At 10pm on Friday night I thought it was about time that I got myself organised for the following day's 300. This was a ride that I was looking forward to since it felt like an anniversary for me (the 300 having being my first ever 300 the year before), and I remember it as being not especially difficult: scenic, yes, and a few lumpy bits on the coast, but I remember finishing with plenty of time in hand and feeling good at the end.
I was a bit disconcerted when packing my bags because I couldn't think of anything to take. I'd got my tools stuffed in one outside pocket, but what else? Rain gear? No it was going to be scorchingly hot: aha! So take sun cream. Errm what else? A bit frantically I put my lock in another side pocket, in an irrational desire to fill up the gaping empty spaces in my bag. Ok, getting into the swing of things now: wallet and keys of course, and front and rear lights, but the main compartment in my bag still looks pathetically (and worryingly) empty. I make myself feel happier by stuffing my Gortex jacket in on top: who knows, there may be a downpour, and in any case the jacket will stop the lights etc. rattling around in the bag.
I was a bit worried about being able to get up the following morning as it was already midnight and I wanted to be up at 4am to have time for breakfast and to do the 45min-1hr ride to the start at 6am. of course, the anxiety didn't help me get to sleep, so although I did manage my 4am start, I was very groggy when I hit the road at 4.30am. En route I realised I've forgotten two essentials: space blanket and radio. Neither is really essential, but I'll miss having the radio: it's great to have it when you stop for a bit on your own.
To my consternation I realise that the hour's ride to the start may have been just that when I started cycling, but now it is more like half and hour: I realise I'm going to arrive at Bynea at 5.05am at this rate, so I stop for a smoke on the bridge to absorb the early morning view over the estuary. It is very peaceful, but I'm irritated that I don't have my radio to enhance the pleasure with a little classical music.
After a while a car with bikes attached passes me so I trundle down to the start. I am still too early: Dai (whose house is the start/finish) is not up yet, and the people who have just arrived in the car are just sitting inside and show no signs of getting out. Deprived of my chance of a chat, I go back to the estuary for another smoke: I could have spent more time in bed :-(
By 5.30am things are happening. John Spooner is there (having stayed at Dai's), Bill (bivvy bag on the lawn), a bunch of faces from somewhere East, David Lewis, John Ridge, Barry Lewis, Hugh and Mike from Bristol all of whom are Real Audaxers (tm) and not only pleasant to talk to, but the general chit-chat of rides past and future gets me psyched up for the ride. By the time we start there are about twenty of us: I am pleased for Dai as he only had nine starters for his 200.
As we ride away I learn (having only received my route sheet at the start, and not having bothered to look at it) that for some reason Dai was told that he had too many controls (?) so has had to take some of last year's stops out. At any rate, our first control is to be in Cardigan at 87k (ugh!), the next at St. David's at 153k (pardon?), then the last at St. Clear's at 246k - I think this is taking things too far! There are information controls (three), but now, anticipating plenty of road-side stops in lieu of controls, I really regret not having my radio.
Off then, to Cardigan via Carmarthen and Newcastle Emlyn. Feeling fresh and not having done an Audax ride for a couple of weeks, I start to think of putting in a 'performance': after all, this isn't a hard ride as such. I remember the big climb (220m) out of Bynea from last year, but not the fact that the hills are really quite tough - especially in view of the fact that they come at the start of the ride, and I have to winch myself up the second big climb out of Carmarthen. I'm riding at the head of the bunch with Ian (fast, strong rider from Axminster), a fit-looking rider called Andy, David Elvy and Ron: we're honking all the hills and doing 30kph on the flat, and although I have trouble keeping up with Ian and Andy on the climbs, I am surprised to see that I have dropped Ron (!!) and David looks like following suit. I press on to catch up with Ian and Andy but they drop me on the next climb, so I content myself with a bit of solo riding, but god, this leg is beginning to drag.
To my relief the control appears at Cardigan at 9.36am: 3.6 hours for 87k (24.17kph) with 1200m of climbing! Whoops - time for a long rest. After beans on toast and a cup of tea and a cake I'm feeling ready for off although my legs are a bit sore from my previous exertions - thoughts of a performance recede and are replaced with that of a gentle saunter along the scenic coast. Bzzt! I'd forgotten the nasty climb out of Cardigan through Goodwick: a real pig.
The road levels out and we (David has joined me for this leg) are rewarded with some scenic views which help me feel less than shattered, but now run into route sheet problems. So where the bloody hell is this Information Control? :-( We're supposed to be looking for a Dead End sign, but despite slowing down at every turning to the left and right for the last 10k we can find nothing. Eventually we decide, based on our local knowledge, that the turning down to the beach must have been what Dai had in mind, although in fact that road isn't a dead end. Grr.
