A BAD START

Normally I like to prep all the organisers stuff on Wednesday, and prep my own stuff on Thursday / Friday as running the brevet doubles the nerves as you not only have to remember your own stuff but everyone else's.

Wednesday I was waylaid with something and Thursday I left my laptop at work so I couldn't prep the cards etc.

Took me about 2 hours to get the damn printer to work on Friday so didn't have time for my usual bagging and tagging - but with the rider numbers dropping from 16 to 13, I opted to get my own stuff ready knowing I'd be able to do everything at sign on.

Woke, breakfast and in the car before my eyes were open.  As I crossed a speed bump I heard a bang but just assumed it was the bag of bottles in my boot bouncing but when I got to the bottom of the lane I noticed a distinct lack of bike on my boot!  Turned out in my haste the night before I'd forgotten to actually strap it. 

Everything looked miraculously OK but at the start it turned out both tubes had blown and one tyre was blown.  (+ the new rear lamp cover that I'd just replaced after throwing the bike into a ravine was gone).  (+ a lost bottle).

Thanks to the guys who mucked in and helped with the sign on's and apologies that the route sheets, pens and zip bags were not as organised as I would like them to be. 

Also B & Q has moved - which might have confused one or two!

Anyway, once I'd allowed Conor to cycle up and down the Boucher road a couple of times - I gave a brief and un-prepared speech and everyone was off.  15 minutes later I was climbing Divis into the dawn thinking things aren't so bad after all.   Caught up with John but then just at the foot of the descent punctured!

This was 1 mile from my house - so the temptation was huge - but I changed the tube (now down to one) and hoped for the best.  I had no further punctures all day.

 

A GREAT DAY

 

Once the drama was over I had a pleasant days cycling in great company.  Skipped my customary croissant and coffée in Carrick to make up an bit of time and was soon clipping along with a couple of John's, a Richard - who was spreading his punctures and mechanicals through the day rather than getting them over early like me.

Spot of rain when Richard made the mistake of taking off his jacket, attracting two farmers. Other than that a perfect autumn day with slight headwind (and welcome "pousse a dos" - my favourite French expression - on the return). 

Opted for the seafood chowder in McBrides, Cushendun, which was excellent and helped me over the Torr trying to outrun either the hound or Richard, who again was using his special 4X4 + farmer +  trailer magnetism, on the last climb.

The loop out to Coleraine was surprisingly rolling on the way - I think there must have been some earthquakes or maybe its part of Brexit because I don't remember any of those climbs from the previous five times I've ridden the route.  Hopefully they'll be gone again before next year.

Signs of randonneurs were everywhere back in Ballycastle with the garage attendant handing out multiple receipts and cycles and cyclists in various states of repair.  I grabbed a sandwich and a wrap for 'ron and dressed for the night.

I left with Darran and Richard, who had just smugly removed a cassette with a "Next Best Thing" and fitted a new spoke in about ten minutes, for one of the nicest ascents to the vanishing lake I've done.

We then re-grouped at the aqueduct for what for me is the best climb in the world (that I've done) - Slievnorra.  400m vertical and about 14km in length, it starts off gently, as a sharp bit with scary geese and then a lovely gentle ride around the edge of a Forest with spectacular views all the way.  Dusk is an ideal time with the tinge of orange all around.

As I had warned - the temperature dropped at night but I was smugly warm in my ever increasing amount of Autumnal clothing.   I grew ravenous into Broughshane but my stash of chicken wraps did the trick - despite me spilling half a chicken tikka.

The Collin road was a painful as ever - but once over that its downhill all the way to the finish -  Richard and I swapping a Darran for a William on the way.  Belfast city centre was busy but no banter.  The Malone road was much hillier than usual.  Back at Boucher I rode through KFC's finest drive through, ate more chicken than is natural and wrapped myself in a sleeping bag.

 

THE FINISH

Half the riders seem to have come in around 9:30 and most of the rest came in around the same time as me.

John (Mc Elroy) roused me out of a deep sleep at an unknown time but he must have tucked me in again because his card was signed and he'd gone by the time I woke properly. 

Conor was lantern rouge just before two, which, with a couple of DNF's with body and bike mechanicals accounted for all of the riders so I could return home without worry. 

I thank them both for letting me know promptly and encourage all to do the same.

