Cleveland Wheelers

Distance 5.4 miles from Dufton, around 4.7 from the road end (8 or 9k)

Max Gradient 15%, average 8%

Introduction

Most climbs don’t get an introduction, but this one is a bit out of the ordinary. What if I told you that there was a road in Britain that finished on top of a mountain that was just short of 2,800 feet? What if that road was superbly surfaced and pothole free? What if this road was 5 miles long, or 8 kilometres if you prefer, and rose at an average just short of 8%? What if this road was through a stunning, dramatic and beautiful location? And finally what if I told you that this road was virtually traffic free? Is he living in dreamland you might justifiably ask? But it’s true. The road up to the summit of Great Dun Fell is all these things, so what’s the catch? Actually there isn’t one. It’s remote, but then that’s a big part of its appeal. The only thing that’s strange about it is why this climb isn’t a Mecca for UK cyclists.

Where do you find it/How to get there?

Normally we don’t include climbs that aren’t in the local area but for this one we made an exception. The nearest town is Appleby in Westmorland but, if you are going out to climb it, it makes sense to take it in as part of a longer ride. We chose Kirby Stephen as our start point and then made our way towards Dufton, then Knock at the foot of the climb. These roads were great cycling country in themselves, free of traffic and providing great views of the Pennines looming ominously to our right. They are tough rolling roads though so I was somewhat surprised to hear what I thought was some kind of auction going on behind me between Ian and Rob as they shouted out 210, 220, 240, 265 etc. ‘Where do they find the breath I thought?’ Apparently they were talking wattage as they have some new fangled Powermeter Gizmos, all I knew was that I had to save as much of it as I could. It was telling that with an unerring regularity we all took turns to look up towards the radar station on top of the fell. The lie of the land here somehow makes Great Dun Fell seem lower than it is. Its rounded shape can almost go unnoticed as you drive past it along the A66 but to put it in perspective it is nearly as high as Blencathra which is the impressively shaped and seemingly huge peak on your right as you enter the Lake District from Penrith. Or only 250ft short of Skiddaw, the large peak that dominates Keswick, and to think the road literally finishes right on the top, a sobering thought.

Description

The website www.climbbybike.com actually lists the climb as 9k long and starts it just beyond Dufton where the road starts to rise. The logical starting place though is the right turn at the road end after Knock when you literally start to head for the hills. The road seems flat to start with as you grind your way along a straight section in the general direction of the summit, as your speed drops to an alarmingly slow pace, you hope that this is some sort of optical illusion. If I’d been on my own I would have been checking for the dreaded slow puncture or rubbing brake block but Ian, Dave and Rob are all finding it hard going too. After a kilometre or so you are in no doubt that you are going up as the road swings right ‘if it carries on like this I’m going to be in difficulty’ says Dave. Unfortunately for him it does, at least for a good while yet. Even more unfortunately for Dave he has made the judgement error of just looking at the average gradient of 8% and thinking he can get away with a 25 sprocket. I am smug with my 28 knowing that average gradients can be deceptive and that there are some sustained sections of around 15%. It is also payback for the day last year when Dave spun happily up Hardknott Pass in his 32 sprocket, and I struggled up in ‘only’ a 29; today it is he who will have sprocket envy.

This tough initial section carries for a kilometre or so until it eases as you approach a gate at a cattle grid. You need to stop to open this and then you are faced with another tough steep section, once over this the true majesty of the climb reveals itself as you then enter what seems to be a small dip in the road, probably just about flat in reality, in any case enjoy this while you can. To the left of the road is the impressive chasm of Knock Ore Gill, up ahead are two really steep sections of sustained 12-15% interspersed by a short easier section. This is the real crux of the climb, get over this and the hard work is done, almost.

On its own this two kilometre stretch would probably score a 7 or 8. Select your lowest gear and just keep going until the gradient finally starts to ease and the road swings left towards the dome of the radar station. I chose not to try to follow Rob at this point for fear of blowing and I watched him gradually pull away in his 39×25, a wise choice because bearing in mind how long it lasts I may well have done. He told me at the top that this was the only way he felt he could keep the pedals turning smoothly; otherwise he may have ground to a halt. After riding this section at only around 6-7 mph it was good to have the luxury of clicking up a couple of gears and picking up a bit of speed as the percentage went down to something like 5%. This next half mile allows you to get some of the lactic out of your legs, this is just as well as there is a final cruel ramp up to the summit, again 12-15% for a couple of hundred metres. A few more pedal turns and you are on top of the second highest point in the Pennines, only the neighbouring Cross Fell is higher and only marginally so. All that is left is to cross the bumpy cattle grid, claim the summit and marvel at the views in all directions, simply magnificent.

Descent

Brilliant but you need to be careful of the speed as 50 mph + is easily achievable. Sheep seemed to like the top but weren’t around on the rest of the climb. The surface is just about perfect but the road does dip and roll and has some tight corners at a couple of places so you do feel that you get thrown around a bit and you need your wits and concentration about you, there are a couple of places where coming off would be disastrous. Once past the cattle grid and gate the bottom section is quite straight and with a tailwind it would be a top speed personal best opportunity I would think.

Sheep Rating (out of 5)

Not too bad but plenty around the top.

Photos

Our Ratings and Comments

How hard is it?

