The Tour de Yorkshire otherwise known as Le Bloody Tour by my partner. L and I are doing the sportive on day three just hours ahead on the professional race. Stage three actually race runs from Wakefield to Leeds but our sportive is Leeds to Leeds. Otherwise they’d have to bus everyone to either the start or the finish. The whole thing is inspired by the Grand Départ of the Tour de France that of course was in Yorkshire last year.
Today we face the same hills and are supported by almost the
same sized crowds, who even come out in numbers for the sportive riders. That’s even more
impressive when you realise that we awoke to heavy rain pounding on the house
roof morning followed by heavy rain pounding the car as we drove up the M1.
I have been allocated a 9:46 start time for the medium
distance 108km route and a plea to be there an hour before, which due to
traffic we fail miserably on. L has a slightly later start time as she is doing
the short distance 55km route or the Cycletta that isn't. The standard short distance 55km
starts at the same time and runs over the same course, so the ‘Cycletta’ can hardly be
described as women only.
Now to decide how far to go with the waterproofs. The
forecast says it’s probably going to rain for most of the day.
I was one of the last to start and the course is a brute,
which may make reaching the cut off time at Ilkey interesting. So full kudos to
the professional who are doing this a lot faster than we are. After about an
hour the rain eases and eventually stops, I wasn’t expecting that. I roll into
the first feed station at Cullingworth having done 49km. The feed is
disappointing, serving just cold potatoes, a few digestives and some sweets
plus sports drink. Good job I have some bars and gels with me as there’s not
much to top up your energy levels there.
A short stop, then off again. The route is nice, jaw droppingly
beautiful and the roads are in decent condition. I know they resurfaced many
for last year’s race. Then there’s the girls in bikinis braving the weather,
stood at the side of the road and waving flags. Then there are the hallucinations
brought on by the cold and the lack of food at the feed station. I hope L’s warmed up on her ride. I
text her, although her phone keeps going flat and is unlikely to last the day. I
get a reply, all seems good.
The terrain, which was tough, suddenly gets tougher. There’s
the cobbled climb near Haworth, which was definitely a highlight and then there
was Goose Eye, which was astonishingly steep.
Then there are the rivers of blood down some of the descents.
That’s not a pretty sight. On one particular stretch we have to ride around four
ambulances and in the end were told to get off and walk. Such steep descents
and wet roads are not a happy combination.
I head through Silsden and Addingham where we watched the
Tour de France from last year. We pass the pub we watched from where once again
a crowd has gathered and they cheer us through.
The second feed station is on the Ilkley Road at 70km and
this is the vital cut off point. If you don’t get here with room to spare before
the pro-race you’re going to have to park up for a while. My group makes it
with 20 minutes to spare. Enough time to tuck in to the trays of mini Yorkshire
pudding filled with sausages and onion gravy. There are also freshly baked flapjacks.
This feed station is as awesome as the first one was awful. L say her feed
station was rubbish too and she didn’t get to go to this one. After about five
of each, I pedal off and head up the Cow and Calf climb.
The final big climb is the Chevin and it was just after this
that my bike decided it had had enough. I’d been experiencing a bit of gear slip
with the bike jumping out of lowest gear last week and I’d adjusted things so
now it was much better but not quite perfect. Occasionally I had to hold it in
gear. I’m not sure if this was a factor of not, when my chain snapped with 11km
to go.
L has already finished in 3:32. I could be a lot longer.
According to the official timings I had crested the Chevin in 4:46, personally
I’d take about 30 minutes off that for my two stops.
I look around for a service bike, they were everywhere
earlier. In the end I dial the emergency rescue number. Please send
Thunderbirds 1 and 2. What do you mean they’re busy? Instead I book a place on
the broom wagon. How embarrassing, although L will be dead jealous.
Unfortunately they tell me that they can’t get to me because
the main race is imminent. They tell me it could be hours, so I watch the
pro-race go through and then start walking. L meanwhile tries to find me but
it’s not easy and she returns to the car park.
I get rescued quicker than expected, although the chap who picks
me then gets lost but we get to the car park eventually. Where L is waiting. It's been an inglorious end but it's still the best event I've ever done.
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