Well, things are looking up, I don’t want to tempt fate, but I’ve got through a whole week without getting rained on, it’s certainly not summer, but things are definitely looking up. I’ve had a pretty good weekend too, which always helps on the morale front.
So, what have I been up to this weekend then? Well for a start, I’ve done a bit of giving back to the community. Which is always rewarding. Last week I had a spare hour, so I took the strimmer up to the allotment and “strimmed” the paths and a couple of vacant, overgrown, plots. It’s an easy enough job if you’ve got the right tools, but pretty much impossible if you haven’t, plus it’s one of those instant gratification type jobs. With very little effort you can make a massive difference, which is just the sort of job to cheer you up. The lady that organises things on the allotment has been trying to get a working party together to help move a load of rubbish that someone had left on their plot when they moved on too. Watching the Watsapp chat, there were plenty of volunteers when she first asked for some help a few weeks ago. However, as with most things, come the planned day (Saturday), everyone suddenly had other plans or diversions. Knowing that I couldn’t help on Saturday due to my other commitments, I wandered up on Friday afternoon and with the help of another willing volunteer we cleared the whole lot into a skip in under an hour. Another instant gratification job and nothing too strenuous either, just a bit of humping and dumping, and a free workout to boot. Hopefully they will find someone to take over the cleared plot as it used to be a lovely plot, but a change of owner saw it quickly go to ruin (as many do), which I always think is a crying shame. Keeping up with the community spirited approach, I spent Saturday marshalling on the Chawton challenge, an LDWA challenge event with 20- and 30-mile route options and the normal brilliant LDWA organisation. My duties weren’t overly strenuous, just marshalling a couple of busy road crossings ensuring that everyone got across the road safely. Nothing hard about that, but it did get me out in the sunshine for most of the day, although it was a bit chilly early on, and I did get to say hello to lots of runners and walkers that I wouldn’t normally see. Marshalling duties completed, I trekked down to Lymington on Saturday afternoon ready for the weekends main event, the New Forest Excursion Audax. With a couple of hours to spare before bedtime I had an enjoyable evening wandering around the pretty little town and harbour area, before enjoying a pint sat in the evening sun. If anyone tells you that there’s no money floating around, then a short walk around Lymington harbour will probably convince you otherwise, with sailing boats, cruisers and speedboats of every shape and size bobbing happily at their moorings whilst their owners partake of the clubhouse.
Sunday dawned bright and sunny with a blustery East wind that had sprung up overnight doing its best to keep the temperature down, although lathering the sunblock on for the first time this year seemed prudent as I got ready.
Compared to last year there didn’t seem to be as many riders at the start, although I’ve seen worse turn outs. I guess that lots of people who would normally ride would have been off getting their 600km Paris – Brest – Paris qualifiers in, with this weekend being the first opportunity to do so. So maybe that was to be expected. It always seems to be a bit disappointing, not only for the riders but the organisers too, if numbers are down, and at the end of the day if we don’t support these events then they will just die out. Poor turnout or not, at 08:00 we were on our way, heading North out of Lymington bound for the far side of the New Forest at Cranborne. That Easterly wind wasn’t doing us any favours as we made our way North, with it being hard going on the more exposed areas. I use the term exposed areas loosely too, as from what I can tell not much of the New Forest is actually forested, the majority being windswept, open moorland, which left much of today’s route exposed to the full strength of the wind. A situation not helped by the fact that we would be heading pretty much North / South all day and with the wind coming from the east, it always seemed to be hampering progress! The wind’s all part of the game though and it only took a couple of hours to cover the 30 odd miles up to the familiar Audax stopping point at Cranborne garden centre.
From Cranborne it’s a course reversal to head back in the opposite direction aiming for the sea at Lepe. Back we go then, that Easterly wind still not helping but maybe more on your side than directly in front now.
Goldfinches flit from the hedgerows as I make my way down the narrow lanes out of Cranborne, the River Avon glints in the sunshine, the surrounding floodplain green and verdant with spring growth, as we cross it at Ibsley. Buttercups reaching for the sun protrude above the tops of the long grass and Cow parsley, the blooms white against the surrounding green stand tall on the verges. New forest ponies, many with foals in tow, graze peacefully at the roadside, disturbed only by the visitors who abandon their cars in the middle of the road to take photos. Semi wild cattle seek shelter from the sun amongst the forest trees, their owners exercising their rights as commoners to graze this land as their forefathers have done across the years. Approaching the coast, having crossed the forest for the second time, the smell of the sea fills my nostrils and soon after The Solent with the Isle of Wight in the background, springs into view. The beach is filled with day trippers making best use of the warm, sunny, day and the water itself is filled with boats of all description. Sailor’s sail, fishermen fish and jet skiers scream around making a nuisance of themselves, but in the spring sunshine all is right with the world.
