Dunwich Dynamo 2014

Walthamstow

“How are my elbows looking?”

“Good. A little red, but the skin’s intact. What about your knees?”

“Knees? Fine… Good… well the left one is quite bloody actually”

We’d only got as far as Walthamstow. We’d been riding in a group out from London Fields at the start of the Dunwich Dynamo, when I failed to notice everyone had stopped suddenly. I braked swerved and fell off. Yet again my helmet escaped without a scratch. I can’t recommend my giro gloves highly enough as my hands have nary a mark. My skin however needs a total redesign in terms of impact and abrasion resistance. Luckily the nearest shop had run out of first aid equipment so Adam bought some flannels to mop up the blood.

Thankfully the rest of the trip was much more eventful for all the right reasons.

Garage

I’d asked that we stopped at a particular garage on the way out of London. It’s actually in Essex about 20km from the start, but if my leg was playing up it would still be light. I could buy a first aid kit and ride home. I was actually feeling quite up for it at this point and the skin clearly wasn’t going to split on the knee. Inside I opted for a green juice and a samosa. We then went outside to watch a guy negotiate the pumps on a tall bike.

Rain

This year rain featured quite heavily. The rain started gently at first but gradually got to the point where the spray off of the front wheel was washing grit and road sludge into my face on the descents. I’m a fairly cautious descender. Quick in the dry on straight roads, but a little slower in the wet and dark with rain streaked glasses. Dulwich Paragon riders are not quite so cautious and I was startled by the speed that people were able to pass me and disappear with red lights blinking into the night.

At the first pubs we stopped for the loo and David kindly lent me his spare front light. That light combined with removing my glasses meant I could now see the road. I was regularly dropping off of the back by this point, but as David is faster than me and Vera was using his front light to see by I was looking out for the distinctive lighting arrangement we had gone with to catch up with them at junctions.

Pub and a puncture

I pulled into a lovely pub forecourt as arranged to find Vera and David waiting out front. No sign of Adam. I was feeling particularly “Hackney” as I requested a light hoppy ale as the man next to me asked for a couple of pasties and 6 pints of Stella. We were there for over an hour as Adam had punctured and stopped at an earlier pub to wash up a little and grab a cheeky pint.

Lunch and a puncture

The official food stop is just short of Sudbury about 75-80 km in and we stopped for a wee and some food. It’s always slightly surreal to see a bright village hall full of dirty, wet cyclists chatting cheerfully.

As we’d lost a lot of time already we decided to crack on.

As we pulled away I considered shouting to the others. My rear wheel felt sluggish and lumpy. On the first descent things got a bit hairy and I accepted the inevitable. I had punctured. The others were now quite some distance ahead and it was at this point I remembered I hadn’t packed a pump. My frame clip for the pump had broken so I had left it behind.

I flipped the bike, against the rules, and set about changing the tube. I was worried though as I couldn’t find the cause or the hole in the inner tube. At that point I realised the local nightclub at the end of the side road had gone from playing euro house to Bon Jovi. They were nearly done for the night.

I flagged down the next person I saw and asked for a pump. I started to panic as the nightclub was now playing ‘I will always love you’ by Whitney Houston. The 2 lads who stopped to help were really nice to me given that I was a panicky oil covered drowned rat with his bike in bits ranting about Bon Jovi.

I set off hoping for the best and rode as fast as I dared towards our next agreed rendezvous point just North of Sudbury.

Riding alone along unfamiliar roads is a relaxing pastime I normally reserve for the spring and summer months during the day. Night riding alone is another thing entirely. A single blinking light ahead gave me hope and I found a group to tag along behind for a bit. Shortly afterwards a lady from Stoke Newington slowed down for a chat.

Dawn

The rest of the darkness passed without incident  as I fell behind a bit then caught up again. Adam and I rode along for a couple of hours chatting about our respective lives and interests, stopping for a tea along the way.

Finally we reached the lake and caught back up with Vera and David. Loo stop and the last of our food. Ready to go. Adam spots that his bike has a puncture.

It’s cold by the lake as we do some early morning stretches and fix our 3^rd puncture of the day but we’re told there’s only 35 km to go.

40 minutes later we stop for a sausage bap  and are told that there’s only about 35km to go (Deja vu).

