Audax rides

Ride Report - Jelly Fish Legs 400

I'd been relishing and dreading this one in equal measure. I'd done some 'training' in the early part of May out in The Continent so there was a chance I'd hit this one with some kind of 'form', add to that a civilised 11am depart and you'd think Everything's coming up Milhouse!
The sense of dread was from this being a Billy No Mates 400 :/

Straightforward journey on the train up to Stevenage, looked like a fairly low turnout of about 18-20, mutterings of 'quite a few people have bailed because of the overnight forecast' but I didn't pay it much attention, just rolled out promptly. Pretty much straight away I had an issue; there was a disconcerting knocking sound coming from the BB/cranks area any time I tried to put even a little power down. clank clank clank. Fuck me sideways. Anything above the lightest pressure to cruise on a flat road and there it was, The Clank. Absolutely no fucking way am I riding 400k like this. There was no play at the cranks and being mechanically inept I started googling for a bike shop. About 30k in Neill from Verulam CC pulled up at a junction next to me as I was googling, he said my best shot was probably Tring, a short detour after the first control at Aldbury. I rolled with Neill until then and we parted ways as I went in search of a bike shop, Neill was rolling at a decent pace and aiming for "about 19 hours" so I told him that would likely be the last I saw of him.

Pulled in to Mountain Mania Cycles at Tring and shared my woes, young lad said "give us your bike, I'll take it down to the workshop and have a look". 15 mins and a peanut butter and blueberry jam sandwich later my mechanic friend returned, told me the BB was super loose, he'd torqued that to spec and told me that was probably it and all good to go. Insisted there was no charge so I bought a couple of Cliff bars and on I went. Sure enough, sorted. Great, I can crack on now. Legs felt decent and without The Clank I was eager to make good progress during daylight hours. Swanbourne control at 70k didn't have anything inspiring food options so I rolled through, next control was at 139k though, so I had to find something real to eat. The Farm Deli at Winslow just 5k later delivered; elite sausage roll and a goats cheese, beetroot and dill quiche for £5.50, sumptuous. I sat on a bench just across from the shop, had my lunch and waved to a few riders that passed, gesturing about the epic sausage roll but they just waved and rolled on, their loss.

Suitably fuelled I carried on with eyes set on the Cotswolds and the next control at Milton under Wychwood at 139k. Co-Op. Solero, Lucozade Sport, Water and a chat with a guy that I recognised from Rutland Midnight Express last year, how could I forget his gajillion lumens rear light. Few lumps through the Cotswolds but nothing egregious, nice sunny day and bucolic village after village, but it was all just pissing me off. So. Much. Wealth. How the fuck are Poppy, Hugo and Clementine bowling around these places with acres of land, horses and classic cars all over the shop?! Generational wealth and tax evasion, that's how. There's no other fucking way. Yeah, drink your fucking Aperols you cheating cunts. Anyway... some really nice riding through the next control at Guiting Power at 161k and then my eyes were set on Chipping Campden at 180k, that had dinner written all over it. Well, it was full of the aforementioned posh twats and even though I was hungry I could not entertain the thought of stopping there, so I rolled on, surely there'd be more options.

It was now 7pm and I needed real food, mindful of how stupidly early kitchens close I knew I needed to find something quick. Rolled through a few deserted villages and nothing, then Shipton on Stour was mobbed so I kept going. It was now well past 8pm, I got to a main road and saw signs for a pub just off route, The Yew Tree in Avon Dassett, just on the other side of the M40. Mini steak and ale pie, ham and mushroom pizza, coke, pint of shandy and a slice of triple chocolate cake all in a nice warm pub. Arm warmers and hi-viz gilet on I got back on route and into Northamptonshire, I arrived at the Towcester services control (246k) just after 10:30pm where I found Neill tucking into a Big Mac, he was surprised to see me and muttered that I had made good time. Not long since I'd eaten but I still managed a veggie wrap, apple pie and Oreo McFlurry. I asked Neill if he wanted to roll together for a bit, see how we got on, he was happy to do so which was a big relief as I didn't fancy riding solo through the night. Leg warmers, insulated gilet, gloves and winter cap on I was cozy but spirits were low; didn't really fancy what was to come. Just as I was putting my shoes back on I heard the opening horns of Conga by Miami Sound Machine
. Towcester is a long way from 1980s Miami in every conceivable way but there is no way you can hear that song, wherever you are and whatever you're up to, and not smile and be lifted! Just what as needed before tackling Northamptonshire, which was a bit lumpier than expected but still we made good progress through the stillness of the night.

Market Harborough, 300k. Got there about 1:15am, one of those out-and-back service station controls, we saw another rider on his way back as we were on our way there, the only other soul we'd seen. Maccies was closed and we didn't even try the drive-through as they're always cunts about that, M&S at the BP garage was window service only. Wasn't particularly hungry so just had a cereal bar, topped up bottles and off we went. Next control was Gamlingay at 379k, "about three hours I reckon", said Neill... Mate, I might need a little break on the way there to think about my life choices, as per usual. Not long after leaving Market Harborough it started, the rain. light at first and despite my pleas to The Almighty it did not go away. Oh no. It got stronger. I accepted my soggy fate and put my rain jacket on, this was going to be a very wet 100k. And so it proved, chat was reduced to the bare minimum and we woke up village after drenched village with the obnoxious squeal of our brakes. Sorry. The thick cloud robbed us of a nice sight of first light and after what seemed like an interminable section between controls we arrived at Gamlingay just before 5am, 379k. That took its toll.

The rain did not relent. Standing water everywhere, constant jeopardy with water-filled potholes, having to pick your way through potential ride-ending hazards all the time when you're tired and sleep deprived is really, really draining. I kept looking down at my Garmin to see how long we had left and Stevenage was getting closer, but at what felt like glacial pace. Eventually we made it, 6:30am. Finish control wouldn't be manned until the 'spoons opened at 8am so it was time to go home, but because of engineering services there weren't any trains until 9:30am. I knew this, so in the back of my mind I was prepared for having to ride to Harpenden where trains back to London were running, but I was absolutely smoked and could not ride any further in the rain. I thanked Neill for his company and made my way to Stevenage train station, after a little persuasion a friendly taxi driver let me chuck my filthy bike in the back and I sat in his car, begging him to turn the heat up to the max and nodding off when he wasn't taking the racing line at roundabouts.

It was eventful, it was quick by my standards and it'll take me about a week to recover from it.