I'm riding along a trail. It's quite a nice trail, being narrow, smooth and grassy; undulating gently across a large area of moorland. Thanks to the torrential rain of the previous days it's a bit damp in places but nothing too bad. The sun has shone for most of the day and the wind generally light. Views from this large moorland would be fabulous. It sounds perfect, but it's not...
It's 3am so dark, and therefore no view. I've been on the go for nearly 19 hrs and ridden for 220km with over 5000m of climbing. What I'm riding doesn't match with where I think I am. The woodland I'd hoped to bivvy in was 15k ago but I don't know this, I think it's ahead. I scroll ahead on the route on the GPS trying to figure out what's happening. But I can't really see any detail without my specs. In the light of the near full moon the trail carries on into infinity, inevitably heading uphill, always uphill. My on bike GPS shows a purple line with an arrow on it - me. My internal GPS has failed - I'm not lost, I just don't know where I am. All I can do is follow the purple line. Forget where you are, why you are here, who you are, just follow the line, no matter what. Just keep going. And going. And going....
At 7.47 the previous morning I'd departed a bright and sunny Llanbrynmair in a fine mood and the pure pleasure of the prospect of 300k of excellent trails. The drive down the previous day had been a bit of a mission thanks to torrential rain and heavy traffic. But I was here now and ready to go after a fair bit of prep; plus the usual stressing over route logistics, gear choices and planning. As ever, once I departed all this disappeared from my consciousness and I was back into that oh so familiar place of riding my bike on a long route with little cares, despite what was to come.Prep included much map viewing of the route. As it happened a chunk of the last 100k was similar to the first 100k of last years route, just in the other direction. So familiar trails would lift spirits at a critical point when it's dark, you are tired and energy is at it's lowest ebb. Before that it looked like a mix of riding but with some ace scenery. The weather forecast had got progressively better for the weekend as the week progressed but the un-forecasted deluge on the Friday morning was of concern. Still, if you are in Wales (or anywhere else in the UK for that matter) in October and the weather is going to be nice then you can't really stress about trail conditions can you?
Sure enough the first trail over the first moor was indeed wet. But not a bog, so hopefully the damp would only be surface deep. Puddles I could deal with. The first of much nav faffing occurred just as I met Pete, a fellow 300 rider. I'd been following him instead of the route so missed a kink in the trail through a gate to stay on the right line. Back on track and the first descent - narrow, rocky, slatey, slippy. Oh yes slate is like ice when wet so take it steady buddy or we'll be off. More slithers followed on another trail type that would feature heavily in the coming miles - saturated clay churned up by cows, sheep and tractors. Keep the speed down to stop spraying it everywhere, weight well back. No probs, I have mudguards. Then a steep slate strewn chute that was taken more sideways than forwards. "Steady man" I spoke to myself. Got to keep it the right way up as even a minor off can be ride ending when you've 300k to do....
I pleased myself by riding right passed the Machynlleth Co-op. I'd only done 20k so ploughed on, my pace super steady. Any time I felt myself starting to push on I reined it in. Go slow, go steady was my mantra.
A rider on the next trail revealed itself as Bob, who left just before me. He knew this bit and warned of a long, long climb on a forest track that would be a killer on SS. This is what you get when you sign up for these things....We both then passed Liz, also doing the 300 on a steep and stony climb. I revealed my pushing skills and stomped away from them in that oh so familiar rhythm.
Open moors and views were the prize and the sea glinting in the sunshine. For all I enjoyed last years route, the views were limited for the most part due to the terrain and gloomy weather so this was on the money. BB200/300 moment. I'm pushing up a steep road climb and notice a narrow rocky trail climbing away from a hairpin bend. 50 yds later I stab the GPS screen to check I'm on route. I'm not, I should have forked right back the ways. Turn round, get to start of rocky trail - yup this is the route. I bash through it as quick as possible, thankful for a pair of boots which allow this without too much worry about slipping or turning an ankle. It joins a fire road after a 100 yds. The route could have used this for an easier climb but then it wouldn't be the BB200/300...
