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. 

Related posts

Operation Etape du Tour - Understanding the challenge 

The Struggle is real - especially in the Lake District

Tackling Fred Whitton light (aka The Lion and Lamb Challenge)

Cycling my own mini Surrey Hills climb classic

When in Geneva get on a bicycle

Another cycling mission for 2024 - Fred Whitton Challenge

I have been successful in the ballot to take part in the 2024 Fred Whitton Challenge. My mission is to cycle 174km (112 miles) around the Lake District, taking in the mighty Honister, Hardknott and Wrynose Passes. It's gonna be a tough day out, but I say bring it on - sort of!

In my opinion this is the mother of all cyclosportives. There may be other challenge rides in the UK that are longer or hillier than the Fred Whitton Challenge, but what really bites about this event is that moment when you pass through Eskdale Green, with its quaint country pub, after 98miles of cycling and you look up high into the distance to see a long line of riders snaking skywards. That's the Hardknott Pass, with its infamous 30% gradients along the one-mile stretch - and that's where you're headed. You have a feeling of dread and your legs go even weaker than they were already feeling from riding over Kirkstone, Honister, Whinlatter, and Newlands Passes. How on earth will I get over that and the 25% gradient of Wrynose Pass straight afterwards?

Few sportives instil that feeling of dread. I have ridden the Fred Whitton Challenge in the past and gotten around it within the time cut (although once I didn't). I therefore know that I have it in me to complete the ride, and I also remember the feeling of elation as I crossed the finish line. So I really want to have that moment again. 

It will be less easy now than when I last did the full monty almost 15 years ago. By the time D-Day comes round I will be 55 years old. Age definitely has caught up with me. While I am still capable of doing lots of sport, I find that I need more recovery time, and am more prone to soft tissue injuries than when I was younger. So as well as the main job of training, there is the added dimension of monitoring energy levels and preventing injury.

Getting a place in one of the UK's toughest one-day cyclosportives is not easy. The ballot opens in early December and roughly 10 days later the draw is done to see who are the lucky (or some might say unlucky) 2,000 riders to suffer the steepest hills of the Lake District.

Hardknott Pass 

I had been in two minds about throwing my name into the hat. Having gotten a place in the Fred Whitton last year, I remember how tough it was to train for the event, how many miles I needed to get in as well as how much cycling uphill. When the big day came I didn't feel entirely ready, and in the end opted to ride the shorter version - the Lion and Lamb ride. I must say I felt quite relieved to have not had to do the ride feeling anxious about riding the most challenging climbs. I enjoyed being able to have my post-ride pasta in a room full of other riders and chat to people. Had I done the full distance it would have just been a survival ride to beat the cut-off and I am sure I would have been one of the last finishers, probably munching my post-race meal in an almost empty buffet tent as the organisers packed everything away. That's not what I wanted. Having said that, I also feel a sense of FOMO (fear of missing out) at the fact that I only did 73 miles.

So I entered the ballot in the hope of having the chance to sort out this unfinished business. Many people enter this ballot multiple times without ever having their name drawn out of the hat. So I feel lucky to have gotten a place in the Fred Whitton Challenge. But now, I have to go out train properly, and ride the thing.

Training has already started, given that I also have the Etape du Tour to also prepare for. My 2024 calendar is already looking rather busy.

The Struggle is real - especially in the Lake District!

It has been announced that next year's National Hill Climb Championship will take place on The Struggle in the Lake District. Even the name of this climb brings fear, unlike this year's event which took place on The Old Shoe, in mid-Wales. That name sounds like that there's something particular about the hill, but not necessarily anything to be afraid of. Mind you, in my case as a non-climber, once there I would probably freak out anyway!