The coast road is as I remembered: a real pleasure to cycle along with hardly any traffic and some great views and pretty villages. It is also quite lumpy and the weather is hot so the going is quite tough at times. As this is another long leg I start looking around for somewhere nice to stop. I don't see anywhere though, and am torn between stopping now - when I need to rather than when I'm knackered - and finding that quintessential stopping place. In the end I compromise and David joins me for an Ice Cream Control in Fishguard. Pleasant enough, and a group of riders behind us see what we're doing and they join us for a pleasant half an hour in the sun.
We all set off together out of Fishguard for St. David's. We're joined by David Lewis and John - an older rider whose face I know well. Up on Strumble Head route sheet paranoia sets in, and this is not helped by the fact that there are about seven or eight of us all with our own idea about the route. Worse, three of them have maps - all different and with differenct scale. After the second stop for protracted discussion, we decide at a cross-roads to go straight on. Most of the group have set off while I'd stopped to get something to eat, but when I start off too, I realise David and John are still behind me looking at maps, so I wait for them, and they decide to turn right.
In the end I put my trust in David as he often seems to be able to pick out interesting alternatives to boring routes. After a few miles of really enjoyable cycling we find the next Information Control without difficulty and shortly arrive at the Control in St. David's, but oh dear: the rest of our group are not there, and we start to feel a bit embarrassed. A full twenty minutes later they arrive with red sweaty faces that are not smiling after a 10 mile detour on the main road. Any hard feelings seemed to dissipate quickly though - probably a result of the Control being in a good café. Marvellous iced tea, pasta, scrummy cakes etc. St. David's square was also a real picture in the afternoon sun.
We'd arrived at 2.12pm with about two hours in hand and I had no inclination whatsoever to move: it was far too nice in the café. David and John left after eating, so I moved to David Elvy's table (David had been in the group that got lost), and as they weren't in a hurry and we stayed to talk to Barrie Lewis, it wasn't until about 3.40pm that we left for the final 150k.
The road from St. David's goes through Whitchurch and Llandeloy which is a quiet rural area that was a joy to cycle through. We'd done most of the climbing (about 3000m), but there were still a few lumps left and somewhere after Haverfordwest I started getting really tired and wasn't enjoying myself at all, so I stopped at a garage for a proper rest and something to eat. Again I regretted not having my radio as the garage was on a nondescript bit of road with a fair amount of traffic, so it had nothing at all to recommend itself to a jaded rider sat on the pavement feeling weary.
Feeling somewhat refreshed by a round of sandwiches, a bag of crisps, two cans of pop and an ice-cream I set off on my own and plodded along through Pembroke, Lamphey and Saundersfoot before hitting the A477 to St. Clear's. By the time I got to the control at the Little Chef, I was again feeling tired and so was immensely pleased when I came upon it unexpectedly at 8.38pm. The steak sandwich I'd had in St. David's (order with your brain, not your mouth!) hadn't agreed with me so at the control I only had a pot of coffee, but this was just what the doctor ordered, and I felt much improved when I set off with Hugh and Mike. Hugh is a really nice guy and I enjoyed cycling with him as he told me the story of his PBP (his first, aged 45) in 1991. Apparently he'd gashed his ankle badly enough to warrant three stitches only a few days before the ride: he managed 900k before having to pack. Poor chap!
Lights were needed when we set off from St. Clear's, so I put my front and rear Never Readys on but after a couple of miles I noticed the front light wasn't working. Strange - it was fine when I set off, and I thought it had freshly-charged batteries, and I wondered if it was broken in some way as there wasn't even a glimmer of light. Fortunately I discovered that it wasn't broken when I put my spare (rechargeable) batteries in, but unfortunately I discovered that the spare batteries were flat ones and gave up after about three seconds! Fortunately (again), I'd brought a backup rear LED, so I could transfer the batteries from the rear light to the front, but it was a bit nerve-racking (sp?) having to cycle thereafter with no further spares at night with 65k to go. In fact the front light gave up with about 10 miles to go but Mike had a good light for me to cycle behind, and we rolled into Bynea at 11.25pm after an easy main road bash down the A40 - quite busy, but not too bad.
I was pretty knackered at the finish and wondered how on earth I ever cycled 600 or 1000k let alone attempting the PBP. I am resolved to get some miles in - nothing long or strenuous before we go, but I think my initial charge was to blame for my tiredness - I could barely walk all day on Sunday although I am ok today. For PBP I will be a model even-pace rider. (Famous last words :-)