GT 24 Take 2

Unfinished business apparently, so I said back in 2016 after my last attempt at the West Highland way and Great Glen Way in 24 hours (also known as the ‘GT 24’). That one was a joint attempt with Saul Muldoon and we rode south-north with some support. Tonight I was back on the 1811 from Glasgow Queen Street, bound for Inverness for the ride south to Glasgow via Fort William in the morning. This time there was no doubt in my mind, I knew it would be tough.

Unsurprisingly it's an early start at the SYHA where I bump into fellow riders Alistair and Tam. There’s only four of us at South Kessock and we soon split to ride our own pace. For once I haven’t got lost out of the start and the going is good, dry trails weave through picturesque young woodland.

Scotland is bonny today; gorse in bloom, broom laden with seeds, and trees fresh with new growth. A headwind is the only factor against me in my quest to reach Fort Bill within seven hours. I mentally tick off what was ridden in reverse twenty months ago; steep climbs and rollercoaster gravel singletrack abound, the payback is miles of commanding views of the Great Glen. After Fort Augustus it's a slog into a stiff headwind to reach Fort Bill but eventually I round the Shinty stadium and pass old Inverlochy Castle to arrive at the end of the Great Glen Way. Garmin says 7 hours and 2 minutes since I left Inverness, a good start, now where’s the nearest chippy?

Only a ripped tyre sidewall slows me on the way to Kinlochleven, I fit an inner tube and hope that this will be the last puncture of the ride - I've only a single inner tube left.  I meet the first runners racing the West Highland Way a few minutes after I get going again, absorbed by their epic struggle they pass in silence. Its a different story climbing the Devil’s Staircase, runners stop to chat or utter ‘respect!’ despite their exhaustion. They set off at 1am today, our challenges are equally ridiculous.

Arriving in Tyndrum by 9pm is a relief, a final chance for real food and a water refill. The wind has dropped and the midges are hungry, they keep my rest stop brief. An Aussie guy wearing a midge net asks if I'm winning, I think so. 

I'm into the last third, and the worst is yet to come. It's late dusk by the time I reach the shores of Loch Lomond and I'm starting to feel the fatigue. Its hard work handling a drop bar bike on the trail which is littered with steps, water bars and tight squeezes as it snakes along the steep wooded loch side. The moon reflects off the loch whilst the hill tops across the water look majestic from down here but the spectacle is marred by my fatigue. I walk more of the narrow trail than I should and that's before the real hike a bike section takes me into the darkest hours. Several crashes and the onset of exhaustion brake progress, a ten minute power nap helps but I curse the seemingly unnecessary climbs that just keep coming.

Finally it's just a sharp shove and a carry up Conic Hill to greet the rising sun before I plunge back down to the moorland at its foot in a blaze of squealing brakes and dust. I’m pretty exhausted now, I can’t get my heart rate much over 100 even on the brief hills, this is like a modern diesel car’s limp mode. As usual time is flying (or I’m stuck in slow-mo). At least I'm familiar with this section and the route does a lovely job of dodging Glaswegian suburbs in favour of riverside paths that spit me out right by the finish at the Riverside museum. Selfie and sleep. 25 hours 11minutes will do.

    

Stats

176 miles

18437 feet climbing 

Dick’s 50 Climb Everest Challenge

If you always do the same thing, you’ll always get the same result. So the saying goes and there’s definitely some truth in it, after all we are naturally habitual in our behaviour. Year after year racing the same events and getting the same results if we are lucky,  watching performance tail off if we are  less lucky or motivated. 

This year I’m racing the Transcontinental Race (TCR); more than 2000 miles from Belgium to Greece and if training for that doesn't require some fresh thinking then I don’t know what does. The Racing Collective’s ‘Trans’ events have been great preparation; big rides which require strategic route planning much like the TCR. I’ve also been riding a single speed Kona Jake gravel bike and doing more races than normal in preparation but I still feel like I could be doing more. 

