ACME Betweenmas audax — FIXED + SEMI-FASTED + DANK + WHAT LEGS?

ACME Awards 2024

Clare Finchingfield loop to clap Fenland Friends riders

Ashdon 20K Fast Training Loop 🥵

Clavering Widdington training ride — first in a long while

Why, oh-why do I do these things to myself?!!  That was a long, lonely, hard-won, mind-over-matter 600km ride through the Fens.  Again ...

I'll be stamping cards at the first control next Saturday, as usual, and so the option of riding the helpers' ride, or route-check, was available.  I don't need this for PBP-qualification, but I do need it for my Essex SR, so on Thursday I caved and let Tom know I'd be riding it as the weather looked mild.  It lied.

Updated to add: TL;DR — the ride was fine, took it easy at the start, which paid back for most of the second half.  Weather mixed.  Avoided Goole McD's, but succumbed to Sleaford.  No Wetherspoons visited.  Routesheet needs a couple of corrections — missing signs, etc.  GPS files are spot on.  Sunburnt and very tired at the end.  Now, on with the long version ...

The Flatlands has some of the least climbing for any 600km event in the UK, and so people think it must be easy.  It's anything but that — all that sitting down using just the same set of muscles is tiring, there's not a lot of variation in the scenery, and if the wind's blowing then there's nowhere to hide!  Anyone who has ridden this will tell you the same, and there are some really wind-related horror stories about — like 2015 where we had 320km of headwind to the turn at Goole; stopped for McD's and a snooze during which time the wind turned 180° and we had 290km of headwind back to Great Dunmow!  And that wasn't the only time ... as this was to be the fourth time I'd ridden this route, I knew what I could be in for.

Number-one son drove me to Dunmow for a 6am start — a first, greatly simplifies things now he can drive.  A quick chat with Tom as I picked up my brevet, and I was off: the start of a solo 600km perambulation with just myself for company.

When I ride events on the proper day, I tend to go off quick and then blow up anywhere from 100km to 300km into the route.  On this ride I decided to let it come and just spin along gently.  I was working on breathing rather than heart rate — if I felt even the slightest bit out of breath, I dropped cadence.  And, as I was riding fixed-gear — 73-inches, since you asked — cadence was the only option I had.

Great Bardfield came and went, a couple of quick photos in the lovely Finchingfield, before turning left and heading off towards Newmarket-ish.  This part of the countryside is nice, and at 6.30am it's very pleasant to ride through.  The day started cool, but with the potential to warm, so no need for full-cold gear.

I took a slight detour in Lidgate to bag a square.  Also, what's with Toad Hall and Mole End Cottage there — is this author country?

The climb from Dalham to Gazeley was through a lovely, verdant-green woodland, and the descent the other side — the final significant descent for quite a long way, was picturesque, with Fenland opening up in the distance.

One thing I noticed is that there's a lot more thatch in Essex and Suffolk than there is in Cambs, Lincs, Yorks and Notts.  Just thought I'd mention it.

Thru Red Lodge to the café.  Always a slightly odd place, very down-to-earth greasy spoon.  They are looking forward to seeing you all next weekend.  They still can't get their heads around the fact that they are near the beginning, just one-tenth distance, and riders will be going on for 30+ hours yet.  I grabbed a Twix for later — riding fasted, so nothing to eat and no caffeine until 100km or 1pm.

As I stepped out, the temperature plummeted and the heavens opened.  Donned waterproof jacket and quietly swore — we weren't forecast this.  Another 20km later and the sun was out and everything drying, but before that I managed to grab a photo of the spray off my front wheel — THAT is why Tom's mandating mudguards on this event, people, so fit'em!

One thing I really noticed on this ride was the number of windmills across the Cambridgeshire Fens.  Many of these were used to grind grain, as you would expect, but many were also used as pumping stations, to empty the small drains into the large drains that dried this whole region, leaving extremely fertile farmland.  There are also many engine-powered pump houses dotted around.  Later on, there are many windmill towers still standing all across Lincolnshire, too.

The run across here was smooth, but with a nagging headwind.  I stopped, as usual, at the Pidley Mountain Rescue — a lovely piece of irony, given the complete dearth of any sort of wilderness or elevation for hundreds of miles.  A couple of selfies.

