L'enfer Du Nord - The Fred Whitton Four Seasons - Take Two

Please note all the photos can be clicked on to see the full size picture.

With due deference to the famous cycling race, Paris-Roubaix,(aka L'enfer du Nord - The Hell of the North), the Fred Whitton Challenge could easily take on the same name for someone like me who lives in the south of England.
After having to abandon the challenge on Monday 4th April (see previous post)  due to horrendous weather, we continued to check the weather forecast for another window of opporutnity - Wednesday seemed to be a good day following a wet start - Thursday seemed even better.
Amanda's sister Jenny had arrived for a couple of days break and decided to tag along in the support vehicle to keep each other company - really kind  of her as she is not a cyclist and must have been pretty bored, but it was a real help to Amanda.
It had rained all of Tuesday and following the 50 mile abandoned ride we spent Tuesday walking around the  Aira Force waterfall near Ullswater - not the ideal preparation for the legs but the whole week did not quite go as planned in a cycling sense.
At 5am on Wednesday 6th April we awoke to ....... rain. Never mind, it was forecast and was scheduled to clear up fairly early, so we got the car loaded up (putting my cycling shoes in first).
As we drove to Coniston and the start point it was throwing it down again, and there was more than a little aprehension in the car as we could see it all happening again. Amanda was very quiet, I just wanted to get going and Jenny just thought we were both mad (she was probably right).
This time though, things were different. We had remembered my shoes, my mp3 player and I didn't drop my phone - bonus.

And so it was that I "dobbed" my card in at the start point and got underway, heading for the first climb of the day at Hawkshead Hill.
I remember enjoying this climb first time around and this was even better now that I had the correct footwear on. It was still raining, if more lightly, but it was still pretty dark.

Things continued to improve when I also didn't take a wrong turn at the top of Hawkshead Hill, and headed down the descent - carefully. The roads were soaking wet and the heavy rain of the previous days had washed a fair bit of debris onto the roads, just making you watch your step a bit.

Moving on around the head of lake Windermere and through Ambleside the rain finally began to ease and this was welcome as I turned left to Troutbeck and began the steep introduction to the start of Kirkstone Pass again.

I arrived at the top for the fourth time during the week and yet again it was shrowded in fog. You can just about make me out logging in at the checkpoint.
There was so much moisture in the air that the video camera started to pack up.

Heading quickly off down towards Ullswater the road was wet and slippy, so anxious not to create any problems, I took it nice and steady and hit the climb to Matterdale End in good spirits.....

......then I saw it...... The Sun..... admittedly only milky behind the clouds, but neverless it was there.

The wind was also beginning to pick up but this was not a problem at this stage - it was just nice to have the sun coming out.

Here you can see the conditions getting better as I start to descend from Matterdale End towards the long stretch along the A66. Not a nice section really, yes it is fast and there is a "safe" strip to the side of the road but this disappears for a while and the wind blows you into the road, especially when it gusts. The "cats eyes" are also very high so are a real potential problem when they are wet.
The next stage of the route takes you through Keswick, past Derwent Water, through Borrowdale and on to Seatoller which is at the base of the first real test of the day, Honister Pass. It was at the top of this climb that I had to abandon on the Monday due to the terrible weather conditions. I took a quick stop at the public loos here and a wringing out of the socks (there was no hand dryer unfortunately) before the climb probably saved me a few extra grams of weight.

Today was different though, the 25% warning sign at the bottom did not seem quite as daunting with dry roads and a quick look over my left shoulder gave a view of a group of school children "river running" in the gushing water at the side of the road.

I was setting a (very) steady pace, not wanting to tire myself out both in terms of the climb but also because, at 48 miles I was still 8 miles from the half way point.
This climbs teeth are all at the start with a sustained, very steep section which gradually gets steeper until you pass over a cattle grid when the gradient relaxes until a steepening towards the end. Halfway up the steepest section, I realised that my front tyre was starting to go down - I couldn't believe it. The road is so steep here that I was struggling to find a spot to park the bike up so that I could repair the puncture. I put the new tube in, checked the inside of the tyre and used my mini compressor to inflate the tyre. The tyre seemed really hard, but that is the whole idea of the compressor I thought, so I put the wheel back on and got in position to continue - no mean feat when the road is so steep and you have to clip back into cleated pedals....
I must have got five yards maximum before there was a huge bang from my front tyre. I looked down and saw my tyre off the rim - that's it I thought my ride is over - but on closer inspection the tube had blown and the tyre had simply been blown of the rim. My only option was now to repair the original tube and pump it up (by hand), but knowing how long this would take, I thought that I had better ring Amanda and tell her what was going on as she had gone on ahead to go to the slate mine with Jenny- no signal, not for the first time.

By the time I had repaired the tube and pumped the tyre up I had probably wasted about 20-25 minutes and finally reaching the top of the climb, in strengthening winds, Amanda and Jenny were waiting at the top, frozen, and had not even been in the mine shop as they didn't want to miss me.
As I passed I said that I would meet them at the Buttermere check-in point where I could "stop the clock", use the facilities and wait for them.
Once the girls arrived I replenished my stocks of food and water, changed my soaking wet socks, fully pumped up my front tyre and headed off for my favourite climb, Newlands Pass.

