Back up in the Lake District for the Fred Whitton Challenge

Another year, another trip to the Lake District, and once again I did the Fred Whitton light (also known as the Lion and Lamb Challenge), which still has some tough climbs. I felt definitely fitter than the last time I did it though.

Once again I made my two-yearly trip up to the Lake District for the Fred Whitton. The last time I was there it was a good day out. I must say that whenever I go to this part of Cumbria, in north-west England I always say to myself the same thing - why don't I come here more often?

Newlands Pass

It's such a stunning part of the world. Nothing beats the sight of the mountains surrounding lots of beautiful lakes. When I'm up there I feel really invigorated in the pure clean air set in peace and tranquillity.

Okay, I mustn't exaggerate. You do get lots of traffic jams in the Lakes given the comparative scarcity of roads, so that's going to give rise to pollution - certainly between Windermere and Ambleside. Also, in a scandal with the water companies, Lake Windermere has been flagged as being severely polluted as a result of extensive sewage flows.

So, it's not all rosy - but nevertheless - I do enjoy going up to the Lakes, and particularly to the lesser frequented areas nearer to Keswick.

When I arrived at Grasmere to sign on for the Fred Whitton the sun was out and lots of folks were out sunbathing or having picnics in the surrounding field at the registration hall. Crikey a heatwave had come to the Lakes - it was 25 degrees Celsius. That's not normal!

Picnic area at Fred Whitton Challenge HQ, Grasmere

Unfortunately, the weather forecast for the following day, when the ride was taking place, wasn't looking great. After a sunny spell, heavy rain was due to hit the area in the mid-afternoon - right when I would be cresting Hardknott and Wrynose Passes. Well, I really didn't want to be caught up in that. 

Those hills are bad enough in the dry. I was already prepared for a walk up Hardknott Pass, considering I have never been able to ride up this climb with the 30% gradient yet. The 25% Wrynose Pass would be doable for me, provided I could get out of the saddle. But in the wet, I would have had to do that while seated, in order to maintain traction of the back wheel and avoid wheelspin. Could I ride up a 25% gradient in a seated position? Probably not. Crucially, would I be able to ride down a 25% gradient in the wet? I don't think so - or at least not safely. I really didn't fancy risking a crash and breaking my collarbone.

Of course I could avoid all these issues by setting off with the speedy bunch of local riders who do a really fast chain gang, cane it up Kirkstone Pass and blast around the 180km (112-mile) route in six hours and be finished by lunchtime - in my dreams!

I could also have ridden around with a nagging thought in my mind, hoping and praying that the weather forecasts had got it all wrong. But to be honest, I just wanted to feel comfortable during my ride. My motto has always been to arrive on the start line feeling confident that I would be able to do what I needed to do, and that I would be able to handle the situation in a stress-free way. If I want stress and worry I can do that on Mondays to Fridays between 9am and 6pm. Weekends are for fun, care-free pursuits.

So I made the decision to ride the Lion and Lamb Challenge like I did last time around. With the spare energy I would go for a pleasant walk around the nearby trails.

As I drove along the main road to Grasmere from my lodgings at Bowness on Windermere I spotted lots of mini pelotons of cyclists starting out their ride. They had keenly started at 6am, though I got going at 7am - which was fine for me, knowing that I would be doing the 118km variant (73-mile). 

Compared to two years ago I was setting off about an hour earlier, which meant that I saw more riders along the way - though many overtook me. Riders were friendly though, and we all greeted each other and wished each other well.

Kirkstone Pass, with The Struggle in the background (Photo: SteveFlemingPhoto.com)

The initial part of the ride was a fast spin along the main road back through Ambleside, towards Windermere. Then after five miles (8km) came the first difficulty of the day, Kirkstone Pass, via Holbeck Lane. This climb is easier than The Struggle, but is harder than the first part of Kirkstone Pass near Windermere.

There were a couple of steep stretches above 10%, so was a little bit of a rude awakening for the legs. Once Holbeck Lane joined the main Kirskstone Pass road I was in a lovely wide valley. Great views, shame about the road surface. Every time I come here I like to think the road might have been resurfaced. But it isn't. So I just have to put up with heavy rutted roads, because I'm just not working hard enough! At least the gradient was manageable. 