Ramsey Road to Whittlesey is always a grim pleasure — the road is straight and long.  On night rides, you can see cyclists' blinkies from literally miles away, dead ahead.  It started to rain, but I stopped anyway for a photo at the boat, then popped to Nisa for requisite brevidence.  I was hoping to ride fasted to Boston or even Kirton-in-Lindsey, but the extra work into the headwind meant I scoffed a sandwich in Whittlesey, "just" 135km into the ride.

The next stage to Boston is my least favourite — these roads are the only viable route for bikes and I've ridden them many times now.  If you've brought a friend, you'll want to ride two-up to stave off the boredom, but passing motorists won't love you for it.  Me, I just had myself — I decided to think during the day and have choons during the night, so chat away I did.  And after suggesting previously that I should take notes, I took none and can't remember most of what "we" chatted about ... The mandatory selfie at the ironically named "Peak Hill", a mere 3m above the plain.  A quick garage stop in Boston and then onwards.

I was making fairly good progress — most of the time the pace was around 25kph and breathing was light and easy.  I was consciously trying to keep my pace down so I would have more left towards the end, and hopefully get back before dark (on Sunday).

The stage from Boston to Kirton is my favourite: the landscape starts uber-flat and gradually gets a gentle roll to it, with a lot of direction changes and plenty of junctions to navigate.  The afternoon light was, for the most part lovely.  The New York and Boston sign in the middle of England always makes me smile :)

Lots of road-closed signs and signs about mobile works — Lincs council seems to be chip-sealing a lot of roads!  No closures that will affect riders next weekend, I think. 

I caught up with another rider about 20km out and I dropped my pace a little so we could chat — Radek from Poland, just picked up a second-hand bike and was riding it back to Scunthorpe.  In the end we rode together all the way to Derrythorpe on the Trent, where he peeled right back into Scunny.  Some of you may see him on Saturday — he thinks we're mad, but likes the idea, and may hang out on the route to catch onto a group or two.  He's not very quick down the hills — I don't think he trusted the brakes!

Some great sunset views from the ridgeline that Kirton sits on, and later from the plain below the Trent.

I was then on my own on the flat, able to pick up the pace again on the desolate run in the dark to Goole.  At least the council has nicely resurfaced the road from Eastoft.  I didn't bother with McD's this year, I wanted a quick turnaround and get going southwards, beat any change in the wind, so a sandwich from Glew's Garage it was.

It was quite cold by now, so back on with the waterproof and gilet.  Fortunately, though, the wind had dropped.  All this meant is I stayed on the drops to cut better through the still, dense air.  I could see the mist beginning to rise, casting long rays from the dynamo light.  The temperature continued to drop, at times feeling bitterly cold, as I span gently through Yorkshire and back into Lincolnshire.  A really uneventful section, there's not much goes on here — apart from the "road closed" sign, and the closed railway level-crossing without a pedestrian bridge and a long detour to get around.  A couple of fitters were adjusting the barriers and kindly let me cross by foot.  One night only.

Gainsborough Garage appeared, eventually, like an oasis in the night.  The same cheery greeting there as always, and a playful eye-roll when I mentioned a hundred-odd riders stopping by next weekend.

The next stage to Sleaford was the hardest, as it was by now midnight and I was starting to feel the dozies, not helped by the bitter, damp cold.  A stiff climb up onto the ridgeline towards Lincoln and then count down the miles to the next pitstop at the Shell Garage there.  I rode past quite a few Audax Hotels (bus stops), but it was just too cold to consider stopping, even though I had brought a nice warm jacket and hat for just that purpose.  I grabbed a coffee in Lincoln, swallowed a couple of ProPlus, bounced down the cobbles of Steep Hill, which had barriers up for some sort of bike race, fought my way through the Saturday-night revellers, and climbed Canwick Hill.  Well, got off and walked mostly, as I didn't feel I had it in the legs to waste energy.

The rollers after there came and went, the thick, heavy mist obscuring any nighttime sights.  On my first ride down this section, I really suffered on the Brompton, because I went out too quick from the beginning, but this time I rolled through okay.  More Audax Hotels, but getting colder, so pushed on.  at 3.30 it began to get light, and the Dawn Chorus started shortly after.  Before Sleaford I was really suffering, so abandoned my plan to push through, and detoured to McDonald's — open 24 hours, and I do mean open-open.  Not yet the breakfast menu, so chicken burger, followed by an hour or so's kip on one of the benches, as I was the only customer at 4am.

