Two Weeks Tomorrow

Its Sunday 26th June and the Etape is now two weeks and one day away.

The weather has been terrible of late - gone have the dry days of April and May, leaving June as a near wash out, which has meant that training has been at a premium, with just a couple of runs out with Amanda of note.

This weekend though, Amanda was visiting her parents and I had to work on both the mornings. Not ideal, but I felt quite tired yesterday and chose to spend the day around the house, stretching and reading a book ( about a famous Italian cyclist called Marco Pantani).
Looking at the weather forecast though, we are sheduled to get two very hot days (at least for the UK) on Sunday and Monday before the weather breaks again.

This seemed to be too good an opportunity to miss as one of the factors that I have not been able to train for is the potential heat that I may be facing in France. So I booked the Monday off work and decided that I wold give myself two really punishing days in the heat to really test myself.

I got back from work, got the Madone ready and headed off for the New Forest - not with a route planned but I had a fair idea of where I would go.

After early morning fog, the sun had now burned it's way through and it was starting to become very warm as I reached the Forest and headed up Shepherd's Gutter Lane (for those of you that know it) and on toward Bolderwood - the idea being to circle round and climb back up Bolderwood Ornamental Drive, which is about as hilly as the New Forest gets.

It was apparent that there was a time-trial event in full swing and as I turned onto the climb I started to overtake a few riders and surprised myself with the energy that I had 30 miles or so in. As I continued I passed more riders and was starting to feel quite pleased with myself - especially as I overtook a guy on a full TT bike with aero bars and deep-rimmed carbon wheels.

Best day on a bike for a while and a finishing average speed of 19.9 mph (doh! - so close to evens), for 51 miles, which I am delighted with. Tomorrow the idea is to complete the southern sportive route from home so it sould be about 120 miles, in the heat - hard training indeed!

In the meantime I am going to do exactly what I am doing now - sit in the garden and drink gallons of water. I think I have deserved it today. Until tomorrow.....

Oh Crud!!

This seemed like a good idea at the time but now I am not so sure....

After completing the Dragon Ride with it's Alpine-like feel and hills, I thought it might be a good idea to compare the profile with that of the Etape that I will be facing in a month.
So here it is...

The Dragon Ride is much longer of course but just check out the difference in elevation - I know the starting points are higher but still - Flipping 'eck.

That'll be another know to the confidence then.

A Weekend In Wales - The Wiggle Dragon Ride

I have been building up to the Dragon Ride for quite a while now and have heard from many people just how good the route is.
The wide roads and long climbs mean that this area is the closest thing to the Alps in the U.K.

It was also set to take me to Wales for the first time for anything longer than a flying visit.

Amanda had done her usual sterling work in finding us somewhere nice to stay, despite us booking a little bit later than we probably should have. The Heron's Brook Bed and Breakfast in Blackmill, proved to be a lovely retreat - lovely views, comfortable room and the best bit, a huge corner bath.

As we got there quite early, we unloaded the car, grabbed a quick cup of tea and decided that it would be prudent to go and check some of the route. Not least because some of the major climbs were just a few minutes (in a car at least) from where we were staying.
Twenty minutes away and we had our breath taken away by the beauty of the Bwlch.

 This is in fact the way that we would come down after the final ascent off this mountain - and what a thrill it proved.
Our short drive also took in the climb of the Rhigos - which my 200km route took in but Amanda's 120km route did not. Again we marvelled at the sweeping bends and spectacular views.