I didn't get to ride that particular climb, and I didn't feel I could prepare myself for those championships due to time constraints. The year before that the National Hill Climb Championships were contested on the leg-busting Winnats Pass, in the Peak District. That is a climb I know well, but I still didn't do as my previous attempts had been pitiful and I knew I'd be an embarrassment on the day. Watching the riders battle up it on the big day in biblical conditions confirmed that I had made the right decision to not sign up for it. I would most certainly have got wheelspin and keeled over within 10 metres of the start line!

Funnily enough, despite the scary name of the climb for next year's National Hill Climb Championship I am tempted to give it go. I cycled up The Struggle earlier this year, and although I wasn't particularly quick, I got through it without feeling the need to stop or put my foot to the ground. That's already a result on those demanding roads in the Lake District.

Before I sign my legs away and launch myself into the preparation I must take the time to reflect on what it was like riding up this challenging alternative route to the more gradual and gentler Kirkstone Pass. Here is my recollection from earlier this year.

In the centre of Ambleside I took North Road, next to the Post Office. It's a small turning on the left that can easily be missed as you are swept along in the tourist traffic going around the one-way system en route from Grasmere and Keswick. 

Immediately, I was on a short narrow uphill road. Gosh, is this it already? I thought. We were officially still in the town of Ambleside so surely it can't have been the climb. Surely The Struggle goes through countryside, right? At this point I was actually on Kirkstone Road away from the hustle and bustle of the high street, but still very much in the town.

As the road reached a T-junction it became clear that the infamous climb was still a little way off even if the general trend locally was for all roads to be going upwards. The roads aren't always really steep. You get lots of false flats going uphill. In any case, it was important to have low gears on your bike whenever you ride in these parts.

From the T-junction I turned right, going behind the stone buildings that housed various shops, cafés and hotels. The road climbed gently and the area became more residential as the village centre had been properly left behind. 

Wansfell viewed from The Struggle with Kirkstone Pass in the distance

I met with a few cars coming down the hill, and they gave way to me on the slightly narrow road. They seemed to give that knowing smile, that said, "I know what you're here for....and boy are you in for a treat"!

The mountain passes of the Lake District are very well known. The local pass, Kirkstone Pass is known for its spectacular vistas across the open valley as you go up to the summit, site of the pub by the same name.

Among club cyclists, real bragging rights are earned by taking this back route to the Kirkstone Inn - The Struggle. So any self-respecting cyclist on a visit to the Lake District has got to try, if only once, the Hardknott-Wrynose duo, maybe Honister Pass too, and definitely The Struggle given its proximity to Ambleside, the most popular zone of the Lake District national park. 

Thus, local residents are accustomed to seeing streams of fit-looking cyclists on lean mean machines on their quest to conquer The Struggle. These Lycra louts form part of the wallpaper in this locality.

Eventually I found the start of the climb, indicated by a signboard with its name and a clear warning.

I felt slightly nervous at this point, and felt this was the time to stop, make sure everything on my bike was properly adjusted, including being in a more than suitably low gear, making sure my front water bottle was replenished, and I stripped off any excess clothing.

I also calmed my nerves, telling myself, "It will only be a mile or so of uphill riding, I do have the legs - but if I don't, it will be less than a mile of walking!"

So I started the climb, with a certain amount of trepidation. The opening metres of the ramp increased in steepness abruptly as I cycled passed some cottages. Given that the windows were close to the road and gave occupants a clear view of riders on the hill, I made an effort to try and look elegant - which meant going along at a slow but steady pace. 

False summit on The Struggle

As the road curved around to the left it ramped up again, probably to around 20%. I could feel the real work was beginning now. Furthermore, on this blind corner I needed to have a bit of physiological reserve in case I met a van when rounding the corner. So I dropped my pace, while still keeping enough cadence to not keel over. This became a real grind as I had to just focus and tell myself - "this will pass". Not knowing what would be around the corner, I mentally prepared myself for another ramp. And sure enough, there was - this time going to the right. By this time there were no houses, so I no longer needed to worry about spectators! As the road snaked left and right, the number of trees as well as the houses thinned out and the valley came into view. 

