Monday 19 September 2016

Riding to Geneva

I've started to see cycling as a way to get to see places. I've read a few accounts now of people who have ridden their bikes around the world and the stories are full of the excitement of the journeys.

I wanted to get some long rides in as part of my training for an upcoming race and I decided that instead of the usual rides out to the hills and back, or out to Windsor and back, it is much more fun to go from one place to another and travel some distance.

Over the last few months I've been trying out carrying my new tent, I did a one night stay in Wittering then another one night trip to Brighton. All went well so I planned a bigger trip.



Brighton



New tent at East Wittering

Geneva is about 700km away from Dieppe and looked like a good target to achieve in a week, without stressing too much over daily mileage. I also wanted to plan as little as possible and push myself a little into the unknown of where I'd end up each night.

My main problem was how to get my bike home safely in the plane from Geneva... A sturdy bike box is really the only option for a carbon fibre road bike.
After looking into buying one in Geneva (expensive) or buying one online and having it delivered to a friend's address over there, it all seemed pretty complicated.

I found a long term solution to travelling with a bike... A few clicks and a stronger little bike for touring arrived on my doorstep a couple of days later. Say hello to Gertrude, my new GT Grade!

Here's Gertrude loaded with luggage and ready to go.



She's a tough little aluminium framed cyclocross bike with a basic gear setup that hopefully I'll be able to get spares for all over the world.
I can put Gertrude into a cardboard box for the flight, sourced locally. Sorted.

Dieppe ferry booked and return flight booked and we were all set!

I planned my route, avoiding Paris centre, but I wasn't too worried about following it exactly. I took a compass with me and intended to head South East, referring to the map route for rough direction.



Day 0 Saturday.
So I finished work and grabbed the bike. Jumped on the train to Clapham and should have had about an hour to spare.
Except my train didn't stop at Clapham because the crew had turned up late... Strikes and more
cancellations meant a bit of stress getting to the port at Newhaven, but finally I arrived with 5 minutes before the cut off time!

It turned out to be a blessing, because the guard on the train had been on part of my route several times and told me the way to the start of the Avenue Verte, an off road cycle route all the way to Paris.
I'd been this way before, en route to Paris and back, but a few years ago.

Got absolutely soaked in a downpour at Newhaven in the ferry queue! I also slipped off my pedals and cut my ankle. I didn't dare look how badly until the ferry was under way, but I could feel the blood running down onto my foot! Turned out it wasn't life threatening :)

After a little bit of sleep it was time to get off at Dieppe. Still raining and pitch black. Off we went, Gertrude and I.

Day 1 Sunday.

My 4.30am start wasn't particularly glamorous but I found the way onto my route and I had the first 20 miles to myself, not one other person on the Avenue Verte!
Dawn came about 6 but it was still another couple of hours until the coffee shops would open. I stopped and had the breakfast I'd brought in a little cycle picnic place.



I'd made some onigiri, Japanese parcels of rice covered in seaweed. I filled mine with bacon and cheese.

          

My first coffee was 4 euros! But I finally felt like I was on holiday.



I kept pedalling, seeing familiar places from my previous Paris trip.
The countryside opened up to rolling fields.



Because I'd started so early my whole food routine was out of sync with the French system. I was looking for somewhere for dinner but my watch said it was only lunchtime! All the restaurants were closed by the time I was really hungry, but in the end I found a really good Moroccan place.


After my mid afternoon dinner and half bottle of wine I looked ahead on the map and planned a stopping point. Triel sur Seine looked good and there were two campsites on Google maps, on the bank of the Seine.



First day went well and I'd already covered 168km, at a very easy pace, with lots of stops.

Day 2 Monday.

Somehow I managed to sleep 13 hours! Maybe made up for only 1 hour of broken sleep on the ferry!
I packed up and set off, soon stopping for breakfast.



This would be the last bit of the familiar route, now I headed away from Paris and past the front of the Palace of Versailles.


Versailles is a small city with cyclists sharing paths with pedestrians so progress was slow and I had to stop a frustrating number of times to find my way out of the city!
Eventually I got out and back into the farm landscape.


I'd realised that there would be limited opportunities to charge my phone, so it was only switched on for really worthwhile photos...


The other thing that was in short supply was places to buy food. I saw a busy boulangerie and stocked up on baguette. No room on bike to carry it but luckily my cycle kit manufacturers had thought of that.



