Paddington Express 400km audax 22nd-23rd April 2023

I took Paddington to meet Paddington. The legs took the strain from Bristol to London and back again. It was more Cross Country in style than Express in nature. There were delays due to unscheduled stops, equipment and driver failure and not much coffee nor cake. It was one heck of an adventure to the Big Smoke and back in just less than 27 hours on a bike. If there had been an easy way to scratch, I would have taken it.

Paddington Jnr on his way to meet Paddington snr Photo: B Hafford

I have completed 2x Randonneur Round the Year’s (RRtY) They keep me fitter, in the zone and dissuade couch potato like tendencies. It’s easier to thrash out a monthly 200 than starting over at my age. During my first RRtY in 2019, I offered to help Will out and stamp brevet cards on the 400km Paddington Express, at the first control in Swindon, still in shock I had managed 4 monthly 200km rides at that point, through winter, I didn’t think I was able to cope with much night riding. Riding a 400 was for proper audax cyclists, an achievement way off my radar, entering never crossed my mind. Imposter syndrome off the scale.

Riders appeared at The Swindon and Cricklade Railway centre in Blunsdon, I was encouraging Audax Club Bristol (ACB) friends who were taking part. Whilst taking care of Brevet Card admin, I computed they were 60km in to a 200km ride to Paddington Station. That’s doable. Why did I not just enter and ride to London contemplate the unknown on the return, or catch the post train home if need be? I did not realise at the time that Paddington Express is only on the calendar for Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP) qualification years, so every 4 years. Next one was scheduled for 2023. A lot has happened since then, but I never forgot that deluded romantic notion I could possibly have a go.

Riding to the capital is a satisfying aim. Although I’m not keen on London and I rarely go there. It’s been 18 months since I rode my first 300, an overnight 300, in November 2021, because I’d forgotten I’d entered the previous year and the entry was carried over. Why not make life hard for myself? I somehow got round Moonrakers and Sunseekers in 2021 with a 22.30 depart and somewhat dispelled the myth that I could not cope with night riding. Totally on the wire and I was Lanterne Rouge. Moonrakers kicked off my second RRtY, finished in October 2022. I then fell off the wagon and didn’t restart a new RRtY this winter, a string of viruses, weather, other commitments, holiday, I made all the excuses.

I needed another goal. PBP chatter started up and I saw Paddington Express was back on the audax agenda in April. I had not ridden a 200km audax in 4 months. A mad plan was hatched for the next three weekends to ride 2 x200s and then my second ever 300, GWR Railway Connections, in mid-March. After all I had said after Moonrakers that "I'd do some training beforehand next time." 

My legs felt much better by the 300. It was quite tough as an early 6am start to fly out to Didcot and loop through the Cotswolds (snow on the ground) and then into the dark and fog after Tewkesbury to conquer all the hills in Forest of Dean through Ross and back to Chepstow and a return to Bristol over the Severn Bridge at midnight. A long day, cold, wet and windy at times, but I made the arrivée by the skin of my teeth at 1.45am. As ever I felt my best later and finished strongly. I was not last. I should imagine a proper sports coach may not have approved of my logic, but it worked for me. 

I felt happier to contemplate entering Paddington Express, my first 400. I had 5 weeks to consolidate before departure on the audax train. I ticked off Butt Buster 200 and then spent Easter in Cornwall, so plenty of stabby hills were thrashed. I carefully did not ride a 200 in April to give me extra motivation to finish my 400 and rest the old body. Real sports people call this "tapering." A sports psychologist would have a field day with my sports science theory.

Audax snacking preparation

Nervous but very happy that Paddington Express, organised by Will Pomeroy of Great Western Randonnées (GWR) and ACB, was a mid-afternoon departure. I’m better at staying up late than early starts. I rode the 9 km into Bristol, after a substantial lunch, to calm my nerves, check everything was ok, and loaded my first ride of seven onto my Garmin. A pre-ride coffee and pastry at The Bakehouse was the plan but my stomach was far too twitchy to risk it. I told myself it was a 60km ride to Swindon after collecting my Brevet card and greeting fellow audax friends from Bristol and beyond. Will sent us off with cheery waves and a very British “see you later” as if we were meeting at the pub in an hour or two for a “normal” Saturday night. The precise familiar metallic snap-clack of all the clipless pedals being attached to cycling shoes swirled into the reassuring whirl of freehubs, accompanied by the sing-song of bike computers being released joyfully into the wild. We were off.

Picking up brevet cards at the "Depart"

As someone said "did you bring your own bike stand?" He was looking forward to a peaceful weekend and counting down to my "off"

The first three hours were fairly none descript. Concentration on the city roads towards Bath and once the first climb was over groups formed, and most had passed me, but I was swishing into the early evening with others still around. Some chat was in evidence as we relaxed whilst establishing that rhythm required to propel us into and through the night. I pulled into Blunsdon Station and smiled, here I was riding and not stamping. Will was stamping and I deftly ordered my jacket potato and tea before getting my card stamp. Ablutions were completed whilst my order was prepared. I am very aware that a good strategy as a full value rider is to reduce faff time.

This was the point at which it was easy for me to ride home, have a shower and go to bed like a normal person. I loaded up my second route that was the longest (at 99km) of the 7, all the way to Eton/Windsor. It was very comforting to be riding in a three with two ACB club mates. We were all quite contemplative, but we automatically took turns into the headwind aiming for Didcot, we’d been here on Railway Connections a few weeks earlier. I knew there was a McDonalds but didn’t want to risk losing too much time early on. However, not eating sufficiently can cause problems and perhaps I should have “jumped” eating at Blunsdon and waited to the 100km milestone at Didcot for my audax supper. I was beginning to doubt my fuelling strategy. Our peloton of three had dissolved and I paused outside the railway station to eat a cheese roll, turn off my daytime flashing usb lights and swap to dynamo lights as dusk was falling. People were milling in groups off to the pub and I slunk off into the other audax world, the parallel detached universe. My Garmin was in night mode, switching off when not required and I was hoping that a 20 minute charge at Paddington would keep it navigating for the night until I could swap back to the dynamo to charge it by morning. I had a chuckle to myself that who did I think I was to make it to Paddington and out of London by the time the real world was waking up again, never mind worrying about charging my Garmin.