As Bob said, the next trail was a long, long climb (actually the most height gain on the route) but I got up it fine, expending mental effort to keep the pace down to that perfected single speed slow cadence. The fun began at a right turn, into a nadgery, rocky byway climbing out of the woods. There then followed a network of byways - smooth tracks with gargantuan puddles, rocky tracks, (more puddles) narrower trails with huge ruts, puddles, multiple lines.
Wales is kind of the last bastion of motorised trail riding in the UK - the widespread closures of vehicle ROW's seen across England seem largely absent here, for whatever reason. This has lead to it being a mecca for the trail riding types so use is heavy. It's also anarchy as there is plenty evidence of illegal riding off the ways as well as use of forests - we'll come back to this...The bunch I met were cheery enough however and the leader asked if I was OK when he passed me about to commence a puncture faff. So much for my unblemished ITT puncture record (5000k of ITT's with no punctures!) I'd turned off a fire road into a rocky descent, thought "steady now" hit a loose stone and 10 yards later felt the back tyre go soft. Shit, so much for a pair of brand new tyres. Next question, can I plug it as getting Rangers off is nigh on impossible. Specs on, tools out, pump tyre and sure enough two 5mm slits, one near the crown and one right in the bead of the rim - classic tubeless snakebite. I knew they would never seal so got stuck in with the plugs - gooey thin strips. Pump up tyre, still some leakage but a shake of the wheel and they both sealed. Pump again no probs, crack on. 10 minutes lost.
Just after this was one of two fords on the route which put the stress levels up further as it was deep - thigh deep at least. Now most people would just plunge in, get soaking wet and then moan about wet feet and cold afterwards. Not me. Plan A was always to avoid such crossings, Plan B was shoes and socks off. Think laterally - the ford is actually across a junction of a smaller burn and a big one. Fight through the undergrowth, throw bike into small burn, jump across. Fight through undergrowth push up track, get on, ride. Except the back tyre feels soft. On for a bit but it's no good as all you end up doing is spraying sealant everywhere. Stop. Sort it. The plug in the tyre bead was fine but the one on the crown wasn't. I've got bigger plugs, I've got this. Pull out the plug and ram in a bigger one. Ram it in properly, this has to do 250k. The trail riding group passed and I started pumping. No messing just up to what I need and sure enough all sealed.
Bob appeared so we chatted a bit (me and Bob often meet on ITT routes - we chat for a bit then my anti-social single speed pace leaves him...) before I pulled ahead. Earlier I'd been properly happy with the route, the views, everything. Now I was stressing about punctures and if I could carry on if this repair didn't work. I had a tube with me but this would be a hassle. I'd seen a vid by Neil Beltchenko last year on tubeless repair tips. His view was that you only use a tube as an absolute last resort. Needle and thread, tyre patches, boots, superglue, dirt and spit. I had all this so as I rode along I planned my next repair and this would be rock solid. The miles passed, the tyre was firm and the stress dissipated. And why wouldn't it? I was in the middle of what would be one of the nicest sections of the route - fine views, some excellent bike riding on trails which just kept going and going. Occasionally you'd hit a road but often you'd just cross it or follow it for a bit before pealing off on another trail.
Tick, tick, tick, tick... what's that? A thorny branch stuck in the front tyre. I pulled it out without thinking and the removed thorn lead to a hiss of air. A quick spin of the tyre and the sealant did it's job. Some time later the same happened. This time I left it so the thorn would help with the seal as I was now becoming puncture paranoid. Was this the time I'd have to DNF through a mechanical?Finally I was spat out on a precipitous road descent, followed by a hard road climb. There would be plenty more of these but I kept telling myself - "7500m of climbing, 7500m of climbing." It's no good looking ahead and hoping the route won't drop you into that valley, or won't follow that track climbing steeply up the hill opposite. There is 7500m of climbing on this route so yes, you are going to drop down to that valley and yes, that is your route up that hill opposite. Still, for me it's dead easy - you roll to the bottom, get off, push.
