Will Rapha make audax cool?
Discussion
I for one cannot wait for black and pink RainLegs and a stripy sportwool buff!
http://www.rapha.cc/the-audax-diaries-the-poor-stu...
http://www.rapha.cc/the-audax-diaries-the-poor-stu...
They do get pretty photos
http://www.540network.com/ww/00695/index.html
Posted elsewhere...
No doubt many of you noticed the Rapha wagon at the start on Saturday morning. The three guys that emerged adorning their distinctive attire were Phillip Deeker, Ultan Doyle and James Fairbank.
They all entered and rode the Scenic event, I don't know if the deciding factor was the "shorter" route, or the prospect of a harder route (not that any 600 is going to be a stroll).
Everyone that set-off from Bulwark got my respect - for too many differant reasons list. These guys got it for doing the scenic as their first BCM600 and the fact that they jumped on their super-light machines and nothing else - they didn't read the small print about the bag drop. Yes they were cold when they got to Kings the second time, and again when they got to Aberhafesp.
What follows is a copy of a Ride report that Philip has provisionally drafted .......
620 km with 9,000m of ascent, in Wales. Ladies & Gentlemen, I give you the Brian Chapman Memorial Audax Ride, Scenic Version. Widely considered the Blue Ribband event of the UK Audax calendar, James had picked this one for our BRM 600 P-B-P qualifier a while back. Ultan & I had agreed that it looked an impressive challenge: whether we would actually complete it or not, we had since preferred not to consider.
Had this event been called a “Cyclosportive”, only the cream of sportive riders would have taken part. Outside the registration centre there would have been a collection of bikes whose price would have probably been kept a secret for as long as possible from the wives. Inside, slim super-fit bodies clad in HTC, Garmin-Cervelo, or Team Sky replica-kits complete with waxed & oiled legs, would have been nervously busying themselves over last minute details before the ‘race’.
5 am Saturday at the Bulwark Community Centre, on a housing estate in Chepstow, there’s a different vibe. Outside is a collection of bikes that most riders could proudly show their wives as proof of not ruining the balance of the domestic budget. Inside, calm and confident, modestly-dressed riders, chatted together as if about to go on a morning club-ride. But these guys somehow had a presence about them that betrayed the low-key appearance of both body and machine : these were Road Warriors of a very special kind. Pre-sportive banter would have been full of dread and self-doubt verging on panic, partly designed to enhance one’s hero-status. I overheard just one rider confessing to being ‘a little scared’, but otherwise climbing the equivalent of Mount Everest over the next 30-40 hours seemed to ruffle no feathers on the guys around me.
Initially we felt a little self-conscious in our new Rapha Randonneur jerseys & pink gilets, especially riding as a trio in an event where most ride solo (just to make it even harder still!), but once we all got rolling we quickly settled into the friendly atmosphere. By the time we rode back into the Community Hall car park, 34 hours later, we had gained a true understanding of how, in Audax riding too, the spirit of road cycling is to be found, even without needing to ‘win’. Suffering is present by the bucket load; heroism is the unsaid essence of Audax riding (half-way round, one rider on our event managed to find a farmer with a welder to weld back together his cracked frame – ring any bells?! another rider got round a broken rear mech, early in the ride, by shortening the chain to fit a 42/16 gearing – and I have to mention the guy on the fixie... ) Glory is to be found in a cup of tea and a slice of jam toast handed out to you with a smile by one of the organisers in the arrival hall. No congratulations, no questions : they know what you have been through and their eyes express respect better than any words could. So what had we been through?