It was properly dark by Henley on Thames and after navigating theatre goers and crossing an illuminated bridge a long climb ensued. I buckled down and plodded up, felling quite nauseous but religiously taking something form my snack bag and eating every 20 minutes. At some point, as I’d been following lights in the distance, I noticed my Garmin wasn’t illuminating to navigate. I stopped and pressed everything, swiped the screen in all directions and a little flutter of terror shot through my stomach. It was dead. Some other riders passed and said to ride with them. We swerved into an express supermarket at 22.10. I remember the time as the door was being locked, the assistant did not want to be delayed by any more cyclists raiding the shelves! I googled “Garmin hard reboot” as I could not remember the process. Depressing the power button for 10 seconds worked, it sprung back to life, recovered navigation and had just lost about 10km that had not recorded. My back up Strava recording had stopped itself 15 km earlier. No worries, it meant I could continue. I am not fast enough to rely on being in a group with others.

Now I was solo, presumed last and determined to keep an eye on the time and procrastinate no more. Once through Maidenhead and the count down to the information control at Eton. I never did see Windsor Castle but the reassuring figures of others finding the trivia to record on our brevet cards was comforting.  I loaded course 3 of 7. Less than 40km to Paddington Station and the halfway point. I thought I might make it in 2 hours by 1am and was overjoyed, cut off time was 4.20 and realistically I’d hoped for 3am when planning.

The road surfaces in Buckinghamshire had been dire, potholes to drown in, rough jarring surfaces and the killer longitudinal slits that you can wedge a tyre in. Rain had set in. I was riding a relatively smooth back road near Heathrow when my front wheel crashed through a rogue pothole. I just about managed to stand up, but the back wheel thumped down hard and immediately deflated. My utter worst nightmare. I walked back to a couple of lampposts (very lucky) and got my bike upside down removed the wheel and started extracting the blown tube. Un beknown to me a couple of heroes were not far behind and stopped to help. I got the tube in but reseating the tyre is my nemesis even in a warm kitchen, my hands seize and I invariably pinch the inner using tyre levers. They managed to prise the tyre back on using strong fingers and we took turns to pump it. I thanked them profusely and sent them on their way whilst I rehung my pannier, ate something and calmed down. I did not want to jeopardise others’ rides. A food delivery scooter appeared and slowed down. He checked I was ok too, lovely humans are everywhere. Kindness lurking in Hounslow at 1am.

I was low on water and quite worried that if the water refill station at Paddington was out of order I’d be stuck. I stopped at a garage and had a surreal chat with a group of lads who had obviously escaped parental clutches whilst celebrating Eid, so smartly dressed and they apologised profusely for holding me up whilst deliberating on their purchases. I stashed the rest of my 2 litre bottle of still water after refilling bidons bid the lads a good night and eventually started rolling through London Town. This was the part I had dreaded, presumed route finding in the city would be impossible. Naturally, every light pretty much turns red as you get there, an out-of-control jeep roared at stupid speed up Chiswick High Street but other than that all very quiet. The London Marathon was due to start in a few hours. After what seemed an eternity of clipping in and out at traffic lights, and the tail end of the riders ahead passing over the other side already on their return leg, I arrived at Paddington. I remembered Platform 1 and scooted left along the platform only to be shouted at for not dismounting properly, whoops!

Just before departure of the slow train home in the middle of the night

I knew Chris would be there with marmalade sandwiches. A familiar face, with a calm reassuring manner. Turns out I’m not the last in and it’s just gone 2am so I have 2 hours 20 in reserve. I am managing myself ok except for my stomach. I cannot face sweet stuff so eat more rolls and drink the coke I bought at the garage. The Platform 1 toilets shut at midnight so I walk over to Platform 12 and have the standard conversation with the cleaner, he asks if it’s a charity ride and I say no, he then says, “why are you doing it then?” I couldn’t give a rational answer. I’m lucky and privileged that I can have a go.

Paddington meeting Paddington, the marmalade was already there

 A snatched photo with the bronze Paddington statue that was smaller than I expected, and I leave into the fluorescent night. More traffic lights and gyratory systems and eventually I realise I am back towards Heathrow and onwards to the Wessex downs. The fluid movement of time has washed over my brain and I try to eat and drink regularly. I’m not being very rational and know there is no way to get home easily. The quickest way is to keep on going. I’m crawling now feeling very sick. I passed Ascot Race course and start climbing into the dawn. Just me and the birds tweeting.

I turn into the scout hut complex for the breakfast control and proceed to take several minutes finding the correct hut in my delirious state. I was so surprised to see so many bikes outside still. I wasn’t making much sense, but beans on toast and a mug of tea were placed before me by Will again, he’s on his third control! I can’t work out how, I thought he was cutting cross country on his bike from Swindon. Another lovely controller tries to encourage me to go and sleep for 20 minutes. She assures me she will wake me up, but I had no problems missing a night’s sleep on Moonrakers and know I can’t “nap” to order so I decline. She was right. I contemplated pro plus I was carrying, I’ve never taken them and have no idea why when they were needed that I didn’t take them.

The stragglers had mostly left. Beans on toast and tea would normally revive me but not today. I was riding into the headwind and it was lumpy terrain again. No rain and the sun did start to peep out but I never did take my leg warmers off, there was a nip in the air. I kept blanking, exhaustion was making me cold. I didn’t fall off but was seriously worried. I hallucinated slightly and it was light. It was 67km to Great Bedwyn Post Office and the chance of a latte. I spied a bench by a post box in a little village called Brimpton. I stopped and tried to eat something and laid down and shut my eyes. Probably 15 minutes, without actually sleeping, but it was just enough to risk continuing without crashing.

Then I passed over Greenham Common, remembering vividly the decade of demonstrating camps when I was a student in the 80s. Another place I’ve never been to before. My motivation was picking up very slightly. I had managed to work out that the Post Office was over 300km. I’d be into the last 100km. I saw a sign for Great Bedwyn which had a red railway sign on it. Befuddled brain cheered, I can get a train home and not make the call of shame for a lift now I’m close enough and it’s morning. Comically, around the next bend, a rail replacement coach passed me and dashed my cunning plan. No bikes allowed on rail replacement coaches.

