Columba Chemo Classic Charity Ride

Vital statistics:

When: 10/11/2013

Distance: 61.2 miles

Elevation gain: +5170ft

Café stop: n/a

Route: http://ridewithgps.com/trips/1992595

An 8 am meet at Richmond Comp was proposed by the Café Racers for the Columba Chemo sportive. Not a full turn out: some were at work. Attendees for the day were: Chairman Wheels Whelan, Dom, Pete, Pete's other brother John, and me: the Boy Wonder. On arrival we were surrounded by the usual fellow participants many of whom were adorned in Rapha and Assos gear sporting some very extravagant bikes, all extremely keen to get started. As is normal for these occasions we generally feel slightly out of place and a little uncomfortable surrounded by uber keen roadies who on the face of it appear to be so much fitter than any of us. For approximately 10 minutes we pretended to get ready phased by our fellow roadies and the cold autumnal start to the day. Spirits were however high within the group, a nice ride around the picturesque Yorkshire Dales awaited, knowing that the work ahead would keep us warm. 

In order to get to the start of the ride an easy freewheel was in order. Registration was a well organised affair in a very nice clubhouse. Numbers were given and entered into the computer, the Chairman spent what seemed to be 10 mins shuffling around outside of the toilets without actually going, a very dubious affair the jury is out as to whether he has a sideline in cottaging. God knows how he managed to loiter around there for so long as the environment was 'challenging' to say the least, which tends to be the norm after approximately 100 roadies make use of the facilities. Having finally decided to abandon his attempts to drain his peanut bladder we set of into the cold autumnal morning, just as the rain began.

After 1 mile the Chairman's bladder was unable to withstand his 3 coffees and a stop was required. Most complained of cold hands however attempts were made to reassure each other that things would improve. A good distance of quick miles followed with the group dancing in and out of showers, all were complaining of cold hands and the first worrying signs began. A couple of small climbs were reached outside of Leyburn and hands were beginning to warm up. It seemed that the day would pan out as anticipated. Standing water and a lack of mud guards within the group saw a few of us getting wet feet. Pete the only prepared member of the team was experiencing technical difficulties with his mudguards, however after a few minutes of pulling (which was as technical as things got) the mud guards were miraculously fixed. At the time the wet feet weren't posing too many problems. 

At this point in the ride report things begin to get a little grainy. Perhaps due to the amount of  time spent on warming up hands or the early stages of hypothermia the trials that the road held were quickly becoming hazy (for me anyway). The other members of the group seemed to be fairing better, I however due to my serious lacking of subcutaneous tissue was struggling. The next notable section of the route was the long climb to the top of Park Rash: notable for the amount of suffering that the group endured. The last time we road this section of road the sun was shining, the birds were singing and the skin was burning. Today the birds were getting shot at, the skin was turning blue and the sun had pissed off towards the southern hemisphere leaving us to a 'sufferfest'. Approximately one third of a way up the climb things rapidly started to get worse as we experienced our first snow fall of the year and a head wind that proved mildly challenging. On the up side we were working hard and as a result keeping the frostbite at bay. Spirits were high at the top of the climb, we had endured, we had overcome, and we were pleased with our efforts. The easy downhill was to follow! Unfortunately what would normally be a really positive grin inducing experience the downhill that followed was tough! Hands quickly became frozen and unable to brake effectively whilst our feet were now a long forgotten extremity. If you were wearing glasses they were quickly covered with a film of slush if you weren't your eyes were stinging so much you were probably better off closing them.

At the foot of Park Rash UK Medics were awaiting riders. Staring into the eyes of all participants looking for tell tale signs of hypothermia. The words "pick me" ran around the inside of my head. "Pick me, pick me.." The incompetent bastards didn't. 

We were now on the road to Kettlewell. I was on a fast descent into the bowels of hell. With frozen hands and feet the group progressed. Pete and John were behind. Thankfully they too made it to the bottom of Park Rash unscathed. With approximately eight miles till the group reached the feed station Pete and John caught us up, slowed by my rapidly deteriorating condition. A quick stop allowed for wees and food. Unfortunately all of this was too little too late. Another climb loomed and I was quickly resembling a corpse. The chairman after two weeks of pastries had laid down some serious chub, the suffering wasn't for him and he disappeared into the rain climbing like a reincarnated Charly Gaul and replicating his legendary climbs in the Giro. Thankfully for me Dom 'the angel' White realised that I was finished and his well timed energy gel and coercion coaxed me to the top of the hill and onto the feed station. 

Feed stations are normally places where the group take the opportunity to laugh at others (well they are for me anyway). 1000 yard stares are common place especially on a day like today. This time the group were spending all of their time staring into my eyes and wondering how the hell to get me home. After 10 minutes of moral boosting chit chat, cups of soup and coffee we were back on the road. Straight onto the biggest climb of the day. After what seemed like an endless struggle the group again held back by the Boy Blunder submitted.

It was all down hill from here, well in the main. I can't speak for the group but that was probably one of my toughest days on the bike. Looking back however, and here I probably can speak for the group the sense of achievement on looking back at the day is immense. It was by no means our longest ride and for that reason it may have been underestimated, but it was definitely one of the hardest. In the words of Dickens "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."

Thanks chaps it was emotional!

Adam.

[Simon] Sorry for the lack of photos, Actually, it's probably for the best.