James and Ultan had looked after me well as we all ventured into the unknown far beyond our previous limits. None of us had pedalled for so long before. James & Ultan allowed me to catch up when gaps got a bit ‘elastic’ but even so we managed a 25kph overall average (check this) despite many moments which were definitely on the darker side. We were three of the 40, out of the total 180 riders, who had chosen the “Scenic Route”. This entitled us to occasionally leave the “Classic Route” to climb up narrow, vertical lanes until we could see most of Wales and then plunge down again to re-join the Classic riders further down their road. This was by no means flat either, (overall, only 500m less climbing), but usually meant climbing on long-slog A-road gradients. On the second of the eight stages, the Scenic option really delivered, taking us all the way up the Elan Valley, past the dams and reservoirs. Had we not been fighting an evil headwind all the way, we might even have enjoyed it too! A plate of beans on toast and a couple of cuppa’s restored us at the ‘Scenic Control’ café before our route took us towards our Classic colleagues. Meeting up again with some familiar faces became a comforting part of the ride for us after our lonely escapades on Welsh farm lanes. It also meant sub-10% gradients for a while, which was useful!
It was on these lanes that James seemed to have his Dark Passages : he had somehow become our route-sheet reader/navigator (GPS highly recommended for these rides, but I had not found the time to download the route), and understandably got a little tense at times. At a junction half-way up a particularly cruel 16 percenter, where the tempting lane going downhill coincided with a doubting navigator, James suggested we just headed down to the main road, hoping to link up with the Classic route. That sounded like defeat to Ultan and I. How we gently managed to persuade him that seeing Wales again from the top was a better option than possibly never finding a main road, I do not recall. Thanks James!
Ultan had an encounter with a giant white moose on the A470 shortly before the hostel where we were to grab some sleep; and I had survived an almost complete meltdown on a long climb: having over-protected myself against the cold wind and the persistent rain (well, that’s Wales for ya), my eyes were blinded with salty sweat and I totally overcooked. A couple of minutes at the side of the road to put myself together again and all was good, enough...
Ups and downs, for both body and mind, are a constant feature of this ride. The wild scenery, the epic proportions and the impeccable organisation make this event a true Monument indeed. The (name please, james??) Youth Hostel illustrates perfectly how well Mark Rigby has got the organisation nailed. They book the whole place for us for the weekend, and even take us there twice, just to make sure we NEVER forget it. How could we - it clings to the outside world via yet another 2 kms of vertical lane... The first time round it’s a haven for hungry, tired riders; the second time it’s simply Heaven. Our intial plan had been to ride through the night, but after Ultans’ moose attack, James’ navigation tantrums and my own jelly-neck that was having trouble balancing my head, let alone my equally jelly-legs, we were stopping. Full Stop.
So, after another 3-course £3 miracle-meal, we were allocated a bunk-bed each and asked what time we wanted our wake-up call. We had agreed that 2 ½ hours of horizontal bliss was reasonable. I pulled off rain-jacket, shoes and soaked socks and slid under my puffy duvet. A 7-star hotel would have found it difficult to offer a higher sense of luxury! 2 ½ hours of sleep were ended 2 ½ seconds later by a polite prod and a “It’s 4am” whisper. A pair of dry socks helped soften the blow. (Had we read the small print we would have seen that the organisers offer to carry baggage out to and back from this wonderful Hostel. But we preferred to be wet and cold anyway....)
After some more sweet tea and a jacket potato with coleslaw, (interesting at 4.30am), we set out into the semi-darkness. For the next four kms, back-tracking on the road we had arrived by, we met a steady column of single white lights. We had dined, slept and ‘breakfasted’ and these guys were just arriving, having ridden all night. In that instant I ‘met the Spirit of Audax’: usually to see riders behind me would have been a moment for a quick self-congratulation. But I can honestly say that my competitive ego had disappeared. I was humbled by the courage and determination of these guys. How much time it took anyone to ride this was irrelevant (apart from those needing to complete in under 40 hours to qualify for P-B-P). In that moment, these Kings of the Road appeared a lot wiser than the Sportive Wannabee breed that I usually consider myself part of!
I now have ‘just’ a BRM 400 to ride next week-end to get my ticket to Paris. This ride has given me confidence that I can handle P-B-P physically but it has left me questioning my ability to keep a finger on the POSITIVE ATTITUDE button for so long. I’m counting on some of the other 6,000 riders for some mutual help. Suggestions for good cycling Mantra’s very welcome!!
http://www.540network.com/ww/00695/index.html
Posted elsewhere...