As the sun started to go down I started to think about a campsite for the night. I asked a couple of locals but nothing seemed nearby. Google found one 8km away so I followed Google's cycle route... Through a dark forest track then a farmer's field.... Just as well I had a cyclocross bike! Gertrude was not impressed and got shaken up but everything stayed on the bike.



I knew I'd gone round in a big circle when I passed a field of mint for the second time... It was really refreshing on a hot evening! Daytime temperatures were 30 degrees.

I found the campsite as darkness closed in. No one in the office so I pitched up and sorted it out with the man in the morning.
Really friendly bloke and a lovely clean campsite in Mondeville. If I remember the name I'll add it here later!

I learnt my lesson here though, I'd left it too late to find a campsite on this day and had to double back to get one before darkness.

Didn't get a huge mileage in today, but 113km closer to Geneva.

Day 3 Tuesday.

I'd really started to enjoy my trip now. I was well into France and the scenery was spectacular.

Clear blue skies and 30 to 35 degree warmth. Very glad I was in no rush and I was stopping in every place that looked interesting.



Lunch here.


More smooth roads and sunshine. Car drivers in France pass you slowly and give you about 3 metres of space when they pass. Completely stress free.


I looked ahead on my map and thought I might be in Chablis at around dinner time. Sounded like a nice place to pitch up for the night as well.

Vineyards everywhere.



Found a lovely campsite next to a stream. The lady owner spoke very good English and told me that restaurants stop serving at around 8pm.
A bit of a rush to get the tent up and shower and I just made it to get my steak and chips with lots of wine.
Camping here is so cheap. This one was 7 euros.
Had a chat to another cycle touring guy here, he'd come from Holland with his friend but his friend had been called home and he was continuing alone.

154km today.

Day 4 Wednesday.

The days were really warming up and my routine had developed into stopping at every opportunity to refill my water bottles. A lot of villages looked deserted and windows shuttered, no shops at all.

I found a beautiful little town for breakfast. It was market day here.
There was a small group of Americans on a sight seeing trip, but we were in the middle of know where!




Just as I was leaving, my friend from the campsite arrived on his bike. He was headed away from my route from here but it was nice to see a friendly face!

Although I'd rehydrated and topped up my water, it was a long stretch to the next village.
Every sign gave hope that in a few kilometres the next village would have a shop or bar for water, but one after another they turned out to be ghost towns, nothing open and not a soul in sight.

One village I saw a farmer in his barn so I stopped and asked him if there was a shop or bar in the village. 'Non' came the sharp reply and he turned and walked away. Fair enough, there's always one.

I went on and saw some builders working. I asked a guy and he said there was a shop in a village 10km further down the road, but it was in the wrong direction for me. I thanked him and was about to go when he asked if I needed a drink. I gave him my 2 empty water bottles and he smiled and filled them up, reaffirming my belief in humanity.

I did have my water filter with my, so could have drunk out of a stream or puddle, but that was best left for an emergency.

A bit further on I arrived, sun baked and sticky, in an ancient city with cobbled streets.
A restaurant was the first thing I saw and after a beer I was served the best salad I've ever had!



Back on the road and it looks like the Tour came this way.

I picked up an extra bottle of water and put it in my rear (baguette) pocket.



I'd got quite used to the solitude of the road and was quite happily rolling along, when all of a sudden a girl overtook me on her bike, also loaded with luggage.

We both said bonjour, and she rode away ahead. I was really tempted to slightly speed up, to have a conversation or some company, but I was here on the trip to do some easy paced training, so I carried on at my slower pace.

A couple of miles up she was stopped. I asked if she was ok and she was working out her route. She asked where I was headed and we were going in the same direction but she was taking a route alongside the river. She said I could go that way too but I decided to stick to my route.
We said bye and both headed off.

Ten minutes later I heard a shouting behind me and I stopped. She was back, she said she couldn't risk a puncture and thought it was better to ride with me.

She was an American living in Paris and her name was Natalie. She told me several times that she had a partner who would be joining her soon. She said she had to be careful travelling alone. 

It turned out that Natalie had decided to go on a solo 6 day cycling trip just the previous day, and this was her first day. She was pretty flustered but it was nice to have someone to chat to, we rode together for 20 miles or so. 

She was buying a house for 35,000 Euros that had no roof, but for now she lived in Paris.

At the turnoff for my campsite we stopped and said goodbye. I hope she finished her trip, I looked up where she was going that day and she still had another 20 miles to go. She only had a sip of water left but wouldn't accept any from me.


My campsite was lovely! The lady in reception was really friendly and talked to me for ages, laughing and chatting. Unfortunately my French isn't very good, but it sounded like a good conversation she was having!

