# What was your most shameful / painful ride?



## Andrew_Culture (16 Aug 2012)

Mine was this cold January ride in Dorset; I hadn't ridden for a few months because I'd just become a parent for the first time but assumed (stupidly) that I'd still be reasonably fit. My brother in law wanted to get into cycling so we hired a couple of MTBs and set out for the day having eaten nothing more than a couple of eggs on toast.

_I should probably mention at this point my brother is pretty fit, in fact he ran this year's London Marathon in 3.07..._

I swear I nearly died. I have never felt so utterly unwell for so long in all my life - the ground was slippery, and the cold air was ripping my lungs to shreds. I was also possibly quite hungover. My brother in law barely broke a sweat, whereas I just broke. 

It's hard to express just how bad I felt during that ride, but rather than being downhearted it convinced me to get back on my bike and ride as often as possible. Now I'm itching to do this ride again!


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## Jimmy Doug (16 Aug 2012)

Climbing the Colle San Bernado in Italy between Alasio to Garessio with a fully-loaded touring bike. I hadn't slept the night before, and had camped about 50 kms away from the start of the climb - which I started at midday. Big mistake. The temperature in the shade was creeping towards 40 before I even began, and I very quickly finished my three bottles of water. There was a little village on the way up, and I managed to get more water, but it didn't last very long. The climb was steep and long, but I kept on gaining then losing altitiude, which meant that it didn't get any cooller and I didn't get any closer to the top. Then I had a puncture .... then another! After 20 kms the heat really started to get to me and I had no water left. A man in a little Fiat Panda went past and handed me a 1.5 litre bottle of cool water - which disappeared really quickly. In the end, I stopped in the shade and decided to wait for the evening. But when a couple in a big 4x4 offered to take meand my bike to Garessio, I accepted. That was the first time I'd ever been happy to see a 4x4! Ever since then I have a date with that mountain - I have to do it again, but in better conditions. It was stunning!


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## Andrew_Culture (16 Aug 2012)

Wow, how bad did you look for a stranger to give you water 

I very much got to the stage where I was fantasising about a kindly stranger with a flatbed truck stopping to offer me a lift!


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## GrumpyGregry (16 Aug 2012)

Shameful? Bonking on my first attempt at SDW in a day. Somehow, I have little actual, recollection making it off the downs and into Shoreham. Loosing the ability to pedal shortly there after. Falling off the bike in seeming slo-mo. Crawling (literally) across the pavement to a newsagents, sicking up the Mars Bar I bought some five minutes after I ate it. Sobbing as, vomit stained, I granny ringed it to Brighton, raging as I failed to cycle up to the station....

Painful? Doing a trailquest with muscle spasms in my back. We needed the points. Back locked in the car on the way to the event and several hours later I had to be lifted off the bike and taken to A&E.


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## GrumpyGregry (16 Aug 2012)

Andrew_Culture said:


> *Wow, how bad did you look for a stranger to give you water*
> 
> I very much got to the stage where I was fantasising about a kindly stranger with a flatbed truck stopping to offer me a lift!


Seems to be pretty common practice in the Alps, Pyrennes and the Picos whether you look bad or not.


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## Andrew_Culture (16 Aug 2012)

GregCollins said:


> Shameful? Bonking on my first attempt at SDW in a day. Somehow, I have little actual, recollection making it off the downs and into Shoreham. Loosing the ability to pedal shortly there after. Falling off the bike in seeming slo-mo. Crawling (literally) across the pavement to a newsagents, sicking up the Mars Bar I bought some five minutes after I ate it. Sobbing as, vomit stained, I granny ringed it to Brighton, raging as I failed to cycle up to the station....
> 
> Painful? Doing a trailquest with muscle spasms in my back. We needed the points. Back locked in the car on the way to the event and several hours later I had to be lifted off the bike and taken to A&E.


 
Whoa!


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## Jimmy Doug (16 Aug 2012)

GregCollins said:


> Seems to be pretty common practice in the Alps, Pyrennes and the Picos whether you look bad or not.


 
I have found that in these places people will offer water very readily. A couple of times, in Greece, I bought water from a garage, only for the salesperson to refuse payment!


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## Andrew_Culture (16 Aug 2012)

Jimmy Doug said:


> I have found that in these places people will offer water very readily. A couple of times, in Greece, I bought water from a garage, only for the salesperson to refuse payment!


 
That's very heartening


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## TheDoctor (16 Aug 2012)

I've ridden with Plax in Snowdonia a few times now.
Every time, I get my arse handed to me on a plate.
I was so far behind her going up Llanberis Pass that she thought I'd got lost...


