Who names a sportive after a sausage? Can't imagine the Pork and Apple Pedalathon or the Morrisons Tomato and Beef Mountain Madness, but then the Andouille Assault could be a possibility. I had been looking forwards to the Cumberland Challenge for ... well since the last one in 2008 which I entered but then woke 30 minutes after it had started and 40 miles away. Doh! It fits in quite nicely with it being about 6 weeks after the Wasdale Horseshoe and in a gap between the Fred and the Christmas Cracker (oh the news on that!!! Had convinced Kay that it could be her first race as well, had everything sorted and then the little chicken comes home happy as punch with an invite to a big slap up, dress up and rave up in Cockermouth ... on the 12th December ... Noooooooooooooooooooooo!!! Have used the, at least we'll be closer to Grasmere for the 13th but not sure it will stick!!!) and is a decent slog (105 miles). Of course being the genius I am, two things escaped me - first the six weeks summer holiday (or should I just call it the six week soggy holiday) and second the awful weather. Now I've lived in Cumbria and on the west coast side for ten years but even I haven't seen rain and wind like this before. Every bloody day I open the curtains to see another set of curtains about 100 feet up and battleship grey, the trees bending over like a double time hooker and rain blowing in so many directions it looks like a screensaver. So as Mexican Dave and I drove towards Carlisle and Brampton at 7am the fact that we'd both done only 30 miles training in 3 weeks was laying worryingly across our tingling thighs. We'd looked at the profile and it looked a lot nicer than the Lakeland Loop and the Fred which stick most of the agony at the end. Indeed, it has the major hill (Hartside) near the beginning and then mostly downhill to the finish.
I quite realised just how much Dave loves cycling when we went to unload the bikes. Mine was just laying across the top but his was lovingly sandwiched between its own blanket and 2 deck chair mattress things. He even had 2 pad things that he put on the floor and onto which he carefully placed the saddle and the handlebars - ahhhhhhhh, I bet his bike looks forwards to the 14th Feb when its gets a nice card, some chocs, flowers and perhaps a ride upto a classy restaurant ..... Weather wise we'd been quite worried given the last 3 weeks (months) and in driving over we'd seen a thick layer of grey cloud, but at least it was above Skiddaw and so suggested it might stay off and the trees had only been bent over to the extent of the five quid kiss and a hug package; one thumb up then for the weather conditions. Still, I wasn't going to get caught out like I'd been during the hailstorm from hell on the Fred ... well, except in hell the hail would have melted, but you get the point. A waterproof had been screwed up and shoved purposefully into the external pocket. We set off in groups to avoid starter's carnage, although one poor guy did nearly get crushed when a crash barrier fell into him. The refrain "Hang on, there are no fat guys in this group!" floated up from behind, and then we were off. The race itself is a figure 8 with the first stop/feed back at Brampton. The Southern Loop was a lot of fun - interesting and varied scenery with quite a few fun moments - coming down a descent, hard right ... into a flock of sheep, 4 lovely ferraris out on tour, with a crappy old honda civic sandwiched between them and an ambulance that kept trying to get past us but not very successfully on the single lane road to Hartside. 
So, to Hartside. I'd psyched myself up for it without ever having been on it and was worried that I hadn't managed some Hardknott ascents in my lack of training. Pah!!! It may be 1900 feet above sea level but the road to it is a middle class Laura Ashley Stenner Stairlift of an ascent. I kept waiting to go around the corner and be hit with some horror, but horror there was not. It was a very gentle zorro swish of lovely tarmac followed by one really long and pretty straight descent. I would compare it to Kirkstone Pass but only because that's the easiest pass of the Fred, and its much easier than that. The Fred really does give you a whole new measure when it comes to hill climbing I guess.  Anyway, on the way back to Brampton, the wind really kicked up and I got to play with 3 other guys in a great peloton type thing where we all take turns at the front, except apparently I need to learn a bit more as I thought you got to the front and went as fast as you could, which apparently isn't what you do if you want to keep friends. How fast are you supposed to go? At that point good old Barty Barton of Honister 92 was caught and he stayed with us, and a much bigger gang of lads, many from the Lune club, all the way into Brampton. Great feed station. I finally realised that having eaten malt loaf on the ride, eating ham and cheese rolls is the best way to go. Yum yum. I even stuffed some down my external pocket and thus a legend was born - fleecy's gourmet air dried, rain brushed yum yums. Sure there was a bit of grit but its good for the digestion. I do admit it was hard to leave Brampton. At 60 miles or so, my muscles had begun to remind me that I hadn't trained enough and they were about to start having something to say about that. Drizzle was also in the air and after the camaraderie of the feed station, another 55 miles out on the road was not an enticing prospect. At least the Fred has the good grace to push you so far from the start (and the car) that you have to finish it ... or get a taxi back. At