by huw williams » Mon Jul 31, 2006 11:14 am
My first mistake was targeting this event as one which I was going to try and win.
In good shape after the Pinarello, I looked at the profile ? 90 miles, hills everywhere and one monster six mile ascent up the Pass of the Cattle slap bang in the middle of it and thought,? that?s got my name all over it.?
But when I got to the start, and lined up with 500other riders who were all clearly thinking on similar lines, doubts began to set in. The competition looked serious. Very serious. ?The Scottish cycling federation has deliberately not scheduled any racing for this weekend,? said a local rider ?to allow everybody to come and ride this.?
A Commendable approach on behalf of the SCU but scary sh1t for most of us on the line appraising the dozens of pro-looking teams getting ready to hit the slopes.
I got in the first wave of 100 riders off ? the quickest riders who on the entry form had predicted a time of around 5.5 hours. Out of the tiny village of Kinlochewe it went straight uphill for 4 miles. No flat section, no warm-up, and straight up into the stars. It was a gradient similar to Box Hill in a straight line for 4 miles through a high mountain pass. We had a lead police motorcycle and car, flashing lights, commisaire out the sunroof, the whole nine yards. I could see coloured dots at the top of the mountain miles in the distance ? spectator?s cars waiting for the group to arrive and see what state the riders were in after the climb.
Fortunately it wasn?t too bad ? we were doing 18mph and my heart rate was in the 160s - but nobody attacked seriously, local riders keeping it under control at the front in respect of what they knew was to come.
Over the top there was a group of fifty odd together so half the first wave was already dropped. There was no descent, just a ten-mile flat section to the lake at Achnasheen.
A right turn there offered another long flat section which would take us to the second climb at Lochcarron about 20 miles down the road.
Along here, just 15 miles into the ride, it exploded. A couple of guys went of the front, then a couple of guys joined them, then suddenly I was on my max just trying to stay in the chasing group. We pulled it back but as soon as it came together another attack went, four guys in the same team rocketing up the road. A chasing train was organised and I jumped on the back as we made the jump to hyperspace.
I have never ridden so hard on the flat as I did for the next fifteen miles as we worked to keep the group of about 30 together and stay away from the chasing group. It was torture. I couldn?t go any harder and wasn?t fast enough to stay in the middle of it but could just about hang on to the back as it whiplashed through closed roads along the shores of Lochcarron. ?This is insane? I kept thinking, we were going harder than any circuit race I?ve ever done and were still yet to get to the proper climbs.
I was praying for the first feed station at 30 miles to stop the madness but when it came the pack just sailed through with the leaders hardly sparing a glimpse at the marshals who looked totally awestruck. I?d anticipated this might happen and had fortunately stuck two large bottles on board at the start.
The first climb came as a warm up for the eponymous main climb and was long and steep enough to fragment the group into small pockets of twos and threes. Over the top I was once again forced to join a group going relentlessly hard to chase down the strongest 20 riders who had gotten away on the climb.
I knew Bealach Na Bar was next and there was a timing checkpoint at the bottom which should bring things back together again but to their credit the marshals were mob-handed and were swiping timing chips on the fly so there was no stopping. Again I saw the food tables disappear untouched as I looked up at something, which would clearly have dwarfed the Devils Tower from the film Close Encounters.
It was huge, bigger than anything I?ve seen in this country, and half dead from 20 miles of flatland maximum speed riding, we had to ride over it. The bottom wasn?t too steep but it was a series of long straight drags, which offered clear views of what was to come. Riding a steep hill which gets progressively harder for six miles is bad enough, being made to contemplate it in advance is just cruelty. As we turned every bend we were offered the sight of the ladder of 20% hairpins, which constituted the finishing slopes miles up the mountain.
About half way up was the worst section, rough tarmac surface and seemingly not getting any closer to the top. I could see the blinking lights of the lead car entering the top hairpins and coloured dots of the leading riders strung out in ones and twos behind it. On the road I was only about a mile behind. On the clock it felt like I would take hours to get up there.
A few riders who had maintained a more realistic pace on the out run came past me on the climb and I in turn passed a few riders shelled out of the lead group so I guessed I was holding a reasonable position but it was the most gruelling of climbs.
Over the top, finally, and the descent was a riot ? huge straight sections which allowed speeds of 50mph plus, interrupted by the occasional hairpin to keep you on your toes. Tiny, in the distance on the edge of the Inner sound of the Isle of Skye, was the village of Applecross, which marked half way. All that was left around me after the devastation of Bealach Na Ba was a group of about 10 riders so we quickly got together and, again foregoing the food stop in the village, set off on what was always going to be the hardest section of the ride ? 40 miles of rolling hills around the coastal road of the Applecross peninsula.
Two things ? firstly it?s easily the most picturesque and scenic riding I?ve ever experienced anywhere in Europe. Alps, Pyranees, Dolomites, forget it. Not a patch on this area. An absolutely sensational experience, which I will never forget.
Secondly ? it was the most gruelling thing I have ever done. On this side of the mountain there was a fierce headwind all along the coast and the hills were rolling for mile after mile in a seemingly endless procession of tortuous drags. My legs were already wrecked from the speed at the start and the big climb, but there were riders in far worse condition than me. We ploughed on for mile after mile and one by one riders dropped off on the hills whittling the group to ever smaller proportions and meaning that those remaining had to work that little bit harder with each turn.
The final feed station at Sheildagh was 19 miles out where a couple of riders stopped, leaving four of us to attempt the run-in through Glen Torridon. The headwind was brutal, meaning we had to work like hell even to maintain 17mph. Only me and one other guy were strong enough to actually do any work on the front and we passed several riders shelled out of the lead group, some of whom were too tired to even hold the wheel when we came past at that very modest speed. A few did manage to hold the wheels though and swelled the group to about 10 for the final relentless 5 miles back to Kinlochewe.
My mind had completely gone through here and I was running on automatic, but the consequences of getting dropped and having to work alone in that wind were unacceptable so I had to grind it out. A last gentle descent of about 2 miles, and the knowledge that it was almost over, saw racing in its traditional form return as we tried to fight it out for the line. 28mph through the village then the sprinters went, carrying me over the line in a time of 5hrs and 24seconds.
Half an hour quicker than predicted? That?s down to how fast the first half was.
There weren?t many riders in the hall when I got in and as I sat there zombified for the next 20 minutes or so, unable to speak, eat, drink or thank God I was still alive, not many riders came in so I?m hopeful of a good result (results not posted at time of writing so watch this space).
Overall then consummately the hardest ride I?ve ever done (the fitter you get the harder you go I guess, so it never gets easier) in fact my heart rate data of amount of time in certain zones confirmed my thoughts that I?ve never gone that hard for that long in either races or sportives before.
My body confirmed as much later ? everything hurt not just tired limbs but actual physical pain in the arms, hips knees and ankles. The stairs to the restaurant for dinner were almost unscaleable and I felt sick with the effort to get up them.
It was awful. It was amazing. It was all those things and more. If your goal is to experience the wide variety of challenges that cycling can offer you - I'd reccomend you do this ride next year. It's going to become legendary.