Chase the Sun 2019

I might be a mountain biker at heart, but I just enjoy riding bikes, and as people who know me will confirm, I also really like a challenge. So there was only ever going to be one conclusion when last year a friend of mine mentioned “Chase the Sun”.

On Saturday in a stuffy Maidstone Travel Lodge room I was woken at 3am by my alarm. Chris had enlisted another friend, Nigel and the three of us lined up with 750 other starters at sunrise on the sea front in Minster on the Isle of Sheppey. We would be attempting to ride 205 miles, coast to coast across the country to Burnham-on-sea in Somerset before the sun set in 16hrs and 38 minutes time. The day of the ride is selected as the Saturday closest to the summer solstice in order to maximize the daylight available.

On my side there hadn’t been a lot of specific training beyond what I normally do. For the previous 2 months I’d increased the length of my usual Sunday mountain bike rides. Pushing the time in the saddle out to 5 or 6 hours on a couple of occasions. Meanwhile I’d been checking Nigel’s Strava and he had twice clocked up 200 miles in training and Chris had accompanied him to mile 140. So although I was feeling fit I was definitely concerned how this would transfer to the road. I’d settled my nerves considerably after a 6 hour 100 miler on the road bike with Nigel 3 weeks before the event. That day I’d finished strongly which boosted my confidence ahead of the big day.  

As we rolled out of Minster, the rising sun peeping above the sea over our shoulders, we remembered we’d forgotten to text the start code to the organisers! Chase the Sun is a free event to enter with minimal support. However, you do need to check in at the start, end and half way to ‘officially’ be classified. Once we’d slipped our phones back into our jersey pockets we were the very last riders to leave town and head out into the Kent countryside. This provided us with spectacular views of the entire peloton snaking through the morning mist.

750 riders is a big group, luckily the early start means that the roads are pretty quiet so there is minimal traffic disruption. It’s strange because you forget how early it is. Everything otherwise feels like a standard weekend ride and as you ride through a village or town you wonder why is it so deserted before remembering its still not 6 o’clock!

After winding through the orchards and crop fields of Kent for a couple of hours we began to approach London. Although the peloton had spread out there were still fairly large groups of riders at this stage, which got constantly dissected and then swelled in number by the traffic lights. Luckily the Saturday morning traffic was fairly light as riders swarmed around the black cabs and red busses.  The key really during this phase was not to waste any energy. There is really no pointing charging off hard to follow a group only to then grind to a halt at the next set of lights half a mile down the road. You have to accept the staccato nature of the ride and just keep rolling. Occasionally faster riders came surging past and we’d catch their wheels, taking a high speed tow. Eventually the traffic lights would split us up, but then another group would form. As I chased one particular crowd of fast moving riders I heard Chris call me back. He was right. It might have been fun, but what was the use of racing through mile 40 at 22mph and then crawling over the line at the end.

Surprisingly given the reputation of riding in London I never felt worried during this phase of the event. Undoubtedly there is some safety in numbers and you did need to concentrate, but the drivers were all very courteous. Rather than be annoyed several, including a bus driver, paused to wind down a window and ask us about the event. Although the stop / start nature meant the average speed undoubtedly dropped I felt the miles in the city ticked off quickly as there were so many distractions and other things to concentrate on. Luckily navigation wasn’t often one of these as there was almost without fail a group of riders ahead to follow.

We had our first planned stop at Bromley. Chris’ Dad had very kindly volunteered to be our support driver. The plan was he would meet us at predefined points on route approximately every 3 hours to allow us to have a break, take on some food and swap clothing etc. So it was that in a quiet street in Bromley three lycra clad cyclists could be seen sitting around a stove heating coffee and cooking up bacon butties! Certainly a strange sight for those Londoners up early enough to witness the scene.

Before we left London we joined the weekend cyclists lapping Richmond Park, then crossed the Thames and were soon back out into the rolling Surrey countryside. Although the average speed picked up I felt these miles really dragged. Miles 40 through to 50 seemed to take an age. I began to feel slightly uncomfortable in the saddle and was shifting around restlessly. I never thought I’d look forward to getting to Basingstoke so much! Actually our next stop was the mid-point was in Bramley just north of the city.

One of the ride highlights for me - pulling on a fresh pair of shorts with cool chammy cream! Ahhhh!  We basked in the sunshine and devoured our lunches. This is where our pre-event planning meeting reaped it rewards. We each knew when we were stopping and what the expectations were. So I simply lifted my food box out of the car, took the food I had planned for that stop, refilled my bottles and stashed a new banana and fig rolls into my pockets. 25 minutes a stop was perfect to not feel too rushed, but also allow a bit of down time.

