It's always nice go get a ride in the calendar that is a little different. This one was especially different because it was nothing to do with me or the rest of the chaps. Our good friend Wendi was diagnosed with metastatic ovarian cancer in 2014 and since then has bravely endured two course of chemotherapy. After the third session of the third course, treatment was stopped due to it being ineffective. She then went through a series of radiotherapy sessions to treat localized tumors but throughout her ordeal, Wendi remained cheerful and was always the life and soul of the party. She was, without doubt, one of the bravest people I have ever met. The girls decided that they wanted to do something and so 'Wendi's Warriors' were born. .
Suzi, Leonie, Sue, Sharon, Molly and Jacqui ready to rock and roll at Windsor racecourse. Rewind several months and we devise a series of rides to prepare the girls for the big day. Most of the build-up was during the winter and spring, so we managed relatively few evening excursions due to the light, weather or both, plus the fact that the team work and live in different places. Every weekend we commit to at least one decent ride out, starting with steady twenty milers and culminating in several rides of fifty miles or so but with more hills than they would encounter on the day. I would like to say that the routes planned on their behalf were well received, but that wouldn't be true. Deep down I was convinced they enjoyed it and saw the sense of training hard in order to ride easy. Unfortunately - that wasn't true either. Ride the Night is an annual fundraiser that gives normal people the chance to something extraordinary. It's typical of events of this type where you need to raise a minimum sponsorship in order to partake. In this case, it was £199 each and, at the time of going to press, the total now stands at £3160.22 plus some 'corporate' income and plus Gift Aid - and it is still rising. .
The route changed slightly at the last minute and ended up being 64 miles, essentially it was along the Thames Valley from Windsor to Westminster and back. I don't think the capture above was the actual route on the day, but you get the idea. Short sections were on partly-closed roads but the majority of the time we were sharing the tarmac with the Saturday evening traffic which, I must say, was very patient and courteous. .
The Warriors were in the third mini-wave out at just after 21:00 and Suzi, Sharon, Jacqui, Leonie and Molly lead the charge (Sue hidden). Mark, Simon and I were loitering in the background and slipped out of the paddock a few minutes behind the girls. Our plan was to leave them to it but follow at a respectful distance carrying a rucsac full of spares and to be available in case of mechanicals. It was a warm evening, slightly overcast but with risk of scattered rain and the odd thunderstorm (apparently). Mark, Simon and I exited the racecourse and they were nowhere to be seen. We speeded up until we caught sight of them, guaged the cruising speed and then dropped back to follow. Mmmm 15.6 mph average - not bad ladies, I wonder how long that will last ? As it happened it lasted quite a while, right up until they hit the first thunderstorm approaching Teddington. This lasted barely five minutes, but resulted in every single part of man, girl and bike getting competely saturated. It stopped almost as quickly as it started and, luckily, it was so warm that it was pointless getting the waterproofs out. It was too late and we would dry out ... Or not. As we approached Richmond we hit another thunderstorm. This one was the size of London and appeared to sit right above us for the next three hours until we rode out of it near Teddington on the way back. Footage below courtesy of 'bluepeter27' via Youtube. .
There was a brief respite as we stopped a the mid-way feed station along the Mall, but the respite was that the 'deluge' reduced to a mere 'torrent'. There was no chance to get dry, still no point in putting a waterproof on but hanging around for too long would result in getting quite cold.
After a short stop, cup of tea and flapjack they are off again. It was such a shame that the weather wasn't kinder because cruising up the Mall and past the Palace in the peleton was pretty cool but it would have been even better under a clear sky. Mark, Simon and I decide to ride with them, Mark at the front and Simon and I at the back out of the way but just to make sure the traffic didn't get too close and / or stop the vehicles trying to overtake when they shouldn't. Stretches of road were so wet, we rode down the middle because we were unable to see what danger lurked under the surface. I cannot remember being caught out in such a storm - ever. It was so bad it was almost comical. Areas of the road along the embankment where there is an adverse camber - presumably designed specifically to get rid of water - were a foot under water. Cranks and feet were submerged during each rotation but the Warriors just took it all in their stride / stroke. We were soaked, the traffic was heavy and a few of the junctions and turnings in central London were a little tricky. We stopped at a funny 'wait for the lights and use the cycle path' thing and Jacqui slips whilst unclipping and hits the pavement quite hard. A small dose of soothing and some mild sympathy later she is back on it and the team slot into formation and start eating up the return mileage. It's still pi$$ing down, but hey ... We dropped down a short hill about forty miles in and came across a lady who had fallen off after, presumably, grabbing too much front brake. Simon and I stopped to help and Mark carried on with the Warriors. Essentially that's the last Simon and I saw of them as they rode off into the night - we never managed to catch them up ! .