A quick stop for some lunch in the salubrious surrounds of a Tesco car park and then onwards for the second crossing of the forest, and back into that wind again.
A few miles into the afternoon session my Right knee started playing up again (that’s the one that gave me issues at Brevet Cymru a couple of weeks back) and as the afternoon went on it was getting worse. I tried moving my position on the saddle to see if that made any difference, then I stopped and moved my cleats a bit to see if moving my feet made a difference, both to no avail. A couple more stops saw me move the cleats a couple more times, until I ended up back where I started from, none of which made any difference. There has to be a reason why this has suddenly started causing issues though, so my next thoughts turned to saddle height. The only problem being I didn’t have the right tools with me to move the saddle. Pondering the issue as I rode along, it dawned on me that putting a bit more tension on the leather of my saddle would probably raise my position by a few millimetres and whilst I didn’t have the tools with me to do that either I could get the same result by pulling the sides in, and all that needed was a bit of strong string. In fact, the farmers favourite, bailing twine, would be ideal and there’s always loads of that laying around in the countryside isn’t there. Not any more there isn’t! Bailing twine used to be everywhere. It held gates closed, it fixed barbed wire fences, it secured notices, it held farmers trousers up, and it even held hay bales together, but it would appear that that’s no longer the case. Or at least now that I wanted a bit, I couldn’t find any! Scouring the roadside as I peddled along, I finally spotted a bit of wire laying on the verge. Rolling to a stop I back tracked and doing my best tramp impression recovered my treasure. It was a bit stiff, but with a bit of fiddling I managed to pull the bit of wire through the holes in my saddle and tighten it up, effectively pulling the top of my saddle upwards and giving me a bit more height. And you know what, I’d probably only moved things up by a couple of millimetres, but the difference was instantly noticeable. I’m not saying it was an instant wonder cure, the damage had already been done, but what was looking like a ride stopping problem suddenly became manageable.
With my legs actually doing what they are supposed to do instead of screaming in protest at every pedal turn, the rest of the afternoon passed without drama. In fact, by 17:30 I was back at the start having crossed the forest and made my way back to the coast for the second time today.
As usual a hot brew, warm welcome and enough cake to feed an army awaited my return at the finish control and whilst the ride organiser checked and stamped my Brevet card, I duly returned the favour by testing a couple of bits of cake and a rather delicious bowl of Chilli and pasta and can assure you that they all passed muster, in fact the ginger cake was almost good enough to tempt me back for another go at what is a delightful ride, through some lovely countryside, again next year.
After my minor success in fixing my knee issues I’ve had a better look at the saddle situation and I’m hopeful that a slight change of height may prevent any more knee problems. I haven’t got anything on next weekend (bank holiday), apart from a million odd jobs that need doing and I really need to sort the allotment out, but hopefully that will give me the chance to get out from home on the bike a few times and I’ll take the tools with me and have a play with saddle height and see what happens.
Watch this space and once I work out what’s going on I’ll report back.