I love the way that the road clings onto the side of the mountain. I think it is the most scenic of all the passes that I have done in the lakes.
The spectacular Moss Force waterfall awaits at the top before that best, fastest and most exhilarating decent on the whole route, as the road is fairly straight and you can see everything in front of you and before you know it you are arriving in Braithwaite and the start of Whinlatter Pass....

.....which is fairly straightforward with two or three steep sections to keep you honest and the whole climb is sheltered by trees so, no wind and pleasant shade. As you can see from the photo,  the sun was now shining and for the first time in the week I took off my rain jacket and stuffed it in my back pocket and looked forward to the descent and the section of the route that I had never done before

Normally, the descent from Whinlatter is long and fast but the wind was now fully blowing and was it was really slowing me down as I headed towards the next climb - the beautifully named Fangs Brow - followed by Kelton Fell.

Amanda and Jenny had taken a well earned lunch break at the Whinlatter visitor centre and they did not catch me back up until the climb of Cold Fell.

This is the upper section of Cold Fell, which is not the most invitingly named place that I have ever come across but the climb is a nice one with spectacular views to the coast on your right hand side. As the name suggests though it is very open and that meant that the whole climb was straight into the wind - very punishing indeed and my whole body was starting to feel really tired and I was very conscious of not pushing too hard knowing full well what was not too many miles away....

The descent from Cold Fell takes you straight to the final check-in station at Calder Bridge.....

......but all this is just the prelude of course to the main event. The route now heads through Gosforth and Santon with a short climb up Irton Pike and a descent into Eskdale Green. By this stage though you have cycled about 95 miles and all you can think about is Hardknott Pass.

The irony is that this is really the longest, flattest part of the whole ride, but as you ride down the Eskdale Valley alongside the railway you get a glimpse of what faces you next. I have read so many peoples accounts of this climb and so many descriptions, but one of my favourites describes Hardknott Pass as looking like "Mordor" in the distance..... but not today. For the first time I was seeing Hardknott in the sunshine, and it really is an incredible sight. The road was built by the Romans and how they managed it, I have no idea.

By the time you see this sight, you have already been through the killer first section,over the cattle grid and past the car park. This is the so called "flat section" which in reality is around a 7% to 9% gradient.

As I looked ahead a car had stalled on the infamous 33% left hand hairpin bend and had had to reverse down and have another go.

My legs were dead by now and I would like to say that I bombed up without any fuss but that wasn't the case - I did ride every single inch of the pass but I had to stop a couple of times to catch my breath.

I was greeted at the top by my lovely lady who had driven all the way to the top - no mean feat believe me, and she still had the other side to drive down which is probably worse as the road is more twisting and the road surface is very poor. I has been likened to "riding down the side of a house" It really is a nerve shredding experience with your brakes on full throughout, your arms locked and your weight as far back as you dare.

Once down, all that remains is the short, spectacular ride up the Duddon Valley to the foot of Wrynose Pass.

Wyrnose is another formidable climb but it is much easier from this side, and although very steep, is do-able. This picture shows me coming up Wrynose with Hardknott in the background, looking like a river as the road is wet.

With the descent of Wrynose complete all that remained was the final run into Coniston to the finish - about seven miles but it seems to take an eternity and I had nothing left to give. I almost rolled to the final check-in.

....and here is the final moment 111.7 miles, 8 hours 52 minutes and 7838 calories later, I dobbed my card in and The Fred Whitton Four Seasons was complete - a great, scenic but formidable and tough ride - highly recommended.

All that remains is to say that I instantly tried to put on some of those calories lost by having the biggest plate of chilli and nachos I could manage, and to be fair, if you have managed to read all of this, you probably deserve some too.

Here is a little video that I have created of the day - and don't forget to watch it in HD - just click the 240 or 360 in the bottom right corner of the player and change to 720.



Next stop, the Dragon Ride......

