Tuesday, 07 May 2019
Alex writes: To qualify for
Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP) this year, it is necessary to ride a super-randonneur series of rides recognized by Audax Club Parisien – so, of 200, 300, 400 and 600 km accredited calendar events. With my 200 and 300 already done it was time for the 400 – and after asking around I had picked the
Brevet Cymru, said to be "the" 400.
The idea of the ride is simple: ride from Chepstow on the eastern side of Wales, to the seaside town of
New Quay (not to be confused with Newquay) on the west coast, and then back again. That's 400 km, in 27 hours. With its advertised 5,000 m (16,400 ft) of hard climbing the ride also grants 2.75 AAA (Audax Altitude Award) points. The ride is a "classic" staple of the UK audax calendar and has evolved over the years into its current form which takes quiet roads to Llandovery, then has a lumpy loop back to Llandovery via the coast before an overnight return to Chepstow on mostly A roads.
400 km brevets are notoriously hard: a ride long enough to mean a sleep is needed, but without enough time to fit a sleep in – unless of course you're a fast rider, in which case you can be home early and don't need a sleep anyway! True to form, 400 km rides have provided some of my most gruelling randonneuring experiences, and I was determined to try and avoid repeating that this time.
The problem I find is that the combination of sleep deprivation and fatigue is utterly debilitating, usually leading to a miserable "dawn dip" towards the end the ride. To try and address this I paid special attention to making sure I had a sequence of full nights of sleep leading up to the ride, and planned to reduce fatigue by riding well "within myself" throughout. I hoped I would be fit enough for this to get me round in time while staying fresh.
That was the plan, anyway.
On the day a very large field (of 185 riders) set off from Chepstow at 06:00 in cold conditions with light drizzle and a cold northerly breeze. I had stayed overnight in Bristol with my ultracycling chum John, who fresh from riding the
Transcontinental Race last year is in training for the
North Cape 4000 this year (with maybe PBP as a cool-down ride). He's a much faster rider than me but even so was muttering about "too much wattage" as we all steamed out of Chepstow in a large group at the habitual over-frenetic audax start pace. We rode up the Wye Valley and by the time we had reached Tintern Abbey the field had settled; I dropped back adopting a "holiday mode" easy pace in line with my plan.
As with most UK randonnées, riders are free to pick their own route between controls, and there were two recommended options to get to Hay-on-Wye: either through the
Golden Valley, or on the "high road" skimming the Black Mountains, a shorter but more climb-y way (I suppose the truly intrepid could even opt to go via the Gospel Pass, as on
LEJOG last year!). I picked the Golden Valley option, and as the sun had now come out this looked resplendent, though conditions remained cold. I was feeling good on the bike. This ride marked the end of an 18-month experiment trying a longer and lower bike fit – after some bouts of shoulder ache on long rides I decided I just wasn't adapting and so reverted to my previous fit (with bars approximately 1cm higher and 1cm further back).
The route had been fairly benign so far, but shortly before Hay there was the first slope that might be described as steep. I clicked the shifter (I have electric gears) to use the small chain ring and – nothing. Click again – nothing. The front mech is not working. Help!
Some assessment was in order: I have a large rear cassette and can use at most its 35T cog with the big (50T) ring at the front, to give a lowest gear of approximately 49 gear inches. I rode with Andrew from
ACME for a while and discussed my problem. He had ridden the Brevet Cymru before and reckoned it might just be doable with that gearing, but that I'd definitely be walking some climbs. So much for "holiday mode".
At the bus stop control in Hay I ate some hot-cross buns and investigated my wiring, quickly finding I had stupidly got a Di2 cable caught in my newly-fitted stem, where it was crimped flat behind one of the facing clamps (duly torqued to exactly 5N·m, which flattened the cable good and proper). I disassembled the stem, freed the damaged cable and tried to de-flatten it with some forlorn stroking, like a child trying to bring back a departed pet.
But when I clicked the shifter there was a miraculous mechanical whine of stepping motor. It works! Phew – back in business. There's a lesson there folks: always road test your bike after changing something (in fact I had, but in Cambridgeshire there was no occasion to use the small chain ring … and one doesn't usually expect changing a stem to affect gear changing.)
The sun was out, the sky was blue, and I had all my gears. Life was good as I made my way on pretty quiet lanes.
Floral Wales
For much of this 70km stage there was an imperceptible climb, which nevertheless rose to a height of 280m before releasing it all in a nice descent for the 10km into Llandovery. 150km done and time for lunch: an enormous plate of quiche and chips. Stamping my card, organizer extraordinaire Mark Rigby (aka Blacksheep) remarked that "the difficult stuff starts here".
With a stomach full of food, I was conscious that some soft-pedalling was now in order to aid digestion, but this was quite hard given that the next feature of the ride was a couple of long drags to get up to 300m again. I picked a low gear and sat and span slowly. In my mirror I noticed a rider approaching rapidly: it was Eleanor of Audax Club Bristol whose
write up of a previous edition of this was one of the things that stirred my interest in it. She counselled me that the really hard climbing lay beyond Tregaron …
But as I approached Tregaron I had other concerns in mind: griping guts. I wasn't sure if the root cause was gas or solid by didn't want to find out on the bike (the dangerous game called "audax roulette") so a stop at the pub in Tregaron was in order to use its bog. Not for the first time I was reminded that bowel management is quite an important part of long-distance riding.