A missed turn was objected to strongly by a bunch of feral farm dogs, which got me back on route sharpish. A grassy trail followed through fields full of sheep and sheep dung. Ah yes, after last years 200, my bike ended up being somewhat aromatic for weeks afterward. As it happened, this wouldn't be an issue for this ride.
I can see the sea!One final precipitous descent got me onto NCN 81 and some easy miles, spent eating. That said, 8k of flat gravel path isn't necessarily a good thing as this just compresses the climbing! But the respite continued for a few road miles and then a bridleway I'd pegged as being potentially problematic - vague, overgrown, covered in fallen trees etc. In the event it was as clear as mud - a 2m corridor of properly gooey clay with added puddles. There was no chance of bypassing any of this as the local horsey fraternity had ensured the full available width was ploughed into glop. I must thank John Allan and Tom Bruce for showing the best line though all of this. I'd become aware I was following two sets of bike tracks some time ago and they were a boon through this lot. No choice but to keep going and keep the speed down.
Bless Stuart though - he must have predicted this as just afterwards was a nice ford to wash the worst of the mud off. A stick scraped about half a kilo off the crud catcher and rear 'guard and off we go. Into more of the same.... OK not that bad and soon enough I was onto more fire road. I stopped for a drink from an incredibly clear burn at the track side. I'd gone without a filter as I was confident of getting water at two points on route, at least. But the now hot sun had me sweating and drinking so I used this for a top up - a benefit of the rain the previous day as I was sure it would be clean. Two passing horse riders were firstly concerned about my seemingly abandoned bike and then nextly by me emerging from the undergrowth by the burn...
Perpetrators of mud!More fine riding followed on one of those gems of a doubletrack with grass in the middle, a smooth line either side, no puddles and a fab view. A big moor was approaching but I was looking forward to this. Firstly a climbing road (always climbing) up onto the prodigious moor that feeds the Elan valley and it's reservoirs. The afternoon was drawing on but I was feeling OK overall with a large dent made in my food supplies and near perfect pacing. After the road became a byway I grinned as this was more like the stuff I'm familiar with - large moor, stony track through it, vast views all around. Ford number two appeared here. In the event I got across it feet dry thanks to a bit of line imagination as the middle bit the vehicles used was deep. All part of the fun. We even had some threatening cloud! A few spots of rain actually came in at one point but I left it behind as I descended past the res.
Despite all the rain, still very low. A side burn I'd crossed had etched a steep and rocky gorge on it's path into the reservoir. Normally this would be far under water but now it was re-revealed, thanks to the dry summer. I amused myself imagining the res water level slowly creeping back up the gorge as the river poured more into it.... The public loo provided a much needed pause. I didn't bother with water here as I'd filled up from a trackside spring - again, crystal clear and fresh. What I will call 'digestive system maintenance' is just as important as all the other stuff you need to do these things. If your guts disagree with you when you are trying to ride 300k's your stuffed. Literally. The problem being is that if your digestive system gets too upset then it will grind to a halt and you lose the ability to process food. The next thing you know your energy disappears and you grind to a halt. Ask me how I know...
What's next? - a big steep climb to push up. On a nice grassy trail so that's OK. Over the top more grassy trail which descended a ways then climbed steadily up - lovely but we were going the wrong way along it (as usual...) Over this was a fast descent on good gravel (no puddles!) More road, a steep climb through forestry and more easy track into a steep descent back to civilisation.
I'm cruising all of this, seemingly with little effort. Climbs are tackled if they look OK or pushed if too steep; all in a rhythm I'm oh so familiar with. And it's all enjoyable - every descent elicits a grin, every climb a grimace but in the knowledge it's well inside my ability. As a finale, Stuart had thrown in a cheeky footpath descent that was a rock filled slot - just what I like and which I tackle like any other such trail. The previous k's are forgotten and the following k's not thought about. All there is, is me and this rocky descent, the rest can wait.... Best of all I had a major treat at the end of it - the Llanwrthwl Spar shop on which I fell like a rabid hyena on a week old corpse.
