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.

Gospel Pass Audax: The Hares and the Tortoises Saturday 4th March 2017

Summit Gospel Pass 2017

So here I go again. Setting the alarm for 5.30am on a Saturday. Why?! One of my girls asked me "why do you do it mum?" The good thing about a lovely cycling friend offering me a lift to Chepstow, and wanting to ride with me at my slow pace, means I cannot let Lynette down. I cannot lose face either after publicly announcing I am having another go at Gospel even though I now know what is coming! Here come the BRCC Gospel Girls Tortoises (Backwell Road Cycling Club)

Lynette picks me up at 6.15am, bikes are already loaded as I took mine round to hers on Thursday night. The dreaded porridge has been consumed (with chia seeds and blueberries) and the sun is coming up as we drive over the old Severn Bridge to Chepstow, with winking red bike lights on the cycle lane as the tough hardy souls riding to the start roll across.

No crises as bikes are unloaded, control cards collected, but all day parking tickets purchased and displayed and fellow BRCC members Simon, Stu and Kate and James are spotted and chatted with. Unfortunately we are one intrepid member down who is very definitely ill and has turned home, get well soon Russ.

A mass start of around 130 I think. The weather is looking good this morning, with forecast showers and increasing south westerly winds this afternoon. No snow.

7.30am departure from Chepstow Castle Picture courtesy of Audax Club Bristol 

Stage 1 Chepstow to Monmouth 28km 404m includes the only info control point. All other evidence of completion will be our control cards being stamped at the 3 control points (cafés and pubs) and at the end. The two sharp ascents out of Chepstow do not allow for a nice gentle warm up. Again I am very slow and steady and Lynette is somewhere off in front. A gathering of the distinctive yellow and royal blue Weston Wheelers jerseys in a lay by indicate a puncture already, or early hedgerow breaks? Of course that was the info control point, we forgot about checking the signpost for the Offa's Dyke long distance path. Kindly Weston Wheelers divulge the answer so all is well.

We chug along, up and down and admiring the beautiful scenery through St Briavels to our first control at Henry's Café in Monmouth. An early stop at just 28km, but I didn't make the same mistake as last year and we made sure to stop for coffee, even if we were already well back in the field <audaxes are not races> Very nice latte!

1st coffee stop - Henry's Café Monmouth

First stamp into our control cards and chatted with Chrissy and Katie from Weston Wheelers who I have "seen" on Strava but never met, they are inspiring cyclists and ever so lovely and friendly too. I dubbed the Weston Wheelers chain gang the "hares" as they shot off, stopped at the info control and we all came into Monmouth at about the same time.

Life Audaxes begin after coffee

So now our audax can properly begin after coffee! The sun was appreciated, felt silly having heavy winter waterproofs stowed away at this point.

Sun shining on Lynette in Monmouth

Could you do Gospel on that?

Stage 2 Monmouth to Hay on Wye 55km 648m

Not quite as much ascent on the Monmouth to Hay-on-Wye section, but it is steady, and we get into the groove. Lynette is off again and I resist the temptation to keep up, I will not make it if I go too fast. I tend to get stronger as the day goes on, but not faster!

We can see Hay Bluff masking Gospel Pass over there:

Hay Bluff from the north

The lovely lanes dip too and from from England to Wales and back again several times.

Looking towards Hay on Wye

Gospel Pass for later!

The wind is getting up and we do enjoy a bit of a tailwind into Hay but not much compared to the headwind for most of the rest of the day.

The best Cherry and Almond Cake, allegedly. Tic 674 is for my beans!

A nice surprise in Hay. My parents are down from Cumbria for a few days, and said I was to carry on with my plans, so Steve did bring them over for a drive and they arrived at The Granary Café in Hay on Wye just before us. Steve did say he thought we should have been making better time, as I had texted to say when we arrived in Monmouth and he thought that was leaving time. Smug git!

We rolled in with the Weston Wheelers again, and also saw Kate and James who had already consumed beans at another café as Granary was heaving. Fortunately the rush was easing and we did wait and order a selection of cakes (everyone else) tea and sensibly I ordered beans for me.  Mum dad and Steve set off to mooch in the book shops and Lynette and I head off out to find it raining, but the road is indicating we have just missed a very torrential downpour. The majority of the field will be up on Gospel Pass, it does pay to be tortoise like sometimes.

Heading out from Granary café with my mum and dad wishing us well.