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I’m having a bit of a struggle at the moment and I really don’t know why. Well, actually that’s a lie, I do know why, which I’ll get onto in a minute, but first I seem to have got behind on the blog front again. Normally, I sit down and the words just flow, but recently it’s seemed like a chore and not the cathartic experience that it normally is. I normally seem to have something worthy of talking about, or some observation that’s worth mentioning and recording for prosperity, but at the moment it’s like getting blood out of a stone. You would think that the hard ones would be the weeks when I’ve not been up to much, or nothing interesting has happened, but that’s not the case. Last week's post is a fine example. I had a brilliant time playing bikes at Brevet Cymru but getting that down on paper was like pushing water uphill, surely the words should just flow, but no! I suspect that it doesn’t help that I’m really struggling for motivation at the moment, and I don’t know why that is either, although I suspect my ongoing knee issues and the miserable weather aren’t helping. No that that should be holding me back, springs here, summers on its way, yet I’m about as enthused as a dead slug (and I wish there were a few more of those around). The weather for the last couple of weeks has been awful too, the Saturday of the Coronation saw rain all day and the Bank holiday Monday wasn’t much better, plus I think I’ve got wet on the work commute more times in May than I did over the entire winter months, what’s that all about? The endless rain’s not helping on the Allotment front either. Normally by this time of year, the plot would be dug and most stuff would be planted out and enjoying the Spring sunshine. At the moment though it’s just a waterlogged mud bath that’s far too wet to dig, and the lack of sunshine means that everything's just sat in the greenhouse feeling sorry for itself (a bit like me). I suspect that my ongoing Knee problems are the root cause of my lack of enthusiasm. I’ve made enough of a song and dance about the left one (which has been ongoing for a couple of months and I’m seeing the Physio about), but the right one causing problems during Brevet Cymru was another knock to my confidence and another set back, although it seems to have recovered fairly well, so I’ve got my fingers crossed that, that was only a temporary setback. I’m still not running though and it’s getting to the point now where it’s incredibly frustrating and there seems to be no end in sight. Unlike most of the population I want to run, but I can’t, and I know that as the weeks go on it will get harder and harder to get back to the same level of fitness that I had before (and maybe impossible) which is somewhat depressing. If I can’t run and my knees hurt from cycling then what's the point? That doesn't mean that I haven’t been doing anything though, far from it. Whilst I haven't been running or cycling for the past couple of weekends (apart from the daily 22 mile work commute by bike) I have been trying to keep myself busy. So in an attempt to avoid boring you all to death, and to make my life easier, let’s catch up the last 2 weeks of pottering around and I promise that normal service should resume next week (if nothing else I’m determined to stop being a miserable so and so and get out there and start enjoying myself again). So, in no particular order, over the last 2 weekends, amongst other things I’ve; Here's an easy one to start with, or it should have been an easy one; A few weeks back "The Emma" said that the horn on her Peugeot had stopped working and could I have a look. I had a look and the wires had corroded through at the plug, that should be a quick 2 minute fix. But hold on with your quick fix, nothings that simple. To get at the plug the bumper needs to come off, but to get the bumper off the grilles got to come off, and to get the grille off the headlights have to come out, and to get the headlights out ............ Well you get the idea. While the bumper was off I also fixed the Cooling fan high speed relay, which likewise had corroded into a green mess, and while there's no pictures of any of that lot, there are a couple of the next issue. It's pretty rare that I drive Emma's cars (normally only when they need fixing) so I was somewhat surprised to find that on starting the "Pug" to move it round to the garage, that it sounded like a bag of spanners falling down a lift shaft. I asked "The Emma" how long it had sounded like that and she said "A couple of weeks, it's getting worse though". Closer inspection showed that the auxiliary drive belt was only half on the tensioner and the tensioner looked like it was about to fail completely. A pretty easy fix once you get out every tool you own, and take the wheel, arch liner, and bottom pulley off. An easy enough fix for a Sunday morning, but it's always good to know that the horn not working is worthy of immediate repair, but the sounds of impending engine failure from under the bonnet don't warrant a mention in "The Emmas" world of driving! The front lawns been a bit of an ongoing project for the last few weeks. It's never had much grass, it's just weeds and moss, which whilst it looks awful, does mean that it doesn't need mowing very often. For some unknown reason I decided that I'd had enough of Moss and weeds though and I'd do something about it this year, starting a month or so back with a good sprinkling of Moss killer. That's