Oh yesRight then. My belly was stuffed, I'd used the loo (again), my bags were near as full as at the start, my (water) bladder was brimmed and I felt good. Next chance of water was 100k away. Off we go then. As it happened I'd figured that the next section would be tricky - according to aerials anyway. Bog and tussock a-plenty and various lines which could be difficult to follow if it was dark. But I was way, way ahead of my most optimistic schedule so whilst the light was fading, I was confident I could bash through it before dark o'clock. And I did. Just. I suspect it had been a byway at one point, given the state it was in. But it was now shut for motors so tricky, but not a complete swamp. Hmm. Stu's line was probably the best but I ended up following the line on the ground which was a bit rough. But as I exited past a farm onto yet another completely knackered U road I felt happy. K160 (we'll come back to this), full belly, plenty of leg and energy and the long night beckoned.
The next trail was indeed an overgrown and fallen tree strewn channel, but the field next to it wasn't so my track along this section is a straight line with little zig-zags where I had to duck back into the old ROW to use the gates. A near full moon had risen in the east and I couldn't help noticing the large hill right below it. I suspected that this was my destination for the routes high point (I was in fact correct!) I'd the next few sections fairly well scoped in my head and knew that a potentially hard trail was coming. In event it was OK, just another monster climb followed by lots of puddles...
Worryingly, as I was pushing up the first steep, two things with lots of lights attached appeared on the road behind me. I correctly guessed a couple of off-roaders were approaching but I was determined to keep ahead. Not because I had any fears about their occupants although it did occur to me that this wasn't the best place to meet a bunch of cyclist hating 4x4 rednecks. Two land rovers I'd encountered on the byway to the Claerwen res had gone out of their way to... get out of my way, I suspect as part of their 'code' to be friendly to other trail users which is fair enough. The irony of similar vehicles behaviour on a public road did not escape me though. No my concern with this lot was that I'd be was dammed if I was going to let them past on the climb only to be held up on the descent!
In the event I outpaced them by miles -1x1 is better than 4x4. The big climb loomed in my sights. The approach was typical of what I'd seen so far - a quagmire through a farm yard and the first section of the actual bridleway, helped by the farmer having dumped a load of manure on it - muppets... I knew it would improve once I left the lowland and it did. Briefly. Then the trail deteriorated to yet another strip of sheep trodden gunge. The first bit was not too bad, I just followed in Tom and John's tyre tracks! Then it lead into a wide area of 3-4" depth of (not to put to fine a point on it) shite. Mud, sheep shit and piss all mixed together. I slithered through this cursing loudly; when things got much, much worse.
A loud hiss from my back tyre signaled yet another hole. What in the name of all hell could cause a puncture in this lot? I spun the wheel so the hole was at the bottom of the tyre but it took a worrying few seconds of hissing and squirting of sealant, and a lot of shouting and swearing, before it sealed. Fuck, now what? Possibly a nail or a bit of wire but trust me to find it this way and no chance of trying to plug a hole given the tyre is caked in an inch of mud. I've been plagued by such punctures in the last couple of years, but not on an ITT! Whatever, just push up the hill and we'll sort it at the top.
As it happened the grass and heather along the way was soaked with dew so the tyres were soon clean. I squeezed the rear and it still seemed firm so on we go. No up we go! And up, and up, and....
Oh dear. My earlier good feelings, punched back by the random puncture, disappeared into an endless climb. That is the problem when it's dark, distance and gradient become impossible to fathom on an open moor. I got my head down and pushed. At one point the gradient did ease and I hopped on and pedaled for a bit, fortunately without any hisses from the rear wheel so hopefully that hole is gone, but then it was back up again. Worse, at one point the trail faded into the tussocks at a shonky gate that was a quarter under water. I bashed on, my eyes glued to the GPS screen to make sure I stayed on the line. Finally I was looking at a moonlit view rather than a blank hill side. I was up, 648m right enough, downhill all the way back! Or not. Still, the moonlit panorama around me served to lift my mood, helped by the prospect of a monster descent.