Once the steep winding road to my left, The Struggle, came into view I knew I was near the summit of the Kirkstone Pass, the highest point of the ride at 454m, and I would get the chance to rest a little during the descent. Soon enough I arrived at the Kirkstone Inn at the top of the road, and I could enjoy a beautiful descent. On this side of the hill the road surface gave a sharp contrast to what I had previously endured. The descent was lovely and smooth, with sweeping bends. It was still important to pay attention though when handling the bike. 

After a short stint through the Patterdale valley the next climb was Matterdale End, where I was entertained by a couple who were belting out Europop and cheering me on madly as though I were Wout Van Aert. Sorry to disappoint you guys!

A few other folks overtook me on this climb, though they were still going slow enough that they were in view when doing my least favourite part of the ride, along the A66 towards Keswick. It's nice to go along here and not feel totally alone.

I wanted to keep my stoppages to a minimum, but Borrowdale, just below Keswick was a good time to stop and eat. before tackling what would be the toughest ride for me, Honister Pass.

When the Fred Whitton Challenge comes to town everyone in the Lake District knows about it and the locals are always very enthusiastic and supportive of the riders. Many of them cheered, applauded or gave me the thumbs up along the way as I rode along. Funnily enough, even while I was standing at the side of the road close to Derwentwater people still cheered me - for eating Clif Bar? Well, I'll take that!

This day seemed to have a few amateur sports events going on. I saw various riders travelling in the opposite direction doing what appeared to be a charity randonnée ride. Furthermore, a couple I had met the previous day had said they would be doing a type of quadrathlon involving cycling, running, paddle boarding and something else. There's no shortage of sport to do in the Lake District.

After a long stint in the valley in the shadow of such peaks as Skiddaw, the road ramped uphill suddenly at Seatoller. A guy passed me at that time, saying "This is where the work begins". I knew what was coming, after having suffered it in the past. My main strategy was to twiddle in the lowest gear and at the lowest cadence I could get away with just so that I could save a bit of energy to deal with the really steep hairpins.

Hard work riding up the Lakeland climbs, like here at Newlands Pass

A couple of ramps at the start of the climb, which included a steep bend to the left had me panting slightly. I still felt ready to take on this fight. But every 20 metres another short extremely steep section was thrown at me. I recall being in this situation last time and having to wrestle the bike to the ground as the bike tried to pull a wheelie. No such thing happened this time, as I felt very much in control. Meanwhile, my fellow rider who had passed me earlier smoothly riding past out of the saddle had suddenly stopped riding and was resting at the side of the road. He then got off his bike and walked. He was actually a pretty strong rider, but I think his bike was a bit over-geared to cope with the gradient. I passed him on the climb and he later caught up with me once the road finally levelled off at the Slate Museum. Do you know when the feed station is? He asked me. By his accent I could tell that he was French.

The poor lad must have underestimated the English roads thinking that nothing would be harder than Col de Galibier or Alpe d'Huez. He was properly being proved wrong!

I told him it would probably be after the descent in around three miles (5km), and also cautioned him of the descent, which would be very steep and would need a lot of care and attention. I bid him good bye, thinking I wouldn't see him again, as he sped off. In fact I caught up with him again on the descent as he came to an abrupt stop having been freaked out by the steepness of the descent. 

It's fair to say the descent from Honister Pass is not to be underestimated. It is probably the most technical descent of the whole ride, and was evidenced by the numerous mountain rescue staff and first aiders ready to help any rider who came into misfortune. I had to use my mountain biking skills to the max by keeping my body weight so far to the rear of the bike that my bottom was almost resting on the back wheel! That was the safest way I knew.

Thankfully I got down the hill okay, and enjoyed a lovely twisty ride along a more reasonable gradient, towards Buttermere and into the feed station.

By this time I was close to the cut-off of being past Braithwaite village by 11.30am. To be honest those of us at the feed station had already decided we wouldn't be doing the full Fred, so I was able to enjoy my stop and chat to the staff and volunteers there. I was very pleased to chat to Lynn Whitton, Fred's widow. She was very happy with the way things had run, particularly on this 25th Anniversary of the event.

