Anglesey is flat isn't it?

At some point in December last year, a meeting was convened discussing the idea of a weekend trip away. We could rent a house take the bikes and relive some days gone by on the Lejog trip. 

As it was, we found a sportive on Anglesey called the Tour De Mon. Which is a complete lap of the Island in the Irish Sea just off the north west coast of mainland Wales.   As an added bonus it also had a Travelodge where we had spent most of our nights on LEJOG and it felt like a kind of fate. 

Places and hotel booked by the increasingly internet savvy Mr P and August 17th was pencilled in the diary. 

Glory days

Setting out in the van however something was missing. A misadventure involving a game of fetch and a turn of speed so dazzling it would have left Luis Suarez dizzy resulted in one of the three team members being unable to make it. 

This was obviously noted when arriving at the travelodge to see three perfectly made up beds as opposed to the double and couch we had managed on for Lejog. Without going back over too much ground it just didn't feel quite right. There would be no issue over the morning bath duration, I made the tea, my stuff was neat in the corner! At least my bike was in the room to add a degree of normality however the pedals were attached and missing a shoe. 

It has to be said it was quite nostalgic and thoroughly enjoyable just for that. 

The event 

Registration was completed on the Saturday evening, when the town had its first undercoat applied, and was a very efficient process. Number for front, timing chip for seat post, wristband for food stops and some freebies and off we went. 

Wandering around to the start and there was a fair degree of food, drinks and shops available plus a bike museum where Mike and I rembered some of our bikes of yesteryear. In particular the Raleigh Chopper and it's careful positioning of the gear lever to reap maximum havoc on a teenage boy who applied the brakes too eagerly. 

This was not either of our first bikes

Now a couple of blokes away for the weekend and Holyhead was their oyster. The possibilities were endless. A chicken burger, gammon steak and two pints later the town was painted well and truly red.  Amazingly, all done whilst still allowing us to see half of Ironman on Channel 4 and be sound asleep by 9-30. Preparation is everything.   

Tour de Mon

It dawned on me as we made our way across North Wales that I actually knew very little about this event. Normally, I have a reasonable idea of the route map, elevation profile and type of Tarmac used on each strava segment, but for some reason, I had not done that much research this time. 

There were only two things I did know:

1. You got to do a "flying mile" along the runway at RAF valley. 

2. The wind outside was around 25 mph and Anglesey was on the edge of a weather warning. 

Which prompted the kind of debate usually heard in anticipation of weddings or proms; What to wear?  The risk of being too hot or cold with the wind adding complexity was a serious business and some people just brought far too many options. After considering tropical to arctic clothing I finally settled on British (shorts and warm layers on top) and moved on.

Warm welcome 

The Tour de Mon is a tour of the complete island and that is so apt given the welcome you receive. The weather may have been brisk but all around the 103 miles there were people providing warm support. 

The marshals in particular were excellent. When approaching corners, if there was no traffic, the marshals would wave you through such that you did not have to brake. On some occasions they would actually stop the traffic on the road to allow groups of riders through. This is not a closed road event I must stress but the courtesy given by all road users, regardless of vehicle, and the expert marshaling gave it that feel. 

The route around the island is stunning. You go from rugged coastlines to moors to stunning bridges across the Menai straits with Mount Snowdon as a cloud wrapped backdrop. 

Snowdonia in the background

In the middle you get the flying mile.  One straight, flat mile with the wind at your back on perfect tarmac. The father and daughter in sprint position ahead of us on their town bikes were averaging 25 mph!   Chapeau. 

Out to Beaumaris, we achieved 50 ish miles at around 19mph. Feeling fresh, we went straight past the second of the four food stops and then things took a turn, literally, as we headed back towards Holyhead. 

A tale of two halves 

To answer the question at the top of this blog, Anglesey is not flat. It does not have a particularly high altitude on the island but the route masters certainly did the best with the materials they had to work with. 

There was some 1500 meters of climb in the final 50 miles whilst never going above 200 meters. Add the headwind into this, and the course started to bite back after the more compliant first half. 

When you are above the turbines you start to worry

However the views off the coast across the Irish Sea, back across the island to Snowdonia or of the idyllic small seaside towns made for a wonderful backdrop.  My writing skills wouldn't come close to painting the picture they deserve so I won't bother.   

The Old bridge that the route crossed

However one point in particular will stick with me. When we rode into Camaes it felt like most of the residents were out enjoying the sunshine on the pub walls or sat on the harbour as the riders had a brief respite from the wind on the descent.  There was an S bend at it's heart with a little kick in the road across some cobbles.   Inspired by the show of support, I leant low into the corner, jumped out of the saddle and accelerated up the hill. For ten fleeting seconds I was on the Champs Élysées in the final meters of Le Tour; then I was stopped at the roundabout by a Ford Fiesta.  But for ten seconds.....

