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Dave and I won this race last year. It was a hard-fought and in the end, quite a narrow victory. I was expecting more of the same this time – 12 hours is quite ‘short’ for an endurance race, especially in the pairs and there was bound to be enough people in ‘the fast camp’ who would be up for a ding-dong.

It was going to be a near-sprint, in fact; no time for punctures or fannying around, just flat-out laps followed by sitting in a chair, trying not to get too comfy whilst keeping an eye on the clock…as soon as your team mate appears after his lap, jump up, coat off, swap the timing chip and go go go!

Photo – Sportsunday 

Being honest, we were working so hard early on that like fools, we thought that we were winning. We then discovered we were actually 2^nd, the pair who were in the lead were tapping out some really quick laps and looked comfortable. Jonny Stenson and Charles Newton-Mason, another pair who were in with a shout of the win, had dropped out very early in the race after a major mechanical so decided to snuggle up together under a duvet and heckle everyone else

We were however mostly staying out of trouble this time (unlike last year’s puncture-fest and ignoring Dave’s crashing this time) and we knew that eventually we’d start to close the gap….or the gap would get bigger….one of the two. ‘Something’ was bound to happen anyway.

At around 6 hours we started to close the gap. The cramps in my calves that had been bothering me since lap 2 and causing me to soft-pedal quite a bit were gone (thank goodness for electrolyte drinks!), our changeovers were getting slicker, Dave was riding as blindingly fast as ever. Just a minute here, a few seconds there, we were closing in. It was a proper race again!

In between laps I was entertained by the efforts and obvious focus of Phil who like last year, was racing solo. Phil had a load of bad luck last year and eventually, against all odds, finished 4^th. This year though things just clicked for him and he led the solo race right from the start, eventually riding away from the rest of the solo field to win with a 32 minute gap. Amazing!

Meanwhile, Budge and Andy found themselves in 3^rd place in the pairs after hours of consistent laps, chipping away at the pair in front of them and eventually bagging a podium finish. Chapeau!

Once in the lead, Dave and I stayed there and finished with a 10 minute cushion. It was still really bloody close, 10 minutes after 12 hours of racing is nothing. But we’d won.

A good day for everyone in Team JMC colours in fact – all 5 of us had reached the podium.

All that was left now was for us to collect our prizes at the presentation in the pub, tackle the evil that is the Dog and Partridge chilli con carne (a penalty for not beating Budge and Andy by 3 clear laps), have a quick pint, group photo, drive home and get ready for Mountain Mayhem next weekend…..

Marking the end of a reasonably hard ‘overload’ week of long rides, I joined in the fun with the guys from the Rapha Cycle Club (with their impressively large truck and coffee machine) and a few other intrepid cyclists for the Pennine Night Ride. After Dave and Phil arrived at my house we set off into the night towards the Velodrome…

I’m no stranger to riding in the dark and riding through the night and into the daylight of the following day, but still the sight of a group of road cyclists zipping through the urban sprawl from Manchester Velodrome towards the Peak District was a very impressive sight. The thousands of drunken women that had spilled out onto the Manchester streets from the Take That gig at the stadium across the road also seemed impressed. The ones that weren’t sprawled out on the pavement after a few too many Bacardi Breezers anyway….

As we followed the route towards the ‘proper’ hills we were told that the Mottram Moor climb at Stalybridge was the one and only prime of the ride – basically the first one to the top gets a prize….Dave, John and me needed no more encouragement to race to the summit, which was exciting. Somewhat inevitably, Dave took a narrow lead and kept it until the top, winning some kind of ‘Rapha essentials kit’ which we assume includes some gear that the gentleman cyclist should never be without….dunno. He’s not got it yet

The route then included a lot of familiar roads in the Peaks – some brilliant climbs and exhilarating descents, a slightly surreal climb and subsequent re-grouping outside the Cat And Fiddle Pub at 3am, a close call in the form of a sheep in the road that caused a locked-up rear wheel on the descent of the Cat and Fiddle, another Rapha coffee machine coffee stop near Buxton (the strongest coffee ever), one of the finest sunrises I’ve ever seen and a return to the Velodrome though the near-deserted streets of Levenshulme…only the early-morning zombies were up and about, keeping us entertained as they staggered around, doing weird stuff like shouting at carrier bags…..

