I'd had a fairly good night's sleep only waking when the rain started hammering down outside at about 1am. Up at 5am I started ramming porridge and poached eggs down my throat, determined to make sure I had enough fuel onboard for the first 50-60miles or so.
We got to St James' Park just after 7am. I know dad was chirping away to me as we walked under the Milburn Stand to main reception but to be brutally honest, I'm not too sure what he was saying. I was too busy walking through the route in my head, where food stops were and where the main challenges for the day would be. After a quick pose for a photo (note the look of fear) I was ready to go.
I headed off through the quiet city centre and headed off to the Tyne Bridge. The traffic was solid but I nipped in and out of the queues. It felt odd crossing the river. Only yesterday I was running across the bridge with 50000 other runners cheered on by hundreds of people. Today, it was a completely different bridge.
Once off the bridge, I headed towards the flyover which would take me onto Durham Road and through Gateshead....and thats where the first mishap took place. Dropping down to the smaller gear the chain flipped off and sat limp...similar to what happened to Andy Schleck in this year Tour de France only in a more glamorous location. I quickly got the chain back on with minimal fuss and as I pushed off I noticed blood dripping from my thumb. Somehow (and I still don't know how I did it) I had sliced my thumbnail open. With dad still way back in the centre of Newcastle stuck in traffic I had to just keep going.
Once through Gateshead I was in my rhythm and felt fine. But I was aware that the wind was whipping around from the West...basically right across me. Not as bad as a full on head wind but it was still a struggle. Dad eventually went past me in Birtley and I signalled that I need 1st Aid which was duelly given.
And from there it was a relatively pleasant ride through to Thirsk. The A167 from Chester le Street was a fairly straight forward road to negotiate with a few steep climbs and some lovely downhill stretches. But it was on one of the climbs close to Spennymoor that I saw the most bizarre thing I have seen for a long time. A man was walking towards me in full Ancient Greek warrior costume (yup including the "skirt"). I couldn't help but stare. He just looked at me as said "Morning!". It was like what he was wearing was completely normal.
Heading into North Yorkshire I arrived at Northallerton and then a bit further on, Thirsk. So far, the ride was being broken up into nice little segments of cycling...but that was about to change. from Thirsk I headed onto the A19 to York. This was 22 miles of complete hell. The road surface for the majority of the ride down to York was appaling. The vibration through the bike was making me ache and with the wind swirling round, it was making for a very unpleasant ride.
York was an absolutely joy once I got there. Getting back into an urban setting where it was stop start stop was refreshing. But I didn't have time to admite the architecture etc. I was bang on schedule and wanted to push on. Unfortunately, the road down to Selby was just a bad as the road to York, and the wind was getting stronger. I knew that if I could get to Selby and then turn off towards Goole I would be fine as I would have a strong tailwind.
I had a food stop near Selby where dad was waiting for me. I felt awful as he was getting stern 1 word answers from me but my mind was firmly fixed on what was coming up. I had got to 90 miles and wanted to press on. I could see the huge Drax power station and the quite obvious torrential rain that surrounded it...and I was heading that way.
On the road to Goole my expected tailwind never materialised. The wind seemed to be gusting in from every direction! The drivers were mentalists giving me no room. The road surface was worse than anything I had experienced before. Basically I was complaining about everything. However, I had reached the 100mile mark...a huge milestone. Dad had told me that he would wait for me south of Goole (all along the route, dad was driving ahead of me and waiting at spots by the road to make sure I was ok). That seemed a long way away. It wasn't but it felt it.
On the way to Goole I got blown off the bike. Nothing serious. Just got a bit buffetted as a truck went past and ended up going into the verge...luckily there was no curb. And then I thought I'd missed a turning and added several miles onto my journey which did all sorts of things to my head. I was starting to think more and more negatively and couldn't snap myself out of it.
And then I get the phone call from dad.
Dad: I'm lost
Me: But you've got all the maps...and the sat nav.
D: I know but I've taken a wrong turn and ended up somewhere in Goole and I don't know how to use your sat nav.
Me: What can you see?
D: I'm parked by the sports centre.
Me: Wait there.
So I turned off my route and headed into Goole, with no idea of where I was going. I eventually found him and sorted the sat nav out. I'm quite pleased that happened as it was a healthy distraction.
But what was becoming more and more apparent was the pain in my back, hips and bum! The wind was getting stronger, the roads from Goole to Gainsborough and then to Lincoln was long drags with very little in the way of scenery. Looking out west the countryside was featureless and flat. Just farm land and nothing to act as a barrier from the wind.
It was becoming painful and not enjoyable and as a result not very interesting. The only saving grace was the road was virtually flat. And then I saw it, Lincoln Cathedral, perched onto of a hill like a beacon saying "You've only got THIS far to go". Lovely, but I had little left in the tank and couldn't pedal any fast than I could.
So, here I am. Sat in my room at the hotel in Lincoln. I've covered 159miles (a little less than anticipated thanks to dad working out a slightly shorter (and safer) route this morning. I've soaked in an ice cold bath which has helped my legs. I'm feeling tired and apprehensive tonight but looking forward to the ride down to London. Dad has done a quick calculation and thinks it should be about 132miles.
I'm absolutely goosed so I'm going to call it a day and head for bed!!
Until next time..
Keep it going Jamie.. Give the Gates at Upton Park a salute from me. Elain
ReplyDeleteWhere did you get the ice from? do you have to pre-order it?
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