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## Andrew_Culture (16 Aug 2012)

My Dorset death ride is now up on Strava, it's hilariously shameful! http://app.strava.com/rides/wareham...1MT1yaWRlX3NoYXJlOzI9dHdpdHRlcjs0PTU5NjIzMg==


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## Rob3rt (16 Aug 2012)

Andrew_Culture said:


> My Dorset death ride is now up on Strava, it's hilariously shameful! http://app.strava.com/rides/wareham-dorset-united-kingdom-18681515?ref=1MT1yaWRlX3NoYXJlOzI9dHdpdHRlcjs0PTU5NjIzMg==


 
O.o What happened?


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## Rickshaw Phil (16 Aug 2012)

I don't think I've ever had a shameful ride but the most painful was definitely my first 50.

In September last year the plan was to ride from home near Shrewsbury to Bridgnorth and back. A ride I'd long thought about doing but kept finding excuses not to do.

It started well, I went via Condover, Acton Burnell and Harley, then via the villages of Wigwig and Homer to Much Wenlock where I took a route onto a bridleway. After that it was an easy ride into Bridgnorth.

I had a quick look around the Severn Valley Railway station before having lunch and starting back along the Mercian Way... and instantly loosing my way. It appears that the NCN route 45 has a missing link which I'd just stumbled into.

Once that gap was sorted out, I joined the gravel trail along the old trackbed towards Ironbridge and had gone about half a mile when the front wheel locked and I was flung heavily to the ground! I took skin off both palms, both knees, my right wrist and various places up my right arm and shoulder.

On checking the bike, a small stick (no more than 4 inches long) had flicked through my front spokes, jammed the wheel and brought me off. A chap stopped to ask if I was okay. It was much appreciated but he had nothing on him to be able to help.

After making what repairs I could (the front mudguard was flapping all over the place), I pressed on as far as Ironbridge where I bought a small bottle of TCP and some cotton wool, and set about cleaning the wounds. I must have looked a right sight as a couple of people stopped and asked whether I was alright and whether there was anyone I could call to fetch me. It was tempting but I suddenly felt determined that the route wasn't going to beat me and decided to continue.

A few miles further on I met a couple cycling who also showed concern. At this point the adrenalin was still pumping and I was more concerned about the state of the bike than me. They were able to help though with some cable ties to secure the broken mudguard for which I am extremely grateful.

The rest of the ride is a bit of a blur as the adrenalin was definitely wearing off (especially over the last 5 miles or so) and it really started to hurt.

The worst thing was showering after the ride. It had to be done but....

Until this ride I had never understood how the pro riders could come off at high speed, shredding skin and spattering blood, yet get back on the bike and race almost as if nothing had happened. Now I think I understand..... adrenalin is amazing stuff.


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## cyclingsheep (16 Aug 2012)

During an off season from racing mtb's cross country I was trying to improve my downhill technique by doing a local timed run. The first run went fine, my best ever on this course but I felt I could shave off more time. Second run and I was away but too loose and out of control trying to carry too much speed. On one corner the rear started to drift and I but my inside foot down to right myself. As I was going forward my toe caught something on the inside of the corner basically pulling my foot back in the direction I'd just come. When I skidded to a halt adrenaline was really pumping and on seeing my foot at a weird angle, assumed I'd dislocated it, reached down and pulled it so it was straight with my knee again. Several minutes of punching the ground ensued while swearing loudly (sorry mum). A couple of riders who were following 2mins apart asked if they should send up the 4x4 and at the time I said yes but with having to clear the course first and then wait for the help I figured I'd be quicker riding down one legged with the banged up one flapping in the breeze. At A&E I was told I'd broken my leg and shattered my ankle requiring pins and surgery that very evening. Not a long ride but certainly my most painful.


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## mcshroom (17 Aug 2012)

The CC Ecosse Pedal for cake ride in 2010 for me. I went up there to try and ride my first century, riding from Glasgow to Edinburgh and back again.Very little sleep, a long drive in the morning and they were faster than me. and I completely bonked before even getting to Edinburgh. This led to Scoosh and Semab guiding me into Telemark and HJ's place very sllowly (and at points slightly wobbly). To top it off, I crashed into the back of Tele's mudguard on the way down to Waverley to get the train home.


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## Moodyman (17 Aug 2012)

Went for a ride with my fit but non-cycling neighbour. Me on my road bike with lycra, him with his semi-slick hardtail and jogging pants.

