Crackpot

A few feeble pictures when I was still thinking about backup proof of passage.

 9

The CrAcKpOt

2014 was about building to PBP after too many years of sofa surfing and pie eating. This year (2016) the Highlands Coasts and Glens looked like a great challenge.

As a new member of Wessex CTC, I came across the Wessex SR series run by Shawn Shaw thinking the rides were beyond me. I avoided them in the PBP qualifiers opting for some less hilly events. The niggling thought that as a Wessex rider I should do the series kept bugging me. Once I’d built up a bit of confidence I ended up doing the series as Perms before PBP. The preparation stood me in good stead.

Now I’m faced with 1200k of scenic, possibly wet and midge infested Scotland and have thought about how to prepare. The SR is under the belt again, this time with the calendar Wessex events, plus an Easter Arrow and Bryan Chapman Memorial. That should be enough, but one more of Shawn’s rides is niggling me.

Having pored over his website last year http://www.wessexsr.talktalk.net/ for information about his rides, I clicked on that jester Crackpot image – top left of the screen. Good grief, 1000k of gnarly west country lanes in the same mould as the SR series. 13000+ metres of climbing. Ridden by some hard core riders some of whom I had met during other events, or knew of by reputation. There were three calendar editions back around the turn of the century but no longer available as a perm or calendar.

Then on the YACF forum an announcement from a fixed wheel hard-rider – “I’m off on the Crackpot…..”. Doing it as a DIY, based on the original route sheets.

Click to access CRACKPOT.pdf

Well done that man. One or two others followed. They are strong riders, this could be a step too far. But possibly as a DIY – no help, no support, but at a pace entirely under my control. I can climb slowly and then plod on relentlessly – normal tactics for me. Maybe I could do it.

Mr Shaw is a strong advocate of planning and route research. I also like planning, numbers and maps as well as GPS, so there was plenty to do while I plucked up courage.

The route sheet from 2000 was downloaded and I spent hours drawing my own gpx track in conjunction with maps, noting the big climbs and the possible refuels. None of Shawn’s great TLC village halls would be available. I did other rides that overlapped or crossed the route and reccied bits of Devon west of Exeter. Advice came from Shawn and other riders. Graham Steward and our region DIY organiser Tony Hull provided a lot of information and support.

There is one overwhelming feature of this ride particularly if trying to do it in BRM average speeds. There is climbing throughout, but apart from the flat first few kms it is heavily front loaded with climbing and remoteness. This makes averaging 15kph to the point where the required speed drops to 13.33 a crucial part of the ride.

In a moment of uncharacteristic humanity Shawn used his discretion to make this point Axminster at 440k. Following controls can be reached at the slower average.

In the original briefing for the calendar events Shawn required the submission of an outline schedule. This made the riders think and help with controls which would be open for a long time. He cautioned against over-ambition so I did my schedule, stage by stage, with notes on the route sheet. I included averages I expected to make and resulting arrival times, inserted rest time, sleeps if possible, and notes about specific landmark climbs and tough sections. A highlighter picked out refuel possibilities on longer stretches.

Far from being ambitious I set several sections at just 16kph, one at 15kph and never aimed at an average of more than 18kph. This seems desperately slow but being a smidgeon ahead of a seriously modest plan is good to my mind – literally.

I finally decided to do the ride roughly half way between the Brimstone 600 and the Scotland ride, allowing some good recovery time between each. A fortnight window was all I could fit between other things and I prepped carefully, paying particular attention to the bike and spares.

These rides are unapologetically scattered with many miles of wonderful scenic lanes including grass strips in the middle and crumbling pot-infested gritty bands of tarmac up the outsides. They crop up day and night. Plan to wear out brake blocks, break spokes, grind rims and transmission to a paste and have “p” fairy visitations. I carried three tubes. patches, spare cover, boots, spokes, zip ties, lube, chain links and more.

The Scotland ride might need a bivvy so, just to make things trickier, I thought I’d trial a setup that would be enough for Scotland. I put together a mat, lightweight bag and bivvy bag with midge net totalling 1.3kg. I don’t go out of my way to do hardship, but it’s an adventure after all.

