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.

When You Fall Off Your Bike...... Get back on etc etc

Had a great weekend just gone. Amanda took her cycling ladies out for a jaunt around the Hatchets Pond area and I elected to do my so called Killer route again - this time doing the whole route and not falling off.
The weather has been very dry for March and nice daytime temperatures with little breeze made for a perfect cycing day.
I did do the whole route - nearly fifty miles in 2 hours 50minutes with an average speed of 17.3 mph. Got home feeling good and happy that my climbing legs seem to be coming back. Just as well since the timing chip for the Fred Whitton Four Seasons arrived yesterday - no turning back now, and in a way, I am actually starting to look forward to it. Huge challenge.
I had a go with a helmet camera while on the route and got some (very shaky) footage of Winchester Hill and Beacon Hill which I will edit and then put on here - when I work out how to.
Old Winchester Hill

Beacon Hill

Sunday brought another superb day for weather and myself and Amanda took to the New Forest for a gentle 64 mile route that she designed. Very good it was to with a few areas that I had not been to before.
Lake District next week and hopefully a report on a successful Fred Whitton Challenge.
Hardknott ( and Honister, and Wrynose, and Matterdale, and Kirkstone, and Whinlatter) here I come! - bet they are not very scared.....

Al's First Crash

It has been a sore week, and hence the reason for no update following last weekend.
Amanda was at her Mum and Dad's and I was looking forward to getting out following a week off the bike to regenerate tired limbs.
I have protected my Madone all winter and resisted the temptation to take him out during the winter months to protect him from salt and mud, but following a dry period, I decided that this should be the first time I take him out this year.
I felt like climbing so I thought a route that I had used as training for London to Paris, which I had called the "Killer", would be ideal - although having done Exmoor and the Lake District since this route, it's killer status is somewhat diminished.
What a difference - I love my trek 1.2 but the Madone is just a completely different beast. Everything about it is fast and responsive, and it seems to want to go up hills.
The Killer route takes in two different ascents of Beacon Hill and the three steepest ascents of Old Winchester Hill.
Unsurprisingly it has a warning sign at the bottom but this is a fairly long climb with a steep start that then steadies off to around 7%.

I fairly bombed up this bit and even had time to ride one-handed to take some pics on the way  up

Feeling suitably pleased I descended down towards West Meon and then turned right, up a short sharp hill and towards Coombe.

This stretch of road is lovely as it clings to the side of a hill in a heavily wooded area. The road was covered in debis and I can rememeber thinking to myself to be careful - only to come a cropper.

Turning left towards a farm building, my front wheel hit a patch of mud and slid away from under me, I nearly got control back but then hit the loose garvel in the middle of the road - down I went. It happened so quickly that I can't really remember what hit what but I picked myself up (very shakily) so see some (thankfully) minor damage to my bike, but as the shock subsided, more painful bits became apparent.

The shredding to my top was the first giveaway as I felt pain in the left side of my chest, but also pain around my right elbow and left thumb, both of which were swelling up as I watched.

Realising I was in shock, I sat down on a wall for a bit and started checking my phone and music player, all of which seemed undamaged. Relieved, I looked up to see a elderly gentlemen making his way towards me with a mug in his hand - This very kind man had seen me come off while he was in the car park of the Meon Springs Fly Fishery and had made me a cup of coffee - what a lovely, kind thought, and many thanks to him.

After probably 15 minutes I thought, "this is no good, I am about as far from home as I could be and I have got to get home before things really start to hurt". Getting back on I now realised that my right hand was also hurting just below the palm. Still, I thought, I have full movement in everything so nothing is broken.

The first obstacle to overcome was the ascent of Old Winchester Hill from one of the North Easterly routes which are by far the steepest - I used to think that these were horrendous but it wasn't too bad on this occasion and I got to the top with no issues.

Riding home was not too bad either. I got in and after cleaning my bike down, I got straight into the bath and found various scrapes, a nasty burn to my right forearam and a very sore left thumb.

One week on and I have been back out on the bike with Amanda and have all but repaired...... all in all a very lucky escape.

Ditchling Beacon, Steyning Bostal and Confidence

Confidence is all about state of mind and perception.... Mine has taken a bit of a dent recently as I seem to be lacking my usual power and I am reaching for smaller gears when normally I can power through....