I prop my bike up at the post office, another sleep deprived soul is there. I was momentarily gutted to see it wasn’t a café too, as I had presumed. However, they had a coffee machine, and I bought a latte, spooned in some sugar and had my card stamped. These wonderful people had opened very early to cater to the pointy end, audax heroes. A lovely array of pastries were on offer but I couldn’t face them and ate another half roll. I remembered my green gunge smoothie I had carried since the start. Easily absorbed calories. I downed that too on the bench outside. I was back in a normal functioning world at 11am. Route number 6 is 54km to Corsham. Perhaps I can do this?

Bluebells can't fail to lift the spirits

My brain is fizzy, but my legs start working and my speed is improving. I haven’t had to walk anything and I am pushing uphill steadily. The Pewsey area is lovely, feels like big sky prairie and the rape seed is blinding. I’m riding amongst 3-4 others, we hop each other at intervals and life is less lonely again. I fall into a rhythm with one of the guys and we are very evenly matched. He stopped in Corsham village, and I climbed up to the co-op garage that I’d used as my end of route marker. Another coffee and a timed receipt stowed and I sat on the forecourt floor eating my food and messaged home. ETA 5-5.30 cut off time was 18.00. Messaged my daughter that I was sitting on a garage forecourt floor and she presumed that meant I’d given up. I felt the best I had since early evening and as I got back on my bike the same guy is just approaching. He’d stopped in the village and with the final 38km route loaded we rode on together in good spirits, I was confident we could coax each other home.

Box Hill down. Wow, such fun. I was aware now, through gritted teeth, that punctures and accidents had to be avoided so was reasonably careful but what a rush. I’d never ridden the A4 back through Bath to Bristol so was none the wiser. A few more #wills_hills to conquer and a lot of Saturday traffic plus more traffic lights. My middle three left toes were cramping from the unclipping for the London lights and were suddenly very painful. Eventually my Garmin pushes us out onto the Bristol to Bath Path for just the last mile. The Bakehouse café arrivée had shut at 16.00 and moved to the Brewery tap around the corner for the last 2 hours. 

Blitzed but still standing after cider!

I was mightily pleased with 16.50 as my finish time all things considered. Somehow Will was there again! Far better to celebrate with a pint of cider after all. It was lovely camaraderie with earlier finishers. We had passed my two puncture rescuers in Bath who were charging a Garmin, so we were also not last back. We finally exchanged names and started chatting freely. In answer to the cheerful night cleaner at Paddington I did it because I can. I am very lucky that I can. I do remember saying “no way though am I ever attempting a 600………”

About 10 out of 79 Pad Ex finishers were not men. I’ve contacted some of them “up the road from me”, for their perspective of Paddington Express.

“Hearing the familiar beep from my Garmin I glance down to register my 320^th kilometre: an invisible finish line in a series of invisible finish lines, but one to be celebrated with a snack, all the same.  Like clockwork I eat every 20 km, so in a well-rehearsed and robotic routine I unzip my top tube bag and reach for the Kendal Mint Cake I’d been looking forward to since I’d set out from Bristol, 15 hours earlier.  I bite off a large chunk, but not before an even larger chunk flies straight from my hand and into a puddle.  RIP, there’s no rescuing that. I had plenty more with me, but that’s not the point.  I’d spend the remaining hours back to Bristol thinking about that lost square…gone but never forgotten.

Those final hours passed in a blur of sleep-deprived nonsensical conversation, as I linked up with some others and rolled into the Arivée feeling satisfied in a way only possible through physical exhaustion.  Now with only one ride left to get my Super Randonneur, I made a mental note to bring plenty more Kendal Mint Cake with me on that one.”

- Vic

“It was a tale of two rides. The first 200k was fast, with fresh legs and impending rain clouds speeding me into London, but the second half was a slow grind. The views on this route are not spectacular, and apart from a dry chain, I didn’t have any memorable mechanicals either. This meant I had a lot of time to overthink – about my week and life – until all conscious thought was replaced by autopilot, and I must have reached a meditative state of being comfortable with discomfort.

Now I was thinking about it, it was the easiest night ride I’ve done despite the nausea. Because much of it was through London, which was still lively, I never had to deal with my 2am demons on some lonely country lanes. And it wasn’t cold. I think after PBP I won’t do night rides anymore – I don’t enjoy them.”

-Dulce

“After a few years of certainty that 300km was the longest distance I would ever want - or be able - to ride, I finally threw caution to the wind and signed myself up to the Bryan Chapman 600. The Paddington Express seemed like a fairly safe option for some 400 practice in the lead up. Propelled by a healthy tailwind and tucked in behind my partner, Nick, the ride to Paddington was hugely enjoyable. Hurtling along lanes in better-than-expected weather, we flew to the outskirts of London.

The first to reach Paddington, we didn't stop for long. Bits of rain started to fall as we left the city lights behind, and the roads became lumpier. Reaching Pinewood Scout Hut just before 1am, I realised tiredness and disorientation had crept up on me. After a welcome warm up and beans on toast, we carried on our way.

Now blasting Abba into the night, my pace began to slow. Not long after, breathing became more difficult and nausea set in. A quarter of a cereal bar fuelled the rest of my ride, which slowed to a stop and a fairly major meltdown with 70km still to go. It being 4.45am on a Sunday, the only choice was to carry on, and we crawled home as the sun rose. Rolling downhill along the Bristol and Bath Railway Path to Bakehouse, the arrivée, I thought I might burst into tears at the end. Instead, a restorative croissant was placed into my hands, and I promptly fell asleep. 17 hours and 18 minutes after setting off, we were the first back. Next stop, the Bryan…”

-Katherine

And finally, from Will, the organiser:

“It was a joy seeing everyone get round especially for those challenging their limits and doing their first 400 or through the night ride.” 

