The View From Here - a blog

+Greg_Kabulski try the Hemel one. It's easy to get to by train and the actual event is defunct. The Chinnor climb and descent through Wendover Woods are fab. The valley near Bledlow Ridge is special. Rest stop at the Hell Fire Caves in West Wycombe.

https://ridewithgps.com/routes/31345389

28/02/2024 – Welcome to hell

In 1993, when Manchester United played the away leg of their Champions League fixture with Turkish champions Galatasaray, they were greeted both at Istanbul airport and the Ali Sami Yen stadium with signs proclaiming “Welcome to Hell.” Hell it was. The Red Devils couldn’t assert themselves in the heated atmosphere, Eric Cantona was sent off and they lost the tie.

Cantona has the proverbial "early bath" in Istanbul

I found my own special place in hell – as Eddie Izzard would put it – at the Hell of the Ashdown sportive. This event has eluded me over the years, so I thought I’d check out HOTA, as it is known, and see what kind of a welcome it held.

Feeling welcome

As it turns out, it was a great welcome. Warm in fact. The turnout was impressive – something like 1,200 – who enjoyed a really well run event. HOTA started life as an inter club reliability ride and has developed into a seriously good challenge ride – 62 miles and 6,000 ft of elevation gain. Close to the golden ratio of 1,000 ft per 10 miles.

When the HQ is a craft beer brewery in Westerley, you are certainly incentivised to get round the course. And you need every incentive. When I set off it was barely 1C and didn’t rise above 5C. It was foggy for the first 2 hrs, which lent an extra sense of mystery and menace to the forest. The route starts as it means to go on, hitting Toys Hill before you reach the 2-mile point. Ouch.

The sun did poke through eventually, but only a little

The climbs keep coming. We are provided with an ominous top tube sticker that flags the main ones, plus the two feed stops. These are very well appointed. The first is at a rustic forest recreation area and the second a village had. The sausage rolls and cake kept me going. Real food always helps my tummy. I can take only so many gels and energy bars before another kind of hell hits down below.

Woodpiles and piles of snacks at the first rest stop

I’ve been coming back from a period of illness and bereavement, so I am a long way from race fit. My plan is to ride this like a training ride and build up my endurance before looking to kicking out a bit more. Maybe I’ll do that in a few weeks, but not yet. To emphasise the point, it feels like everyone else riding is incredibly strong. I do have to consciously work to forget about being constantly passed and just ride my pace. I must have been passed by 1,000 of those riding on the climbs. I believe I overtook just one rider on a black Sonder gravel bike.

Speaking of bikes, despite the rough and filthy nature of the roads, the vast majority of riders are on their Sunday best summer bikes. Very few winter trainers or mudguards are in evidence. There a healthy smattering of gravel bikes doing service. They all went passed me. There was group of four Kent Velo Girls in pink stripy kit riding in a tight group f four that seemed to be going my pace. I rode with or near them a few times, but not long. I was pretty much on my own most of the time.

The Kent Velo Girls at one of the two fords on the course

All the climbs, long or short, are steep. The steepest grade is 11%, but most seem to be 6-11% and they keep coming. It really is a great test of resilience. You are rewarded for or resilience with a splendid welcome at the HQ. Your given one of the locally brewed beers and rather excellent-looking burgers and fries are available. There’s a few stall with bikes kits and other cycling paraphernalia that adds some more interest.

I had driven down with +RichardM, who borrowed my driving gloves. He cunningly left his on the roof of the car. Anyway, he’s ridden a blinder, just over 4hrs and had come 140th overall, 24th in his age group. I am actually impressed. He’s had a long wait for me and looks half frozen, as I am 1hr 39mins slower than both him and my gloves. Even my gloves were faster than me, I reflect, but I’m not bothered by that. It was a thoroughly entertaining day out, well worth the effort to get out there, if you fancy it next year.

Nice blog, +Shannonball. I have just about warmed up.

As for the gloves, if only there was a category for riders wearing tweed...

24/04/2024 - Anniversary present

ICC had created a pot of money to spend on members to celebrate our 10th anniversary. One of the things chosen to support with our cash surplus was a subsidised weekend away in the New Forest. With an entire youth hostel booked, more than 70 of us rolled up to the Burley YHA with the prospect of two days of, arguably, the best gravel tracks in the south and/or some very pretty road riding through the forest and moors of this incredible beauty spot.

Some arrived early on Friday and got an extra ride in, but I couldn’t get away before 3pm and arrived around 5.45pm. Actually 6pm. It should have been 5.45, but using Google maps for directions it took me down a hideous track which turned out to be a dead end with pedestrian access only to the YHA. Hideous for cars, but after a 3-point turn, I reflected that it would be superb for a gravel bike and that tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Here's a little walk the YHA around on Friday night:
https://youtu.be/3eufcuJvBO0?si=0l7Xy7_Z¬-I9e1j8r

All the dinners and breakfasts were laid on at the hostel, but I got tempted out to the pub for a couple of beers and an exceptionally tasty venison Bolognese. I spotted a dessert menu that included sticky toffee pudding, crumble and Nutella and brioche bread and butter pudding. Somehow I evaded this triple temptation, but considered the latter would be an excellent apres ride reward…

I can resist everything but temptation, as they say

The YHA was the perfect base

Those doing a road ride set off at 9am and the gravel groups 30 mins later. I plumped for the 104km option, figuring go big day one and see what’s left on Sunday.

One of the road groups setting off on Saturday

After 3 or 4 road groups had gone off, the gravel ones clipped in and rolled out. The 104km group felt like it was about 20 or so strong. Throughout the day it ebbed and flowed and became two or three groups of varying composition. Gates seemed to bring us together. The chosen route was based on one from Bikepacking.com, but we had to ride a bit to join it. This seemed to involve a field, a bog, a river crossing, mud and more bog. So much for a gentle warm up.

Craig made light of crossing this river/creek

The weekend was marred by quite a few flats and one or two spectacular mechanicals. Richard was three hours out by himself on a long distance solo mission when his rear mech failed. Lucy had an issue with her big chain ring and made a plea for a spare 105 compatible replacement on WhatsApp.

Zac’s colourful bike – those cool blue tyres misbehaved and both front and rear flatted

Lucy’s unusual mechanical

Once we’d cleared the early soggy challenges, we reached more typical New Forest gravel paths and it was simply heaven. 100km usually leaves me a little bit battered, but I finished somewhat unbattered.

https://youtu.be/cfVPInckdpI?si=2X_JXMa0¬3-jXXt3t

I found watching Juan’s video oddly relaxing – yours truly in green with the orange bike

The rest stops were well chosen First we had lunch at the Potting Shed in Hungerford, where there was loads of space for bikes, loads of calories on offer (the sandwiches were huge) and loads of time on our butts. Almost a full hour. Oops. But the weather was so pleasant and it was lovely sitting an d chatting. Why were we here again? Oh, yeah, to ride.

I honestly could have stayed at the Potting Shed all day

We swung on and enjoyed another super session on the trails to Woods Cyclery in Lyndhurst, which is both a bike shop and café. There were mouth-watering cakes and some mouth-watering bikes and assorted cool components and accessories on offer.

We came upon a couple of serious log piles and I insisted that the group stop and get some photos as it is the law of gravel riding to have a log pile pic or two.