been followed up over the past month or so with multiple goings over with the lawn rake which did a really good job of pulling up the moss and revealing how little grass there actually was. So this weekend I've marched up and down stabbing the ground to death with a fork (and ruining my wrists) to get a bit of aeration going, filled in all the holes with topsoil, and generally levelled it out a bit and re-sown it. With lots of nice shade tolerant grass seed. Which no doubt means that it'll never rain again and all my efforts will have been a waste of time and we will have to live with a bare mud front garden until the autumn! This next ones a bit of a setback; A couple of months ago I noticed that the ceiling trim next to the sliding door on the van was damp. Now, the door runner, which is attached to the van roof, is the only part of the entire living area which isn't insulated (because it's impossible) and as such it tends to be where the condensation gathers on a cold day. Armed with this information, I assumed that condensation dripping off the door rail and catching on the ceiling trim was the issue. So I dried it out and started watching it a bit more closely. Roll on a few more weeks and it was actually wet, not just damp. So I took the trim piece out for a better look, dried everything out again, and left it out for a better look. Whilst it was in bits I took the door seals off and cleaned then too, just in case water was getting in through the door seal. I left the trim off for a couple of weeks and couldn't find any issues and everything seemed dry, so I put it back together again, and it was fine for a few weeks. Fine that is until a couple of weeks ago when after sitting unused for a couple of weeks there was actually a small puddle on the floor and the trim was dripping wet! I still wasn't convinced it wasn't condensation, as I couldn't see any way for water to be getting in there. The ceiling was dry to the touch, the area where the insulation meets the door rail felt dry and the only other place water could be getting in was around the skylight, but that also appeared to be dry. Any way, last weekend it was wet again, so I finally bit the bullet and started removing things to get a better look. Cutting a long story short, the sealant around the front left corner of the skylight had given way and during heavy rain water was finding it's way between the skylight and structure. From there it was running down the opening and then tracking under the bottom layer of insulation to come out above the door rail. Why it couldn't have just found it's way down the edge of the skylight I don't know, because if that was the case, which would have been the path of least resistance, I'd have found the problem ages ago and done something about it. Now if you've read "the van plan" you'll know that the roof light and ceiling were the first things to get fitted! Que one nightmare trying to get enough room to take the roof light out to reseal it and then refit the ceiling, once it and all the insulation, had dried out. I got there in the end though and only time will tell if it's successful. Whilst I was there I did notice a minor design flaw on my part, which could have played a part in the water ingress, where I'd joined the roof light support on a corner. So I've redesigned and remade that while I was at it, which will hopefully help, and I've added extra sealing to the cut out in the hope that if it does leak again the water will drip off the roof light opening and not track elsewhere, giving me a better chance of catching future problems before they happen. A wet Saturday morning resulted in a few bottles of Chilli oil (made with home grown Chillies which have been drying in the airing cupboard all winter), which can get put away to mature. And a few jars of "Mymalade" "It's just marmalade but made by me". Obviously, despite the weather doing it's best to hold back progress there's been plenty going on in the garden and on the allotment too. While I'm pottering around fixing stuff, I've been watching the coolant on my "Bangernomics" run around for a few months. When I got it in December 2021 the coolant reservoir looked pretty oily (never a very good sign) although I don't remember there actually being any oil in the coolant, but it had just had a new radiator, so the coolant would have been drained for that! Anyway, at the time I serviced it and changed the coolant and gave the reservoir a clean out and thought I'd see what happened. A year later and the reservoir's oily again and there's been a small amount of oil into the coolant (there's an oil and water passage in close proximity at the head gasket and leaking across is a common fault). Now, I know it's probably leaking, but I don't really want to pull the head off if I can help it. So before I do that, lets reset to a known good point and see how much it is actually leaking. To that end then, it's had a good dose of cleaning fluid through the coolant system, followed by a really good wash out, and before refilling it I cleaned the reservoir out again. Obviously now I know it's definitely clean (something I couldn't guarantee when I got it) I can see what happens over the next few weeks / months. If it really oils up again, then I'll change the head gasket while the weathers good, but if I think I can live with it, maybe with regular coolant changes, then I think that's the best option. At the end of the day it's only a run around so it's hardly worth spending the time and money