Finish line and still smiling - must have been good!I mean, just where is the sense in carrying a bike up 3 dirty great big hills and then trying to ride down them, especially when the bike is lacking all those modern luxuries such as suspension and disc brakes to make riding back down again comfortable, and perhaps even safe?
About 500 riders lined up in a tiny Dales village yesterday morning, all dressed in lycra and wearing nervous grins and deep heat in abundance. The start is like a road race, with the bunch moving fast & furious through to Horton in Ribblesdale. After a very quick few road miles the route then turns uphill, on rough farm tracks and then out onto the fell. Last time I was here was about 25 years ago and I was disappearing underground down Long Churn Cave. This time we were pushing, sweating grunting over the top of it, bound for Simon Fell and the summit of Ingleborough.
The climb was purgatory. I was drowning in snot, not having much fun and ready to pack it all in. But then came the descent to Cold Cotes. Oh yes! Back in business and smiling again!
Back on tar again and heading round towards Whernside, came the most bizarre moment of the race. A small group of riders, all huddled together in a little chain gang, lead out by some chap with a babyseat complete with 2 year old on the back. No one saw how he got on carrying it up Whernside!
By comparison to Ingleborough, the ascent of Whernside was a doddle. Well, easier anyway. The descent off the other side slightly more interesting. I passed a fair few punctures, broken bits of bike and at least one broken collar bone.
Nearing the road again at Ribble Head Then the home run. From the iconic Ribble Head viaduct there's another blisteringly fast road section back to Horton. And then it all goes horribly wrong again. A left turn up a narrow cobbled lane and a 450m climb upwards, ever upwards to the summit of Pen-y-ghent. I quickly rang out of gears but somehow managed to keep on turning the pedals to the final steepening. All the while, far more able riders than I were hurtling back at us at ridiculous speeds over the cobbles - this was an out and back section.
The summit came and went. All there was to do now was finish. Back down that track, hanging on for dear life all the while, memories of a recent trip over the handle bars trying to break the concentration, and then a quick road sprint.
Crossing the line - an emotional experience!4 hours, 45 minutes after starting, came the joy of crossing the finish line. Mission accomplished. Race finished. And completed in under 5 hours. You beauty!
A few more pics here, courtesy of my support crew!
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