else – and the more-friendly-natured feel of Audaxes made them more appealing to me.
As this was the biggest challenge on two wheels that I had faced so far I decided to err on the side of caution with some of my belongings – and although I had booked a Premier Inn at Lincoln at Mile 229 I thought it best to bring along some ‘alfresco’ style sleeping equipment, just in case the City of Lincoln proved to be too far for me.
We set off at 5.53am and out of Great Dunmow, heading North along the B1008 towards Cambridge. The clouds weren’t threatening any rain, so we were able to enjoy the quiet Essex country lanes. The profile was a little bit lumpy but nothing to really test you in the first few miles - and with very little traffic to contend with at this early stage as most ‘normal’ people were still tucked up in bed it proved to be a comfortable start to this epic ride.
I arrived in Cambridge at Mile 27 just before the Saturday market was being set up, so the roads were still generally quiet at this early stage. Happy that my hydration levels must have been well topped up (my wee was a good colour!) and my food intake was going as planned (I had packed chocolate spread sandwiches and jam sandwiches for the first leg) I pushed on through the villages of Thaxted and Saffron Walden.
For those that aren’t aware of what Audax rides are all about – essentially you are given what is called a brevet card at the start and the idea is to complete the route in the allocated time, stopping at the nominated ‘control’ points to collect either a proof of passage (maybe in the form of a receipt with time and date on it) or a stamp in the space on the card by one of the supporters at the control point.
Arriving at Chatteris at Mile 50 and The Green Welly Café was there to greet the riders. By now there was quite a queue for some well-deserved food and many a full English breakfast was the order of the day here. This was the first of the many ‘control’ points where one of the organisers was there to very kindly stamp my brevet card with an image of a carrot (I guess as we were near Lincolnshire that was very apt). A bacon sandwich and a coffee later and I was back on the road heading towards the fens of Lincolnshire.
Out now and the beginning of what was to be the longest and flattest section of the entire ride. I had never cycled in this part of the country before, so I was in unknown territory. I had heard a lot of stories about the Fens and how they can bite back at any rider that dares to cross them. All the while I was cycling across these parts I couldn’t help but think to myself ‘these aren’t that bad – I don’t know what the fuss is about’. I was to eat my words several miles further on when the course changed direction and it was as if someone had turned on one of those leaf blowers! The barren landscape and the long, dead straight roads that disappear on the horizon present any rider with the illusion of a never-ending cycle (excuse the pun). Coming from a busy community life, I wondered how people in this part of the world manage to shop for basic means – given the fact that shops in these parts were very sparingly indeed.
Throughout much of the flat terrain I was left to ponder on what speed I needed to maintain in order to complete this ride within the 40 hour time limit and reach Great Dunmow at 10pm the following night – and with my average speed of 15mph at this stage I was well on course, although I realised I had not even hit the 100 mile mark yet so there was still a long way to go. On my many sportives I am used to an undulating profile so stretches such as the ten-mile section between miles 74 and 84 which runs parallel with the River Welland was easy but quite a strain on the mind with no challenge ahead of me! The busy town of Sleaford welcomed me at Mile 107 and a much-needed latte and cake at the Costa coffee shop nearby - along with the all-important receipt as proof of passage. A few of the other riders were here also but the ‘pack’ was very much split up by now. At this stage I felt good, but I often wondered what was going on in front of me and behind as Audaxes welcome riders of all different ages and abilities. Just as I left Sleaford I checked my route sheet which I had clipped to the top of my handlebar bag and I read somewhere about stopping at a Wetherspoons pub in the town. Not wanting to continue without questioning what this was all about I took a trip inside. It turned out that visiting this pub chain was something of a medal of honour which explained why it had been featured on the route sheets.
Mile 127 and the City of Lincoln provided a welcome stop as the evening had started to draw in. A quick burst up the cobbles through the centre, dodging the many crowds of people enjoying their late Saturday shopping spree and I was out the other side, ascending the short hill towards our next stop at Gainsborough. Just as I had popped out of Lincoln, the rain had begun to put a damper on the proceedings. Surprisingly, for me I didn’t mind too much as I had prepared for anything on this ride. The traffic on the route had also begun to grow, not surprisingly as the road I was travelling on seemed to be one of the only ways North out of the city.