on. While I was pottering around I also changed the rocker cover and seal for one that I got from the "scrappy" and refurbished (cover that is, not the seal, that's new). As they say "a shiny engine is a happy engine" and that looks much better than the rusty, leaky one that was there. Next up, a Sofa story; When "The Emma" and I first moved in together one of the first things we bought was a Sofa, and while we waited for it to be delivered (8 weeks) we sat on 2 inflatable camping chairs - Happy days. Roll on 16 years and 3 house moves later, that Sofa is starting to show it's age. It was still clean and tidy, but it was a bit low for my old back, and one of the springs had gone (It's had a plank of MDF under the cushions for about 2 years to make it a bit firmer) and the time for a replacement was fast approaching. Wasting a Sunday that could have been far better spent, trawling round furniture showrooms and fighting off useless salesmen, finally resulted in an acceptable replacement which was for delivery this week. The first problem was what to do with the old one? I asked around at work in case anyone wanted it, to no avail, so we stuck it on Market Place and Gumtree for free, but had no takers, which is a shame because it would probably have served someone well for a couple of years. Instead, it had to meet it's maker so I took the big hammer to it and took it to the tip. I'd have taken it in one piece but it was a bit unwieldy to move on my own. Now, when we ordered the new sofa, the nice salesperson said "The feet on all these sofas are a bit rubbish. But we can sell you some different ones for £50 a set". H'mmm let me think about this for a few seconds said I. How about "No". She was right though, the feet on the new sofa are a bit rubbish. They're rubbish as they're really small so all that's going to happen is they're going to sink into our new plush carpet and deep underlay and that'll be the sofa immovable and the carpet and underlay left with great big divots where the sofa sits. What they really need is some £50 feet that are a bit wider to spread the load a bit and stop them sinking into the carpet. And I'm sure I've seen some tucked away somewhere. And there we go. 8 load spreaders for the sofa feet to stop them sinking into the new carpet. Total cost, half an hour of my time, a couple of pounds worth of scrap plywood and thousands of pounds worth of tools (but we'll ignore that). Either way it's still £100 in my pocket and not the furniture salespersons! and as they're going under the sofa they'll never be seen again. And one last one before I go. I think I might have mentioned these a few weeks ago, but after the success of the first set, I've since fixed some more. Shimano rear derailleurs (were talking bike stuff now) come as standard with sprockets that run on pins and bushes (no bearings fitted), which is fine. However, as it's just a metal on metal bush they tend to wear, and as they wear the float and general sloppiness increases and the gear shifting starts to suffer. Obviously, you can get Shimano replacements, but a cost effective option is to upgrade to non OEM parts with roller bearings, which seems to result in crisper and improved shifting across the board. And anything you can do to make life a bit better when your 300Km into a 400 Km Audax, it's dark and raining, and you've already changed gear approximately a million times, is a plus in my book. The roller bearings come with their own issues though. Eventually water and dirt gets past the seals and the bearings jam up. I seem to get at least a year, if not two, of all weather riding out of a set of sprockets, but for the sake of a £2 of bearings you end up throwing £20 of sprockets away. Or is there another option? The first set of these that I changed the bearings on have done over 1000 miles now with no problems and I've just done the set on my work bike (and a spare set too) so we'll see how they hold up.
I don't know how many times I'll get away with pressing new bearings in before the plastic sprocket deforms or splits, but even if it's only once, it's bought a new lease of life to an allegedly un-fixable, disposable, part, and that's a plus in my book. What’s this all about then? 3 Bank holiday weekends in one month, surely they could have arranged the Coronation for June or July and spread the love out a bit couldn’t they? I guess there must be a reason for it and I suppose that I could look it up if I was really bothered. In fact I’m only annoyed about it because I’ve had to cancel a running event that I was supposed to be doing next weekend (06 May), because my Knees still not better, so now I’m hunting around for something else to do instead. If I was running I’d be saying, 3 bank holidays in May, brilliant. But it’s not, so I’m not! Really, I suppose I should get the first bank holiday weekend out of the way before I start worrying about next weekend though, so to that end, what have I been up to? Well, the main focus of attention, which if I’m honest took up most of the weekend, was Brevet Cymru. Not content with knocking out a 400Km Audax last weekend, I thought I’d really kick the backside out of it by doing another one. Yes that’s right, I didn’t learn my lesson last weekend, so I’ve had another go at punishing my legs. I’d been looking forward to this one for a while (Sssh at the back, cycling 250 miles in under 27 hours is perfectly normal behavior, so why wouldn't I be looking forward to it?). Bonkers or not, it looked like a