The ruts in the first bit should have warned me - trail bikes. It was fun at first but down in the trees the trail became yet another glop fest. The time was telling as I was struggling to keep the plot in anything remotely like a straight line. Relax, weight well back, allow the font wheel to find it's own line. Easy when it's broad daylight and you are fit and fresh. Not now. Annoyingly I missed a turn and went a hundred yards down a trail that was particularly bad before realising my mistake. The actual route appeared to head through fire break with no discernible path. Actually there was - a vague overgrown line - yeehar, my kind of trail! Off the bottom of this was more mucky riding before the route hit fire roads right to the road once more. Phew that was a major relief getting all of that out the way - now what!
Knighton and the most easterly point of the route. Between me and it was yet another steady climb on a smooth byway. I'm pushing a lot now on any grade steeper than 'a bit.' My energy levels are dipping - just a general feeling of tiredness and a slight upset stomach. I need to eat more food. A selection of my stash goes down the hatch but it's an effort. Haribo helps and the pure sugar gives an instant kick. Finally the lights of Knighton appear below but I know everything is shut so after a fast descent I'm off back west.
Oddly the GPS is showing 202k - It should only be 190 or so but I'm not complaining. Dunno where the extra 10k has come from. I know it not but this incorrect figure is about to haunt me.... But I'm thinking of what's coming up and planning my bivvy stop - up humongous climb number (I don't know) on Glyndyrs way, a big road descent, more bridleway and byway climbing, more road then a few byways onto the big moor we crossed last year. At that point was a small plantation which would be my stopping point. Shouldn't be too far...
Hitting Glyndyrs way is nice - I'd never been on this bit before but knowing it leads onto familiar trails lifts flagging spirits. A smooth gravel track (another byway) up a substantial climb, pushed mainly. Near the top I eat more food and take a big drink. I recognise this bit from my map research as there is a strip of woodland next to the trail which I thought may be good for a snooze. But it's too early so onward. Grassy trail for a bit then a bit more track to the road.
Down a massive road decent I go. There is a full temperature inversion so it gets rapidly colder as I descend. This has been happening since it got dark but this time it's particularly chilly. I keep on as another climb will be along soon to warm me back up. And does it - under a railway bridge and straight into it. Up, up, up and more up to another huge moor. It's a nice grassy trail, with good waymarking and easy self closing gates before a fun section in a narrow fenced strip - easy singletrack and dry to boot. Then onto a wider track uphill. I pass a plantation which I can't remember seeing on the map during route homework. The answer is staring me in the face but my tired brain doesn't make the connection. I actually consider stopping but it's only 1am. Keep going.
So off I go into a maze of trails, all alike. I'm getting more and more concerned the further I go, never losing height, in fact gaining it constantly, never meeting a road, other than to cross one at one point. I'm riding across a wide area of moorland but none of it is familiar as I'm not expecting to be where I actually am. Where is the next road? I should have hit it ages ago? What, in fact, the hell is going on?? The GPS shows 230k which can't be right given what I still have to do. I plough on, on autopilot - just follow the line and the two tyre tracks. Finally, finally I hit a road. I still don't twig what's going on - a bit where the 'line' short-cuts a loop of gravel track through a rough grassy bit looks familiar from last year... "no it can't be, I'm not there yet..."
I fly down another steep and narrow road descent and hit a main road. I recognise this bit as well, and the turn off past a church but I'm still convinced I haven't reached my plantation yet. Uphill again and into another moor section, but not the one I think it is, so I'm still confused and I can't equate anything around me to where my failed memory thinks I should be. Another moor looms ahead but I turn left before climbing it. More grassy fields, more confusion, then another hill to climb, well over the flanks anyway. Still two tyre prints in the damp grass, still on the purple line. "Where the hell am I?" I ask the moon. It doesn't answer.