No doubt many of you noticed the Rapha wagon at the start on Saturday morning. The three guys that emerged adorning their distinctive attire were Phillip Deeker, Ultan Doyle and James Fairbank.
They all entered and rode the Scenic event, I don't know if the deciding factor was the "shorter" route, or the prospect of a harder route (not that any 600 is going to be a stroll).
Everyone that set-off from Bulwark got my respect - for too many differant reasons list. These guys got it for doing the scenic as their first BCM600 and the fact that they jumped on their super-light machines and nothing else - they didn't read the small print about the bag drop. Yes they were cold when they got to Kings the second time, and again when they got to Aberhafesp.
What follows is a copy of a Ride report that Philip has provisionally drafted .......
620 km with 9,000m of ascent, in Wales. Ladies & Gentlemen, I give you the Brian Chapman Memorial Audax Ride, Scenic Version. Widely considered the Blue Ribband event of the UK Audax calendar, James had picked this one for our BRM 600 P-B-P qualifier a while back. Ultan & I had agreed that it looked an impressive challenge: whether we would actually complete it or not, we had since preferred not to consider.
Had this event been called a “Cyclosportive”, only the cream of sportive riders would have taken part. Outside the registration centre there would have been a collection of bikes whose price would have probably been kept a secret for as long as possible from the wives. Inside, slim super-fit bodies clad in HTC, Garmin-Cervelo, or Team Sky replica-kits complete with waxed & oiled legs, would have been nervously busying themselves over last minute details before the ‘race’.
5 am Saturday at the Bulwark Community Centre, on a housing estate in Chepstow, there’s a different vibe. Outside is a collection of bikes that most riders could proudly show their wives as proof of not ruining the balance of the domestic budget. Inside, calm and confident, modestly-dressed riders, chatted together as if about to go on a morning club-ride. But these guys somehow had a presence about them that betrayed the low-key appearance of both body and machine : these were Road Warriors of a very special kind. Pre-sportive banter would have been full of dread and self-doubt verging on panic, partly designed to enhance one’s hero-status. I overheard just one rider confessing to being ‘a little scared’, but otherwise climbing the equivalent of Mount Everest over the next 30-40 hours seemed to ruffle no feathers on the guys around me.
Initially we felt a little self-conscious in our new Rapha Randonneur jerseys & pink gilets, especially riding as a trio in an event where most ride solo (just to make it even harder still!), but once we all got rolling we quickly settled into the friendly atmosphere. By the time we rode back into the Community Hall car park, 34 hours later, we had gained a true understanding of how, in Audax riding too, the spirit of road cycling is to be found, even without needing to ‘win’. Suffering is present by the bucket load; heroism is the unsaid essence of Audax riding (half-way round, one rider on our event managed to find a farmer with a welder to weld back together his cracked frame – ring any bells?! another rider got round a broken rear mech, early in the ride, by shortening the chain to fit a 42/16 gearing – and I have to mention the guy on the fixie... ) Glory is to be found in a cup of tea and a slice of jam toast handed out to you with a smile by one of the organisers in the arrival hall. No congratulations, no questions : they know what you have been through and their eyes express respect better than any words could. So what had we been through?
James and Ultan had looked after me well as we all ventured into the unknown far beyond our previous limits. None of us had pedalled for so long before. James & Ultan allowed me to catch up when gaps got a bit ‘elastic’ but even so we managed a 25kph overall average (check this) despite many moments which were definitely on the darker side. We were three of the 40, out of the total 180 riders, who had chosen the “Scenic Route”. This entitled us to occasionally leave the “Classic Route” to climb up narrow, vertical lanes until we could see most of Wales and then plunge down again to re-join the Classic riders further down their road. This was by no means flat either, (overall, only 500m less climbing), but usually meant climbing on long-slog A-road gradients. On the second of the eight stages, the Scenic option really delivered, taking us all the way up the Elan Valley, past the dams and reservoirs. Had we not been fighting an evil headwind all the way, we might even have enjoyed it too! A plate of beans on toast and a couple of cuppa’s restored us at the ‘Scenic Control’ café before our route took us towards our Classic colleagues. Meeting up again with some familiar faces became a comforting part of the ride for us after our lonely escapades on Welsh farm lanes. It also meant sub-10% gradients for a while, which was useful!