One tip she did tell me was that although the race is oversubscribed there is a 10% drop-out rate and so you can actually get to ride the Fred Whitton if you contact the organiser a couple of weeks before the event.

After stuffing myself with some tasty Ritz biscuits I was back on the road and taking on my favourite of the Lakeland climbs on that ride, Newlands Pass.

Reaching the summit of Newlands Pass (Photo:SteveFlemingPhoto.com)

The 2km climb up Newlands Pass is not easy, but it is more of a steady climb with a few short 10 or 15% ramps at intervals followed by sections to relax the legs. Meanwhile, as the road twists around Buttermere Moss on my right, on the left are the dramatic fells at Whiteless Pike and Bleak Rigg. You never quite know when you are at the top of the road as the road twists and turns quite a lot, and reveals a little bit more of road to climb up. Then the very last bit of the uphill includes a steep gradient at more than 15%. Then you feel pleased with yourself for having done something that was hard enough to be a proper challenge, but not so hard it's not doable. Having said all that, I could see a couple of riders ahead of me in the distance who did have to walk up Newlands Pass. So maybe it wasn't that doable! 

Descending into Braithwaite was not straightforward as the road is not a steady downhill, but a mixture of ups, downs, twists and very sharp turns. Once at Braithwaite a marshal let me know that I wouldn't be able to do the full distance - confirmation that I would definitely be doing the Lion and Lamb! "No worries," I smiled. "I hadn't planned on doing the long course." 

The road from Keswick back to Grasmere

My route back to Grasmere via Keswick was once again along the main A591 trunk road. When I cycled along this road two years ago it had been a real struggle to get up the hill out of Keswick, and the main road had seemed interminable.

On this occasion, however, I was able to tackle the climb with gusto and enjoy the ride and the views of Helm Crag and Thirlmere. I passed a few riders along the way, and there were others who passed me looking pretty fit. It seemed that the Lion and Lamb was not necessarily a route being done just by slow riders. This section of the ride was quicker than I had anticipated. In fact when I saw Grasmere lake come into view I hardly believed my eyes. It was a surprised to already be in the home strait.

Crossing the finish line with the exhausted fast guys who had done the full distance, I looked suspiciously fresh, and felt compelled to admit to the marshals that I had only done 73 miles. Just to be clear!

As ever, there was a fun ambiance at the HQ, with a descent hot meal, deck chairs and picnic area on the grass, as well as a band playing. I got chatting to a woman called Katherine from the Isle of Wight. Rather like Sonia who I'd met two years ago when having my post-race meal, she was also disappointed not to have been able to do the full Fred. Where Sonia had missed the cut-off because of mechanical issues with her bike, Katherine had been caught up in traffic entering the event HQ. Apparently the queue to get into the car park early in the morning had been so long that Katherine was not able to start her ride at 6am as planned, and didn't get going until around 7am, which put her under pressure to get through the full ride in a timely way. In any case, we both enjoyed the event and hope to be back again.

Personally, I would like to be back again because I do enjoy the Fred Whitton weekend, and being in the Lake District. Also, I must say the number of women participants is very low - less than 10% - and it would be good to see more women getting involved. So I would be more than happy to get in my participation in the ride on behalf of the fairer sex!

All smiles at the finish line in Grasmere

After the cyclosportive I drove over to Pelter Bridge car park, from where I went on a walk around Grasmere and Rydal Water. I must say that I felt a bit silly in the end because the weather turned out to be very pleasant, and the rain didn't arrive until around 8pm. So in fact, I could have done the full Fred. Given how I got round the ride, and how I felt at the finish line compared with my previous experience, I definitely felt fitter. So I really must do the full course next time around.  

I hope to see you on Hardknott Pass in the not-distant future. 

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Tackling Fred Whitton light (aka Lion and Lamb Challenge)

I have received an email reminding me that entries for the 2023 Fred Whitton Challenge through the Lake District will open on 1st December 2022. So in the next few weeks I must decide if  I want to put myself through the 175km cyclosportive over the lakeland hills next May. It's a beautiful part of the world, where I had the pleasure of doing two cycling trips this year, one of them to do the sportive.