Section 3 Hay on Wye to Abergavenny via Gospel Pass 34km 555m




With dropping temperatures and strongish winds even in the valley, we set off through the high hedges and past fields with newborn lambs as the climbing starts in earnest. There was a fair amount of traffic and other audaxers and getting up in one go without stopping may be a tall order. It was hard going, at one point several cars halted on the steepest bend and somehow I weaved round everything and kept going, there would have been a slow domino effect of everyone having clipped in falls otherwise. The hares were slowly passing us.

Knowing that the climbing eases up after the treeline made me a bit complacent but the strong headwind hit us as we pulled up and it was a long flog, the last steep pull nearly finished me off, as my parents passed by with a cheery wave from open windows. I was very giddy by the top, and annoyingly hadn't realised that the official Strava segment finished 100m down the other side, I should have kept on going to get an accurate time. Never mind. Lynette arrives seconds later (she had to unfortunately stop for those darned cars) and the Weston Wheelers, and a large walking party gave us all rousing applause. I wondered where the Gospel Choir was, but it was lovely that it was more of a joint celebration of achievement. The highest road pass in wales, Gospel Pass DONE!

Lynette at the top of Gospel Pass

The Gospel Girls

Cereal bars munched, all our layers on for the chilly, wet and cold descent. I lead the hares and the tortoises, glad to have a free view of the road and nice that no idiots came screaming past descending at speed. The road was like a river bed, and my chain was grinding and crunching in an alarming manner on the occasional turn of the pedals. We met a tractor, several cars and a very scary incident of a quad bike with a sheep dog running free alongside coming towards us at a lick of knots. The sheep dog was unflappable and no incidents other than passing other folk with punctures.  We continued through the trees towards Abergavenny and turned the corner onto the main road, still into the wind. The Weston Chain Gang chugged past and Katie said "get in behind" I just managed to hang on for a tow into Abergavenny, or more accurately Mardy. I did not miss the pub this year like I did last year, and we pulled into the Crown and Sceptre, hares and tortoises together. I could not feel my feet at all. Lynette is very slight, a real athlete, she was feeling the cold even more. Large mugs of tea and we slowly came too a little.

Section 4 Abergavenny to Chepstow via Usk 43km 446m

I'm getting quite concerned that it is nearly 4pm and Lynette doesn't have lights. The next 25km are OK ish but then there is one heck of a long grinding climb for 10km before the final descent. I have had helmet lights on all day flashing away,and make sure my industrial commuting lights are fixed on now and used for extra safety as the light is very dull.

The pleasant 25km are dispatched efficiently enough, taking it in turns to lead out. Our Weston pals left before us so we were fairly on our own now. We turn left at Usk and eat something (me) and Lynette downs a caffeine laced gel. I could not revisit gels. I have still only ever consumed one gel in my cycling career, at this point in the audax last year!

I shield Lynette from the traffic (because I have lights, illuminating her reflective stripes on her legs) up the long steady climb. We do not have sufficient daylight time to turn off and do the extra bit on the lanes at the top and stick to the main road. The descent is exhilarating, smooth fast and crud free the road has dried out and there is very little traffic.We havd passed the tandem at the bottom and know we are not last.

We arrive in Chepstow, turn into the Three Tuns pub bang on 6pm. The latest finish time, so we are legal (ish) Reunited with the Weston Wheelers who did the little extra (and then ride back across the bridge after final control) A great day. We thanked the lovely patient organisers, got our cards stamped and left them for validation. We should get them back in the post in a few weeks. I love my collection of audax cards with fun stamps.

A quick wobbly selfie in front of the castle a the sun sets. We are very pleased with ourselves. We wrestle the bike rack back on to the car, load the bikes and we're on our way.

My right foot finally thawed out in the shower at home two hours after the finish. Left foot pink, right one white. No lasting frostbite. Chinese takeaway and red wine devoured.


The Gospel Girls had a great day out, and I was relieved we were not last, and we had no mechanicals or accidents. Thank you Lynette! March Strava Gran Fondo also completed, that's 15 months in a row now.

We made the arrivée at Three Tuns Pub next to Chepstow Castle by dusk 18.00

Gospel Pass Audax lumps and bumps 12th March 2016 actual with 2017 preview

Of everything scheduled for the first half of 2016, "Gospel" was the biggest one for me. The guys at BRCC (Backwell Road Cycling Club) love the 100km audaxes, but they are not such a big challenge for seasoned cyclists, they regularly do 200km, 300, 400, 600 and sometimes 1200km audaxes. However, although "only" 150km or about 100 miles, Gospel Pass is not that extreme in length but...it goes over Gospel Pass, at 550m the highest road pass and longest road climb in Wales. There is 2000m of climbing in total. It often snows as scheduled early in the season, and 'The Pass' is climbed from the steep side ie Hay on Wye to Abergavenny on this Audax. The "big one" is two thirds of the way round. A bump in the lumps.