Once back at the Heron's Brook we got changed and set off to the pub to see if we could find pre-ride grub. We both ordered pasta dishes - with a side order of pasta. It was really hot in the pub and after we had eaten so much, we felt really drained and after finishing off with a shandy, headed back to bed.
I am an early riser and Tricia (owner of Heron's Brook) had kindly offered to get up early to organise us some breakfast for 6.45am. By this time though I had already got the bikes loaded onto the car and Amanda was organising the mass of things that we needed to take. We checked the weather forecast and it was not looking good - heavy showers and possible thunderstorms - meaning we would have to carry a good deal more than we had hoped.
Breakfast was duly dispatched and we set off for the start - alongside the Sony factory at Pencoed - only fifteen minutes away.
We could not believe the sight that greeted us. It was 7.30am and already there were hundreds of cars queuing to get in.
By the time we had parked, got the bikes off the car, readied all our kit and got to the start point there must have been a thousand riders in a long line between railings, stretching off into distance. I remember thinking that it looked a little bit like the start of the London marathon.
The queue moved quickly as people were being started in groups at short intervals and before we knew it we were heading off to the music from Pirates of the Caribbean.
We had only just got past the first corner when Amanda told me to go ahead and ride my own pace (see her entry at the bottom of this post) - so I duly departed a set off up the next small climb, to see someone already repairing a puncture. What a nightmare that must have been so close to the start.
The initial part of the route headed towards Bridgend along nice roads and as usual in these events, was typified by some riders going too fast early on and overtaking in silly places, where there are just too many riders still. Funny thing is I have now learned to chuckle at this because, although some of these guys are very good riders, the vast majority are regular cyclists who get carried away and set of too fast, and the chance are that you will see them again later when they have blown up and you pass them as they grovel in the gutter with nothing left.
The pace was quite fast early on and I managed to avoid a few early incidents - mainly riders not holding their position in the road (moving sideways off their line) and quite a number of water bottles coming off on bumpy road surfaces and instantly being squished by the wheels behind.
We by-passed Bridgend and turned north-west through Wick and through the lovely Ogmore By Sea, which offered beautiful views of the sea to the left. We swept right alongside the Ogmore River estuary and another water bottle bit the dust.
The next place of note was Porthcawl, a typical busy seaside town and a fair few people cheering us on. It was here that the first feed station was located. I was feeling good though and had plenty of supplies though, so I kept going and continued with regular gulps of water, the odd energy bar and plenty of jelly babies.
We continued to make good progress as we had now settled into a reasonable group and as we headed out of Port Talbot we saw the sign for the first major climb of the day the "Bwlch", which was over 13 miles of climbing!
The first section is not steep at all and the climb in earnest does not start until you have been through the small village of Cymer. From there the road steepens and hugs the left hand side of the mountain. The trees disappear to give a much more rugged feeling and once round a couple of bends, you can see the road right the way up to the top - with ascending cyclists looking like dozens of ants crawling to the top. Looking up at the final section, the road sweeps round a long open bend to the left and appears to steepen dramatically, but fortunately it is an optical illusion and the pitch actually becomes less severe. One more bend back to the right and we were at the top.

Virtually the whole climb was into the breeze and I spent most of the climb sheltering behind other riders. Not proud of that but I figure that I would be glad later on.
 The second feed station was at the top and I was greeted by a very kind member of the local Rotary Club who filled my water bottles up for me and pointed me in the direction of the sustenance.
With the first major climb gone and 52 miles completed, it dawned on me that I was still not even half way round so I got quickly back on and headed off towards the awesome descent down in to Treorchy.
really long and fast and having overtaken a couple of other riders, my confidence in my new tyres was beginning to improve. At which point I was overtaken by another guy who went past like a bullet (it made me jump as he came up on me so quickly - I was doing 43 MPH at the time!).
A short stretch through the town bought us straight the bottom of the second major climb - The Rhigos - a climb of around four miles and a similar pitch to the Bwlch.

Again it was just a case of getting a rhythm and sticking to it.
I arrived at the top feeling pretty good and prepared myself for another break-neck decent the first part of which was even more intense than the previous. (See second Picture Above).
This descent lasted ages, flattened off and then descended again, so much so that my arms, wrists and fingers were aching by the time I reached Glen - Neath.

Then came something of a sting in the tale.....
I had looked through the profile and seen the major climbs and thought to myself that there was not much else of significance - wrong.
Turning right we started a climb that I had not paid too much attention to, Coelbren. Not a particularly steep or long climb, but coming where it did, after a long descent, where the muscles have started to cool down it was a brute. The rider directly in front of me got cramp, couldn't unclip his feet quickly enough and fell in a heap into the roadside verge. I plodded on and was so glad when I reached the top and got into a group for the next fast section to Neath, where we came upon another short tough climb (Cimla). Which was made all the easier thanks to the large numbers of people who had come out to cheer us all on! This was quickly followed by the final feed station and a banana gorging session.
The only thing that remained (or so I thought) was the second ascent of the Bwlch and it really was a slog.
Starting around the 95 miles it is the Dragon's equivalent of Hardknott Pass on the Fred Whitton, but whereas Hardknott is all you can do just to get up, this is more like a slow death. Not only does it go on for such a long time, but you have already covered it once and it plays with your mind.
It was here that I saw the only spots of rain on the whole ride (Amanda would later tell me that she was caught by a real cloud burst), and I could see my breathe as the top approached.
Over the top again and down the third and as yet unvisited side at a slightly more cautious pace now that the roads were wet . This road though is awesome, carved through the rock, twisting and turning, with waterfalls at various points, and a marshall at the bottom stopping the traffic as you come to the roundabout - what a great idea.
Just one climb remained now and it was the steepest of the day. The finish line was only nine miles away now though and I hooked onto a couple of really fast guys and followed their wheel all the way in - truth be known, it was all I could do to hang on (31 MPH on the flat).