some point, and not sure whether it was just after the feed station but a whole new experience awaited. Cycling up a village main street that was about 1 in 5 ... and cobbled. Drizzle had made them greasy and I had wheel spins that wouldn't have been out of place on a Merida mountain marathon. With my teeth almost having come out as well I decided enough was enough and bunny hopped onto the pavement edging stone - much easier - hope it wasn't cheating. The third quarter of the race I didn't like at all. It could have been the drizzle, it could have been the muscle issues but I just found it really ... boring I guess. It was mainly through a dark conifer forest or moor, full of ups and then downs - nothing serious but enough to be draining. After the varied challenges of the first half, it was a bit of a let down and I'd rather do 2 loops of the Southern section please. Got through it by tagging onto a girl with some slogan like Maranello across her rather cute bottom. Had a nice chat and my limited machismo kept up with her, until she told me she'd done the Fred that year in 6:51 so then I didn't feel so bad when she disappeared into the distance. Thank you whoever you are!!!  The second feed station seemed to take an age to reach. I'd thought it was at 80 miles but turns out it was 90, which was a pain during the ride but once I reached it and the ladies there said it was only 15 miles to the finish, and all downhill, I was smiling like a sensitive footed man with a pet octopus and eight feather dusters. Once again the sarnies were excellent, although some mustard on the ham and branston on the cheese would have really gone down well. The ladies replied in good humour that if they hit me I'd go down well, so I pledged to bring my own next time - what an arse eh!!!! On the bike again. Was it, could it really be true that it was all downhill. Well, no, but it was either flat or downhill - probably the easiest ride into a finish since the London to Dover race finished on the beach ... with the exception of the sadist who was operating the lights on that river crossing a mile from the end. How many people had to unclip, then desperately try to clip in with shaking legs whilst cars growled behind them. And then into the finish, with a big red flag waving man and lots of applause from supporters and finishers. Most appreciated. As were the sarky comments that the flag waver kept making, as well as watching people come into the finish at sprint speed, only to realise they only had about 2 metres in which to stop. Dibbed in, and then had tricky decision - Beanie hat or yellow and white racing cap. Opted for the cap as I look a right dick in the beanie. Probably look his best friend harry in that but hey ho as they say somewhere. What they did have that was impressive was a circle of computers on which you could enter your bib number and get the photos the professional company had taken. Must have a 3G solution to wirelessly transmit them from the field - very impressive although they need to add a "no snot" feature to the "red eye remover" as well. Went out with the iPhone ready to snap Mexican Dave as he came in, but 30 mins went by, then an hour ... and the bloody phone ran out of power. I'm sure he did it just so I couldn't take a photo but worse luck his dodgy knee started playing up and at 40 miles he started getting cramp in his right lower quad and had to cycle most of the race on one leg. Ouch!!! He had almost given up when hitting the first feed station - hmmmm, 3 more hours of agony or a pleasant afternoon in coffee shops and browsing antiques? Tricky, but the Zapatista that he is, he got on his steed and murdered the course. Actually his last section was faster than mine - he opted for the beanie (show off!!!) 6:36 for 105 miles, one ok hill and no training. I was pleased with my time but realised that 60 miles is probably my natural distance and anything over does actually require some effort. Still, nice to know for next time when sub 6 has got to be the target. Didn't fall asleep on the way back, didn't throw up. Didn't get hypothermia. No mechanicals. Hurrah!
Race was very well organised from start to finish and a big shout to all the marshalls and those at the feed stations. Camaraderie of the fellow riders was brilliant and it was lots of fun to ride with so many different accents, including listening in on one Geordie discussion about a cousin having an affair with ... but perhaps that's not for repeating. Signage was brilliant, if not amusing as I kept hitting signs saying "Danger - steep descent". Now, as anyone who's done the Fred knows, that is usually a cue for checking life insurance, clenching buttocks and hoping you'll see your loved ones again whereas these descents weren't quite as bad. On the drive back, Dave and I agreed that the third quarter was poor, something that might make us not consider doing it again but 48 hours later, I think it was probably a combination of the weather, lack of training as well as the boring nature of that part of the world. We have both said we would do it again (although Dave's mad canoe event : Devizes to Westminster might get in the way) - it deserves our support, being local, a good length and so well supported by other people - organisers and cyclists. I hope the cycling vicar got back safe and sound. Chatted to his support gang at the finish as I waited for the lazy ... I mean cramping Mexican and they were quite worried that he hadn't got back. Don't forget - do the Lakeland Loop before considering the Fred!!! All in all, a very enjoyable way to spend a sunday. |