• Paul. It’s long and sustained pain rather than intense excruciating pain that you sometimes get with the Moors climbs, but the duration – it took us around 35 minutes to climb it – makes this a serious proposition. You also have to consider where you are going; conditions can get very serious up here. We were fortunate enough to have a near perfect wind free day and it was still tough. With even a moderate wind coming down off the fell it would be marginal for most riders I think. Even the bottom bit, which bizarrely looks flat, is tough, similar to the bottom section of Birk Brow from Charltons and draws something out of you before it really starts to rear up. This was confirmed when on the descent we approached 40 mph on it without too much effort. Best climb that I’ve done I think and all things considered then it’s a 10 for me.
• Ian. It’s a 10 from me. It’s the hardest climb I’ve ever done, the anti clockwise sweep of continued blind summits with such an over bearing in-crouching landscape is not for the faint. I loved it for its unremitting suffer fest in such a beautiful landscape & it’s a bonus with the lack of traffic.
• Rob. Second that Paul, brilliant day, cheers lads. My thoughts on the climb are as follows: having had a few hours to reflect personally I was blown away with the length of the climb (8km approx) and difficulty. I felt I couldn’t get into any sort of rhythm on the climb due to the constantly changing gradients. The length of some of the steeper sections (12-15% in places) surprised me and I was really hurting towards the last couple of km. Personally I prefer and was expecting a constant shallower gradient but I was really glad to reach the top that’s for sure! Definitely made a big mistake with my gearing, 39×25 was just way too big a gear when you consider the length and steep gradients. Let’s not forget also that the climb was done in perfect conditions with hardly a breath of wind. So to summarise: I’ve done nothing like it before in the UK, and I think it would test riders of all abilities for the above reasons. I would therefore have no hesitation in giving it a 10/10 difficulty rating.
• Dave. My thoughts on the climb? The closest thing in the UK to an Alpine or Spanish climb, but very much like Mont Ventoux, but with UK steepness thrown in for extra difficulty. Wouldn’t like to climb it in poor weather, superb road surface, but I’d opt for a 34/28 next time. I can only award it 9 as at no point did I think I wasn’t going to get up, but it is an extremely difficult 9+. As for Rob and Ian with their power meter talk, all I needed to know was that at several sections I thought my heart was going to pop out my throat and that I had used all my watts just to get up to the top. Great day out though, would love to see the Tour of Britain go up there. Spectacular.

Note the ratings are :-

1. Where’s the slope?
2. No problem
3. Big ring
4. Spinning a gear
5. It’s a difficult one (a homage to Sean Kelly)
6. Light up all the boilers!
7. Handlebar snapper
8. Licking the front wheel
9. Dinner plate required
10. Fetch a nurse!

He couldn’t conceal the look of disappointment, despair even, worse than any defeat he’d suffered in any race, ever.

‘Never mind, I’m sure other cafés will be open’, said Dave, trying as always to think positively.

‘But I like this one, and will they do eggs on toast?’ asked Rob.

‘I’m sure they will’, said Dave reassuringly and then he consulted his internal mental map of all the local tea shops and cafés that were available to us within an hour’s ride before giving us our options.

We considered these as we sat astride the top tubes of our bikes trying to summon up the mental energy to make our way from Castleton Tea Rooms over towards Great Ayton. It didn’t matter how many times Rob looked forlornly at the tables inside, the lights weren’t on, it was definitely shut. Like it or not we simply had to press on. The night before Dave rang me about the ride to say ‘Rob Carter’s coming out’. Normally this would make me think twice, not because I don’t like Rob, he’s a nice bloke, but it’s the pain it would involve you see. Rob is an incredibly strong rider, he competes regularly in Premier Calendar races, as well as doing well in the National Road Race Championships last year, and even an easy ride for him is probably an on the limit ride for me. But before I could think ‘do I really need this in February and only three weeks after an appendix operation’? Dave explained that Rob just wanted to casually potter round some cafes. Great! I thought an easy ride, perfect, but it just didn’t seem to add up based on what I knew of Rob. What I didn’t know is that since I last rode with him, when he was in great shape and powering up Rosedale Chimney, he had succumbed, temporarily at least, to the Dave Kirton School of cycle training. Some might say ‘the Dark Side’.

Not me though. Before I rode regularly with Dave I rarely stopped at cafes, preferring to refuel when I got home after the ride. Now I am a convert, what could be better than passing the day away with your fellow cyclists while you enjoy a brew and a teacake and reflect on the ride you have just done along with planning your next one? As we rode up Rob was already in this mode of thought as he talked about the excitement, not of his upcoming stage race in Morocco, but of all the cafés that he would be riding to today and what he would be eating in each. Cycling would just be a means of getting from one café to another. He was keeping the watts reading low on his Powermeter as he set himself the task of riding at his easiest possible training level as the three of us made our way up over the moor from Lockwood Beck, so this is how he does it I thought? The climb dragged on and I for one was approaching my limit, soon though we were over the high point and descending into Castleton.

And now here we were as Rob looked to Dave (his café stop mentor) to lead him safely from this place of disappointment to the promised land of eggs on toast. The pressure was on and just after we set off again it quickly became clear that Rob’s mental strength just wasn’t where it needed to be, not in cycling terms you understand, it was just… well Great Ayton was simply too far to go and too long to wait. Dave and I looked at one another, we clearly had a crisis on our hands, I imagine that it was like becoming aware that your team leader in the Tour simply couldn’t face going over one more col. I suggested in desperation of trying the Cleveland Inn in Commondale, which was only three miles away, and Dave clung to this. So I then felt pressurised to exaggerate the menu that might be available, remembering a chip buttie that I had many years ago but beyond a that and a pickled egg I was struggling. Rob was fixated on eggs of the fried variety though and digging deep into his suitcase of café knowledge Dave rashly promised Rob that all he could ever want would be available to him in Kildale. The day was seemingly saved and with morale restored the undulations between Castelton and Kildale were miraculously smoothed out, well sort of, and eventually we got our man to the end of the first stage.