It is a legal requirement of all gravel rides to take a photo when you pass a log pile

I’m sure you all know there are wild horses and donkeys wondering around the forest. Many. It always amazes me each time I’m in the forest how relaxed these creatures are with humans, cars and bikes. They act and move like they couldn’t give a stuff about us. Our group did have a moment with a non-wild horse. We did everything you’re meant to, but the rider was very nervous and this alarmed the poor horse who did a small circular charge and then calmed.

Perhaps the sweetest moment of the ride for me was seeing a baby donkey lying on the grass and dozily looking up and blinking. I regret that I didn’t get a shot of it. Please post one below if you did.

The kind of picture the internet was made for - thanks to +BiancaB for this image

This was just after seeing the dozy donkey

The terrain looks innocuous here, but Davide had just got through a very technical section

Saturday night Grainne and Graham organised a quiz at the YHA and I took to opportunity, as founder, to tell a little of why and how the club was formed. Well, everyone I chatted to wanted to know, so it made sense to me. Worth repeating that welcome for all and openness to accommodating riders of every level is still strongly in evidence. Keep hold of this, my friends, it is very special.

I had a second night in my “Land Pod” and after breakfast headed out for another gravel session. This was a bit of a comedy of errors. It seemed like everyone was doing the one route I hadn’t loaded. While I fiddled around trying to load it, they headed off. Steve H held back with me and we set off – at some pace – to catch up. Somehow we never did catch them until we reached the rest stop at Buckler’s Hard. It turns out they had been going the wrong way round the route.

The route turned out to be 75% road, which initially peeved me. By the time we’d done half the ride my legs were feeling the pace of the day before and were completely happy with less gravel. I found myself back at the pub and sought out the dessert menu. Nutella and brioche bread and butter pudding – the best group of words in the English language. Well, they were that day.

I had to eat a spoonful before I took the photo – sorry

Taking a moment to capture the New Forest vibe in the run in of the last few miles on Sunday

A big thank you to the organisers - especially +Grainne - your club email says special events and this was special. Where to next?

22/05/2025 – Hidden treasures

Riding 28 miles to and from the start of a long ride might seem a bit much. I thought nothing of it at 7.30am as I headed south towards the Herne Hill Velodrome for the 67-mile Southern Grit gravel event. I thought nothing of it because I was wrestling with a bigger challenge. I’d had little sleep after hosting a 12-person dinner party with after dinner karaoke which went on to the small hours. Oops.

My set up - tool keg and burrito bag - the bike was better prepped than I was

For the record, the ride was in my calendar long before the dinner party, but sometimes there’s only one day that all your mates are free and it’s the night before a big ride. I really wanted to ride some new trails and this seemed like a great opportunity.

We were greeted at HHV with coffee and croissants and I was quickly befriended by a fellow Mason rider, Mark. We chatted about our different builds, as you do, and I found out that he was both local and knew the organiser, Charlie from Hidden Tracks. I decided to fall in with his small group, reckoning his local knowledge would be handy. I wasn’t confident my karaoked brain and body would keep pace, but Mark, Nick and Sunil were all friendly and riding at sensible speeds for me.

Mason man Mark - who is a coach at HHV

Instantly I could see why Charlie had named his company Hidden Tracks; many of the trails were hard to spot and easily missed. After 8 miles with our cheerful group, my aging prostate was nagging for release. Mark had what looked like a minor mechanical, so while he fettled, I found a handy bush. I got going, but never found this friendly group again. I assumed there were ahead of me, but I guess the mechanical was more serious that I’d thought. Oops.

A strong group of Penge riders (I couldn't keep up with) featured someone with a single-speed MTB

We came through two (maybe three) golf courses, an airfield and a racecourse. There were some challenging climbs as we headed south through the Epsom Downs. I wanted a good vista for all this effort and was finally rewarded with some truly stunning views near Margery Wood.

Yours truly somewhat elated to have a view to enjoy

Another form of elation!

On we went and I freelanced through a variety of groups to the rest stop at Redhill Cycling Club, where a full table of snacks was laid on. This included fig rolls, water melon, blocks of cheese, “prawn” soft sweets and also “brain” sweets. The brains were apparently plentiful as prawn were the preferred choice. There was a kitchen doing some paid for cooked food, but I passed this up. Probably a mistake on reflection. Bars and gels and sweets and all that can start to get indigestible. Real food is needed at some point for me.

The brains were just above the bananas

For the remainder of the ride I kept catching up with or getting overtaken by two pairs of riders. Sometimes we even rode together. One pair were on well-appointed mountain bikes. I was a little jealous on a few of the sections that were a bit, shall I say, agricultural.

Totally rideable... Not!

Aside from a few muddy moments, the return leg started off pretty flat and mellow. This all changed after 10 miles as we hit several sharp climbs over the next 10 miles. Of course we needed to get back over the North Downs. I’d been trying to block that thought out.

Inevitably my hankering for real food got the better of me. I found a small supermarket in Hamsey Green and picked up a chicken wrap and a Lucozade. It was eight hours since breakfast. Another oops. My body instantly felt a bit more appreciated and I ploughed on with another 25 miles to go - plus the 14 to home, but I blocked that out for now.

I was wrung out, but managed to stay chilled out. It wasn’t a race, it wasn’t even timed. It was a ride and a ride through pretty trails. I tried to keep my focus on taking in my surroundings and that pretty much got me back to Herne Hill. But it did feel like my bike was getting a pound heavier with every passing mile.

Coming back into London it didn’t feel very urban until the last two or three miles coming through Dulwich. Charlie’s course had kept us to hidden tracks for an impressively long time. We were welcomed back to the velodrome with some wood fire pizza and IPA and a women’s race warming up on the track to watch as riders chilled out and stretched out.

I can't tell how good this tasted washed down by a brew

And finally...

My karaoke song list from Saturday:
Saint in the City - Bruce Springsteen
Peace Frog - The Doors
The Piano Has Been Drinking - Tom Waits
Don't You Want Me - Human League

01/07/2024 - Virtually enjoyable

Third time lucky, right? Fellow tandem racer, +RichardM and I had had two time trials with late course changes in the early season already. Both made these fast courses, well, not fast, so we decided to give them a miss. Getting up early and driving to a village hall for a slow course didn’t feel appealing,

But the H25/8 course at Bentley was fast. The tandem course record of 48:42 for the 25 miles held by Elliott and Greenstreet was not to be sniffed at. This race was being run by Farnham and Camberley CC. The HQ was at the Memorial Hall in Bentley, one stop down the line from Farnham rail station. We were driving there and were in good time. I like to work backwards from the start time (10.38) and set a schedule with loads of wiggle room:

6:00 Alarm
7:00 Leave
7:30 Pick up Richard
8:30 Arrive, sign on, toilet, dress
9:00 Set up bike on turbo
9:20 Start 20 min turbo warm up
9:50 Put turbo away
10:15 Ride to start (it takes 15 min according to the organisers)
10:38 Race

The weather forecast was not great, there were light showers predicted sometime that morning, but nothing that looked disastrous. About 10 minutes from Bentley, it stared raining. Heavily. We arrived and it kept going cats and dogs. I looked at my trusty rain radar app, Rain Today and it was set to stop in 20 mins and then stay dry. I tried to stay positive.