Timing is interesting. I decided to go for the original start of 8pm giving a finish of 11pm three days later. Ride through night one, get some sleep on nights two and three if possible. I don’t do well on short day naps – I just ride through the dozies to coffee and get actual sleep to shorten the nights. I love night riding but there’s a limit and mid June would give me very short nights anyway.

This start time could be shifted but it works for me – I can ride through a night like a 400 or the first part of a touristes PBP. Just give me some sleep the second night.

This did leave me a refuelling problem. Stage one to Halstock is too soon to be topping up supplies, and there is nothing but the odd pub after Bere Regis anyway. 7 would be reached before anything opened. There follows a long stretch across Exmoor and the edge of Dartmoor to Bovey Tracey. I could have left two hours later and refuelled in Minehead but it has a knock on effect later making the last day very long.

My window arrived with changeable weather in the first week so I resisted the temptation to get on with it. The weekend looked ok, maybe one showery day, followed by more rain the next week. The weekend it was going to be.

Leaving on Saturday meant reaching Minehead and riding across Devon on Sunday. Now there would be absolutely no refuelling chance before Crediton and its convenience stores at over 200k. I packed proper food included two big rounds of sandwiches – ham/cheese/chicken, trail mix, marzipan, flapjacks and  dates. Plus energy sachets, energy gels and caffeine gels. I don’t usually bother with highly marketed and expensive energy, but 1 gel = 1 banana and weighs a lot less. Ditto energy drink sachets. I had trialled the brand before and actually I do use them on the chain gang occasionally, so I knew I could digest them. I took enough sachets and caffeine gels to have a little left for subsequentì nights.

So with gear, spares, much food and bivvy setup, I needed the lightweight rack and rack top bag with drop down mini-panniers which I prefer to a saddle bag. Heavy stuff.

Weather forecast deteriorating. Radar shows a slow moving band of light rain coming in from the west followed by more showers, possibly the odd heavy one. On the plus side it’s warmish and light winds to start with. Gotta go. Worse next week. Last chance. Showers no big problem.

Waved a virtual goodbye on YACF putting a bit of peer pressure on myself – I have to do it now. The support net swung into action online. My long suffering J will relay any updates both ways by text so I can turn off data and save phone.

It’s time for a really good feed and hop on the train for the legendary (to Wessex perm riders) Longfleet BP Garage in Poole. Slurp double shot coffee and another hot snack from the garage and away we go.

Stage 1 Poole – Halstock

The first 25k or so are flattish main road and this is so rare it has to be used to get a little buffer before the real ride starts. At 30k, halfway to Control 1 at Halstock, I am on 24kph average. This may not seem much but it takes a while for that bonus to be cut back. Good for morale. The next section is a reverse of the finale of the Hardboiled 300. Yes it’s hilly, but I found the beasts easier from this direction. Stopped for 5 mins at Halstock. Backup photo and sandwich. Then snacking on the run.

Stage 2 Halstock – Minehead

Immediately out of Halstock comes one of the gnarliest lane climbs on the route. Narrow, with deep wide crud in the middle, crumbling narrow sides, holes, arching long nettles both sides. Ahh, Wessex.

Once this, and it’s immediate aftermath, are overcome the route gets easier and more open. It just rolls on steadily then a drag starts rising to Curry Mallet. There has been a good sunset but now the promised weather is sliding across me from the west like a blanket leaving a slit of clear sky way behind as it starts spitting with rain.

The dreaded slight bump from the back wheel tells me I have a slow puncture. I manage to haul it to the top of the drag with weight forward. Onto the verge, head torch on. This is a really slow one, so rather than faff looking for a micro-flint in the dark and worrying about a repeat, I just swap tube and cover, checking the rim tape, and warm myself up banging the tyre up hard again. That tube should be repairable with a glueless patch if I get another flat.

The rain is really light and it’s warm so I leave the jacket off. Over the next couple of hours it continues as light mizzle and occasional short showers. It’ll be OK until the heights of the moors. In fact there is water of some sort falling continuously out of the sky for the next 38 hours. It sounds horrendous but a lot of it was very light, punctuated by a few deluges. The road rolls on along the laney foothills on the west of the Quantocks, with the run in to Minehead on the virtually deserted A358

I stopped a while at Minehead – searched for water – toilets on the prom – ugh. Photo with Butlins behind. Sandwich, dates, trail mix, then gel and snacks on the run.