It has to be said, the landscape was spectacular. It was amazing to see a bowl to my right with lots of valleys and Wainwrights around Wansfell, and then the main road, the official Kirkstone Pass just behind it. Eventually I reached what I believed to be the summit and quietly celebrated the fact that I had conquered this beast.

Finally arrived at the Kirkstone Inn

In the area were a few people who had parked up to contemplate the viewpoint, as well as walkers. I got chatting to some local people who were impressed that I had managed to get up the hill. Reassuringly one of the woman, who herself is a cyclist told me that if I could get up The Struggle I would be fine to get around the Fred Whitton route. "Nothing on the Fred Whitton course is harder than The Struggle", she affirmed. I'm not sure if I should have believed her, but it sounded good.   

Onwards, I pressed, looking forward to the descent that immediately followed. the road twisted and turned a little as it wound around more hills and over little streams. This place is well worth a visit even without a bike. You just need to be comfortable driving up the steep narrow lanes and be able to keep calm if you need to give way to an oncoming vehicle, including an adventurous campervan!

Well, there I was thinking that the steep hills were behind me as the Kirkstone Inn came into view. In fact, they weren't. About one kilometre before the end of the road, my legs had a rude awakening as the road ramped up again. It was a real strain to get my legs back into gear to push my body over the last mound, and the final bend. 

Reaching the main road, the end of the climb provided a very painful sting in the tail to the point that it almost reduced me to throwing in the towel and walking. The gradient of this section must have been more than 20%. 

In a way I'm glad I did continue to pedal because at that point I heard the sound of cars driving by on the main road, denoting that I was practically at the junction and the Kirkstone Inn, the definitive finish line. Ah, my challenge was finally over and I had managed to ride the whole thing without walking. What a relief to have completed it. And what better way to end the climb than with a pub right at the finish line.

So that is The Struggle in a nutshell. I know I can ride it, meaning that I could prepare for the National Hill Climb Championships. All I need to do is to just work on going a bit quicker - simples. Err, now that may well be a struggle!

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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.

Related posts

Tackling the Lake District climbs

The Struggle is real in the Lake District 

Crystal Palace hills

Tackling the Lake District climbs

It had been a long time since I had done the Fred Whitton Challenge - more than 10 years. Back in those days it was a case of entering the event as soon as entries open, and getting your place. Nowadays, with the popularity of the race, that is no longer the case and entries are granted on a ballot basis. I thought I would have a punt and sent in my entry in January, half thinking that I would receive the consolatory, "sorry you haven't been successful email" as I usually get with other ballot events like the London Marathon and the Great North Run.

But to my surprise, I was notified that I had received a place - well, how about that! As it was early February I knew I had time to prepare - after all, I was preparing for the Etape du Tour anyway and I had resolved to get in more cycling events this year. For the Fred, I would just need to make sure that my rides included excruciatingly steep climbs in order to be able to tackle all those infamous passes - Kirkstone, Honister, Newlands, Whinlatter and the terrible duo of Hardknott followed by Wrynose. 

So I fed myself a regular diet of hills around Crystal Palace, and at weekends trips to the Kent Hills - Ricketts Hill, Hosey Hill, Toys Hill/Puddledock, the mighty Yorks Hill, and the last sting in the tail on Hogtrough Hill. Surrey Hills also provided good testers on Cold Harbour, Ranmore, Leith Hill, Whitedown, and of course the old favourite at Box Hill.

Along the way, I also did a trip to the Peak District where I cycled around the hills near Matlock, then went up to the Lake District. 

The Lake District definitely felt like a step from what I'd been used to. There's that moment when you go up the first climb, which over there would just be a little warm-up for a local rider, and wouldn't even make any impact on them. For me, it was a significant effort!

That climb for me, was Lickbarrow Road, near my lodgings at Bowness-on-Windermere. Crikey, would I survive the day??! 