 

My original “railway journey” style notes for context from IG:

Depart Bristol: Sat 22nd April 2023 15:00 @bakehousebs2

Swindon -jacket and beans/cheese

Didcot

Henley on Thames -Garmin fail

Maidenhead

Windsor

Hounslow for LHR -pot hole puncture

Kew

Chiswick

Shepherd’s Bush

Paddington Station -marmalade sandwiches

Hammersmith

Hounslow for LHR

Ascot -baked beans on toast for Ladies' Day

Brimpton -driver fail village bench for 15 mins attempted zzz

Greenham Common

Great Bedwyn -1st coffee

Corsham -2nd coffee

Box Hill -wheeeeeee

Bath

Hanham

Arrivée Bristol: Sun 23rd April 2023 16:50 @lhgtaproom Brewery CIDER 🍏🍎🍏

410km 🚴‍♀️

3000m 🏔️

20hrs 30mins 🚴‍♀️

25hrs 45 mins ⏰

🐻 2

Adventure Level 10/10

Thank you @gwraudax for one heck of an adventure that I’m still processing. 80 minutes inside cut-off and didn’t keep you waiting as not quite last!

My longest ride to date. Super Randonneur or SR progress:

200km ✅

300km ✅

400km ✅

600km ❎

#parisbrestparis2023 pre qualification

3/12 for my third #rrty

Missing 10km and another 300m climbing!

A few weeks later my ratified brevet card appeared in the post. I had not noticed the Paddington Bear stamp!

Moonrakers and Sunseekers 309km audax 19th November 2021

Next time I’ll do some training.

My first 300km audax and first time riding over night (and into the next night!) Jelly baby reflux is a thing. What did you do on Friday night?

Spoiler alert - my completed brevet card

Why? I was not certain I could do it. I was very certain 300km as a daytime distance in summer was a possibility back in 2019. That was the year I pushed myself way beyond what I thought my limits were and completed my first RRtY (12 consecutive monthly 200km rides.) I signed up for Moonrakers and Sunseekers in 2020 after a reasonable summer of pushing myself on longer multi day solo camping trips. A 300km in November is mad. For reference I have a 14 yo right knee replacement that I want to last as long as possible. There is also the slight problem of being partially sighted which makes night riding extremely hard (almost impossible in rain) and slows me even more as I can't let go downhill. I'm slow enough anyway. We all know Moonrakers wasn't held last November as we were in national lockdown (I had covid, we forget it was lockdown everywhere as we didn't leave the house for nearly 3 weeks) and that was the start of my fitness flight. I totally forgot about Moonrakers until I realised it was on my Audax UK list in September. I had let my second RRtY "go" in July so my last 200 was June and I'd ridden one 100km ride in the previous six weeks. I would not be starting unless the weather conditions were as-perfect-as-you-can-get in November. No rain, ice nor wind could be mentioned on the forecast.

The weather forecast was perfect, very low chance of rain and 9-12 degrees for the whole of Friday night and into Saturday evening. After backing out of an overnighter earlier this year when the weather conditions were also good, I had to go for it. 

I packed my disabled rail card and battery bank. Jelly babies were stashed along with cheese rolls, cheddars, marzipan, cereal bars and salted peanuts in my bar bag. There were 3 overnight controls with food available but as ever I made sure I had enough to survive. Imagining all the worst case scenarios I had a padded jacket, ski gloves and commuting rain jacket in one small pannier. If my night was to be spent in a ditch or the colder weather forecast for Sunday moved in early, I would survive.

I volunteered Steve to help at the depart/start, mainly so I had no excuses to bottle. We rode slowly into Bristol for 9pm to settle my nerves, following the last 10km of the route I'd be doing tomorrow and know well. I would be riding past home at 298km. After all the hardest part is starting. It was great to see a few familiar faces and collect my brevet card, knock back a mug of tea and munch a banana to calm the nerves.

21.40 group start aka the fast ones (my start was an hour later)

I started in the last bunch to be let loose (170 starts in 4 groups from 21.40-22.40) so already I'm an hour down. In theory it doesn't matter, it's not a race, but when you know you will be riding full value on the limit of the audax time limits it is a demotivating fog to wade through. Immediately I was phased by flashing rear lights of some of the other riders and I didn’t jump a red light to stay with the bunch, so that was it, at the back after 5 minutes and still in Bristol. I resigned myself for a steady warm up to Devizes, not caring about resorting to the granniest of granny gears for the big pull out of Bath. Conditions were very good and warm. An occasional late starter wafted by and eased off into the distance. 

After a short optional tour of Devizes, I found the Moonraker pub at 51km which was the first control. More friendly encouraging kind people stamped my card and handed me a kilo of flapjack. A couple of other late starters caught up. David left the control with me and we rode all night together, we were total strangers at that point. It was awesome. I was extremely close to just turning right and heading home. Thanks to David I didn't.

I watched David power up the inclines on his fixed gear, obviously capable of powering off into the night and being back in Bristol for lunchtime. We talked about many of our cycling experiences. Tales of iconic ultra distance races; Trans Continental Race, Pan Celtic, Pyrenees (David) and All Points North (both of us) The stuff of cycling dreams. A quick stop at an audax hotel to bolt some carbs but no time to sleep.

Audax Hotel

Salisbury control at 91km was a wonderfully random gazebo set up next to a roundabout with Will and helpers reappearing and the best mug of tea ever (and more flapjack) Surreal at 3.30am or whatever. The only traffic had been perturbing blue lights of the emergency services looking after everyone and the odd very considerate lorry passing wide and slow. 

A couple of hours evaporated in exciting bike chat and we rode the whole length from Christchurch illuminated by a watery sun rise through Bournemouth to Poole. A lot of seafront bike path next to a glassy and slightly foggy sea with beach huts like paint charts. I was flagging big time. Halfway welcome 153km in at the Lilliput Sea Scout hut by another army of intrepid lovely volunteers who had been preparing and cooking all night. I was the last of 150+ breakfasts served at 8am. It was epic.

Audax breakfast in Poole

I needed a good break as my Garmin needed to recharge as well as me, it was on 20%. I waved David off and was honoured to meet the legendary Mike Sheldrake who gave me a massive hug and sent me on my way at 9am with encouraging wisdom. It was chilly and the drizzle very persistent in the never ending rolling hills to Podimore services at 227km. Totally solo, no sign of audax life. My legs worked but only at one speed, setting 1 on the food mixer. I'm still riding to time limits but needing to boost my Garmin charge, I allowed myself a latte to wash down more of my cheese rolls. The server helpfully pointed out that everyone else passed through hours ago. 