Stage 3 Minehead – Bovey Tracey

Climbed steeply away from the prom then a bit of main road towards Porlock and left for Luccombe and Dunkery Beacon. I had built this, the highest climb, up in my mind but it turned out to be really enjoyable. There was a sea fret gently wetting me and the coast close behind soon disappeared into the murk.

After the first pitch the route descends right into a combe, ignoring the sign (left) to Dunkery, then it climbs it’s way out again along a high valley side. I’m reminded of home as an Exmoor mare and foal skitter about like our native New Foresters but a bit stockier. A little false flat and a last pitch to a shoulder where the road skirts the summit before a quick photo and a howling freezing wet descent into Exton. One down.

I read that there are 14 good climbs across to Bovey Tracey on this stage and I’m sure there are but I think of it as three sections. There are five or so real big-uns in the first third including Dunkery. This is serious granny gear hauling followed by hand-aching descending to lovely if wet valley hamlets. I didn’t get the views but I could feel the majesty through the atmospheric low cloud around me.

Then there’s the middle section. Seriously rolling but less wearing on the back and knees, and hills not so long as to burn themselves into the memory – not too bad. The difficulty steps back up around Cheriton Fitzpaine then Crediton arrives but I still have food aboard so I press on to Bovey worried to keep the average speed up to the control town. That third section is typical Wessex but in a different colourway. I’ll call it the “Red Zone” with its bright red soil and sandstone, and red streams now field washing across the narrow steep hedgerowed lanes. These lovelies are split by a few kms of flat valley road before the big climb and drop into Bovey itself.

Coffee from Spar, chocolate milk, breakfast pastie, water, and top up the depleted food compartment. Sit in a porch across the road. The next short section has the most climbing per kilometre of the route but the first are drags and I won’t be so hot going up. I peel off the wet arm warmers and wind cheating gilet and out comes the waterproof jacket proper. I love this piece of Gore kit. Some pricey things leave you disappointed but not this. I’m pretty damp under it but it stops every drip going down my neck for the next 30 hours and I easily access pockets through the side vents.

Stage 4 Bovey Tracey – Culmstock

On over the range that precedes the descent to Exeter. Skirting round to the west of the city through the traffic and spray is a change to the splendid isolation of the ride so far. Then back into the country and rolling hills before the next landmark climbs preceding Bradninch. More town, briefly crossing the M5 at Cullompton and back into lanes for the run to Culmstock and a moments pause. Although the most severe in terms of metres climbed per kilometre, the longer steadier climbs sometimes give descending payback. This stage was not as hard as the moors.

The chain has been in the washing machine for some hours and is feeling it. I have a little lube bottle with maybe three chain shots in it. It’s just not going to be enough so I get a bottle of 3 in 1 from a garage, give the whole transmission a soaking, and resign myself to a deep clean when I get home. I soak it twice more before someone switches the tap off.

Stage 5 Culmstock – Sedgemoor

Now the the route rolls at first then the next stages are relief from the really grippy stuff. There is one landmark climb and some aftershocks through Cothelstone and the Quantocks. Then descend towards Bridgewater and flat roads across the levels.

Now we are in proper rain and some breeze, fortunately from the west. The use of the word “we” is significant. I’ve been chatting in whispered mumbles to myself for many hours now along the lines of “just get over this bloody thing then we should get back to speed ….”

I keep getting the feeling there are two of us on this ride, me and myself. Scudding across the levels with roads awash I lose concentration and stupidly crash a submerged pothole. Although I never saw it at all, I felt I couldn’t have flicked round the hole at the last second anyway as I’d have brought the other guy (also me) riding alongside off. Hmm.. and it’s only the middle of the day.

The result is an instant deflation of the rear – The extra load hammered the tyre down. Now I’m worried about the wheel and the spare cover. The tube is trash, with the valve punched almost out of it where it hit. Luckily the location is obvious and the cover is OK. A spin of the wheel looks ok and rim inspection around the hit shows no damage. A tube goes in. Now I have one spare and one repairable, plus patches. The roads are wet so this becomes a concern. Thoughts of repairing as a precaution in the dry at Sedgemoor are later forgotten.

