Up at 4.45am to leave at 5.15 to get to Dave's for a lift at 6.15 -
ugh! I drag myself out of bed and set off in the cold but sunny morning
for Dave's 16k away in Pontardulais. At 8k my left crank loosens so I stop
to fix it but horrors! I've left my tools at home, and I haven't brought
Dave's phone number with me ... Fortunately I'm used to the crank loosening
and have stopped as it started to go, so I am able to cautiously continue
to Dave's without being late, and Dave has a spare tool that I can borrow
for the day.
At the start at 7am it's cold: I'm only wearing a short-sleeved cycling
shirt and the wind is going straight through me. I contemplate putting
on my jacket (more or less the only thing apart from tyre levers and spare
tube that I'm carrying) but decide to suffer the initial cold since we'll
be climbing hills right from the start on this 2AAA ride. 2AAA!?
What on earth am doing?
We're off - heading due north to Brechfa over the hills. After the initial
5 minute charge sprinting up the hill, I settle down to a twiddle but feel
low. This hill is going on forever, and we're going to be doing this all
day. My spirits slump. Why am I doing this? my spirits improve slowly
as I start to warm up, and I am encouraged a little by the fact that as
a Super Grimpeur the minimum speed is 14.3kph - and the extra 40 minutes
will come in handy today.
At about 16km now, I am on my own between the fast group of about 10
riders and the rest of the field - perhaps 10 to 15 of them, so I am quite
happy to be plodding alone at my own pace as I winch my way up Mynydd Llanbyther.
The hills come thick and fast, and the descents are tricky - steep and
darkly shaded by woods but I'm feeling strong, the views are wonderful
and the weather is good so I am quite content and not at all worried about
the time. As we pass though Lampeter I think to stop for a cup of tea -
it's not a control, but hey! I'm fed up with head-down pressing-on type
riding. Most of the rest of the field pass me here. Eventually I roll into
the first control - quite a way at 41 miles - at Tregaron with an hour
in hand at 10.30ish. Beans on toast are the order of the day, and I spend
a pleasant relaxed 40 minutes there chatting to David and Anne, swapping
Tales of the Great Eastern with them and other
riders in the tail. I am now right at the back of the field - but I don't
care.
From Tregaron I set off on my own although D&A are just behind me
and are likely to catch me as I am only trundling along initially. But
we're on the flat road north to Devil's Bridge, and my pace soon picks
up until the route sheet sends me up the long drag out of Pontrhydygroes
and then - oh no - we are to fork right up to Cwmystwyth and then having
descended to the village, to go left and climb back out over the hill to
Devil's Bridge. The organiser (John Ridge) is a sadist! Ah well, it is
2AAA I suppose.
D&A seem to be taking their time, but I meet up with X from Basingstoke
at The Arch. He looks like a 'first timer' from his dress (trainers and
comfy touring clothes) and bike (battered old tourer with saddle held together
with 6 feet of sticky tape) but I recognise him from the 1000 and National
450. He's pleasant enough company but we have different riding styles
(he uses his brakes going downhill :-), so we cycle together and/or pass
each other intermittently.
From Devil's Bridge there are a few ups and downs before I find myself
cycling around the Nant-y-moch reservoir. The weather is now gloriously
sunny with huge fluffy white clouds, but there is still a bit of breeze
which is cold when I stop. The scenery is great, and I feel relaxed so
I have a 20 minute break at the dam for a fag and guzzle from my water
bottle. X rolls up after a few minutes but presses on, and then D&A
who are lanternes rouge turn up and stop with me for a while. Dave takes
a splendid photo (66k) of
me with Anne at the dam.
D&A press on and soon I leave only to pass them shortly thereafter.
The route from the dam takes me to Talybont. At the top of the climb you
get a stunning view down the valley to the sea. Amazing! Although I've
seen this view before I'd forgotten all about it and when I'd finished
the climb up from the reservoir and turned the corner left where you get
the view, I involuntarily yelled out "Wow!". Cycling can be so
rewarding.
After bombing down the long straight descent into the town, I got to
the White Lion control at 75 miles, still with about an hour in hand. Barry
Lewis is there and endears himself to me by wanting to know the story of
my 1000 and of course I am only too happy to oblige. D&A roll up shortly
along with X, and we spend a very pleasant half an hour in the afternoon
sun.
I set off with X for the last intermediate control at Lampeter (110
miles - the ride is actually a little over distance at 134 miles). This
section is later generally regarded as being the toughest of all. The area
is crisscrossed by long deep valleys, and our route goes directly across
them. The first climb is the worst - very similar to the climb out of Wells
onto the Mendips on the Three Towers. I meet X at the top and his face
is bright red and awash with sweat. I feel pleased with myself for feeling
reasonably fresh. (Although I had no mirror - perhaps I looked just as
knackered to him as he did to me :-) En route there are plenty of buzzards
- perhaps 6 or 7 sightings during the day, and, I am happy to report, these
are all of the living/flying around variety - they make a splendid sight,
especially when coming up on one unexpectedly and seeing it lazily drop
off its perch on a telegraph pole and wheel away barely flapping its wings.
The views are also stunning, especially one looking down into a basin/valley
that reminds me of brochure photographs of the Alps - no snow-capped mountains
of course, but the size and depth of the view were simply huge.
At Lampeter I am feeling happy and relaxed, and don't even bother to
check my time. After a scrummy cheese and onion pasty and an even scrummier
hot toffee apple fudge cake I set off for home which I reach without difficulty
at about 9pm. John has medals on display and the one for our ride is a
very pretty gold grimpeur medal. If I was uncertain about doing the equally
hard Best of British the following day, then
the prospect of having two of these side by side on my display of medals
certainly put paid to any ideas of not doing the ride.
David is at the final control where I find out that he has decided not
to do the ride tomorrow, but Barry has decided to do it and he can give
me a lift there and back. What have I let myself in for?
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© Kilgore's Enterprises February 1997
From Devil's Bridge there are a few ups and downs before I find myself
cycling around the Nant-y-moch reservoir. The weather is now gloriously
sunny with huge fluffy white clouds, but there is still a bit of breeze
which is cold when I stop. The scenery is great, and I feel relaxed so
I have a 20 minute break at the dam for a fag and guzzle from my water
bottle. X rolls up after a few minutes but presses on, and then D&A
who are lanternes rouge turn up and stop with me for a while. Dave takes
a splendid photo (66k) of
me with Anne at the dam.