After Tregaron there was some more serious climbing with a sequence of
steeper ascents.
Beautiful road surfaces on much of the route (EU subsidy!)
To keep the effort down when faced with anything steep I simply picked my lowest gear and winched up slowly – a "tantric climbing" method. Cresting one of these climbs, suddenly there it was! The sea! It was time to go down for supper.
Down to the sea
There was a holiday atmosphere in New Quay (@ 237 km) with families braving the cold (6°C) and spilling out of the cafés and gelato bars.
The front at New Quay
I parked up and headed into the control: Mariner's fish and chippie. After my chip-fest in Llandovery I wanted something less greasy so opted for beans on toast, with a fishcake added as a nod to the seaside location.
Healthy option
After New Quay there follows one of the most notorious climbs in the Audax UK calendar, not because of its height (although getting from sea level back to 300m is not to be sniffed at), but because it has to be tackled on a full stomach.
So, back into my lowest gear and winching upwards, up into the fields past lambs bleating and gambolling in the last of the day's light as the temperature began to drop to freezing, making the long descents after each summit particularly chilling on the hands. I stopped and donned winter gloves. And another layer.
By the time I reached Llandovery the temperature had fallen to -3°C and I was shivering uncontrollably as I got off the bike. The West End Café was staying open into the small hours specially, and was doing a brisk trade serving hot food to a clientele of gelid, drawn-looking cyclists.
I ordered coffee and cakes and chatted to Simon P (an alumnus, of course, of CTC Cambridge) who is a veteran of this event, and who is also using it as a qualifier for another PBP. The cold had killed his electronic devices and he was having difficulty keeping his hands warm in merino gloves.
Simon P at silly o'clock
With over 100km still to ride through the freezing night I decided to wear everything I had: buff round the head, 5 layers, 2 pairs of gloves. This, in combination with the sugar and caffeine I'd just eaten, seemed to be just enough to fend off the cold. Better still, the route was now on the fast A40 and a long gradual climb was very warming. For the first time in the ride I was passing other cyclists, apparently struggling in the bitter cold.
The last control before the end was Llangattock, and I arrived at around 03:15. With plenty of time in hand (the final 52km needed to be finished by 09:00) I decided to thaw out and charge my Garmin which, true to form, had decided to play a trick on the ride by insisting it was 100% charged all ride, but which was now saying "Low battery (100%)".
I was feeling pretty good so was surprised to see how awful my fellow riders looked. But when I glimpsed myself in a mirror I saw the same thing: bloodshot eyes sunk into a hectic, waxy face.
I felt better than I looked
This control was catered: audax veterans Ritchie and Ken were manning the kitchen offering various delights including warm toffee-crusted apple pie and custard. I couldn't resist.
Every good boy deserves apple pie
I popped a prophylactic caffeine pill and set out for the final 52km downhill through the Usk valley back to Chepstow. Downhill, that is, apart from one final climb over Golden Hill,
familiar to me from the Bryan Chapman Memorial 600. As the beautiful dawn broke it revealed a frosty landscape, and I paused to take pictures.
Final climb done
I got to the arrivée at 07:05 – with a couple of hours in hand. It had been a great ride, as Welsh audaxes usually are. I may even prefer it to the Bryan Chapman: while the Brevet Cymru lacks the grandeur of Snowdonia, it avoids the Day 2 longeurs of the Bryan Chapman's retour. The course seems especially well-designed, with easily-navigated fast roads at night – a hallmark of a good audax route.
Thanks must go to the brilliant volunteers: organizer Mark Rigby in particular had a longer "day" than anybody, starting at 02:30 on Saturday, then driving between controls to stamp cards and encourage riders.
Analysis
With this ride I think maybe I've found a way to "tame" my 400 km rides – by eliminating my "dawn dip". The combination of restedness and easy riding seems to have worked well. Of all my audaxes ever ridden, this has the lowest average heart rate (apart from LEL, a special case) indicating a low effort approach.
Heart rate distribution (whole ride)
Power too, was low, falling to a fairly modest 111W per stage (for comparison, a typical moderate Sunday CTC Cambridge ride is approx. 100W for me). If anything it would be better to have a more even spread over the event – but it is psychologically so hard not to get caught up in the excitement at the start.
Normalized power (W) per stage
Conditions were challenging because of the overnight cold, but there was no rain and the wind was not too much of an issue (unlike
last week), being not too much in the face.
Wind rose (from mywindsock.com)
So all in all, an interesting experiment providing food for thought in the build-up to PBP. Next up, a 600km qualifier –
The Flatlands.
Food eaten
Before the ride (05:00): Porridge with sultanas, buttered toast
Hay-on-Wye (09:40): 2 wholemeal hot-cross buns, an apple
Llandovery (13:10): Ham and cheese quiche and chips, a can of lemonade
Tregaron (16:25): Pint of orange juice & lemonade, packet of crisps
New Quay (19:05): Beans on toast and a fishcake, cup of tea
Llandovery (23:30): Vanilla slice, apple Danish, cup of coffee
Llangattock (03:15): Warm apple pie and custard, cup of tea.
Strava
Strava stuff is
here.