[parmnion]

what do you think ?

FRED WHITTON CHALLENGE.

We arranged to leave at 4 in the morning which meant getting up at the back of 3.
I fumbled for the alarm, switched it off & rose from bed quickly; my stomach already had butterflies & was not looking forward to forcing myself to eat a huge bowl of porridge. I knew I had to eat as much as I could to try and load my body with as many carbs as possible, for Keith & myself were off to the Lake District to take part in what could possibly be argued the most challenging Sportife, certainly the most popular in the UK.

We arrived at the venue, Coniston Sports Centre, which was easy to find (Coniston is not big by any stretch of the imagination).
Our first memories were of the awful smell emitting from the portable toilets, which already had a cue of 20 hopefuls patiently waiting their turn to unload any un-necessary weight and gain a few precious minutes. In reality though they were probably feeling rather nervous and this was the bodies natural response. That and a diet of energy bars gels & a mountain of pasta, especially when you’re not used to such extreme changes to your diet.
We signed on and joined the back of the toilet cue, which was now twice as long.
Suitably refreshed we set off. Keith went first for a small head start while I stashed the keys for the van in a mutually agreed secret location.

It was approx 07:30 when I set off. I had hung around at the start waiting for a group of suitably fit looking riders to set off with.
Everyone was issued with a dibber which you dibbed when you started, twice more on the route and at the end, which gave you an accurate time. This allowed riders to leave when they wanted and help alleviate the congestion problems on the tight narrow roads.
With my new cycling companions we set off down the road at a nice leisurely pace, it was still slightly misty with a chill in the air but it was one of those lovely calm mornings when you know it’s going to be a hot one.
The first hill appeared & disappeared without much thought apart from ‘holy crap I’m in bottom cog already’ I’d only done 5 miles and still had 107 to go. But it was quite easy really and I was in bottom cog more because of a car, which had got stuck in the middle of the ever increasing peloton as we swept along picking up small groups.

After the fun of the first descent it was back to more fast passed action round the shores of Lake Windermere. I was telling Keith on the way down in the van that morning to get in a good group and don’t go on the front and what was I doing? Leading the peloton. I looked back over my shoulder to see who was behind me and got a huge surprise. Approx 50 riders all tucked in on my wheel, what a sight but not what I should have been doing so early on, however I still felt really good so stayed there for another couple of miles before pulling over to let a few through.

It was a good spin down to Keswick on the A66. The peloton had now swelled to well over 50 riders and we were starting to seriously piss some drivers off. I saw at least 2 hand gestures from cars, which were met with equally enthusiastic, smiling and waving which seemed to have an inverse effect on the already angry occupants.
One bloke came a real cropper when trying to take a swig from his bottle, caught a cats eye and went for a huge 30+ tumble, luckily for him and half the peloton he went down the verge. I saw him again at the end all cuts & bruises. He just got up and got on with it. He had the small matter of a date with destiny in the shape of a mountain called Hardknott and nothing was going to stop him, not even a wee tumble.

The first hill worthy of note (they’d all be worth mentioning if they belonged in the Borders) was the climb up Honister Pass, which was a taster for things to come. A sharp left of the main road straight into a 25% climb. I could hear the chains and cogs all clicking and grinding behind me as everyone tried desperately to find one that would do the trick. I made it up (more than a few were walking) but at a price, it was hard and I knew at that point Hardknott was going to be a real killer, if I made it that far.

The spin or rather the mad whacky races style free wheel down the other side (Forbes nemesis from last year) was long twisty and 25%. I clocked a speed of 46.5mph and I was on the brakes most of the time being cautious as more experienced descenders or mad bonkers idiots came past at warp factor 5. Two blokes in front of me very nearly didn’t make it across the chicane bridge half way down. I crapped myself & I was just watching. I passed them as they tried to get their bikes back in a more suitable gear to get going again. I didn’t see them again and can only assume they realised that it just isn’t worth dying for and eased off.

Not long after the excitement of the descent was Buttermere Youth Hostel and the first food stop at 52miles (approx half way). I stayed only long enough to eat a banana drink 2 cups of juice. I had intended on filling up one of my water bottles at this point but had only just finished my first one. This was the second part of my plan that was going astray.
(Drink 2 bottles getting to half way, fill one up, which should see me to the second check point and fill it again, which should get me home. A total of 4 bottles)
I didn’t want to hang around too long as the climb immediately after the first stop is another taster of things to come and I didn’t want my legs to think they could relax (not yet anyway).
Newlands, Whinlatter & Swarth Fell passed without incident. I hate to pass them off with such flippant ease as they are serious hills in there own right but to be honest I can’t remember that much about them apart from being very hot & sore. There was also the nagging thought in the back of my mind that there was a more serious issue to be resolved (could I get up Hardknott?)

At the second checkpoint I filled up one of my bottles and agreed with the other 3 riders that I’d been with from near the start that we would stick together as we had been working well, and it was looking like we might all be on for a sub 7 hour finish (Elite standard award), which was my main target, getting up Hardknott would be a Brucey Bonus.

We were working well together sharing time on the front but when it came to the hills we all made our own way up, there was no point trying to get a tow at single figure speeds and we seemed to be pulled back together again at the tops as if held together by some invisible force.
The heat was really starting to tell at this point and I was wishing I had drunk more than just one bottle in the first 50 miles, however it was done and I just had to get on with it.