I had a heavy cold in the days before and was still suffering, but thinking I'd take it easy and besides, he doesn't cycle so will be slow right?

Nope. He chose a hilly route and being skinny, flew up every hill. Me, being the 'proper' cyclist couldn't be seen to be struggling, so rode harder than I should have. 7 or 8 mile into the ride I was completely spent and kept making excuses to stop for a rest like: 'need to stop cause I greased my seatpost last night but I fitted it a couple of mms too short' or 'just gotta ring home and ask if they need owt from supermarket on the way home'.

From starting off two abreast, I started falling behind until it got so bad that he'd get about 200 metres in front and then wait for me.

15 miles into the ride and with about 8 flat miles to go, he suggested that we ride flat out for the last third. I agreed but I was already riding at max effort. Very quickly he disappeared into the distant and had been waiting at the finish line for several minutes I when I got there.

I learned never to ride when feeling unwell and never to trust someone when they say 'I'll struggle to keep up with you'


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## Andrew_Culture (17 Aug 2012)

Rob3rt said:


> O.o What happened?


 
I think this segment sums it up nicely, KOM (so fastest) time up this hill was 13 minutes, and it took me 47 minutes!


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## Andrew_Culture (17 Aug 2012)

Moodyman said:


> Went for a ride with my fit but non-cycling neighbour. Me on my road bike with lycra, him with his semi-slick hardtail and jogging pants.
> 
> I had a heavy cold in the days before and was still suffering, but thinking I'd take it easy and besides, he doesn't cycle so will be slow right?
> 
> ...


 
Sounds identical to the mistake I made, my brother in law hadn't even been on a bike since he was a kid so I thought I'd be fine. Big mistake.


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## Andrew_Culture (17 Aug 2012)

cyclingsheep said:


> During an off season from racing mtb's cross country I was trying to improve my downhill technique by doing a local timed run. The first run went fine, my best ever on this course but I felt I could shave off more time. Second run and I was away but too loose and out of control trying to carry too much speed. On one corner the rear started to drift and I but my inside foot down to right myself. As I was going forward my toe caught something on the inside of the corner basically pulling my foot back in the direction I'd just come. When I skidded to a halt adrenaline was really pumping and on seeing my foot at a weird angle, assumed I'd dislocated it, reached down and pulled it so it was straight with my knee again. Several minutes of punching the ground ensued while swearing loudly (sorry mum). A couple of riders who were following 2mins apart asked if they should send up the 4x4 and at the time I said yes but with having to clear the course first and then wait for the help I figured I'd be quicker riding down one legged with the banged up one flapping in the breeze. At A&E I was told I'd broken my leg and shattered my ankle requiring pins and surgery that very evening. Not a long ride but certainly my most painful.


 
Arg! I'm yet to have a catastrophic off on my MTB, but it's a horrible feeling knowing that it probably will happen one day, mind you, that probably won't make me slow down in the meantime...


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## Matt1705 (17 Aug 2012)

A few years ago I was in a road accident and was off work for 3 months. I recovered and went back to work, but a few weeks later I had a minor bump in my car. The car was off being mended, and with my unsociable working hours transport was a problem. 

This day I managed to get picked up in a works van so decided to take my bike (a very heavy dual suspension MTB) so I could cycle home. 

I hadn't considered the fact I was still recovering from 3 months doing nothing so was very unfit anyway. And the journey was about 15 miles. 
I can't remember how long it took me, but I had to stop countless times on the way, mainly to curse that I hadn't got any water, food or money :-( 

Oh how we learn from our mistakes!!


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## hondated (19 Aug 2012)

My most painful ride was several years ago.Prior to it I had managed to complete the obligatory 100mile ride which I thought was painful but not as painful as this ride.
Several of us drove down to Alp Dhuez and cycled up it and several others in the area and then I had the foolish idea of cycling the Croix De Fer.
I set off by myself early when it was cool from Bourg Ouison and struggled up to Altamont. As I rested up at the top I could see the next long drag and so I set off. I struggled and struggled up and up telling myself that I would get there very soon.Completely shattered I took a rest at the side of the road and as I sat there another cyclist stopped and clearly seeing the vacant look in my eyes said to me that I must not give up otherwise I would regret it if I did.His encouragement came at the right time so I decided to struggle on.That was for a few miles until totally spent and knowing I had to cycle back I could do no more so I turned around and rode back to the camp site.
Once back there I was elated at just how far I had ridden but disappointed I had not achieved my goal.
Until I could return the following year I constantly thought about it and as soon as I could get back there it was my first ride.
Needless to say with a bit more struggling I finally managed to achieve my aim and I reached the Croix De Fer and I now look at the photo of my bike leaning on the wire monument with great pride.

