September had been wetter than in the previous years and the wet weather at the start of the race served to dampen any surfaces that had dared to dry out in the preceding days. Starting near the back for some reason was a disadvantage as soon as the peleton turned off the main road and bottlenecks formed at the cattle grid and any slight uphill or muddy stretch of which there are a few. I cursed my honesty in starting beside the 4-4.5 hr board.

Up Simon Fell I always seem to be able to pass people – here is where runners score compared with the road sections and descents when the roadies and mountainbikers clear off. One of the Wheelbase Team juniors pleaded with me to tell him that we could see the top of Ingleborough – no, sorry, we’ve a long way yet! The summit reached a minute or so down on past good times indicated it wasn’t going to be a record breaking time; instead I vowed to try and stay on the bike down to Cold Cotes for a change. Bog and more bog hampered progress and cost more minutes but at least towards the bottom I was overtaking people.

I picked up a fast bunch on the road to Whernside then plodded up the new slabs again passing people on the way. I’d felt tired at this stage last year so was encouraged by how I was feeling at this point. In line with an increasing obsessiveness about this race I’d been working on some specific training, riding on a circuit round ‘our’ quarry, deliberately convoluted to include steep ascents and descents that are either not rideable or very technical. I’d also tried some new ‘carbo loading’ technique involving beetroot pizza – perhaps it was working and the training paying off.

Loved the descent from Whernside feeling reasonable fast and, more importantly, in control. From Ribblehead I was a bit alarmed to see a rider in front of me on the wrong side of the road, blithely riding round blind bends in danger from on-coming traffic. Catching him up I realised he was foreign, Italian I think, so shouted that he needed to be on the left. He duly latched onto my back wheel sheltering from the headwind!

Riding up the Pen y Ghent track is entertaining for an average mid-pack rider like me because we get to see the elite riders chasing each other back down again. Two in particular were in a right ding-dong battle, bouncing all over the track and scattering spectators on the way. I saw Morgan Donnelly, going well, and some others I recognized, but no Dave Haygarth.  I assumed he must be going really well but sadly rounded a corner to find him walking down nursing his arm. I’d never actually met Dave at this point, just communicated virtually, but this didn’t seem to be the time to introduce myself – he mumbled ‘collar bone’ and I pressed on.

A group of walkers coming down commented that “the top riders cycle up here” – he caught me smiling and apologized when he realised I’d overheard as I continued on foot. Still feeling strong the summit soon came and I fled back down if a little gingerly in places, wary from my own and other’s experiences.

Thanks to Martin Henson

And so after battling the headwind  for the last couple of miles, Helwith Bridge saw me again 4hr 24mins since I’d left. Not a record but satisfying on a tough day when the conditions must have been worth at least 10 mins!

No mechanicals. No falling off. No records but a great day out and a whole load more people to follow on Twitter.

Post Script:

Four days later I’m still buzzing from this event and still digesting everyone else’s experiences. Have a look at Dave Haygarth’s http://3pcx.blogspot.com/  for many other versions!

The NR Cyclone was a blast. 107 miles in 6.23 was very pleasing – better than I had imagined possible – and had showed me the benefits and fun involved in riding in a group, even if I did lose contact with one lot at first.
Sadly the Bob Graham was unsuccessful but we had a good day out and were early home after getting the message it was all off at 4.30am when we were waiting for the triumphant descent off Skiddaw.

The Kielder 100 was a horror. There have been many reports on the internet of the grim conditions and brake pad eating mud that I don’t need to add mine. Just to say I used 3 sets of pads and got timed out at 80 miles after having to repeatedly re-fix my LH crank and getting a puncture at the critical moment. Bah!

So to the 3 peaks. . .

My hands had been really sore at the end of the day last year from braking on the hoods so going down Ingleborough was a place to experiment. Skidding on my side through a bog made me realise that the ‘chicken levers’ offer little modulation or feedback even if the riding position feels better! Braking from the drops like the experts seem to do is the answer, if you’re an expert . . .