In any ride of this length you’re bound to hit a bad patch at some point. After the pause for lunch my body really struggled to fire up again. I rode at the back of the group with wooden legs while the others spun away in front. We passed through picture postcard villages, but the miles were again dragging. Then there was a hill and strangely putting in that extra effort brought me back to life! Perhaps with lunch having also now recharged my batteries I was now feeling like a million dollars! At the next climb I had to reign myself back, as I just wanted to leap out of the saddle, but knew it was important to save this energy for later.

From then on the entire afternoon was glorious. We found ourselves largely on our own, flowing along peaceful lanes with the sun on our backs and even a hint of an tail wind. We worked perfectly as a group each taking turns pulling on the front while the others took a tow. It felt like we were counting down the miles now rather than up! The section through Wiltshire into Somerset would have been torture in a head wind. Open exposed rolling hills however were great with a breeze to our backs, how lucky we were!

We came to the next rendezvous with Chris’ Dad a bit earlier than we had expected which came as a nice surprise and allowed me to plug in my power pack just in time to keep my Garmin running. It is amazing how breaking the ride down makes it so much better. 50 miles to go sounds so much more manageable when you say to yourself it’s 25 to the van for the next stop and then ‘only’ 25 to the end after that.

The route on the whole is pretty flat, but the punchiest hills come as you approach the west country. Some of these briefly split us up, but once back on the flat we almost immediately regrouped and were pulling together again. The drop down Cheddar gorge was a truly memorable experience. We stopped for a photo before dropping down the sweeping road like stones, grinning like Cheshire cats at the bottom, high on Adrenalin. The end was now in sight and we put the pedal to the metal, buzzing on a high excitement and racing towards the finish at over 20mph! We were flying past other riders who seemed to be barely dragging themselves towards the finish in comparison.

With 200 miles in the bank and with only 4 miles to go we found ourselves on a wide, straight and beautifully surfaced road. Lying prone across the central white line was a rider. An ambulance was called and later we heard a broken collar bone and shoulder was diagnosed. It just goes to show that you should never take anything for granted. It put a bit of a dampener on our roll into Burnham as we put on our “sensible heads” and eased things back a notch. Still there were massive grins on our faces as we rolled side by side along the seafront to the applause and cheers of the crowd lining the street

Ride time 15hrs 45min – we had time to sit with our fish and chips and watch the sun set over the sea!

The whole team!

So how do I rate Chase the Sun to other epic rides I have completed? For most of my big MTB challenges I usually race solo. One of the standout features of Chase the Sun was sharing the experience as part of a team. That includes the build up in the weeks before, the nervous journey up to Maidstone and ‘last supper’ of pizza. The three of us rode together for the entire day, never more than a few meters apart, looking out for each other, taking turns on the front as well as offering support and distraction! Of course we were actually a team of four, the three cyclists relying on our support driver Steve. The breaks psychologically split up the ride into manageable chunks, and seeing the van with its fresh supplies at each stop and collapsing into the fold out chairs was such a highlight. I can’t imagine doing that ride on my own.

2019 - The Last Gorrick 100

This weekends race couldn’t have been further removed from the non-stop shoulder to shoulder battle at last months Southern XC. Once we’d spread out I didn’t even see  another rider for over an hour! In fact after the initial skirmishes I only passed 4 other riders in my category during 5 hours of racing! In part this is due to the longer 9 mile per lap format of the Gorrick 100 and a smaller entry than previous years, which meant there was plenty of room to spread out.

Riding on your own makes for a very different type of challenge. Effectively I was racing myself, pacing my effort to complete the 7 laps as quickly as possible. With age comes experience, I’ve raced enough marathon races now to know to reign myself in at the start. To use an analogy I read in Geraint Thomas’ description of the Tour De France : Don’t waste all your bullets at the start, it’s a long race.

From the gun the race split in two, a lead group of around 18/20 riders broke away while I was towards the front of a chasing pack. I could have broken clear and chased after those ahead, but I bided my time and sat in. Eventually I did find myself leading the group and as the first lap progressed I eased clear and so began my lonely existence.

I flowed through the singletrack, and tried to carry my momentum over obstacles and up inclines. Minimising my energy expenditure, not stamping on the pedals or pushing the heart rate too high. Effectively riding within myself, which actually takes a lot of concentration. It’s all too easy for the mind to wander and suddenly you discover you’re going too slowly.

I didn’t think about the time or distance, just concentrated on how my body felt, riding to feel. I ate and drank regularly when the course allowed. Into the 3^rd hour I finally had some company as the 5 lap leaders slowly caught me. I took advantage of a bit of slipstream and followed a wheel as they came through. This increased my pace, but I was wasting bullets keeping up and I made the conscious decision to let the wheel go and ease back into my comfort zone.

