I'm getting blown away

Do I have a downer on weather forecasters? Well, today the BBC online weather forecast was, unfortunately, spot on. Right. Correctamundo. Very, very uncool honey bunny. So fairly dry, a heavy rain shower at 4AM, leaving the roads quite wet for an early morning start. Followed by a strong south-south-westerly winds, strengthening like a hurricane, with very strong gusts just when I'm cycling through a wood. Before a lovely sunny evening with the winds easing down quietly as I stare from the sofa out to our garden.

Today was the Black Rat cycle challenge, the first of those sportives I mentioned on Friday. And not an original part of my cycling itinerary for 2011. It's a long story so plump up your cushions and prepared to be entertained. Last year I did the 100 mile sportive which consists of riding in a figure of eight (itself highly dubious) and incorporates any hill of consequence in North Somerset and the Mendips. East Harptree, the Gorge, Old Bristol Hill out of Wells, Burrington, Wrington (the hard way) and a few around Portishead and Failand for good measure.

They did give out a nice souvenir glass tankard, embossed with the Black Rat logo. It is a cider in case you didn't know. My son commandeered said tankard and was not chuffed when I broke it about two months ago. On a whim I e-mailed the organiser and asked if he had any left, and he kindly drove from Clevedon to my house to deliver two replacements. So I felt I ought to enter his sportive because at the time it was struggling to fill up.

Anyway, a ride is a ride as Not the Nine o'clock news nearly said, so I thought give it a go anyway. I entered the 100 mile again, which now had the added spice of Ebbor gorge instead of Old Bristol Road, making it even harder. And, here's the clever bit, I thought it was only about 8 miles to Backwell so decided to ride there and back. Bet you wish that I was smart like you? It's 12.5 miles. 25 mile round trip.

I also had a new top on though, and a new gilet, which did add a frisson of excitement. I was not feeling very energised by the whole idea of the sportive, tbh, and the new Northwave top did help alleviate that. Mrs Mendip Rouleur thought it looked like all my other kit. "It's just red white and black, like the rest".

 "No, no, no, no" as Thatcher or Paisley may have said, (actually the latter would have said [imagine accent] "never, never, never"), I told her straight. All my other tops are predominantly red, with a little bit of black and white, this one is black, with a little bit of white and red". Honestly, no sense of fashion. The gilet is black too in case you were wondering.

With the wind at my back, I mad good time to the HQ, and signed on, chatting to a few people I know, including two from last year's Bristol to Land's End trip. I was supposed to be meeting four people from work, but as the first group left, there was no sign of them, and I was getting cold. I waited for the second group to go, and then thought, "they can catch me up, they're younger than me". Sorry guys, I am too impatient.

So off I went, around Nailsea and the lanes around there for a bit, up Brockley Coombe, and then down towards Felton. There was supposed to be a diversion by the roadworks, but no signs indicated anything, so there followed a shaky descent on a road scraped of half of its tarmac. A couple of people got punctures, but I was lucky, and was glad of the nice smooth tarmac down into the Chew Valley.

Once we turned into the wind at Chew Magna, it was like going backwards, and I was actually pleased to get the chance to go up East Harptree hill, even though it is a toughie. I was also getting deja vu from last year. Because of the rapid frequency of the hills, no big groups were forming. It was interesting to overtake a lot of people on climbs, often the same ones who  had bombed past me on the flat. I think I am finding the up stuff a lot easier than 12 months ago.

That said, there were still loads of young types, with sinewy frames, and even more sinewy bodies, and I tried to hop on their wheels whenever I could.  Some of them are a bit crazy, or not local, or both. A couple overtook me near the funny roundabout at the bottom of Shipham Hill, you know the one where there are always accidents because no-one understands priorities.

Most of the time I was on my own though, and quite frankly I was getting bored. Bored with cycling on the same roads, bored with having no-one to listen to, bored with having no-one listen to my inane ramblings, and most of all, VERY, VERY, VERY, VERY, BORED WITH THE WIND.

By the time I reached the split point for the two routes, at the top of Cheddar gorge, I realised what lay ahead of me. I had done 47 miles at this point, 12 of them to get to the HQ. I had another 78 to do if I was doing the long route. And I quite fancied watching some of the Giro on Eurosport, it's shaping up as a really exciting race. Except for the fact that the Clenbuterol kid is going to win again.

So another 5 hours in the saddle, plus Ebbor gorge,  and most depressingly a few miles on the levels into what was becoming a gale-force wind. But if I did the short route....

Well, what would you do, if your mother asked you?

There were still a couple of tasty hills though. First it was down into the Chew Valley again, around Nempnett Thrubwell and up to Row of Ashes the steep way (have a look at the gradients in the link below!). Then came the two scary moments of the day. When riding in strong crosswinds cyclists often get blown across the road a bit when they pass a gate-opening in the hedge line. So I was used to this, but as I came down the A38 for half a mile to try and take the right turn for Wrington the wind was blowing me all over the place, never known anything like it. Worse than Exmoor Beast 2009.


http://ridewithgps.com/routes/428151



Over Wrington Hill (the steep one) and down into Goblin Coombe, and lots of leaves were flying off the trees in the wind. OK, not too bad. Then a few twigs. All right, just watch carefully. Then a branch. Not a big one, but still a bit unexpected.

Also a casualty of the wind were most of the signs in the last 10 miles. I just followed the crowd, except that there weren't many people about, so I made a best guess and came back in just under 100 km, about 61 miles. I spoke to the organiser later (the same man who delivered the mugs) and he said that wind had not been the only saboteur of the directions. A number of reports had come in of people ripping them down.  Probably short on direction in their life so needed the arrows.

I did the sportive in just over 4 hours, and I then had to make the 12.5 mile slog back home, into the wind, to bring me up to just over 85 miles for the day. If you look at the Garmin download you will see the contrast with the cycle in, when it had been less windy and I was taking it easy.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/87249325

I apologise unreservedly for the spaghetti-like route that I rode today. I will do better in future.

I am getting some funny cramps tonight, from deep within my upper inner thigh muscles, never had them before. Any expert opinions would be gratefully received. I think today can serve as a useful training ride, but it has left me wondering about next week and the Tour of Wessex. May have to break a cardinal rule and take my ipod. Still at least I got a free bottle of cider today, which I can drink while I watch the Giro...