Route map for Fred Whitton Challenge

In fact, I ended up not doing the full Monty and opted for the more clement, but nevertheless challenging Lion and Lamb route (yellow line on the route map). Here's what I remember of it. 

When the time came for me to do the event the event I was full of doubt and not really feeling confident that I could go the distance. I had done a fair bit of mileage - around 600km per month, but I hadn't done any practice events or pushed myself in any way. Time had not been on my side.

I had come very close to pulling out of the event. However, when I saw on the cyclosportive race pack that there was a shorter option I immediately decided I would go. The shorter route is known as the Lion and Lamb. Basically you ride the route of Fred Whitton, taking in Kirkstone Pass, Honister Pass and Newlands. Then when you reach the village of Braithwaite, instead of turning left to go up Whinlatter Pass you turn right and head back to Keswick. Then from there you take the direct A591 road back to Grasmere. 

The route is so called because the rocks along the side of the road, known as Helm Crag resemble a Lion and Lamb, though I must say I fail to see the resemblance! 

When I arrived in Grasmere on the eve of the ride to pick up my race pack, it was only then that I became aware of the magnitude of the event. The field around the race HQ had been turned into a massive car park as folks arrived from all over the UK to take part. There were stands selling bike equipment, clothing and nutrition, as well as a MacMillan Cancer stand, to which funds from the event would go. [Note, Fred Whitton was a member of the Lakes Road Club, who died in 1998 aged 50.]

Overall, there was a buzzing atmosphere and it was all-go in Grasmere. I managed to get in a little ride around the roads near where I was staying in Bowness-on-Windermere, though not on the actual roads of the route. But the fact that I had ridden on the main climbs a month earlier gave me the confidence to take on the challenge, even if I wasn't going to be quick.

Come the following morning, I was feeling fairly languid about the ride. Although I woke up very early - around 5.30am - I didn't want to rush myself. The importance for me, was about going out and enjoying a ride around the Lake District without getting stressed about making the cut-off. If I reached Bu by the cut-off at midday, then I would continue on to the long course. But knowing that I had the Lion and Lamb ride to fall back on (which was doable), I felt quite relaxed about things.

Summit of Kirkstone Pass

On the drive from my lodgings to the event HQ lots of riders passed in the opposite direction, ready to square up to the first difficulty of the day - Kirkstone Pass. All the riders looked lean and mean, riding in various small groups. This was quite the different from the figure I would be cutting. Yes, I was feeling fit, but far from being the finely tuned racer. I had no plan to ride in any group, and I would be carrying my trusty rucksack - hardly kitted out for a race-pace ride. As a result of my leisurely attitude it was almost 7.45am when I took the start line, and only minutes before the deadline for starting the ride. [Riders are allowed to start the Fred Whitton Sportive at any time of their choice between 6am and 8am.]

It was a largely solitary ride as I wound my way along the A591 back towards Windermere. Apart from a couple of groups of riders I hardly saw anyone else. Well, at least I could ride at a pace that was comfortable for me, and I wouldn't feel under pressure to force my pace.

On this early crisp and sunny Sunday morning I wasn't in a mood to remove my jacket and kept on all my layers. Once in the Windermere area I hit Kirkstone Pass via Holbeck. My experience of this climb had been via The Struggle - a 25% beast from the centre of Ambleside. As Holbeck was not such an infamous climb as the ramp from Ambleside, I hadn't expected it to be too difficult. However, I was wrong. Perhaps it was the time of morning, and maybe not being fully warmed up, it was deceptively testing. The bumpy rutted road surface didn't help matters either, as I had to expend extra energy to roll my bike up this heavy narrow road, closed in by woodland and farmhouses. At that moment I began to wonder not just if I could make the midday cut-off at Buttermere, but if I would finish the short ride before they closed the event at 6.30pm!

Just when I was wondering why the hell I'd let myself into this undertaking, my view opened up and I got sight of the familiar countryside that I had seen a few weeks earlier during my Easter weekend in the Lakes. Then the Kirkstone Inn came into view and that was reassuring too.