 

NEXT YEAR

Subject to the workings of AI, CI and ACP - none of which should be an issue, the Antrim 300 will be back next year in its traditional slot of 1'st weekend in October.

I may CHANGE THE ROUTE next year slightly to include the "dark hedges" - which I have never seen either on screen or in life but seem to be a popular attraction.

Thanks for listening!

Big thanks to Dave for organising a great event.  Great food and great route with some spectacular views.

Best section for me was the bumps between Kingscourt and Baileborough.  Lovely scenery.

When I woke in the morning I was wondering what I was doing up at 5:30 on a Sunday morning with a ninety mile drive and two hundred kilometres of cycling ahead of me.

But when I walked out to the car all the sun was rising, it felt warm, the birds were singing and I knew it was going to be a great day – and it was.

By quarter to eight I’d had two coffees, a pecan slice and was signed on ready to go.  With more than sixty entrants this was a large turnout for a Brevet.

So, the start was fast with a large group rattling away at unlawful speed.

Luckily a mechanical, rear gear cable just came out at the derailleur, saw me off the group. 

 

I joined with some familiar riders but yet another mechanical just before the first control saw me off the back.  This one was a bit more embarrassing.  Post PBP I re-fitted a 50 chain ring on the front for winter club rides.  I didn’t put any links back in the chain but knew not to use the 50/30 combination.  Of course, I’d forgotten this and it pulled my wheel out and locked it!

Silly boy.

First stop at 50 km was well stocked.  I cleaned my hands, ate, ate some more and then pushed on.

No major events on the next stretch.  Was caught and joined a group of 8 or so and we pushed along pretty steadily.  Aiden suggested my rear mudguard was rubbing so I stopped and had a look.  Was my rear light wire.  I was expecting issues around here as the bottom stay has become dethatched from the guard.  Nothing to worry about though.  Just requires yet another SKS mudguard – I seem to get through one a year.

Second stop was unmanned but plenty of garage forecourt!

Again I grouped up with six of us pushing hard (for me anyway) to the last control at 160km, with Dave providing yet more food.

For the last stretch I declined the group as I knew I’d not be able to sustain the pace and with Tara and its steeper successor on the path there was little likelihood of us staying together.

I think I’ve only been over Tara once before on the Carlingford 300 a few years back, and it was dark.  So it was nice to be able to see some of the large potholes at the bottom of the descent.

I eventually got back to Ashbourne in OK state.  I was happy with my first 200 of the year but a long way off my fitness of last year.  The extra 3 bags of sugar, or more accurately pints of beer, around my waste aren’t helping either!

Although it’s early in June, having blown some points away at REK and about to blow a lot more helping @MF I wanted to get my RRTY ride in asap.  I intend to do “Around Down” at the end of the month, a DNS or DNF would scupper my RRTY.

The short story

The Little Carlingford is a picturesque route.  It’s moderately challenging with a couple of climbs around Carlingford, some rolling hills between Stanmullen and Dunleer and the opportunity of a good sea breeze along the coast.  The controls have plenty of shops for both a sit down meal or a sandwich.  (Note stopped at the first shop on the way into Clogherhead, which had a sandwich counter, the garage/shop on way out seemed to have seats outside under shelter – so might be a better bet).

This was my first permanent.  The flexible start time and location really suits.  Sometimes its nice to ride alone as you can go at your own pace and please yourself at controls etc.  Sometimes it would be nice to do with company as 11 hours is quite a long time.

The Long Story

On Strava http://www.strava.com/activities/151116288

The Carlingford 300 was a breakthrough ride for me in 2013.  It was the first brevet I completed (relatively) comfortably without hours of lone painful soul searching.  I was able to ride with a group for most of the way round and I was not the “lantern rouge”.

In 2014 I was unable to ride again due to holidays.  So, when Marc announced a 200Km permanent version it was an obvious choice for me.  Also, the ability to start from any control meant I could start at Dunleer, a mere hours drive away.  It would also allow me to test Marc’s new route for him.

I got an electronic route sheet and stuffed it into excel and moved stuff about to give Dunleer start and distances from Dunleer.  If you don’t trust your Garmin, and who would, then this allows you to follow the route sheet without all that adding 55km, or whatever, in your head.

