Having successfully completed the Etape du Tour in 2008 thoughts have since turned to further challenges. How can you eclipse such an iconic event? Very difficult, but a group of Border City Wheelers riders sat down and considered the challenge of the C2C, riding from Whitehaven to Sunderland, in a single day. Now, whilst I realise this has been done before, for me this does represent a challenge. The distance is some 135 miles, and the climbing is incessant and vicious. And for me this goes beyond previous experiences - I have never done over 200km in a single day, let alone gone to work the following morning. Yes, this does seem a worthy challenge.
The big problem with the C2C (apart from riding it) is in the logistics. Having reached the North Sea, how does one get back? So we sat down and made ‘arrangements’. Transport for up to a dozen riders and their bikes was sorted, a support car was set up, complete with food, drink, spare parts and a willing driver. OK, let’s do it.
After much discussion we arrived on Sunday August 18th as the only free weekend available. This was not auspicious. Last year, this same weekend produced some dire, almost wintry weather as we braved the north Pennines on a long, cold and wet cycling weekend. After my experiences at the Etape, and various other weather-sodden sportives this summer I have to say I was expecting the worst. Even the BBC weather team seemed to support this pessimistic outlook. We all loaded a full change of clothing into the support car. At least we were used to this sort of easy riding.
7am on Whitehaven harbour, on a damp cool Sunday morning in August. There are probably a number of other places I would normally choose to be. No matter, our loins were girded for what lay ahead. The team gathered, 6 of us from BCW (Mike, Paul, Pete, Kev, Anthony and myself) plus four Honister 92 lads. Shortly before 7.30 we could no longer think of any reason to delay the inevitable so we rolled on out. The C2C ride had begun.
As it turned out, we were blessed. Within 3 miles or so the sun was breaking through the heavy rainclouds, and it was to stay with us pretty much the rest of the day. Should have brought the sunblock! We were not so lucky with punctures. The first one brought us to a halt within a mile of the start. And not long after, as we rode out on the cycletrack toward Cleator Moor we succumbed to punctures 2 and 3 - together! Fortunately, that was as bad as it got.
The route took us ever east, heading inland and through the glorious Lake District, all the more glorious in the early morning sunshine. Soon we were tackling the first major climb, Whinlatter, before sweeping down into Keswick where the tourists were beginning to gather. Then it was on to Penrith and our first café stop of the day. Imagine our surprise when the Club Sunday ride turned up. Imagine their surprise, come to that.
Our numbers swelled for the long climb to the summit of Hartside, high on the Pennine chain. At 1903 feet it is not the highest point of the ride, but the climb is certainly the longest. And in the heat of the morning it was a sweaty climb. But the views were magnificent. It made a pleasant change to ride the climb without feeling the need to bust a gut - this is the scene of our annual open hill-climb time trial and there is precious little opportunity to take in the scenery when you are desperately trying for a PB.
At the summit we regrouped for the fantastic descent into Alston, reputedly England’s highest market town, where we faced a tricky climb through the market place which is cobbled. Our very own version of the Tour of Flanders? Well, maybe not, but hard on the tyres all the same. Now we were in the Pennines proper, with short steep climbs coming thick and fast. Nenthead was next, then over the moors and the highest part of the entire route to Allenheads and our next café stop. By now we had less than 50 miles to go, but there were still some hard climbs to overcome. Out of Allenheads, the road climbs steeply out of Northumberland and into County Durham before a lovely fast descent down to Stanhope and our last rendezvous with the team car.
One last climb remained, the awesomely horrific Crawleyside Bank. It was every bit as horrific as I remembered, 17% and relentlessly long. The legs were screaming as we crawled our way onto the moors. But at last it was over and I knew that it was (pretty well) downhill all the way. The C2C now follows the Waskerly Way, a disused railway line across the moors to Consett. Now the old mountain biking skills came to the fore as the track was decidedly off-road in style. And with so much rain having fallen that morning, it was muddy too.
From Consett, it was more off road stuff before common sense prevailed and we resorted to tarmac, eschewing the blue C2C signs in favour of a faster, smoother route to Sunderland. With a slight tail wind we began to enjoy the last 30 miles, with our peloton reaching speeds in excess of 30mph. And then we saw the sea. Wow, we were almost there. "I can smell it" Kev exclaimed - but then he is a Sunderland fan.
Shortly after 6.15 we rolled into Roker and out to the beach past the port. The North Sea at last, some 210 kilometres and the neck end of 4000 metres of climbing behind us. My saddle time was around 8 hours and 45 minutes, and my backside knew it! It had been a tough old ride, and the legs were decidedly tired. We dipped our tyres into the sea and enjoyed a beer or two as the bikes were loaded on to the trailer for the long drive back to Cumbria, stopping only for fish and chips to satisfy a growing hunger. The C2C was behind us and we could revel in our achievement. Well done one and all.