Memorial Hall

We had arrived as the HQ opened, even though we would be the last off. One of the marshals asked who I was. When I said my name, he said “Hutchison?” Could he have mistaken me for the Northern Irish time trial legend and writer Micheal Hutchison? Little did I know, this was as exciting as the morning would get. We signed in. It kept raining.

Sign on/sign off

Richard look pissed off. “I’m calling it,” he said. “What? The rain is going to stop!” “Yes, but look outside…” There were huge puddles everywhere. “This is not going to dry out.” I could see his point. The spray would be considerable and, on a dual carriageway, trying to go around the standing water with fast-moving vehicles would be risky. I agreed. Steering a tandem is quite a challenge at the best of times and on a slippery surface with poor visibility was far from that.

Wet, wet, wet

With a profound sigh, I went over to the refreshment table which was loaded with cakes and sandwiches and picked myself out a mini chocolate doughnut. I had to have something for my entry fee. Oddly on the drive back we got to talking about bike racing. It must have been the wet weather, because the specific subject was virtual racing on a tandem. How to set it up and was anyone staging races. Of course, our combined power would equal a pro racer (or maybe just better than a pro), but our weight might be treble a pro's! Maybe we could do some race simulation on time trial courses on the Tacx app or FulGaz. We even considered the merits and options of virtual racing on Zwift, which neither of us are big fans of. That's saying something.

A good-looking spread

I was home hours before I’m planned with virtual cycling on my mind, so I downloaded the Tour de Romandie 2019 time trial course on the FulGaz app and gave it a bash on the turbo trainer. I aimed for a proper race effort and the data backed that up. I put in my best 20 min power for 2024. An upgrade. This bodes well, as in three weeks' time we are set to race on the rapid F11/10 course. Fourth time lucky?

08/07/2024 - Forest, freewheeling and fettling

We’re into July now and it’s hard to think of a week when it hasn’t rained at least half of the time. However, about 10 days ago we had a nice little warm and dry spell. I’d booked a couple of days off for a gravel excursion and weatherwise, I lucked out. Last year I took myself on a two-day bikepacking ride on the South Downs Way (SDW) and no sooner had I finished the SDW, I got to thinking about the North Downs Way (NDW) and these two days seemed as good a time as any to ride it.

My plan was to take the train to Farnham, ride 50 miles to Oxted and stay over in a guest house, then another 50 miles to Hollingbourne and a train home. You can do another day down to Canterbury and then Dover, picking up the Cantii Way (which I’d ridden a couple of year ago). Two days would do me. Luggage check shakedown ride completed, I headed down to Waterloo early doors for my mini break.

I’d made a few changes to the set up I used for the SDW. I had bought some 40mm deep carbon wheels, thanks to my 60th birthday fund, I had fitted slightly lower gears (10-44T cassette rather than 9-42T), I took an extra bag (sheer mechanical failure anxiety here) and did not bring a jacket or rain cape (the weather was that nice). I kept the same 45mm hardpack-friendly Pirelli tyres as it had been so warm all week I thought the trails would be mud free.

Farnham station is near many good cafes

Arriving at Farnham, I knew my priorities well. I headed straight to a café for second breakfast. An americano and a pain au chocolate later and I headed off on the NDW. And you are on it in minutes. Then in 4 miles you are into forest and many holloways. I find holloways both intriguing and sometimes technically challenging to ride.

The first of many holloways

The trail is wooded most of the time

The overhead canopy was welcome in the heat. My temperature soared as I headed through a golf course on a smooth downhill gravel section at pace only to have a huge John Deere ride-on mower heading up the hill at a similar pace and taking the full width of the trail. Luckily, I was on the ball at that moment and found a line to take me safely past the bladed vehicle.

As I rode, I tried to keep a recent conversation with +AndrewCass in mind. He expounded the joys of freewheeling. I said I knew that I pedalled too much, especially on solo rides. I reflected this was because I had ridden fixed-gear for many years. It’s good for time trialling, good for, well, riding fixed-gear, but less good for conserving energy. I consciously reminded myself to freewheel at any opportunity.

A rare flat section along the River Wey

One thing I seemed to be doing all the time was fettling with the indexing of my gears. There was just a slight reluctance to shift when changing down. I found myself on a slippery slope of tweaking the barrel adjuster a quarter turn one way, an eighth of turn the other and never getting it perfect. Close, but not quite exact.

There was a slippery slope of another kind when I went up the Newlands Corner climb. The trail version of an ascent that featured in the London-Surrey editions of Ride London is pretty good. Except for one a quite long section of it, the steeper part, which has quite deep sand. I found it annoyingly impossible to pedal on. A bit of hike and a bit of bike later I reached the top and got my lunch at the Newlands Corner Cafe.

The view from Newlands Corner

A bit further on, you get to take on the trail version of another Ride London climb, Box Hill. The trail version is also very pleasant, but set my mechanical failure anxiety off as there was a lot of sharp looking stones embedded in the path. I really didn’t want a long sliced cut in my tyre’s sidewall. I made it on to the top and on to Oxted, fettling as I went.

I stayed at Meads guest house, run by Helen and Rick. A really lovely elderly couple, with a lovely big house and they came up with a lovely big breakfast, too. Before I crashed out, I walked a mile to the Bull pub and treated myself to a fish and chips supper and some Neck Oil beer. The walk was good for me to keep loose.

The Bull served me what felt like the best meal and beer ever

Day 2 and you’re again, straight onto the trails in 2 minutes. And straight into a bit of fettling. As you ride through the forest covered hills of the NDW, you don’t get many views. Very different from the SDW, in that respect, but no less challenging or pretty. The trail is up and down, up and down and there are some very steep ramps and rough old descents on the other side.

There are a few nice views on the NDW, not many though, so stop and take them in

Rooks Hill starts with tarmac and shifts to trail halfway and made me sweat buckets. While I was dragging myself up a lady and her dog were coming down and the dog was very nervous. I stopped (to be polite, not because I was knackered). Honest. And we had a nice long chat (to be polite, not because I was knackered). I had thought her dog was a Labrador, but it was a Lab-Collie mix. He was 14 years old and had arthritis, but was out having a stroll and enjoying life still. I felt a bit like that old doggy as I gritted my teeth and ploughed on.

One of those trail climbs that tops out at 20-25% - ouch!

I passed a lovely-looking vineyard. I hadn’t know that it was on the trail, nor that it had multiple eateries. I looked that up after my ride. If I go back that way, I’ll definitely stop of at Denbies Wine Estate. I happened on another interesting estate and manor house, Ightham Mote, a National Trust site now, which had, as you’d expect, a decent café. I refuelled with a sandwich and the best lemon drizzle cake I’ve had in an age.

Descending through Denbies vineyard

As I hit the last descent, I realise that my fettling had finally got my indexing to the point of perfection. Better late than never, I guess. I had 45 mins before my train back to London, so I made for a nearby pub and enjoyed a cool IPA and reflected on my ride and that I was probably somewhat underbiked, even with 45mm tyres. I hadn’t seen many cyclists on the NDW, but all were on MTBs. Still, I enjoy the challenge of being a little underbiked and the technical terrain.

The trip wasn’t super expensive, £37 on trains, £95 on the B&B, £25 on lunches and £30 on dinner. Not quite free-wheeling, but I certainly felt a little freer on the trails.

• The Cycling UK route
  
• Route options on National Trails
  
• Meads bed and breakfast in Oxted
  
  

My set up and obligatory log shot

I grew up two minutes from Farnham station and as a young teenager used to do leafleting for the Spice Station curry house in your first pic for a bit of pocket money!

