Sunday dawned cold and bright, the early sunlight revealing the crispness of a mild frost and promising a chilly wait at the start line. Mind you, since the start/finish was also the lowest point of the course, I didn't imagine I would be cold for long!
We got to Tiverton at about quarter past seven, with plenty of time to grab some coffee, get the bikes ready and line up at the start for the second wave, setting off at five past eight. A combination of nerves, adrenalin and excitement meant I failed to take any photos, but it was pretty amazing. Thousands upon thousands of pounds worth of bikes and gadgets.
We had to stop within a mile as my friend's saddle didn't feel right, and it was a relief to discover that everyone who went past asked if we were ok.
Back on our bikes, we settled into a rhythm. S is much better on the hills (up and down) than I am, but I tend to go faster on the "flat", and the first few miles saw us establish the pattern for the day, leap-frogging one another but then waiting and riding together for a chat before the contours split us up again.
The forecast for the day wasn't particularly promising but the early sunshine was wonderfully warm and it was great riding amongst so many people all smiling at the same thing - being out on our bikes with the sun on our backs.
Those smiles waxed and waned with the landscape, which gave us a real mix of steep climbs and fast descents. I hit 35mph quite early on, but also got off and walked if the climbs were too much. We'd long since agreed to just enjoy the day and I couldn't see any point in pushing too hard in the morning and then having to be towed home at the end, my legs nothing more than a mushy heap of chewed up string.
Depending on your perspective, the first real challenge came at mile #18, a particularly brutal climb out of the village of Brompton Regis. S and I stopped for a break and enjoyed watching the same expression appear on everyone's face as they came round the bend and saw what lay ahead. Well, above...
Look closely and you'll see why!
The calibre of the riders who made it to the top was amazing and I swear the biggest sprocket on one guy's rear cassette had no more than 23 teeth, if that.
Us mere mortals chatted and laughed as we walked to the top, cheering on the others and all agreeing that we would have put in the effort but [insert comic reason here].
The route then took us onto home turf for me - the ridge along the top of the Brendon Hills. It's always cloudy when I go up there, and today was no different.
Still, if that looked bad, the views from Dunkery Beacon (highest point on Exmoor) looked as though they would be even worse.
There wasn't long to go until the feed station but having climbed up to 1300 feet, we had to drop back down to the Exe Valley before pleasures such as a hot drink and loo paper were ours. Like I said, S is better on the hills than me, and she's a rocket going down. Like me, she knows these roads really well (better, actually, her mother lives here and she's been driving, cycling, riding and walking these hills for years) and shot off like a bullet. My jaw hit the ground as she vanished at 44mph and I was so busy keeping it out of my spokes that I could only managed 38, my top speed for the day.
Instead of queuing for the portaloos, we went to her mother's house, not far from the feed station, and had ourselves a decent break, finishing off our sandwiches and enjoying fresh tea and coffee and a superb home made cake.
By the time we emerged, almost everyone else had been and gone, the villagers reeling from the lycra-clad tornado that had just blasted through their beautiful home.
The cake was much-appreciated as we climbed out of the village (I had to stop half way up as I'd forgotten to do up my saddle bag and was about the lose the lot) and made our way to the highest point of the route - the open moorland of Withypool Common.
It also started raining: "typical Exmoor, really" was S's wry comment as we admitted defeat and swapped our soggy windproof jackets for waterproofs.
The timing wasn't helpful, as we were about to descend off Exmoor back into the Exe Valley, cycling down one of the worst possible roads. This was my only real complaint of the day. I obviously prefer fast descents on smooth, wide roads, but appreciate the technical skills required to come down narrow, twisty lanes. However, this lane wasn't just pot-holed, the surface was actually damaged. The middle was either grass (horrible greasy after the rain) or thick gravel - actually stones and small rocks in places. I've ridden smoother trails off-roading.
Still, on the plus side the rain stopped once we were down and all that was left was an eighteen mile stretch along fast, though quiet, roads back to Tiverton. Actually, I do have another niggle with the day: feed stations. There was only the one, and water was an issue. They were giving away bottles at the finish - I really could have done with some to top up my bottle on that last leg, which actually a third of the distance!
Anyway, having saved my legs, I had a great ride back to the finish, cruising along at 17mph, overtaking quite a few tired cyclists and, once "home", being grateful yet again for our extended lunch break as most people had long since gone home by this point, meaning that the queues for the toilets and coffee were mercifully short!
My first sportive and, I think, the most amount of climbing I've done on one ride.
- Distance: 60.36 miles
- Top speed: 38.4 mph
- Average speed: 11 mph
- Time in the saddle: 05:28:12
- Time taken: 07:05:11
What's next? My first audax next weekend (The Merry Monk, from High Ham to Sherborne) and a return to Withypool Common at some point this spring or summer, when the sun is shining.
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Sounds like a great day out!
. At the top I decided to have a break. Err....where's the second bottle of water gone? 
. No way I could do Wessenden Head too so headed back over Holme Moss (now regretting the nice tailwind from the other side) and back to Glossop
