GBDURO22 - Stage One.

Updated: Oct 18, 2022

Preamble

The down-time I enjoyed between stages at Checkpoints during GBDURO afforded me the rare opportunity to write some words about my experience during the event. It’s not generally in my nature to over-share but I have been somewhat overwhelmed by the support I have received and would like to offer some insight behind the numbers shown by my Strava activities. In an attempt to retain some form of brevity I have tried to concentrate on the stages themselves for now, although there is so much more I could say about my preparation and other aspects of the event. This is mostly a descriptive report, rather than reflective. I intend to follow with more considered words to this effect. I also can’t promise any pretty photos taken by me during the ride (too busy pedalling, eating and cursing the next vertical slope to trudge up) but there are plenty out there taken by others. Hope this is of some interest and feedback would be welcome on whether this is a suitable platform to share such a report, or suggestions for other means to convey my experience.

Stage One

It’s always too hot, too cold, too wet or too dry in the UK and thus it was very much on the too hot side that GBDURO22 commenced. 32°c was forecast for the afternoon of the first two days and I can’t say those are conditions I am acclimatised to. Anything much below 10°c or above 20°c and I begin to suffer, or moan at least. The journey down to Land’s End had included a sweat-box of a train carriage for the final two hours but I assured myself the breeze generated from cycling along and expected moderate headwind would help to cool things.

My hotel was ideally situated a mile from Land’s End so I rolled up at 7:30am ahead of the 8:00am depart. Sussing out the competition and their set-ups, as is customary, there was a relaxed atmosphere and I was just looking forward to getting going and settling in to the ride. The stage, at ~630km, was too long to comprehend as a whole so I set my mind on the challenges of the first section through Cornwall and Devon. My original plan was to make a first stop at Great Torrington at 200km, but with the excessive heat I had identified some further options between 100-150km should I need some additional refreshment. Regardless, for this first stint I wanted to keep moving as much as possible at my own pace, not getting dragged in to following others who would doubtlessly be going off too fast.

Soon after the roll out we were in to an on-off series of dry, sandy trails near the coastline. It started relatively cool but the clear skies heralded the promise that there would be no hiding from the intense sun later. However, the first hiccup was solely self-inflicted. It mustn’t have been longer than an hour after the start that on a section of trail one of my water bottles hit the floor. Turning back to retrieve it I noted that the bottle cage was still attached, indicating that the bolts had come loose. Despite checking the torque of almost every other bolt on the bike before departure I had neglected this so extracted my multi-tool as calmly as possible to reattach, trying not to panic about all those seconds I would be losing on the competition. I even had the good sense to check and tighten the other bottle cage which was good thinking as these were slightly loose too. Back on the move and a series of short sharp climbs on mostly narrow lanes seemed to characterise much of the first morning and afternoon. Conscious to conserve energy I endeavoured to use my full range of gears and ease my way up each one without excess strain. There was always another rider nearby and at the first Spar on the route before 100km there must have been at least 5 bikes outside with their riders in search of relief from the oppressive heat.

In to the early afternoon and the heat became difficult to manage. I was rationing my water sensibly, but the warm water from the bidons wasn’t proving particularly refreshing and I resolved to make a quick stop at a village store around 130km at 2:30pm. First ice cream (Magnum mint) down and a can of cloudy lemonade backed off I began to feel nauseous almost immediately on the bike. At first I thought I may have drunk the fizzy drink too fast but the feeling lasted for the next couple of hours and I struggled with eating solid food. I tried to keep sipping on the other sugary drink I had bought as all I craved was something cold and refreshing. Speaking to others afterwards it seems this feeling of nausea was common and possibly a sign of mild heat stroke.

Great Torrington and the planned stop at the M&S garage (classy as always) arrived at around 6:30pm. 3 or 4 others had the same idea, all complaining about the heat. I felt a lot better after polishing off a fruit salad with a Bircher muesli and chocolate mousse (raiding the reduced section) and stuck a wrap in my back pocket for when I felt like something savoury and solid later in the evening. The temperature had started to cool off so things became much more manageable as the sun began its welcome descent towards the horizon. The South West beyond the Mendips was new territory to me so heading in to the darkness I had no real references for positioning myself from road signs or other landmarks. My next objective though was a 24 hour garage in Bridgewater at 320km. En-route the hills remained steep, viciously so in places, and now more extended in length. Around this time, I caught up with Molly on the road and we seemed to spend the next day to-ing and fro-ing, never far apart but only briefly passing one another with a brief exchange of words. A couple of frustratingly bumpy and slow off-road sections made going sluggish as times with one gentle rise leading to the summit of Dunkery Beacon. I was aware the descent was described as one for an MTB so clung on tight as I tentatively made my was down whilst being bashed about by the loose stony surface. Relief came as the trail turned to road but with easier surfaces and a gentle valley descent came the onset of a growing sleepiness. I passed a settlement called Roadwater and convinced myself that the suffix ‘-water’ meant I must be close to Bridgewater so resolved to at least push on to there and make a call about sleeping afterwards. I was in fact somewhat further away than I suspected and rolled up to the garage at Bridgewater at around 2:45am.