9 hours…that’ll take us to about 7pm…plenty of time at 7pm….hmmm we’re going to need to stop soon for some food. Keep it short and we’re still in with a chance of getting to Bridlington by 8:00pm. No, we’re going a little bit slower than we were due to this surprise headwind…better make our ETA 9pm. It’s ok, we’ll still be in time….just….

I wasn’t thinking about it being dark when we arrived in Bridlington at the end of our ‘Way Of The Roses In A Day Daft Ride’ – a coast-to-coast, 170 mile, Morecambe to Bridlington (mostly) road route, newly-unveiled by Sustrans. I had some lights with me anyway.

I wasn’t bothered about the expiry time of my pay and display ticket in the car, left at the end of the route at 6:30am the same day. I’d bought an all-day ticket.

I wasn’t even bothered about the fact that I left my house at 4:15am to meet Dave in Bridlington to then go to the start of the ride in Morecambe in his car. Even though my eyes were stinging a bit.

I didn’t get at all worried when Dave’s GPS packed in after 90 miles as the route was really well signposted, all the way across the very hilly first 90-odd miles through the Yorkshire Dales and the remainder of the route across the relatively flat but very twisty (and windy) 80 miles to the North Sea coast.

I was however genuinely concerned that if we didn’t keep up our quick pace and get to the end before long, the chippy would be shut. And that would have been an utter disaster.

We made it, obviously, then had a large bag of chips each on the prom.

(Then we drove back to Dave’s car, left in Morecambe 11 hours earlier; 11 hours that including stops for pasties, photos next to statues of Roman emperors and map checking.)

The Blue Pig Complete bikes are very close to being available, below are a couple of shots of the two builds we’re offering are two very competitive price points.
It’s worth keeping an eye on our Facebook pages for discussions and the latest snippets of news.

…the answer of course, is when it’s ISCG05.

I was suprised that anyone would think we would fit the old ISCG standard to our new frames (though there is a degree of sense with the old standard on steel frames as the tabs are shorter), but I can confirm that our frames are ISCG05 standard. Not ISCG.

photo courtesy of Sportsunday

I knew deep down when Shaun somehow talked me into entering this event that it was going to be a mistake. A very hilly 110 mile road sportive in the Yorkshire Dales, a week after a 24 hour solo race, was never going to be a picnic was it? It was certainly never going to be my most glorious day in the saddle anyway.

Despite last weekend’s efforts though I was feeling ok (I thought) and I was well up for it. I met up with Chris and Shaun and off we went, the pace immediately quite fast.

I was still feeling ok after a while –  a bit slower than usual on the climbs but not too bad. Coping. Weird pain in the back of my calf and my scabby hip was aching a bit but nothing too surprising so I pressed on. The weather wasn’t brilliant and we were riding into a headwind mostly – there were a few rain showers but nothing too bad.

At around 60 miles I got a puncture. I stopped to fix it but the other 2 carried on, unaware that I’d stopped. Once the bike was sorted, I started to feel weak, you know, like I was tired for some reason….

At the 70 mile feed station I was really feeling it, fatigue had crept up on me from behind…and then BLAM it hit me. Things were all different now. I was getting knackered, basically.

So rather than press on and smash myself to bits (and probably delay the planned start of my Mountain Mayhem training a bit further) I decided to stop for a bit and eat some of the corned beed sandwiches on offer. Then I dropped my pace quite a bit, riding all the climbs but not caning it.

The weather by now was getting pretty horrendous – gusting winds and horizontal, persistent rain. I carried on for ages and ages and eventually it was all over. I crossed the line about 7 and a half hours (!) after I’d set off, my average speed dropping so much in the final 40ish miles that I’d ‘achieved’ a rather ponderous 15 mph over the whole route. No matter, I’ve kick-started my Mayhem training now, all that I need is for summer to get it’s arse back into gear.