Glastonbury was where I believed I might make it, all familiar ground now. I was held up by cattle droving near Godney with a queue of cars. It was dusk at the start of the gravelly Strawberry Line in Axbridge with dog walkers dressed in black with black dogs and a huge struggle to see where the path was as everything was covered in pretty leaves. I've no idea how I survived the horrific mud slide at Thatchers' new diversion but somehow I stayed upright. I should have been back on the road to avoid that section but hadn't paid my Garmin much attention as I know the Strawberry Line. 

I totally crawled in the pitch black and eventually made The Strawberry Line Cafe in Yatton 15 mins after closing at 5.15 although technically on time, just. I flashed off a quick pic for evidence, and a quick message to arrivée to say where I was and to apologise for keeping them waiting. Thank goodness for no punctures.

Strawberry Line Cafe Yatton 5.15pm

Now the thrash to get back "on time" fuelled by jelly babies, as they were all I could manage on the go. Local knowledge helped for the ride through Nailsea but not rarely dipped car lights dazzling me on the lanes. Riding past home at 298km was torture. A final fling of navigational ineptitude getting the route onto the B2B Railway path wrong having ridden the section last night and losing another 5 valuable minutes.

I made it back by the skin of my teeth to cheers from Will, Holly and Steve, embarrassingly my moving speed of 19km/hr at Poole had dropped off to 17.7km/hr by the finish. Audax allows about 15km/hr including stop time. A plate of fantastic dahl was handed to me and tales of the day were told. Given my fitness levels and circumstances a full fat value ride was plenty good enough for me. Who am I kidding? I should have been back by 5pm. 

Bristol Somerset Wiltshire Hampshire Dorset - 5 counties in one day

Epic organisation and control teams by Great Western Randonées. I'm regretting not picking up a Strawberry line stick to whittle into my wooden spoon. I was the person who spent the longest time by far in the saddle. Another "lanterne rouge" for my collection. The jelly baby reflux lasted several days. I was staggered that the lack of sleep for 36 hours didn't impact me until I was in the bath later that evening.

Am I imagining things? Did I say "next time I’ll do some training" rather than "never again...?"

Lon Las Cymru - Solo lightweight camping tour across Wales - Sat 15th-Mon 17th August 2020

I finally summoned up the courage to go on a mini tour on my own last weekend. The forecast wasn't too bad, as we know forecasts are subject to change.

Over 2 and a bit days my goal was to try and test myself on 2x200km days (one to be a DIY 200km audax to restart my 2nd RRtY halted in March due to Covid) with Monday spare to get to Bangor and a train home. To ride and explore more I have to be able to be self sufficient.

My plan was the Sustrans Lon Las Cymru route across Wales starting from home early Saturday (south Bristol) through Chepstow via the Old Severn Bridge, up Gospel Pass then Elan Valley/Rhayader climbing up to the remote Clywedog Forest/Reservoir to wild camp the first night after 205km. Sunday was the long climb and magnificent descent to Machynlleth and out to the coast to loop up to Barmouth, Harlech and Porthmadog then looping through Snowdonia/Pen y Pass (and hopefully a campsite) before a dash to Bangor on Monday morning for a train home. #WalesNeverFails 

The original plan:

It was wild and brilliant and challenging and pretty tough and an awful lot of Type II fun was had in the pretty atrocious rain and as soon as it was over I vowed I would do more solo multi day rides. On Saturday evening I had been in the middle of a gravel track in the remote Elan Valley with hardly any water. Water was all around me in swampy streams, but there were sheep everywhere so it was not safe to drink a drop. I was supposed to be through Rhayader for supplies and up to Clwedog and I had no idea if I could find somewhere out of sight enough and suitable to camp. I was never going to cycle again then.

I did get some water, and found a (not ideal) camp spot and survived. It left me with too much for Sunday so I dropped back my ambition to just the original Lon Las route to Bangor without a side trip through Pen y Pass.

The weather was pretty horrific, I was soaked before I was out of Bristol and over the bridge, having left home at 6.30am on Saturday.

After a very brief outside café/Co Op stop in Usk it was dry for Gospel Pass the easier way from Abergavenney but I thought it was harder than from Hay, I was carrying a tent, sleeping bag, sleep mat and a stove on my lighter weight set up, but the steepest bit is right at the top of the easier way. I have conquered Gospel from Hay a fair few times but up from Aber was a first, and once past Hay I was onto unknown roads for me until I was through Machynlleth.  I made it up Gospel with no walking though...

..and the descent to Hay on Wye was fantastic.

I got a bit lost in Builth Wells and eventually found the river path out of town. Once past the canoeing centres it got much more remote and I climbed up to the Elan Valley, a dozen trials bikes buzzed me descending. A while later they passed me again, fewer of them but ascending in the same direction and they disappeared again. I paused to eat something and then found the route turned into a gravel greenway. 

Nothing too technical and I carefully made my way along until I rounded a corner and found the bikes parked ahead of me with their engines off the other side of a closed gate. It was a shock, I did not know what to do, if I turned around I imagined the rest of them closing me off. The parked ones all started their engines and one by one carried on along the Greenway, gouging it up. I waited until it was silent. I had no choice but to continue through the gate and just hope they were trying to find space to illicitly gather and have a smoke and I was the inconvenience not a target. 

I walked to avoid falling or being knocked off if being a target was my fate. I also knew I had run out of time to make camp near Clywedog that night, and I had very little water left. Eventually I came to tarmac again, I could hear a few motor bikes in the distance accelerating up the main road the other side of the valley, I was fairly certain I was OK now. Another routing mistake (walking round a field looking for a track 50 m too early) and eventually I trundled into Rhayader and found a Spar and bought the all important water and another meal deal. I had to move quickly as I was committed to the main road, suspecting the route I was supposed to be on was more off road by the river that would slow up progress and I needed to get away from town (and water) to find somewhere to camp. The road was hideous, so fast and steep sided but I noticed a left turn signposted for Route 8 to the river and took it. I managed to find a field where the hay had been cut and ducked behind the hedge. It was dusk and once I was off my bike realised I was shaking. I had not eaten enough in hours and bolted a sandwich before putting the tent up and crawling in utterly relieved. Things improve after a night's sleep but randomly 3 tractors shot past and started hay making in the adjacent fields as I was drifting off at 10pm. I was so sure I was going to be rumbled but they finished around midnight and I was left in peace. The farmers knew what they were doing, the rain started up soon after.

