Having nervously watched the weather forecasts after some hideous downpours, we were incredibly relieved to awake to a chilly, but sunny Autumn morning. Following a short ride to keep loose on the Friday, the bikes were cleaned, lubricated, and even polished to ready them for D-Day. Breakfast was forced down despite the effects of nerves turning butterflies into more of a washing machine on spin cycle sensation !
Kit and provisions had been carefully laid out to try and reduce the chances of forgetting something, and once our uniforms were on, we headed off on the fortunately short journey to Stoke on Trent. Upon our arrival at the event, we made our finishing touches and set off for the start line where nerves really set in. Surrounded by so many experienced riders, it was easy to feel as though we were in the wrong place and when lining up, images flash through your mind of the embarrassment of falling over at this point and causing carnage , and entertainment for on looking spectators and photographers.
A quick brief and we were off. Six months of preparation had finally reached the point at which it would be tested. We were fortunate enough to live locally and therefore had ‘the knowledge’ so to speak about the route. The first third of the course was a nice gentle warm up with a few inclines and we settled into a rhythm, resisting the temptation to go out too quickly spurred by more experienced riders flying past us and we did try to stick together so as to avoid arguments later in the day !
It was nice to have the odd chat with fellow riders and even get recognised despite starting out in bright yellow jackets like everybody else. The first feed station was a surprise in that an entire village seemed to have been taken over by a lycra clad army. Motorists must have wondered what on earth was going on with cyclists simply everywhere.
Shortly after this breather, the hills rolled into view and here we realised that our training had been ideal and how lucky we had been to be able to train in this area. As we found our rhythm and made steady progress, not so many cyclists passed us, we were passing them.
Arriving at the second stop, we listened to a few complaints about the severity of the climbs and we didn’t want to compound their depression by telling them of those yet to come ! The supplies weren’t bad, and the Mule bars were welcome but having worked on Kilo To Go events, we did cast a very critical eye over the set up !
From here, we rolled up and down over the beautiful countryside with a few awesome descents. Climbing first to Longnor, we then began to continue a climb toward Flash, the highest village in England. It was here that I realised that my shoe was loosening in its attachment to the pedal. Thankfully, our own support car was nearby where Jules was walking the Kilo To Go dogs, and taking photos. The toolkit was searched and my foot firmly tightened up !
Nic apparently did a great job of pulling along a group behind her up a climb and then they hurtled passed her an into the distance, down passed the spectacular Roaches. Mercifully the usual prevailing wind had taken the day off and this was a far more pleasant experience than our training ride when Nic had found it quite horrid with the wind throwing her all over the place as lorries thundered passed.
Our next stop was a sandwich break below the infamous Gunn Hill and a cup of tea which turned out to be cold ! Poor show guys ! Very disappointing.
Having tested ourselves on this hill repeatedly, we passed quite a few folks on the way up and we all did well looking at the published times for the King of the Mountain with Nic’s performance especially satisfying.
I guess we thought that it was plain sailing or cruising from here but there were several unpleasant climbs to come and the weather turned chillier. These climbs were on busier roads which made passing other cyclists much harder so having to alter rhythm. As we hit the 80 mile marker I started to suffer with pain from my neck which brought tears from my eyes. We stopped so I could pop a couple of painkillers and a SRAM support car pulled over to check we were OK. Spanners weren’t going to do much for this but they did offer a massage !
A couple of miles on and we met up with our supporter again where Deep Heat worked wonders leaving me ready to smile for the photographers nearer the finish although the smell emanating from my neck meant that my companions no longer wished to remain alongside me !
One final nasty hill which was apparently on the family ride, and would have reduced many a rider to walking, and we rolled back into the park and through the finishing gate, smiling, satisfied and instilled with a desire to do another one.
Far from being crippled, our joy worked as a wonderful painkiller and our training must have gotten us to just the right level as our muscles really didn’t hurt as much as we had expected. 24 hours later and Nic had worked out our 2011 cycling plan. Looks like the cycling bug has successfully bitten again !
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