En route to the Croix De Fer I of cause had to ride past the Glandon and I wished that it had been my target as the bit of road from there to the Croix felt so far.

Having struggled to cycle over a few mountains now I have realisedthat because I am such a bad cyclist that there will always be pain so I just need to man up and get on with it.

Now at the age of 61 I need to get as many mountains climbed as I can and for a few years now I have had this nagging feeling of riding up the Ventoux so it will have to be done sooner rather than later.

When I do attempt it I am sure that any painful ride I have ever had will pale into insignificance. All part of being a cyclist I suppose and I love it.


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## Andrew_Culture (20 Aug 2012)

Well I'm impressed on several levels!


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## Mad Doug Biker (20 Aug 2012)

When I started cycling again in 2010, I had 3 rides which stand out as being utterly awful for various different reasons.

The first 2 were Sky rides, and the first of the 2 was a 30 mile jaunt on the country roads round Neilston etc. 
Now, anyone who's seen my bike will appreciate it attracts a bit of attention, so I felt like I needed to perform, although I have never been terribly macho, so I didn't over do it. Also, 30 miles was the most I'd cycled since starting, so I knew not to push it.

Anyway, I managed to get round most of the route relatively easily, even getting up all those hills, but I started to fade within the last 10 miles, and ended up crawling back to the start at Pollokshaws Park with some of the real beginners at the back of the pack 
It wouldn't have been so bad, but I happened to meet a woman I was at College with a few years before, and she was happily whizzing about on a fixie! 

Next week, the second run came along, another Skyride. This was actually the second I'd done that day after doing a 20 odd mile run round the Campsies that morning. This was one of the rides for older kids (lycra clad kids on road bikes), and I saw it as being a good opportunity for me to learn a new route at a leisurely(ish) pace.

Anyway, in short, I ended up having numerous clippless moments, mainly because I was knackered and I didn't know the route, and then I had a puncture. The ride leader helped me whilst the others rode on ahead and we started off again to catch up..... only for his front tube to explode, so I then had to chase down the pack, but becuase we had had taken so long getting me sorted out, they had gone and left us behind for good.

The ride leader was NOT impressed, so we gave up and somehow manged to cram both our bikes into the back of a taxi and headed back to the station! 

I hadn't been feeling entirely well during that ride, and was feeling a bit run down for the next week until I did the 3rd, the 2010 Pedal For Scotland Ride. 51 miles, which I managed to do in a perfectly respectable time, even meeting a fellow CCer on the way.
All was well, except that yet again I was flagging by the time I got to Edinburgh Airport, but I manged it.

I got home, and slept like a baby..... And woke up the next morning feeling like I had had 6 shades of s*it kicked out of me, which rapidly got worse.

A couple of weeks later I was at deaths door and was only saved after having major surgery.


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## Nihal (20 Aug 2012)

Mad Doug Biker said:


> All was well, except that yet again I was flagging by the time I got to Edinburgh Airport, but I manged it.
> 
> I got home, and slept like a baby..... And woke up the next morning feeling like I had had 6 shades of s*it kicked out of me, which rapidly got worse.
> 
> A couple of weeks later I was at deaths door and was only saved after having major surgery.


 
 


Sorry


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## Rickshaw Phil (20 Aug 2012)

I'd like to point out I'm liking the write up, not the fact you ended up at deaths door & having to have major surgery.

What happened? (If you want to tell us that is).


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## Mad Doug Biker (20 Aug 2012)

Rickshaw Phil said:


> I'd like to point out I'm liking the write up, not the fact you ended up at deaths door & having to have major surgery.
> 
> What happened? (If you want to tell us that is).



I'd been having dia... dio... Dire Rear for about the week between the last Sky Ride and the Pedal For Scotland run, and every time I ate anything it was bloody sore (I remember being doubled over at one of the food stops on the Pedal For Scotland, but it probably just looked like I was stretching or similar).
I was supposed to stop at another food stop and meet another CCer, but to be honest, I just couldn't face it so I carried on instead 

Turns out it was severe Ulcerative Colitis which just came out of the blue. They tried to treat me with drugs first, but in the end, they had to remove my large intestine, which was.... Interesting - I even asked if they could take a picture of it (as you do), so I have the photo if anyone want to see it! Ha ha!!