Once seated comfortably inside the café the first question Rob asked was ‘Do you do eggs on toast?’ The look from the proprietor suggested that the worst was about to happen, the answer would be no and we would have a broken man on our hands, a man who would give up the bike there and then on the spot and demand that we ring for a taxi. Thankfully we misread the look and ten minutes later the crisis was over, the food was delivered, spirits were high and the next café stop and all that it promised was being discussed. A 35-40 mile ride was enough for me though so I peeled off and made for home, my support role complete as I left them to complete their odyssey. Later in the day I got a text from Dave to let me know that they’d done 55 miles with three café stops – mission accomplished. Dave, his new (or maybe old?) training methods steadily gaining favour, will no doubt be taking credit for laying the foundations for Rob’s upcoming season.

Paul Christon – March 2013

How many bikes does a cyclist need? Maybe need is the wrong word as that suggests you have to justify each bike in some way. I often find myself doing this when backed into a corner by people who just don’t understand. Most people will accept the need for a best bike or race bike, some sort of winter trainer (so your best bike doesn’t get ruined in adverse weather) and a mountain bike. How anyone can exist with just three bikes I can’t imagine. To those three I would need, yes need to have:

• A time trial bike, I don’t do all that many time trials these days but I can’t imagine not having one.
• An alternative to your best bike – bit of a tricky one to explain this, all I can say is that it needs to be different, perhaps a Shimano groupset instead of Campagnolo, a different frame material or something like that.
• A fixed or single speed machine, ideally built up out of the spare parts bin. The main reason you need one of these is so can debate gearing with other people who have built up similar machines. ‘I’m running 68 inches, what do you run on?’ that kind of thing.
• Another bike – this is a bike that you have that you never really ride. There’s nothing wrong with it but there’s always another bike that seems more appropriate to ride. You think of getting rid of it but it’s comforting to have it in reserve just in case.

So those are the seven types of bike that I had until a short while ago. There are many others I could justify if I needed to, a cross bike, a classic English or Italian steel bike, a hybrid, a unicycle, I could go on and I frequently do, normally for the benefit of my wife you understand. Over the last year I’ve managed, rather painfully it has to be said, to ‘move on’ a couple of bikes to get me down to seven. On a more positive note I’ve also moved house and have created a space for a new recruit, which I think is needed as I feel that there’s something missing in my life. Trouble was I couldn’t quite work out what type of bike to get. Then while out on an easy spin with Dave Kirton it came to us. Dave had rather annoyingly overtaken me on the bikes front, as my stable had been declining he’d been increasing his stock justifying new bikes left right and centre, getting old frames sprayed, taking advantage of the Bike to Work Scheme and unearthing long lost frames from the corner of his garage to build up into new machines. However, Dave, in a moment of crisis, had become quite philosophical about his stable of bikes. In fact I could see the worry on his face as he said…

‘What if one day I think that’s it I’ll never need another bike?’

This of course is quite a ridiculous notion and to any right thinking person this situation could never actually occur in real life. It’s like saying ‘what if the earth suddenly stopped spinning would we all fly off into space?’ But remember Dave wasn’t thinking straight, he was in a state of panic, so a solution needed to be found, and quickly, so to help him out we started to talk possibilities. It was when we were discussing what to do with an old 531 frame he had rather impressively made himself that a new type of machine came to us. A Café Stop Bike! And so a new breed of bike was born and since we invented it we set the rules for what it must be.

So if you’ve read this far, firstly I applaud you for your persistence, but secondly I assume you want an answer to the questions:

‘What on earth is this idiot droning on about? And ‘What’s a bloody Café Stop Bike anyway?’

Well firstly you must be able to ride to the café or tea shop on it, in fact all the way from your doorstep to the café. If it fails on this point it simply won’t do and you’ll have to call it something else – a ‘Going Only as far as the Post Office Bike’ for example. Secondly it must look good, there’s no point sitting in a nice warm cafe looking through the window at a rusting heap with buckled wheels and a scuffed saddle. You also want fellow cyclists to cast it a glance and give a nod of approval as they wander past – feeling proud of your bike is part of the experience. However it shouldn’t be immaculate or too flashy, so this rules out just going to the bike shop and buying a new bike or going on eBay and buying up loads of expensive retro components. What we’d like to see is a carefully thought out bike built up yourself, ideally with a Campag 9 speed groupset – that’s the one thing our bikes have in common, and remember we set the rules, so there.

As long as you stick to these rules you have a free hand and soon we expect manufacturers to jump on the bandwagon and produce these machines in vast numbers, you heard it here first. Stranger things have happened; after all who would have thought that fixed wheel road bikes would actually be renamed ‘Fixies’ and would be manufactured from new when everyone used to make them up for next to nowt from the spare parts bin!

As a final point if you think that having all these bikes is overdoing it somewhat think on this: at the Wheelers’ Bring and Buy sale as I was packing up my stall in October at the end of the night an elderly gent came up and bought a set of old brakes off me for a bargain £4. He’d already been to the stall a few times that night and seemed to buy the brakes in desperation. As he left he nudged me with his elbow in a knowing way before adding ‘well I had to buy something tonight as I’ve got 107 bikes at home. I was in no doubt that he was telling me the truth and shortly afterwards Norman Bielby confirmed that this was true. So now I’m back up to 8 it seems that I only have another 99 to go!

Paul Christon – December 2011

It had just gone 7am as I looked out of the window of the climbing hut, the valley was enveloped in low grey cloud and it was raining, if not heavily but persistently. A typical Lakes day then, one where it is hard to imagine it ever being dry again, yet you irrationally hope will clear quickly.