You've inspired me to try something similar, maybe in reverse finishing up in Farnham to see the rents!

+EdOelman sounds like you absolutely should do it. It's hard not to have a great time on trails like this; even the harder parts just made me smile.

Seconds out - 15/07/2024

I can hardly believe I am on the start line of an actual race. It’s been 14 months since +RichardM and myself last raced a time trial. We set a PB (and a club record) at 10 miles for tandems on this same F11/10 course. It’s near Tring, so easily reached from London and it is a fast course. Yes, there are a few roundabouts which impact your speed, but there’s also a glorious long down hill section after about 4 miles, which give you a boost and the good news is you don’t have to go back up it.

The race HQ is at Aston Clinton School

Why the 14-month break? Well, there have been organiser cancellations, poor weather, the time I brought two left shoes, mechanical issues, course changes and the list goes on. It seems like we’ve found every conceivable way to mess up. One time we even headed home without signing back in (technically and DNF). But we’re here. And we are hideously early. Stung by the shoe debacle, I’m more fastidious than ever about scheduling everything and writing lists of things that need to find their way into my race bag.

I use lists to manage my anxiety. Here's my schedule and warm up routine

It’s a huge field. We’re last off and we’re No 156. As we sign in the racing is well under way. Riders are heading off to the start point, which is 2 miles away and coming back in having given their all. The car park is full of people setting up and even assembling their bikes and doing their warm ups. Having signed in (must remember to sign out, I say out loud), we head back to the car to set about setting up the Calfee tandem.

Volunteers are the life blood of grassroots sport and time trials are no exception

The wheels go on, bike computers mounted, power pedals fitted and the tyres inspected for pressure. This is the only area we’ve improved since last year, when we had 28mm front and rear. Now we have 28mm at the front and 32mm rear and new TT tyres. Then it’s out with the turbo and I find a nice shady spot to warm up in. I follow the standard British Cycling 20 minute warm up and I do feel thoroughly warm at the end. Richard’s left Velotoze overshoe keeps riding down. It’s annoying him.

It's a warm day and I find a shady spot for our warm up

Richard does a good job of appearing relaxed before we race

When the time comes, we really cruise the two miles to the start. Star tandem pair Rachel Elliott and Ian Greenstreet haven’t even done that, they have driven to within 100m of the start. No one iota of wasted energy there. They are starting just ahead of us and we greet them on the start line.

Elliott and Greenstreet about to be held up - a wise choice it turns out

Our turn comes and we eschew the offer of being held up. It feels like a kindness to the starter, in spite of both of us having recent weight loss, but it leads to Richard struggling to clip in and we are delayed a smidge. Maybe we lose 2 seconds. There’s about 9 minutes riding until Gift Hill, the wonderful drop off, and I have planned to go a little harder than I might on a flat 10, on the basis that I can recover on the drop off. I don’t quite do that, but I do know I’m maxing out my efforts and begging for the easier section. And go easier I do as our speed kicks up to close to 45mph.

As the road levels off, the painful realisation kicks in that I need to do 10 more minutes of full gas pedalling before I can stop. It’s not pretty. I’m sweating up a storm and thankful I’ve enabled the rainlock on my bike computer. Looking at the computer and gauging my effort in watts doesn’t help. Nor does counting off the miles. Looking ahead, getting in the most aero position and getting big gulps of air feels like the best option.

Getting within one mile of the finish, things ease off, mentally at least. At 0.2 of a mile to go, I know I will be able to see the finish soon and the legs seem to hurt a little less. As we pass the finish it looks like a 20:50 time to me, but I can barely talk when we pull in for moment. Then the most pathetic, gentle pedalling back to base. I can’t think to direct Richard. I’m thankful it’s a simple route back and that he knows it.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” says one of the fabulous volunteers. Of course, I do, and there’s some homemade apple and almond cake among the “recovery snacks” on display. I grab it and we park ourselves and watch the results going up on the big screen. 20:50 is confirmed as our official time and 18:46 for Rachel and Ian. We have a 50 second advantage over them on the Age Adjusted Time calculations, but it’s nowhere near enough to close the gap on our illustrious opponents.

The apple and almond sit next to my tea. I only had one slice!

Twenty minutes and 50 seconds is just 2 seconds outside our PB. Two seconds! On the way home we run through what we could change to gain a little time:

• Being held up
  
• A stronger effort on the descent
  
• Better cornering on the roundabouts
  
• Adjust rear disc brake calliper alignment (there was a wee squeak there, ie friction)
  
• Relax more into riding position
  
  

And then I remember, at last year's race on the F11/10, we got involved in a three-way sprint to the line with the two other tandem pairs racing. We caught the pair that started 2 mins ahead of us and Elliott and Greenstreet caught us. It was exciting and we all pulled out a little extra effort. There's your 2 seconds, right there!

Confirming results on the big screen with time collated by still more volunteers

If you fancy a super quick 10 mile time trial, there is another F11/10 race this year on 14 September, the Icknield RC 10.

Winner, winner, chicken dinner - 07/10/2024

Dulwich Paragon’s Ride of the Falling Leaves is one of my favourite events. I’ve been taking part since 2012. The draw is the scenery, challenging climbs and sociable lunch and beer at the finish.

This year the weather looked dodgy. I decided to set my gravel bike up with road tyres and mudguards in anticipation of a day of shower dodging. In the event, the forecast brightened up profoundly on Saturday afternoon and I set up my road bike instead. Organiser Gwyn’s email with the route and other instructions closed with “See you on Sunday and hope you catch a falling leaf!” I’d never done that before. Maybe this year.

When I started riding RoTFL, as it’s known, it was a sportive with timer chips. I got a bit obsessed with getting the gold award. You needed to get around in under 4 hours to do this. I got close in 2012 and achieved it the following year. No stopping, except for “personal moments,” steady on the climbs and hammering along the flattest sections as fast as I could was my strategy. It seemed to work.

There are a few good climbs. Woldingham is long, Sundridge Lane shorter and steeper and Toys Hill is both steep and long. And getting up Anerly Hill at the end amid traffic is something of a challenge.

On the way to the HQ the sky looks reasonably encouraging

But to the start… the HQ is Herne Hill Velodrome and you begin with a “ceremonial” lap of the track. Then you head south. After an initial climb out of Dulwich, you are rewarded a decent of Anerly Hill. Life feels easy-peasy. Then you have a 10-mile section that steadily takes you upwards before 1.14 miles of the Woldingham climb at an average of 6.1%.

I am really not feeling it this weekend and have elected to do the shorter loop for the first time. Going up Woldingham, it feels like the entire field overtakes me. Really. 30-40 riders, all looking strong and powerful in sharp contrast to my feeling old, fat, stressed and broken. Plus I have a slight ankle sprain that I’m nursing (That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it). I later recall that I'd had a flu jab two days prior and that must have played a part.

Enjoy the downhills while you can, as these chaps are doing

There’s a rest stop halfway and I focus on getting there while enjoying my ride and the scenery and trying not worry about taking this at such a stately pace. I do get in with a pair of riders here and another there. A solo rider for a while. And boy is it lovely to be out and the weather is playing ball. The section that cuts the ride short is all new to me. It goes along Whistler’s Wood and Titsey Plantation along the ridge of the North Downs and there are glimpses of a fabulous view flashing on and off as you look through the trees.

