Tour of Wessex
24th May 2007
by Paul Barnes
This event is is billed as a 3 day sportive taking in 325 miles in total. Though I'm sure it would be great to put yourself through 3 days of hard riding I was limited to onay doing the first day (as the weather turned out, this was my salvation). My fellow roleurs for the day were two guys I did the Spud Riley event with last year (Jon and Colin) and a rookie named Rob.
A year on from our last sportive we are a little bit wiser as to how to get round these rides as efficiently as possible. Our strategy for the day was to ride the course as a team time trial and each take 5 min pulls on the front then dropback to suck a wheel for a while. Good plan I hear you say! Indeed it was, until the road goes sharply up.
The day had started well with terrific weather and a promising forecast for the rest of the afternoon. We all fell into line and the days work began in earnest. A fast but sustainable pace was set from the off and we quickly arrived at the fist mission of the day... the 1.7 mile climb to Alfred's Tower. With 25% gradients at the end of this little bugger it was always going to hurt. My training for this event had been planned meticulously and it was for this reason that I was shocked to the rotten core of me to find myself getting early warning twinges of cramp. How, why, God only knows but it caused me to ease off the pace considerably in order to avoid seizing up. Fortunately the first feed station was at hand at the top of the climb and a good stretch was performed.
Replenished with food and fluid we soon moved on our way. Signage was fantastic though we were all a little concerned when the route took us off the main road and on through a rough stoney path/ track that took in Stourhead House and its' estate. This was all very quintessentially English but I'll bet a fiver many folk suffered their first puncture of the day at this point. The road passed on pleasantly (though gradually upwards) out to Wells and leading the way to the second climb of the day up the Old Bristol Rd and across the tops of the Mendip Hills.
The descent to Chew Valley Lake provided a good opportunity to get a bit of air into the lungs and allowed the old legs to recover a little.This recovery was much appreciated as once you complete the descent you find yourself launched into the climb up to the Cheddar Gorge. Now, I can't really criticise the feed stations as they were well stocked with water, energy drink and lots of grub but it was the bizarre location of the second feed zone (half way up the climb to the Cheddar Gorge) that perplexed me no end. Riding through was not an option as we all had to top up our bidons and we were pedalling in pentagons as we pulled away for the remainder of the the climb.
These epic rides I think are quite often defined by what you have to overcome in a days work. If that is so, then the little bastards who removed the sign for the descent of the Cheddar Gorge would do well to keep that prank to themselves for if I ever lay my hands on them they'll think sweeping chimneys is a pleasant way to spend the afternoon. As a result, we were forced to take a 7 mile detour!! Eventually we were back on track and whizzing down the Gorge with gusto.
Things on the whole had been going quite well but it was somewhere along the Sommerset plains heading for Glastonbury that my remark about nedding to answer to the call of nature was somehow interpreted (or misinterpreted) that I was giving up the ghost and signalling the other riders to drop me so as not to sacrifice their chance of completing in a better time. After a quick pee and hurtling headlong at frantic pace I think you can imagine my dismay that I couldn't even see the other guys let alone re-join them after roughly 10 mins. The horrifying truth of the matter soon descended on me and I faced up to the fact that the remaining 30 miles to home would have to be completed as an individual time trial. Somehow, I don't think Hinault would have left it quite like that!
With adrenaline pumping I steamed along with such verve that I completely forgot about the last climb of the day up round Glastonbury Tor. Any worries of cramp evaporated and I made rapid work of the Tor dropping riders left right and centre and pushing on to home. Strangely enough the organisers of the day saw fit to put in another feed zone (nice thought) but situated with only 16 miles to go. I crossed the timing mat in 6 hrs, 36 mins which ensured that I had acheived my goal of completing the 100 miles in under 8 hrs.
Plenty of wine was washed down in celebration that evening on a wonderful night out in Bath, and if at all possible I would really like to do this ride again next year. It was very well organised and you constantly felt reassured by the presence of support riders flying up and down. There was a good mix of riders present with a lot of female interest in the ride this year as a lot of Tri clubs apparently were using the event as a training session.
Even though I was happy with my time I can't help but feel that for some reason I'd left my best climbing legs at home this time. The great Louison Bobet once claimed that "cycling is a constant lesson in humility", after today I understand what he meant.
Part 2: The Polka Dot Challenge