Now it was 8.30am and the start time loomed, the rain had become heavier and was bouncing off the floor, a few last minute checks on equipment and visits to the toilet only delayed the inevitable, we simply had to get going. Time to introduce you to the cast:

John Kelly. John is a keen cyclist and club run regular and while enjoying the odd climb in moderation it is fair to say that he felt that this ride included too much of a good thing. John very generously offered to be our team car/broom wagon/soigneur/mechanic for the day. We all hoped that he would master the art of the ‘sticky bottle’ and ‘magic spanner’ as the day went on. The ride would have been really difficult without him. Oh and he also narrowly beat Mick in Dave Kirton’s Best Snorer competition the night before the ride.

Dave Kirton. Judge of the Best Snorer competition, owner of the biggest rear sprocket, a 32! And eternal optimist. Completer of two Marmottes, Dave likes to see himself as a strange mixture of propulsion devices: a powerful diesel when he’s churning along undulating roads, he ‘gets the turbine going’ when he winds up the pace, but as he nears his limit he ‘lights up his boilers’ and on rare occasions when he nears collapse ‘the dashboard warning lights will come on’. Dave is also a man who likes a sandwich or rather a small suitcase full and generally a good man to have around.

Mick Rennison. Mick is infamous for his lack of bike maintenance and as you ride with him expect bits from his bike to gradually loosen themselves before rolling down the road. Despite admitting that hills are not exactly his strength (Mick prefers to focus on developing his formidable sprint) he was going to ride round this on a normal chainset until I scared him with horror stories of Hardknott. Mick would also become our unofficial Weatherman for the day.

John Price. Paris Brest Paris finisher (1,200 km) and veteran of other numerous long distance Audax events, as well as a vast experience of long distance fell running and rock climbing, John was my banker to get round this come what may. It worried me a little therefore when the night before he told me that this ride worried him, mainly due to the severity of the climbs.

Paul Christon. That’s me, solid cyclist and fell runner, I along with John P had the disadvantage of knowing the Lakes really well and more or less every inch of the route. In a cycling sense I suppose hills are my strength but in the grand scheme of things that doesn’t mean an awful lot!

A mention must also go to Ian Jones who was hoping to do the ride with us but unfortunately had to pull out. Ian had done much of the preparation rides with us including a ride up Rosedale Chimney. A bit of a mountain goat I’m sure that Ian would have got round. As the saying goes ‘the hills will always be there’.

It is now 11 am and it is still raining despite numerous hopeful comments by us all, but mainly Mick, saying that it was about to clear. I am feeling rather sorry for myself as I freewheel down the beautiful Newlands Valley. My attempts to recover from a cold haven’t been helped by forgetting my waterproof cycling jacket so I’m wet, cold and considering slipping into our Broom Wagon. More worryingly John Price, of all people, has just told me that he’s not feeling too great, are we going to get round?

As planned we had set off in the rain just after 8.30 from Patterdale rather than the traditional Coniston start point. Being a circular route and with our accommodation being right on the route we felt that this made sense. For those of you not familiar with it the Fred Whitton is an 112 mile sportive event that is run in the memory of the man himself who died in 1998. It takes in the six big Lakeland passes – Honister, Newlands, Whinlatter, Hardknott, Wrynose and Kirkstone as well as six other tough climbs. We had thought about entering the official sportive event but it is massively oversubscribed so we may not have all got in. So as an alternative we came up with the idea of taking to Wheelers’ Club Run on Tour. The first challenge of the day was the drag up to Matterdale End, a steady climb of around 5-6% this was a gentle introduction to what lay ahead. We all eased ourselves up this before taking it steady down towards the A66 and then Keswick. We had decided beforehand to take the sections between the climbs really easy and enjoy the route rather than press on for a quick time.

The bit down Borrowdale started with Mick’s computer unseating itself and flying off down the road. As we approached Honister it was… well wet… very wet and is best summed up by this quote from John P afterwards:

‘Riding down Borrowdale Mick our team meteorologist declared, “that’s it, the rain’s over”. Since at the time we were approaching Seathwaite (wettest place in England at 126 inches per year) I thought Mick was being a bit optimistic. Five minutes later the cardboard peak on my cap started dissolving in another downpour of biblical proportions. All this while I’m trying to winch myself up Honister Pass’.

Honister is a brute, from either side, but from the Borrowdale side it starts really steep at 25% before easing then kicking up again right at the end. Bearing this in mind and what was to come later I decided to employ my bottom gear of 34×29 and try to get up as easily as possible, which still hurts by the way. Another problem we had was the fact that it was wet which meant that as soon as you got out of the saddle the rear wheel slipped or had ‘Major Traction Problems’ as Dave called it. I rode up with Dave and we both nearly came off due to this before realising that you had to stay seated.

By this stage I was already soaked and my hands were cold and barely able to feel the bars never mind the brakes on the descent. I was really glad get down in one piece and to see John K waiting for us at the bottom. Here I decided to change into full finger gloves and another dry but unfortunately not waterproof jacket. Dave later admitted that he was getting concerned about my condition at this point. After taking on board some fluid we were off towards Newlands which follows Honister more or less immediately.

Newlands is, rather surprisingly in my view, not mentioned that often as a serious climb, but believe me when I say that it is. Kicking up from Buttermere it then levels off before kicking up viciously all the way to the top. Only a small ease in the gradient before the final 25% section makes it anything other than a fight for survival. John and myself had done this before and we both felt it was as difficult as Honister from Seathwaite. The descent down the Newlands Valley from the top of the Newlands Pass is normally one of the most enjoyable bits of road in the land. Today though it was wet and I was cold and this was the point which I talked about earlier where I honestly thought about the Broom Wagon.