The roasties were warm and very welcome

Then the well-stocked rest stop at the Velo Barn in Westerham. Among the cakes and other regular snacks, there are roast potatoes on a barbeque. Never seen that. I grab a bag and a coffee and relax. The coffee was much needed. The route continues and joins the long route here on Pilgrims Way. This ancient route that once went all the way to Canterbury has a special ambience. A thin, twisty ribbon of frankly poor tarmac, with gorgeous valley views. But I know what’s coming. The reverie will stop abruptly as you turn left onto Sundrigde Lane. It’s a 0.96 mile climb that tops out at 22%. I grind. Slowly. Another rider passes me and I feel dispirited. A runner overtakes me on the steepest section for goodness sake. What? Ahead of me the chap who overtook me has pulled in and is gasping. The road evens out and I pass the runner and normal service is resumed.

The familiarity of the run back into London helps me chug along. I didn’t manage to catch a falling leaf. A few floated past my eyes though and I thought about making a grab. The sight of the Crystal Palace transmitter looms and I know Anerly Hill is ahead - a necessary evil to get back to base. After that, it’s all downhill and I float back into the velodrome.

As I sign in, I’m informed I’m the first.
“I’ve won?” I say, getting teeny bit excited.
“No, you’re the first rider back.”
That makes sense, as I was among the first to depart and I’d done the short route.
“Others will not doubt be faster.”
“Oh, great, but I’m in the lead for now?”
“Maybe...”

I take my food voucher and go off toward the jerk chicken counter. I’m so early, they’re not fully set up yet. I place my order and go to the bar for a beer. No one is about. Hmm. A Paragon rider tells me that Catherine is around and will surface soon. I can’t wait, I go behind the bar and grab a beer from the fridge, figuring I can pay Catherine later. I collect my fine-looking jerk lunch and with my amber beer I settle down to eat, watching the track riders and chat with the second rider back, Dan.

Lunch on the steps of the velodrome

Catherine appears with a mobile credit machine and I settle up for the beer. I tell her my tale of woe, thinking I’ve won and then having it taken away moments later.
“In fact, I’ve never won anything, really.”
“But you were first in the bar,” she observes. “Give me a minute.”
And she heads back into the bar, only to appear with a medal.
“This is for being first in the bar queue!”

Catherine bestowing the "First in Bar Queue Award"

You can’t believe how happy I am. After taking a photo, I put the medal on and keep it on all day. I was thinking earlier in the week that although I had done quite a few events this year, but I hadn’t gained a new finishers’ medal. I display my medals by hanging them on an old inner tube in my bike shed. The new medal has now taken its place and it’s very much my new favourite.

The short and long of it – 14/10/2024

Having chosen the short route for last week’s Dulwich Paragon-hosted Ride of the Falling Leaves, I really wanted to do the long route for this week’s Ride of the Falling Leaves. This week Spoke Cycles in Codicote were the hosts, offering frites, beer and a screening of Il Lombardia – the last Monument race of the season - back at base.

Orange we lucky to have two falling leaves events? (Sorry, typical dad joke from me)

I planned to take the 07:52 train from New Southgate which arrives at Welwyn Garden City at 08:17. Just a 5-6 miles ride to Spoke, so plenty of time for the 09:00 depart. All well and good until the noticeboard at New Southgate announces that the 07:52 is cancelled. The next train is at 08:22 and I estimate I’ll be there at 09:20. And I was. But by the time I’ve signed in, been to the loo and loaded the route, all the groups have set off.

Arriving at Spoke Cycles as the last groups sets off

OK. What now?

I feel a bit deflated. 100km solo doesn’t really appeal to me. I figure the 100km groups will be faster, will have set off first and be harder to catch. Maybe I could catch some of the shorter route riders, who might be a bit slower. Maybe catch them at the rest stop. It’s 09:40 and I set out. I ask Mark, one of the Spoke mechanics, if the route goes left or right out of the entrance. “Left, I think,” he says. I head left and at the bottom of the hill in Codicote it’s clear I am doing the route in reverse and head back up the hill to start “properly.”

I accept I’m never going to catch up with anyone and resolve to enjoy the view and then the beer and chips. Once I’m over the annoyance of being late – tardiness is something that goes against every bone in my body - I’m feeling alright. In fact, I feel quite reasonable on the bike and overtake two riders with tell-tale orange Spoke RoTFL race numbers on their bars. I was chatting to someone last week at the other RoTFL and they said their son calls it a kill when they overtake someone. In my head I say: “two kills.” Which actually isn’t weird at all.

Not really a race number, more a way for the photographer to ID riders

On I go. It’s 30 mins before my next kill. Three. I’m a serial killer now. I am not hammering it, but I am going at a fair pace and feeling that it is sustainable. I’m on my gravel bike with 35mm slick tyres and mudguards. I have toe warmers, a semi waterproof winter jacket and bib tights. I’m build for comfort, I ain’t built for speed, as Howlin’ Wolf sang. Nonetheless, I crack on as best I can.

Cruising down a typical country lane - there are one or two fallen leaves

I’m almost killed by an MTB rider. He goes past me at one point with a sweet cadence. I haul him in on a climb and he fades off. The rest stop arrives. It’s at Church Farm in Ardeley, which I’ve visited many times before. Spoke have organised their snacks and drinks and set up this u in the Garden Room, a summer house-cum-shed that is normally rented out for kids parties. From the number of bikes with orange race numbers, it looks like there are a dozen RoTFL riders. All it seems are at the café. One is leaving at the same time as me. I almost repeat my trick at the depart and. Head out in the wrong direction. Well, I did actually, but only for 5m. The other rider catches me. I see if we are the same pace, but we’re not. Another kill? Maybe. (I did get thoroughly killed myself at one point by someone in purple who went screaming past me).

This area of south Herts is among my favourites for cycling and the route does not disappoint. It’s all pretty villages, farms and winding lanes and then more pretty villages, farms and winding lanes. I’m glad of my 35mm tyres and when it starts raining on the last quarter of the ride, I’m glad of the mudguards and all the clobber I’m wearing. Looking at today as a training ride, I’m fairly satisfied. I’ve kept an even tempo at a fair lick. I felt the edge of cramp on one of the latter climbs, but it didn’t pop, so to speak.

Lashings of butter and cheese in my toastie

Back at Spoke I’m quickly into the celebratory frites and a cold bottle of Vedett. Then tempted by a toastie, I settle in and watch the race and review my ride data. I’ve managed +20w on my power from last week’s RoTFL, when I didn’t feel so great, which is progress. When I count all the rides - to the station, from the station to Spoke, RoTFL (short version), then back to the station, then station to home – it’s close to 100km. Short or long, I call that a decent day out.

Here's Spoke's gallery of the event.