Tagged on a line of about 8 others on the road to Whernside certainly made it feel faster, thinking about keeping my cadence up and just going fast must have helped too. Through the drinks station I realised I was riding next to Isla Rowntree so on behalf of Sam said hello and how much he loves his bike. She and I then kept exchanging places til much later – I would pass her up the hills and on the road later when she had cramp; she, being a class-act, would leave me for dead down the hills (not quite literally as it turned out).
The top of Whernside was a fantastic place to be that day with clear views in all directions just no time to enjoy them. The descent went well, surviving the steep grassy bit down to the track at the bottom by luck alone as I couldn’t actually see where I was going and couldn’t go any more slowly! Negotiating a truck stuck at Ribblehead due to all the traffic was easy on a bike, especially one that will go offroad. On this next road section I noticed that several people seem to involve friends to pace them along – one bloke in particular went flying past being dragged by two mates. I couldn’t even think about joining them at this point and had to settle for just riding along.
Sadly when I checked my watch on the approach to Pen y Ghent it was obvious that no records would be broken, in fact I had my work cut out just to equal last year’s time. Pedalling up the track seemed much easier than before but then when the walking started the cramp set in. Stuffing down more flapjack and drinking what was left in my bottle staved it off but it must have cost some time. Not as much as what happened next though. Coming back down, this time briefly ahead of Isla, I discovered the problem with braking from the drops and was catapulted over the handlebars on a section I should have walked. The landing was one of those awful, bone jarring, crunches on my chin which caused some real alarm amongst the people ascending. Luckily there was no blood evident and teeth seemed ok so I ran off down the bit we’d watched the night before and wondered why people didn’t ride it!

Back on the road at Horton the cramp came on again and with no 60yr old veteran to drag me in this year I had to muddle along to finish 8 mins slower than last year. Disappointing but appropriately humbling. Isla Rowntree finished 2 mins ahead of me and my descent from PyG was 6sec slower than last year. All my time lost was on the last two ascents. Conditions had been excellent so obviously I’m just not as fit as I have been. I’d like to think this is a life stage thing – it’s harder to get out and train now the boys are bigger as they want to come too and they go to bed later – but I fear it may just be an age thing . . .

My 16 day old new fancy watch that shows me where I've been,etc and took some of the brunt of my fall still works!

There are a lot of me, my, I s in this account which I don’t really like but it is my account of what is a very personal experience of a race. It’s clear reading other people’s accounts that most people are in their own world of pain or pleasure for the duration. A selfish few hours then but something that’s horribly addictive!

Harry isn’t into cycling in the same way Sam is – he tends to get dragged along with varying amounts of enthusiasm on his part. This weekend Mum was away by train so we had the two factors of time to fill and a car to pick up and H was keen to cycle. I’d forgotten about swimming lessons but they were up for that too but that meant we didn’t get away until 2.30 – carefully timed to miss a torrential downpour which would probably have sent us back home if we’d been 10 mins earlier.

We came across a group of about 15 blokes who were riding the Hadrian Cycleway (one of them had fallen on the level crossing and was being sorted out by his mates) and then played cat and mouse with them for the next 15 miles or so, much to the boys’ amusement.

It was easy though – H managed without trouble and Sam seemed to relish his role as guide/expert advisor! We have a tradition of having a ‘feast’ when mum’s away which consists of loads of cream, meringue and fruit – we’d earned it today!

Having found the C2C in a day a fairly straightforward experience last year it made us wonder how far it would be possible to cycle in a day. So the idea of a Grand Tour of Northumberland was born. Actually, it was already born being a linking of the sustrans routes up the Northumberland coast, the Pennine Cycleway and the Hadrian’s Cycleway adding up to 220 miles or so – but could it be done in a day?

We decided that rather than follow the routes religiously we’d just take a triangle with Berwick, Haltwhistle and Tynemouth being the corners. All shortcuts in between were fair game, within reason.

