Day 1 - Lowestoft to St. Neots
A gentle early ride in to Norwich train station to meet up with Colin, and then we were on our way. We managed to get a slightly earlier train to Lowestoft than planned, which was all well and good until we got there. Having stood on the platform waiting for the toilets to open for 20 minutes (they refused to open them before the advertised 7:30 a.m), I realised as we were about to make our move that I was without cycle helmet, which I know I had on embarking. Fortunately the train was still there, and following both myself and Colin checking the train and the track (just in case it had fallen down there somehow), I did eventually find it in the overhead storage area. And so we headed to the East coast and fresh-faced I was prepared to get going.
The day, to be fair, was pretty uneventful. What do you expect? As we bounced in and out of Suffolk, the country was pretty flat. Parts of the ride out of Lowestoft, and later on as we picked up an unexpected dual carriageway, were fairly unpleasant due to traffic; a smart arse student shot past us up a hill in Cambridge looking very fresh (he hadn't just cycled nearly 100 miles I'm sure); and that's pretty much all there is to say. We arrived at the Premier Inn / Brewer's Fayre, which frankly was identical to the one right outside work, feeling pretty comfortable and set for the next day. We sank our protein recovery drinks and then reviewed the route for the next day. We decided that Knapton on the Hill was probably best avoided as this seemed to entail a 200 ft climb, and worked out a way to circumvent it (a decision which would later haunt us). Slow cooked lamb + orange juice and lemonade in the Brewers Fayre was pleasant, and then we crashed out.
Day 2 - St. Neots to Worcester
The day we'd like to forget. It was hot. Very hot! We frankly had difficulties adjusting to the heat and getting enough fluid on board. Our earlier decision to avoid one potentially large climb at Knapton on the Hill resulted in some awful roads with some torturous climbs, with no shade to speak of. There were several occasions where one or the other of us called for a rest stop, as the heat took it's toll. We did find a cracking public house in the middle of nowhere (The Plough Inn, Boddington), where the friendly barman kindly filled up my bottles with iced water, and quite possibly saved my sanity. It was so tempting just to sit down for a pint and some food and end the journey there. 10-15 miles from the end of the day is when it all went wrong for me. Frankly the heat got the better of me, I reached the top of a hill and couldn't push the bike to pick up pace again. Colin clearly recognised I was in some trouble and thankfully forced me to stop. We took an extended rest under the shade of a tree, as I waited for the strange moving blobs in front of my eyes to clear and took on some serious amounts of fluid (and a double does of energy gel). The body was in serious need of a cool-down.
Eventually I felt strong enough to get going again, and I rode in front (so as Colin could make sure I didn't keel over) and set the pace at what was comfortable. We actually progressed quite well, as energy stores were replenished and finally made it to Worcester. That evening was not good. We were both quiet. We knew we were faced with 130 miles next day, through Brecon. We were both hurting, and feeling that we could not cope with the heat. We wanted to consider options, could we break the next day up and do a longer day 4 (taking the hit on the cost of the hotel already book at St. Clears), but frankly we didn't even have the energy to think about it. After a subdued meal, we put a brave face on it and said we'd see how we felt in the morning (we were both actually thinking that this may be the end of the ride).
Day 3 - Worcester to St. Clears
This day was always going to be make or break, and bearing in mind the experiences of the previous day that was even more obvious. Neither of us really fancied the all you can eat breakfast already paid for, but as we quietly got it down us we did begin to pick up. Extra coffee was drunk, and we took the waitress up on her offer to prepare us bacon sandwiches for later as well (at no extra cost). We were starting to feel better about things and decided we'd just go for it and take plenty of rest stops along the way, even when feeling fresh, and see how far we could get. By midday we'd only done 30 miles, with 100 still to go. OK, it was going to be a long day but at this point we actually thought, "Hey, we feel alright".
Things then progressed well, we entered Wales:-
.. and then got past the Brecons. At 80 miles it all started to look much more do-able. At this point we stared to come down from Brecon. In fact for the next 10 miles we barely pedalled, just spinning the legs every so often to make sure they were still there. This downhill section wound through down through hills on either side, and we were gratefully shaded from the sun. The roads were smooth, the countryside was stunning, and by the time things strarted to even out we were in to the cooler evening. The respite was exactly what was needed and the remaining 40 miles of the day were pretty comfortable.
Just 10 miles or so from the end of the day (between Carmarthen and St Clears), Colin suffered our only puncture of the ride. A well practised tube change meant it barely slowed us down (although Colin's comedy tumble straight afterwards, as he clipped in to his pedals in a high gear and couldn't turn them, used up a few more moments). We stopped off at a petrol station where I grabbed a Pasty and some Doritos to have for supper when we arrived at the hotel (not the most nutritious meal ever, and in fact I only ate the Doritos several days after I arrived home). We made it to the Travelodge, St Clears at 9:30 p.m. in high spirits, despite the long day (unfortunately it was a dive, my bed was too short even for me, and I got practically no sleep), and we knew we had only 40 miles to cycle next day in order to complete our challenge. We settled in to watch the highlights of Wimbledon (some Scottish bloke won).
Day 4 - St. Clears to St. Davids
OK, so the 40 miles or so we had left turned out to be tougher than expected. They know what hills are in South Wales, particularly along the coast road. The ride to Haverfordwest was fairly uneventful, as having learned our lessons from the 2 days before, we stuck to the main roads (in this case the A40) as this provides the simplest cycling terrain .
Shortly after passing Roch Castle, we got our first view of the West Coast as we approached the cracking scenery at Newgale. A quick (and somewhat hairy descent) down to the beach, followed by a short respite as we stopped for some photos, and then we started the climb back up away from the sea and round to the North in search of the westerly point. What followed was the first of many massive hills. The ascent from Newgale beach was definitely a walker, and it wasn't the last along the A487, as the picturesque village of Solva was also surrounded by interesting climbs. Knowing there was not long to go however, we pushed on. I became somewhat hampered as one of my cleats had broken, so clipping in to my near side pedal was not happening, so some of the hills became harder than they need to be. but we were eventually rewarded by the sight of the St. David's city sign (another photo opportunity). There were still a few miles to go through the city (which really is very small), and then on to Whitesands (the official end of our journey). A short break for ice cream, and a congratulatory handshake and back-slap and then we headed back up in to the city. There was probably still not any realisation that we had completed no small challenge, and relatively unscathed.
A decision had been made that we were not going to cycle 20 miles back along the wildly undulating coast road to our hotel, so a search for somewhere to lock up the bikes for the night ensued. The owner of a small bicycle shop, based out of a shack, wanted £20 per bike per night (jog on chap). Thankfully the tourist information centre were more helpful, and they took our bikes in for the night free of charge as well as giving advice on how to get to our hotel at Pembroke dock. We went for a well deserved lemonade at the nearby Grove Hotel as we waited for a bus back to Haverfordwest. A short taxi ride from there to the Pembroke Docks (with the world's most talkative taxi driver come tour guide), and our time was now our own. A wander around Pembroke Dock led to us having a fantastic meal at Seven Spice, which I would highly recommend should you happen to be in the area.
With the riding all done, our bodies had held up pretty well considering what they had been through. The heat had been difficult, and was definitely what challenged us most. It was tough to take on enough fluid, as we seemed to be permanently drinking and getting through 7.5 litres per day during the ride. The aches and pains were not too bad, my left knee started to niggle towards the end (turns out my cleat was angled slightly too far outwards), but there was plenty of strength in our legs to keep us going, and to be honest I thought I'd feel more broken.
So, a new challenge needed. What next? The jog2le anyone?
