ANDY AND CHRIS’S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE

Bicycle Basecamp Contributor, Christopher Catchpole 

EVER WONDERED WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO RIDE ALL DAY LONG? WE DID.
NO TIME CONSTRAINTS, NO PRESSURES: JUST TWELVE HOURS FOR TWO FRIENDS TO GO FROM LONDON TO BRISTOL, TAKING IN A HEALTHY SWATHE OF LITTLE BRITAIN AS WE WENT. WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?
 

ANDY MCGRATH & CHRIS CATCHPOLE

BELGIUM ISN’T FAMOUS FOR MUCH. BUT ALONGSIDE EDDY MERCKX AND TINTIN, PUT CYCLING ACTIVE’S LATEST ADVENTURE. 

read on for the epic tale 

IT ALL STARTED OVER A NICE DINNER IN LIÈGE FOR WORK. I TOLD CHRIS INNOCUOUSLY, “I’VE ALWAYS WONDERED WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE TO JUST RIDE ALL DAY AND NEVER TURN AROUND. TO JUST KEEP GOING.”

RATHER THAN LAUGH AT SUCH A SILLY SUGGESTION, HIS EYES LIT UP IN AGREEMENT. THAT WAS STILL IDLE TALK. A FAR BIGGER MISTAKE WAS PITCHING THE IDEA TO CA EDITOR LUKE. HE WAS ALL FOR IT, SUGGESTING WE MAKE IT EVEN MORE INTERESTING (OR SADISTIC) BY ADDING A FITNESS ELEMENT: I COULD ONLY USE ENERGY BARS, GELS AND ISOTONIC DRINKS, WHEREAS CHRIS COULD ONLY HAVE JUNK FOOD AND SUGARS.

BUT WHERE DO YOU GO FOR AN ALL-DAY RIDE? IT OUGHT TO BE THE EPITOME OF FREEDOM. SO, RATHER THAN RIDE A CIRCUIT, WE SET OUR HEIGHTS HIGH AND WEST. OUR PLAN: RIDE LONDON TO BRISTOL, A 130-MILE JOURNEY.
I’VE LONG BEEN CURIOUS ABOUT AN ALL-DAY LEISURELY PEDAL: A TIDY COMBINATION OF ENJOYMENT AND ENDURANCE. IT’S OUTSIDE THE NORMAL LIMITS OF A RIDE, BUT SOMETHING THAT HAS ONLY SEEMED RESTRICTED BY TIME CONSTRAINTS, WORK AND LIFE. THERE’S THE WANDERLUST TOO. WHAT COULD BE BETTER THAN TAKING IN A HUGE SWATH OF THE COUNTRY AT CRUISING SPEED WITH A FRIEND? WE’D SEE THE BARREN-BUT-BEAUTIFUL GREENERY OF WILTSHIRE, THE DOZING DEER IN RICHMOND PARK. AND THE MANY ROUNDABOUTS OF NEWBURY.

FAST FORWARD A FEW WEEKS FROM THAT FATEFUL NIGHT IN BELGIUM. I WAS COUGHING AFTER MY FIRST GEL AND SPILLING ENERGY DRINK POWDER OVER THE KITCHEN AT FIVE IN THE MORNING ON MY SOUTH LONDON HOUSE, WONDERING WHAT THE HELL I WAS DOING AWAKE LET ALONE ABOUT TO START A MAMMOTH RIDE. COULD WE STOMACH ENERGY BARS AND JUNK FOOD? COULD WE ENJOY IT? MORE TO THE POINT, COULD WE EVEN FINISH IT?

AMC - ALWAYS CHECK YOUR BICYCLE BEFORE HEADING OFF ON ANY RIDE, LET ALONE AN EPIC. MY HASTY HEADSET ADJUSTMENTS FIVE MINUTES PRE-DEPARTURE HAD BEEN WAY OFF: I WAS VIRTUALLY STEERING RIGHT TO GO FORWARD. FORCED TO STOP AND ADJUST A HUNDRED METRES FROM HOME, CALL IT AN INAUSPICIOUS START. 