At the end of the Newlands Valley we reached the lovely village of Braithwaite and the climb of Whinlatter starts straight out of the village. Different in character to the previous climbs as it is wooded throughout Whinlatter is a long climb rather than severe but still has some steep sections in it. I really enjoyed this climb as it was the first time for about two hours where I hadn’t felt anything other than freezing cold. Having the lower gear fitted really came into its own on this climb as by spinning it was possible to save the legs for the horrors that were yet to come. As we were greeted by John K at Whinlatter summit it was a turning point for me. I was warmer, though still wet, and the legs felt okay. The weather finally looked to be turning and John K informed me that he had heard a weather forecast and the expected better weather for the afternoon had been confirmed.

I wasn’t the only one feeling this way, again John P takes up the story:

‘I struggled until after Whinlatter. However, after that point I remember I resorted to the most up to date, scientific nutrition available to the competitive cyclist. A pork pie. Strangely enough all went well after that. I know I said I was going to shoot myself in the legs but actually I’d decided just to break my toes instead’.

So we all set off for the long section heading towards the western lakes and the Hardknott/Wrynose ‘challenge’ that lay before us. Only John P and I knew this area, possibly a disadvantage, but also knew that the section to get us there should not be underestimated. Although there is no really big climb there are four testing climbs plus some heavy rolling exposed roads, so thinking too far ahead can be counterproductive.

Easier said than done though isn’t it. Ever since I’d organised this event, well I say organised what I really mean is roughly pulled it together with a few emails and casual conversations, the main thing I’d been thinking about was Hardknott. I’ve stayed at Eskdale Green many times and driven over it and walked over it more times than I can remember. ‘How bad is it?’ Dave asked me a few times. ‘Really bad, imagine Rosedale Chimney but twice the length and a more difficult road surface and you’re about there. You know when you see a road as you approach it and it looks awful and when you actually get there it’s hard but not as hard at it looked? Well when you see Hardknott it is as bad as it looks, worse even’. These sort of conversations obviously scared Dave as about a week before the ride he informed me that there was no way he was going to walk up it and proudly showed my the new members of his family, a shiny healthy set of sprockets, the biggest of which had 32 teeth! Overkill I thought at the time, yet as we made our way towards the next climb of Fangs Brow I couldn’t help but look on with envy as he twiddled along with all his fancy low gears.

Fangs Brow is a sharp little climb, the sort of thing you typically find lurking hidden away on the North York Moors. Not long after this you do the less steep but longer climb of Kelton Fell. Neither are particularly difficult but they all take a little bit out of you. It’s an attritional ride where conserving energy is key, particularly if you want to get up the climbs towards the end of the ride. Saying all this after a café stop at Ennerdale Bridge at 56 miles I hit a definite low point. I wish I could have blamed Mick’s flap jacks but I politely declined one despite the tempting offer as he passed round the open box ‘would you like a flap jack, they’re not very nice’ he said in a very matter of fact way.

In the meantime John P had pressed on preferring not to stop and we arranged to meet him at Boot just before Hardknott. Unlike me John was getting to grips with the latter part of this section:

‘The western leg after Honister to Gosforth seemed to drag but the next section into Eskdale was great. Sunshine, fabulous scenery and although Irton Pike was a bit of a graunch I really enjoyed that part of the ride’.

Straight after Ennerdale Bridge we began the climb over Cold Fell. I knew this road, it is steep to start with and then drags on over the top of the fell for quite some time. It is not really typical of the Lakes in its character, feeling in some respects more like the North York Moors, and it is very exposed. Mick and Dave were going quite strongly at this point and I found myself having to work a little harder than I would have liked to just to stay on the wheel. I felt like this all the way until the Irton Pike climb just before Eskdale Green. This is a tough little climb, probably around 10% to start with before levelling off, in some respects like a miniature Whinlatter. I began to get worried about my prospects for Hardknott judging by how poor I felt.

After the descent and the run through the picturesque village of Eskdale Green we approached the turn off towards Boot and the warning sign for Hardknott and its 30% gradients. We met John K and John P at Boot and looked nervously down the road that would take us towards the crux of the route. Mick and John P set off a little ahead of me and Dave. I then decided to stop for a ‘natural break’ leaving Dave to ride on. This was a situation that neither of us was unhappy with I suspect as climbing this was the one thing on the route that was going to be an individual affair, Man against Hill.

So here we go. I had imagined climbing this hill for many years, imagined riding smoothly up in triumph, imagined struggling manfully against the slope before collapsing heroically at the summit, but also I’d imagined gradually grinding to a halt before falling off in a heap. What was it to be? Well none of these really. I knew that the first bit was super steep but thought it would be a bit easier than it was. Right at the bottom I went straight into my lowest gear and literally thought just one turn at a time. It was by now dry (at least on this side of the pass) so getting out of the saddle was thankfully an option. It really is just a case of grinding up negotiating as best you can the tight bends and the poor surface. I came up alongside John and Mick similarly battling away, although they were disadvantaged by their 26 and 27 biggest sprockets, we mumbled some brief encouragement to one another. Getting to the top of this, just the first section, is harder than anything else on the route, harder than Honister, harder than Newlands and is probably as hard as Rosedale Chimney Bank. I just focused on getting to the top of this while trying to push the top section to the back of my mind, trying… problem is as soon as you finish the bottom section the top section comes into view ‘Oh S***!’