At the summit, knowing that a long descent lay ahead, I stopped to put on my jacket and grab a quick snack. What was also reassuring was the sight of other riders at the summit. As I moved off, they stayed where they were to sort out a mechanical, while another guy appeared to be just having a morning coffee. So at least I knew I wouldn't be last.

Whizzing down Kirkstone was a real joy, though it wasn't the time to become too complacent as the descent still required skill on a few technical bends. 

A left-hand turn took me into Matterdale where the scenery was stunning. That would be a recurring theme throughout my day. It was desolate but in a peverse way, still an inviting place. Given that I was in a cyclosportive this was not the time to stop for picnics or take photographs, though.

On reaching the junction with the A66, I met some volunteers who checked I was okay and warned me to be careful on the road. This is one section of the Fred Whitton Challenge route, that I am not a fan of, as it runs along a fast trunk road. Thankfully, a side section of the road was coned off, so I was sheltered from the worst of the traffic. Furthermore, it was still only mid-morning and on a Sunday the traffic wasn't heavy. Seeing the sign for Keswick was a welcome indication that I would be back on quiet roads for the rest of the ride. In this gateway town to Borrowdale, I knew exactly how to reach the road to Honister Pass without the help of the signboards or marshals, having reccied it just three weeks earlier. 

Given the time, and the fact that one of the toughest climbs would be appearing before long, I took the opportunity to stock up on fuel and take a toilet break near Derwentwater. By this time, I was all alone, having been overtaken by the other riders who'd had the mechanical at Kirkstone Pass. Maybe I should have felt concerned that there was no one else around, but in fact I felt free - free to just ride around at a pace I was comfortable with, and free to stop when I felt like it. I had food, drink, extra clothing if needed. Granted, I didn't have tent or bivouac, but if I did end up staying out so late I had money to stay in some lodgings!

Although I wasn't riding in any group, the number on my handlebars showed that I was still part of this event which is well known among all the locals. Many people who saw me ride by, applauded and cheered me on, even though I hardly looked like I was in any race. That was jolly nice of them.

Just after the village of Seatoller came one of the hardest climbs of the day - Honister Pass. It was important to remind myself that on my previous attempt I had managed to get up this 25% ramp without walking, even if I had almost pulled a wheelie in the process. If I kept that in mind, and stayed calm, I would be okay. The next half-mile became all about straining every sinew to keep the momentum moving forward especially on the hairpins, and hope that no vehicle would approach in the opposite direction along this narrow road.  

Once past the worst section of the gradient, I felt enormously relieved, though I was panting too much to have any real appreciation of this mini success. A car did emerge in the opposite direction, on the merciful 10% section. The driver kindly stopped to let me pass by as she gave me a big thumbs up while I trudged passed barely conscious.

Soon the road took me past a slate mine and then the Honister car park and tea room which marked the end of my climb and the start of the big drop down to Buttermere. By this time I'd got my breath back and was ready to celebrate my achievement, but this was no time to be complacent. I still had some way to go. 

However, it was at this point that I realised I would miss the cut off to do the full Fred Whitton Challenge, so my ride would now just be a mere 73 miles instead of 112. Furthermore, I would be deprived of the chance to ride up Hardknott and Wrynose Passes. Should I have felt disappointed? Maybe, but I wasn't! Having experienced these two beasts a few weeks earlier, and spent most of the time on foot rather than on my bike I knew that I wouldn't stand a chance of riding it during the cyclosportive, particularly as those climbs don't appear until around 95 miles into the ride! So in effect, the hardest climb of my ride was behind me, and everything from here on in would be straight forward....sort of.

The road to hell - aka Hardknott Pass - which I skipped in FW Challenge (thankfully)

Rolling down the Honister Pass is not the easiest of descents. Just as 25% uphill is tough, the same percentage downhill is no breeze. Control and good bike handling are required. I remember a woman crashing on this descent a few years ago and fracturing her skull. Er, I'd rather that didn't happen to me. So for those first couple of kilometres there was a lot of focus, as I made use of my descending skills learned (thankfully) from a few years of cyclocross. 

Nevertheless it has to be said that the area was breathtaking in more ways than one. The descent had me panting as the road snaked and sank between the stunning Buttermere and Borrowdale valleys. 