An Alpine start from Beadnell saw me up at 2.30am and we were cycling at just after 4.00am in the morning chill. Smooth roads and a slight tail wind made for fast progress to Berwick – over the old bridge and back over the new, higher one – then on towards Etal. Immediately the variety of the Northumberland landscape was apparent as we exchanged dunes and links for rolling hills and arable fields with the larger hills of the Cheviots in the distance. Wooler was just waking up when we got there, just after 7, and the bakery provided us with freshly baked sausage rolls for breakfast – fantastic.

Nick had a GPS on his bars and became increasingly fascinated by our average speeds – moving average and overall average. He had a figure in his mind that we needed to stick to in order to get back to Beadnell in the same day based on how far he thought we would go. At this point everything looked great but having stopped to eat then been slowed by the hills and rough tracks, not to mention a couple of stops to check the map, and our overall average gradually dropped away. Still, we knew this section would be slower so just relaxed and enjoyed the scenery and the intimate views you get of it on a bicycle. Although the road was rolling we had been steadily gaining height until we dropped down dramatically at Alwinton, swooping round the bends down into the valley. From here we entered more familiar territory being the area we had ridden most in training, so we knew the climb at Billsmoor was ahead. Graham seemed to be flagging a bit here and later admitted that he needed refueling!

Luckily the café at Elsdon could provide. It’s a well known cyclists’ café but by accident really as the owner explained to us over a cup of tea or five. He knew he hadn’t seen us before so came and chatted with us while we ate cake and before long we’d heard how another café had closed just before he’d moved into the village with his wife. Cyclists kept arriving and knocking on his door asking for cups of tea so, since they didn’t use the front lounge, they decided to open a café themselves. Now, thirty years on, stuffed full of cycling memorabilia and a regular haunt of the regions cycling clubs, business seemed brisk. Too much of a distraction when you’ve an average speed to maintain though . . .

On through Bellingham then it was Nick’s turn to run out of fuel and he struggled up the hill at Brown Rigg waiting for the flapjack to kick in. Onward towards Kielder where our route took us on a rough forest track for about 4 miles in the heat of the day. That was tough and rough, so rough in fact that Nick discovered the bolt that retained his crank had rattled out. With no hope of finding it this could have been the end of his day but we managed to bodge it back together with cable ties and tyre levers – this worked for the next 100 miles!

Having taken in the panorama that stretched from southern Scotland to the North Pennines the way was down to Haltwhistle. Our average speed was now in tatters so a concerted effort along the Tyne Valley was needed. Unfortunately we had a headwind and, having had a bowlful of pasta at Fourstones, Graham was feeling sickly! Still he soldiered on and soon the quayside of Newcastle beckoned. It was Northumberland Plate day and although we were early there were a number of revellers out already – none of them were dressed in lycra. Nick’s friend John met us a supplied biscuits and water – he’d have loved to join us but was happy to play a support role instead.

We’d chosen to follow the main roads through Wallsend and North Shields rather than the river. For me this was the hardest section – I didn’t really know where I was and was growing tired of the headwind and sitting on my saddle! Tynemouth came soon enough though and there was John with more biscuits.

Turning North was a joy! Still with 50 miles or so to go we now had a strong tailwind and blasting along the seafront at Whitley Bay was a hoot. At this stage we forsook the cycle route and stuck to the main roads covering 20 miles in the next hour to bring us to Amble and some chips. Here, sadly, Graham decided he’d had enough and just couldn’t face the hills out of Warkworth and Lesbury which had assumed Alpine proportions in his imagination. This proved to be the correct decision as he was sick on the way up in the car and doesn’t remember much after that!

Nick and I pedalled steadily on into the gathering gloom as first the lights of Beadnell appeared, then grew closer, until finally we rolled back onto the caravan site, 210 miles and 18hrs, 40 min since we’d set off! Making the most of the day. A fantastic welcome from the families, some cake, champagne and bed was all we needed.

