The longest day usually entails an east to west chase the sun ride. Or a Solstice century. I’ve done the latter and thought about the former.

After doing the Dynwich Dynamo last year a new challenge came to mind. Take advantage of the shortest night of the year.

But where to ride?

I’ve been an intermittant visitor to the Rapha clubhouse in London since I started riding to the Moof IT office on a Friday. The clubhouse in Manchester seemed an ideal destination.

It would also mean my longest single ride.

I tried to entice some companions, but was unsuccessful.

I did start to wonder, given the above, if it was just too mad an idea. But then plenty of people ride greater distances. There is the Transcontinental race, Race across America, the Mallorca 312 (a sportive ridden for “fun”) and many more. The UK has the North Coast 500, London - Edinburgh - London (950 miles) and I’m sure you’ve heard of Lands End to John O Groats, or the other way round.

So maybe I’m not so strange.

The day started as they seem to lately before an adventure with the lack of a good night’s sleep. I never feel overly anxious as the start approaches. I did get an early night but woke just after midnight. I lay there for a while, eventually getting up, eating and having a glass of water. Then going back to bed. I hope it’s a ritual I can change. Waking later I had a proper breakfast, then went for a walk to Coughlans for coffee and cake. Got to continue that carb loading.

A few errands and then another stroll, this time to see the Caterham car show - part of the Caterham festival.

I had another nap, and started writing this blog. My intention was to be at the Rapha store in time to leave at 16:00. But it was very hot, and no-one was meeting me there so I didn’t leave the house until that time. Patchy rain followed me. I had thought my clothing choice was going to be easy after getting worried during the week. As I left the house I was again undecided about what I should wear. The larger than normal saddle bag meant I could cover most bases.

After coffee and an energy bar, vegan food is often out of stock, at Rapha London. I opened the route on my cycle computer and contemplated the task ahead.

took a deep breath and pressed go

Riding through London is rarely pleasant, the heat and humidity didn’t help. Past Camden it was much less busy and then with the Highgate Hill climb behind me I relaxed into the ride. London does spread a long way so it was good when my route started to include quieter lanes.

Although it was now early evening the temperature seemed to be increasing, the humidity was certainly climbing. It had felt a little surreal as I drank my coffee amongst the clubhouse staff. They would shortly be going home, I would be heading north. That feeling returned as I past pubs and restaurants with many people sitting outside reveling in the wonderful weather.

As is nearly always the case the Garmin would play cruel games with me. I rode a small circle around St Albans. If I miss a turning, rather allow me to retrace and return to the route I am sometimes sent on a loop. I’m used to it now so I kept calm and rode on.

Completing long rides present many challenges, food being one of them. I had a lot of energy bars but wanted to save them for later so I stopped at a small convenience store. I’d forgotten to bring my packable rucksack; so how to carry my haul? I ate some of it straight away but the loaf was more of a test.

A little later felt a better time for my first ride meal.

I knew sustenance was going to be an issue with most places shutting around 10 or 11. Pubs and petrol stations being some of the best late stop places.

The choice of food can be limited though. I stopped at a pub for coffee, two H20’s and to eat some of my own. It was also good to top up my water bottles.

the H20’s didn’t make it away from the bar.

Soon after the sun set.

Leighton Buzzard was just closing as I arrived. I ate chips outside a fried chicken shop and watched drunken revelers make their way home.

The next big town - Milton Keynes. The cycle paths are extensive, well maintained but surprising busy at nearly midnight. Which made for slow, frustrating progress.

I don’t tend to think about the enormity of a long distance trip, just the next couple of hours and what they might bring. So the distance countdown wasn’t on my mind. But I did watch the estimated time at destination as it fluctuated. There was a train to catch. Maybe I’ll remove it from the display. A check-in time isn’t much of a concern, but a train departure is.

There weren’t many photo opps, it being mostly dark so when I came upon the Queen Eleanor Cross I paused.

Northampton wasn’t a pleasant section, lots of big roads and poor cycle paths, it was a relief to have it be past it.

The route planning software tends to skirt around big towns if at all possible, even missing small villages for long periods. The next few hours reminded me of the Dynwich Dynamo, I could have been the only person out and about - almost total silence. I had worried about the lights I own. Would the front one illuminate my way for the length of darkness. I had a backup and battery pack just in case. It was set to its lowest setting, which was just enough. It lasted without a problem.

