A first 600 for me and quite an experience.
Decided not to stay the night before so 3.30am start. In the scheme of things I didn't think an hour would make much difference.
Started the ride with Tim from London and Gary from Winchester. Although the pace was OK for the first 100km it was just 1 or 2 km per hour faster than I was used to. So I could keep up, but felt the effects later. Lesson No. 1 learned. Round about the 100km mark I had a crap period as I made the mistake of thinking I had to do the same thing 5 more times.
Followed the usual Denmead route to Bishops Waltham, south of Winchester and into the Test valley to the first control Wilton; quick service and beans on toast. What more can you ask for? Then a pretty meander up to Bradford on Avon through some nice countryside, where there were a few riders coming back towards us and we wondered if we'd got it wrong, but they were on the Avalon Sunrise 400. All had that 'been up all night' look which we were working on.
BoA to Cirencester was not particulaly enjoyable. At Castle Coombe circuit there was a 'Bike Safety Day' with motorcyclists ripping it up around the circuit, then tearing round the roads afterwards. There was a bit of other traffic trying to see how close it could get to the end of my bars, and overtaking on corners when there's someting coming the other way just as a giant pothole approaches.
Lumpy around the info at Wootton under Edge and then a straightfoward run-in to Cirencester, except for my only punct*re of the qualifying campaign. Glad to get to sit down in McDonalds. Getting colder now at about 8pm so layered up and fixed lighting in preparation rather than stop again - lesson learnt from earlier audaxes.
Hilly work to Sutton Scotney; first bit flat then 'Lambourn, valley of the racehorse'. The village sign doesn't say it is unique in being a valley on top of a monster hill. In the distance was spectacular lightning and the top of the Membury transmitter to guide us. It felt the only hill in the area missing on the routesheet was Inkpen.
By now I'd had enough. The hills, the organiser and everyone was being gratuitously cursed for my state of tiredness and I was wondering how I was going to keep going for another 18 hours: it's hard not to think of the overall distance but I was more knackered at this point than the end of my 400. Gary was a star and shepherded me to Sutton Scotney for just before 3am, where I was attacked by 1. a rude garage assistant who was too busy talking to his mates on the phone to refill the coffee machine and 2. a huge flying beastie, clearly attracted to my hi viz.
Limped back to Denmead for just before 6am. Black thoughts all the way and could easily have packed but kept going because
(a) I've told the whole world I'm doing PBP
(b) a rational thought somewhere at the back of my mind reminded me I would always regret it if I packed
(c) I recalled AndyH's forum comment on the K&SW when he felt the same and his wife told him to man up and get on with it; he lived to tell the tale and complete and I should do the same
(d) might feel better after some sleep
(e) there had been a bit of effort made to get this far over the last year so another 12 hours of pain wouldn't make much difference
Funnily enough the only genuine excuse I might have had, that I came off the bike last week and was pretty sore having trashed hip, elbow and helmet, didn't even enter my mind.
Got an hour's sleep in the car and felt a whole load better. Had my toothbrush which made me feel reinvigorated - definately on the packing list for PBP. Looking back should have slept earlier, when it was dark and I needed it (lesson 2 learned). Next time I'll take a leaf out of Drew Buck's book, who we had passed having a catnap on the verge, and of whom I felt strangely jealous.
It was a classic audaxing scene - bike lain on the ground and rider horizontal beside it, arms crossed for warmth. I'd read about and seen pictures of people kipping anywhere and everywhere, but never seen it myself and this made the whole long distance thing seem real. I'd always smiled before thinking 'look how knackered they are, just sleeping anywhere'. Now I knew exactly how it felt and I could have fallen asleep on the central reservation of the M25 at that point.
The second loop was down to Lymington which was OK and I managed to keep up 20kph average which I was happy with as I was right on the time limit when I left Denmead. Careful not to thrash myself with 220km to go and gradually got some time back in hand.
Lots of cyclists out in the New Forest along with quite a few tw*ts driving too fast in souped up sports cars, black BMWs or camper vans with blacked out windows. Great views of the sailing boats on the solent on stretch from Bucklers Hard to Lymington, where it started to rain; in fact it was now properly pissing down, all the way to Ower control with another nice hill thrown in at Fordingbridge.
McDonalds chips at Ower services have become something of an audaxing tradition in this house and so it continued, fuelling me nicely for the last leg. As always the last 10km seem interminable but finally got in at 8.30pm for a rendevous with the cashpoint control. Had a chat with the legendary Drew Buck, who has done 5 PBPs including one dressed as an onion johnny (complete with onions) on a 1920s bike, and will be interested to see what he rides this year. He explained that on these bikes he cannot draft becuase the brakes are not responsive enough compared to modern ones. Triple chapeau then to do PBP without ever sitting on someone else's wheel.
The drive home was interesting and all sorts of funny shapes jumped out of the shadows and familiar roadside objects transformed themselves into something completely different. The wonders of sleep deprivation. Who needs drugs for a mind-altering experience? All you need to do is sit on a bike for 40 hours.
So that's my Super Randonneur series completed (a 200, 300, 400 and 600 in one year) and more importantly qualification for Paris Brest Paris in August.
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