The second last 35km passes in a blur of early light and undulating countryside, chats to strangers and turns through sleeping villages. The last few miles are gravel covered and slippy from the rain. And then we’re there.

Dunwich

The end at Dunwich could do with another post all of it’s own but queuing and eating pretty much summarises it. Needless to say when we did get back to London I had another flat. When we checked out the tyre there was a tiny spike inside, that when pulled out with pliers, revealed itself to be a 1” piece of copper wire from the fairy lights that must have tangled in the rear wheel at some point.

Consumables

Juice and a samosa, Falafel and hummus sandwich, Peanut butter and Avocado sandwich (nicked the idea from Rich Roll), 2 stuffed vine leaves, 3 Nak’d bars, Peanuts, Crisps, Salted liquorice (3 or four pieces), Barley Sugar (about 6), Sausage Bap, I pint, 2 teas, 4 litres of water, and a veggie breakfast  on the beach. At no point did I consider eating the gels I brought.

I also got through 2 inner tubes, 4 AA batteries, an oil covered rain jackets and a set of fairy lights.

Dunwich Dynamo 2014

Yesterday at a slow late lunch, I was perusing my emails, when  I can across an unassuming email. from a chap called Bill Owen.

"Hi!

Please forgive this intrusion, however, you at one stage last year booked tickets for our Coach Service after the Dunwich Dynamo last year.

So we thought we would let you know that tickets are now available for 2014."

A quick email around my cycling buddies and I am booked to do it again. At the moment only David is coming too but I'm sure that'll change.

It's a fortnight before the triathlon, so it'll also act as my last big ride before I start to lessen off on the training and get ready to flog myself in and out of the water for a few hours. I know this may seem daft, but an endurance event like the dynamo makes an event like a triathlon seem much more manageable... Albeit a little quicker.

Should be an interesting test for the brytonas the battery life is supposed to be 16 hours on it's powersaving mode

Dun Run Part three

Riding through the dark for hour after hour is a peculiar sensation. At times you start to think that you should be in bed. A little drifting off takes place.

For about half an hour I thought I was silently following Dave, before realising that the pattern of lights was wrong. As I pulled up a little closer I realised that this bike had a set of panniers and not the Super C Audax bag David has been using of late.

Realising he couldn't be behind me I put my foot down and overtook the next twenty or so riders over the next couple of miles. I pulled up alongside him relieved not to have lost the only rider in our group to have completed this ride or knew where we were going.

"Where's Warren?" he said
"I'm right behind you"

Warren had been riding on my wheel when I took off and just thought I fancied going a bit quicker so had tagged along.

The strangest sight of the night could have been awarded to many (Many) things, but I think it has to go to a half hour traffic jam around some roadworks. We queued for ages to cross a makeshift pedestrian bridge over the roadworks only pausing to consider whether it was designed for 50 riders and bikes ata a time afterwards.

From here on in I made sure I could see either David or Warren's lights. They are always a bit quicker than me plus as I have no sense of direction I figured it's for the best.

We stopped at the official food stop to consume further nourishment. This was down a quiet residential road at a community centre. A couple of hundred riders eating quietly in the car park.

Once past the 100km point the night seemed to just rush by...

As the sun came up we hit a bank of fog, which decreased visibility to almost zero. Fog turned to light rain which made grip, baking and visibility (I had no glasses on) considerations.

We stopped by a lake, where locked toilets and the lack of bacon alternatives made us press on for a rumour of a tea stop half an hour further on. An hour later (or maybe half an hour for Froome) we came across a house selling veggie or meat sausages in a bun and tea. I could've wept.

We stopped

By now it was morning and riders coming back the the other way started to become more common. Our estimated finish time was getting progressively later.

People were now out on the streets to cheer us along in their quietest 7 O'clock in the morning voices. The miles ticked by and we finally saw signs to Dunwich about 20 miles further on. I can't say I wasn't relieved.

We tagged along with a guy on a fixie who had lost his friends for a bit before losong him on a hill. The miles flew by in the fog and damp.

We arrived in Dunwich at 09:27 a whole 13:10:57 after we set off . Admittedly we spent a lot more time off of the bikes than  I expected to and there was a wind but that was an extraordinarily large amount of time to take to do the distance.

Warren headed straight back on the bus, whilst David and I partook of breakfast in the peculiar little cafe on the beach. All thoughts of a swim and a change of clothes were out of the window.