Eventually the gradient levelled off and my ride became more manageable, and this allowed me to appreciate the landscape, which was dotted with little streams, as well as sheep that looked on at me curiously. They probably wondered what this odd person was doing on their patch with a number on her bike and no peloton!

As expected, I missed the cut-off to continue on the main route, which was evidenced by the sight of organisers closing feed-station and the first-aid ambulance driving away. Good job I had my own supplies, as I tucked into another energy bar.

A couple of miles earlier a guy on a road bike had passed me and said hello. I assumed he was a participant in the cyclosportive, given the speed he passed me, and he must have had a mechanical that was now resolved. 

However, about 200m down the road I realised he was slowing down as I began to catch up with him. These moments are always a bit tricky for me. I think to myself, "If you ride so much quicker than I do, why overtake and then slow down? Then I'm going to catch you and you'll chase me down again...What's the point in that?" I'm never keen on this silly cat and mouse game. 

Initially, I began to slow myself down, in a hope that he would pick up pace again. It didn't work though, because it would be ridiculous to ride even slower than my already snail pace. Eventually I caught up with him, as he was stood admiring the beautiful Buttermere Lake.

Soon he caught me again, but rather than pass, he rode alongside me and struck up a conversation. "It's beautiful around here isn't it?" He said. It turned out that he had come across to the area from Newcastle with a friend who was taking part in the cyclosportive. He had failed to get a place during the lottery draw for the event, but came to the Lake District anyway to provide support for his team-mate. Knowing the route, he was happy enough to ride around the areas on the day and soak in the atmosphere. I'm not sure if my pootling along the course on my own provided much atmosphere!

We rode further on together, and began the climb up Newlands Pass. That was where I hoped he would leave me to my own devices, as the road became decidedly steep. Of all the climbs of the Fred Whitton, Newlands is the one I know the least. Despite having previously done the Fred on a couple of occasions I still couldn't remember much about this pass across that crosses the valley to reach Keswick. My assumption is that if it didn't stand out in my memory of the event it can't have been that tough. However, I was wrong. When inspecting it on an Ordnance Survey map this yellow road shows double arrows, denoting it being >20%. I wasn't looking forward to that. My new found pal eventually bid me good bye as he said he was going to explore other roads. Before leaving he described the rest of the route beyond Newlands Pass and gave me tips. Nice of him, but I did already know the route. I guess, judging by the way I waddled along he thought I was a newbie. And I must say, I felt too embarrassed to say I was a little bit more experienced than that!

Climbing up Newlands Pass didn't fail to disappoint, when it came to gradients. The narrow road wound around, up and up past the Moss Force waterfalls. At one point I really felt like I was in some kind of middle Earth as the place was desolate and looked a little grey. Funnily enough, I still think it looked beautiful. 

Only a couple of cars passed by, and like other motorists - as had been the trend on this day - they tooted their horns and either gave a thumbs up or shouted "well done" at my efforts. I certainly appreciated the encouragement as this road had a very sharp hairpin with a ramp that must have been in excess of 20% - not as steep as Honister, but tough enough. It caught me quite by surprise. With my remaining energy I squeezed every muscle to propel myself forwards. Thankfully, the road levelled off and then very shortly afterwards my bike wheels began to turn faster and faster as the road gently descended, and then I was rolling at full velocity, enjoying a lovely downhill towards Braithwaite. 

Apparently this quaint village is where your morale is made or broken a marshal determines whether you have a long or a short day on the roads of the Fred Whitton Cyclosportive. A left-hand turn takes you up Whinlatter Pass, out towards Cockermouth and then down to Eskdale Green where the dreaded Hardknott-Wrynose duo await. Alternatively, you can turn right towards Keswick and then take main road straight back to Grasmere. Depending on your persuasion your moral could be up because you're doing the long challenge, but also because you are doing the short challenge and can look forward to a relaxing afternoon. 