Short route:
https://www.strava.com/routes/3274664563588393126

Long route:
https://www.strava.com/routes/3274665623621002406

Long distance love affair - 20/10/2024

I’ve been visiting my family in Oregon for 20 years now, where there is some amazing cycling to be had. Well, all kinds of outdoor fun, in truth. Taking a bike with me for these trips has become second nature. I can pack everything need in a Bike Box Alan case with my bike, riding gear and normal clothes. But about 7 years ago, airlines decided to charge $50-60 for bikes and be strict about it. That is each way. Consequently, I resolved to pick up a reasonably decent second-hand bike and store it at my father-in-law’s.

eBay and various online channels proved fruitless, but a friend of my brother had a Cinelli Experience to sell. My brother it tried out for himself, but didn’t get on with the road bike positioning. Checking it out, it's a decent entry level road bike in my size, 52cm, and was fitted with a Campagnolo groupset. I love Campy. The paint was a bit rough - clearly is had been used a commuter and parked on the street - but it rode well, it fitted well and with a little TLC it could serve as my US ride partner. I parted with £300 and shipped it out to Salem, Oregon for another 100 quid.

The thought of climbing in this 53/39 chainset was making me cranky

And for several US visits now it has been so handy exploring the farmlands, coast routes, foothills of the Cascades and on local group rides. The only thing is that I have changed. The Cinelli had old school big gears. A 53/39 chainset, which I toned down a little by pairing it with a 12-29 cassette. At home I am now riding 50/34 with an 11-32 cassette on one bike and a 38 ring with 9-42 or 10-44 on my gravel bike. At 60 years of age the thought of climbing on the Cinelli’s gearing no longer seemed like fun.

So, lower the gearing, right? I scoured eBay for a second-hand compact Campag Veloce chain set. 50/34 rings would solve this easily, I figured, but it took a long time for the right item to come up. Eventually I found a good-looking set for about £30 and felt smug and wise to have had the patience for find this low-cost solution.

My in-laws (and the Cinelli) live in Salem , Oregon. It’s a town of about 175,000 people and boasts four decent bike shops. One, South Salem Cycleworks, is a little different, because they sell (and rent) second-hand bikes, alongside new ones. They import Italian steel frames and are a Campagnolo approved centre. Yes! It was the obvious place to redo my set up with the Campy chain set. I emailed the owner, Michael Wolfe, and he tells me he’s semi-retired. He’s shut the shop, but he still runs a repair workshop.

Michael turned out to be an information mine, as well as an expert bike mechanic

“You’ll need a front mech that works with compact, David,” Michael advises.
I find one for another £30 and still consider this worthwhile. Checking out my spares in my bike shed, I have a few other items that will make this an even better upgrade – a set of Campagnolo Zonda wheels, a Fizik saddle and GP5000 tyres. At this point, my next US trip is 7 or 8 months away, but I’m all set, right?

When my father-in-law visits London in spring, I send him home with the chainset and front mech. No shipping needed. How much cheaper can I make this?

Apart from discussing and making choices about all the technical minutiae of the upgrade, Michael and I got chatting about a few other cycling-related things. Tandems, for instance. He’s set up several and ridden with a few different partners over the years. We chatted about how Campagnolo’s tech has evolved and why the 10sp might just be the last great Campag groupsets. And of course, what are the great to ride around Salem.

A month before our visit I ask my father-in-law to drop off the bike with Michael. Slowly and surely the scale and cost of the upgrade progress. Michael doesn’t repair a bike overnight. Little and often seems to be his approach.
“You’ll need new bar tape.”
I pick the white Supercaz. $45.
“You need new bottom bracket cups.”
$40.
“The chain is worn out and needs replacing.”
$40.
“You need a new rear mech.”
I ask why this is, as the current one works well with the 12-29 cassette.
“It’s to do with the capacity of the mech,” he explains.
Michael educates me about the kind of capacity a rear mech needs and how to calculate it. I am now wiser, but a new rear mech will cost me.
It’s another $100.

Michael kept me updated at every step

It’s days before I fly out and the bike is still not ready. The chain is sometimes hanging (ie not shifting) when changing between the big and small rings. Dang. Michael has several possible explanations. Maybe fit a new chainset. He has one for $130. Or it could be the chain. He had recommended and fitted a non-Campag chain, but the Campag chain could make a difference. I say try that. He tried it, and it worked.
Another $30, though.

Factoring everything in - not forgetting new cables - the final repair bill was $470. I say final, but we then had to add the $30 for the chain upgrade making the final, final bill $500! Plus there was the £60 for the chain set and front mech. Gosh. I could have bought a bike for that. The idea of having a rim brake bike with a mechanical, mid-level group was to have something with longevity that easy and is relatively cheap to repair. So much for that. But when it’s all set up with the now completely new drive chain, plus upgrades to the saddle and wheel and tyre upgrade, it looks and rides great.

The finished bike has a complete new drive chain, plus bar tape, saddle, wheels and tyres

Upgrading this bike remotely, I seemed to lose control of the cost. But it was a labour of love. Love over a long distance, if you like. I think about why I don’t really mind. It’s a bit like my allotment. We spend far more on tools, seeds and plants, soil, planks for raised beds and so on. Then there’s all the time you spend to grow your produce. The money value of your fruit and veg can never match your investment. But it’s fun and incredibly satisfying, not to mention very tasty. I feel pretty much the same way about this bike project.

So, was it any good? Was it worth it? Find out in my next instalment.

👍🏽👍🏽

The only way is up – 03/11/2024

Since 2000, most years I’m lucky enough to visit the Pacific North-West to spend time with my family. To make things even better – and retain my sanity – I do a fair amount of cycling out there. Out there being Salem, Oregon. Capital city of the beaver state, which boasts mountains, lakes, rivers, coast and so much forest. I keep a road bike at my in-law’s house and have just updated it with lower gears it by “remote control,” as I wrote in my last post, Long Distance Love Affair.

Family fun and catch ups aside, I like to organise a good regular set of rides for myself, join a group ride if I can, explore some new routes, enjoy my favourite old routes and, dates of travel allowing, enter an event ride. We’re over later in the summer than on any previous trip, and for an event there was the aptly-named Harvest Century on the last day of our upcoming visit. I entered.

This is typical of the rolling terrain around southeast Salem

After arriving and unpacking the very next thing to do – obviously – is to rebuild the bike. This time my bike is somewhat altered having an entirely new compact drive chain fitted. In short, lower, easier gears. From London I’d also brought some bits and bobs that were going unused to further upgrade it: new GP5000 tyres, a Fizik saddle and matching saddlebag, plus Campagnolo Zonda wheels. I put it all together, gave the bike a wipe down and admired the handywork. It cost me more than I had reckoned, but I hoped it was worth it for a bike that I rode for three weeks of the year.

Three weeks. But a really good three weeks. Usually we stay with my in-laws on the east side of Salem in the Four Corners neighbourhood. Head east and you are in typical Willamette Valley farmland. It’s mainly long gentle rises and flowing flat roads through fields growing hazelnuts or hops or Christmas trees. Then there are horses and other livestock. It is mellow fare and I’ve gotten used to it. Maybe too used to it, because this year for various reasons we are staying in south-east Salem and it’s a little different.

The only way is up in south-east Salem

I plan a few routes in advance on the other side of town and after a reasonable first night’s sleep I head out for a typical 25 miles of a loosener. Within a mile I’m on Rees Hill Road, a climb that itself is a mile long and tops out at 17%. 17%! Some warm up, I think to myself. I soon assess the surrounding area to our new accommodation. Hills, hills and more hills. This 25 miles had close to 2,500ft of elevation gain; the so-called golden ratio. When I get back to base – later than I’d planned – I look through my other planned routes and take a breath. They are all golden ratio, ie 100 feet of climbing per mile. This is going to be interesting, I reflect. And I feel completely justified, validated and relieved to have a set of easier gears.