Doris resting at the top of Gospel Pass

I knew the other guys would be a lot faster, and I did not want people feeling like they had to wait for me, so I roped Steve in to "support" me. Technically against audax rules but he did not follow me round in the car, nor give me 'stickies', or indeed supply me with anything in-between control points. His intention was to watch the exciting final Six Nations England vs Wales match in the pub/s! Importantly, I knew that if it all became too much, or I had a mechanical, or fell off and hurt myself, that I could be rescued. 

I made a few enquiries, and everyone's answer without fail was "Gospel is a toughie" It's a long way, it snows and it's not just 'The Pass'. Their body language did imply that perhaps 'I might not be up to it'...and 'was it wise trying?' Unspoken, and all kindly meant, but it did become a matter of pride. As long as it wasn't icy or totally ridiculous conditions I was going to give it my all, I owed it to Steve dragging him over to Wales for the day to drive round in the car and hang about for ten hours, and then to give up wasn't fair! 

The Garmin is helping with the small matter of route finding. There is no way I can read route sheets going along, but the Garmin seems to not work sometimes, and seize up. All my fault generally but it always happens when you most need it.

Kick off is 8am from Chepstow Castle Car Park. The BRCC guys were riding over from Aust to save the bridge fee, but I needed every last leg mile for the route. I rode a 200km event called 'Break the Cycle' last summer, that was 1750m of height, but I had not done as much prep as I'd like and March is not July weather wise! We passed some cycliss riding over the bridge as the sun rose, arriving at 7.40 to find it was allowable to start early, so already I was behind. Fortunately the very lovely Pete (he of the exploding tyres and congenial company on Jack and Grace and Flapjack Audaxes) had waited for me, deciding that chasing Russ, Gary, Simon and co was not his idea of a pleasant day out.

Pete had the disadvantage of knowing exactly what was ahead.The weather was as good as it gets in March, almost into double figures by midday, dry and a light breeze. Absolutely no excuses to back out and blame the weather either.

So the first half is Chepstow to Monmouth and up to Hay-on-Wye, about 90km. I started off even more ploddier than normal, I know if I start "fast for me" I will never make it. So Pete was a few hundred metres ahead, and I huffed and puffed up those initial and not insubstantial first few "lumps." Steve's plan was to drive up to Hay, have a decent breakfast 'full English' and then ride back until he met us coming out of Monmouth, so he had had a reasonable flat ride as he hasn't been riding during the winter.

Monmouth was too soon for cake and coffee, we pushed on. Boy was I to regret that decision later! The cake cabinet was stunning.

The next bit was relatively OK up to Hay. We spotted Steve riding towards us and teamed up as a three, but Pete and I were struggling. We needed food. So a quick downing of cereal bars and life improved quite a bit. We pulled into the control at Hay on Wye. Our mileage was at 90km (yes I cycle in kilometres not miles!) or just over half way, in horizontal terms, not really started on the vertical. We passed all those lovely book shops but no time to stop and read today.

A three quarters of an hour break for the best beans on toast ever in Hay on Wye. Perfect audax food. We marched off at 1pm for the "big one". The climbing started straight away, and we had to pause to let some cars past, and take off boil in the bag jackets.

I stay in granny gear and chug, and chug some more. At some point Pete stopped, I carried on chugging. Five minutes later our car, with Steve, Pete and Pete's bike on the back too pass me with a cheery wave from a relieved Pete that he may get to see the rugby after all. I stand up for a short while, sit back down again. I am mesmerised by the couple on the yellow tandem and their efficient cadence, they pull ahead.

But it is opening up into moorland. In the deepest recesses of my brain I remember someone saying the worst is over once it opens up above the tree line. They were right. I kept on going, not daring to stop. A much younger rider strolls past me, I have a suspicion it is Janine, who is a BRCC member but I haven't yet met in real life as opposed to online, she tends to ride speedy with Bristol clubs. We exchange a few words, and I pass her when she stops to take photos. I still cannot decide if keeping going was the best decision. I have so few photos of the day as a result. I make it to the top!