Saturday (08/06):

mrsm: Do you want me to get you some beers in for tonight.

me: no – I’m getting up early to go cycling tomorrow.

mrsm: another event? 

me: No – just myself.

Later that evening:

me: I’m going to the off license?

mrsm: why?  I thought you weren’t drinking?

me: that’s much easier to say at one than to do at eight!

However, I did make it to bed by 10 and was up and out the door by 5:30 – not bad.

Held up getting coffee in the Lisburn McDrive through – so didn’t get started until 6:50.  All the shops were, of course, closed, but I there is a bank machine.  Unfortunately it was refusing to give receipts due to a technical issue – so I took a picture and got started.

 

Apart from the drabness of Dundalk bypass, the trip out to Carlingford is pretty stunning.  Strong headwinds were brutal but luckily there are some hills for shelter on the way.

In Carlingford I was sucked straight into a Café for some fried delights.  Time ticked on.  Then back over the hills to Dundalk, where not only was it still grey but the heavens really opened.

I then fought my way down the coast into a strong South Westerly.  Marc had told me to pop in and, although I had declined, I decided to see if he was around anyway, as I had not had a conversation with anyone other than my dog that day – and that was 10 hours before.

We had a chat and I stayed longer than I should so texted mrsm with my new approx. arrival time.  Arrived back in Dunleer at 6pm, back home by 7.

The cold air brought me round with a jolt.  The sky was blurry, blossom blocking the suns feeble attempts to bring light to the enchanting land.  I reached to put quiet to the manufactured noise that was shattering natures dawn chorus with its technical squawking.  The timer was red with –10 written in the middle.  Memories of an earlier cacophony faded in and out.  I wonder if those Android geeks had envisaged an oversleeping audaxer when they added the auto-snooze to the timer.

I silenced it and rolled off the picnic bench.  Sally was waiting faithfully, leaning against the table, neither eager or reluctant to continue but she tempted me non the less with her soft contoured seat and reliable charm.

I pushed her through the gravel car park that I had entered just fifty minutes earlier to the black road without.

As I resumed my climb I began to shiver, but I knew that with my waterproof on I’d be sweating soon enough.

Ahead I saw a figure emerge into the verge of the road.  He pulled a large object from the hedge and tinkered with it.  Red and white cut the dark.  I was not alone.

More...

Alan: “Hello… how bout that ride in? I guess thats why they call it Sin City Carlow.

You guys might not know this but I consider myself a bit of a loner. I tend to think of myself as a one man wolf pack. But when my sister brought Doug home I met Olivier on the Virginia 300, I knew he was one of my own. And my wolf pack, it grew by one. So there… there was two of us in the wolf pack. I was alone first in the pack and Doug Dave joined in later. And six months ago, when Doug  Olivier introduced me to you guys HelenI thought “wait a second, could it be?” And now I know for sure, I just added two more guys to my wolf pack. Four of us wolves, running around the desert together in Las Vegas Ireland, looking for strippers Mullingar and cocaine.” – The Hangover

 

This was my first Fleche and, thanks to great weather and company, I really enjoyed it.  Possibly my most enjoyable middle distance ride.

Olivier and Helen were great company and the team worked really well.

 

More...

This was my first time on this ride. It was a busy event - probably the most riders I've seen on an Audax Ireland ride but the support provided by the organisers was excellent. A perfect ride for the many attempting their first 200km and pretty perfect for me too.

Three breakfasts and a medal

I headed down on the early bus and arrived central Dublin 05:40.  I probably could have caught the later bus but that would have meant tearing out to Bray.  Some pretty heavy rain on the way out but I was expecting this.

I arrived Bray around 7 – just as a café was opening.  It seemed rude not to stop for coffee and a Danish.

Tony passed as I was leaving and I road to the clubhouse with him where yet more food and coffee was awaiting.  As an added bonus, Paul had found the SR medal he had definitely posted to me.

Bray clubhouse brought back some memories of the Red Lane but I’m trying not to let post traumatic stress disorder ruin my day.

Let the rain begin

I left in the lead group bang on eight and chatted a bit with Olivier and Helen about our Fleche plans.  The pace was fast with some club riders on the front.  Just short of Arkclow I punctured and kissed goodbye to my fast tow for the day.

As I changed the tube it began to rain so I kept my plastic gloves on and donned my rain jacket. 