For my local rides I start to play around with heading towards different compass points, but the simple fact is that we’re right in the middle of lots of big bumps. I resign myself to a three-week climb-fest and how good it will be for me to have to work a bit harder that I usually do.

Hills apart, it’s still all farmland and forest. The highlights included taking the Buena Vista Ferry for the first time. I’d done the more northerly Wheatland Ferry and that got me super excited when instead of an arrow, my Garmin sat nav gave me the picture of a boat and the words “Wheatland Ferry.” I’m using a Hammerhead Karoo and it doesn’t do this trick.

It costs $1 to cross the Willamette River on the Buena Vista Ferry

Another high was the climb up towards Mt Jefferson heading along the Breitenbush River from our camp site at Deroit Lake. And the decent was delicious. There’s quite a bit of burn from the big 2020 wildfires, which was really sad. Thankfully, there’s still plenty of terrain that’s not burnt. There was about half a mile of grasshoppers all across the road, bouncing up and pinging off my legs, which was bit weird. And there’s the view at the top. And the decent is incredible. It’s 16 miles up, but 16 miles down, you drop 2,000ft and there’s almost no motor vehicles and it’s not at all technical. 45 minutes of bliss.

The big burn of 2020 has left many roads closed in the Mt Jefferson Wilderness

At the top of my Breitenbush climb

One time in the south-east Salem hills I came across something new. New to me, anyway. I’d spotted a coyote early on in my ride and then I saw three large looking birds about 200m up the road. I stopped. Be gentle, Dave, I thought. Be quiet and let the birdies come to you. One looked a bit like a peacock from distance with larger plumage. The feathered trio started towards me. These birds were not at all shy, they were absolutely legging it towards me.

Three little birds on the horizon. Or are they?

When they were 20m away I got out my phone to take a picture. I snapped them at 10m and at 5m, which them still charging towards me, I thought better of hanging around and sped off. What the heck were they? At home I Googled and it turns out they were wild turkeys. I didn’t even know there was such a thing. These were Merriam’s wild turkeys, they love living in pine trees and the males can grow to 20lbs in weight. Apparently, despite their weight, wild turkeys, unlike their domesticated counterparts, are agile, fast fliers. Maybe next time I’ll see a wild turkey fly.

This was close enough for me

One of the Salem bike shops, Scott’s Cycles, has a Tuesday and Thursday evening group ride. It’s always very friendly, has a mix of ability and fitness and three routes. North, south and east. They don’t go west. It’s north the night I go. Up through the pleasant suburb of Keizer, past the baseball stadium and out on to some very flat farm terrain. The pace is a bit spicy, in truth. I can usually push it at the front of there rides, but I’m distinctly mid-pack this time around. And that might be an overestimation.

A quick regroup halfway round on the Scott's Cycles ride

As the holiday winds down, I decide to take a couple of days off the bike before the Harvest Century. I haven’t done 100 miles for a while. I did RideLondon two years ago on a tandem with +RichardM but my last solo Imperial century was before the pandemic. Gulp. I was getting nervous. I yo-yoed between doing the metric and Imperial century route.

Despite being 40 mins drive away, I still needed a car. As this was the last day of our trip, Angie, my wife, has planned to drive up to Portland with our sons to see some cousins we hadn’t managed to spend time with yet. I reached out to some Salem Strava groups and a email group figuring someone would be going there and I could catch a ride. No luck. Except a guy called Chris, who lived in Estacada on the other side of Molalla and therefore couldn’t offer a lift – offered for me to join his group. Liftwise, I forgot to ask my father-in-law if I could borrow his truck. Doh! “Of course you can have it,” he said. Sorted.

I arrive at Molalla at dawn for an early start

Chris taught in a Molalla school and knew the area well. To do 100 miles you have to do the smaller Challenge Route (37 miles) first, followed by the Imperial Century Route. Chris said his local knowledge suggested to do it the other way around. I figured I’d do the 100km and finish. No more yo-yo thinking on distances. When I get there and get registered, it turns out Chris’s group consists of him and one buddy and they are going to do the 37 miles then the 100km. Okay, I’m in for 100 miles.

My new riding buddies, Chris on the right

There’s only 5,000ft of climbing overall, but half of it is front-loaded in the 37-mile Challenge route. I take it steady and plan to do so throughout. I’m middle strength out of the three of us. Chris is the strongest and rides very generously. I cruise around mainly on his rear wheel, except for the climbs, where he just floats up and away from me seemingly without effort. He’s started racing gravel events this year - the Oregon Triple Crown Series - and in his very first he claimed third in his age group and you can see why.

Cruising into the finish I’m looking forward to the apres ride provision. West Coast cycle events – or as they say, bike events – are typified by excellent food provision. I’ve done the Blackberry bRamble a couple of times. That goes out of Eugene and you get blackberry pie and ice cream, plus a beer at the finish. The Portland Century, which seems to be in hiatus right now, was known as the gourmet century. There were well-stocked food stops every 15 miles, and, I kid you not, the final one being pizza. Then, if you’ve got an any space left in your tummy, you get a three-course meal with a beer. The Harvest Century had options for a sandwich lunch and a meal at the finish. I’d ticked both boxes and paid the uplift.

The Harvest meal I’ve bought into is brats and every kind of salad you can think of. There’s also two beers included. I pick a tasty IPA and have a friendly chat and a bit of a boogie with my riding buddies and their families. I can only handle one brew as I’ve go to drive the truck back 30-miles from Molalla to Salem. For all my anxiety about riding 100 miles for the first time in a while, I feel pretty good. How you feel the day after is usually the big indicator of endurance fatigue, but I feel fine. Just as well, because we are flying back to the UK and that is a big day.

A well earned brew at the finish

Sure, I love my cycling and I always get some extra mileage from my usual on our US trips, but we’ve done plenty of other stuff, too. Camping in the foothills of the Cascades and on the coast, fishing in Detroit Lake, crabbing in Waldport, hiking up to Marion Lake, sampling IPAs, interning my mother-in-law’s ashes, family BBQs (there were a few) and more generally getting “Oregonized” and sucking up the local vibe. If you like the outdoor life and get the chance to visit Oregon, Washington or northern California, take and bike and take in the wider lifestyle, you will not regret it.

Camping and cycling are a killer combo - this is the Detroit Lake State Park

Call me Lord Volterol - 20/11/2024

We’d just buried by cousin Susan and the mourners were heading back to the chapel through the cemetery grounds when I realised something wasn’t right. Click click, click went my left knee. I say my left knee, but it didn’t feel like my knee. It felt odd. I was too absorbed in paying tribute to my lovely cousin who was gone too soon to think too much about this clicking (and stiffness) at the time.

OK, so I have pain. Take it easy, right? The next day I did a very gentle turbo spin, followed by my gentle commute to work. It adds up to 2 hours of riding, but mellow stuff. Gentle. My knee was not mellow. It was sore around the knee cap and it clicked with pretty much every pedal stroke. The clicks were accompanied by a jarring of the bones. Cycling home at the end of the day was awful. I commute on a fixed-gear bike and so there is no rest. Also, you are overloaded (ie in too high a gear) on all the climbs. There is no rest, even on downhills (this is I why I do it, because it’s harder!). I stand as much as I can, because that feels better and clip and do pretend freewheeling on the downhills. The latter is fairly ugly as you have spread your feet wide to clear the ever-turning pedals.