Gainsborough was the next ‘control’ stop at Mile 145 where I bumped into several of the riders at the petrol station in the town who also seemed to have experienced the soaking just after Lincoln. A bottle of water, not forgetting my all-important proof of passage but nearly almost forgetting to collect the water (I mentioned to the counter staff that it had been a long day – and it had been!) and we were off along the busy A631 – and with the light now beginning to fail it was time to switch on the rear lights again (I was still able to see a lot in front of me so the fronts were staying off for now).
By this time the tiredness was beginning to show and despite the cool temperatures my body temperature was relatively high. I unzipped my rain jacket and jersey which helped cool me down, but I do get hot quickly on long rides - and as a result I struggle with my food intake which in turn affects performance on the road. Nevertheless, I plugged on, my mind overthinking too much with numbers (how many miles until the halfway stage, how many until Goole, how many if I went at the current speed, etc).
The miles ticked by as the sun set slowly over the Lincolnshire countryside as the villages of Epworth and Crow came and went. On one of my many comfort breaks I had inadvertently stepped in some mud so some of my bottle of water doubled as a temporary wash station for my cleats. As darkness arrived I begun to see other participants who had already made the turn at Goole and were on their way back to Great Dunmow approaching me on the other side of the road. I knew at this point that I was too far away from the turn myself – and the lights of the heavy industrial buildings in the distance slowly getting closer giving me that impetus to reach the next ‘control’ point. By now a few gears in my rear cassette were not working so I couldn’t get into the lowest gear – not much of a problem on this type of road but something that was to prove to be annoying later.
A few turns in the now very quiet A161 and Goole appeared from the darkness at Mile 178. More riders were coming and going at this point and it felt very comforting that I was not alone in this! Across the darkness I noticed the famous golden arches resembling the Mcdonalds and I knew I was nearly there. After missing a turn and very nearly ending up along the M62 I rolled into the motorway services at just after 10pm to join up with several riders who were tucking into their ‘Maccy D’s’. My appetite had gone but the nevertheless I ordered a McChicken sandwich, only to end up just gazing at it, my mind telling me not to eat it but knew that my body needed it (it’s not a very nice place to be at all!) I took one bite and it felt so unappetising, so I gulped down a milkshake and hoped that would be enough – how wrong I was!
After a quick change into my tights and long sleeve jersey I felt ready to go again. One of the riders I was with seemed to take a wrong turn just up the road out of Goole, but I was too tired to think twice about anything, so I pushed on through the town and back out onto the A161. The flow of cyclists approaching me on the other side of the road made me think I wasn’t the only one left out there!
By the time I had reached Eastoft it was midnight. I had never cycled at this time of the day before, but I always loved the adventure of the unknown so perhaps it was this that kept me going. Despite the flat terrain my pace had begun to drop to not much more than 11mph and I had begun to see the red rear lights of several cyclists heading off to their chosen ‘bed’ for the night. I say that loosely because on Audaxes of 600km or over the consensus is to spend a few hours shut eye in whatever form of shelter one can find along the route – and the several bus shelters provided a somewhat 5-Star ‘hotel’ for these tired individuals. For me, personally as this was my first 600km ride I decided to err on the side of caution and had pre-booked a Premier Inn in Lincoln which at this stage was approximately thirty miles away. Of course, me and my overthinking mind had decided to tell me that I was completely exhausted and kept telling me to stop and find some other way of getting home. Thankfully my stubbornness and sheer determination overtook these thoughts, but the battle had certainly begun with my inner chimp!
Another control point to tick off – this time at the quiet village of Kirton in Lindsey. Well, quiet because it was stupid o’clock and everyone was asleep and not on a stupid 600km cycle ride! This one was a bit of a quiz as we had to answer the question ‘what is the name of the public house in the village?’ This was easy (The Queens Head) but what wasn’t so easy was actually writing it down in the space on my brevet card as the lead in my pencil had decided to abandon me (probably because it thought it best to go home and get some sleep like any normal person) so my phone became my note book as I knew I wouldn’t remember its name 16 hours later!