With Amanda meeting some of her friends for coffee and a night out, I thought it was an ideal time for me to do some more hill training, and the fact that she did not need the car meant that I could go a bit further afield from my usual training areas.
Ditchling Beacon had been on my mind as a significant climb within a distance that I could get to. Not only that but, after consulting my 100 greatest cycling climbs book, there was another, Steyning Bostal that I could do in the same ride.
I poured over the maps the night before and tried to make sense of a route which was becoming increasingly awkward to plot due the fact that both the climbs, once completed, descended to the (very) main A27 which is a dual carriageway and not a road that I wanted to take on.
It meant plotting a route that, once over this first climb, meant going over what I thought was going to be a bridge to get across - wrong! - I had to navigate the central barriers and then take a rather convoluted route through Shoreham-on-Sea in order to get back the other side of the South Downs for the climb of Ditchling Beacon which is from the north side, beginning in the lovely town of Ditchling.
So, Saturday morning I set off early for Storrington which I thought would be an ideal starting point, and so it proved with a nice little spot on a side street easy to find.
As I started to get changed, I felt cold - not that surprising since in the last few days the weather has turned much more winter-like, but still, not the best start.
I loaded myself up to the hilt with all the necessary tackle and some jelly babies, 4 snickers, 3 energy gels and a banana ( I was determined to make sure that I had enough to not suffer - or so I thought). After donning my rain jacket I set off for Steyning, which is a charming town at the northern base of the South Downs. A right turn later and I was at the bottom of the first climb - Steyning Bostal.

You pass a sign saying something like "narrow road with passing points" - all climbs seem to have this - and then you rise gradually until you meet a road coming in from the right. You then swing left and the gradient increases markedly as you pass a sheer chalk face and as the road then sweeps steeply around to the right you reach the summit and a long flat stretch before a fast descent interupted sharply by the A27.



Some 20 miles later I was beginning to wonder if I would ever arrive at Ditchling. Yet again I was beginning to feel tired and despite taking regular food and water, my feet and hands had only just warmed up.
I finally did reach the town and was a little disappointed that I did not have time to hang around longer as it really is a picture. I was also surprised at how busy it was but I definately had a sense of expectation building in me.
As I turned onto Beacon Road the road was flat enough but full of traffic. This clearly was a little different from the previous climb and the reason is that this is a major route into Brighton - I wasn't quite prepared for that.
The road continues for some time at a gentle pitch before you come across a left hand bend and this is where the climb begins in earnest as the gradient increases sharply and you head into a heavily wooded area. This steep section is sustained and the road snakes as it clings to the side of the Downs, emerging from the woods briefly, before becoming even more steep, whilst affording incredible views of the surounding area to the North.

The view quickly disappears again though as the still weaving tarmac, heads back into the trees and one last notch up in gradient sees the road swing to the right and the summit.
I really found this hill tough. At no point was I out of breath and my heart rate was not too high, but my legs just did not want to know. I did of course get up but I really did have to slow right down and just concentrate on getting to the top - not what I am used to at all. I certainly seem to have lost my climbing "bounce"

I am not used to struggling up hills and it is certainly starting to play on my mind a little  - don't get me wrong - Ditchling Beacon is a testing climb but I have done far harder and with better form.

Am I over trained or under nourished, or both?

Well, this week I am dispensing with careful intake and calories and fuelling for a big weekend. A few days off the bike should help with the recovery and a large plate off liver and onions (One of Amanda's many specialities which I have just polished off), should help rebuild the muscles.

Anyway with the Beacon out the way I promptly puntured on the descent and while repairing the hole I became aware of just how many cyclists were going past me. The hill is clearly used as a training run by a large number of locals - I saw one guy complete the hill three times!!
At the bottom, a lack of options meant the only way to go was to turn around and go back up and down the same hill - the other ascent is far longer and therefore nothing like as steep. Enjoyable in its' own way though.
After a couple of wrong turns on the way back to the car I finally arrived having done 68 miles (more than I intended), but was greeted with the hot coffee and sandwiches that Amanda had made for me that morning - What a Star!

Return to the New Forest

I didn't write an update last week as there didn't seem too much to talk about.
Myself and Amanda did a 60 mile run based on the Southern Sportive route that I did a few weeks before, but since she had not done any of that route before, it was all new to her.
She meet up with Duncton Hill and did well - the only bad spot was that she had three!! punctures on the route.

This week though Amanda was tied up taking her recently formed ladies only cycling club, out on their maiden trip from Lepe on Saturday.
I fancied a long run but did not want to go too far from home, so I set out into the New Forest, to complete one of the training rides that I used for the London to Paris.
The added miles from home to the start of the ride at Half Moon Common would take the ride to over 85miles, although most of the ride would be flat.

The one real exception to that is Blissford Hill which although very short, has a really steep section (the sign says 25%, but my Garmin Edge 705 indicated a max of 21% - either way it is steep enough to create a grunt or six).
Fortunately enough, I missed most of the rain, and again, really struggled in the second third of the ride, only to get better towards the end -  a nutritional rethink is on the cards.
Still, on the positive side, I did the whole ride without a stop (other than for nature) and did all the eating and even put on my rain jacket while on the move - a useful skill I could do with working on with the Lake District in mind.
Got back in time to listen to the football on the radio as well.

The Sunday weather forecast was not good - nice start but but by Midday, rain would be in control. Neither myself or Amanda wanted to get wet so we set off early and were ready at the Marchwood Enclosure by 8.30am for a (hopefully) brisk 30 miles. A few technical faults later, we were done and home just in time for the heavens to open - almost exactly on 12pm.
Although the ride was not hard, by the time I had washed the bikes down and sat down, my legs were toast - completely wrecked....
and so the Sunday ended with me watching the football and eating vitually everything that we had left in the house.
Amanda got up early to give me a lift to work on Monday - seriously in debtted to her for that!