I arrived to see Amanda clapping me in, picked up my medal and pasta and was delighted to listen to Amanda telling me what a great day she had also had.

If you are thinking of a top class sportive to try I can highly recommend the Dragon Ride. It is by far the best route and the best organised event that I have taken part in so far.

Here is the video from my day...... Enjoy in HD too.


Here is Amanda's take on the day.....

For me this was a fantastic day of firsts!

I'd studied the route description and profile so much over the last week that I thought I was prepared for what my 120km would throw at me, so after blowing Alex a kiss and waving goodbye to the cloud of dust he left as he sped off into the distance I settled myself into an easy pace and let the fast boys and girls go. But to my surprise the three so called short climbs early in the ride turned out to be nothing more than short inclines so as the next group of riders overtook me I thought to myself with a little effort I can get their wheel, go at their pace and save my energy for the big climb to come.

Alex would have been proud of me, after the months of badgering me to stay on his wheel and ride close I was doing it, I was keeping up, I was following the hand signals, giving my own, riding fast but not too fast that I was tiring myself out or missing the fab views but fast enough to make the first feed station at the 30mile mark in 1hr and 45 mins - I couldn't believe it.

I enjoyed it so much that when I needed to take off my rain jacket (it hadn't rained yet but I was cold at the start) I didn't want to lose the group by stopping so I took it off whilst still riding and stuffed it in my pocket, unfortunately this wasn't a no-handed first but a first all the same.

The nice thing about being a lady on a predominately male event is that the men had to queue for the loo and the ladies didn't. After re-filling my water bottle & grabbing a banana I set off for the 2nd leg of my adventure.

More Alex advance was ringing in my ears "make sure you eat and drink regularly" so after a few miles and knowing the Big one was coming I decided to eat an energy bar, well it was more like eating cardboard but with half a bottle of water I forced it down.

As I turned right and started the 13mile climb up the Bwlch I felt good and strong, my legs weren't tired and I soon found myself overtaking other riders - male & female (some of which had sped past me in the early miles and were now suffering for their early efforts). This was my next first I had never before overtaken anyone on a hill!

As Alex says above the climb doesn't properly start until you pass through Cymer, I was still feeling good and had settled into a nice rhythm, the views were great and the line of cyclist going off into the distance as the road wound it's way up was amazing. I experienced the same feeling as Alex as you go round a right hand bend and see the road winding off to the left then right it appears that the gradient kicks up, I'd been climbing for about 10 or 11 miles by now and my legs were aching but I still had a few gears to go and thought I can't change down because I'm going to need them. But was an optical illusion as I turned the corner, the breeze dropped the gradient relaxed and I changed up and powered to the top.

After a short break to refill my water bottles and grabbed another banana I put my jacket back on and started the best descent of my life, I had the road to myself, no cars and the riders that set off just before me were no where to be seen. I don't know how fast I went because I didn't dare take my eyes off the road for a second but it was fast.

At the bottom I took my jacket off again - without stopping and headed for the last short tickle of a hill again I passed another male cyclist on the ascent. After another fast descent it started to rain and I finished the last 10k or so in an absolute downpour.

I didn't mind being wet I finished my 70 miles in 4 hours and 31 minutes - I'd said I wanted to do it in less than 6 hours but really hoped for between 5 and 5.5 this was my last first of the day - I have never ridden 70 miles in under 5 hours.

The day was amazing it was made by the lovely cyclist I shared the work & chats with, the spectators that cheered us on and Alex's constant support and encouragement to always improve that prepared and trained me to ride in groups and climb well.