Early June arrives and I’m aware that I have only 6 weeks of useful training time left before I ride up The Muur in Geraardsbergen on the start of my race across Europe, this is my last chance to train. It’s time to step further out of that comfort zone. 

Leafing through my friend Dick’s book of 50 local climbs a few weeks ago had prompted me to plan a route linking them all together which with a few extra climbs would add up to an Everest (29030 feet of vertical ascent). The arrival of long summer days, anticipation of TCR and a free weekend conspired to force my hand. 

Up at 4am and out the door by 5, 14 year old son Arran joins me for the first few climbs and it’s good to be paced. Roads that are normally buzzing are deserted, Arran comments that it’s like we’re on holiday as we cruise past Crosland Moor golf club gazing at the golden afterglow of a summer sunrise to the east.

We tick off familiar pieces of tarmac; Deep Lane, Cowersley Lane, Varley Road, Hoyle Ing; Arran tires so I continue solo, I’m glad to tick off the 17%+ climbs at Marsden lane. My Cannondale Slate Force is making light work of these with its low climbing gear whilst fat slick tyres enable rapid descending, a welcome antidote to the relentless climbing. By midday I’m finished in the Colne Valley and can move on to the Holme Valley where climb number 1 is Castle Hill. Being focused on an Everest of ascent today makes my motivation a little different to normal. Usually miles are my indication of progress but today the more vertical ascent the better, extra climbs are welcomed, extra miles less so.  

  

Jen meets me in Hepworth and hands me sourdough sandwiches washed down by coffee, I’m feeling good riding on proper food today; pork pies, crisps and dates instead of endless bars. Gels don't get a look in either.

 

The day vanishes under my wheels and evening soon comes round, just another 10 climbs to go when a loud CRACK from my back wheel signals all is not well. Fortunately there’s a spare bike back at home which Jen meets me with in Holmbridge. Midges besiege us as we attempt to swap gear to the replacement bike and we soon retreat to the top of the next climb where a breeze saves us from being eaten alive. 

Darkness draws in and the wind picks up, the climb to the Isle of Skye drags, this time of night is always tough. Everyone else is going home to warm cosy houses and I’m still counting down the last eight climbs. Miry Lane is awarded the ‘bastard of them all’ award, its steep, slippery and gravel strewn surface is particularly unwelcome at 11pm after 18 hours. I take 5 minutes at the top to eat and enjoy the silence. 

Next up the last big one; Wessenden Head - 2.2 miles averaging 7.9% gradient, fortunately I’ve ridden it in all conditions including thick cloud and snow so it feels fairly benign tonight.  One month ago I climbed this in 12 minutes and 17 seconds, tonight it takes an extra 10 minutes - good pacing is crucial today. 

The last steep one is ’The Knowle’ out of Meltham Mills, a 16% lung buster, luckily it’s short and I’m then into the last few. Somehow I missed Linfit Lane earlier so I have to drop back into Slaithwaite to tick that one off. The end is in within grasp as I climb up past the rusting carcasses of obsolete industrial machinery piled high at Scofield’s scrap yard. Just one last steady climb up Netherton Hill remains. I descend this last one, turn round at the bottom, and set off straight back up not stopping until I am above Blackmoorfoot Reservoir. How many feet? What’s left for an Everest? I press the light button on my Garmin and hurriedly press menu buttons to access the total elevation screen. 2, 9, 6, 7, 5!!! I’ve done it! No more climbs needed for an Everest! All I need to do is go home from here, I’m relieved that I don’t need to find extra ascent, it’s been a long day. A final effort up Scar Lane to home and I’m done. All I want to do is sit down.

     

I’m happy to finish that one, there’s useful endurance experience in today’s ride and it always feels good to tick another scary one off. Give it a day or two and I’ll come up with something to replace it with on the list of ‘not sure if this is doable’ challenges but for now I’ll enjoy doing absolutely nada.


 

 A big thanks to Dick Facey for his book, Arran for riding the first ones with me and to Jen at Velofondista for bike prep and support on the day (top catering!).