If the first section was harder than I though then thankfully the middle section linking it to the top section is easier than I expected. It still goes up but if you have a small gear you can recover a bit, just take this as easy as you can. I could see Dave up ahead approaching the top section, he looked to be going really easy in his 34×32 gear, I cursed him. What can you say about the top section other than it really is survival. At one point as I approached the first really steep bit Dave was going up a ramp that swings to the left. I could see this side on and the angle looked totally ridiculous, what’s more he was in the saddle whereas before he seemed to be riding mainly out of the saddle. ‘Why?’ I thought. A minute of two later when I got there I could understand why, there was water running down the road. Getting out of the saddle would almost certainly mean wheel slip or ‘Major Traction Problems’ and coming off. This is the steepest section of the climb and was followed by another steep section to the right, it’s as much as you can do to keep moving. Eventually you get to flatter ground, probably around 15%! then providing you aren’t in a state of collapse you know you’ve done it. Dave was wheeling back down a short way from the summit towards John K who was taking photos ‘the top’s just up there’ Dave said pointing to it, if I’d had any breath available I’d have said ‘really is it? I was just about to stop right here thinking I’d done it’ I know he was trying to be helpful but I was knackered you understand. When I joined Dave and John K Dave said ‘10’ this was a reference to the ratings that we’d been doing for the climbs on the North York Moors for the club website. He’d given the Chimney only a 9 and I’d asked him what he’d give a 10 to, well this was the answer, fair enough. John P came up not long afterwards having climbed the second section but having to stop briefly at the top of the first, and then Mick who vowed to return with lower gears and conquer it, knowing Mick’s level of determination I wouldn’t doubt it.

John P neatly describes his ride from Boot onwards:

‘Something strange happened after that (the stop at Boot), a sort of Thomas Voeckler on the top of the Galibier moment. Except I looked like that for about 35 minutes. Sitting down in a cafe at Coniston was a high point and the remainder just sort of happened. However, I thought the road to Troutbeck was as hard as Kirkstone’.

So you’ve got up Hardknott job done? Think again. First you’ve got to get down the other side. In the dry I imagine that this is really difficult, it was still wet when we did it and it really is a brakes full on job for much of it. Being weedy cyclists with little upper body strength (well at least in the case of me and Dave) this along with all the other braking required on the route is a full body workout! Then there is Wrynose, no where near as hard as Hardknott but it nearly did for me. I opted to go up Hardknott as light as possible with only half a bottle of fluid and forgot to top up before setting off again. I’d lost fluid by sweating on the way up as it was now the hottest it had been all day and this coupled with general fatigue meant that I was seeing stars going up Wrynose which in itself is a steep climb and long enough, even from this the easier side, to tip you over. I pressed on the pedals but couldn’t really feel anything, it was weird, and I thought I was going to have to get off. I just kept going and we regrouped at the top. I borrowed a bit of drink off Dave and we headed for Coniston our next meeting point. The descent off Wrynose is another to test your brakes and bike handling and then even the rolling roads to Coniston itself is hard work. Normally this would be the end of the route of course, but for us we still had two climbs and around 25 miles to go. By the time we got to Coniston I was on empty and was quite pleased when the consensus of opinion was that we should stop for Coffee. By this time the sight of John Kelly opening up the boot of the car was the best thing in the world; I was hungry and had been day dreaming for the past hour about the sandwiches stashed away in my bait box.

Nearly there…

Hawkshead Hill just outside Coniston is a really nice ascent, twisting up through a wooded area at a fairly constant gradient of somewhere around 6-8%. Despite topping up my food and fluid I still didn’t have much in the legs while Dave flew up this climb, now all I was thinking of was getting to the bottom of the final climb of Kirkstone.

Before that though there was a nasty little surprise, it went up Holbeck Lane to Troutbeck. This was quite steep in places, perhaps up to 12%, and goes on for quite a while, the gradient varying all the time. Strangely enough I actually started to feel a little better on this climb. Eventually the road drops a little and joins Kirkstone part of the way up. Now it was just a case of going up until you reach the inn at the top. The climb is a strange mixture of short steep ramps of around 10-15% followed by short flatter sections and I just settled for selecting a low gear, finding a rhythm and getting to the top, as did John P and Mick, Dave preferring to let it all out from about a mile out to the summit and quite fittingly I thought, the highest point of the ride. Then it was just a case of the wonderful descent from the mist at the top to the sun in the valley below. We all grouped together for the final run in. 112 miles and 3,800 metres of climbing in around 10 leisurely hours with a ride time of 7.52, job done!

You’ve read my ups and down of the day, but on the whole it was the most enjoyable day on the bike I’ve ever had. Here’s what the others thought:

Mike :

‘It was a great day even if a long one. I must agree with all your scores (see below for the hill ratings). My two walking efforts on Hardknott and Wrynose, these were too steep for me with a lot of miles in the legs, Honister and Newlands were as steep in places I thought I scraped over them cos the legs were a bit fresher then. I had a little bad spot about a mile off the top of Kirkstone Pass where I stopped and had yet another little stroll to get my legs working again, then I was fine and will be out today, Monday, for a couple of hours on the bike. The flap jacks offer was funny because when you’re tired you say the wrong things, “would you like one they’re not very nice “I also think the route is the most scenic one I’ve been round so that must score a 10 and is a must to do . The views on route more than make up for the pain of all the hills and I enjoyed the finish, a big thanks to John for the back up drive thanks again John. I would do it again but this time with a dinner plate on the back, it was great.

John P :

‘Great day. I’m really chuffed I managed it. Many, many thanks to John for the support because I think that made all the difference. Now about thoughts of the day – where do I start? I reckon Honister Pass was the second worst, hard and serious with an evil downhill section as well. Anyway, Sunday, when I managed to pull myself out of bed and remembering the out of body experience on Hardknott I decided to count the number of teeth on the big sprocket. One member of the team (big girl’s blouse) had 32. What did I have? I don’t know whether I should admit to this because it’s really, really stupid of me – there were 26. Anyone reading this ramble – don’t ever make the same mistake.