CRISS-CROSSING THE WIMBLEDON LANES AT BLEARY O’CLOCK, WE HIT THE LONDON SOUTH CIRCULAR. ALMOST LITERALLY: IT IS NO PLACE FOR TWO CYCLISTS, EVEN AT SEVEN IN THE MORNING. AFTER MANAGING TO AVOID BEING MOWN DOWN BY THE CAPITAL’S COMMUTERS, WE PRESSED ONTO RICHMOND PARK. 

THE DEERS WERE JUST WAKING UP IN A COLD, PRETTY MIST. I BEGAN WOLFING DOWN THE FIRST OF MANY ENERGY BARS FOR THE DAY.

I’M A MORNING PERSON. BUT THERE WASN’T MUCH CONVERSATION TO BE HAD, AS CHRIS AND I WERE, SINGLE-FILING, STOP-STARTING AND NEGOTIATING THE MANY TRAFFIC LIGHTS OF SOUTH-WEST LONDON. WE SNAKED OUR WAY FROM THE SPRAWL INTO LEAFIER SUBURBS ON QUIETER ROADS. KIDS WERE GOING TO SCHOOL; DEPRESSINGLY, WE’D SEE THEM AGAIN IN EIGHT HOURS TIME WHEN SCHOOL’S OUT. THEY’D BE GOING HOME, WE’D STILL HAVE FIFTY MILES TO DO. 

ONE SMART ALEC ON THE PAVEMENT WAS EVEN RACING US. WE DIDN’T TAKE THE BAIT THOUGH. OUR PACING WAS SIMPLE: SPIN SMALL GEARS, NEVER FEEL LIKE THERE’S ANY KIND OF EXERTION, DON’T CHASE ANY OTHER CYCLISTS, NO MATTER HOW TEMPTING. WE KNEW WE’D NEED THE ENERGY FOR LATER.

CC - WE WERE RIDING ON ONE OF THE WARMEST DAYS IN NOVEMBER, BUT WAS IT GETTING COLDER? 

THEY SAY THAT LONDON IS A COUPLE OF DEGREES WARMER THAN SURROUNDING COUNTRYSIDE. CITIES OFTEN ARE. BUT I COULD SWEAR I FELT THE TEMPERATURE DROP A FEW DEGREES ALMOST INSTANTLY AS WE EXITED THE CIRCULAR BARRIER OF THE M25, AND BEGAN TO SEE OUR BREATH AGAIN.

IT WAS STILL EARLY IN THE DAY, RELATIVELY SPEAKING, AS WE ARRIVED IN ASCOT, CRUISING AND SMILING PAST CA’S PHOTOGRAPHER DAN TO THE FIRST CAFÉ STOP. AH, THE CAKE LADY. OR WAS IT LADIES? I DON’T REMEMBER, I JUST REMEMBER THE CAKES. A WHOLE BOX OF THEM, WITH ALL DONATIONS GOING TO BREAST CANCER RESEARCH. I’M ALWAYS HAPPY TO HELP A GOOD CAUSE, AND THIS ONE TASTED PARTICULARLY SWEET. PARTLY BECAUSE OF THE SUGAR THAT MY BODY DESPERATELY NEEDED, AND PARTLY BECAUSE ANDY HAD TO LOOK ON WHILE I DISASSEMBLED A CUPCAKE IN UNDER THREE SECONDS. 

EAT ANOTHER ENERGY BAR ANDY, THAT WILL HELP YOUR MORALE. THE CAKE WILL HELP ME LATER, I’M SURE, ALONG WITH THE CROISSANT AND JUMBO SIZED COOKIE. I FEEL GOOD. 

I’M USUALLY A CONSISTENT DRINKER, BUT NOT TODAY. IT TAKES ME HOURS TO EMPTY ONE BOTTLE. I HOPE MY LAXNESS DOESN’T COME BACK TO HAUNT ME LATER. GETTING THE LEGS SPINNING AND THE BLOOD PUMPING ALWAYS FEELS NICE. BUT I DON’T THINK ABOUT WHERE WE’RE GOING, OR HOW FAR AWAY IT IS! THAT’S WHEN YOU START TO WORRY. AS ANDY SAYS, A DOSE OF TOO MUCH COMMON SENSE CAN RUIN A GOOD IDEA. BUT REALLY, IT’S NOT COMMON SENSE, IT’S FEAR OR LAZINESS. ‘HOW WILL I GET HOME? WHAT IF I BREAK DOWN?’