I'm supposed to be Alex's support and motivator for the Etape but of late it has been the other way round - Thank you!

A Year's Progress

We've come along way in a year, Amanda and myself......

Just over a year ago, we cycled a sportive event called the Hampshire Hilly Hundred - Amanda to raise funds for the Alzheimer's Society and me, to help her along the way and provide support.
Amanda found it very tough and completed the 98 (or so) miles in a little under 8 hours.

Yesterday we did the route again (starting from home to increase the miles a little bit), as training for next weeks Dragon Ride in Wales, where Amanda is set to complete 75 miles and I will complete 126 miles, as further training towards the Etape Du Tour in July.

I got home from work and we hit the road at around 10am, heading towards Twyford to intercept the route and soon ran into the first hill of the day - White's Hill, leading to Owslebury. We have cycled this a few times since but vividly remember how much of a shock this hill was when we first did it last year. Turning of the main road, not long after the waterworks building, the road narrows to a single track and works its way through woodland before suddenly steepening from nowhere and reaching 17%. It's not long but tricky if you are not expecting it. We both found it considerably easier than in last May though.

We have also come along way in terms of our knowledge of how our bodies will react and the kind of nutrition we need to have in order to keep going - Jelly babies seem to be the best discovery. Plenty of instant energy, easy to digest and you can take them in small amounts, and most importantly, regularly. With a good breakfast, plenty of water and an electrolyte drink to aid hydration and prevent cramping we managed our nutrition throughout the day.
Winchester Hill and Beacon Hill are not as challenging as they once were and once over them we headed northwards and on towards the top section of the route on the far side of the M3.
At 50 miles in we stopped at Overton to refresh our supplies (not the same scenes of desperation eating ( see earlier post) that greeted my solo trip past here in December).
We timed our most sustained eating for the 3 or four miles immediately before Watership Down but in truth this hill has lost most of it's reputation. It consists of two steep sections with a flat run in between. It was so tough last year because it comes 62 miles in and we were a good deal less fit back then ( we were also both 10 pounds heavier).
As we approached Farley Mount, with around 90 miles on the clock, I realised that if we took the most direct route home from here we would not reach the 100 mile mark.
I indicated to Amanda that we would need to go all the way back to Twyford and then home to make sure we went over the ton. She was now becoming very tired and fortunately for me, could not catch me up to strangle me.
We arrived home more than an hour quicker than the year before and did five miles more. Our average speed was 2 mph faster and I certainly had a good bit more in the tank, which was a welcome confidence boost.
Onwards to Wales now for the Dragon Ride, which I am really looking forward to as Wales is a place I hardly know and I will hopefully have some pics and video to give a flavour of the day.....

Al Goes to Fat Camp - Day 3

As many people had left on the previous evening, it had been decided that only one group would go out on the final day for a short 30 mile ride to stretch our legs. It had also been decided that the group would go at a nice steady pace as everyone was tired and like myself, faced a substantial trip home.
Heading North out of Skipton the ride was just that, a nice gentle roll round. Then a rider had a chain snap, and the group took a few minutes out while a repair was made.
As the morning progressed I became increasingly aware of a new rider that had not been with us on the previous days. He clearly had fresher legs than us and was determined to force the pace, although it was funny to watch as the group "hung him out to dry" and no one followed him, forcing him to stop and wait - with a thoroughly disgruntled look on his face.
It was inevitable though that as the end of the ride came, the stronger riders began to pull away from the group and a bid for first to the hotel was being made. Everyone let the new face sit on the front and just sheltered behind him, knowing that he would simply ride himself into the ground, and so it proved.
We entered Skipton on the final run in and myself and the new guy managed to anticipate the traffic and pulled far enough clear of the rest that they would not be able to catch us back up. From there, I simply sat on his wheel and waited until about 500 yards to go before sprinting to the finish and leading the way into the hotel car park in a completely meaningless and childish display of waining strength - still, I was really pleased to have finished strongly, it's good for the confidence levels.
It brought to an end a thoroughly enjoyable and informative weekend and one that will hopefully set me up nicely for the Etape in what is now less than two months time.
I am now really starting to look forward to the trip to France and with the fundraising having gone well in the last month or so, I feel that things are now starting to come together.

