Matthew Haigh's Bangor Adventure, Part 2

For a map of the Bangor region, and a couple of photos, see Matthew's outbound post.

Coming back from Bangor a day after riding there, I was woken up by heavy hail, which turned to snow as I ate breakfast. It had cleared by the time I ready to leave (10:30am), but whilst getting ready one of the zips on my bootees failed setting the scene for another day.

I looked at various options but decided to head back via Denbigh. The route is much easier in that direction, you can stay on the main road for most of the way and only really have to come off to divert through Conwy and Colywn Bay. By the time I got to Ruthin (75km) I was averaging 29.8km/h - not bad considering that big climb out of Colwyn Bay.

I’d hoped to take the Horseshoe down to Llangollen, but that was closed due to snow. The alternative A road towards Wrexham had a surface that most farm tracks would be ashamed of, and to top it off the snow had started again.

By the time I got to Oswestry I’d pretty much decided that I’d just ride home, rather than aiming for the Travelodge. I figured with luck I’d get there before my wife and kids left for work/school. It was getting dark, and my Smart Superflash was playing up due to getting soaked, even though I’d tried improving the sealing by wrapping it in insulation tape. My rear dynamo light wasn’t working at full efficiency, there was a bad contact in the cabling that I couldn’t fix by the road. Luckily my head torch also has a very good red LED, so that got strapped to my bag.

I didn’t bother stopping at Shrewsbury or Bridgnorth, making Kidderminster my next coffee/food stop at a garage. I had to put my phone under my armpit for a few minutes to warm it up before the battery would work properly. My Ixon IQ front light was starting to be intermittent, again I think due to the cold - but my dynamo front and headtorch rear were holding up giving me plenty of visibility to the rear and letting me see the way reasonably clearly.

On the way out of Kidderminster a WVM (big high sided transit, I think) hit me with his wing mirror, knocking me off and destroying his mirror. He stopped a few hundred yards up the road, then sped off. There was no signwriting on the van and it was too far away in the dark to be able to see the number plate, let alone read it. I picked myself up, luckily the only damage was a hole in the elbow of my jacket and a small hole in the hip of my waterproof trousers. It had been a low speed impact as I’d been going up a fairly steep hill. With over 100 miles still to go, I had no alternative but to jump straight back on and start to ride.

Bridgenorth and Redditch came and went, but the 24 hour garage I’d been aiming for on the road out of Stratford was window service only and surrounded by drunks, so I pushed on. From there to Peartree there were several garages that looked to be open (illuminated pricing signs, brightly lit forecourts), but on closer inspection this turned out to be a tease and they were locked up tight.

At Peartree it was window service only, so no chance of a hot drink or to browse the food, but I did replenish my drinks and get a sandwich. Once past Oxford it started to hail, then snow. What would normally have been a fast final 15km into Reading turned into crawl as I had no glasses to protect my eyes against the hail impacts.

Most of the roads had a covering of snow, but it was OK for riding on. The only problem was that it was coating the bike and my feet, making them quite cold. I got in around 6am so was there before everyone in the house was due to get up around 7am.

Will I do it again next year?

Maybe!

-Matthew

Matthew Haigh's Bangor Adventure, Part 1

Every year I attend a reunion in Bangor that takes place on the final Saturday of January.

Last year I rode there and back as part of my desire to get fit for LEL and do some long sequential rides - so 370km there on the Friday, take Saturday off, then 400km home. The extra distance home is due to adding in a dog log via Stroud; as I’d be out on the beer on Saturday an early morning start wasn’t going to happen so I wanted to factor in a couple of hours in a £9 Travelodge room rather than ride from midday straight through the night.

Here is Matthew's conveyance on another snowy episode:

Last year was fine going to Bangor, but the return was the weekend when the snow hit and brought the country to a standstill. It had started snowing as I got into the mountains and was continuous until I got to the Travelodge, where I abandoned hope of finishing in time. I had a good sleep and continued home in daylight once the snow ploughs had been out.

Fast forward a year, and I decided to ride up again. I’m lighter, fitter and faster, so expected it to be much easier. Unfortunately things didn’t quite turn out that way.

I left home at 4:30am in the pouring rain. I was making pretty good time, getting to Peartree services (~70km) before the Little Chef opened at 7am. The weather cleared up a bit, though there was rain on and off and it was pretty cold when I stopped in Stratford-Upon-Avon for a quick picnic on the river bank.

Approaching Bridgnorth it started to snow, so as I’d planned a stop there anyway I ducked into a garage for a coffee and snack, somehow managing to lose one of the rubber ear pieces for my headphones in the process. When I left the snow had abated, but my back wheel had started to make an occasional clunking noise. This is a two year old wheel that is due for retirement soon anyway (probably having cover 15,000 miles), but I’d hoped to eke it out until the weather got nicer rather than subject a brand new rim to the grinding paste of winter riding.

A few miles up the road and it was sounding like Windy Miller’s windmill. I wasn’t sure how long it would last, and certainly didn’t fancy taking it over the mountains in bad weather. I crawled to Shrewsbury and found a mechanic willing to do a wheel bearing service there and then (in Halfords of all places!). I watched him, he did a rather splendid job but I ended up losing about 90 minutes, plus the delay due to riding carefully for the previous 10 miles or so.

Up the road to Oswestry - with snow and very slippery conditions. I had a full meal at the Little Chef and when I left the roads were not as icy - presumably a gritter had been through. Then things turned sour again; flashing signs at the side of the road told me that the A5 was shut just past Corwen. I had no idea if it was road works (where I might be able to get past even if it meant walking) or bad snow. The signed diversion was to go up past Wrexham and along the A55 - swapping a scenic ride through pretty towns and painfully beautiful mountains for a main road hack up horrible dual carriageways with nothing to look at and an extra 20 miles to ride.