One of my goals before I started the ride was to surpass my previous effort of 215 miles in a single ride – a ride which had stood ever since my ride across Southern England back in 2014. Just before I approached Hemswell at approximately 1.40am a signpost emerged from the darkness along the B1398 and was to prove to be a lasting symbol of my new personal best.
All along this stretch I was wondering if I could still make it to the end. The calculations in my head were going into overdrive and I knew that my stop at Lincoln couldn’t be a long one. As I was thinking, a fellow cyclist come up alongside me and we chatted for a bit, wondering how people live in these parts with very little ‘life’ (shall we say) around them. One good thing is that it was peaceful with seemingly us cyclists owning the road for miles to come. Not long after, we said our parting words and I saw him disappear into a side road, presumably to look for one of those 5-Star audax hotels I mentioned.
Roads in these parts just carried on for miles and miles which did not help my overthinking mind wonder if I would ever reach Lincoln, let alone the finish! But just when I thought the road couldn’t go on for much longer, the outskirts of Lincoln arrived, and I was very pleased to find the local petrol station which I had passed on the way through Lincoln several hours earlier. I’m not sure what it is but the minute I stop after a long session on the bike my mind and body switches to defensive mode - and no sooner had I unclipped and waited in the queue for some water I had an un-nerving feel in my stomach, so I rushed around the corner of the petrol station where I was violently sick. A lot of things were going through my head at this time but at least I knew that I was only a stones throw away from somewhere to sleep, so with a quick grab of some water I headed off into the city and my bed for a few hours at the Premier Inn.
The time was now just after 3am and all I could think about was putting my head on a pillow – not before a quick shower to wash some of the last 229 miles off me. I set my alarm for 8.30am as I thought that would be a good time to get back out on the road and must have gone straight to sleep as it seemed almost as I drifted off the alarm woke me up and was time to get ready to go again. From my vomiting moment some hours earlier, my stomach was completely empty, so a full English breakfast was on the cards along with several glass of fresh orange juice. I felt much better, but I knew of the task still ahead of me, so I didn’t delay in getting back out on the road – only to be greeted with one of the biggest climbs on the entire route – the Canwick Road out of the city. My legs were clearly not in the mood for this, so I unclipped and walked the rest of the climb.
I still couldn’t manage to get into the lowest gears as my rear derailleur was messing things up. I’m not sure what it was, and I could only think it was dirt that had got into the mechanism somehow. Despite my tiredness and my experiences just before my sleep, it was my strength and determination that was keeping me going as the average speed was beginning to drop down into the high 12’s (12.9mph to be precise I think). The profile here was only a few percentages and every turn of the pedal was hurting mentally but after a few more miles I began to enter the flat profile of the Fens. The trouble was the wind had made its return and the battling conditions meant it was no easy task to push much harder than 10mph in places. One memorable section was at Mile 250 where I was met with a 5-mile dead straight section through Holland Fen. The wind was almost unbearable, and the uninteresting profile meant that my mind had begun to think of throwing in the towel – but I knew that if I reached Boston then I could gather my thoughts, knowing that it was a straight ten hours left until the deadline of 10pm.
Frustratingly, not many signposts ever gave away just how many miles it would be to the next control point but after an agonising stretch (I saw a man selling children’s bikes on the side of the side to which I replied ‘sorry, I’ve got one already!’) Boston arrived at Mile 261 and with it another Mcdonalds. It was here where I bumped into one of the tandem cyclists, so I was quite pleased to realise there were some others left out there! Even up until this point I still felt there was still a chance to get back to Great Dunmow, but it meant an increase in my average speed up until that point – something which I couldn’t physically do so with a heavy heart I decided to call it a day. It was just after midday and my heavy legs had had enough. It was only then that I realised I had missed the time cut to the Boston control anyway as I saw the tandem riders slowly disappearing off on their way through the town I tucked into my chicken nuggets and milkshake – where I was subsequently sick outside again!
A quick Google of the train policies with regards to bicycles from Boston and I was off back towards Stanstead Airport on the East Midland line and a short, seven-mile cycle ride down the A120 back towards Great Dunmow (I’m not entirely sure you’re meant to cycle along here but at this stage of the day I couldn’t care less!)
Since returning home I have booked up more Audaxes for next year. The Audax adventures for me have only just begun!