Anyone that reads this blog and would like to sponsor me for either Parkinson's UK or the Alzheimer's Society can do so by clicking the following links  http://www.justgiving.com/Alex-Hawkes-Parkinsons-UK or http://www.justgiving.com/Alex-Hawkes-Alzheimers - Many thanks in advance.

In the meantime, here is a short video that I have created showing some of the sights of the weekend.

Al Goes to Fat Camp - Day Two

Once again I rose early on the Sunday morning and, with only a little soreness in the legs, was very glad that I had taken the time to stretch my muscles before going to bed the night before.
This ride, the second of three was slightly shorter than the first day at 60 miles and only had three climbs of note.
Breakfast was duly dispatched and I readied myself and the bike for another fast, long day in the saddle with the fast group, and to my surprise, all the same people put themselves up for the challenge for a second day (although one would later drop back into the slower groups after suffering cramp).
We headed off again through Skipton but then turned North West and on to the first climb of the day, Scosthrop Moor, which was challenging but more memorable if truth be known for the descent into Settle which was fast, twisting and utterly unnerving thanks to a rippled road surface which constantly threatened to destroyed any control that you had over the bike. More interesting though was that at the bottom, the welcome into Settle was in the form of cobblestones - ouch!!
The first feed station was located here and after a short session of taking on all the food and drink that you could we turned right and with the warning "make sure you are on the small ring here" (i.e. your easiest gears, indicating a nasty climb). They were not kidding, immediately the road narrowed and swept left, steepening rapidly. Fortunately this was short lived and the, now single track road levelled and followed a hedge line before meeting up with the main road.
A right turn later and we began the main climb of the day - Heading almost North from Stainforth, we turned into what was again a howling wind and the road was very steep at the start.
To use a cycling commentary term, the steepness of the road, coupled with the headwind "blew the group to pieces" and I ended up in the second of four groups, trying to play a cagey game by shielding behind another two riders. Eventually though, one rider dropped away and just myself and Darren continued to the top.
The gradient had now relaxed somewhat and although the wind got even stronger as we ventured further out on to the moor. Courtesy of www.sportivecentral.com

I was becoming aware of a mountain to our left-hand side , and it looked strangely familiar. It almost looked like a forehead...... Darren told me that it was Pen -y - Ghent. Now it made sense as I had been camping there with my Dad many years ago when we did the Three Peaks walk.

 Quite a sight. This just about signalled the summit and a long flat stretch which then descended (very steep and fast again), to Halton Gill where the second feed station awaited.

The next section followed the river Skirfare before swinging left over open grassland over to the far side of the River Wharfe, through Hebden and the delightfully named Appletreewick.

A quick descent and a sharp right turn over a very narrow bridge and we were nearly at the final climb - Halton Moor. The group had to stop though as Darren's chain had snapped. He indicated to us that we should carry on (as luck would have it the owner of the local bike shop was in the pub nearby having Sunday lunch and just happened to have his tool kit in the back of his van).

We pressed on up what was a very nice steady climb. My legs were very tired though and I got dropped on the climb and ended up finishing the ride on my own - my only comfort being that I did get back to the hotel a creditable second.

Better still, we were back in time to grab a quick shower and watch the football. I sat there and stuffed my face with all the post ride recovery freebies that we had been given.

Another ride tomorrow and not too sure whether the legs will be up for it.

Al Goes to Fat Camp - Day One

What a fantastic thought that my Mum and Dad had last October, to send me to training camp in the Yorkshire Dales, organised by Sports Tours International.
I laughingly referred to it as "fat camp", but I knew all along that this would be a hard three days and no laughing matter at all.
Having researched the routes in the week leading up to the trip, I realised that this would be hilly terrain to say the least and that at least two of the climbs were in my book of 100 greatest cycling climbs, notably Buttertubs Pass and Fleet Moss.
And so it was that I set off Northwards after being at work, and after making good progress, then hit a huge traffic jam on the A34 and sat in the car with the engine off for over half an hour. Some six hours later, and thoroughly worn out after a long drive and a 4.30 am start, I arrived at The Rendezvous Hotel in Skipton and got checked in to my room. A single occupancy was a sound idea since I knew that rest would be a premium and I could "spread out". Before I knew it, the time had reached 7pm and it was time for the welcome meeting and a briefing on how the weekend was likely to pan out. Three groups would go out each day to accommodate a range of cycling levels. The question now dawned, which group to go in, and this became the topic of conversation over dinner with a group of guys many of whom had completed previous Etapes and had fascinating stories to tell of their exploits.
We all retired early and I continued to contemplate which was the best group to go with... this thought stayed with my right through until the next morning.
I awoke early as I often do and found myself with some time on my hands before breakfast was available so I got all my kit lined up and pottered down for a leisurely pre ride fuelling session, before we were set to meet up for the ride at 9am. The plan was that the slowest group would go out first, followed by the middle speed group, with the fast group going out last. I was toying with the idea of going with the second group but after chatting to the leader of the fast group, I thought to myself that I had come here to train, not to just amble round and take it easy - the fast group it was.

