Country roads-don't you love 'em, Bristol to Land's End

It seemed like a good idea at the time. A chance to raise money for a charity that means a lot to our family, I'd be really fit from the Raid Pyreneen and it would only be hills not mountains, and it was my birthday weekend. What else would I rather be doing but cycling 250 miles from Bristol to Land's End?

But at 8AM on the Friday morning, after being stood about in the damp and the mist for nearly an hour, and having already taken family to airport drop-off at 5AM, I was feeling tired, cold and apprehensive about a day in the saddle. Because of the charity involvement we had to do a bit of press don't you know, and listen to the necessary safety briefing, label bikes with numbers (I was number 4) and all that sort of stuff.

Eventually it was all over and we were able to head off from Clifton Down towards the suspension (and best) bridge (in the world). At a junction just before the bridge, I used my well-honed traffic-negotiating skills to get across the road after A, and that was pretty much it for the rest of the morning as we didn't see any other riders till they caught up with us at the water stop in Glasto. We headed out through Long Ashton, Barrow Gurney, Winford, Chew Stoke, Harptree Hill and Old Wells Road, before hitting the levels in Wells.

It was bit drizzly, with a northerly wind, which was behind us until we turned west at Glasto and headed for Taunton. A and I took turns to shield each other from the cross wind and we made such good time that we arrived at the pub for lunch 40 minutes ahead of the schedule.

For many of the 36 participants this was their first big ride, and the field spread out over a long distance. In fact, after just 50 miles the last riders were nearly an hour behind us, on what had been a fairly gentle introduction. The afternoon was a bit tougher, as we slowly headed up a few long drags before hitting some proper hills out of Wiveliscombe (W). I tried to keep up with a couple of youngsters, but they dropped me, before they stopped for some faff and I overtook them. Although I found the long hill out of W, they soon caught me again.

A series of tough undulations followed, averaging 10-15%, on narrow country lanes with sharp bends and lots of gravel. On one I was convinced I would be hitting the hedge on a 120-degree turn, but just scraped round, on the grass verge.

By now I was on my own, following the 2 lads ahead of me, until I overtook them at the 2nd water stop in Dulverton. After filling my bottle with the real thing, full-fat version, it was up onto Exmoor proper via a brutal 20% hill. Once along the top of the ridge I got caught again and the views across the country were stunning. Fortunately our route had been marked out with orange marker arrows, one of which I saw at the last minute, half-way down a very steep descent.

With a couple of small hills to go, it was more or less downhill to Barnstaple, where I managed to get lost before finding the hotel. The ay had been a good one, with about 6000 feet of climbing and 106 miles of riding, which I did in 24 seconds over 7 hours. The disappointing thing had been that I rode over 55 miles on my own, so I resolved to do something about that the next day.

I did the Arudy bed trick at the hotel, although as we stayed in identical rooms each night, MY roomie did get the better bed the next night. Food and comfort were both good, and I managed to be all tucked up in bed by 10.30. Some of the others got swept up by thebroom waggon, and other trailed in nearly 3 hours after me, so I guess they had a tough day. Credit in particular to the couple on the tandem, who made it in reasonable time.

Saturday morning dawned clear and crisp, and promised a beautiful day's riding down to Cornwall. Unfortunately my bike had a mechanical. Overnight the chain and front mech must have been caught in the van where the support crew stored them as one link was deformed and the mech had slipped down. In the absence of spares we decided to take a link out of the chain and keep the fingers crossed. Although my indexing was thrown off a bit I still had most of the gears, but I rode fairly conservatively for the next couple of days-just in case.

The biggest impact was that I left on Saturday morning about 15 minutes after everyone else. So it was catch-up time, and I spent the next couple of hours till Hatherleigh overtaking some of the others. Worryingly some were already pushing up the hills, where the gradients were around 8-10%, which didn't bode well.