It was very wet on Saturday night and I had a soaking heavy tent to stow Sunday morning, and rejoined the route by the Wye. I was totally alone in the brooding and very wet Clywedog Forest but I was very happy, it was stunningly remote but a hard working forest, cloud swirling around before an emotion releasing descent ramping into the long steady satisfying climb preceding the most swooping <out of this world> descent ever on a smooth road to Machynlleth (and it's Co op for yet another meal deal and a take away coffee.) The descent and the hot coffee were out of my world. Finally it stopped raining. As Ian Walker says in his excellent book "Endless Perfect Circles" (about his own world record breaking ride across Europe) "it never always gets worse." I had kept that mantra in my head the night before and it was true. 

The weather wasn't everything. The foodie highlight was fish and chips in Barmouth mid afternoon on Sunday (my only hot meal in 3 days) with balmy weather to eat them on a bench in surreal crowds. The coastal loop into Barmouth I had ridden before, it's just delightful as you hit the coast and turn north and then alongside the rickety wooden railway bridge practically touching the train. Jaw dropping vistas of moody sea and sky. The anticipation of the fish and chips, as I was back on known territory to Barmouth.

Brutal hills to Harlech followed straight after Barmouth and brake pad screaming descents too, the scenery was outstanding. Minute lanes, sheep, waterfalls and hillsides and very many gates. 

Gates are a pain with a loaded bike on your own, everyone needs a gate butler. I never did master a slick technique.

It took me 2 hours to find somewhere to camp out of sight accessible and dry enough on Sunday night, but I found a just acceptable spot hidden behind a wall as it got to dusk again.  I had to lift my bike over a gate, paddle through liquid sheep poo and share with sheep. The tent was still soaking and I did not dare light my stove to warm some dahl through (in case of discovery) so ate more mini pork pies (I maxed out calories on 4 meal deals in total!)  and slept very badly as the rain hammered down. The rain drowned out the munching sheep who always surround a tent to keep the occupant awake with their very loud chewing. My new tent kept the rain out (Alpkit Soloist) but condensation was a problem.

My plan for Monday, post tea and a packet latte, I'm getting better at this, was to get to Bangor preferably for a morning train. The weather forecast was drizzle until 9 then supposedly dry but it was biblically wet from the outset and never let up, I was fairly wet getting out of the tent, soaked through by the time the tent was packed. Away by 7.30 and chasing down a pretty good bike path to Caernarfon and a respite from hills, but many more gates.

Given the standing water everywhere it was a relief the surface was good. Caernarfon Castle rose bleakly out of the murk and I got extremely lost trying to get out of town but avoiding the fast crazy road to Bangor that all ways led to, I could not see my Garmin at all in the solid rain, glasses long since discarded. All the little social distancing signs are blue like the Sustrans signs which doesn't help. 

I discarded my carefully transported litter into a near empty bin after this photo, never a full one. Ashamed I'd had to buy water in plastic and not recycled.

David Lloyd George needs to come back and take control I think, he was looking a tad damp but still authoritative.

Eventually I found the Morrisons at the start of the path to Bangor but the dropped kerb at the sign to the path from the car park was not dropped, I found this out as I flew through the air backwards onto my well padded bum whilst yanking my right knee badly as it detached from the pedal. I landed with an almighty splash as the car park was flooded and the water was up to kerb level, hence why I didn't realise it wasn't dropped until too late.

Thank goodness no one saw me and I was so wet anyway it didn't matter, I hobbled the last 15km to Bangor, my knee was searing agony so I put no weight through it and stayed unclipped on my heel, I didn't nip across Menai Bridge as planned, I was more keen on making the 11am train (next Trains for Wales one was 3,  routed via Hereford, being half the price of others routed via Birmingham), which I did. I was anxious I'd not be able to buy a ticket as technically a bike ride across Wales in foul weather is not "essential travel" but I do have a disabled railcard and I am a key worker so I was hoping I wouldn't get turned away, and might have begged if need be. Turns out essential travel only for public transport had been dropped in Wales on that Monday morning and the whole of North Wales was going shopping in Chester, or so it seemed. I dashed to Morrisons for a final meal deal for the train and was back just in time. I dripped, shivered, put on a dry long sleeve merino over my wet short sleeve base layer and then my puffa jacket on top and dry leg warmers. I stank, there was no problem people keeping their distance from me! Most of the shoppers got on after me.

I managed to limp home, with my right heel on the pedal, from Bristol Temple Meads after standing holding my bike on the two trains from Shrewsbury. It had been dry the whole way, my hair had finally dried, puffa jacket stowed, I turned into my village and the heavens opened again, I was totally drenched in the last 5 minutes. I squelched through the front door, very fitting. Apparently I smelt like wet tent.

I did it, on my own. I survived, I evolved plans, I'll do similar again. This was a bit of a try out for something else.... if my knee heals in time. Long distance endurance cycling takes us back to the basics of a working body, eating, resting and avoiding danger. Life revolves around surviving and you tend to forget everything else. Yes I could have a pep talk from a friend as I had a mobile, access to internet, a Garmin to navigate which makes everything a lot easier, but basically it's you vs the elements and topography. As much a mental game as a physical one and I was stretched to the limits on both. The feeling of euphoria (for a very minor expedition compared to others) is still with me. I imagine others get high on drinking/drugs/gambling/closing a deal etc which do nothing for me, but then my career has been abject failure. I get high on reaching a goal and the stunning wildness of the outdoors, it's all very primitive. In some ways I get even more out of it when the weather is dramatic. Nearly everyone I know thinks I'm bonkers, because yes I get a ton out of stretching myself. I don't have to put myself through it but I do.

Thank you Wales.