I just tried to keep believing that I would be okay, and anyway at the limit I could just turn round and go home along a valley road to Bowness. Giving myself that get-out clause made me feel more relaxed and willing to carry on with my ride.

Eventually I got around some interesting places - Strawberry Bank, Fell Foot Brow, Windermere, a ferry across the lake, Sawrey and the biggest climb of the day, The Struggle to the Kirkstone Pub. That was a tough old challenge, but being able to ride the whole thing gave me a confidence boost.

My following day of riding involved the dreaded Hardknott and Wrynose Passes, but not without going over Hawkshead Hill, down to Coniston and then over the Old Rake, Broughton Mills and Birker Fell. Some of the climbs were in areas that don't get much publicity among the cycling community. Sure everyone knows about Hardknott, Wrynose, Kirkstone, etc. But the climbs that go out towards the villages of Ulpha, Torver and Broughton-in-Furness are less talked about. 

Lake Windermere

The Old Rake was a real quad buster. I actually hit it in too high a gear, and though I managed to just about get up it, it was a screamer of a climb and very stressful as the road was narrow. I felt ready to just shout at an oncoming car to get out of the way to let me just finish my struggle on a slightly clear bit of road. Someone was watching over me as no vehicle came by and a car only appeared, once I'd pulled into the side of the road to get my breath back. 

Having regained a bit of energy and composure I restarted my ride along this lonely backroad that still climbed, though with a much more manageable gradient than the initial scary section. Riding along, I took the time to admire the local landscape - which was beautifully desolate. It was all just heather and sheep, with a few rocky outcrops. I wondered why there is such a dearth of cyclists around this area. Sure the gradient will put people off, but there's no shortage of folks on Honister and Hardknott passes, which are even steeper.

I can only imagine that the Old Rake and Broughton Fells are not big tourist areas, and I guess that the many cyclists who are bagging climbs on the various lists of bucket list climbs don't feel the same bragging rights when they say "I conquered the Old Rake" - [the Old what?] compared to saying "I conquered Wrynose Pass".

My route took me through some bijou farm villages near Broughton Mills, then I was hit with another stinker of a climb - Birker Fell, a brutal 25% ramp that hit me as soon as I turned right from the main road. This time there were vehicles travelling in both directions on this challenging ramp, though they all mercifully gave way to me, probably with a mixture of pity and admiration.

I must say, this area is pretty spectacular. You are high up above everything else around, and there are incredible views across the various valleys. After the initial 25% climb you are still climbing, though it is a combination of false flat and gentle climbing, and the route just continues up and up. It wasn't totally desolate, as there were various people who had found little nooks and crannies among the bushes and rocks to stop and have a picnic. Also, as it was quite a twisty road, there were quite a number of motorbikers who had also taken this route. 

The road from Hawkshead to Coniston

Eventually, the road plunged towards Eskdale, and that was an extended stretch of downhill, with technical bends at times, but still sweeping enough to get a good flow and really enjoy the drop. I must admit I wouldn't have wanted to ride up that - particularly judging by the faces of the handful of cyclists I saw coming up it! 

Once at Eskdale Green, I took the chance to have a bit of lunch before tackling the big one - Hardknott Pass. 

While I had been able to cycle up the other steep climbs of the day, I sensed that Hardknott would be a bridge too far for me. At least for now, I should try and enjoy the calm before the storm at Eskdale Green. It was very tempting to pop into the nearby pub - which is what many walkers and cyclists in the vicinity were doing, but a beer was not really going to help my cause.

The view of the road in the distance already gave me a sense of foreboding as I could see the trail of vehicles snaking up it in stop-start fashion as cars had to give way to others that were negotiating the incredibly steep hairpins. Even though there was a signboard clearly stating that the road was only suitable for light vehicles it didn't stop a camper van from attempting the pass. They got to the first hairpin, struggled and then realised the error of their ways and tried to turn back - er, not really possible. So they were caught in a no man's land of not being able to advance, but not being able to reverse either as there was a trail of vehicles behind them.