Eventually I stop, put my reading glasses on and look at the GPS screen, scrolling along the route ahead and behind to find out where the hell I am. A large forest a few k ahead confuses me - there is no such thing between me and the 'big moor'. Then the penny finally drops. This is the two forest sections before Bwylch Y Sarnau. I'm miles past the woodland I was going to bivvy in (actually the one I'd spied ages ago but didn't relate to the one I thought it was.) I am in fact many miles further along the trail than I thought I was. The section of endless trails across a big moor was... the 'big moor' section of last year, which looked totally unfamiliar due to it being dark and me being knackered. Bloody hell, what an idiot. But the realisation that I was actually well on the way to the finish gives me an instant mood kick and my stupidity is forgotten - 'm still on route and going well so forget what has gone before, just keep going. Glyndyrs cafe in Bwlych Y Sarnau was 'open' in that the porch would be open with tea and coffee making supplies, and a loo. I would bash on to there, crash out for a while and then get this route done.
Obviously it wasn't as simple as that. A fun descent on a narrow trail preceded another road plummet after sneaking through a farm yard. My minds route plan re-booted and I knew where I was. Still missed a turn though onto a grassy trail remembered from last year. An odd crunching sound as I ploughed through it confused me until I realised it was a hard frost on the ground. It's an odd feeling to be colder at valley level than on top of a large and breezy moor....
Anyway; I stomped through this and into the woods. I knew what was coming - a super steep descent from last year would be an eyeballs out push. Better yet, this year it was a mass of horse hoof poached gunge. I got up eventually and then ground up more fire road. More cheeky footpath (downhill) which was a hoot. All good as it gets the adrenaline going which wakes you up. Up again, my slow pace dragging the climb out. Finally I exited the forest, the lights of Bwylch y Sarnau ahead.
My constant companion from 7.30 the previous eveningA couple of bikes were parked outside the cafe and two guys were ensconced - Martin and Jay doing the 200. I made a cup of strong, sweet coffee which tasted like nectar. We chatted a bit about our experiences of the last 20 hours - much the same. Lots of hills, lots of mud. They left soon after but I settled back for more coffee and food from my bag, whilst running through the experiences so far in my mind. Much muppetry but actually a good showing in terms of time and distance so nothing to moan about all in all. My appetite was none existent but I nibbled as much as I could before using the loo, filling the bladder and getting going. 50 odd k to go and one significant climb left.
The benefit of knowing where you are and on familiar trails cannot be under-estimated. The fact it was good going also helped and looking up to the eastern sky I saw the first hint of dawn. Daylight started to creep over me descending down to the Severn valley. The next climb revealed my legs weren't really on speaking terms with my head but I plodded up in reasonable order, dispensed with the last grassy trail and dropped into Llandidloes. I'd plenty food left so cruised past the Co-op without a glance. Then that final climb, and what a monster. Actually one of the longest on the route and terrible at this stage in the game. Worse it seemed to have endless false summits. When it eventually switched to dirt it went further up. But at least it was now full daylight and the sun was shining.
Fast and loose decent, twists and turns, a bit of back road and then a great bridleway into the back of Hafren forest. Of course it was all uphill but steady enough not to cause too much misery. I actually recognised bits from last year and after a few more forest roads, the Severn ford (which I missed in favour of the FB,) more forest roads; I emerged onto the final road section. I had a stiff tailwind and a short easy climb before the long run back down to Llanbrynmair. I relaxed - I'd done it. Tyres had held up, knees a bit sore, back and arms aching from all the pushing and I seemed to have an energy limiter set to 'very little' which prevented any attempt at hard pedaling on the occasional short climb. But that is part of the appeal of these things.