This right-hand turn could be a source of despair and disappointment at the hands of the marshal who has the interesting job of telling you you've missed the cut-off. Otherwise, it could be a moment of relief that it's official - you are on your way to an early finish that, with any luck gives you the time to enjoy a leisurely Sunday lunch and an afternoon walk. This was definitely my attitude. In fact, I was so late that the marshal doing this job had already packed up and gone! For a fellow rider Sonia from Bolsover, who I met on the day, she definitely had a sense of  the former. The right hand turn left her and her friend very disappointed and frustrated. Unfortunately for her, she was the woman I had passed at the summit of Kirktone Pass earlier and had had to deal with a problem with her gears. She and her friend had ridden like the clappers to make it to Braithwaite, only to arrive 15 minutes too late.

Fortunately for me though, it meant that doing the short course meant that I was able to have a very pleasant lunch with her back at the HQ.

Very happy to reached the finish line - even if I "only" did 73 miles

So after the right-hand turn at Braithwaite and a very pleasant descent in the shadow of Skiddaw mountain, I was back into Keswick, which had begun to feel like a second home, given that it was the second time I was passing through there on this day, and I had also been spent time in the village just a couple of weeks earlier. The roads and buildings were very familiar and I knew exactly which way I needed to go to reach Grasmere - handy given that there were no more signs or marshals. Sadly, I had forgotten about the steep exit to reach the homeward road, and I must admit that at this point I was beginning to feel the effects of the rugged Lakeland roads. It was a tour de force to winch myself over the 12% ramp, and even after that the main A591 was an unrelenting sequence of ups and downs, not to mention a slight head wind.

This section of the Fred Whitton Challenge is not the official course, and it's not publicised on the website. It was only when I received the pre-race pack that I became aware of its existence, and as such there were hardly any other participants on this road. In any case, it didn't make much difference to me as that had been the pattern throughout my ride even on the official route!

I was confident that the final 13 miles back to the HQ would be doable and my energy levels were high enough to get me home. I was far from hitting the wall, but I must admit I was getting a little bit bored, and the constant ups, downs and twists in the road were demoralising. Some sections had slight cross winds, and it has to be said that the there were some dual carriageway sections with fast-moving traffic so it wasn't a totally relaxing ride.

And where was the famous Lion and Lamb to keep me going? Apparently, you are meant to see these shapes in the nearby hills but I couldn't see anything of that description. I can only conclude it must have been something dreamed up by someone while they were on some fun pills. Of course, I am happy to stand corrected if someone sends me the photos.

About half-way along the road a guy passed me, going at a fast pace. That was reassuring to see that it's not just the slow coaches like myself who do this route. Soon after, a woman caught up with me. "It's not very easy here is it?" She said. I agreed. At first, I thought of hanging onto her wheel so that we could do a triumphant return to the HQ together - a sisters in solidarity moment. But she was actually stronger than I was, and as the wind subsided she gained a second wind herself and dropped me. No bother. I was just happy to have seen a couple of souls along the road, albeit briefly. That was enough to reassure me that I wasn't the only cop-out cyclosportive rider in the village.

Finally, the signboard for Grasmere came into view and the crowds along the roadside thickened as locals, friends and family cheered on every rider who crossed the finish line. I had a big smile on my face and a sense of achievement that I had got through the 73 Lakeland miles without wrecking myself - denoting that I probably had been strong enough to do the full thing had I set off early.

One guy who crossed the finish line at the same time as myself did say that I looked suspiciously fresh. So I felt obliged to make my admission, to which he replied - as long as you were in pain on Honister then you did it well. Well, it was painful, so I felt I must have done a good job.

Enjoying a post-ride walk around Grasmere and Rydal Water

Regardless of the fact that I had done the short Fred Whitton ride, it had been a satisfying day out,  I had done an honest day's work in the saddle, and I think I deserved my post-ride pie and chips. Then the day was rounded off with a beautiful walk along the trails surrounding Grasmere, Rydal Water, and Rydal Caves. I know I must go back to the Lake District and do the full Fred Whitton route at some point; though not for now. Hardknott and Wrynose may have to wait a little bit longer.

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The Struggle is real in the Lake District 

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Fred Whitton - a real challenge

I made it up to Coniston, via Kendal, with Him Indoors. The weekend weather had not looked too good. In fact we got caught in a heavy shower on the ride from Kendal to Bowness-on-Windermere. By the time we were boarding the ferry the rain had stopped, and when we arrived in Coniston the sun was shining. It continued to shine for the rest of the day. I just prayed that it would stay dry during the cyclosportive.

