Well I have just about recovered from my latest epic bike ride. The lads from the bike club wanted to do a Peak District loop which started at Glossop, went south to Hayfield, then East to Edale and north past Ladybower reservoir, then due west back to Glossop. Andy Westwell had found the ride in a book and though it was presented in this book as a three day ride we planned to do it in one day.
Perhaps I was a little foolish to even consider it but the countryside sounded great, I hadn't ridden in the peaks and well I naively thought I would find it fun.
We made it down to Glossop for 9am having left Barrowford at 7.30, and were on the road for 9.15. Weather set fair, cloudy but little chance of rain and coolish too.
The beginning of the ride was steep tarmac leading to the hills north of Hayfield. we passed quite close to Kinder res. and had a look at Kinder Scout, I was glad that we weren't going up to the top of it though. The tracks were dry and there was a good grassy downhill into Hayfield. Only just over an hour gone and we were making good speed. The next section took us a tour of the hills around Hayfield, we two hard climbs, and a couple of rocky descents only to find that we were still in bloody Hayfield. We were supposed to be but it still felt a little disheartening not to have actually got anywhere.
We headed out, and up from Hayfield again this time heading east passing just south of Kinder Scout. It was on yet another of the rough tracks that Andy broke is pedal. Now most people on looking at a broken pedal would swear and start to make plans to go home for the day. We were miles from the car and looking at his bike, where there had been a pedal was now just a spindle. We had done 17 miles by this time and had about 40 to go. After standing about scratching our heads for a while we decided that if he was just to slip the pedal back onto the spindle and then clip his cycling shoe onto it, he may be able to carry on for a while.
We trundled on, well I walked for a fair bit of it. The rocks were about the size of a horse's head and I just can't ride up that sort of stuff. I can't ride down most of it but up is a no-no. Andy didn't complain, he just kept slipping his foot back onto he spindle every time it came off.
By lunch time, I took a short break whilst they went in search of a chip shop, we had made it to the top of a little ridge called Mam Tor, olde English for Mother hill. It was a 'mother' of a hill as well. They all blasted off, singing the praises of how good the decent had been. Me, well I stopped for a while to enjoy the view, it was an amazing ridge, falling about 300 feet on both sides and then gingerly made my way down the steepest side. Here again the rocks were like suitcases and the ruts must have been dug by some masochistic Irish navies. When I did get to the bottom, my bloody wrist were aching from pulling on the brakes, I must have used at least 1mm of brake shoe on the trip.
From here we continued off road to sections which I had to get off and push up, followed by sections I had to get off and push down. The sweat was dripping from bit I didn't even know had sweat glands. I was seriously wondering how I could get back to car on the shortest route without the other lads noticing that I had gone. When we got to Ladybower res. I made my escape plan known to the other riders and they scupper it by telling me how well I was doing and that the way they were going was just as easy anyway. Lying Bastards
Round the res. was easy, we even passed a couple of families and some women carrying handbags. Always a good sign that the going it easy. It wasn't to last though, we headed north from the top of the res. onto a single track, footpath, to the uninitiated, again it was steep and rocky so I was walking, but so wee the others so I didn't feel too bad. We were all getting tired but they were all competing to show how strong they were. It was quite funny really to see the others competing with each other to get to the top of each little bit first.
The track took us over moorland, which was quiet and tranquil. Well they had left me behind and if I could get my heart to stop trying to jump out of my chest three times every second it would have been quiet. I took a moment to calm my self and picked a little piece of heather. She didn't mind. I stuck this in my pack to give to Julie when I got home, I thought it would be nice to show her I had been thinking of her in my last moments.
My hear rate dropped to 160 beats per min so it was time to go on. Eventually we reached the A628 and after stopping at a pub for even more liquid headed east to the car.
The last few miles were on a disused railway called the Longendale Trail. Somehow I found myself at the front and was really enjoying the toddle along the flat in the dusk. I was averaging a nice little trot at 14.5 mph. When they caught me up we were suddenly doing 22 mph, no wonder I was buggered.
We finished at 7.20 pm back in Glossop. I had done 55.5 miles on the day, they had done 58, the extra bit looking for the chip shop I suppose. At the end of it I was really proud to say that I had done the Peaks Epic of 2000, but it was the hardest thing I have ever done in a day. I drank 5.5 litres of fluid during the day, not including my pint of milk for breakfast and I still felt dehydrated.
Andy never complained about his broken pedal all day, though there were a few times when he thought he had lost it but it was just stuck to the bottom of his shoe. What a hero.
Julie said that I was still cycling in the night.
What a hoot!
Last Updated 28-10-2000
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