#WalesNeverFails #Type2Fun

Day 1 Lon Las Cymru Sat 187km 2583m 

Day 2 Lon Las Cymru Sun 147km 2139m 

Day 3 Lon Las Cymru Mon 44km 263m 

378km 4985m

PS Co Op/Morrisons beat Spar meal deals hands down.

Rapha Festive 500 8 days of cycling and eating 24th - 31st December 2019

Rapha Festive 500 2019

I've never attempted the Rapha Festive 500 before. All our family live all over and every Christmas we have lots of people coming to stay over a total of two weeks. It's like a boarding house, and the challenge is to feed 8-10 people 3 meals and snacks every day and not be shopping every couple of days. It makes Festive 500 look like a walk in the park.

This year was going to be my parents staying for a week and no other offspring/partners actually staying for more than 2 nights. I warned mum and dad I was going to be selfish and attempt my first Festive 500, but wouldn't ride on Christmas Day when 2 daughters and their partners were also here for Christmas Dinner. Having just finished, and still being on a high from, my first Randonneur Round the Year or RRtY, I did not want to lose my fitness as I had big plans for 2020. I say "had" as I'm writing this April 2020 and the world has changed somewhat. * 

Mum rang a few days before Christmas, dad had a heavy cold and wasn't up to driving for 5 hours (mum had not long had her second hip replacement so she couldn't take a turn) so we rescheduled a January visit instead. A couple of days later their car packed up anyway and had to go to the scrapyard in the sky, thank goodness that didn't happen on the M6/M5. I felt a bit less guilty.

Rules: Cycle 500 kilometres between 00:01 Tuesday 24th December and 11.59 on Tuesday 31st December 2019 and log your rides. So my plan was a Festive 500 in Christmas Cake sized chunks, no night riding or Full Fat Festive 500 silliness that many friends are doing, tackling the whole challenge in one ride. I did want to mix up rides and also for them to be not unethically flat. 

Additionally, Rapha, who kindly sponsor the Strava Challenge, had announced that the 10th edition was the last time that they would be awarding a Festive 500 cloth badge to all finishers. 2021 on are digital badges only. I loves a badge me! Potentially 8 days cycling, 7 without Christmas day = 71.5km each day. Tactical tips from friends advised to front load as much as possible as the weather and motivation could do anything. I also planned to incorporate any social/club rides happening but I knew I'd be doing chunks solo too.

#Day1 #Festive500 Tues 24th Dec Brockley Combe and Chew Lake

78km 703m

Motivation Corner

So I thought I was being clever and those that snooze do not always lose. I waited until after the torrential rain showers and left at 10.45 for Clevedon via Ashton Court, on my own as the rest of the family who were already here were at work. I finished work yesterday. 

Traffic was very light with a dry stiff westerly blowing and it was all quite lovely (for December) except past Tesco in Clevedon that was snarled up with panic food shoppers. I devoured a quick banana at Motivation Corner, that isn’t Motivation Corner any more. Then I ascended Brockley Combe and the planes flying home for Christmas to Bristol Airport were trying to buzz me and land on my head.

Heavy traffic and sluggy rain accompanied me from Chew Stoke on round Chew Valley Lake and back home. Two quick stops to ring back youngest, who it turned out just wanted to chat in her work break. I resisted cafés which resulted in me being a bit wobbly by the time I arrived home, I need more than a banana for 80km. I raided the mince pies.

Day 1: 78/500km in 1/8 days 125% of 62.5km target 

#Day2 #Festive500 Thurs 26th Dec Ham Lane and Brockley Combe

51km 349m

Ham Lane Kingston Seymour

I did not want to go. It was drizzly with a stiff westerly and nobody wanted to come with me, but I did go and it wasn’t too bad.

"Hamming it up" round Kingston Seymour, I meant to do loops of Kingston Seymour too but missed the turn so I tried powering Brockley Combe and time trialled up and down Weston Road to make sure I at least did 50km today.

I'm behind where I wanted to be but today wasn’t nice, at least I perservered. My reward, the first piece of Christmas cake, there's plenty of marzipan and lots of brandy in it!

Day 2: 130/500km in 3/8 days 69% of 187.5km target

"Hamming it up" Ham Lane Kingston Seymour

Christmas Cake - pleased with this year's cake

Post shower, Christmas present T shirt on

#Day3 #Festive500 Fri 27th Dec 4 1/2 go to Wedmore for coffee plus commute

88km 618m

When you have to be somewhere by a certain time! I only had one working day in the Festive 500 period whereas Steve had three.

I planned a flat route to Wedmore Deli with 4 other brave souls who like cycling on a dank drizzly day. It was a sociable run to Wedmore Deli Café (having checked it was open) with Gary, Pauli and Hugo. Simon eventually caught up with us at the cafe for good coffee and millionaire’s shortbread. 

In theory I had just enough time to get back for work at 1pm and change as well. One minute we were chatting, the next we were horrified to watch Simon fly through the air in slow motion after hitting a submerged pothole. He ripped his brand new jacket and winter tights, his elbow and knee will mend hopefully. A lucky escape.

I made work "just" in time. The heating was not on in the locker room so putting very wet Somerset lanes splattered kit back on 4 hours later was rank for the final 7km home.

Last commute of the decade. Too murky for pics.

Day 3: 218/500km in 4/8 days 87% of 250km target

#Day4 #Festive500 Sat 28th Dec All the As Bs and Cs 10 000km annual target done!

90km 837m

As Bs and Cs Ashton Court-Clifton Suspension Bridge-Clifton Downs-Bristol-Avonmouth Bridge-Clapton in Gordano-Clevedon-Brockley Combe-Chew Stoke-Bishop Sutton-Chew Valley Lake-Barrow Gurney AND IT DIDNT RAIN! 

River Avon from Clifton Downs

I persuaded Steve to come out for some fresh air with me, but it was me who had a bit of a tantrum when I thought we’d decided en route to go to Clevedon via Portishead and not via Portbury as originally planned. Steve disappeared on the huge scary motorway roundabout that definitely wasn't in the plan. I am never doing Gordano Services/M5 roundabout (twice!) and the main road into Portishead again, ever.

Other than that meltdown it was a lovely ride, although Scarletts was way off standard today in Clevedon, we should have gone to Bulwarks Farm. Steve thought I was dragging him off to Weston but I let him go home before Brockley Combe. I needed to get some decent miles in today.