We coaxed the lady onto her feet and off the road, mopped up some blood and eventually got her back on the bike. We slowly make our way towards the next feed station but after a mile we handed her over to two elderly ladies who were travelling at a similar speed and shoot off trying to catch up. Another mile later we stopped to repair someone's puncture and, while we are there, the lady who fell off comes trundling by with her helpers. By the time we got to the last feed station, the Warriors had left (well, we find out later they didn't bother to stop!). We check up on the lady who fell and she is OK but it is unclear if she will continue despite the damage being a mere flesh wound. We set off again at breakneck speed only to run into a small group at the side of road with two punctures. We fix one each, set off again, stopped for someone else - fix another puncture, stop - fix another, stop - Simon straightens a gear hanger, stop - Simon puts a chain back on and finally stopped again to help the only lady we came across who actually had a spare tube with her. Good job, because by this time almost all of ours have been given away and I had a rucsac full of useless rubber. Ahead of us, the Warriors had smashed it and finished in fine style. Whilst Simon and I were ticking off the last few miles at an unhealthy speed, the heroes of the evening were sucking up the adulation of the crowd, enjoying some light refreshments and posing for victory photos with their medals. .
I cannot tell you how proud we all are of their achievements. Despite riding through a storm of biblical proportions they never lost their sense of purpose or their sense of humour. They, and everyone else who took part, will remember this for a very long time. Chapeau ladies. The dust settles on a memorable event and we hear that they may do it again next year. We are praying for clear skies already. I think next time, Simon and I will volunteer to be official mobile helpers - perhaps that way someone else may provide the innertubes. Stats : Miles ridden - 65 Money raised - about £4250 including some 'invisible' Corporate sponsorship Rainfall - 137mm approx Accidents (minor) - one Scuffs & Scrapes - three Punctures - none Mechanicals - none Sense of humour failures - none Impressive stats indeed. Our lovely friend Wendi died shortly afterwards and on Friday 15th June she was laid to rest at the Eden Valley Woodland Burial Ground. I was honoured to be asked to help carry her to the final resting place with Simon (brother in law), Will (nephew) and Geordie (boyfriend). All the Warriors were there to say goodbye and we all cried. Massive thanks to everone who sponsored the girls and to the riders themselves who gave up their time for such a worthwhile cause. Even more massiver thanks to Simon and Sharon who did so much to help Wendi in so many ways, for making all the final arrangements and for just being there. .
Wendi Jane Day was only 47 when she died and, quite frankly, it sucks. However, It does remind you not to waste a single day.
2015 was a hectic cycling year and my first year riding with a road club. I bought a road bike (a cross bike actually, but close enough) and spent (and still do) as much time with the coffee and cake gang in Group 2 knocking out 30 milers, as I did with the more serious mile-munchers in Group 5. I had a baptism of fire, thankfully fueled by some hard training rides on the mountain bike. My first ride over 50 miles was 96 and both Alex and I completed our first 100 on the same day as our first 200 during the 205 mile-long Chase the Sun. CTS was one of our final training sessions for London to Paris - the event where we fell short of the '285 miles in 24 hour' target on the first attempt but went back in October and did it properly. The details are in the archive ... In 2016 I had a year off from cycling madness, despite racking up just shy of 6000km mostly on the single-speed and mostly between cafes. .
You get itchy though. You need something a little out of the ordinary just to keep you on your toes. So, I smiled when it was announced that we were putting the band back together in 2017. After much deliberation, we decided to continue our journey around Europe's capital cities and ride from Paris to Geneva. Abe and Martin set to work mapping it out. Abe, Alex, Johnny, Martin, Richard, Simon and I are getting quite good at this now. We all have a little something we bring to the party, we are all different but it tends to work out alright in the end. For this one, we decide to split the ride into three chunks, and divert through our twin town of Montargis for no other reason than getting a photo by the sign ! .