The Outlaws Cometh

Saturday morning and the prospect of of Mum and Dad coming down for the weekend meant that the only chance to get a ride in was to do an extended route home from work. Both myself and Amanda had given blood the night before, so this really limited us to a fairly short, non-taxing route home.
So I went in and while I was working, Amanda rode in to met me (my Trek 1.2 was already at work), and we set off through the south side of Winchester and did an extended route along various stretches of the beautiful River Itchen.

This is a route that we have done a few times but today was beautiful - a (insert appropriate collective noun here) of Long Tailed Tits escorted us along the hedgerow as we set off...

The ride itself was fairly uneventful except for the the huge number of snowdrops on the bank of the River Itchen as it passes through Ovington.

We were so taken that Amanda insisted on a photo....

A lovely stretch this.
28 miles later and we arrived home to find Mum and Dad already arrived, in the house, drinking tea and tucking into the cake that was made for me!!!........ We knocked on the door only to get no answer......Honestly, you couldn't make it up.

Alex v The Elements

No pictures this week, just me grumbling about how hard cycling is when the conditions are bad.
With Amanda visiting her parents this weekend I had planned to really test myself, both in terms of the mileage and circumstances that would test my mental resolve - and so it proved.
Planning the route on Friday night I decide that I would do the major part of the Southern Sportive route that I completed in September. A few adjustments we needed but the main idea was to try and complete 100 miles - It would be the first time that I had tried to complete so many miles on my own.
Glancing at the weather forecast the signs were not good - a strong southwesterly wind was forecast which meant that the whole of the second (and home leg) would be straight into the wind. No worries I thought, I am quite a strong wind rider and this will give me the test I need.
Waking up Saturday morning I was greeted by the sound of howling winds outside - still, I downed my porridge, got the bike ready, had some muesli, packed two water bottles, 5 snickers bars, a banana and a tub of mixed nuts into my various pockets and headed out at 7.20am towards West Meon, where I would meet the Southern Sportive route.
This route is a delight really - nice roads, including some main ones, but at no point were they too busy, and I plugged on towards Petersfield with the wind at my back. I was determined though, not to go too fast as I knew that I would need to keep all the energy I had for the return part of the ride.
It began to drizzle, which meant the drops were coming in sideways on the back of the wind, and it almost felt as though mother nature was throwing drawing pins at me. It wasn't that cold though and this led to my first mistake - as it wasn't raining hard, I decided not to put on my rain jacket as I thought I would overheat. I had now turned and the wind and rain was coming in diagonally from the left hand side - horrible. Turning left and heading up towards the climb of Harting Down my legs turned to lead and it felt as though I had put the bike in reverse. It was only once I got home that I realised that the top of this hill is the second highest point of the route.
I finally arrived at the top and had to stop to eat my banana - five minutes later and now starting to feel cold, I put the rain jacket on and headed off again, downwind towards Goodwood.
Once over the fifty mile mark, it seemed the best idea was to find somewhere for a coffee and hopefully something warm to eat, so a sign for "The Pheasant" was just what the doctor ordered. Once inside a nice spot next to a large radiator beckoned, and so the process of de-robing began.
As I took off my jacket I started to realised just how wet I was. My Alzheimer's jersey was soaked through, and so was the jacket below. I duly hung them over the radiator and looked down at my base layer which was also soaked - no wonder I was starting to struggle with all that extra weight.
Forty five minutes, two coffees, a coke, a bowl of soup and numerous trips to the hand dryer later, most of the gear was OK to put back on - I couldn't really have had any complaint if the Landlord had been waiting at the door to charge me for all the extra power that I had used.
Once back on the road, and heading back into the wind I was feeling much better and around 12 miles further on I met a main road with enough cars coming past to make me stop and take a drink - Nooooooo!!
I had left both my water bottles in the pub after I had filled them up - too far to go back - not feeling quite so chirpy now - silly sod - never mind, no point worrying about it now, SUMO (shut up and move on).
And so it continued.... into the wind.
I think I am quite a good rider in the wind - you make yourself as small as you can, and just try and keep a rhythm and keep your cadence sensible. At least that's what you try and do, and then the elements slap you down and throw in a gust - all momentum lost and your legs get sapped just trying to regain your ground.
This is where your mind is tested, you want to give up, your mind plays tricks.
Arriving in Clanfield, popping into a shop, and stocking up on water (I couldn't take it with me as the bottle was too big), gave me a sense of revitalisation and having popped my lights on the bike, I was finally on the last stretch and eventually turned onto our drive at 4.20pm (ish).
A fib about no pictures - here's the screeenshot from the Garmin.

Until next week. (Wow 47.6 MPH - that's fast :-) )