There was a sign at the night pay window pronouncing ‘back in 10 mins’. Cursing this idle time, I lurked around for a minute and tapped on the window which seemed to grab the attention of the shopworker inside. As I couldn’t get inside the shop I had to list out my requirements - one of which was a 2 pint bottle of milk. I used 3/4 of this to fill the bottle I kept in my food pouch and added 3 sachets of instant coffee, which I always carry for such circumstances. This would serve as a pick-me-up during the early hours. After my initial order and whilst performing the usual eating/packing/faffing multi-tasking I realised I forgot to purchase an ‘emergency’ Snickers bar and Kit Kat Chunky (peanut butter, clearly). The shopkeeper seemed somewhat frustrated at my request for repeat trade, huffing ‘are you sure that’s all this time’ to my bemusement.

I was now in the Somerset Plains making smooth progress across fields and through villages. The temperature variations from place to place were notable during the night - across the high ground the heat was retained but in valleys close to water and on the open plains there was a slight chill. After an hour or so of cruising I felt that a short nap would serve me well. To avoid having to faff over donning an additional layer I chose the warmer location of a bench in a village where I propped my bike up and set my alarm. As it was 4:02am, I went for a nice round number to re-awake - 4:25am. This was to be the only time during the stage my phone came out of my pocket and it stayed on airplane mode throughout. I don’t think I totally drifted off during these 23 mins but when the alarm resonated I had no problem rising and remounting my steed with little fuss. I took a first swig on the milky coffee concoction and took optimism from the signs of emerging light. The new day soon arrived and I was alert to the task.

Beyond the plains lay the Mendips. I can’t say I particularly enjoyed this section. The climbs were largely hike-a-bike territory and the descents bone-shaking. Huw appeared behind me on the approach to one of these hills and I marvelled as he gracefully danced his way up a slope I couldn’t comprehend riding up. I was rather under-geared in the circumstances (40-42 max) so Huw’s dinner plate for a cassette certainly helped but I also appreciated that my off-road skills were not comparable to some of the competition. Bristol next at 400km and even at 8am the heat was starting to rise. Clifton Downs was full of people running and riding bicycles, sensibly getting their Sunday exercise in before the heat of the day. Only a fool would actually choose to participate in endurance sport during an Amber weather warming. For two days consecutively. On 23 minutes sleep. Severn Bridge crossed and I was ‘Croeso-ed’ to Cymru. Another garage in Chepstow was the next quick stop for a breakfast of yoghurt granola pots and a surprisingly good packaged croissant for my pocket.

The first hill in Wales immediately heralded what was in prospect for the remainder of much of the route - a hike up a staircase, stressing my not particularly bulky upper body. Thankfully the descent to Usk was a belter and the valley road afforded the sense of making reasonable progress once more. I passed Molly again, emerging from a shop in Usk, and on commencing the ascent towards the Brecon Beacons I could see I was catching Huw as the gradient ramped up to silly percentages. Due to my heavy gearing, I had no option than to push harder in relation just to keep moving so found myself passing Huw on this road climb. The road then became a track, with the percentages barely relenting and I was having to dig in to keep forward progress. A Dotwatcher was positioned on one of the switchbacks taking photos and I had the brief feeling of bossing it as I led the other two whilst mildly melting and grimacing. Once the respite of the summit arrived I passed through an extended built-up area which would be the final guaranteed re-supply option before entering the Brecon Beacons and the ‘Desert of Wales’ beyond. I called in at a Costcutter at Brynmawr which struck me as being a comically stereotypical Welsh Valleys setting. Someone was blasting Kenny G saxophone music from a car and the accents were straight out of Gavin & Stacey. Nourishment was again largely of the cold and wet variety as I positioned myself in the shade for a brief respite from the heat as the sun was now reaching its highest point in the sky.