What I did catch was that they had a Zumba class at 8pm. Tempting.


They had a little restaurant on site here which made it really easy for me. Unfortunately my burger came out at the same time as Zumba started. Then after that I ordered another burger and more beer.

Very hot day, 104km covered.


Day 5 Thursday.

There's a road out near Windsor, Berkshire called Drift Road. All the cyclists around here know it because it's long, straight and unforgivingly relentless in it's duration. No reason to stop pedalling at  any point along it's length... Must be 2 or 3 miles of dead straight road.

Well after an initial 20 miles into a town called Beaune, I hit a road just like Drift Road. 
Then a slight bend and... Another Drift Road duplicate ahead.

Nearly the whole day transpired to be one endless straight road after another! 35 degrees with sunshine on hot tarmac and I was praying for some bends, hills, anything other than more straight exposed road!!



I got to a tiny village and stopped for some refreshment. By now I'd skipped the formality of eating before drinking and went straight for the bar and ordered a beer.
Opposite was a boulangerie which, as luck would have it, was open. By luck I'd arrived at the one single hour the shop was open each day.

I went back in the bar and asked the bar lady if I could eat a baguette from the boulangerie with my beer.
'No! You cannot have a picnic here!' was my translation of her swift reply.
Initially taken by surprise and made to feel silly, I remembered that the French use the term picnic for any dining outside of a restaurant and she wasn't insulting me!

She went on to say that she could sell me a baguette from the bar though, and it all made sense.

I ordered a cheese and ham baguette, paid, and she walked over to the boulangerie and brought me one back. 
I was too hungry to laugh at the irony.

Arrived finally in Lons le Saunier after covering 124km.


Day 6 Friday.

I knew that today would be a day of cycling up through the Jura Mountains. What took me by surprise a little was that it was 80km of cycling up... and up, the mountains!

Nearly at the top I passed through the Swiss border. No one there so cycled straight through and up to the top through Swiss chalets and fields with cows with bells. Beautiful.



The descent which followed, around hairpin switchbacks on smooth tarmac, through pine forests, was worth every bit of the day cycling uphill.

I pushed my luck as much as I dared on my luggage laden Gertrude round the wiggly road down. It was a buzz!!

Lake Geneva came into view and I stopped for a quick photo.


Before long the road flattened out a bit and I rolled down to the edge of the lake, to stop for a celebratory beer and an expensive bottle of Swiss water!


I waded into the lake here in my cycing shorts and had a little swim.

Carried on for a few miles and found a campsite next to pub-restaurant place on the lake.


I hadn't really thought about what Switzerland would be like, but it turns out that they don't like taking Euros, you need a different type of travel adaptor, and the green signs are for motorways... Don't ask how I found out the last one :)

I got my phone charged in a restaurant and again by a couple at the campsite. I was here for a couple of nights so I met a few people who chatted about cycling.

Sunrise from my campsite was stunning.


So I'd got to Geneva with 2 days to spare. I went into town and looked round the designer shops, admired the flashy cars, ate and drank lots and ventured onto their man made island in the middle of the lake.



My friend was climbing Mont Blanc, which is in the centre of this picture. Unfortunately it was unseasonably hot, meaning rockfall which made it too risky to summit.

There was a climbing wall in the water, which was more slippery than I'd expected, but I did make it to the top. Not quite Mont Blanc, but satisfying all the same!


The last piece of the puzzle for my trip was getting my bike home. I rode up to the airport early and investigated cardboard boxes.
20 Swiss Francs seemed steep so I went to the arrivals area and my luck was in, a guy had just unpacked his 2 bikes and dumped his boxes, so I had a choice of 2 for free.



All went swimmingly until I got back to Gatwick and missed the last train home. No problem, I'll cycle the 35 miles.
Only at some point in Geneva I'd half broken my chain and Gertrude needed nursing home if we were going to make it.
I reassembled the bike on the departure ramp then stripped naked and put on my cycling clothes, half shielded from view by my cardboard box.

No one seemed to notice my public indecency until a security guard came over and asked if everything was ok, then took my box away.

Gertrude and I rode away at almost midnight into a foggy night. 
My phone was flat so I navigated by street signs. If the chain had snapped I would have been in the middle of nowhere facing a long walk!
Luckily I'd taken good lights, the roads were mostly unlit for the first 20 miles.

I'm very glad to say that the chain held together and we made it home at around 1.30am, giving just enough time for some sleep before getting up at 6.30 for work.