We squeeze in a big ride together every month, I manage weekly 100's in the final month or two and, two weeks before the event, we have back to back 125 milers (with early starts) over a single weekend. I felt tired, very tired, but I haven't been let down by my training methods so far and anticipate that a couple of active-rest weeks will see me right. Whilst this is all going on, Abe has been unwell with a serious blood disorder and has been undergoing a course of chemo along with some regular blood transfusions to boost his oxygen carrying / infection fighting capability. It is touch and go whether he will be fit to go and, even if he is, he may need some help. So we enlist Leonie as extra driver, caterer and all-round soigneur to the team. Thankfully, Abe feels well enough to come along, so the band is back-together. .
Martin and I drive the van to Paris. Not because we enjoy spending time together, more that I have a need to catch up with someone for a beer ! Martin is a helpful soul, and even points out the speed camera outside Dover but only after I had driven past it too quickly. Simon will be happy if he gets a speeding ticket whilst he is on the Eurostar.
Martin and I find the hotel first time but are not so lucky with the parking space. We abandon the van in an electric car charging bay and scour the car windscreens for 'soon-to-be-expiring' parking tickets. BINGO - a large space will become due in twenty minutes, so we loiter. We have the van sorted and I am showered and out by six and wandering off towards the Fontain Saint Michel to have beers with the lovely Beth (below) and Adrien. .
What a great catch-up; but the smile soon fades when the garcon brings the bill. I hadn't realized we had to pay ground rent whilst drinking in Paris, although I guess London would be as bad. I wandered back and spotted the guys in a cafe close to the hotel. Le Petit Cardinal on Rue Mongue, served some good value food and nice beer. In the end, we only had a couple and got to bed at a reasonable time. I had a somewhat squiffy night in the very stuffy room and woke about 04:30 with dreadful stomach ache and general headache / dehydration. I sneaked out of the room without waking Martin (I think) and wandered off to find the all-night chemist / cafe. After searching the district for several blocks in all directions I found nothing open. By the time I got back, the others were up and I cobbled together some out-of-date medication from everyone's toilet bags and drank a water bottle off the bike. A quick snack (granola bar) later and we were ready for the off - I felt like shit on a stick. .
The Eiffel Tower was in the wrong direction, but it is where we finished last time. It was a good plan to start there because Abe and Len could cycle with us, grab a random to take the team photo and then back via the hotel, pick up the van and start the ride proper. It wasn't far but it took forever with the traffic, lights and minor diversions. Almost two hours after setting off we had ridden 5.8 miles and taken two photos but, after a quick change of outfit, we were now good to go. .
The first scheduled stop was the bridge over the Seine in Melun. Simon, Martin, Johnny, me and Alex traversing the cobbles. Abe and Len had stayed close most of the way in case of issues but we arrived in decent time and in pretty good order. We had managed to stay on-track without navigational mishaps and averaged about 11mph which isn't bad for the roads through Paris. It would only get quicker. More importantly, my guts had settled, headache was gone and I'm back in the game. .
The remainder of the day passed without serious incident. A nice easy spin down through le Foret de Fontainebleu and the Loine river valley to Montargis. I had a session on Googley maps trying to find the 'twinned with Crowborough' sign and could't locate it, so we had to settle for Crowborough Road, tucked behind the launderette and the off licence. Nice. .
We stopped round the corner in the rather picturesque market square for a scheduled breather. Len and Abe had been shopping and there were fresh baguettes, ham, coffee, cake, fruit - you name it. I think we took on more calories than we had consumed so far that day, so much so that Johnny's legs gave way when he tried to get on his bike. .
The unmistakable sound of carbon and kneecap scraping on tarmac. The final leg to Auxerre took in one final mid-way coffee stop in Avallon in the delightful cobbled old town and a quick wildlife alert going through the woodland just south of Charbuy where a family of wild boar decided to shuffle across the road in front of us Good job I was at the front and quick enough with the camera to catch the tail-end charlie ... .