The temperature still allowed just short sleeves until nearly 2 am. The wind increased but I only needed the shower jacket from my pack to ward it off.

My intention was a sunrise picture, but I think I became distracted by the Garmin taking me on multiple loops in and around Swadlincote. By the time I got sorted the sun had risen well above the horizon and the birds were in full song. This sound usually heralds the start of a new day, and I’d missed that too.

By 6 am I had reached Wootton the breeze was now a headwind and the sky was grey. Cooler than Saturday, I could have done without the extra resistance. Especially as the steep climbs had started.

topography or the journey

And a milestone, my longest greatest distance had been 165 miles on day one of my ride to Cornwall in 2022, I was now at over 170 miles.

It was at times very tough going. Some hills were just too much of a challenge for the condition I was in. And were ascended on foot.

Every downhill was cause for a little celebration. The beautiful countryside would have stopped me to take a pictue, but not today. I’ll come back to the area for that.

The next fifty miles are a bit of a blur. I wasn’t exhausted, but fatigue was setting in. That estimated arrival time was now impacting my appreciation of my surroundings. I can now understand why books I have read about long journeys always become more vague from about half way. The writer is maybe tiring of the experience and is starting to think about the end. If, and that’s a big if, I do anything like this again a hotel or b&b room will be the ultimate port of call.

I do remember the rain though. Sometimes a drizzle, occasionally a fair bit heavier. The lightweight jacket from Decathlon did me proud. I didn’t sweet as it kept me dry.

I’ve mentioned before how the last 10 to 20 miles seem to drag, and this time was no exception. When was I going to see a sign with Manchester written on it?

Eventually of course I arrived at the outskirts and navigated my way through the traffic to the Rapha clubhouse. And a bit of an anti climax to be honest. I don’t know what I expected - a fanfair, bunting, crowds of well wishers, the mayor. It was just shop staff, one other cyclist who was just leaving and me. I even forgot to take a picture of my bike outside the shop.

I finished my cakes and coffee then asked for directions to the station. I don’t know why I bothered. None of the, I’m sure, very good instructions sank in. I thanked him and left. I did remember he said it was well signposted. I must have missed them all because I just rode aimlessly around for a bit. I then received an email from the train company to say my train had been cancelled.

I was still not at the station though so asked a cyclist as we waited at a traffic light. He started to give me directions but must have realised from my blank expression and thousand yards stare it was landing with me. He then said follow me I’ll lead you to it. Music to my ears.

On arrival he asked me what had brought me to Manchester. He seemed very impressed and told me he wanted to get fit enough to ride to his home town in the Brecon Beacons from his flat in the city. I wished him good luck, shook his hand and headed towards the ticket office.

Once I was booked onto the next train my attention turned to food. Two meals from Leons wasn’t enough so I had a vegan Cornish pasty from a Ginsters stand. It was undercooked so the pastry was a bit chewy. I couldn’t be bothered to take it back. Then it was time to board. With my bike stowed I took my seat, and fell into a deep sleep. I awoke about ten minutes from Euston and realised I was in the wrong seat. It had been reserved, but whoever it was for never disturbed me. The thing is, I wasn’t even in the right carriage.

There was then a bit of grief from the train steward. I hadn’t affixed the bike booking label to my bike. This had caused a delay at each stop while they waited for me to pick it up. I then remembered reading the instructions and thinking I must do that after I’d eaten. Although I’m not sure how I’d have done this, given that I didn’t have sticky tape or any other way to attach the piece of paper.

I just kept saying my train had been cancelled and the person at the ticket office hadn’t given me all of the paperwork. Eventually the steward gave up and let me go. Sorry ticket office person at Manchester station. I hope the the promised complaint wasn’t made.

I often read ultra distance athletes say even a very short sleep during the event can rejuvenate. I was never completely convinced. But my couple of unconscious hours had restored me a little. Not enough to want to ride the 20 miles home, but enough to get me the 2 miles to Victoria, and then the just under 3 from Upper Warlingham station, with a hill, to my house.

Another snack and I was in bed my 19:30.

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Posts tagged with longest-day

Solstice - chase the moon