I thought I'd try and go fast (by my standards) - I was feeling confident on the hills and I was tired of writing ride reports in which I repeatedly get dropped. I thought I'd try to get round in under 12 hours.
There were a few racers out, with a largish bunch from the Cardiff Ajax. They shot off on the first climb out of Tongwynlais. The usual Audax Cymru suspects (together with Andy Seviour and Mark Houlford, who are probably honorary members by now) had ridden the Plynlimon Polka, another 2-point 200, the previous day, so I hoped to get round ahead of them or at least not get dropped by them. I passed them on the climb, Simon caught me half way up, and we passed one of the Ajax who seemed to be riding very silly gears for a hilly ride. A quick descent of Wernddu, up to Maenllwyd, and then up to the top of Ochrwyth - Simon was well ahead here. Up through the post-industrial valley towns of Risca and Pontywaun, and then the serious climbing began. Steep, long hills, with a wall of conifers the other side of the valley; up the top, dodging sheep. Considering that this was once a heavily industrialised area it's pretty stunning - open, switchback moorland and deep forested valleys. I was more or less matching Simon now, keeping the speed up as we approached the top of the British itself. This is a notorious ascent, but it's a lot more fun as a fast descent; I had to take to the grass to pass a tractor at one point.
A brief stop at the first control - Sandra Shaw's mum does delicious muffins - and we left just as Chris Hatcher arrived. I was surprised to see Chris so soon - he's a strong rider on the flat and downhill, but he's some 95kg of muscle which means that he's carrying two bikes-worth of extra weight up each hill compared with me. Up past the old ironworks out of Blaenavon, over more open hills, and then onto Mynydd Llangynidr, a long drag up the lee of an escarpment. Once over the other side, a very fast descent passing a car and a truck, a brief uphill, and another plummet with the Black Mountains in the distance - around here we were passed by a rider going the other way wearing a King of the Mountains jersey.
It's the end of the climbing for a while here; we spun along on lanes beside the Monmouthshire and Brecon Canal to the cafe control. Chris and another rider joined us, and then we were down to three again, following lanes at the base of the Brecon Beacons with views of the tall, bare mountains including Pen-y-fan to our left. Here, I went off course for the first time ever, leading the other two up an unnecessary climb and into a car park! We only did a couple of extra kilometres. The pace increased a bit and it began to get seriously hot. On the climb up Cwm Senni Chris dropped back and Simon went ahead to catch a group including George Baugh. I decided to ease off the pace a little to prepare for the Devil's Elbow, which I knew was quite a climb. It still took me a bit by surprise when I got to it: there's something unnerving about starting a climb and seeing another rider riding in the opposite direction almost vertically above. By now the sun was scorching through my Factor 25 sunblock; I settled into a rhythm and plugged away out of the saddle in my 24x26. I felt as if I was in a sauna - or in the Devil's Armpit, as this hill is sometimes alternatively known. Ahead, another rider (who has promised me a pint of beer if I don't reveal his name) was walking the last few metres; I didn't seem to be catching him riding at 5kph.
One thing about going that slowly is that you have time to admire the view. It was stunning: hedges and stone walls dividing a broad panorama of irregularly shaped small fields and woods, with the vast upland of Mynydd Eppynt miles away in the distance. Over the top and down the shallow side of the escarpment. The roads in this wild upland landscape were lined with day trippers' parked cars; there were even people who had their picnic tables and umbrellas beside the stream. A quick stop in the pub, and we were off; I was still going strongly and passed a couple of riders on the climbs, though I got dropped on one. Down towards Hirwaun, and then we were climbing steadily past Tower Colliery - Wales' only remaining deep coal mine, saved in a workers' buyout - towards the Rhigos escarpment. There's a long and relatively shallow approach to the Rhigos where we caught George again and I kept the speed up; and then we got onto the climb itself. It's not that steep but it is long; the faster riders went away again, but I was pretty pleased with how well I was climbing. I had time to discuss the view with Ian Hennessy, who was acting as roving support and unofficial photographer, as I passed him.
Over the top, the others had stopped at the ice cream van; I decided to press on on the assumption that they'd catch me on the Bwlch. Down a long descent into the top of the Rhondda Valley, I realised that it was very painful to sit on my saddle. As I rode through the towns of Treherbert and Treorchy, I discovered that any attempt to ride hard seated meant sharp pains in my buttock muscles with each pedal stroke. I stopped, stretched, tried walking for a bit; started up towards the Bwlch, site of the highest Mr Whippy van in Wales, and realised that it wasn't going to go away. I could just about climb out of the saddle, but I couldn't climb seated. I wasn't going to get round another 60km like this. Reluctantly, I decided I'd have to pack (like going off course, something I've never done before) and get the train back to Cardiff.
I was very frustrated - particularly when the pain had more or less gone by the time I got off the train. Now, of course, I'm kicking myself for not just stopping for an hour in a caff and waiting for the pain to get less - I'd probably still have got round in time.
Chris and Simon got round in 12 hours, which was the time I was aiming for. I'm trying to persuade Dave to run it as a permanent so that I can have another crack at it.
I learnt a lot on this ride:
1. PSP-22 (maltodextrin drink) with a pinch of Bio-salt, alternated with
plenty of water is a more effective fuel than Isostar, pots of tea and
plates of beans on toast.
2. More to the point, for anyone on my wheel, it doesn't make me fart.
3. Short control stops without eating too much makes it easier to get going
again (I've always known this in theory, I've just been too lazy or
gluttonous to get straight back on the bike).
4. Fig rolls make less mess and are easier to eat than bananas.
5. I need a lot more practice on climbing long hills seated, and I ought to
alternate between seated and standing even if the steepness of the hill
doesn't seem to merit it.
6. The most important lesson: if I put my mind to it (and practise lessons
1-5), I can ride long distances faster than I thought.
Tom Barrance