Tell us about your weekend ride

TW2, Smallfurry and I entered a sportive (somewhat) local to Smallfurry this weekend.

TW2 and I flew out on Friday, where we were met by SF who drove us to Gerainger.

We put the bikes together, stacked them against the dining table and went down into town for dinner.

The next morning saw us waiting at the harbour for the 08.30 start, which when it came saw us ride up Dalsnibba:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/328064607

We descended back to Gerainger (which was tremendous fun), then we ran back up to the top of Dalsnibba:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/328064621

This was quite a lot harder, and SF and I did a fair amount of walking toward the end.

We still had a fantastic sense of achievement at having visited the peak twice in one day, both times under our own power:

Looks great (the cycling bit).

The next morning dawned (a considerable time before we got up):

We packed, left our cabin and climbed Eagle Road:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/328787436

Then we climbed Trollstigen:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/328787480

Nice work.

2,900 metres of climbing on the bikes, 1,569 metres of climbing on the run.

Norway is stunning- and based on our trip, permanently sunny.

That looks superb that Norway does. Good work - what is this jogging, or yogging, thing of which you speak? Sounds hideous...

Well done! That red bike looks really nice.

great trip

Twas an amazing weekend. All The best local climbs. The very best weather, and great company.

Dammit et al have just rendered everyone else's weekend ride a moot point. Chapeau

smallfurry, bmc, dibs.

Nutters. Top work, all three of you, amazing pictures too.

London to Brighton, all went pretty smoothly and knocked about an 40mins off my last time. Pushed things harder than I thought and pussied it by getting a cab to Uckfield to get the train home, only to get there and find there was rail replacement bus instead. Then fucking fucking prick of a driver told me it was "illegal" for him to take my bike on, so the next nearest station was Oxted, 25miles away. Bumped into another guy who was in the same boat, so me and him set off on the B2026 through rolling hills and some great descents, both of us already with 65miles done and wobbly legs. Finally got the train back to Victoria and slowly trundled home, ticking me just over the 100mile mark. Fucking knackered, twice as far as I'd planned on cycling but was my first ever century (yes, I know it was a it of a cheat one, but fuck off.)

Note to self, do not drink a bottle of wine the night before, and only have 3 hrs sleep either. Bet that didn't help.

Sleep and sobriety are overrated. I'd follow up with the train company and see what their policy is about this bikes on buses thing. I guess they assume everyone checks this stuff online before they travel or something.

Nice view!

It was amazing, the whole trip was great but Trollstigen was particularly cool.

It turned out to be the easiest climb- possibly because we tackled it at the steadiest pace of the three we did, but it was easily the most intimidating as we rolled up to the start of it.

Awesome!

looking for trolls on trollstigen-
Win!

My first triathlon. 20k. EPIC.

Put a new saddle on so I feel like I've been bummed.

Isn't bumming meant to be nice? Why would people do if it isn't

Some of my pics from the weekend. Not that they're much different TBH.

Cruising up from Geiranger, perfectly paced, and feeling good.

The steep clay road at the top was yet again, a killer, even the Bee felt it (Eagle road in the background). I blew my right leg out. The area around my hamstring cramped up intensly.

The veiw from our hut in the morning. The Bee ready for the days effort at least (gears actually indexed now, to allow used of the biggest cog)

Eagle road (Ørnevegen). Is a tough climb. It starts pretty steep, then settles at 8%, and offers no rest. Starting cold with tight legs, I really felt this one, and had to dig a bit deep. Cant fault the veiw though.

Trollstigen was incredible. I've been there quite a few times of course. But I cant actually remember being anything but freezing and wet. With next to zero view to, or from the top. Seeing this shear wall of dark grey stone, with a road cut into it, towering over you, was very intimidating. Especially when simply getting out of the car was torture on the legs. Span up to the base quickly to loosen the legs. Then glued myself to TW2s wheel. Dammit, and TW2 basically towed me up. But weirdly after all the weekends excersion. I started to feel stronger as it went on. Cheers guys.

Now London. Take Dammit, and TW2 back, before they kill me please ;)

PS. Chapeau to Mrs Smallfurry for looking after the kids all weekend, and making this possible!