All in all, It felt like a 'downhill' sort of day. 130-odd miles in the bank and beer in hand by 19:00 as we languished in the garden at the hotel Normandie. We cleaned up and wandered off to the riverside for dinner. We can certainly recommend Le Quai if you are in the area. As the light faded at the end of the first day we were all ready for a relatively early night. Day 2 - and we are queuing for breakfast at 07:00 with a view to getting off by about 08:00. I do wonder what the attraction of a continental breakfasts is, all I see is a table full of ingredients you would never knowingly eat at the same time. A thick, tar-black french coffee, hard-boiled egg with peanut butter and a salami and Weetabix sandwich later we are lined up for the press. .
Johnny, Simon, Martin, Alex, Richard and me in the starting blocks. We started with a spin through the town and then onto a rolling section that culminates in a reasonably substantial climb - certainly steep enough to stop the chatter for a mile or so. We were cooled by a random light shower - the only bit of rain we had on the whole trip - but it was hardly worth getting the jackets on and we had dried off almost as quickly as we got wet. The roads were good and the traffic was light. We were making good progress and planned to get past the half-way mark before we stopped for lunch. I think the caption to this photo may be 'fat lads at the front' (Alex, me and Richard) for a change. Alex and I with matching, massive blue saddlebags / poo catchers. .
We stopped for a(nother) quick coffee but were soon making good time again in perfect conditions. We had a call from the rear to slow down just before lunch because we were getting a little strung-out. A quick re-group for the run in to lunch was called for and, as we dropped back to conversational pace, it transpires that we had been cruising at 26 mph for a while. I think we thought it felt comfortable under the circumstances, but as with all these events, everyone has a bad five minutes and if your bad-five happens when the others are doing 26 mph it's a bit tricky. Luckily, my bad-five minutes happened yesterday, in Paris, while we were stopping for traffic lights and doing 11 mph. Abe and Len had pulled one out of the hat and located a lovely spot for lunch at the Cafe du Nord in Arnay le Duc. They had persuaded the staff to stay open for us (they normally shut at 14:00) and they had arranged secure bike storage too. There was some concern about Johnny over lunch. The morning had taken a lot out of him and he was displaying the classic symptoms of heat exhaustion - pallid, quiet and listless. The 's' word was mentioned once, but we all agreed that no-one really wants to stop and we decided to rest a while, eat, drink and see if we could set off steady after lunch. Hats off to Mr Adams over the next hour as he forced some of his lunch down (I ate the rest), drank a bit, whinged quite a lot, but eventually got back on his bike and pedaled through it. It was a magnificent effort to come back from that dark place that we have all experienced. The mini-crisis was over and, several hours later, six tired little soldiers eventually pulled into the motel as the sun goes down on another long day in the saddle, Johnny (below) trying to wipe away the memory ... whilst Simon got his (bunk) bed ready in the rather basic (but clean and cheap) Europa Hotel in Lons Le Saunier. .
Another splendid meal was enjoyed at Le Chaudron on the outskirts of Louhans and we were tucked up in our bunk-beds nice and early. Day 3 started early with another insubstantial continental breakfast, so it became a priority to stop after an hour or two to have something else. Johnny is full of the joys of spring but Simon is limping - wonder what they got up to last night ! This was the big day as far as we were all concerned - less distance (about 85 miles) but a lot of climbing. So, after a twenty-mile warm up over some increasingly lumpy terrain, we stopped for another breakfast in Clairvaux Les Lacs at the typically-french A La Fontaine cafe. .