good route, Chepstow, Hay-on-Wye, Llandovery, Tregaron, New Quay, Back to Llandovery and home via Brecon and Abergavenny. Now what’s not to like about that? 250 Miles through some of the finest countryside our great country has to offer, and at one of the best times to do it too, just as all the trees are starting to get their leaves, the fields are full of Lambs frolicking in the sun and the worst of the winter weather is hopefully behind us. With an 06:00 start I took the van down to Chepstow on Friday night and had a comfortable night in a quiet little spot that I’ve used a few times before, before being unceremoniously woken by the alarm at 04:15. I say, unceremoniously woken, but if I’m honest I was actually awake before the alarm went off, so it wasn’t actually that much of a hardship. A brew and a bit of breakfast set me up nicely for the day and with the first light of day brightening the sky I rolled down the hill through a sleeping Chepstow to the start at Chepstow Castle, where plenty of other early morning enthusiasts were already gathering ready for a long day out. Brevet card collected and safely stowed in readiness for documenting the day's passage, all that remained was to loiter with intent as the time ticked down towards 06:00. The pre-race briefing was short and sweet, with only a single pothole worthy of mention, and as the clock ticked down towards the magic hour we made ready to depart. There appears to be a tradition in the Audax community that departures have to be as low key as possible, the ideal being to not even acknowledge it, and today was no different. Whilst the orgaiser may have been releasing 100+ riders off on an epic adventure, he stuck to the traditional format of “Well, off you go then” as if to say “What are you lot still doing here”. And so it was, that in the typically low key manner we were off, straight back through Chepstow and straight back up the hill that I’d rolled down half an hour earlier on my way to the start! It always takes a little while for everyone to find their place in the day's proceedings, faster riders coming up from behind, slower riders dropping back from the front and bigger groups gradually breaking down into smaller groups and lone riders, as the pace settles down, and today was no different. But, with a few miles under our wheels, a couple of short climbs dispatched and onto the flatter roads as we followed the Wye Valley up towards Tintern Abbey things soon settled down and the miles started rolling past at a fast rate on the flat, empty roads. The River Wye proved an amiable companion, with the early morning mist slowly rising from the river in the still, cool, early morning air, as we made our way towards Monmouth, where a change of direction saw us shadowing the England / Wales border as we started to make our way towards the coast. The Black Mountains off to our Left, the scene of some epic running adventures, replacing the river as our companion as we made our way towards the day's first checkpoint at Hay-on-Wye. Tempting as it was to make use of the hospitality being provided by Drover Cycles at the first checkpoint, sitting in the sun, drinking tea and eating cake, wasn’t going to get the days miles done, and besides, courtesy of some fast group riding and the flatter miles up through the Wye Valley it was still too early to be wasting precious time. So, Brevet card stamped, a refill of my water bottles, and with the day quickly warming up as the sun started to work its magic, thick gloves replaced with a thinner pair and I’m off again, next stop Llandovery. Spotting a handily positioned seat a few miles later on I stopped briefly to take my leg warmers off. If there’s one thing that you can almost guarantee, it’s if you spot a seat in the middle of nowhere it’s probably worth stopping to sit on it. You don’t go to all the trouble of putting a seat in the middle of nowhere for no reason, and today's brief stop proved just that with a stunning view back along the Wye Valley. If there’s a better place to take your leg warmers off then I don’t know where it is, but that little seat on the way to Erwood is worth stopping for, if you're ever that way. Back on the road again I was in my element, the sun warmed my legs, the fields alongside the route were lush, green, and full of spring Lambs, the hedgerows, green with new growth, were alive with birds busily nest building and the wooded areas were bright with Daffodils and early Bluebells, whilst off to the side the River Wye sparkled as it wound its way through the landscape. Llandovery and the second checkpoint of the day arrived just before lunchtime, where a pasty and a chocolate bar stood in the sun with the motorbikers, provided some sustenance, and the chance to stretch my legs before pushing on. The next couple of legs held most of the day's hardest climbing and from Llandovery it was a long steady climb for a few miles as we made our way towards Tregaron. I wasn’t going to complain about this one though as we would be coming back this way in a few hours time and as we all know, what goes up must come back down again. Making my way towards Tregaron I had the first inclination that something wasn’t quite right with my Right calf. It felt tight, stiff and sore when pushing hard on the pedals, not right at all and I briefly debated whether I should carry on. I was just under half way by this point and if it was sore now, how would it feel when I got towards the coast and the real hard climbs started? By the