 As I approached the end of my 3^rd lap I could see riders beginning to mass for the start of the 3 lap race. I really didn’t want to have to work my way through the sea of riders so now I did push on, hurrying to clear the start line just before they flooded the course behind me! Soon the first 5 or 6 came past, but then I held my own, it was great to finally have some company after several lonely laps and I really enjoyed being part of a fast moving train! It was good for the morale to see them glance across and clock my 7 lapper number board as we whizzed along. A couple even commented on my pace as I headed a group which was catching those ahead!  This was confirmation that my pace was holding up. The interaction was a nice distraction and despite the speed I was still feeling comfortable.

It was around now I saw the first 7 lap racer for several hours. He was hunting in the dust for a jockey wheel from a busted rear mech. A reminder that it’s not just about having the legs, I needed to protect the bike too if I was to get safely to the finishing line.

On lap four my confidence was beginning to build. Over half distance I was still feeling strong and riding well. I pulled clear of the 3 lappers then caught and passed another 7 lap rider - one of those who had sprinted off ahead at the start and was now paying the price. I could tell now that I had the energy to make the finish and felt able to push a little bit more on the hills. Although you feel strong and the perceived effort is increased fatigue is actually setting in. This meant my laps times stayed very consistent. 45min 57sec / 44min 50sec / 45min 6sec / 46min 23 sec.

As the laps passed I started to learn the twists and turns of the singletrack and it became easier to flow around the course and preserve precious energy. Simple things like knowing if the course tightened around the blind bend or where you needed momentum to get through a patch of roots etc.

I always like the penultimate lap! I rode every section thinking to myself, I’ve only got to do this once more! I busied myself consuming all the food and water I had left in my pockets while my body could still make proper use of the nutrients before the finish. I’d been munching fig rolls and bananas all race, but now also popped in a gel for that added boost of energy!

Topped up I rode straight through the feed zone into the final lap and onto the back wheel of a 7 lap rider from Blazing Saddles. I decided to attack straight away while I was feeling good, but he came with me as I squirted the bike up the first climb. I was riding as fast as I could now, but he was hot on my heels. What did I do? Another hour like this was going to be a hellish world of pain. I was feeling confident I would win a sprint up the final hill at the end of the lap, but that was a long way up the trail and I wanted to remove any doubt well before then.

There was another grassy hill a minute or so further up the trail so I sat up and cruised trying to recover a little. Unable to pass on the narrow path the rider behind was tucked tightly up behind my rear wheel. I rolled along trying to shake the lactic from my legs, he knew what was coming!

The path widened as we hit the bottom of the slope and I dug deep. Probably riding it faster than I had any of the previous 6 laps! Not once did I look back I just relied on the sounds behind to tell me that although the gap may have briefly opened I hadn’t dropped him and by the top he was tight on my wheel once again. Round the corner the course kicked up and I surged once more. As we turned at the top I could see in my peripheral vision that I had a bikes length advantage, maybe two, but nothing more. The elastic was stretching, now I had to keep up the pressure and press home my advantage. So I kept the hammer down as we dropped through some sweeping corners and began to climb slowly once again. We passed some spectators, but I was in a tunnel of pain their calls of encouragement just washed over me. I was all in and the gap was growing.

My mind was spinning as fast as my legs. How deep should I go? Was this the correct plan? Could I keep this pace until the end of the lap? What would I do if he closed up again. It was almost with dread that I then spotted another 7 lap rider ahead! After all that time on my own, now with only minutes of riding remaining I had a real race on my hands! Through the singletrack I closed and closed on the man ahead, with my pursuer still in touch behind. I began to picture a three way sprint. Was this one going down to the final climb?

I made the catch and pulled alongside as the course briefly opened up. He looked across and I knew immediately from the hollow despairing eyes he had nothing left with which to fight. I simply rode straight past, he didn’t attempt to even briefly follow my wheel.

Onto the final climb I knew I had a gap behind, but I attacked it hard and approaching the top finally afforded myself a glance over the shoulder. Nobody was in sight!! The adrenalin was still pumping so I concentrated hard to ensure I didn’t make a mistake and overcook any of the remaining corners as the rain began to fall, adding a sheen to the well worn trails and roots. Totally spent I rolled across the line in 16^th.

I was really pleased with my performance. The race plan was executed perfectly and when I finished I didn’t feel I could have done anything better. Holding back early on allowed me to finish strongly and gain those extra positions on the last lap. It’s twelve years since my first Gorrick 100 and experience definitely helps! It is such a shame that Gorrick are advertising this as the final year for the event. I have many memories from this fantastic race, so if it is to be the last I’m pleased I put in a strong performance