Top of Gospel Pass, tiny patches of old snow

I am on cloud nine literally and figuratively speaking, but I am not with anyone to celebrate which is quite sad. No sign of Steve (I later find out that all the parking spaces were taken so they couldn't stop) I ate something. Janine arrived and offered to take a photo, I had taken my decent jacket off and had an old shiny jersey on which is mortifying. But I suppose I look like a #ThisGirlCan picture with my great belly rolls.

Doris and I at the summit of Gospel Pass

Now the small matter of the long descent into Abergavenny. It went on and on, I was very cautious, with wet, gravelly and pot holey surfaces I did not let rip. A few people shot past. We had come up the steeper side. It was wooded valley, and the Garmin had frozen. I followed signs for Abergavenny and eventually arrived in the town centre around 3.30pm. I could not find any evidence of a pub with lots of bikes outside. I walked up and down the high street asking. A few cyclists shot past, obviously audaxers but not looking like they were stopping. I asked a couple of guys outside one pub who sent me up to the pub at the other end of the high street. Nobody there. I was angry, but it turns out that that was the pub used last year so they were not being vindictive!

Finally I call Steve. They are sat at the pub a few miles back up the road at the control point. No way am I retracing my steps. All I want is tea and cake, The organisers say I can produce a receipt instead of stamping my card at the control, so I try to find a cafe and fail, well any where I can see my bike and there is a seat. so I go to the take away place at the bus station where the bikers congregate and buy a Styrofoam mug of tea, use the public toilets and eat some cereal bars and nuts, carefully stowing the receipt.

Steve and Pete turn up as I'm finishing up, having wasted a huge amount of time. I am very despondent but decide that the worst is over and after all these highs and lows I am going to show some spirit and bloody well finish. It would have been so easy to have got in that car. It was 4pm already and a good 40km plus to go, including a long hill between Usk and Chepstow, cruel in the last 15km.

Towards Usk

I tried as hard as I could to keep my speed up as I knew I needed to finish by 6 to technically be in time, a tall order. It was hard work and lonely, I didn't see anyone else, I presumed I was last by miles and felt a bit useless. Even though it's not a race pride is at stake. The lack of proper food in Abergavenny was showing. I stopped in Usk on a corner and decided there was nothing for it, I was going to have to have a dreaded gel.

I have always carried gels for emergencies, so far in my cycling life I have never got to a serious enough situation to warrant one. I'm a real food person. Electrolyte drinks on long rides fine, but gels do not appeal. The sickly sweet gloopy consistency. Ugh. Perhaps today I am finally trying hard enough. I try to squish it down like medecine, it makes an utter mess, tastes absolutely disgusting and I nearly retch as another audaxer goes past. Hurrah, I wasn't last when I thought I was although I probably am now, but how embarrassing if I had thrown up!

I push on and grind up that hill, it was steady and relentless and I actually felt OK, I kept going, singing to myself. The gel did work, but my stomach felt horrible.

I hate to say I cheated a little and didn't take the last pull up to the top on minor roads, but stayed on the main road and back down to Chepstow. 

I rolled into the pub, utter relief, walked straight past Steve without seeing him in my rush to get my card stamped, it was 6.15.  Kindly they did so, my receipt was fine and a few more people came in behind me so my spirits were back up there again. After all that suffering I had done it and wasn't last. I'll never be first, I can take not being last.

Back to the car park by the castle and Steve snaps a few photos, after a lot of hassle he finally gets the whole castle in. He wanted to get home!

Gospel Pass Audax - Done

Walking backwards to get one with whole castle

Not too shabby in the end, I finished.

I have now finally written it up to persuade myself that I can do it all over again this Saturday. Totally sure I can't at present as I've had less preparation and this year I'm at the disadvantage of knowing what is coming! But I managed 15 days of riding like that in Scotland on Tour d'Ecosse, same height over less miles. I should be able to do it.

Watch this space, A gel may have to be utilised for a second time!

12th March 2016 Gospel Pass Audax 160km  1978m climbing

It all started because....

2016 is another year. Another great year. Another year to continue living the best way we can. In my case that involves prioritising family, cycling, knitting and cooking/eating! Getting Motivated!!

Motivation Corner near Nailsea, North Somerset March 2016.

The 50th birthday is a cliché. I am writing that in a deliberate third person detached way. I did not want to be 50, I feel like I'm 19 1/2 still, but less responsible than I was back then. But we are both now 50, Steve and I have been together since we met as 19yo students. We have 3 great daughters, all now over 18. We are very lucky.