So an almighty traffic jam resulted and folks all had to reverse down hill to the nearby car park and let the silly (and probably embarrassed) driver get off the pass and find a sensible route. I'm surprised there wasn't much tooting of horns or road rage. I can only imagine that folks are used to these shenanigans from tourists.

Indeed, Hardknott Pass, approximately one-mile long has hairpins with gradients of 30%, with the "easier" sections dropping to 25%. There is no way I would have been able to ride that. I cycled up the initial 25% section, but once the slope got steeper I climbed off my bike and walked. At one point the road momentarily levelled off to something around 12%, so I made the most of riding that, but I am not ashamed to say I walked up the majority of the pass. It wasn't a wasted journey though, as the views made the effort worthwhile. These were definitely the best vistas of the day. 

Wrynose Pass, with it's "merciful" 25% hairpins was still a challenge for me, mainly because there were quite a lot of cars on this Easter Sunday and I couldn't guarantee that I would be able to control the bike on such a steep gradient if a car in front of me suddenly had to stop. It was therefore easier for me to walk that section too. 

Don't even imagine that the descents were a chance to relax. With the slopes feeling almost like riding down a wall, it required a lot of care and attention, and sometimes I even felt out of breath going downhill, such was the drop!

Hardknott Pass

Eventually, the descent became more sweeping and I was able to enjoy the Langdale area with it's various little rivers among the moorland. 

Once again I felt glad to be on a bike and not in a car as there was another hold-up along the road which was too narrow for cars to pass each other easily. Motorists using this road need to be quite confident about negotiating passing places and it only takes one timid driver to hesitate when passing through the gaps and that leads to a log jam for everyone - which is what happened in this instant. 

Luckily I, and the following motorbikers were able to squeeze around the cars and continue the homeward descent unhindered.

Time was marching on - it was around 6pm by this point so I was keen to get onto the main road back to Windermere. Eventually that moment came, though not without a few more cheeky rises in the road. At last I was not far from Bowness on Windermere, and a huge feeling of relief swept through me, knowing that it wouldn't be long before dinner time. Although I had been out all day, and done 50 or so miles with 1800m of climbing, I felt quite energised and motivated to have scaled all the different climbs (apart from the Hardknott-Wrynose deathly duo). So I took the A593 with gusto breezing through Ambleside and Troutbeck before finally reaching the familiar roundabout at the entrance to Windermere Town.

It had been a long and varied day, but I felt happy with where I'd been and what I'd done.

Routes

Fellfoot and The Struggle loop on Strava

Coniston - Broughton - Hardknott loop on Strava

Related posts

Mountain bike ride in the Lake District

My Tour of Lombardy

Lakeland adventures

Photo of the day - 30: Flashback Friday post

The path back to Ings from the Garburn Pass

This is not a trip I did in October, but at the end of August, over the bank holiday weekend - something from which I have happy memories. This year may have been a little different due to the Covid-19 pandemic, but I have done as much as I can to maintain a near normal everyday life, and to find equally fun alternatives to the things which are currently off-limits. I had planned on going to France in the summer, but because I didn't fancy doing a 14-day quarantine on my return I decided not to do the trip. Every Thursday, the government makes an announcement about the latest countries to go on the quarantine list. The problem with that is that Boris Johnson and his government only give two days' notice before the new rules come into effect. This means that while you're on holiday, if the country you are in suddenly gets announced as being on the list you then have to make a mad dash home in order to avoid going into quarantine. I wouldn't want to have that Damoclean sword hanging over me while trying to enjoy my trip or after I have booked my travel plans. So to avoid those issues, I decided to take my summer break within the UK - like most other people. And it hasn't been bad at all. At the end of July I went to the Peak District, and a month later I went to the Lake District. This photo is from when I did a mountain bike ride from Ings, mid-way between Kendal and Windermere and rode over a trail known as the Garburn Pass to reach Kentmere village. Initially the trail was manageable, with lovely views of Lake Windermere, Kirkstone Pass, and peaks like Stony Cove Pike and Red Screes in the distance. The ride became a little bit tough as the path became strewn with lots of rocks and boulders. Being on my 20-year old hard-tail didn't really cut it so I spent a bit of time doing hike-a-bike, including on the descent. 