Claire and her friends who'd been at Lattitude dropped in for a post-breakfast pint before we got the coach home.

All credit to Southwark Cyclists. There was a lorry space and a coach space for me and I got back to London (having to eat my emergency falafel en-route) without much in the way of a hitch at all.

"Will I do it again?"

Yes I think I will, but for now there was still the ride home

Dun Run part two - Ride report

After a brief rest  I have decided to do a ride report proper:

After packing, panicking and forgetting to fill water I set off a little later than planned. We arrived at the pub in the park and tried to locate each other in the massed throng of riders. Warren was out front and Dave out back whilst I was late. Remarkably as I was expressing surprise that I couldn’t hear Glen he turned up.

 There were a surprising number of riders enjoying a pre-start drink. It would seem that the measure of athletic seriousness at this point was whether you went for a half pint of ale or a full pint of lager.

Riders ranged from (my favourite outfit of the night) a blousy shirt duck taped into short sleeves with tight chinos-to the Dulwich Paragons in full matching club kit.

As we prepared to leave one of our number decided for a quick wee stop before the off, which was easier said than done at this point due to there being a couple of hundred riders blocking access to the loo and the early closure of the park toilets.

Dave knew the route out of London, so we set off in the snaking queue of smiling riders into the early evening sun. Riders following GPS units went one way and veterans the other before joining up again on Lee bridge road. As the evening wore on we found ourselves passing through Epping Forest and the surrounding towns. By now light was getting poor and more and more lights came on. I was shocked to notice that some rider’s lights were flashing so brightly that they left a retinal spot between flashes and I started to wonder what that would feel like at 02:00am.

Our first stop was in a small town opposite a pub as we were 55 km in and properly ready for a sarnie. The volume of music coming from the pub was astounding as we tucked into various cheese/pickle/sausage combo sandwiches. Billy Idol blared out and peaked as an absolutely trashed woman tottered out for a fag. Up until that point I had assumed the pub had a window open, but no.

Riding though the dark was vaguely hypnotic and the light dipped between towns to nothing before rising to the sulphurous pools of yellow street lights in villages. At this point I started to notice the late starters passing us at race pace chatting easily while I was starting to have my first tired moment.

The next stop was at the foot of a hill in a charming pub that would warrant a visit during a less strenuous activity. I settled for a pint of light ale and watched the lights stream down the hill to the shouts of “HOLE!” at the bottom.

Setting off again we could no longer see each other at all and my chain came off climbing away from the pub. I texted Dave only get the response “Me too!”

They were waiting for me at the top and we set off following the pattern of each other’s lights in the dark.

The Dun Run part one

I thought about starting this post without giving away the facts (we finished, we survived etc), but as you know I wouldn't type this en-route, the fact that I am writing it at all is proof of  life etc...

On Saturday night/Sunday morning I rode the Dunwich Dynamo. After all the build up I had thought about doing one classic (and long) ride report.

At this point I'll just say it was an amazing and very long experience. We had our ups and downs and the ride is a tougher test of mental toughness than cycling ability. The route is straightforward. There is plenty of places to stop and refuel, it is not massively hilly. It is however at night when your body wants to be asleep and you can't see because of the blinking red lights on the back of the person in front of you.

There were plenty of beautiful moments too.

We followed an irratating man with a soundsystem on his bike for miles in the dark. Not able to put a face to the noise. At the top of a hill where we took a little rest he pulled in behind us and gasped "Has anyone got any water?" He had fitted the soundsystem, charged the batteries, picked the playlist but forgotten his water. It's that kind of event.

I nearly left without filling my water bottles

Ready for the off part 2

In typical fashion it took about 2 hours to sort out the bike ready for tomorrow. Again in typical fashion, whilst I checked the oversized bidons fitted the cages, they do not fit the frame. I'll take the two Alu ones and a 1 ltr bidon in the saddlebag.

Stuff I've packed

First aid kit
Spare tube
punture repair kit
multitool
Swiss army knife
Banana chips
vegan bars
protein snacks
peanuts
banana chips
coconut water (I'll be carrying 3 ltr of fluid at start)
swimming kit
regular clothes
batteries
iphone charger
headtorch
waterproof jacket

On the bike I have an iPhone mount, Carradice Barley bag, Zefal pump and bidons in Bontrager cages. I also have 2 sets of lights on the bike. My regular ones and a little blinky set as backup. I think that's everything... Just need some fig rolls and tpo make sandwiches...