The intestine ruptured at one point but somehow resealed itself, and it was about to merge with my bladder by the time they removed it. I should be having the reversal op later this year using my small intestine instead, but one bonus of it currently is that I can't fart! .

Ah yes, the risks of cycling, eh? Some people get hit by cars, whereas I get myself gutted!


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## Andrew_Culture (20 Aug 2012)

There is no emoticon to accurately describe how shocked I am!


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## Rickshaw Phil (20 Aug 2012)

Mad Doug Biker said:


> Turns out it was severe Ulcerative Colitis which just came out of the blue. They tried to treat me with drugs first, but in the end, they had to remove my large intestine, which was.... Interesting - I even asked if they could take a picture of it (as you do), so I have the photo if anyone want to see it! Ha ha!!


I think we'll be happy with just the description, thanks!


Mad Doug Biker said:


> but one bonus of it currently is that I can't fart! .


Every cloud has a silver lining I suppose.



Mad Doug Biker said:


> Ah yes, the risks of cycling, eh? Some people get hit by cars, whereas I get myself gutted!


Sometimes you just can't win. I hope the reversal op goes well.


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## Mad Doug Biker (20 Aug 2012)

Andrew_Culture said:


> There is no emoticon to accurately describe how shocked I am!



Don't worry about it, sh*t happens..... Or not in my case!


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## Mad Doug Biker (20 Aug 2012)

Say, do any of you drink the blackcurrent/berry innocent smoothies?

Mixed up with all that blood, what was coming out of me was soon very similar in appearance!


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## Rickshaw Phil (20 Aug 2012)

Mad Doug Biker said:


> Say, do any of you drink the Blackcurrent/berry innocent smoothies?


Not after today we won't.


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## Mad Doug Biker (20 Aug 2012)

Rickshaw Phil said:


> Not after today we won't.



If it hadn't been for the smell then I probably could have bottled it up and sold it


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## Mad Doug Biker (20 Aug 2012)

I also lost a stone in the process, which, if you know me, is not the most healthiest thing to happen (I'm only 9 stone anyway). Also I had been lying down for so long that all the muscles in my legs wasted away and by the the time I got out, I needed a stick to walk with! (I got a big kickass Oak Lord Of The Rings/Gandalf type one which will last forever!).


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## Nihal (20 Aug 2012)

MDB


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## BrumJim (20 Aug 2012)

Thought I'd leave my story until after this weekend in case I either jinxed myself, or superseded my worst moment (Kiddiminster Killer attempted).

It was the end of April this year. I'd entered a Sportive in Rutland, same as last year when I shocked myself with how well I finished, but decided to upgrade to the 100 mile route, being yet fitter and still having failed to complete an imperial ton.
Memories of previous spring weather had led me to believe that it would be another sunny yet cool-ish day, with plenty of water drunk, a sun-tan gained, and a positive expectation of a great summer in my heart. As the day grew closer, it became obvious that this would not be the case. Instead it would be unseasonably cool, full cloud cover and an odd shower or two.

Nevertheless, I had everything planned. I was to head off in the car, and my wife would come over and meet me at the finish, coming over by train. I'd also see my Aunt and Uncle, coming from the East, and my Sister, Husband and 3-month-old niece, my first and probably only. We'd all join up for lovely tea and cakes in Oakham, which will have a great choice of cafés for such food. We could then pop in on my Mum's on the way home, and tell her the joyous news of pending repeat Grandmother-hood.

Then it all started to go downhill. My Sister was feeling ill, but not saying anything yet, so pulled out at the last moment with a rather snappy e-mail. My Uncle was otherwise occupied, and Aunt managed to double-book, leaving insufficient time to meet up, and my wife decided that a long journey to visit a sweaty husband in some far-flung lands was vaguely pointless since I would be coming home immediately after the ride.

Then the ride. It started off dull but dry, turned drizzly, and then became full-on wet, but most of all, cold and windy. I'd dressed for light rain only, with only a cycling jersey on top, and shorts and bamboo leggings on the bottom. No shoe covers had yet been bought - that was next on the shopping list. By 25 miles I was cold and wet, and the weather was looking like it was settling in to a steady downpour. I had a choice in getting splashed from the bike in front (Sportive, so mudguards were not much in evident), or taking the wind up the front. I was getting increasingly tempted to pull out altogether, and on spotting the mechanic's van (much used for puncture repairs), stopped in the shelter of a convenient arch/lodge with others. It was pointed out that I was less-well equipped than anyone else, but wasn't feeling too bad, and to avoid the embarrassment of ducking out of the impending two biggest climbs up the Vale of Belvoir, I changed my mind and set off with another group, determined to complete the route whatever the weather threw at me. I'm hardy - I've commuted in colder weather than this wearing nothing more.