Dave :

‘Memories of ride. John Kelly’s snoring. My creaking bike rack. Finding the toilet in the dark. Telling u all that Rob Carter doesn’t think we will make it made us determined. Looking like mad men setting off in rain. Cold start, I was concerned about your condition. The miles seemed to clock up quickly, think its cos we weren’t concerned with time. Did Mike say the rain’s definitely stopping this time? Mike’s flap jacks! Mike’s gritty climbing ability. Mike’s bar tape. John’s plodding on strategy. Me and Mike following blindly hoping you and John knew the way. Forearms aching more than legs on descents. Balancing act over handlebars on Hardknott to prevent wheelying. Telling John Kelly that I’d just done brakes on my car myself and that they should be o.k! (John was driving Dave’s car on the route). You seeing stars on Wrynose. Cafe stop at Coniston we’re all going to make it easy now with 22 to go. Views over Windermere and sun set. Difficulties on Kirkstone everyone starting to blow. Fast descent to finish. For some reason Mike didn’t want to sprint. 10hrs 1min. call it 10. We are all chuffed to bits to all make it round as a group, changed and recovery tights on, 12 inch pizza when I get home.

John K :

There was one point in the ride which made a lasting impression on me. It was when I was stopped in the valley between Hardknott and Wrynose. I could see you all climbing up to the top of Wrynose and the road from that distance seemed almost perpendicular, so much so that the feeling was you could start to slide down backwards if you weren’t too careful. That may now sound a bit fanciful but that’s what struck me at the time. Other things also come to mind – the dreadful conditions at the start, the kind of morning where if you’d been at home you wouldn’t have gone out but gone back to bed instead. The water cascading over the road on the Honister Pass. Me trying to warn you and coming to the conclusion that mobiles are a waste of time in the Lakes. Wringing water out of clothes at Buttermere and everyone feeling a bit despondent. The weather beginning to turn for the better at Whinlatter and a corresponding change in mood. John Price scoffing his pork pie at Boot before the big push up Hardknott. I don’t know why but a pork pie at that juncture seemed a bit incongruous, perhaps it’s the staple of the Audax crowd. Dave appearing approaching the top of Hardknott muttering something like “I couldn’t have got up here without the 32 on”. The feeling that the worst was over in the cafe at Coniston. Then the big sting in the tail consisting of Hawkshead Hill, Troutbeck and Kirkstone Pass. Troutbeck especially seemed to go on for ever.

Doing the Ride

Probably the easiest way to do the ride is to enter the Sportive itself, if you can get in that is. Otherwise you can officially enter through the Four Seasons option registering at Coniston, details are on the site http://www.fredwhittonchallenge.org.uk/index.php along with the route, profile and loads of other useful information. Or like us you could start at any point on the route. The route itself is very obvious in some areas but not in others so it does help to carry a map if you don’t know the area.

You’ve read about our choices of gears and how we fared, it really depends how well you climb and how heavy you are but Hardknott is going to be difficult whatever gears you have. Don’t forget bike handling too, we have all been riding bikes for years but we still found coming down Hardknott and Wrynose in the wet extremely difficult. It is the Lakes so prepare for anything and don’t forget your waterproof jacket like I did, it nearly cost me dear. On the whole though I would say that any reasonably fit cyclist could get round as long as you’re not pushing it, we’ve all done century rides before, and much longer in some cases, but pushing the pace on a course like this is flirting with danger. One other advantage we had was John K in the support car, we all agreed this made things a whole lot easier, especially as we didn’t have to carry loads of food and drink from the outset and it’s comforting to know that we had some options if someone got ill/had a crash/had a major mechanical.

Facts and Figures

As we’ve been rating the climbs in our area (see Killer Climbs on the website) Dave and myself thought it might be interesting for us to rate these climbs for anyone who’s thinking of doing the route or the sportive. These are in the order that we did them. Dave always marks hard so take this into account, he reminds me of my teachers at school!

Climb Ratings

Climb	High Point (ft)	Paul’s score	Paul’s comment	Dave’s score	Dave’s comment
Matterdale End	1,125	4	long and steady	2
Honister Pass	1,167	9	Vicious start!	9	Major traction problems
Newlands Pass	1,092	9	vicious end!	7
Whinlatter	1,043	7	Long	5	Alpine style climb
Fangs Brow	721	5	Steep ramps	4
Kelton Fell	837	3	Easiest on route	3
Cold Fell	968	6	Starts steep then drags on, where does it finish?	5
Irton Pike	357	5	Winds up through the woods	3
Hardknott Pass	1,289	10.5!	Bonkers!	10	The hardest hill I’ve ever done in the U.K. as well as strength good bike control also required. I don’t think I would have made it without 34×32 gear ratio. It’s awesome. Even car drivers move out the way and wave at you in respect. Remember my reaction at the top, I just said 10!
Wrynose Pass	1,289	8	It felt like a 10 to me at the time, but I think it was because I was having a minor meltdown!	8	A real difficult final 100m especially after Hardknott
Hawkshead Hill	646	5	Great surface, lovely sweeping bends just wish I’d felt better at this point!	4	A really nice climb with switchbacks, I really enjoyed opening the throttle on that one, always feel good after cafe stop
Holbeck Lane	640	4/5	Watch out for this one!	6
Kirkstone Pass	1,489	7	The Kirkstone Inn will appear eventually, honestly!	7	Is more difficult than it should be with over 100 miles in legs, lots of nasty little ramps. Cracking descent down to the finish though

Paul Christon – October 2011

A couple of months ago at the Evening Series Dave Kirton and myself were throwing around the idea of entering a Cleveland Wheelers team at the relay event at the Stockton Triathlon. Problem was finding a swimmer as Dave opted for the cycle leg and fearing drowning I volunteered for the 10k run. Step forward Neil Mentier and so he became the final piece of The Iron Kirtons – that’s the name you end up with if you put Dave in charge of the entry! However I have to say it’s a name that we’ve all become fond of.