Abe and Len had commandeered prime seats by the square in the sunshine and the coffee and croissants were excellent. Simon sits quietly, pulls a face and rubs his slightly swollen ankle, he must have fallen from that top bunk last night. There is, of course, no sympathy on offer. Over to the East, the hills rise ominously towards the Swiss border. We tug ourselves up the first substantial climb through the trees and then lose every hard-earned metre as we plummet down into the last large town - Saint Claude, losing the van temporarily as the road is blocked by a mile-long boot fair selling tut. No time to stop now though, a known Strava segment approaches and we know what is about to happen. We hit the bottom of the valley and look up into the clouds to roughly where we think the road is going. Too late, there is only five of us, we've lost Martin. He is off like a rat up a pipe, little ginger head titled to one side (checking to see if anyone has reacted to the break), left shoulder dropped, hungry for a KOM. A slight pause and Alex pulls clear too; although from his body language it looks like he has already settled for second place points on this Category 1 climb (5-10 km ≤ 8%), but there is a long way to go. That leaves Johnny, Simon, Richard and myself to bimble up at a pleasant touring speed whilst enjoying the views back down the valley from the gentle switchbacks (sounds better than corners, but they were corners really). It has warmed up a bit but Martin and Alex don't want to go too fast or they will be cold at the top waiting for us. With that in mind we slow down a bit ... My indifference to Strava is well-documented but it is a useful tool - mainly for auto-recording all your rides. Most people use it these days. Some people want others to know how good / fast they are; some people cannot train without some motivation; some even crave 'followers' who may 'like' them - whatever that is. Each to their own eh? It was, however, amusing and interesting in equal measure when the results of the day's KOM stage came in. The stats arrived, as if by magic, on someone's mobile telephone. What sort of devilry is this? Imagine if you will that a segment is, for example, 13.5km long and you rush off to get on the leader board but, by some misjudgment, you stop just before the end of that segment to wait for those friends you left behind at the bottom. The virtual clock presumably continues to tick ? Those friends - the fatter / slower / older ones perhaps - eventually appear but ride past you at the top and then deliberately speed up for a few minutes. What would Strava make of that I wonder ... .
The results are clear - Alex wears the polka dots, Johnny (who's been to the edge and back) thrashes Martin by a clear 40 seconds and Simon (bad ankle) is barely 14 seconds slower. It's a fact. We pass into a delightful alpine meadow under blue skies and wind our way up to what we thought may be the top. .
We were wrong, and as we round a bend we see the van parked up to mark a turning in the woods and the remarkable support team of Abe and Len have a veritable feast laid on for our last stop. Hot coffee, croissants with fresh ham and cheese, brownies, jelly babies, custard creams, i could go on .... Simon takes the opportunity to milk the 'broken ankle but great climbing rhythm' story and limps around the lunch stop for effect. He even removes his sock and shows us the bruise. Most of us can't see what the problem is. After a short break, we have one last push to the top. At the very start, the plan was to try and get Abe and / or Len to do at least some riding with us, but it's tricky to fit that in when you are up against a schedule. Abe's not up for it, so this was the chance to let Len loose on the last twenty miles or so - probably seven to the top and another 13 or so down the other side. We all make the top within a few minutes of each other and meet the van for a shirt change and photo before the victorious ride into Geneva. .
The last stretch was easy. A fast descent on a great road with some awesome switchbacks where we were doing similar speeds to the cars and motorbikes in stretches. Mindful to avoid any last-minute slip ups, we enter the bustle of Geneva unscathed and all-together. Ahead of us we spot Abe navigating his way across the bridge to the RV in the bus lane ! Simon doesn't know about the fine from Dover yet, let alone the ticket Abe's about to collect for him in Geneva. .
A mile away, round the one-way system we locate the hotel Ibis. Mmmm, actually very nice and located in an 'interesting' part of town. The local businesses appear to be a mix of Lebanese restaurants, wig shops and (ahem) public services. The view from the front door down the rue Sismondi reminded me of the cover on the first (and probably best) album I bought ... .
Needless to say, beer and food followed and, to my knowledge, no-one had enough energy for anything else. Well, Martin didn't wake me on his way out ... All too soon our adventure was over and we are on our way to the Airport for the return trip leaving Abe and Martin to drive home. Stats : Miles ridden 350 Miles driven 1472 Speeding Tickets 0 (phew) Driving Offences 0 (ditto) Falls 1 (Johnny Adams) Minor personal crises 2 (Johnny Adams, Simon Relf) Beers per head 18 (average) Punctures 0 Mechanicals 0 Thanks to the girls left behind who allowed this to happen and the amazing support of Abe and Leonie, without which such events would not be possible. Next year ? - The Fred Whitton has been mentioned. Rest assured there will be a 'next'. Insert winky-smiley. Finally, and for no other reason than Johnny spent ages at the airport creating this wonderful homage to the only rider to complete the whole event on a cast-iron cyclo-cross bike that weighs at least twice that of his carbon-riding com-padres. I am honoured. What a good likeness (that's me on the LEFT). .
