Month: July 2010

These are excerpts from Aug 2009…

Mon. Taunton to Tiverton, 35 miles

After approx 13 poo’s in the morning, we thanked Phil and Jess and headed out on the final journey. Sitting on the seatt this morning was pretty bludy painful, but Brend who had no padding was just fine (strange, but I wont comment). Anyway after a couple of pills and about 6 miles pain seemed to subside somewhat and this final day was actually quite pleasant. There was some up and there was some down, but quite a lot of flat. Everyone seemed in pretty good spirits and most of the day was in sunshine through the countryside and canals.

After a good couple o three hours we arrived at Tiverton, after asking in the info place about a pub, we set off to a small village for some food – it did rain then, but I knew this was the last stage of the journey for me so was enjoying it all.

We had food in the pub, which was where I was picked up, my journey had ended – approx 155 miles, average speed of around 12.5, top speed 35. The others had some journey left – Brend cycled to Tiverton then trained back to London, Marrsy followed Brend to Taunton and cycled another 35 miles home from there.

Just have to say a big thanks to Brend and Marrsy for coming on the journey this year, it was so, so, so much easier for me this year than last, so it goes to show just how much a pair of padding shorts makes the difference (oh and the training, and new bike, and the right gear etc etc). Much appreciation to Marrsy, who again took the navigation in his stride (and didn’t take any wrong roads) and acts like the father figure when me and Brend just couldn’t manage to do anything useful and sorting out all the issues we had during the three days…

We will be doing this again next year, with a route to be decided – so get your bikes out, get used to 40 – 50 mile jaunts and join us on the cycle trip 10.

Remember kids – cycling hurts (unless you are used to it…)

These are excerpts from Aug 2009…

SUN. 75 miles Bath to Taunton

Never staying in a YMCA again.

Up at 6:00, walking round Bath at 6:45 – the place was like the first scenes of 28 days later, not a soul around. Went back for toast and tea and waited for the others to arrive. Set off on a beautiful day towards Glastonbury, we met some other cyclists and Marrsy was determined to race them – luckily for me I got another puncture so we had to let them go, me and Brend were like Laurel and Hardy again, absolutely useless at everything, so we sat on the verge and had a little drink and bite to eat whilst we watched Marrsy swear at my wheel.

45 mins later another puncture – this time for Marrsy, we had run out of inner tubes (as I hadn’t brought any and Marrsy only had two), so he had to use an old one which was patched, again me and Brendan clowned around unable to do the simplest things, so sat down and watched Marrsy sort out his puncture – this had made us about 45 mins behind schedule… After pausing slightly for Brend to pull up his shorts we were off again..

Next area of cycling goodness was the “Mendips”. These are “some hills”, that we had to cross, well – they may be hills but yet the approach we made was long, long and steep. Marrsy led the way as always, me behind and Brendan keeping it real at the back, well we hit this hill and we saw from the amusement of the cyclists coming the other way it was going to be hard.

After about 7 hrs of climbing I heard some grunting coming from behind me, it was Brend – he was struggling Yeah, Yippee, WooHoo – obviously instead of giving encouragement I just told myself I don’t have to pretend its easy for much longer, he is going to fail!!!  I kept on Marrsys wheel, my legs were burning, my knees where killing, I could hardly breath – but I wasn’t going to give up, no way – Brendan’s shouts of anguish were sweeter than honey, he’s going to stop – he is going to stop YES! he stopped. Brendan’s will had been broken, I had won – just got to make it to the top now, I did it!!!!.. However, once Brend put his feet down I heard a very quick and regular tap tap of his feet against the tarmac – he was pushing, but moving up the hill quicker than i could cycle – disaster, to be overtaken by a WALKER!!!!! SO with the last remaining energy I pushed for the top, and beat him by about 2.3 seconds. AT the top Marrsy changed the tyre again – my and Brend relaxed in the sunshine.

We got to Glastonbury around lunch time, and a decision had to me made, Yeovil or Taunton, after some debate we decided that although 35 miles away the trip to Taunton was flatter and Phil had agreed we could stay at his house so once Brend got his shorts in order off we went.

For me, this is where it got painful – I got brufen, had a few, but both my knees and derrière were pretty sore now, but the trip was pretty flat along the canal path, and we made pretty good time.