Both hills tackled fairly easily as I crested strongly (perhaps could have tried harder), and I then headed downhill to the first stop at 40 miles.

I arrived very wet, very cold, and very miserable. We all were. The feed station was less a set of outside tables and smiling helpers (as I remember from last year), and more of a village hall turned into a refugee centre. There I stood and shivered, with an all-over convulsive shiver that rang alarm bells in the heads of those manning the station. There was already one cyclist wrapped up in spare coats and a bin bag being watched by St John's Ambulance, being fed warm water. I was supplied with a child's left behind coat, and kept drinking hot water, moving around, chatting; anything to re-assure myself that Hypothermia wasn't setting in. Eventually, many, many minutes of shivering later, I was offered a lift back to the start. Given that I felt no warmer, the hall was beginning to empty, and I feared that I wouldn't make it to the next stop, I agreed. There are some things worth taking a risk for. This was definitely not one of them.

They took me back in a car. Three of us had been pulled out of the event at that stop. By the time we got back, all had stopped shivering and were back to a lucid state, and very grateful for the help. I returned to my car to pick up clean clothes and shower kit. In my car was a packable rain jacket that I was planning to take with me, but didn't.

All-in-all I was glad that there was no one to meet me there. I had a bike to pick up from the feed station and an ego to repair. I was chastened, uncommunicative and not good company. I didn't realise how much it hurt until I finally completed my first 100 mile ride almost a month later. I don't know where the yell I let out came from as I passed that invisible 100 mile post, but there must have been a lot of pent-up frustration, annoyance and pain that I had hidden since that day, as I was surprised at its ferocity.


The post-script is that there is always someone worse off than you. One of the other sufferers, who had actually reached an early stage of hypothermia and whose hands were so cold he couldn't apply the brakes, works in an outdoor centre in the Lake District. He shall remain anonymous!


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## Andrew_Culture (20 Aug 2012)

Dear lord, that's horrible! Glad you cracked the 100 soon after!


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## Nihal (20 Aug 2012)

BrumJim said:


> The post-script is that there is always someone worse off than you. One of the other sufferers, who had actually reached an early stage of hypothermia and whose hands were so cold he couldn't apply the brakes, works in an outdoor centre in the Lake District. He shall remain anonymous!


 
What,why are you lot looking at me????


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## hondated (21 Aug 2012)

BrumJim sorry to read about the difficulties you experienced but also glad that you achieved the 100 shortly after.


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## DCLane (21 Aug 2012)

BrumJim - I know the feeling. For me it was the 80-mile mark, which eluded me multiple times until June this year (since then I've gone over it several times) with a huge shout when it was achieved.

My worst moment was my first, and so far my only, Audax in February this year; the 120k Mini North-West Passage. I'd just collected the new Spesh Secteur and decided to use it rather than my winter Carrera Virtuoso (my first mistake). It needed a rack fitting, which I did, plus a rack bag I had.

However, I'd not properly set up the pedals/shoes/cleats and not done a full set of adjustments, so took the 'best guess' approach. I tie-strapped a map holder on to hold the directions and thought I was OK 

It started badly, with the rack failing in the first 5 miles  . It was bungee-strapped back on but by then I'd got wet (without proper rain clothes) and my instructions got soaked 

By now I was on my own and it was here the big error came to light. In spending time setting up the bike I'd not paid any attention to the directions. 

Never mind, thought I, and carried on. Now a degree in Geography has some use and I managed to find my way round; every time I asked someone where I was it was always correct  and therefore OK.

That was until I hit the ground at the 35k point. Literally - I skidded on some oil/water and landed on my right knee. The bike was fine but it hurt.

The checkpoint duly came, with lunch and a chance to change into dry socks. Met up with another rider from here and all was OK for the next few miles until I got a puncture, which seemed to not want to be repaired. This took more time and by now I just wanted to go home.

From there until the end it was a hard slog, which I finished within the time limit, but felt battered at the end. Next year I'll go back and do it properly - probably the whole 200k North-West Passage event.

Mind you, a week later and the Evans Leeds Ride It! event was fine. I was also one of the few finishers on the horrendously wet and windy Brian Robinson sportive in Huddersfield in April. So I know that it can be just down to the day/weather/preparation. Oh, and I make sure I know where I'm supposed to be going too


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