time I got to Tregaron it was pretty painful, feeling almost like I’d torn the muscle high up on the outside of the calf. A good stretch whilst getting some much needed calories on board at Tregaron seemed to help and when I got back on the bike a few minutes later to pass through the halfway mark, it didn’t seem quite as bad as it had done earlier. Between Tregaron and New Quay things were pretty lumpy, the long slow gradual climbs that we had experienced up until this point replaced with the more familiar, vertical up, followed immediately by vertically down, real morale breaking and leg killing stuff and really not helping my sore leg which started to complain with a vengeance when I pushed hard on it. Whatever happened I needed to get to New Quay as there was no chance of stopping in the middle of nowhere, so I pushed on, making the best of the downhill sections and taking it as easy as I could on the uphills. As the coast approached the sun was obscured by a low lying, damp, mist, which obscured the landscape and brought a chill to the air which necessitated putting my jacket, which I had removed after Llandovery, back on again. Descending into New Quay a few minutes later the mist petered out and the first glimpses of the sea provided proof that I was over half way and had successfully crossed from one side of Wales to the other in less than a day. Pretty, pastel coloured houses provided a picturesque backdrop, as I got a brew and delicious slice of Pizza from the bakery on the seafront, and joined the daytrippers and holiday makers on the promenade staring out to sea. My leg was still sore, but it didn’t feel any worse than it did when I left Tregaron so I had 3 choices. Push on for the return leg, or find a way back to Chepstow via public transport, or find somewhere to spend the night and hope it was better by tomorrow and ride back then? Another good stretch as I finished my brew and I opted to push on. I knew that there was some steep climbing to come as I made my way back inland, but figured that I could always walk the worst bits and that might actually help to stretch it out. And either way, that was still better than trying to work out how to get home by other means! I was right about the climbing after of New Quay as the road went straight up for what seemed like forever. It did however give me an excuse to walk on the steepest bit’s which as I suspected helped to stretch off my calf. A couple of miles inland the sun came out again revealing a stunning landscape and beautiful early evening. Not so good for the daytrippers who had spent the day in the overcast and mist on the coast, but excellent for the morale of a tired cyclists! Up, Down, Up,Up,Up, Down, more up and very little down, set the scene for the next couple of hours as I made my way steadily back towards Llandovery. Although I was making steady progress through the hilly landscape my Right leg was getting more painful with every energy sapping climb. Arriving in Llanybydder I stopped at a handy shop to replenish my water bottles and grab something to eat and took the opportunity to get some Ibuprofen at the same time. Not an ideal solution to my sore leg and not something I’d ever advocate and in fact normally actively avoid doing, but if it helped relax the tight and sore muscle enough to get me back to the finish, I thought it was a risk worth taking on this occasion. A couple more stiff climbs after Llanybydder saw the worst of the day's climbing dispatched and the more benign route, coupled with the painkillers that I’d taken earlier allowed my sore leg to stop complaining quite as much as it had been and settle down a bit. If things stayed like this then I thought I’d be able to get back to the finish under my own steam. In fact shortly after, things really looked up as we rejoined the route from Llandovery at the top of that hill I’d slogged up in the afternoon sun earlier in the day, for a long, fast, run back down again. Picking up the A40 at the bottom of the descent, a group of hot air balloons launching from a roadside field provided a welcome distraction, and reminded me of some happy times camping with “The Boy” when he was little. Thoughts which occupied my mind and accompanied me to the next checkpoint. A sausage roll and a brew from the Cafe which was staying open specially to cater for us cyclists, provided an opportunity to relax for a few minutes and stretch aching muscles whilst sitting in the evening sun, and I took the opportunity to prepare for the coming darkness at the same time. Leg warmers back on, headtorch attached to helmet, new batteries in my rear light, and off again, the sun setting behind me as I pushed on towards Brecon for the final 100KM. The A40 would be my companion all the way to Brecon and beyond, and although a busy road by day, by the time I left Llandovery, just a dusk was descending, it was deserted, just mile after mile of smooth, flat, easily navigable road. Lights on, head down and go, no need to think, no need to watch out for pot holes, no need to navigate, just let your mind wander and enjoy the peace and solitude of long distance cycling as darkness descends. Owl’s call from the darkness, Bats flit silently around in search of their tea, visible only as fleeting glimpses caught in the light of my headlight as they pursue their prey, a barn owl swoops in from the Left, veering off from a collision at the last minute to follow the road for a few meters, isolated farm houses are visible amongst the