Dammit, Smallfurry and TW2, your trip looks INCREDIBLE. What amazing scenery. I don't think I'd even drive up some of those hills!!

This weekend I went up to Preston and decided to take my bike again. On Friday, Betty and I went out for a ride in the pouring rain. We headed up to Garstang to eat scones (pronounced the proper way), and on the way we tried to take a nice scenic route but didn’t really know where we were going so rejoined the main road about a mile after we’d turned off. We ended up covered in manure, soaking wet and sheltering from some apocalyptic rain. Then we rode back the whole way on the main road, no niceties for us. 33 mile jaunt, good chat, excellent scones.

On Sunday Betty invited me to ride with her club, Ribble Valley CC. I met them in a carpark in north Preston (who would have thought my life would come to this?) and after a few rounds of applause for the awesome achievements of some of the club elders (all called Peter) we set out. Everyone was very friendly and no one seemed to mind me screeching the names of all the animals I saw, like the city dweller I have so shamefully become (seriously though, miniature donkeys and WILD BOAR – I defy you not to be impressed). The roads to the east of Preston have a few rolling hills, with a nice ascent/descend north of Chipping. After 17 miles we stopped at a WI hall for tea and cake and I had possibly the nicest Victoria Sponge I’ve ever had. A muggy day, it started to rain at this point, but I wasn’t bothered as I’d decided that I’d head back to town for an afternoon of city-based frolics. I asked one of the club members for directions, made a loose mental note and set off on my own.

Here began a catalogue of errors:

• I’d been told to head back the way I came and follow the road to Chipping, where I’d see a turning to Preston. I managed to miss all signs for/around Chipping so blundered blindly on.
  
• I came across a sportive and was so engrossed in saying hello to everyone that it seemed quite natural to me that I joined in on the long route. I seem to have some sort of problem when it comes to signposted routes as I will follow them even if I know they’re not right. The first time I found myself on a cycle superhighway I ended up miles in the wrong direction as I just assumed that it would take me where I wanted to go. The same, it seems, is true for sportives that I’m not actually taking part in.
  
• I started chatting to one of the riders on the sportive and when he asked where I was from I – and I don’t know why I did this – said I was from Preston. This meant that when I realised I was lost I couldn’t admit it and had to sprint up a hill and wait until there was enough of a gap before I could hide behind a wall and wait for him to go by and leave me to re-navigate myself.
  
• I realised that I was lost, heading in the wrong direction, and that things had got hilly. I began to wish that I had a map or some sort of other navigational device on me, completely forgetting that I had a garmin right in front of me. I am an idiot.
  
• I saw a sign to Longridge and had a vague recollection of this being the right way, so followed the sign. Inexplicably the sign saying “Longridge 6 miles” was then followed by a 25 minute ride before I finally saw “Longridge 5 miles”, leading me to think that I must have taken another wrong turn, but who knows by this point. In any event, I think I went the hilly way.
  
• Finally I saw a sign to Preston, hooray! I celebrated by stopping to put my ipod in, just as a man walked past with two whippets and I was overcome by the urge to say something (I really like whippets) but couldn’t think of anything to say and just shouted WHIPPETS at him and his startled looking dogs, and had to ride away as quickly as possible, headphones trailing in the wind.
  
  

All in all, it was a 17 mile ride out, with a shortcut that resulted in a 28 mile return trip, which even for my pisspoor navigational skills is quite some achievement. http://app.strava.com/activities/60829520
Beautiful scenery though, when it wasn’t raining horizontally into my face.

Dammit, Smallfurry and TW2, your trip looks INCREDIBLE. What amazing scenery. I don't think I'd even drive up some of those hills!!

I can confirm that sitting in my car, with me behind the wheel, requires far more guts than cycling them.

For the climb nerds. The gradients are above the km's ridden. Note the ~10% final 3km of dalsnibbe, and the 9-10% mid 4km of Eagle road.Otherwise nice and even.

Dalsnibbe.

Eagle road (Ørnevegen).

Trollstigen.

Couplahundred miles of tan-line enhancement today. I'm glad it wasn't as warm as yesterday.

Hippy how long does a double C take you? Must be all awake hours of the day on the bike. As I did 7 yesterday and wasn't near a double C, so must be 10-11 maybe more if you're down country lanes and taking it easier.