All in all a very successful adventure. I really enjoyed every day, so much to see and experience. 
I expected to feel a bit lonely and isolated at times, but this didn't happen until I was in Geneva. 2 days was more than I needed here.

I'm hoping to pick up where I left off next time, fly out to Geneva and head East toward Vienna or down through Italy. 
I feel like this trip has given me the experience and confidence I needed to open up possibilities all over the world!

Russell :)



Tuesday 17 May 2016

Fred Whitton Challenge and Scafell Pike hike

This is last weekend's trip, just got round to writing it up.

Last year when I was really fit I thought it would be a great idea to enter the ballot for an entry to the Fred Whitton Challenge.
This is a sportive ride in the Lake District of 112 miles but more importantly 3900 metres of hills. It's dubbed the hardest sportive in the UK!

I thought about cancelling my entry again and again because I wasn't anywhere near fit enough to make it round the course, but going out with Kingston Wheelers and lots of rides with my cycling friend Ian just about got me to the start line.

The trip up there was late, I had work that Saturday and left mine at about 5pm.
A last minute decision by Gary and Ian to both come with me was great. So much better with company! 


We got to the hotel about 11pm and tried to sleep. Inevitably the more I tried the more elusive sleep was! I ended up getting 2 hours before the alarm went off at 4.30am.


Down to the race start, registered and was on the start line at 7am. Gary was going out for an unplanned ride and Ian would take a couple of shortcuts but do the bulk of the FW.
I left them and headed out. The road very soon started going upwards, the first real hill, Kirkstone Pass was about 400 metres of climbing at about 12%.

On the descent the other side a poor guy had crashed and although the ambulance service were there, he didn't look too good. Bike snapped in half.
I slowed down after that.


Up, down, up, down and then up a particularly steep hill.
'Rusty!!' Gary's voice recognisable above the screams of my legs complaining. I said hello but unfortunately it was too steep a hill to stop.
When I got to the top we were all stopped while the air ambulance took away another badly inured rider.
Gary soon joined me in the cafe.


I stopped at the first official food stop at 50 miles ish then carried on and saw Gary again half way up Newlands. Stopped for a chat then carried on to try to catch Ian.
They were ahead although I'd started first because they weren't following the course.

Text messages were taking an age to get through and it seemed like Ian was quite a way ahead.

The spectators were absolutely fantastic and made us all feel like heroes. A very welcoming community.

In contrast, I got to the top of one long climb and a guy looked at my Tourmalet cycle jersey and said
'Ah!! Tourmalet!! Your mate says you're a pussy and he's whipping your ass!!'
I'd just enough breath left to laugh and ask how far ahead he was. They couldn't remember.

Randomly a bit later I stopped and Ian cycled up from behind me, he'd just been in a cafe.
Rode the second half of the ride with him which really helped with moral.

Unfortunately at one point Ian made a mistake and ended up crashing into a soft bank. As he was laughing I decided the best thing I could do was to take a picture.


The last two big hills are stuff of cycling legend and nightmares. Hardknott Pass and Wrynose both have gradients of 30% and are almost impossible to ride up.
As they appear around 100 miles into the course your legs are already lifeless.


The guy in front of me started up and wobbled before doing a spectacular wheelie which then put him on his back and his bike went over his head.
He was unhurt and I managed to avoid him although he rolled completely across the road!

I think I managed to get about 100 metres up the hill before getting off the bike. Importantly this was about 1 metre further than Ian, although on the next hill the situation was reversed and Ian won by a metre!


This is me :)

The end of the ride I was happy to let Ian drag me home in his slipstream. Arrived at the finish line to a very low key celebration of some clapping. No medal or finishers t shirt here, just the knowledge that you did it.

So obviously I bought my own finishers cycle jersey, at a cost of £65! The red pattern at the top is the profile of the hills on the course.




That night we ate well (check the calories burned above) and set up our tents ready for the next days challenge.


We got up and after a good breakfast we hiked 13 miles up Scafell Pike, England's highest mountain.
It was a fabulous day and the views were spectacular.


I got to test my new Sawyer mini water filter in a stream, nobody was ill so I'll call that a success.


It turned out Gary had a hidden talent for hillwalking and was the first to the top, and the first back down again.




9 hours after we set out we were back at the camp. 

Quick dinner, drive home via Stafford to drop Ian and Thorpe to drop Gary.
I got home at 3.45am Tuesday morning, a bit later than planned!

Totally shattered for a couple of days after but it was well worth it. A really good weekend.
Cheers guys!