We arrived at Phils around 18:30, after a quick shower we headed out for a beer and a ruby murry. When we got back Phil showed us to our luxurious quarters for the night, well when I say luxurious what i really mean is shithole, unfortunately for us Phil was midway into decorating, the midway point being strip everything away and make it smell like plaster and death, he had kindly put two matteresses and two duvets down – obviously forgetting key stage one maths where 2 into 3 dont go (unless you like close male company of course) – we compromised and I slept on the floor leaving the other two to comfortable feather stuffed heaven sent mattresses (I didn’t mind…. ;o()

These are excerpts from Aug 2009…

well we successfully completed the annual cycle trip (TM) last Monday, this year’s entrants were Mr Marr, me and the newcomer Brendan “the power” Thomas.

Started this year on a Saturday, and Brendan came on down from London to my house on the Friday afternoon – he had successfully navigated the 3 miles from the train station to my house, and after a couple of pints showed me just how well he can tuck away nosh. Fully fuelled we slept and dreamt of the journey to come.

SAT. 50 miles, Magor to Bath

Got up and at  around 8:00, sorted out all the items i had not bothered to take last year, like cycle muscles, padded pants, padded shorts, padded gloves, decent jacket, tools, puncture repair stuff etc – looked out the window, it was grey – the horrors of last year came flooding back..

We were expecting to meet Marrsy at Chepstow as he had ridden to Bristol the night before and insisted he wanted to go from Bristol to Chepstow to enable him to cycle straight back to Bristol after looking at “the view” from the Bridge. So at 9:15, after ensuring Brendan’s trousers were sufficiently pulled up we left the safety of Magor and started our journey. First parts are always easy, and this was no different, 18 miles an hour trying to beat the rain to Chepstow, we slowed at Caldicot and Brendan was looking a little worried – “you’re not going to keep this speed up are you” he enquired, 50 yards and the first hill of the day answered that question!!.

As we strained up Chepstow hill the rain started.

We got to the Bridge and somehow had passed Marrsy so we waited on the Bridge. The exposed Bridge. The exposed cold Bridge. The exposed cold, wet Bridge. Then he came, it was like looking at a mirror image, he had copied my 09 cycling look, same bike, same jacket, same defined calves (well perhaps not) – with out stopping he whisked passed us yelling the rain is coming – we had noticed.

With the rain torrential, we paused for refreshments under some trees – it rained, hard.

Eventually we made it to Bristol, where we found a nice pub next to the canal and ordered food, and a pint – this was about 14:00. Pint finished and another started we waited for food – this was about 14:30. Pint finished and getting cold now we waited for food – this was about 15:00. Eventually after Marrsy went and spoke to them in the pub and eventually we had our food and set off again after losing about 2 hours.

We cycled through Bristol where there was a big event on – people everywhere, Marrsy led the way and managed to get his tyre stuck in the railway tracks a number of times much to the amusement of the 10,0000,00 people who were watching, then we emerged onto the main square. Now at this point Marrsy decided to cause an accident – my accident. We were only moving at .5 miles an hour, but as I went to stop myself from falling my magical laces had managed to attach themselves to my front wheel, so not having a spare leg  to balance I fell over, fell over like an overweight tortoise, i managed to twist slightly and land on my knapsack unable to move i waggled my legs until some old lady helped me up.

Anyway 20 miles to Bath, high speed touring across the path until we got to Bath and I got a puncture, as always our navigated and chief bike mechanic fixed us all good and proper – Brendan managed to attract the admiring glances of an old codger on a bike, and after Brendan managed to persuade him he wasn’t interested in listening to some Jazz records, and just pausing for Brend to pull up his shorts we got to the YMCA.

As Phil didn’t bother coming I had a twin room to myself, well i did share it with two bikes, but non the less after a quick shower we went to paint the Bath town red. We had a pizza, one beer and were home at 10.

The night was awful, kids and grown men and women banging doors and screaming at each other.

These are excerpts from Aug 2008…

SUN.

So to the final 40 mile push, woke up – it was raining – bastard. I then found I had a flat – double bastard. Marrsy fixed it – he’s a dream isn’t he!!!…