So I have set myself a challenge. I started commuting by bike in a new county when we moved to Somerset (from Gloucestershire) in early 2013. I needed to lose weight and get fitter after years of semi immobility and a resulting knee replacement in my early 40s. I was very active in my teens and twenties; sailing, skiing (hence the knee problem) mountaineering, camping and a general lover of the outdoors. 

I was going to join the posh gym but a bike is only the price of three months gym membership. I am still riding my faithful hybrid "Gert" three years later. She has paid for herself many times over, financially and figuratively speaking. She got me hooked on cycling. I ride therefore I am a cyclist. No ifs no buts, doesn't matter how old/young, fast or slow, cool kit or ancient rust bucket. Anyone who rides a bike should be celebrated for their achievements.

Fast forward to the summer of 2014. I discovered the cycling app Strava, met a couple of other cyclists through the fabulous resource of twitter and social media We took our bikes for a long weekend to Bala in North Wales. I entered us for our first sportive. an Evans Ride It 115km starting in Wells and including the iconic Cheddar Gorge. Our first ascent of the gorge. I did it on my hybrid Gert, a good 1000m of ascent too, I know I got laughed at by the trendy "roadies" and unfortunately I crashed and burned 20m from the end on a cobbled rumble strip and bust my ribs. An evening in A&E ensued. The following week, somehow, I managed to fly to Thailand for a long anticipated two week 'active' holiday. Once my knees healed I managed some snorkelling, but no cycling. The food was good!

After our holiday in October 2014 I bought my roadie, Doris. We rode to Wells to visit the Christmas Market in December. My ribs were still quite sore! Doris felt strange, more of a thoroughbred to be tamed than my solid pony Gert.

Over Christmas I procrastinated, I had been working hard on getting my speeds up so that I could ride with others. Roadies go fast, 25km/h seemed normal from Strava research. I needed to be well over 20km/h I felt, to not be an embarrassment to myself, I was not fast enough. I decided to go for it and went along for my first club ride with Backwell Road Cycling Club BRCC). A lovely informal club. That was Sunday 4th January 2015. A 100km outing to Wales starting from Backwell in North Somerset. "If I got left behind I will never go again" I said. They were nice and encouraging and didn't leave me behind. There were lots of firsts. Cycling over the Severn Bridge to Chepstow, Conquering Belmont Hill and Portbury Slog as I call it. Riding with more than one other person. Riding round the block to make the ride up to 100km...yes I did! I was on a high.

Later that same night Steve was taken ill, he had been on the golf course all day and was his usual self, fit and well up to that point, 49 years old.  Not "that" ill but ill enough for me to be concerned. I rang NHS Direct at 11pm. At 5am he was wheeled into surgery for emergency life saving cardiac surgery, by a specialist team called in at the end of the New Year Bank Holiday weekend, having been diagnosed with an acute ascending aortic dissection, Type A.  This is a very rare cardiac condition that we had never heard of before either. No history of high blood pressure, no other chronic health concerns, healthy lifestyle, not overweight (well a couple of pounds but who isn't?) We now know that less than 10% survive, mainly because diagnosis is not easy, and even if it is diagnosed a specialist cardiac surgeon with the skills and experience to operate are also few and far between. We were lucky that the Bristol Heart Institute was next door to Bristol Royal Infirmary A&E where he was taken. I swear the registrars that night had been up for 4 days, I am sure one had odd shoes on. They were efficient, kind, professional and amazing. They diagnosed a rare condition and acted swiftly to save Steve's life. I will not start a political rant, but without a 24 hour 7 day a week NHS Steve would not have survived.

His surgeon, Alan Bryan, rang me at midday on Monday 5th January 2015. The operation had gone as well as it could. Since every landmark has pretty much been as good as it gets. He has recovered remarkably well. Back at work after 2 months and riding his bike again. The first 15km ride to Bristol Harbourside in March was just so good. He does have to be "careful" No extreme "explosive activity" like scuba diving or squash. Obviously it is harder for him, but he has played his best ever round of golf in the past 12 months, and completed a 100km bike ride on Ile de Ré last summer. No thrashing up hills allowed, but taking it steadily is fine.

So now I want to give something back. Hence my "I heart cycling 2016 challenge". Selfishly involving my hobby. Raising money for specific training of specialist cardiac surgeons into the aortic grafting technique that Mr Bryan and his fully trained team carried out that night. Heart Research UK are organising these, but each two day course for 20 surgeons costs £25000 I also want to help towards raising awareness of aortic dissection so more people are diagnosed and treated before it is too late.

 Virgin Money Giving I Heart Cycling donation page

"Today is a good day." Aortic Dissection Awareness Day Sept 19th 2016