As we approached the base of Hardknott the chatter stopped, the silence was eerie not that cyclist say much when they’re together, usually 3 word sentences and a couple of grunts is enough to convey all the information required but it was like we were going into some sort of subconscious shut down mode, leaving only the life support and whatever necessary functions to enable forward momentum. Everything else was just surplus to requirement
There it was, the phone box, the proper start to the climb, 25% and long. The first bit is in the trees so you don’t get the full horror of what awaits till you’re onto the open hill and what a horror!!!
As I inched my way up the first steep pitch I was conscious of a car right on my wheel, engine revving and very close. I was only doing about 2 mph but he would just have to bloody wait till I got to a passing place or fell off. You couldn’t stop on this hill. It would be impossible to get going again. When I did eventually reach a passing place I pulled into it without stopping to let it past. The stink from the clutch nearly had me boaking. It was VW Golf R32 as well (a very nice car and not something I’d take up Hardknott). Keith recounted later that he saw a new BMW with smoke billowing out from under the bonnet.
Anyway where was I? Oh yes, pain, exhaustion, weakness and a total lack of confidence. It never really occurred to me that I wasn’t going to get up Hardknott, I’d read all the horror stories, changed my gearing and was thinking ‘yeh right how hard can it be? I’m a mountain biker and it’s a tarred road for Christ sake.
Well let me tell you, it’s hard! It saps you as much mentally as it does physically. When I cleared the first pitch and got a rest bite on the flatter section you can’t help but look up to see what’s coming and that’s a mistake. Knowing how deep I had to dig just to clear the first section had my head in a spin. The summit was still out of sight and at an angle that hurt my neck looking up towards it.
I soldiered on heading towards the worst section 33%. The bit that looks like the gable end of a badly rendered mountain. It beggared belief that the tar stayed stuck.
I got round the first really bad bit, a left hand hair pin and was at the second really bad bit, a right hand hair pin, when I had wee look over my shoulder to see where I was going (big, big mistake). My heart sank I was beat. I got off. I wasn’t even out of breath but my legs hurt like they’d been kicked by a mule. I just couldn’t face it any more. I started the walk of shame!
One photographer near by explained that there was no shame, the winners from last year had walked it and I could see why. There is no logical reason, besides pride for climbing Hardknott, such is the physical (and mental) effort required that I’m sure if I had managed it I would have been a useless wreck at the top and not capable of descending safely down the other side.
I climbed back on for the last 100 meters (the gradient had eased off considerably). At last I crested the top to the cheers applause & cowbells clanking from the many supporters that had made the effort to come out and watch. All the main summits had quite a few people cheering and waving, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of their loved ones.

Down the other side was indeed hairy and I saw at least 2 riders being attended to by medics one looked in a very bad way and Keith said he saw someone being taken away by helicopter.
The heat was still relentless and I still had Wrynose to contend with. Again this was a killer, not as bad as Hardknott but close. My bubble had burst by this point so I dismounted again near the top for another walk of shame.

The route guide says that it’s down hill nearly all the way from there.
It is not! and I’m sure the organizers ears must have been on fire. I spoke to a few riders afterwards and the last section nearly finished them off as they had relaxed and mentally switched off thinking it was all over only to find that they had to dig nearly as deep again to get to the finish. Very cruel, especially after 100 odd miles.

I crossed the finish line alone, I don’t know what happened to my three companions, I think I passed one of them walking in his socks up Wrynose. The others were last seen disappearing over the summit way ahead of me.
I was drained, but elated. I dibbed for the last time and found out that I had indeed attained my secret desire of a sub 7 hour ride. I had been telling people before it that I would be quite happy with a sub 8, but I hoped if everything went according to plan i.e. no mechanicals, punctures, bonking or even death, a sub 7 should be possible.

I’d done it! Got a sub 7 (6hours & 46min) but something wasn’t quite right. I had walked for the first time on a tarred road since I was a boy and I didn’t like it!

I changed and walked out to the finish to wait for Keith, he came round the last bend looking quite fast but had a face of disgust when he climbed off the saddle. He’d bonked just before the start of Hardknott and to add insult to injury suffered a puncture with 4 miles to go. Still he managed to get round in 8hours and 51min (second class award), which is very respectable considering he bonked with 20 of the worst miles imaginable to go and in the worst place possible. I can only guess at what those last 20 miles must have been like for him. Sheer hell! Anyway I’m sure he would have attained a sub 8 finish (first class award) if his body hadn’t run out of fuel.

Would I do it again? Definitely! The organisation was first class; the people really friendly and you can’t beat the feeling of shared hardship, success & camaraderie. Besides, I have some unfinished business with a hill called Hardknott.

[Smithy]

I am not reading all that

[GypsyGoth]

Unlike Smithy I read it all.

And I learned two new words peloton and boaking

Also I'm not sure what bonking meant towards the end of the story, I thought that meant having sex.

Anyway it was a good read, I'm glad you finished the race safely.

[Jack_]

cool story bro

[Smithy]

Originally Posted by GypsyGoth

Unlike Smithy I read it all.

And I learned two new words peloton and boaking

Also I'm not sure what bonking meant towards the end of the story, I thought that meant having sex.

Anyway it was a good read, I'm glad you finished the race safely.

[parmnion]

Originally Posted by Jack_

cool story bro

thanks jack.

[Shasown]

Nice article, have you submitted it yet?

If not could I make the following suggestions for amendments:

change cue to queue

change rest bite to respite

change inverse to adverse.

[Zippy]

Originally Posted by Jack_

cool story bro

Raph, is that you?

[Benjamin]

Originally Posted by Shasown

Nice article, have you submitted it yet?

If not could I make the following suggestions for amendments:

change cue to queue

change rest bite to respite

change inverse to adverse.

I was going to suggest that

[Jessica.]

I read it all, very good.

[Mystic Mock]

im with smithy.

[Jessica.]

Originally Posted by jedward fever

im with smithy.

Shouldn't you be in bed for school?

[LeatherTrumpet]

what kind of bike have you got?