Both knees and rear end very very hurty this morning – you get on that seat and its agony immediately, and you know you’ve got hours on this yet to go. Anyway decided to go down to pendine as that was a flatter route, except for the hill coming out of pendine, although you see that flat is a relative term, after two days of this shit gently undulating is like a maintain trail, anyway with the wind and rain in our faces we cycled to Pendine. Then I saw the hill, well its not really a hill is it? I managed to cycle about 20 meters up it, then had to walk, which in itself was a feat – it was ENORMOUS, massive, gigantic even the cars were struggling – I barely had the energy to push the bike up, marrsy was met at the top – looking at me with distain and looking as fresh as a daisy. So onward though the rain to Wisemans bridge. Had a quick stop here where Marrsy had a little capacino and I had CPR, through the tunnel to saundesfoot where a miracle happened – it was kind of sunny (the miracle didn’t cure my hurtyness tho). So from saundesfoot, up the worlds second largest hill to Tenby, though tenby to penally where we got slightly off track, but marrsy knew the route – he had deliberately taken me to see the “Worlds steepest Hill” (TM), and he informed my it was our pleasure to ride up it, i went up a little way then stopped and tried to breath, after a couple of minutes my lungs had acclimatised and I managed to continue upward, I met marrsy at the top where I overheard him speaking to his mother on the mobile (…yeah so he’s such a bludy wimp, and the slowest cyclist I have ever seen, so anyway I wont be back for lunch and at this rate I’m not sure I’ll make breakfast tomorrow…)

Over the ridgeweay to Pembroke/Pembroke dock/neyland and back though the new trail to johnston. A couple of mile later we split at under the hills and i took my final hill in one go to get to the top of Pembroke road and to the safety of a beer and my mothers.

All in all we were “active” for about 24 hrs, did around 170 miles and I think (marrsy can confirm) only achieved around a 10 mile per hour pace. For me it was the hardest thing I have ever done, both my knees hurt, the fronts of my feet, my shoulders and ofcourse the rear end.. Next time I would like four days, but at the very least it would be from west to east, heading into the wind for two days is no joke I can tell you…

Remember kids, cycling 15 miles a day does not get you ready for 40+ miles in the saddle – Cycling Hurts!

These are excerpts from Aug 2008…

SAT.

Glorious Saturday, another 60 – 70 miles in the height of Summer, what could be better. Woke up – it was pissing down, absolutely, totally, completely pissing down – and just slightly windy!!. We got our bikes out of the hotel at 09:00, by 09:01 we were soaked to the skin from the waist down, by 09:02 I realised that being in pain sitting on the bed was nothing compared to the agony of sitting on the razor seat on my bike, by 09:03 I realised that my knee pain was not imaginary and after the first revolution of my pedal I knew this was going to be a hard day…

I had to get brufen, and I figured a crepe bandage thing would be in order, closest shopping point – the quadrant, just over the bridge, well just over the bridge and 11 miles away in the driving wind and rain. I took to repeatedly banging my head on my brake lever to take my mind off the pain in my knee. As we motored on down the road into Swansea lorries were splashing us with massive waves of water, we didn’t even notice it was raining so hard. So pilled and strapped up we continued to the promenade. Now, on a summer morning this is a fabulous place to be, pretty flat with a great view over the sea – however when the wind is howling and the rain the pouring it is the biggest shithole in the known world. Lucky for me, and I’ll take this opportunity to thank him again, Mr Marr took the lead and I attempted to slip steam. This was a help, but as the wind was coming across us, not perfect, and added to the fact he cycles twice as fast as me it was still a struggle. We found the route and ascended up from Swansea to Gowerton and across to Llanelli.

We got to Burry port and I had a puncture – Marrsy the genius sorted it (after a trip to a very convenient cycle shop) and we were on our way.

Once here we took the path through the wildlife areas, and the “roadway” was actually made up of mostly sand, which of course was soaking, we were by the sea and had the pleasure of the sea breeze and bludy pouring rain – did I tell you it was wet? This was almost the hardest point of all, cycling against the wind, though this sand soaking and hurting was awful – as was seeing Marrsy pulling away like a man possessed in front. I hurt – a lot.

Got to Pembry, the road got better (slightly), but it was even hard work cycling slightly downhill, the weather was worse, at times you could barely see in front of you. We stopped in Kidwelly for a snack – then on to ferryside.

We got to ferryside and it was literally like being in a waterfall, we made a decision, we needed alternative transport….

We got to the train crossing, and a bloke shouted from the controller box – we went to investigate, he told us stories of long tubes full of people which could ferry you over land to other places, where you could be dry and relax without too much pain and the miles passed, he made us a brew, we sat in his signal box regaling each other with tales of yore, outside it rained.

We looked at he map, and decided that due to the circumstances it would be prudent to take the train to Whitland, and travel back to Laugharne from there – this probably saved us around 10 miles in total I think, but with the state of the weather at that time, and although I wanted to do every single bit, it was a choice we had to make. So we went to Whitland and got back on the cycles – soaked, covered in sand and thoroughly hurting I got back on that devil  of a machine  and started again, up and down to laugharne. The hills around here are the biggest and longest I have ever seen, it had been a long tiring day, and I was virtually in tears as we got closer to laugharne shouting and swearing at the sodding wind as it took great pleasure in really really really really pissing me off. But we arrived.