The Fred Whitton Four Seasons - Take One

Having arrived in the Lake District on Sunday afternoon to beautiful weather with almost no wind, I avidly watched the weather forcast to try and see which day would be the best to do the challenge.
I wanted to get the challenge done as quickly as I could so I was hoping that the Monday would be OK.
I looked as though the morning would be fine, but that rain and strong winds would arrive at around 10am and be set in for the rest of the day.
The wind though was to be coming in from the South-West and that would mean that it would be helping me over Hardknott and Wrynose but hurting on Honister (little did I know).
My plan was to set off at first light and be through Ambleside and Windermere before the school run, then hopefully past the stretch along the A66 before the road got too busy. I have cycled in Lake District rain before, so I thought that I would be pretty well prepared as it pretty much always rains here - the perfect plan - wrong.
Today, everything went wrong that could go wrong. We were so well organised it was untrue. I loaded up with all the usual stuff, puncture kit, pump, gels, food, jelly babies you name it.
Amanda, acting as my support vehicle had a satnav programmed with the whole route and all the checkpoints marked so she could follow me round, (or so we thought), spare inner tubes, large pump, change of gloves and so on.
We arrived at hills garage at 6.30am (a little later than I had hoped but it was a beautiful morning), and began getting everything ready. It started with my phone falling out of my pocket and falling on a grate, but fortunately it did not fall through, but I was all ready to go five minutes later, just my shoes to put on - arrrrrggggghhhhh!!! - I had forgotten to put them in - the one thing that you cannot do with out when you have road pedals is cleated shoes. At the same time Amanda was discovering that the route had inexplicably not transferred to her satnav and she had no reference of the route - something that she was not comfortable with at all. What to do...... Amanda insisted that she wanted to go back to the house and download the route on to the satnav and at the same time would pick up the shoes...... Something that was actually quite doable since that first part of the route almost took me back to where we are staying, near the foot of Kirkstone Pass.
And so it was that I started what is possibly the hardest cycle route in the U.K wearing trainers with overshoes on pedals specifically designed for cleated, hard soled shoes. It was awful.
Amanda took the most direct route back to the house while I headed for the first climb of the day, Hawkshead Hill - a lovely climb but I hated it. Every bump in the road, everytime I changed gear, my feet would jump off the pedals and those squishy trainer soles soaked up a good deal of my effort. A slight wrong turn at the top did nothing to improve my mood, but I was gradually getting used to it.
Once through Ambleside, I turned left and started the long climb up Kirkstone Pass (which I have done before but not from this direction)  - still no sign of Amanda though so I pressed on, and tried to film some of the stunning views on my helmet camera - still no sign of Amanda. Continually looking over my shoulder I was expecting her to come past me at any minute, since it was over an hour since we went our different ways - still no sign - she must already be at the top waiting for me - can't wait to get my proper shoes on - still no sign. Oh crud, I had been filming the ascent, with the blinking lens cap on. How dosy can you get - what next I started to think, are there enough signs now to tell me that this is not the day I should be doing this.
The top of Kirkstone Pass was now just ahead, shrowded in mist but still dry and there was no Amanda. Where could she be?...... I swiped in at the check point and pulled out my phone - no signal. Two other cyclists had appeared by now and one was generous enough to lend me her phone, which did have a signal. Turns out that Amanda had tried to intercept my route, but I had already gone past the point that she had decided to wait. I had already been at the top of Kirkstone Pass for ten minutes and the wind was really picking up - I was starting to get really cold. Amanda said that she would get there as quick as she could but it was 15 minutes before she arrived - I was shivering now and was so delighted to get my shoes on and going again that I forgot to check back out at the timing point. Not really a problem as any chance I had of doing a good time had already gone and now the 30 minute wait would not be removed from my total time.
Pressing on, things seemed to be going remarkably smoothly as I rounded Ulswater and turned left to begin the climb of Matterdale End.
Amanda had got ahead and was taking photos and I went over the top and began refuelling on gels, water etc while there was chance, as the route was about to reach the fast stretch of the A66.
Glancing at the time, it was 9.21am when I felt the first spots of rain and by the time I got half way down the A66, I had to pull my glasses down so I could look over them while they still kept most of the wind and rain out of my eyes. It was really starting to come down now though and I had turned into the wind so that it was now coming from about 10 o'clock, occasionally blowing me into the road a little.
"What have I done to deserve this?" I remember thinking, but determined not to get demoralised I thought, that this wind would help me later. It's not going to beat me - it's thrown a lot at me today - it's trying to make me give in. That is when I got a front wheel puncture. Amanda had gone on ahead but could not have helped anyway. The road was too busy and 15 minutes later I was back on the road. Still smiling through gritted teeth.
The next section is basically there to deliver you to the foot of Honister Pass (which again I have done but from the other side), and is scenic but not overly taxing, other than that the rain just came down harder and harder, and the wind just got stronger and stronger.
Honister Pass is stunning from this, the Seatoller side. It has a stream running all the way on the left hand side ( for stream, now read raging torrent) but it starts very steep and water was gushing over the walls on the side and down the road. Traction was beginning to get difficult, and the wind was now straight into my face, and just never let up.

Hope this picture does it justice - this is right at the top of Honister Pass looking east. Click it to see the full size picture. Many thanks to Amanda for braving the rain to get this photo.

Never have I cycled in such adverse conditions - even Cairn O'Mount, which was also very windy, but was at least dry. As I got past the steeper sections the trees disappeared and the wind had nothing to to even slightly break it up. I can remember thinking to myself  "this just isn't fair. I am on a super tough climb in torrential rain and a headwind strong enough to almost blow you over".
Finally the top and Amanda waiting at the Slate Mine. She beckoned me inside, and said "I want you to stop, the decsent off here is too steep and the whole road is covered in running water". She was right, but I didn't want to admit defeat. "You can stop here and restart another day", she continued, "It's too dangerous".
I spent around 10 minutes deliberating it in my mind, but when I removed my jacket to find both my shirt and base layer soaked I realised that, coupled with sopping wet sock, shoes and overshoes, I had probably carried an extra 5 kilos up that hill. Amanda was right - it was time to stop - but rejoin at the same point, never.
The weather looks good for Wednesday and Thursday so I will go to the start and try again. I have come all this way to do the whole challenge, so that is what I will do........... Until then.