"When a hero comes along "

A good sportive ride is a challenge. That feeling of overcoming the challenge is hard to replace.     

I know I have used this Mariah Carey quote before, (not said very often I suspect) but sometimes, being heroic is simply having the strength to carry on.  There were lots of heroic rides out there.  

All of the rides joined together at the last third food stop and regardless of whether people were on the 100, 70 or 40 mile routes there were people digging deep at this point. I am always in awe of the people who want to stop and just keep going.  

Whilst there was some short climbs in the last few miles the last few hundred yards were downhill to the seafront.  This will have removed a lot of the painful memories of the previous miles as people crossed the line to receive a commemorative slate. 

All in all this was a great event and a big thanks to the event organisers AAH and the people of Angelsey. 

Back where it all began

See you next year. 

Getting ready for a CAT6 race.

Last night at the age of 21 years and some 6,700 days I can genuinely say I tried something new.  I entered into a British Cycling Category 4 road race. 

My performance was completely in line with expectations and I finished dead last in both races.   

Preparation

In true internet age fashion, I had tried to prepare for the event by reading as much as I could about what to expect and what tactics to deploy. All of the articles carried the dark foreboding that you will get "dropped" faster than the proverbial hot potato. 

So with my tactics of riding at the front, and keeping out of the wind ( these two things are slightly contradictory it now occurs to me), I pinned the numbers onto my shirt and rolled to the start line at Rhyl's Marsh Tracks.   My simple goal being to not finish last. 

Reality

The first event was an elimination race.  All riders lap together and the last one /two over the line is/are out. When the Commissaire told the riders to go I positioned myself near the front behind one other row of riders. 

My tactics worked perfectly until the first corner.  Whilst, I was applying the brakes to make sure of safe passage around the bend, everyone else was accelerating; hard.  Bikes were appearing from out of nowhere!  I felt like Admiral Ackbar in Return of the Jedi and fought the urge to scream "it's a TRAP!"  

Now, at the back of the group, I experienced the effect of having to sprint out of subsequent corners to get back into the group who were accelerating earlier.   Think of the effort you sometimes have to expend to get back up to speed after you have been on holiday from work and it is a similar feeling.  :-)

In truth, I experienced this on three corners and then I was out.   The reality was, despite the thousands of miles I have ridden, I had not ridden round corners at this pace in a group this big. 

Still, there was the handicap race to come where I could redeem this performance. This race sought to even the playing field with Category 4 riders going first and then 3 and 2 riders after with the idea that on the 10th lap the entire group would be together. 

There were four Category four riders and as we started I experienced the same thing even in the smaller group. I was not cornering at the same pace as the others and the rain we were riding in made the problem worse.   I then had to sprint to get back on the wheel of the last rider and get precious shelter from the wind. 

This shelter is supposed to provide up to 30% energy saving and the graph below illustrates that I managed this for three laps.  My average speed once the group was lost decreased from 40kph to about 36kph. This is only actually 10% the inner auditor in me is forced to point out.  Moving on...

Reassessing goals. 

Now if you are going to ride around at the back of a race by yourself, having seen the category three riders pass, and felt a rush of air you assume was the category two riders, you may as well do it in a bright pink shirt.  Designed to be visible on busy roads and decorated with the question "Man or Muppet?", it avoids confusion over your identity for sure. 

The predictable shouts of "MUPPET!" soon accompanied my passing the finish line to start a new lap.   These shouts were mostly my son and his friends who were there for the junior races but what are good friends for if they don't kick you whilst you are down?  

However, the encouragement served to help me with my new objective; Do not get lapped.  I soon realised trying to calculate the closing speed of the groups was impossible so I put my head down and pedalled as hard as I could through the rain. 

I have not been so glad to hear a bell ring since I left school for the last time in 1994 and I started my last lap alone, the field somewhere behind me, closing fast, as they accelerated to finish.  

I have to admit I fought the urge to cross the line arms aloft as if I had won just for the hell of it but the slim slither of success felt like a victory to me. 

In summary

Objective achieved, I relaxed and started to think about what I had learned.   Perhaps I relaxed a bit too much as I rode straight off the far end of the circuit narrowly missing a fence whist panicking about the location of the pond.  

Heart out of mouth and wheels back on smooth Tarmac, time for Take 2 on what I had learned:

1. I was really pleased with my average speed in both races. I had not ridden that fast for that period of time before. 

2. Despite knowing the theory of what to do there was no substitute for the real life experience. 

3. I am terrible at corners. Only [insert name of least favourite goalkeeper here] is worse. I also need to be less cautious in the group to have any chance of keeping up. 

4.  My goal for next time is to not finish last!

 

Too relaxed!  (Artist representation bearing little similarity to actual events).