We got there and everything I possessed was soaked, even in my bag – my money, maps, clean clothes, everything – luckily our hosts took everything in and washed and dried it, although I did have the pleasure of borrowing some of marrsys attire as we waited in the BB for the drying to complete. So out we went, in soaking shoes to get some food – we went to a “tapas” place, and I ordered every one of the meat ones, and ate them – cycling makes me hungry!!! ;o)

The following excerpts are from Aug 2008…

We’ll myself and Mr Marr completed the run from Magor to Haverfordwest last Sunday after covering around 170 miles in the three days. Marrsy had cycled from Yoevil to Magor on the Thurs which added an extra 110 miles to his trip!!!!!!

We set off from Magor Friday morning around 9:45 fully fuelled from an Indian and a couple of beers the night before, it took all of 1.5 miles for me to get my first pain, as I realised that I had never used my “new” trainers on the bike before and my sole started hurting (sign of the wimpyness to come!).

Anyway, we made it at a quick pace down to the transporter bridge in Newport, only to find that it was completely shut – so one quick detour later we were back on the Cycle Route 4. Following the route through the scariest, most run-down areas of Newport (the trail always seems to take you through the dodgy areas of the towns) we emerged into Tredegar Park under the motorway and out towards Bassleg.

This was the first time we lost the trail.

After a little map reading, and gps’ing we found the trail again and continued up the first (of 143,000,000) hills on the route. After a time Marrsy insisted I had to drink something and also forced a tracker on me (yummy – forgot how nice trackers were) – so here I was with a bike, some fingerless gloves chewing viscously on a tracker bar – did I feel like an experienced cyclist or what!!!!…

The route got a little confused, but we found our way to Ponty via Caerphilly where we had a lunch stop. As we tucked into our energy food bars and glucose drinks Marrsy looked at the map and told me the “worst” was over for the day, and it would be a single hill, then downhill all the way to Port Talbot – the lying bastard…!

I was feeling OK, we had done approx 40 miles – more than twice the distance I had ever ridden in one go before, and ready for the easy decent into Port Talbot and a couple of beers in the bar. This is where the journey took a turn for the worst.

We left Ponty, and headed South West, which on a map looks like it should be downhill, oh no, we met a hill. Well I say a hill, it was the most enormous mountain track I have ever seen. Round by me is a steep hill, and it is quite steep – but this must have been a 1:1, I started spritely enough, passing cars that were abandoned due to the steepness of the hill, continued for about 7 minutes when I passed an elderly lady who was trudging up the hill with the groceries, “Hi I said – much further to go on the hill” – to which see replied with the devils glint in her eyes – “Yes, this ones a killer!!!!”… Arrggggghhh..

I managed to get into low gear, which is so easy to pedal a two year old could get up a hill, but I was going so slowly in this that the shape of Mr Marr had disappeared into the distance. After 6 hrs I got to the first bend in the road – we must be at the summit I thought, but no, as i wobbled around the bend I saw  facsimile of the original hill in front of me – I did think about hanging myself with my cycle lock, but though I’d better leave that for the Bridgend route.

I continued for a short while, but then just had to stop, I was completely out of energy and thought I was melting. I stopped, drank a bottle of lucazade and ate two pounds of harabo’s and I was ready to continue. After another 4 hrs I joined Marrsy at “the top”. He was rested and out sunbathing on his (incredibly compact) towel. We’re here I gasped – oh no, we’re not at the top yet…

After a couple of other stupendously large hills, and numerous back tracks (one after climbing 20,000ft) we finally descended into Margam, which seemed to be from the map an easy freewheel into Port Talbot – it wasn’t.

We finally got to the hotel around 19:00 on the Friday night, I was sore and the most tired I had ever been, in fact if you had taken all of the tiredness I had ever been in my life and rolled it into one – I was more tired than that. We managed to get down for a couple of beers and some food then to bed around 10:30. I didn’t sleep much, my knee hurt quite a lot, and I really thought I would have to give up.

So, we have had a couple of cycling trips, one a year for the past two years and another one this year. I thought I would take the notes I made from them and add them to the blog –

2008 – Celtic Trail from Newport to Haverfordwest

2009 – Newport to Taunton

2010 – Bristol to Oxford