I think I might have become a rider of a certain age

I got very excited today as my new carradice barley saddlebag arrived. They are the bags you see on old fashioned steel bikes, ridden by men in woollen cycling gear with beards. The men have beards... I'm not sure their bikes or gear can grow them.

I needed something to take a waterproof, lock, lunch and tools with me on day rides. Something other than Sophie's old rucksack from school. Something waterproof. Something stylish.

It also needed to be small enough to not to look like I was off on holiday. The rack and panniers was overkill for anything but a short tour. 

I looked at several brands that produce similar items before narrowing it down to Carradice. They are made in the UK by hand, by one individual from start to finish. Mine is made by Christine, who features in the included catalogue article about whether the names in each bag are actual members of staff.

I'll put it on the bike tomorrow and update from there...

See thru shorts

So we did Richmond Park again this Sunday.

The outlaws were staying this weekend, which meant that Sophie and I were sleeping in the spare room, on an inflatable mattress. The curtains are not really up to much in the spare room, so by the time I left the house at 07:30 I had been up for 3.5 hours. As had the Sun.

I had left my Chamois Cream in the room that Sophie’s Parents were sleeping in, so I knew I’d just have to manage without on this occasion (This probably meant I would not be cycling come Monday). I also couldn’t find my baselayer  in  the pile I had prepared the night  before so I decided on my long sleeved winter top.

As I zipped up my shorts I heard the zip make a noise that could only mean it had failed to retain the level of integrity normally required of sports clothing. Oh well it’s Richmond Park. I can just wear my cycling shorts. I can however, I notice, now see my cock through the fabric. They have worn so thin over the last 2 years of undershort duty that they are now effectively a screen not a barrier visually. This is indoors, without the light on.Not outside in direct sunlight.

Winter ¾ length Knickers it is then.

None of this proved problematic as the wind and rain continued to be as unpredictably summery as ever.

I arrived a few minutes too late to meet Warren and Dan at the start as they were heading off at 08:15. I got there at 08:25. This meant I was one lap behind all morning. Whilst I waited I marvelled at the different levels of preparedness exhibited by our fellow cycling enthusiasts…

A man in a speed suit on a time trial bike.  
 Dozens of carbon road bikes.
South African talking business deals.
 Amateur teams in full matching kit.

Warren, Dan and I fall into the “mountain bike shoes and sensible tyres/fenders on road bikes with relaxed touring clothing” category. We don’t eat energy gels in lycra… We eat cooked breakfast baguettes on a break between laps.

Anyway. Several people, I noticed out on the ride, had the same problem  I had with the shorts. So many people are out there in semi transparent worn out shorts. Maybe evans could do the world a favour and have an amnesty. Money off new kit if you hand in your worn out shorts. One chap actually had briefs on under his shorts. Whilst I agree with Grant Peterson on many things... The wearing of cotton briefs under cycling shorts is a step too far.

Anyway… 90.7 kms and home  in time for a late lunch. At our current pacing we're on for a 10 hour Dun Run. 12 including breaks.

Insidious acquisition syndrome

One of the key problems with any hobby that involves a specific set of equipment is the Internet. I have spent the last couple of nights looking at kit that will help me achieve the rides I have coming up in the next couple of months.

The thing is I actually have almost all of it, or something very similar that will do, but if you listen to the Internet experts what I have will never get the job done.

In fact all of it is fine. I am not Bradley wiggins. I am not about to undertake an epic voyage.

According to randoneering or audax sites my bike is wrong. It won't take big enough tyres. The wheelbase is too short. It is too racy. Actually I have ridden LEJOG on this bike. I have ridden across the Netherlands on it.

I don't have a dedicated GPS unit, but I do have an iPhone in a weather proof case mounted to the bars.

I don't have a hub generator, but I do have a massively bright front light that lasts for 6 hours.

I do need a saddle bag as I don't get on with single panniers, but I don't need a new brooks saddle to hang it from. I can get an adaptor.

All I need to work out is which of the many cycling outfits will I be wearing and which saddle bag will hold enough sandwiches...