surrounding hills, their curtains drawn against the dark night, the warm glow from their windows the only clue as to their existence, and a million stars light the night sky as they have since the existence of man, whilst I in turn continue endlessly turning the pedals, slowly ticking off the miles. Sennybridge and Brecon pass unseen in the darkness and then I make the first mistake of the day as I miss a turn in the dark. I stay on the A40 when I should have turned off shortly after Brecon and unfortunately I don’t notice as the two roads mirror each other for a while on opposite sides of the River Usk and with my GPS zoomed out it doesn't stand out as being wrong. In fact I only notice, as lost in my daydreams I slog up a steep hill on the way into Bwlch, and suddenly realise that Bwlch isn’t on the route! By the time I realise my mistake I’ve probably gone 5 or 6 miles the wrong way. Bugger! Stopping to check my options I discover that it’s not as bad as I first thought and although I’ve added some additional climbing and a couple of extra miles to the days total (something I could have done without) I can actually just head to Crickhowell on the A40 and pick up the correct route from there - Result! My short diversion does no real harm and by 22:00 I’m at the final checkpoint for the day at Llangattock where a brightly lit school hall provides a temporary refuge from the darkness, and some lovely volunteers who have given up their saturday night to cater to the every need of a group of tired cyclists, pamper me with a much needed brew, a bowl of pasta and a slice of cake. Bliss! One last push then, just 30 short miles left to go. Allegedly it’s all downhill to Abergavenny, although no one’s mentioned what’s to come after that! They’re not far wrong either, and although it’s not all downhill, it is pretty benign, and I find myself rolling through Abergavenny just as the pubs have started kicking out, a loan cyclist amongst the tired and emotional drinkers, each making their way unsteadily home, kebab in hand, hangover pending! Usk comes shortly after Abergavenny where more late night drinkers litter the roads and loiter outside takeaways trying to prolong their night out. Shortly after Usk I make the turn onto the B4235 which will take us back to Chepstow, and the fast, easy miles come to an abrupt end, as one last brute of a climb looms large in front, a black stain across the lighter night sky, the lights of remote farms high in the sky ahead, the lights of a solitary car, shining like pinpricks high on the hillside above, clearly showing the extent of the climb ahead. It’s almost another Audax tradition, one last beast of a climb to test your mental fortitude and legs, when you're in sight of the finish line. But in this case there appears to be no alternative, whichever way you go, Chepstow is uphill! And a brute of a climb it is too. It’s long, it’s steep and on legs which have already done 230 miles it’s brutal. On a normal day I could get up here with no problems, but today it defeats me, and I end up walking the steepest parts. Eventually though, after what feels like a lifetime of toil, the top comes and I stop to put on my down jacket as extra protection against the cold which is surely going to bite into my tired body as I start the long descent into Chepstow and the end of my day. The cold night air does indeed try to penetrate every nook and cranny and I pull my jacket zip up tight and adjust my neck warmer as I descend steadily towards the day's end. And then, unexpectedly, I’m back where I started, on the edge of Chepstow, and I’m faced with a dilemma. I need a proof of passage receipt for my Brevet card, but I’ve got 2 choices. The 24 hour services on the far side of town, or a cashpoint receipt from the middle of town which is significantly closer to where I left the van. Surely this is a no brainer. Go to the services to buy something I don’t want, or roll down the hill, pick up an ATM receipt and be tucked up safely in the van in 10 minutes. Rolling through town it’s just gone 02:00 and the next wave of human detritus litters the streets as the late night pubs and clubs kick out and I pick my way slowly through, making my way carefully towards that final receipt and the end of my day. Aaarrrrgggghhhhh, the sodding ATM’s not working, Boll***s! I head deeper into town in search of another option but can’t find anything. Double Boll***s! Eventually I concede defeat and begin picking my way back through the late night drunks as I retrace my steps back up the stupidly steep hill, heading for the other option at the 24 Hour services! I should have just done that in the first place instead of trying to take the easy option, that’ll teach me! 250 Miles, 20 hours and a far better day out than the previous week's adventure at the Tour of the Southern Shires. I suspect though that I’m being unfair there and tiredness played a significant part in my problems the previous week and at some point I’m going to do the Southern Shires route again just to confirm that it is indeed brilliant!
But, Brevet Cymru, well that was just brilliant. The sun shone, the views were outstanding, the roads smooth and pothole free, the climbs hard, the descents fast, the motorists kind and considerate, the organisation superb and I really can't wait to come back and do this one again. It’s what long distance cycling is all about! |
Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
March 2024
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