I'd felt really tense about my cycling and what shape I was in, so made up my mind that I would just aim to get round the course comfortably, and safely. As long as I set off early I would be able to complete the course at a leisurely pace, and could also hopefully avoid the rain that was forecast for later in the day.

Sunday morning - race day - Him Indoors left the b&b ahead of me so that he could catch a group of his club mates to ride with. Great - so I would be on my own to ride around without feeling any pressure to keep up with the pace of any group.

In all the cycling I do, I never cease to be amazed at what a small world we live in. While at the start line a man asked me if I had done a training camp in Spain - to which I replied yes. "I remember you," he said as his face lit up and he smiled. "You were on a Graham Baxters camp at Albir Garden." He was exactly right. "Gosh," I replied in amazement. "How are you ?" It was Dudley Heaton, an ex-pro road racer, who had been a cycle coach during the Baxters spring training camp back in 2000. He'd aged a little since then, but he still had the same vivacity in the way he spoke, and the Yorkshire accent. He was in Coniston helping out with the event. It was nice to see him. Ironically, when he'd seen me ride back in those days I was new to the cycling and wasn't very fast. Given the form I was in today, I wasn't going to be riding much faster !

Anyway, once I got going I felt quite happy, admiring the beautiful scenery - and the mountains. Our first climb of the day was Hawkshead Hill - just half a mile after setting off ! It was not the steepest climb by any means, but it was hard doing it on cold muscles. After that came rolling terrain until we reached another climb just after Ambleside, which was the start of Kirkstone Pass. Going down the other side gave one of the most beautiful views along the way - the sky looked wild, but the sun was poking through above the lake and between the mountains.




There then followed a fast section along the A66 towards Keswick. I managed to get talking to a local lady cyclist along the way. She gave me a brief run-down of the course profile and how to get through it. Very useful stuff. After Keswick we were into Borrowdale, another very scenic area. That took us then to a trio of energy sapping climbs. The brutal Honister Pass, Newlands Pass, and then Whinlatter Pass. There was a feed station between Honister and Newlands, and Whinlatter was not very steep. However, these climbs were long and had a few 25% ramps to negotiate. This didn't leave much time for recovery.

The course continued to follow the same pattern - beautiful scenery, lakes, tough climbs over Cold Fell and Swarth Fell. Then down into Eskdale, only to see the full horror of Hardknott Pass in the distance. The sight of cars and cyclists alike struggling up the road was a truly ominous sign.

I had already made up my mind that I would not be able to ride up it, so was resigned to walking up the first 33% section. Everyone else around me did the same. One guy did attempt to ride up the pass. He looked good as we shouted words of encouragement to him. Then suddenly we heard a bang. The poor guy had run out of strength and fallen over. Naturally he gave up the struggle, and we all walked up as a group. Descending the pass was no easier. My arms were aching from having squeezed the handlebars so tightly ! Imagine riding down a wall !

Wrynose was "easier", being just 25%. I fancied my chances of getting up this in the saddle. This time a few guys cheered me on while they walked up. But alas, I felt a sudden sharp pain down both of my quads, as they went into spasm. I had to dismount rapidly, and stop to stretch my legs. I didn't bother to ride again until the start of the descent.

Once I'd surmounted those two beasts I knew I was home and dry. I flew down the hill back to Langdale, then did the right turn to get me back to Coniston. I was just so pleased that I'd managed the ride in such decent weather, and felt happy that I'd got round ok. It was good to see Him Indoors at the finish line waiting for me.

My time of 10hrs 22 was nothing to boast about at all, but given that I felt fresh at the finish line, I know I could have ridden faster. Now that I know the course I will know how to manage my energy to get a faster time.

Back at HQ we were well fed care of Wilf's cafe, and we celebrated with some local beer. And even at that early stage I was able to say "I'll be back next year."

Fred Whitton is a challenge - there's no doubt about it. You need to be fit to get round all the climbs. Having said that, you don't need to be fast to get through it within the cut-off time. I am proof of that !