Fast forward to the day of the event itself and I am looking on quite concerned as Dave tries to extract his keys from his car seat. We haven’t set off yet and he’s somehow managed to get them jammed down the back of the seat and I’m worried that he’s going to start dismantling it. If it was anyone else I would be unconcerned but I’m reminded of an incident in the Spring where he locked our bikes to a metal fence while we went for a tea stop in a cafe. After half an hour of trying to find the right combination to free the lock he had to resort to a trip around the retailers of Stokesley in a search for some cable cutters. No such problems today though as he wrestles the keys free and soon we’re on our way.

The event has a great feel to it, decent crowds, a DJ/commentator and tension. Yes tension, I think we’re all a bit anxious that if we ‘muck up’ it won’t be only our own race ruined. We’ve also got our wives there and a collection of friends and family to cheer us on, and a great job they did too, but it all adds to the pressure. The day before Dave had been sending me and Neil a series of texts with short messages such as ‘tomorrow it’s judgement day!’ which seem to have affected him more than us. He was a man on the edge, living on his adrenalin, fearful of a puncture, a transition violation of some sort, of not being able to warm up, all sorts of things in fact. The reality was I had the easiest job. Neil would be up against all the other athletes while they were full of energy, nervous and physical, Dave would have to weave his way through a very twisting, technical bike route and had potential mechanical issues to think about. For Dave it was also his first multi discipline event whereas Neil had done Triathlons before and I had done an awful lot of Duathlon (run/bike/run) events until about three years ago. So all I had to do was run, I didn’t even have to get out of my cycling shoes into my running shoes to do it and I would be up against other athletes who, in the main, had already done a 1,500 metre swim and a 40k bike.

Also there on the day were Cleveland Wheelers John Kettle, Joe Foley, Sandra Main, Tony Main doing a solid job marshalling, while Kay Stokes was winning her age category in the full event, and Kath Blakey was doing likewise in the sprint event. Good performances were also being put in by club members Stefan and Kevin McLoughlin in the sprint, with son narrowly edging out father, while other CW members John McGuigan and Rebecca Kirton were cheering us all on. A great turnout for the club!

Neil was up first up for the team and as he lowered himself into the cold waters of the Tees I didn’t envy the task ahead of him. The tension steadily built and then the hooter went off signalling the start of the race. We cheered him on but to be honest it’s difficult picking out a swimmer when all you can see is their head, which has the same colour cap on as nearly all the other swimmers. The distance that he had to swim seemed huge and made me realise that I will probably never be able to complete a full distance triathlon, especially with an open water swim. He came out of the water bang on the 25 minutes he’d estimated, the Iron Kirtons were on track, but for what? Normally in transition an athlete has many things to contend with, fatigue, falling over, forgetting to put your helmet on, struggling to get your footwear off and on etc. All we had to do was simply exchange the timing band from one athlete’s ankle to the other. Soon Dave was off and carving through the field, as we watched it was clear that he was going quickly but as there were also competitors from the sprint event and lapped athletes intertwined with Dave’s progress and knowing where we were placed wouldn’t become apparent until the second transition.

I was waiting in transition talking to the other runners from the relay teams when Dave came in, inside the top 20 overall and possibly, I thought at the time, second out of the teams. As Dave wheeled his bike up towards our spot for racking the bike where I was waiting something seemed to have happened to him. Out on the circuit somewhere someone had replaced his legs with solid wooden stumps, he was moving about, but didn’t seem to be getting any nearer. ‘Come on!’ I urged, when he got there he groaned that there was no way he could do a run as he’d cramped up ‘you don’t have to I’m doing it’, I said as we hurriedly got the strap onto my ankle. Dave had done a ride of around 63 minutes, a great time on a very twisty track in windy conditions.

The standard of running in triathlons is sometimes scarily quick so I figured that if I maintained our position I would be happy with it and after around 10 minutes of running I’d passed someone but had also been passed by another athlete who seemed to be running around 35-36 minute pace, too quick for me, so I decided not to follow. The athletes on the run were quite spaced out and the route was very intricate so you couldn’t always see the athlete just in front and now it was my turn to get nervous. I took a wrong turn at one point, probably costing us only 5 seconds or so, but I started to worry that I might also cost us a good overall result. It was a relief to complete the first of the two 5K laps and the time was around 19.20 which was also a relief as there were no kilometre markers so pacing was quite tricky (my only criticism of the event at all!). At this point other athletes were entering the circuit for their first laps so I had no idea who was on the same lap as us and who I was lapping. So for the rest of the lap I just concentrated on catching whoever was in front of me and ran as quickly as I thought I could sustain. At one point on the far side of the river from the finish I thought I could hear people shouting ‘Paul!’ and it was only after I’d finished that I found out it was the cheers from my wife Shelly and the rest of our entourage, I couldn’t believe I could hear it that far away. The support at the finish dragged a sprint out of me and I managed a time just inside 38 minutes, a PB over 10K for me.

Our team time was 2.10.58 which was what we thought we could do if we all performed to our maximum so it was really pleasing and when we were told that we had won the Relay event it put the icing on the cake, almost. We knew that we had won when the organiser announced ‘winners of the relay event in 2.10…’ 2.10 we thought, it has to be us. We waited for him to say the team name which we had all grown to know and love – The Iron Kirtons! – instead he rather disappointingly said ‘the team entered by Dave Kirton’. Still we got our photos taken with the Mayor and it had been a great day.

Results from Cleveland Wheelers Taking Part (apologies if I’ve missed anyone)

Sprint Event

12th Stefan McLoughlin – 1.14.46

13th Kevin McLoughlin – 1.14.56

25th Kath Blakey – 1.20.25 (1st female V40)

Standard Event

14th The Iron Kirtons – 2.10.58 (1st in relay cat)

95th Kay Stokes – 2.41.55 (1st female V50)

Paul Christon – August 2011