THESE WORRIES ARE EASILY SOLVED: GET A TRAIN AND TAKE SOME TOOLS. ALL CYCLISTS FACE SUCH POTENTIAL PROBLEMS, WHETHER 130 MILES FROM HOME OR 13 – OURSELVES, WE’D COME TO FACE THEM LATER. EITHER WAY, IT’S TOO FAR TO WALK. 

ANYWAY, BACK TO CAKE. IT WAS GONE AND ENVIOUS ANDY WASN’T ALLOWED IT. I WAS ALREADY SENSING, EVEN IN THE EARLIER MILES, THAT MY CHOSEN DIET OF GOOD, WHOLESOME (AND SOMETIMES SUGARY) FOOD WAS GOING TO BE THE MORE REWARDING, IF ONLY IN THE IMMEDIATE SENSE.

THIS RIDE IS ABOUT DOING SOMETHING YOU WOULDN’T NORMALLY DO, SOMETHING EPIC. IT’S ABOUT SAYING ‘I DID IT’, BUT IT’S NOT ABOUT THE DISTANCE - IT’S THE LITTLE, UNEXPECTED THINGS ALONG THE WAY.
WHEN I PLANNED THE ROUTE ON MY COMPUTER THE DAY BEFORE WE SET OFF, I DIDN’T REALISE I WAS SETTING OUR COURSE THROUGH SOME BRIDLEWAYS AND A GOLF COURSE.

HAVING ALL THE MAPS OF EUROPE INSIDE A GPS UNIT IS AN AMAZING ACHIEVEMENT OF TECHNOLOGY. SO WHY ARE WE TRUDGING THROUGH A MUDDY FIELD AT THE BACK OF A GOLF COURSE DOWN THE ROAD FROM BRACKNELL? I KNOW THAT’S WHAT ANDY IS THINKING AS HE PUTS HIS BIKE ON HIS BACK AND SQUELCHES THROUGH ANKLE-DEEP SLUDGE. “SORRY ANDY.”
A GPS ROUTE IS ONLY AS GOOD AS ITS CREATOR. UNFORTUNATELY I RUSHED IT WHILE ANDY WAS COOKING ME HIS (IN)FAMOUS SPAGHETTI BOLOGNESE THE EVENING BEFORE. 

I REMINDED HIM THAT THIS ADVENTURE WOULDN’T BE POSSIBLE WITHOUT IT, UNLESS HE FANCIED CARRYING A DOZEN MAPS INSIDE HIS JERSEY. ALTHOUGH I GUESS THAT WOULD HAVE KEPT HIM WARM IN THE EARLY HOURS. SWINGS AND ROUNDABOUTS – AND MUDDY BRIDLEWAYS.

AMCG - RIDING ALL DAY TAKES IT TOLL, BUT IT WOULD BE NIGH IMPOSSIBLE WITHOUT COMPANY. IF, IN BETWEEN THE CIRCUITOUS NAVIGATION AND BOASTFUL CAKE-EATING, I CAN CALL CHRIS COMPANY.

AS WE TALK ABOUT LIFE, AWAY GOES BOREDOM, ACHES AND THE MILES: THE STRANGE JOBS WE’VE HAD, WORK, MATES, BIZARRE STORIES, GIRLFRIENDS. IT’S QUITE THERAPEUTIC.

BUT, BY THIS POINT, I WAS NEEDING A BIT MORE CATHARSIS. WHILE THE WOMAN IN ALDERMASTON STORES, OUR LATEST STOP, IS RATHER IMPRESSED BY OUR UNDERTAKING, HER VILLAGE SHOP WASN’T SELLING ANY.

WE WERE BARELY HALFWAY, AND I KNEW IT. GOING THROUGH WEST WOODHAY – THE BACK AND BEYOND OF WEST BERKSHIRE - I HAD THAT SINKING FEELING. 
NO, NOT CYCLING THROUGH QUICK SAND THANKS TO MORE OF CHRIS’S NAVIGATIONAL GENIUS. I WAS SLIDING INTO MY LOWPOINT ON THIS LONG RIDE.
THE DOUBTS: CHRIS IS A MACHINE: HE DOESN’T SEEM TO EAT OR DRINK. BY CONTRAST, I’M DOING IT EVERY TWENTY MINUTES.
THE LACK OF EXPERIENCE: CHRIS HAS RIDDEN LAND’S END TO JOHN O’GROATS, I’VE BARELY DONE FIFTY MILES THIS YEAR.
THE FATIGUE: CRIKEY, I ALMOST OVERLAPPED AND CLIPPED CHRIS’S WHEEL THERE. WAKE UP.