We set off on what was a 90 mile route with four notable climbs, although the road was never really flat at any stage...... Heading North out of Skipton the early part of the route was gentle enough, and the pace was fast but no so fast that weren't able to take in the increasingly beautiful surroundings of the Yorkshire Dales
Our ride leaders indicated to us that the first climb of the day had arrived as we passed through Buckden, known as Kidstones. Profile from www.sportivecentral .com

This was a lovely climb with a few steep sections and sweeping hairpin bends but it was more notable for me for that fact that my chain jumped off during a double gear change. Just as I tried to use the front derailleur to re align my chain, I felt a hand on my back, pushing me for just long enough for me to get my chain back on without stopping. It was Darren, one of the ride leaders who has been alert enough to see/hear what had happened and helped my out before it became a problem - a great help.

Following a fast descent and a water stop we proceeded towards the second marquee climb of the day - Redmire Moor. Approaching from the south west you see the impressive site of Castle Bolton on the left, before climbing up onto open moorland. Profile from www.sportivecentral .com

As you can see this is a significant climb and with the strong headwind, this was a climb not to be underestimated. I really enjoyed it actually as I always think that you might as well make the training as difficult as possible.

The descent was pretty scary, I found. Paul, Darren and a couple of our guys fairly hurtled down this narrow, twisting, wall-lined road. The howling wind gusted and did it's best to throw you off line. I just held on tight and went down as fast as I dared.

The next stretch took us through rolling Dales countryside and past river (although fairly dry) and on towards Thwaite, which signalled the first major climb of the day - Buttertubs Pass, rated at 8 out of 10 in my book of cycling climbs. Profile from www.sportivecentral .com

Turning left off the main road, the start is not too difficult but ahead you can see the road steepening and swinging first right and then left in alpine-hairpin style.

The pace had been quite hard up to this point and a few of the guys had been left behind. meanwhile Alistair, who I had been chatting to and, it turns out, lives only a couple of miles away from me shot off. Not attacking but just riding away, and having established that he is a triathlete, I made no attempt to try and keep up with him.

Alistair was waiting at the bottom of the descent and I joined him to wait for the others to catch up. Glancing south and saw what appeared to be a road going over a very steep hill in the distance - it looked familiar too, having had a good look at the climbs prior to the ride. Yes it was the final climb of the day, Fleet Moss - the highest road in Yorkshire and it looked horrendous from this distance. Profile from www.sportivecentral .com

We headed through Hawes and just as the 100 Best Cycling Climbs indicated, the road climbs steeply at first before all but levelling off. It really is toying with you though as, once you pass all the farm buildings, all you can see is a really big hill, and the road simply takes the shortest route over it. No hairpins to soften the gradient, just straight up and over, and it it just gets steeper and steeper, finishing off with a brutal section of around 20% when your legs are in tears. Once over the road flattens before a short final 18% ramp to complete the climb.

The descent that follows is terrifying - twisting blind corners, uneven road, very steep and a cross wind. Concentration is the key and by the time we had got to the bottom my eyes were nearly popping out of my head.

The final section of the ride seemed to take for ever as my legs, arms and wrists were all tired and all I wanted t do was get back and rest (and have a beer).

We all gave it our best effort to get back to the hotel and with a few mile to go, myself and Alistair had dropped the rest of the group, and the two leaders had gone back to make sure that they were OK.

The two of us eventually reached the hotel together and shared a handshake as we came into the car park together.

A few beers, a seminar on the Etape route and a hearty supper later, my head hit the pillow and that was the end of the end of day one.....