No matter how long any of us have been cycling there are always “those” rides that stand out.
It very seldom is the same old route that you rehash chasing down your 400th Strava trophy. It very often is not even a race itself. It is marked by a feeling that, no matter how tired you are, there is nowhere else you would rather be than on your bicycle, on that road, at that very point in time. It is the cyclist’s meditation and practice of presence and for many of us it is the driving factor to the question of why we ride our bikes.
These moments differ for us all, for some it is can be a short gravel ride, for others it is in the heat of battle at the front of a criterium race. For myself it is usually in the space where all my mental chatter has finally subsided and I can just be where I am. I love riding my bike, I ride it more days than I don’t in a year but with that comes less and less of an appreciation of how incredible riding your bike can be. I needed that feeling again, I needed to forget about all the other “stuff” in the world and reconnect in all senses of the word. I needed an adventure.
First port of call was finding something that scared me, as the very lame cliché goes, “If it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn’t change you.” So I decided before all else that I wanted to cycle further than I previously had. This sounds easy enough although my current dad bod was far from my sleeker, sexier days where I churned out miles for fun. 400km it will have to be, was it doable? I wasn’t entirely sure given my longest ride in the last two years was 170km. Not wanting to make this too easy I decided that it will be an unsupported ride going places where I have never been before on a bicycle.
After countless hours jumping between Komoot and Strava maps I managed to nail down a route that allowed me to take in the beautiful countryside as well as avoid major roads for the most part. 25km of A roads, mostly done under the cover of darkness was the best I could manage. With the route set I spent the last two weeks before the ride commuting fully-loaded. It helped getting used to handing the bike with an extra five odd kilograms although it did draw some puzzled looks from my fellow commuters.
I wanted to make the most of the long days and decided to ride as close to the solstice as possible, I figured that at a reasonable pace, allowing for some stops to get food I would try and finish in 24 hours. So Saturday 19th June at 12am it was time to set off. Mercifully the rain had mostly stopped although the roads were still covered in water. At about 2km in I hit a rain filled pothole so hard I had to stop and rearrange my handlebars outside Sainsbury, it was not the ideal start but managed to stay calm, tighten my stem and head north towards the Chilterns.
Heading out….
The ride was to be broken up into five 80km stretches, I would stop at 80km, text my wife my location, eat one of my many sweet potato wraps and be off as fast as possible. From previous silly rides I knew eating was essential and that I needed to keep it as simple as possible. I would drink (a light electrolyte drink) ever 15 minutes and I would eat every 45 minutes. My on the bike food were Maurten gels as they agree well with my constitution and help me maintain rather than spike. I also took some Clif Shot Blocks for some variety although the majority of my intake would be Maurten.
The first 80km took me to Kidligton just north of Oxford at about 03h45, it was a surreal stretch completely in the dark. Every so often passing through a small village where there would inevitably be a group of drunk youngsters but other than that there was hardly a car to be seen. The air was damp and there was hardly a breeze, it all seemed perfect. As I forced down the first of many wraps the sun was starting to rise and it was time to head West across the Cotswolds. The drunken youngsters had made it home by this time and the villages were deserted bar the odd geriatric taking their dog for a walk at 04h30. I was heading into a slight headwind but it was to be the terrain in the Cotswolds that caused more difficulty. It was the highest point of the ride and the jagged tooth profile coupled with gradients in excess of 20% made this the hardest 80km.
Llamas.
162km in at 07h42 just outside Cirencester I stopped to check in, eat and say hi to two friendly Llamas. Mentally this point in a long ride is tough as you need to convince your mind and body that although you’ve ridden for seven and a half hours it was still relatively early days. I wasn’t in a convincing mood but knew that I just needed to keep pedalling. I muttered an old endurance mantra to myself, “If you’re feeling bad, don’t worry you will get over it and if you’re feeling good, don’t worry you’ll get over it.” And with that it was to Bath I headed.
Check in….
As I dropped into Bath I was filled with mixed emotions, I had just passed halfway, the decent gave my cramping legs a good break and I was sure to find water there as I had just about run out, the downside was that I was just about halfway, my legs were cramping and a decent into Bath can only mean a climb out of it. Luckily I found a pub with a tap outside, restocked and forced myself back onto my bike within a matter of minutes as I dared not face the climb out with cold legs. The climb out wasn’t as bad as I had expected as I put some wear into my granny gear, I was Frome bound and my first and only coffee of the ride was waiting at Pronto bikes. I pulled into Pronto, 241km, 11h33 ordered a coffee and sat down, although I had theoretically been sitting the whole day this hit differently, it was like a hug. As I sat there happily sipping my coffee I could take stock of things properly, I was tired, very tired but happy and knew that if I wanted to keep it that way I needed to get the hell out of this comfort zone as soon as possible. I binned my four million empty energy wrappers, put my Wahoo on charge, bought some electrolyte tabs and said farewell to Justin.
Visiting Justin at Pronto in Frome, once our rep – now a brother in bicycles! (Ed)
In many ways the ride really started from here.
I was beyond my limits at this point and my mind and body finally gave up trying to dissuade me from riding, and there it was, just riding my bike in the moment. The stretch from Frome through Longleat Forest towards Salisbury was meditative and mercifully downhill on average. The market was in full swing as I passed through Salisbury and the different sights, sounds and smells were a welcome change. The rolling hills towards Winchester didn’t bother me, to my body uphill, downhill or flat were all the same thing at this point, the only difference was the amount of pain I could feel in my knees on the differing terrains. At 300km my one GPS decided, that unlike me, it had had enough of this ride and stopped working, luckily being paranoid I had loaded the route to my watch too and avoided an early end to the day. 324km down, 15h58.
The homestretch, borderline delirious and unable to eat anymore (like my GPS my digestion decided to take a break) it was time to finish an amazing day on the bike. The last 80km was a race against the light and the incoming rain. It wasn’t pretty but it was incredible, standing for a lot of it to give my muscles and undercarriage a break I crawled home. My fatigue peaked at around 380km but after that there was an unexpected resurgence of energy to finish it off. I triumphantly knocked on my own front door to be greeted by my wife and excited pug. It was one of “those” rides.
Fin.
Many beers, pizzas and chocolates later I am really grateful to be able to ride my bike. Despite all the advances in technology there is an underlying simplicity to riding your bike, it gives us freedom in many ways.
So go yourself on one of “those” rides, you won’t regret it.
Jeandre’s Epic Ride :