AND I STARTED NOTICING EVERYTHING. THE ANNOYING SWISH OF THE FABRIC ON MY TIGHTS, UP DOWN, UP DOWN, THE BUNCHING EFFECT ON MY GILET. THE NEUROSES BECOME MAGNIFIED, ESPECIALLY ON THE KIND OF TINY COUNTY ARTERIES WHERE THE SMELLS (MANURE) AND SCENERY (GENERIC FARMLAND) DON’T CHANGE.

AS WE RODE DOWN ANOTHER BRIDLEWAY, A TRACTOR BELCHED IN THE DISTANCE. CIVILISATION FELT LIKE A DISTANT MEMORY. THEN WE EMERGED FOR LUNCH BY A PUB. AN INDIAN PUB IN THE MIDDLE OF WILTSHIRE. I THOUGHT I WAS HALLUCINATING. I SUPPOSE IT’S ABOUT AS CONGRUOUS AS TWO FRIENDS RIDING FROM LONDON TO BRISTOL IN NOVEMBER FOR THE HELL OF IT. 

WATCHING CHRIS WOLF DOWN HIS BAGUETTE WITH RELISH (OKAY, NO RELISH, JUST CRISPS) DID NOTHING FOR MY MORALE. I HAD TO SATISFY MYSELF WITH ANOTHER BAR AND GEL, WHICH WERE BECOMING STEADILY MORE SICKLY-SWEET.

IT FELT BIZARRE TO HAVE BEEN RIDING FOR SEVEN HOURS BY LUNCHTIME, AND STILL BE FIFTY MILES (AN AWFUL LONG WAY) FROM OUR PLANNED DESTINATION. THE SUGAR WAS HURTING MY STOMACH. SITTING DOWN WASN’T HELPING THE PAIN IN MY LEGS. 

BUT ONCE WE GOT GOING, I SUDDENLY FELT BETTER. AFTER THE TWISTS AND TURNS OF A COMPLAINING MIND AND BODY, A MAGICAL SECOND WIND WAS HERE TO AWAY MY COMPLAINTS. CC - WE WERE FLYING. WITH A HUNDRED MILES APPROACHING, WE RODE OVER ROLLING HILLS WITH WILTSHIRE WHITE HORSES WATCHING US. MY BUM FELT GOOD ON MY TRUSTY BROOKS SADDLE. ANDY WAS STARTING TO FEEL HIS. I DIDN’T QUITE KNOW WHERE WE WERE, I NEVER REALLY DID FOR MOST OF THE RIDE. IT WAS GREEN, BARREN COUNTRYSIDE. 

ON TO DEVIZES (I’D NEVER HEARD OF IT). FOR NOW THOUGH, WE CLIMBED AND FELL ACROSS AN OPEN, WINDY LANDSCAPE. ANDY’S FACE WAS STARTING TO LOOK TIRED. REALLY TIRED. WE PUSHED ON AND STUCK TOGETHER.
WE JOKED EARLIER IN THE DAY WHETHER WE WOULD RACE TO THE FINISH WHEN WE SAW IT APPROACHING. SPRINTING FOR THE LAST SIGN? IT WAS SOMETHING I KNEW I COULDN’T DO.

WE WERE STICKING TOGETHER THE WHOLE WAY. ANDY WAS MORE TIRED THAN ME NOW, BUT WHO KNEW HOW I WOULD FEEL IN ANOTHER TEN MILES. WHO KNEW WHAT HILLS WERE AHEAD, OR HOW MANY?