By the time I left, the sun was up and it was looking like it would be a nice day.  The wind felt like it had completely settled, but it picked up soon enough — still, annoyingly, headwindy.  After Sleaford, the route re-enters the Spalding Zone — ultra flat, ultra dull.  Cabbages.  

My legs really started to fall off during this leg — 450km ridden, 160km to go, no legs.  

I had been practicing various pedalling techniques all the way, and a couple really seemed to help either reduce the amount of power I needed, or increased pace for the same power; unfortunately those muscles tired quite quickly and I was back to pedalling squares — something to work on.

Stopped at the Nisa in Whittlesey a second time to restock, as managed to drink a lot of water — the weather was really rather fine, and temperature much warmer than forecast, go figure.  Still only 12°C, though.  Had to wait a few minutes, as they were still closed; last year we got back here nearly two hours' earlier on Fenland Friends, but I was riding with Richard then, and we keep a decent pace together.  Cool but lovely now, so the long-sleeve and arms came off.

Chatteris is never a favourite stop of mine.  I don't find much appeals in the town, and every road out of there is flat and wind-afflicted.  A quick stop at the garage before pushing on through the town towards Cambridge.  The headwind was brisk by now and progress slow.

Oddly for me, this route heads straight past the end of our lane and the temptation to head home is always strong.  But I know that if I do that, I'll end up losing an hour for no actual gain — once the legs are gone, they're gonna stay that way for a couple of days, so I rode on by.

Cambridge: suicidal tourists, I took my time.  Lots of traffic on the road thru Trumpington towards the M11, but I turned left and they didn't. 

I followed the offical B184 route, rather than the longer scenic diversion, and the traffic was reasonably heavy all the way to Saffron Walden at 2.30pm-ish, but from there it was quiet thru Thaxted.  And finally to Great Dunmow, where I laboured up the hill into town for my final brevidence: 33 hours 21 minutes — that's a few minutes quicker than I rode Fenland Friends last year, although average speed was slower, as I was on my own this time. It might even be my quickest 600 — I'll put that down to the lack of reckless abandon at the beginning.

Overall I enjoy these kinds of rides after-the-fact — very definitely type-2 fun.  The endurance aspect of The Flatlands is very much mental rather than physical — the long, straight roads, and open, almost-featureless vistas do tend to drive one's thoughts inwards rather than out.  But, having ridden it, and in quite a good time for me, today (Monday) I feel satisfied that I did what I set out to do, without much drama.

Dropping my pace at the start and controlling it throughout made a huge difference.  The legs still fell off, but much later in the ride.  If I'd had someone to chat with and keep my mind off the pain, I would've been quicker on the Sunday, I think.

The nagging headwind meant I spent most of the ride on the drops.  As it's a classic frame, with horizontal top-tube and quill stem, the drops are low, and having my body horizontal makes a huge difference in the wind, but it's not particularly comfortable, especially not on the hands.  By the end of the ride, my shoulders were aching, and my right arm all-but giving up, as I had been holding position for so long.

Also, despite changing the saddle to a trusted Brooks B17 Imperial, well worn-in, I still suffered terrible saddle sores — somebody must know why?  I don't think it's saddle — what else could it be?

Sunburnt!; chapped lips; dehydrated, despite drinking gallons; dead to the world (slept thru a movie); and a cold from the misty overnight section.  Why do I do this again?!

Those couple of squares I bagged mean I've upped my max square from 21 to 24, yay!

And, finally, I kept a tally of all the pubs I noticed along the way.  At times it felt like I hadn't seen a pub in ages, but in reality I saw quite a few.  I counted 128 in all, but didn't visit a single one.  Well, I needed SOMETHING to do while i was riding ;)

Having been alone with my thoughts for such a long, uninterrupted time, I'm ready for a lie down.  

Next up is stamping cards next weekend; Bare Bones 400 the weekend after (London-Wales-London for no-frills audaxers, I think?), which will be my final PBP qualifier; and Windsor-Chester-Windsor 600 the weekend after that.

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Nick Wilkinson

The Flatlands 600km audax route-check — FIXED + VERY FASTED + WET + SUN + COLD + HOT + FOGGY + FREEZING + LONG & LONELY

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ACME Betweenmas audax — FIXED + SEMI-FASTED + DANK + WHAT LEGS?

ACME Awards 2024

Clare Finchingfield loop to clap Fenland Friends riders

Ashdon 20K Fast Training Loop 🥵

Clavering Widdington training ride — first in a long while

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