Mike and I had set off with about 230 others on the neutralised start, revelling in being up so early and setting off on a big adventure with lots of like-minded folk. Shortly after the 15 mile drink stop Mike’s gears packed up and while he cursed and tugged at them loads of people passed us. We soon caught and passed some of them then I found richpips and rode alongside for a chat. He’s got the other Scandal sample bike like mine (but smaller) but he was riding fixed and showing off his new trick of unclipping and putting his feet up on the forks for the downhills rather than spin at 140rpm!
Mike had ridden off while I was chatting but I caught him again on the next hill – it was clear he was starting to flag. The timing of this race probably meant that most people had just been on holiday which was hardly the best preparation. At 25 miles Mike had slowed, at 35 he told me to go off on my own and then he only managed another 7 before giving up – he certainly wasn’t alone.
I set off steadily, worried that I’d be tempted to go too fast and burn out. Gradually riders appeared and were passed then at the 49 mile feed I found some of the crowd we’d been with earlier, martinh, miketually and Kate. I was really hungry here and disappointed to find little food – just bananas and a few crackers – and I was regretting not bringing my own bag for the food drop. Still, the bananas seemed to work and I pressed on, chasing the cut off at 55 miles. I had plenty of time I thought and felt pretty good, especially when a couple of marshals congratulated me on a ‘brave effort’ when I rode up and short steep section before the new cross border trail. The new trail was really rough but eventually the sound of the piper at the border carried across the moorland through the mist. As I fumbled for my money I asked the marshal if this was the cut off but he said no, just around the corner. Glancing at my watch I realised it was 1.50, only 10 minutes to the cut-off! Charging over the ridge and down the other side I realised I was now close to Newcastleton and must have already passed the critical point. Panic over!
Refuelled and rested thanks to the wonderful ladies at the trailhead in Newcastleton I set off again with an eye on the time for the next cut off. I’d been and recce’d this bit only 10 days before so the trails were familiar but even so the drag back up along the river seemed to take forever – I just tried to keep the speedo above 7-8mph and always had a feeling there were people chasing me.
I was trying all the time to work out where the route would go. I figured it would end on the Lonesome Pine trail but realised there must still be a big loop after the next checkpoint – I was right, and it was blimmin’ hilly, of course! Eventually on the Lonesome Pine trail I caught up with martinh who was pushing up the steepest bits. He reckoned he hadn’t seen anyone for about an hour! We rode together for a bit then came to that same short steep bit that we’d already struggled up – having done it once I had to do it again, much to the surprise of the marshals, but I’d decided I was going to ride the whole thing now! Eventually at the top the adrenalin kicked in and I passed a few other riders on the blast down the hill in the gathering dusk before popping out of the forest to be told I’d finished!
What a cracking day! I really enjoyed it – much tougher than the C2C in a day which, frankly, was easy – varied trails, great support and good humoured marshals and competitors. The mountainbike equivalent of the Old County Tops fell race (although that’s still harder!).

Me and Dr Geoff Seccombe. If you missed it I hope it will be repeated next year.

The first two hours seemed to be all uphill then I joined the C2C above Stanhope and headed West. It soon became clear why east to west is not recommended – steady inclines followed by short, steep descents work much better the other way, especially when the prevailing wind is prevailing. The effect was to reduce my speed and with it my enthusiasm for a massive mileage – I wanted to go to the Hadrian Wall Show too.

So in the end settled for 70 miles with 8900ft of climbing. Not a bad leg stretcher and quite comfortable.

I spent some of last night tinkering in the garage and that must have been where I trod in some oily gunge which I then managed to walk all over the house this morning. I was wearing my tinkering slippers of course.

Great stuff today though. Richpips is selling off his hire bikes so a chance to buy a well specced 456 cheap which could one day become a Blue Pig . . . wahey.

So 10.25 was our time. Disappointing but two years ago we would have been delighted. It just emphasised what a storming run we had last year and how good the conditions must have been. This years winners were the same as last year but even they took about 20 mins longer. A combination of tonic water and chocolate seemed to keep the cramp under control (for me anyway).

In contrast Graham and John had a fantastic run getting round in 9.05 (59sec!) – that’s a 2hr improvement for Graham but it’s taken him 5yrs to do it. They were, naturally, gutted to have taken longer than 9hrs! Ho hum, there’s always next year when we’ll all be veterans.

So tomorrow I’ll be MUCH older. Hopefully it won’t rain too much as I’m going to play at Kielder.