What on earth has happened to me? In the last 10 days I’ve done the Dulwich Paragon Ride of the Falling Leaves and the Spoke Cycle Ride of the Falling Leaves. I’d ridden a shorter version of each and felt good. Neither were a ride of the failing knees. I self-diagnosed. “All my meniscus has worn away and the bones are knocking together,” I told my other half. I spun out. “I will not be able to ride my bike again. I have some nice ones, so I guess I could clean polish them, but aside from that, I’m done.” A bit dramatic. I added my broken knee to the other issues that were creeping up on my 60-year-old physique. It doesn’t make for pretty reading.

Things reducing
• Eyesight
• Hair
• Hearing

Things growing
• Weight
• Prostate
• Bunions

There are plenty of books being written about being an older athlete. Cycling Past 50 by Joe Friel and The Midlife Cyclist by Phil Cavell are good examples. I know that we can only hold back time for so long. You lose top end power as your VO2 max goes. There's an expected 5% loss per decade. You will lose muscle mass. But I’ve always relished the challenge of keeping what I have. What I have is not front-of-the-pack racing power, probably not even mid-pack. “I work hard to achieve a good level of mediocrity” is my mantra. But I feel like my time is the saddle is done. The knee feels so wrong and I begin to catastrophise the future.

Of course, I take action. I go straight into RICE mode (rest, ice, compression and elevation). A session with my osteopath and a GP appointment are booked. Osteo first. I see Michael at MSK Pain Clinics, who is based around the corner in N12. He does a slow considered examination and I tell him how this doesn’t feel like my knee. “One moment,” he says, “I’m going to get you a new knee.” He pops out a second and comes back with a knee replica to explain all the mechanics of the joint. It seems my patella tendon is not tracking right, ie it is not in the groove that it’s meant to sit in and this is causing friction. A misaligned patella. Or there could be rough spots under the kneecap. “This is fixable,” say Michael. I don’t know if he notices a little tear welling up.

Michael's knee model and a red voodoo band

Michael gives me a plan. First, I’m going to use a voodoo band five times a day. It's called voodoo flossing and it creates vascular contraction. We do a demo. It’s a 1.5m and very wide elastic band that you bind your knee with. Then you move the joint for 2 minutes in any direction. It’s a long 2 minutes. The idea is that it both trains the tendon to get into the groove and forces blood to rush to the centre of the normally blood-starved knee. Then I’m to reduce my training stress. Less maximal efforts. “But you must not stop. Cycling is good for your recovery.” Another thing Michael suggests is to move my saddle up a little and forward a little. The idea is to put my knee in a slightly different position. Different enough to change the angle of the repetitive strain, but not so different as to be disruptive.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57VdLmWryOI

Voodoo flossing the knee 5 times a day was a labour of love

Meanwhile, I go for an hour’s walk each lunch time. I explore local green spaces I’ve not been to before, like Coppett’s Wood. This is a bit hit and miss, or rather click and miss, but I’m meant to keep moving and I need to do something or I’ll go nuts.

Coppett's Wood is a mile from where I live, but I'd never been there

My GP arranges both an X-ray and an NHS physio session. She tells me I do still have a meniscus. Another tear escapes. Her thought is that this is most likely arthritis and a touch of tendinitis. The physios gives me two exercise – essentially squats - stuff I’m already doing. The X-ray show some expected wear and tear at my age. I can expect a 4-5 week recovery period. I need to be aware that there is long term degeneration and I’ll need to manage it. “But keep cycling. Cycling is good for your arthritis, just avoid the hard efforts.”

How on earth do I stay strong and avoid hard efforts?

I have to change my training plans and my season plans. I was just about to commence my base training. And this is the time I usually plan my race season. That usually consists of a dozen time trials on a tandem, some road and gravel events, plus a bike packing trip or two. I can’t plan anything. I let my tandem partner down gently. The Hell of the Ashdown tickets go on sale. This event sells our in 24 hours or so, so I grab a ticket for this February ride unsure of whether I’ll be able to take part.

I’m very good with the voodoo flossing. It feels a bit odd, but every time you do it the knee feels better and the clicks abate. Mostly I get clicking for a few minutes when I start riding now, then they fade. When I think about riding my fixed-gear bike I wince. I order a freewheel with the same gearing as my fixed-wheel cog. The first tome I use it it feels so different. I lose the lovely fixed-wheel connection with the bike, but I’m deeply grateful for being able to stop pedalling on the downhills. It’s still overloaded when climbing, but I’ve had some rests. I get to work faster. What’s happened? With the higher saddle and single-speed deployed, I’m 2mph faster than normal!

Some friends come over for dinner – one is a riding buddy – and he suggests I use an anti-inflammatory gel. This I had forgotten. I have some tucked away in the bathroom cabinet. “Use twice a day for up to 7 days.” I do. And it helps. “Call me Lord Volterol!” I pronounce. Also he know a doctor/cyclist standing by with free advice for cyclists with knee issues.

Slowly Lord Volterol picks up the training pace. It’s stayed quite dry and I decide to do some solo gravel riding. I can go at my own pace. I do 2 hours on a Saturday without a reaction and so I venture to do another 3 hours on Sunday. I keep my mid-week efforts modest and still feel good by the next weekend. I aim for a group gravel ride. Our group of four are strong and it pushes me. I finish having put out some good power (for me) and no reaction from the knee.

I decide to pick up the intensity of my mid week turbo sessions and then do a group road ride the following weekend. This feels OK for 25 miles or so, then my fitness and general lack of climbing prowess (not just knee-related, how I am when I’m riding well) catches up with me. There’s a bit of an ache. It moves from knee to knee. What’s this, both knees are messed up? It’s a dull ache. Clicks when I climb stairs. Remember that I’ve forgotten to voodoo floss for a few days now, too. I consider I’ve moved too fast towards my usual training level. And that it sucks getting old.

That brings me up to date. I’m riding, but it’s different. Whatever I have, it could be worse. I watch a YouTuber who has quite a few injuries from MTB riding. He’s 20 years younger than me, but boy does he have a catalogue of crashes and operations. I watch Juliet Elliott’s vlog and she’s just had a serious crash on La Palma, mainly affecting her elbow and hand. 12 days in hospital for her and is unsure of how well she’ll recover.

https://youtu.be/y0GoW6yFuD0?si=GdWGDPJN19QvJtms

Juliet's "proper injury." Heal soon, Juliet

I bump into my mate Matt coming back from one of my gentle rehab rides. I ask him how he is and he pulls a face. “It’s my knees. They are ****ed. Nothing can be done, I just have to manage the pain.” I don’t know if it makes me feel better to know others are in this aging process, but I know I’m not alone. That’s something. The knee has been improving, but it feels like there is something to manage, especially if I do harder efforts. There's a bit of two steps forward, one step back as I work out what I can and can't do. But one things for certain, Lord Volterol is going to find a way to keep riding.

I’m sorry about your injury! I trust you will fully recover and be stronger by the spring!

Thanks +Greg_Kabulski

“Every time I fall, I bounce back a little higher”

https://youtu.be/sa6sgJqu9CY?si=Purmzp0Vu4x1ZfAi

Great tune! I love a good 12 bar blues!

Thanks for sharing David. Good luck with the recovery.