I was now on territory from my LEJOG route of last year, as I passed through Okehampton and out towards west Dartmoor. Too literally as I took a wrong turn and ended up on a bridal path halfway to Yes Tor. I re-traced my steps and made it onto the granite way-a cycle path that Bunny and I had rejected because it was unsuitable for road bikes. Some of it still is, and I ended up walking for about a km to avoid puncturing. Others risked it I found out later, and paid the price.

Once at Lydford gorge, and lunch, I managed to hook up with my roomie and a few others for a very mixed afternoon. Good in that I now had some great company, encouragement, banter and humour. Tough in that the terrain was now Cornish. It all came flooding back-there are no flat bits of land anywhere in Cornwall at all. I'd looked at the average gradient for the route on a mile by mile basis. Well, a half mile 15% descent down a gravelly hill was followed by the same in the opposite, ie up, direction.

This went on all the way to the outskirts of Bodmin Moor, where we went up a 3-mile 10% hill-very tough. The corresponding descent was great too, and the day finished with a few more dragons teeth, one of which was about 300 yards and maxed out at 27% on Charlie. Riding the Tourmalet was no training for that. The day was slightly shorter at 92 miles, but the speed was a lot slower at only 12.7mph, partly down to the hills and the walking through the mud! I would reassure you that I cycled up every hill without stopping, just in case you were worried. There was more climbing too, about 7000 feet of it.

That said I finished reasonably strongly when some of the others faded a bit, and I think that is just down to better endurance and eating on the bike. Ironic eh? Others in the group fared even less well and a lot of the party of 36 either ended their day in the van, or skipped whole sections of the route. I think the planners are MTB boys and besides not fully appreciating that Road bikes don't like mud and grit, didn't fully explain to everyone just how tough the route would be for novices, and quite frankly there wasn't enough daylight for them.

Another good night (and West Ham had beaten Spurs too, so it was turning into a belter of a weekend) and the final day was again nice and sunny. The five of us who had ridden together n Saturday afternoon agreed to do the same on the last leg-55 miles down to Land's End. But by the time we had descended through St Austell, two of them had got lost and the other had a puncture. I rode with A and N for a while before they both zoomed off ahead of me.

So it was back to solo riding over a fairly undulating course in the early Sunday morning. The roads were still pretty empty as I headed through Probus and Truro, before heading out onto more country lanes. I was feeling a bit queasy, so wasn't really motoring, but after the water stop near Four Lanes, I joined up with N and V (two of yesterday's group) and we motored along pretty well, across terrain Bunny would recognise and down into Penzance.

Being Sunday morning I had to have an argument with a motorist who pulled out in front of me as i was descending at 30 mph (within the limit I may add), and had to overtake her to avoid hitting her. It was my fault apparently because cyclists shouldn't go that fast.

It was soon forgotten as we took in Mount's Bay and St Michael's Mount, and began to sniff the end of the road. I had been out-climbing the other two and they caught me up on the descents, but once i took a gel in Penzance, I was off up the last climb of the trip, and with nothing to hold back for I put the hammer down. The adrenaline was coursing though me, and i thought of the reason I was ding this trip. Next time anyone ever complains about suffering in relation to cycling I would remember what real human suffering is.

So it was these feelings that drove me down through Sennen and across a specially constructed "finish line" cheered home by the organisers. I was a bit emotional, and took a few minutes to compose myself, before joining the two who got there before me, and welcoming all the rest in. I did the 56 miles in an average speed of 15 mph, which was OK, helped no doubt by the lack of major climbing.

It had been a great trip, some wonderful people, and between us we raised about 20K, so A BIG THANKS TO ALL WHO SUPPORTED ME BY SPONSORING ME.

I think now it's time for a bit of a rest. I have done nearly 1000 miles this month, at a daily average of nearly 1500 calories per day (that's all 30 days too). I am worn out and will be doing light riding only, with a few hills, for the next few months. It's too early to think about 2011, so if you have any ideas, keep them to yourself for now!