I continued on to the first control, joined by (Mick?) who had also had puncture issues.  With no guards he looked to be having a miserable time in the heavy rain – but he seemed happy enough. 

Control was manned, well manned, with cakes.

As I was leaving, Dave, Eddie and Aiden pulled in so I waited for them giving me a chance to talk to Dave about our Fleche route and Eddie about our French BRM.

Lunch brightens the day.

 

Towards Ardattin Eddie took us up the bonus hill, and it was worth it.

The weather brightened and we took in soup and sandwiches at the Ardattin Inn. 

A gentle afternoon

The afternoon stayed dry and we made gentle progress, stopping for ice creams at a garage.  Last control soon arrived as did the clubhouse where yet more food was on offer.

Long way back to Dublin

 

On the way out I'd planned a route but on the way back I just banged my destination into the Garmin and followed it. Mistake. Added in an extra 10km and found 300m of climbing and managed to miss the 9:30 bus.

 

Lessons

Don’t trust Garmin routing.

Last year this was my first ever 300.  It must have been tough as as the only thing I remember was the start, frozen water bottles, being passed just after Virginia by a group who had stopped for a pub lunch, and Olivier buying enough fig biscuits to feed the 500.

Also, last year I broke down on the way home and had to cycle from the garage where the AA dropped off my car to home in the snow @ 6am in the morning.

This year was different.  Despite the hillier route, I managed a reasonable time and had company most of the way round.

The start moved to Slane – which only took me an hour and a quarter to drive to so, having left the house @ 3:45 I was there an hour early.  I had had an early night, for once so wasn’t too tired.

I think there was 35 at the start, compared with a dozen for the same event last year.

There was a lot of hillage from the off, so as I suspected the group were spread. 

Olivier, with gears, some sliding, joined me.  The sunrise revealed lush green rolling landscape.  Towards the North we picked up another group of riders, including Brian who had a broken rear derailleur cable.  Didn’t seem to be slowing him down though.  I relayed to him via his companions that I had a spare that he gratefully fitted in Castleblainey.  I was glad to be rid of the weight.

The group sped up towards the first control, but it was early and I’m wise to such moves so, knowing I would easily catch the group at the next control, I stopped for a call of nature.

 

Café Castleblaney

At Castleblney I refuelled on bacon and sausage bap and a much needed coffee.

From there I left with Conor (who I hadn’t seen since Midlands Miander), Olivier, Barry (not the same one as Kings Mountain), Mick, John and (briefly) Marcello (I think).

We pretty much shared the work into pretty strong wind.

The sun came out and I realised that all the clothes I was carrying were pretty much dead weight.

Towards Belturbet, where we planned lunch, the road started to roll a bit.  Again, I let the guys go, but this time they took a wrong turn and were with me again shortly after. 

Lunch was soup and toasties all round.

Next sections to control @Mohill (163Km) and @Termonbarry (193Km) were pretty much the same.  Into the wind, dropped off the last few km before control.  At Mohill I ate my pasta.  At Termonbarry I just stopped briefly to sign Brévet and continued.  With the wind on my back there was not much to be gained from the group and I wanted to go my own pace for a while.

Olivier passed me an hour or so later, he offered me his wheel but I declined.

Nearly caught up to him on the climb to Granard, but that was the last I saw of him as I stopped for Chips and Curry in the chippy from where I watched John and Barry pass.  I kitted up for the night.

I caught them @Virginia control (262Km) where they were eating.  Virginia was much bigger than I remember.  Conor and Mick rolled in as we were leaving having, like me, stopped at Granard.

John, Barry and I set off together.  I was feeling strong and well fed.  We hit the potholes round about 285Km.  Barry had a flat.  Conor and Mick caught up with us and we rolled in together just after 10pm.

300Km is always going to be a long way, and, of course I had a couple of low points, but I am beginning to see them coming a bit more and take appropriate action, like eating or easing off.

I was probably carrying way too much spare clothing – in fact I had to hitch my softshell to the top of my Carrdice, but Ireland in March is not usually so warm and dry so I figure better to carry more than less.

All in all – for me - much better than last year

They say your mind forgets the bad bits – I rode this last year and the only things I remember was crossing the Boyne with Marc and Marc steaming past me on the last stretch.

This year I remember more.  To stop people getting cold, we set off a bit early as it was raining and a windy.