I COULDN’T QUITE BELIEVE HOW GOOD I FELT THOUGH. CLOSING IN ON THE CENTURY, AND I FELT AS THOUGH I’D JUST POPPED TO THE SHOPS.
THINGS LOOK BETTER UPON REFLECTION: AT THE TIME I MUST HAVE ACHED, THE ADRENALINE SHADOWING THE DEEP TIREDNESS THAT WAS GROWING IN MY MUSCLES. I’D NEVER RIDDEN THIS FAR BEFORE. I WAS SO HAPPY.

UNTIL DISASTER STRUCK. ARE THE BIGGEST HICCUPS ALWAYS BROUGHT ON BY INNOCUOUS DECISIONS? AFTER A BLISSFUL DOWNHILL, I CHANGED GEAR WHILE PULLING AWAY FROM ANOTHER SET OF LIGHTS AND…. SNAP. CLINK, CLINK, CLINK GO SEVERAL INTEGRAL PARTS OF MY CHAIN, ALL OVER THE A361.
MY HEART DIDN’T JUST SINK, IT PRACTICALLY DIED. LUCKILY A CLEVER MAN PREPARES. 

I HAD NO NEW LINKS, BUT THE RIGHT TOOL COULD AT LEAST HOLD MY CHAIN TOGETHER PRECARIOUSLY FOR THE REST OF THE RIDE. CHANGING GEAR WAS OFF THE CARDS FOR THE LAST 30 MILES, I DIDN’T DARE BREAK IT AGAIN IN THE FADING LIGHT. A KIND STRANGER OFFERED US A LIFT TO THE NEAREST BIKE SHOP, BUT TIME (AND IT BEING IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION TO OUR DESTINATION) MORE THAN PRIDE MADE ME REFUSE. ONWARDS. VERY CAREFULLY.

IS IT A CLICHÉ TO SAY THAT CYCLING IS ALL ABOUT HIGHS AND LOWS? OR DO I JUST THINK THAT BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT I TELL EVERYBODY WHO WANTS TO KNOW WHY I DO IT? I CAN TELL YOU THIS WHOLE RIDE, AND THIS ONE SMALL PART, THIS 5 MILE SECTION, SUMS UP EVERYTHING I’VE EXPERIENCED IN CYCLING.

AMC - I WON’T LIE, A LITTLE PART OF ME WAS BRIEFLY TEMPTED TO JUMP IN THE KIND STRANGER’S CAR. BUT AFTER THAT FEELING OF MUTINY PASSED, I FELT THE ADRENALINE RUSH. ACTUALLY, MAYBE IT WAS THE SENSE OF THE ABSURD TOO: A HUNDRED MILES IN, AND CHRIS HAD TO RIDE THE FINAL FEW HOURS IN THE SAME GEAR.

WELL, WE HAD TO FINISH NOW. WE TORE AWAY INTO THE SUNSET: MILE 100 TO 105 WERE THE QUICKEST OF THE DAY, BEFORE SENSIBLE NATURE AND TIREDNESS HAD A QUIET WORD IN OUR EARS AND IT WAS BACK DOWN TO THE RIGHT RHYTHM IN THE LANES BEFORE BATH.

IT WASN’T JUST FATIGUE OR THE DARKNESS THAT MADE THE, FEEL LIKE THE TOUGHEST OF THE DAY. THIS WAS TRULY ROLLING TERRITORY. WE WENT UP A STEEP HILL FOR WHAT FELT LIKE AGES IN MONKTON FARLEIGH – I REMEMBER THE TOWN BECAUSE I CURSED THE NAME AS WE PASSED THE CHURCH ON A SKI-SLOPE-LIKE INCLINE - AND THEN SHOT DOWN AN EVEN MORE PRECIPITIOUS ONE.
WHEN I SAW A 25% SIGN, I PANICKED. CHRIS BECAME A FLASHING RED LIGHT IN THE DISTANCE. I’D LEFT MY BOTTLE IN WILTSHIRE. IF THERE HAD BEEN A SHARP BEND OR GRAVEL, THERE’D HAVE BEEN NO CHANCE OF MAKING IT. I’D HAVE ACCEPTED MY CRASH FATE LIKE A CAPTAIN GOING DOWN WITH HIS SHIP. BUT LUCKILY, MY BRAKES HELD OUT. THERE WASN’T MUCH ELATION ON REACHING BATH. JUST AN EXPLETIVE WHEN WE HAD TO TURN RIGHT UP ANOTHER SLIGHT RISE, WHICH SHOWED HOW TIRED AND UNCOUTH WE WERE GETTING.