I didn’t have a map with me as I know the route well, and the GPS really doesn’t cope well with planning alternative routes on the bike. The display is simply too small to get a big overview and if you just ask it to get you somewhere it somehow always manages to choose the most inappropriate routing. I managed to cut off a corner going via Mold, but I wasn’t in the best of moods - especially when I also somehow lost one of the clear lenses for my glasses so had to take them off.

For some reason the drivers on the A55 road were pretty nasty; it was late-ish at night, with an almost an almost empty road, yet I’ve never been honked at so many times - I wonder if they think the whole road is barred to bikes rather than just certain sections?

The A55 is a fairly benign road hill-wise, but in their wisdom the North Wales planners have decided that bicycles are fine to take hillier roads whilst car drivers have to travel on the flat. Whilst the cars get a nice flat expressway through Colwyn Bay, cyclists are forced off onto the old road which goes over the top of a mountain. Past Conwy, you aren’t allowed through the new tunnels on a bike, so you have to take a convoluted cycle path that includes climbing up steep ramps to foot/cycle path bridges, going over the top of outcroppings where the cars go straight through, and following a lovely surfaced cycle path where the road alongside is flat but the cycle path follows the original contours and incorporates regular 10-15% hills up and down. The worst of these is at the Penmaenmawr end - you drop down a 10% hill to be presented with a pair of chicane barriers as you are supposed to dismount at that point. I wonder how many people have ridden into those if their brakes aren’t 100%. You then have to climb a long extremely steep hill into the town that I only just made it up using a triple, then another steep bridge to negotiate and a path over the top of the hill that the cars drive through. Hardly a cycle route to encourage new cyclists! [Matthew has managed by dint of adventurous rides like this one to place highly in the Year-Rounder Personal Long division. He currently lives "down south," on the Berkshire /Hampshire border, but ranges farther afield. Stay tuned next time for Part 2, the return! - jle]

Susan Reed's Maui Century

Having signed on for two UMCA challenges in 2010, my first challenge was to figure out how to get in a January century when the temps are in the teens and snow is on the ground in Chicago. (You can also see this and other reports on Susan's blog.) Our 12 January days in Hawaii held promise for "getting it done" but it was not a "slam dunk January's in the books" given. The bike I brought to HI was my Bike Friday Tikit, named Tilda, a folder with 16 x 38 wheels, 8 gears and no front derailleur; I was one month post-op for repair of a torn rotator cuff; and Kauai had only one road with virtually no shoulder. The jury was also still out whether I could even ride an upright 90-100 miles since I have ridden recumbents exclusively these last seven years, a result of multiple back surgeries and complicated physical rehabs. Actually, until I bought the Tikit this past October I had not even been on an upright bike in 20 years. Our second week would be in Maui where the roads were much more bike friendly and I would then be 5 weeks post-op. Can't even count how many times I've ridden 100+ miles, but sleep was not to come the night before my Maui century. The sun rose at 7:15; the Door Man at the Westin Kaanapali Resort Villas signed my Year Rounder Personal Ride Verification form--Miles ridden "0", time of departure 7:42 a.m. January 26th, address: 6 Kai Ala Dr.
A great tail wind carried me over the rollers on Honoapiilani Drive up to the steep climbs in Napili and Kapalua with take-your-breath-away vistas of the Pacific along the western edge of West Maui. Then came the rain that bathes these Maui cliffs with 200+ inches of rain a year, the fast descents that even Tilda took at 30 mph were followed by mile-long climbs that Tilda took at 5 and 6 mph. To get my needed mileage I needed two of these Honoapiilani loops.

I practiced Hammer's 3 hour rule of no fueling 3 hours before a hard or long workout or race, so celebrated the completion of my first loop with a bar and a bottle of Hammer Heed and Sustained Energy. A stop back at the Resort for the Door Man to sign my Ride Verification Form at mile 27.5 and I was off for the next 60+ miles.

Out of the rain forest now and into an arid coastal region protected from the fierce trade winds by the Arizona-esque mountains. I found the trade winds for real when I headed northeast from Ma'alae toward Kahului. They favored me with a 20 mph coast into Starbucks at Kahului which, upon the return, would be a 5 mph crawl. Fun to see a large cruise ship in the Kahului harbor and be free to cruise the island with my Tikit, Tilda.

The trade winds were now more cross winds than head or tail upon the return--I'm lovin that. My plan was to stop in Lahaina under the 130+ year old Banyan Tree, 6 miles from my finish, and find someone to take my picture since 27 years ago I finished the Maui Marathon, 3rd place in my age division, under that same Banyan Tree. Precisely as I dismounted my bike under the Banyan tree my phone rang, it was Kirk, my husband, wondering how I was progressing. I said, "I'm under the Banyan Tree in Lahaina looking for someone to take my picture." He said, "I'm under the Banyan Tree, too. I'll take your picture." Can't get any better than that. We recruited a willing volunteer to take our picture.

Rolled into the parking lot; the Door Man signed my form: Time--3:42 p.m., miles so far 94.6. I washed the rain, road crud, and salty air residue from Tilda out of a wastebasket filled with warm water and shampoo from my room; soaked my tired body in our in-room Jacuzzi; and enjoyed carry-in Thai on our balcony with Kirk.

Tilda was up for the task and my bod held up on the upright. Although I'm not planning on any more long rides on Tilda, or any other upright for that matter, it’s good to know I can do it, and for that I'm deeply grateful to all those both past and present who have contributed to my long-road healing process, the most recent piece being my shoulder repair.