Eventually, the path became more manageable as I was on a very bumpy adrenaline-filled descent to the village of Kentmere. From there my ride then went over another undulating bridleway that went past heather covered pastures along single track and through fords. The area looked really pretty in the sunshine, and it seemed that this was quite a popular area with cyclists, as I bumped into quite a few - a couple of family rides as well as club mountain bikers. By the time I arrived back in Ings I had a big smile on my face, having enjoyed a really fun ride. 

Ings is quite a handy place. There are wild and wonderful areas to go walking, a popular country pub, and more importantly for me, a mountain bike shop, Bike Treks.

I definitely plan to return there again and ride it with a full suspension bike. Hopefully I will get up to near Ullswater. Or maybe I will just head over with the masses to Grizedale Forest. I don't know entirely where I will go, but as a certain famous pop star said, I promise it won't be boring.

Lakeland Adventures

So here I am getting myself ready for another bike trip. It's not to do something as world renown as the Tour of Flanders, or to find some early season sunshine like in the Tour of the Amalfi coast - far from it. I'm off to do the Fred Whitton Challenge in the Lake District. And challenge it most certainly will be. This is one of the oldest cyclosportives in the UK, and it is also probably the hardest. Just hearing people mention Hardknott Pass gives me a sense of fear and loathing !

People often talk about famous climbs that are really hardcore - Alpe d'Huez, Mont Ventoux, the Muur etc. You feel a sense of apprehension once you arrive at the foot of this intimidating climb. You start off modestly, and then you realise - this isn't too bad. There's usually one, possibly two moderately difficult sections but they're over and done with quite quickly. You realise that it's do-able as long as you're properly geared and reasonably fit. Once you've finished the climb you feel a huge sense of achievement. You may even wonder what all the fuss was about !

Well, I was very apprehensive about riding Hardknott Pass when I went to the Lake District three weeks ago, I was intimidated when I saw the climb, I was on the rivet when I started the climb, I nearly maxed out at the top of the climb, and was shell-shocked when doing the descent. I did it, but with great difficulty, and just felt relief when it was over. Having to take on a series of 30% climbs with horrendously steep switchbacks for more than a mile is no laughing matter. It doesn't matter what gearing you have on your bike - whatever you have, you will be over-geared ! I know exactly what the fuss was about - in fact I wonder why there is not more fuss made about it ! More importantly I wonder if 3 weeks has been enough time for me to recover from that awful cycling experience !

When we rode it we had already ridden 50 miles. This Sunday when we ride it
during the Fred Whitton Challenge we will have 100 hilly miles in our legs, after having done Kirkstone, Whinlatter, Newlands and the dreaded Honister passes. Oh, my God ! Well I'm not even bothering with racing pedals - spd's for me so I can walk up the road easily - as I will inevitably have to do at some point ! I've also packed wet weather gear, and have put my Continental 25mm Gatorskin tyres on, for added grip - a necessity for when coming down one of the many infamously steep descents in the rain.

Apart from that small detail of the 112mile cyclosportive, I am looking forward to the trip. This will be my second time in the Lake District this year. Before this year, the last time I had been there was in 2003.
The Lake District may have ridiculously steep roads to climb, and damp weather, but the place is still beautiful. I really loved the views of the mountains and the lakes last time around - I particularly liked the views around Lake Coniston. There was a great sense of tranquility, riding through the forest, with the Lake just beside me and the mountains just beyond the lake. The sun even made an appearance, which revealed the various colours of the mountains in all their splendour.

I shall look forward to seeing all that again, and possibly doing some walking. I might even manage to fit in a boat trip.