ONCE ON THE QUIET COBBLES OF THE ROYAL CRESCENT, IT WAS MORE ‘LET’S PUSH ON TO BRISTOL’. CHRIS LOOKED TIRED FOR THE FIRST TIME. REALLY TIRED. HE HAD A STRETCH ON THE PAVEMENT. I WAS ENJOYING THE CAMARADERIE: NOW WE WERE BONDED UNBREAKABLY TOGETHER BY THIS UNDERTAKING. UNLIKE CHRIS’S CHAIN.

WE DECIDED TO GO TAKE THE SCENIC ROUTE TO BRISTOL. THAT MEANT AN UNLIT, BUSY ROAD. WHY IS IT THAT THE MOST FRENETIC ACTIVITY SEEM TO HAPPEN AT THE END OF A RIDE? THE GARMIN BATTERY RAN OUT. A CAR PASSED TOO CLOSE. CHRIS ATTACKED EVERY HILL OUT OF THE SADDLE BECAUSE OF HIS GEAR SELECTION. I THINK I WHIMPERED AS I HAD TO FOLLOW ONE ACCELERATION. 

WE WERE DESPERATELY TIRED, BUT EVEN MORE DESPERATE TO GET TO BRISTOL.
GRIM ENJOYMENT, FATIGUE AND PAIN WERE HAVING A WRESTLING MATCH. FATIGUE WELL AND TRULY MUSCLED IN ON THE ACTION WHEN, ONCE IN BRISTOL CITY CENTRE, I DIDN’T NOTICE A RAISED KERB AND SLAPPED OFF INELEGANTLY AT ABOUT FIVE MPH. 

THEN CAME PAIN. OUCH. IT WAS MORE BRUISED PRIDE; WHEN YOU’RE TIRED, IT’S SO MUCH EASIER TO HAVE A SILLY LITTLE FALL. CHRIS SAID SOMETHING TO THE EFFECT OF ‘COME ON THEN, YOU NUMPTY’. AND JUST FOUR HUNDRED METRES AROUND THE CORNER WAS THE PARK, THE END POINT. 130 MILES AND I’D CRASHED ON THE FINAL STRAIGHT. THIRTEEN HOURS AND TWELVE ENERGY BARS LATER, WE’D MADE IT. CELEBRATE? I COULD HARDLY KEEP MY EYES OPEN.

THE AFTERMATH - RATHER THAN DAYS SPENT MOANING IN BED AND ORDERING HOUSEMATES AROUND THAT WEEKEND, WE BOTH FELT OKAY. BUT THE EFFECTS OF FATIGUE WERE LONGER: PAINFUL KNEES AND A TIRED HEAD DURING THE WORKING WEEK. 

ANDY EXPERIENCED A LULL IN MY DESIRE TO RIDE, HARDLY SURPRISING AFTER ALL THAT. CHRIS PROBABLY WON’T USE THAT COMPANY’S CHAIN EVER AGAIN. AND WHO KNOWS IF ANDY WILL EVER HAVE ANOTHER ENERGY GEL? 

FOOD/NUTRITION. CC - I WASN’T SURE HOW MUCH OF A DIFFERENCE IT MADE. I ENJOYED WHAT I ATE MORE THAN ANDY DID. BUT I THINK FITNESS WAS THE REAL DIFFERENCE BETWEEN US. IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO TELL IF CAKES MADE ME SLOWER, OR GELS MADE ANDY QUICKER.

AMCG - I REALLY FELT THE BENEFIT IN THE CLOSING THIRD: WHEN I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ON MY KNEES, I STILL HAD ENERGY TO SPARE, WHICH WAS GOOD FOR MY WEAK MIND. MY STOMACH COPED WITH THE ENERGY FOOD OKAY, BUT BY THE END OF THE RIDE, I CRAVED ANY OTHER FOOD.

HERE IS THE LINK TO THE GARMIN TO SEE OUR ROUTE, THE PROFILE AND HOW SLOW WE TRAVELLED. NOTE: THE BATTERY DIED ABOUT TEN MILES FROM BRISTOL,