As we left Dublin we split up in the wind.  Rather than chase, I held back and soon was in a group of 6 or so sharing the load nicely.  Just before the first stop I tagged onto a faster moving group who were passing.  This was a mistake as I was dropped shortly after.

Stopped for coffee and a bun at Ballivor, and then set off again.  Picked up a bigger group and tagged along with them for a while.  The weather cheered up and soon we were clipping along nicely in brisk sunshine.

Shortly after Clonmellon it got a bit lumpy and I lost the group but re-found Barry who I’d met earlier.  He had decided not to kill his legs so early in the day either – like we had a choice.

Took my jacket off at Oldcastle before passing through a big puddle at Kings mountain, quick sandwich at Kells and then on into the evening.

 

After a quick stop at Ashbourne for water and chocolate, finished around 8pm – quick chat and back to the airport for a pint and my bus.

Certainly a lot less painful than last year and nice weather to boot.  Good to meet a few new faces too.

A nice interesting route.  I was glad to have carried a spare set of clothes with me.  RRTY month one complete.

The ride down!

Actually I didn't ride down - in a change of tactic I decided to get the Air Coach to Dublin Airport.

In a classic start to the day I rode down to the Coach stop @5am – stood around for a while and then, noticing there was no one else, realised I was on the wrong street.

Moved to the right street, coach arrived and I put my bike in the hold.  As you can see from the track, I forgot to reset my gps – but it was paused so the totals are correct.

Within ten minutes or so I was asleep.

To the start

Arrived Dublin T2.  Journey to Whitehall church was simple enough and I managed not to get lost.  Arrived @ start with plenty of time and not as tired as usual, which was good.

I was surprised to see 40 or so other riders – I thought there would be ten at most!

To Skerries

There was a quick tour of Dublin.  The fools let me navigate for a while but it was good to get a stint at the front with fresh legs and the stop start of Dublin ensuring nothing was too fast.

When we turned around the back of the airport (2’nd visit of the day) towards St. Margarets we felt the full blast of the winds gusting to 35mph.

Luckily it was fairly sheltered from there on and I hung on to the front group, using my usual tactic of sticking with the pack to the first control.

I stopped for a call of nature just short of Skerries.  When I got in and got my coffee and bun, the pack was about to leave.  I knew I wasn’t fit to continue at their pace so I let them go. 

To Drogheda

Marc K and Aidan C were around so we set off together.

Shortly after the heavens opened and the wind was cutting us it to.  We elected to stop and shelter but saw nowhere suitable so drove on.

The shower was brief as the clouds were moving rapidly in the string winds that were now alternately buffeting us from the side or slapping us in the face.

We lost Marc somewhere along the way.  When we got to Drogheda, I suggested a McDonalds which would be quick and dry.  It was very busy bit we were in and out in half an hour or so.

To Slane

We continued up the coast.  I found this hard going as the wind was really annoying and the stretch to Castlebellingham was the low point for me.

However, when we got there we spotted Marc in a cosy looking café by a log fire.  We joined him and were soon joined by others.

A quick coffee and some warmth cheered us and we set off with four or five in the group for Slane.  We had turned so the wind was, if not with us, not completely against us.

The road became a bit lumpy too – which I prefer.

At about 3pm the heavens opened.  I made the call to “cape up”, and it was a good one.  Rain, hail and sleet followed.

In Slane’s chippy we feasted and I changed into dry clothes.  I think I could have got a couple of hundred Euros for my dry gloves.

On to Dublin

We faffed a while before leaving.  We had one GPS between 4.  Turned out that was out of charge so we went off route a bit.  I hadn’t bothered to put batteries in my head torch.  Marc decided to drive into a hole while pressing buttons on his GPS and punctured

I connected up my battery pack and Marc rebooted his and we were back in business.

I’d forgotten how nice a night ride could be and, with a tailwind, we made good progress back to Dublin.  Probably the nicest section of the day.

 

I got to the start, set off and about 60km in my rear wheel was hitting both chain stays.  I tried adjusting with some cone spanners but no joy.

Rode to Drogheda, got the train to Malahide (Dublin trains had bus substitution) and rode back to car.

My wheel had been wobbling before and I did strip and replace the bearings, grease etc. but was not entirely satisfied with the conditions of the bearing race on the left side.  I suspect it may have given way.