Your seemingly at the end of your tether, the bottom of the barrel is scraped, up-ended and peered into to see if there are any faint traces of energy left in the corners, you keep hitting another hill which you think will reduce you to a blubbering wreck, but.... you just keep going, and going, and going....I rolled into Llanbrynmair community centre at just after 10, 26 hours and 15 minutes after leaving the previous day. Stu and Dee were there to greet me and a few others who'd finished the 200. I spent the morning drinking coffee, eating bacon rolls and trying to encompass the previous 26 hours in my head. Finally at 12 I figured I'd better get going before the sleep monsters overtook me. The journey home was much easier. An hours snooze kept me going and a large curry at my brothers place hit the spot before 10 hours of well earned sleep.
Final word.....
Another single speed triumph although I did miss a granny gear in the final miles. I do seem to have a need to be able to place myself in a landscape, even if its just to have an image of a map in my mind with an idea of where I am on it. Probably why I've a good sense of direction and am a pretty good navigator. But once I'd misplaced myself, I got pretty distressed. Of course, tiredness played a part; and my tendency to keep bashing on when I should have just stopped and figured out where I was. I'll know next time... What didn't help was my GPS gaining 10k somewhere which meant it thought we were further along the trail and I thought we were further back! No idea how - maybe it was already on the trip computer and I forgot to reset. It also recorded a max speed of 100km/h so it may be on the blink....
Timing wise I was gobsmacked to be honest. When I did the YD300 last year in just over 28 hours I figured this would be as quick as I'd ever do such a thing. On paper this route was identical to the YD - 300k and 7500m of climbing - but it was much harder. Trail conditions were largely the reason but the nature of the climbs played a part too. I should have stopped for a couple of hours (as I'd planned) as I suspect I'd have been in much better shape for the last 100k if I had. Still, I just about got away with it, and as I write this I'm well on the way to recovery. Despite the length of the journey to get there it's such a great event I want to make it an annual pilgrimage so I may re-think my travel plans for next year.
Thanks to Stuart and Dee for creating such a great 'do' and always making it both a challenge and a pleasure!
Gear stuff.Usual bike and kit set up, pretty much identical to last year with a light bivvy bag, quilt and mat that would have been perfect had I used it....
Apart from the punctures the bike was flawless, only requiring a chain lube at K175.
Food wise I did better than last year and managed to eat for most of the route. I struggled in the early hours of Sunday however I suspect this is always going to be difficult after such a long stint. A large fry up would have gone down a treat!
Clothing wise I over-dressed as usual to help me keep my pace down which I did to perfection. This meant I didn't need to add layers when darkness fell. I got cold on the descents but quickly warmed on the climbs. Waterproofs were carried but not worn. That's two years in a row so next year is going to be a weather shocker! I'd brought my new Lake boots and my trusty Shimano XM7's but went with the Lakes as I figured they would be warmer and more comfortable. They were and I had zero foot issues. Also the soles didn't fall off as they had with my first pair! Being able to walk through 4" deep mud without getting damp feet or mud into your shoes is a significant benefit on such a long route.
The punctures....
This is the third time I've had a pinch puncture on a tubeless set up and they have all been a bit of a mystery. I often bottom out the rim on a rock when picking my way along a boulder strewn trail without any issue whatsoever. All three pinch punctures have been on a track where I've had a bit more speed and clipped a small rock. I suspect it's simply down to hitting the right shaped rock at the right angle. At first I cursed my decision to fit the Rangers instead of my normal Bonty XR2's as these have reinforced sidewalls. In truth I suspect it made bugger all difference. Being objective I lost 20 minutes fixing it which is probably less time than if I'd had to pull and fix a tube. If I'd used the right plug the first time I'd have halved this time. Also the thorn punctures in the front tyre sealed instantly saving me a further two 30 minute puncture fixes. In fact when I pulled the back tyre to do a permanent fix on the pinch puncture holes I found two other thorns. I also found two more in the front so 8 holes overall, only two of which needed plugs. The final puncture in the back tyre remains a mystery as I can't now see where it occurred and there was nothing in the tyre. It did seal though so saving me further time loss. What I'm trying to say is that tubeless is undoubtedly better in these circumstances. I'm still refining my plug technique however!
