When Mrs I suggested we go to Cornwall for a few days, my first thought was that this would mean missing the SCCU 25. My next thought was to see if there was a ride I could do while we were away. And so it was that I signed myself up to this 160km, 3,200m of climbing festival of pain. It being April, I had expected a nice early-season pipe-opener. Within ten minutes of leaving the start at Bodmin - to head up onto Bodmin Moor of course - the only pipes being opened were those gasping for oxygen. By the first check-point (after less than 20 miles, but a welcome rest all the same) I was calling Mrs I to tell her that my estimated arrival time at the finish was way too optimistic and I had no idea how long this was going to take. My average speed was around 20% lower than I would expect on a sportive of this length and I knew the hills had barely started.
Across the moor, I tried to find some shelter in small groups, but the field had already been split by the early climbs. There was nowhere to hide. The mist cleared as we headed down into Bude (where it's always sunny) and the second feed-station. The road south from Bude was a spectacular roller-coaster. On my left I passed a side-road, Atlantic Close; I glanced over the cliff to my right to see that it was indeed. And then the tough bit started. Few of the hills had their gradients sign-posted, but my OS map told me that there were at least five over 25%; the route guide claimed a 33% gradient as well, but that could have been on any one of half a dozen. There were no target times to chase here, just getting round was going to be an achievement.
At the final check-point at Wadebridge I sent a text with my eta back at Bodmin. Even this proved to be hopelessly optimistic, based as it was on the assumption that we might be given some respite in the last 20 miles.
I can't claim to be an expert in these things, but I have no hesitation in saying that this was the toughest sportive I have done. There was no prospect of working in a group, and it would have been pointless anyway, since there were no flat, or even rolling, sections. Riders were just left scattered throughout the course.
But it was also one of the best rides I have done. Almost entirely on narrow country roads, virtually devoid of motorised traffic, it was well signposted and, where necessary, marshalled. The locals (or were they tourists?) were hugely encouraging. At Boscastle an entire pub garden seemed to be cheering every rider through the village, and there were even genuine words of support from the few motorists trying to share the narrow lanes.
And, best of all, there was a free pasty at the end! I use the word 'free' loosely here, since it would have been a lot easier just to buy one from Mrs Muggins' Pie Shoppe. Still, here I am with mine. And Chloe made me a daisy chain medal as well. She started at the time I said I'd finish, and just look how long it had got by the time I made it back to HQ!
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