I was hailed in Chew Stoke by pedestrians whom I knew and subsequently chatted with another cyclist who thanked me for the tow around Chew Lake. The climbing was easier today but I didn’t try to bust any guts.

Home made Leek and potato soup and Christmas Cake was so good on my return, I’m doing this in Christmas Cake sized chunks and not in a #FullFatFestive500 kind of a way.

Passing my annual target of 10 000km really made my day. I had passed the original 8 000 km target back at the end of September and revised it. I've been so much more focused this year.

Day 4: 308/500km in 5/8 days 99% of 312.5km target 

Clifton Suspension Bridge

#Day5 #Festive500 Sun 29th Dec BSG to Bulwarks

55km 233m

Bulwarks Farm café

A nice easy regular Backwell Social Group Ride was posted for today. I like social so 7 of us wibbling round the lanes on a dank morning (Steve J, Graham, Rachel, Roger Karl and Chris) until we hit the lovely warm Bulwarks Farm for coffee and a florentine.

Today was mainly chat and cake, I took up Chris’ kind offer to sample his take on Delia Smith’s Chocolate Christmas Torte on the way back. Oh my, even I could only manage a sliver. 140km to go in two days...

Day 5: 363/500km in 6/8 days 97% of target 375km

#Day6 #Festive500 Mon 30th Dec Foggy Frosty Figgy Freezing Full Value First #Festive500 Finale

148km 1244m

Congresbury

I knew I wanted to finish with a proper audax style solo DIY today. It still left me with a day in hand if anything went pear shaped.

So I planned a proper fitting Christmassy celebratory route just shy of 100miles. I made sure there were ethical hills by ascending the Mendips and also ensuring I achieved the Strava December 7500m cycling climbing challenge. I routed round to Rapha at Kilver Court. It seemed fitting to pay homage to the Festive 500 sponsor and their café was definitely open with very generously subsidised coffee and cake for participants. Passing the glorious Gingerbread Inn at Priddy, that is boringly just the Queen Vic the rest of the year, for perfect Christmassy themed pics. Then a blast around the levels to Glastonbury and a loop of Kingston Seymour and Clevedon to finish as I have been there so many times the past week or so.

What a day, it just kept getting better. The forecast was 11 degrees and bright sunshine and not much wind. Somehow I managed to follow the fog, even though I started half an hour later than planned, hoping it would lift. The fog was very dense up on to the Mendips via Burrington Combe and all the way to Shepton Mallet. I did manage some pics of the Gingerbread Inn at Priddy. There were gloating messages on social media of friends riding in glorious sunshine almost everywhere else in the county!

Gingerbread Inn Priddy Somerset aka Queen Vic

I eventually crawled to the Rapha outlet/archive store in Shepton Mallet for my £2 subsidised coffee and cake and to collect an official brevet card. I was absolutely frozen to the core. It had taken me 3 hours to do a third of the route and it was nearly midday. A lovely warm welcome from both Claire and colleagues in the shop, and the fire in the café. I lucked out, there was one humongous almond croissant left. It was the best almond croissant ever with almond paste oozing out and a latte for warmth and calories. I was in the glorious warmth for nearly an hour until everything was defrosted. Then I managed to make a mess finding my way out of Shepton!

Rapha Kilver Court Somerset

The fog only started to lift towards Glastonbury Tor around 2. I had an hour of sun between Glastonbury and Wedmore then it got cold again very quickly but there was a stunning sunset. 

Glastonbury Tor

When the sun finally made an appearance for that hour, just wow. The Somerset Levels were mainly lakes but the circling flocks of birds were an awesome sight that I didn't manage to capture. A sing-songy cacophony.

The Somerset Levels were glorious, the sun was finally out!

I chose the main road to Sidcot over Strawberry Line today for speed. I needed an audax break, so whizzed into the Spar at Winscombe and purchased a sausage roll and ate it next to the bin outside whilst watching an 8yo mastering his skateboarding skills. All that can be said about the sausage roll was that it was fuel and it got me home. After the highlight of the almond croissant that was the definitely the Festive 500 culinary low point. I was just over 100km in with 40km left to blast. I was resigned to some night riding.

Lunch of a revolting sausage roll at Winscombe Spar at 3pm Got me home

I made Kingston Seymour for the glorious sunset and pushed onto Clevedon in spite of the temptation to knock off the corner and just head home. I stuck to the route. The pitch black and swirling freezing fog was very pretty winding home along the known lanes but the last half hour was very challenging to see anything at all. I crawled.

Kingston Seymour at sunset

I made it home to the divine smell of Steve's home made curries bubbling on the stove. What a fantastic welcome at the end of my Festive 500! The memory of the sausage roll was all but obliterated. I'd done it with a day to spare and only half an hour of night riding.

Day 6: 511/500km in 7/8 days 117% of target 437.5km

Official Old Skool Rapha 2019 Brevet Card

#Day7 #Festive500 Tues 31st Dec It’s a farm shop wrap

5km 35m

An extra gratuitous utility ride of 5km for an extra 1% distance

I needed veg and milk, so I went to the Post Office to refill my milk bottles and the farm shop for veg. I also continued to the roundabout to make the ride 5km, so it would count. On principle I don't record rides under 5km. It's a Festive 500 wrap! I've ridden 7/8 days. Just to prove I'm not always a Lycra lout...

Gert my original hybrid/commuter got the final 1% of the Festive500 miles

Day 7: 517/500km in 8/8 days 103% of target 500km

...and a not too shabby total of 4000m of ascent too.

Post commute mid March 2020 my Rapha Festive 500 patch arrived!!

* PS I got in from work one Friday in mid March 2020 utterly exhausted from just 4 hours dealing with panic buying on a supermarket checkout, the world upside down in the midst of Covid-19 pandemic, to find an envelope with my Festive 500 patch in it. It utterly made my day and has inspired me to sit down and write the story down. It's good to look back on what we will eventually be able to get back to. In fact I'm going out for a solo nano permitted exercise ride now. No long distance allowed, just cake sized exercise chunks to keep our bodies and minds fit for purpose. Those chunks all add up to keep us on track, even if we don't know what that track is yet.