Almost immediately I was on a wide gravel track heading past a quarry which turned in to a barely discernible track across a field with an impossibly steep descent towards a reservoir which I just about made out after a serious of wrong turns and double-backs. Beyond the reservoir the route diverted from a reasonably rideable trail to some stupidly rocky thing where there was hilariously a sign for no motor vehicles. Not necessary here. Trudging my way along for a few hundred meters I was welcomed by a river crossing where the track dropped almost vertically down and then up the other side. Traversing this obstacle was a real heave but beyond there were some sections I was able to ride, before having progress halted by a ditch or collection of large rocks. This only lasted 2-3km but the summit, or gap, between two peaks, was visible ahead and seemed to take an age to arrive as I gently cooked in the direct sun. The map on my GPS denoted that this was indeed The Gap, a pass I had heard was another popular MTB destination. The descent in particular illustrated why. The surface became even rougher and I contemplated how anyone could consider riding this without full suspension and body protection. I tip-toed my way down with a grace resembling Bambi on Ice, frustrated at making such slow progress on a descent. I must have stumbled around 2km until the surface became suitable for me to feel comfortable re-mounting. The welcome return to the road led to a pub at Libanus and I used this opportunity to re-fill my water bottles, neck two bottles of orange juice and eat a bowl of ice cream quickly - biting in as a conscious attempt to give myself a bit of refreshing brain-freeze.

An hour or two after this point, following a simpler off-road climb and descent I looked down to my bottle cages and to my horror noticed my larger 1 litre bottle missing. I still had over 100km to go and the ~1.5 litres I had remaining would surely not suffice. I considered turning back to look for it but I had no idea when the bottle had fallen out and there was still no guarantee I would spot it (I still wonder whether I made the correct decision here and whether my decision was overly influenced by the imperative for constant forward progress). I therefore rolled on, eyes peeled for any opportunity to find a new bottle to replace at least some of the capacity. There was a campsite soon in view so I enquired at the reception if they sold water in bottles. ‘No’ was the response but I could use their taps to fill up so I duly did so and drunk as much as I could stomach there and then. It was early evening and I considered that the fluids I now had should suffice for the remainder, perhaps filling up one final time at a pub Llanwrtyd Wells as I calculated the shop there would be closed before my arrival. My research led me to believe the only shop at this town (the smallest in the country apparently) closed at 7:30pm and I ended up arriving 10mins after this with the plan to swing by a pub, back off a drink (non-alcoholic) from the bar and fill up the bidons. However, I was greeted by a welcome surprise in the middle of this settlement - a Premier Stores open until 10pm apparently not listed on Google Maps. This allowed me one final opportunity to purchase an ice cream and fluids for the final 70km.

Photo: @anthonypease_photography

A short bash down the A483 later and I entered what has been donned the ‘endless forest’. These forestry trails comprised sandy and relatively smooth surfaces with less brutal gradients, winding their way through the plantations. Emerging from the first major summit I was greeted with a stunning view over the Llyn Brianne reservoir and dam in the fading light. I have fond, but painful memories of this area, particularly having passed via the Tregaron mountain road on the brilliant Elenydd Audax but this new perspective was wonderful. One of the race photographers, @anthonypease_photography, was positioned on the dam and the photos he captured are amazing (https://www.instagram.com/p/ChXmQYUs9Wq/). The forest road continued, somewhat endlessly until it did end, with a series of short ascents and descents until re-joining the road past the descent leading to Strada Florida. It wasn’t particularly fast going but the most challenging moments were probably having to lift my loaded bicycle over 3 or 4 locked gates. At this stage, this weightlifting effort required felt greater than pedalling up a hill. I also passed Molly on this stretch, catching glimpses for a while of her headtorch behind me on each switchback which provided an incentive to keep the forward momentum.

Photo: @anthonypease_photography

I re-attached the sleeves to my jersey, feeling the dipping temperatures and encountered the familiar road section to Ysbyty Ystwyth (which I can pronounce perfectly) – a road I seem to have ridden almost every time I come to Wales including twice already previously this year. The final ~25km stretch would require another near two hours of pedalling, gate opening and an ultimate push before the rocky descent to Daf’s Farm and CP1. I had an inkling that I was competitively placed and soon learnt that three others: Alex, Christoph and Huw had finished at various intervals during the 2.5-hour period preceding my arrival at just past 1am.

A word here for the amazingly warm, patient and diligent effort Daf would put in over the next 36 hours. From the moment the first rider showed up, Daf was present to provide hearty, healthy sustenance along with a side serving of an indefatigable positive attitude. With the sole assistance of his equally industrious wife, they likely ended their shift more exhausted than the riders!

The Numbers:

Distance: 641.66km / 398.71mi

Speed*: 11.1mph / 17.86kph

Elevation: 10,119m / 33,199ft

Power*: 123w (167w WAP)

Avg Heart Rate: 103bpm (142bpm max)

Elapsed Time: 41:00:17

Moving Time*: 36:04:32

Calories: 19,478

TSS: 1009

Sleep Time: 00:23:00

Ice Creams Consumed: not enough