It was on these lanes that James seemed to have his Dark Passages : he had somehow become our route-sheet reader/navigator (GPS highly recommended for these rides, but I had not found the time to download the route), and understandably got a little tense at times. At a junction half-way up a particularly cruel 16 percenter, where the tempting lane going downhill coincided with a doubting navigator, James suggested we just headed down to the main road, hoping to link up with the Classic route. That sounded like defeat to Ultan and I. How we gently managed to persuade him that seeing Wales again from the top was a better option than possibly never finding a main road, I do not recall. Thanks James!
Ultan had an encounter with a giant white moose on the A470 shortly before the hostel where we were to grab some sleep; and I had survived an almost complete meltdown on a long climb: having over-protected myself against the cold wind and the persistent rain (well, that’s Wales for ya), my eyes were blinded with salty sweat and I totally overcooked. A couple of minutes at the side of the road to put myself together again and all was good, enough...
Ups and downs, for both body and mind, are a constant feature of this ride. The wild scenery, the epic proportions and the impeccable organisation make this event a true Monument indeed. The (name please, james??) Youth Hostel illustrates perfectly how well Mark Rigby has got the organisation nailed. They book the whole place for us for the weekend, and even take us there twice, just to make sure we NEVER forget it. How could we - it clings to the outside world via yet another 2 kms of vertical lane... The first time round it’s a haven for hungry, tired riders; the second time it’s simply Heaven. Our intial plan had been to ride through the night, but after Ultans’ moose attack, James’ navigation tantrums and my own jelly-neck that was having trouble balancing my head, let alone my equally jelly-legs, we were stopping. Full Stop.
So, after another 3-course £3 miracle-meal, we were allocated a bunk-bed each and asked what time we wanted our wake-up call. We had agreed that 2 ½ hours of horizontal bliss was reasonable. I pulled off rain-jacket, shoes and soaked socks and slid under my puffy duvet. A 7-star hotel would have found it difficult to offer a higher sense of luxury! 2 ½ hours of sleep were ended 2 ½ seconds later by a polite prod and a “It’s 4am” whisper. A pair of dry socks helped soften the blow. (Had we read the small print we would have seen that the organisers offer to carry baggage out to and back from this wonderful Hostel. But we preferred to be wet and cold anyway....)
After some more sweet tea and a jacket potato with coleslaw, (interesting at 4.30am), we set out into the semi-darkness. For the next four kms, back-tracking on the road we had arrived by, we met a steady column of single white lights. We had dined, slept and ‘breakfasted’ and these guys were just arriving, having ridden all night. In that instant I ‘met the Spirit of Audax’: usually to see riders behind me would have been a moment for a quick self-congratulation. But I can honestly say that my competitive ego had disappeared. I was humbled by the courage and determination of these guys. How much time it took anyone to ride this was irrelevant (apart from those needing to complete in under 40 hours to qualify for P-B-P). In that moment, these Kings of the Road appeared a lot wiser than the Sportive Wannabee breed that I usually consider myself part of!
I now have ‘just’ a BRM 400 to ride next week-end to get my ticket to Paris. This ride has given me confidence that I can handle P-B-P physically but it has left me questioning my ability to keep a finger on the POSITIVE ATTITUDE button for so long. I’m counting on some of the other 6,000 riders for some mutual help. Suggestions for good cycling Mantra’s very welcome!!
Gassing Station | Pedal Powered | Top of Page | What's New | My Stuff