Sedgemoor services means a sit down for hot grub, drinks and full personal servicing. Luckily I had marked which tiny pot of white stuff is for what purpose. There are a few motorway services on this DIY. Nobody loves the places but they are great in these circumstances. Shawn used a couple, but favoured people’s homes for the calendar rides.

J has managed to upload some of my text updates which must have been queuing in a server somewhere in Devon. I get some virtual shoves in the back from the watchers. It feels so vain (a bit like writing about it) but it really helps raise morale and get you there.

Stage 6 Sedgemoor – Axminster

I had a plan to stop for a sleep after Axminster as Shawn used his discretion to drop the required speed to 13.33 at that point, giving away “free” hours. A fast and relatively easy route to start with with some main road rollers in the finale. The rain was light now. I was pretty much at a standstill on reaching the town after 11pm, but didn’t want to start the next day having to climb the tough Sector Lane on leaving, so I ground on up that. I was desperate to stop at this point and grovelled along the easy section that followed to one of my street-viewed bus shelters in Hewish near Crewkerne. Just a hamlet a quarter of a mile off course.

I had a load of top-up provisions from Sedgemoor (it’s still Sunday) and that fed me supper and first breakfast in Hewish. I set up the bivvy and lay back on the rotting bench. A glance upward revealed – no roof, just foliage covered rafters. I just went to sleep fully dressed and got dripped on through the covering ivy, not that I noticed. It was shivery and damp, especially in the morning, but it was sleep.

Stage 7 Axminster-Wells

Onwards at 4-ish in very light drizzle towards Wells then the heavens opened fully again. Thanks goodness that didn’t happen overnight. Fairly easy to Wells but a bit concerned about the dozies. I don’t normally get them for so long. Things perked up but it took a couple of hours of singing to myself – Motown Chartbusters and road songs. Strains of “Born to be Wild” amuse a pedestrian. Clearly a Steppenwolf fan. Had to wait 10 mins for Costa to open at 0700. For info there was a chuck wagon on the way into Wells on the left of the route – open at 0645 when I passed but in the open and it was still raining. Ate the farm in Costa including porridge, honey, bacon and cheese toastie and cake. Two triple shot coffees. I’ll be like an over-wound toy.

More supportive messages have been relayed including ACH’s now double Crackpotter “Jonah”, several fellow Wessex SR’s and the concise Ian Hennesey (three time Crackpotter) in response to the weather. “eat loads – plod on” says Ian. As it happens it’s the only way I know.

Stage 8 Wells – Michaelwood Services

Now it’s on up the Old Bristol Road to top the Mendips near Priddy, that wonderful sleep control on the Brimstone. I’m wishing I had those guys to ride with now. On the climb ripples of water are coming down the road towards me giving the impression I’m moving faster than the actual crawling pace. Off the Mendips is a fabulous rolling laney route even when moist. Michaelwood Services come after a stretch that I thought would be flatter after the Keynsham “Gap” between Bath and Bristol. Another full refuel and service at Michaelwood. I arrive in light rain but a YACF update from Tony Hull tells me the radar shows it fading. I emerge and there’s a rainbow. Angels are probably singing but are drowned out by the roar of M5 traffic. No more rain.

Stage 9 Michaelwood to Zeals

On the way down to Zeals the main route landmark is Batheaston and I expect really grippy climbing on the approach but I seemed to creep up on it. However, the back lane in from Marshfield was about as Shawny as anything I’ve done. Every kind of crud and hole – listening to the rims and blocks being pureed on the way down. Thirty foot stretch of deep muddy water in the dip. No way round. Scrabbling up the other side with the front wheel hopping up and no grip. I have been on easier MTB single tracks. I cursed and laughed out loud simultaneously. Then the lovely Bath-like architecture tells you where you are after St Catherine’s, the joy.

I hit Bradford on Avon and Frome in school run/rush hour which made it slow and unpleasant. Lovely towns when quiet. In Bradford I stopped at a bike shop. Three tubes and three caffeine gels please. Chuck away the punctured one.

There is a longish stretch of rolling B road now which makes progress steady if with a little traffic. The climb of the section is to Maiden Bradley atop a ridge then a fast section to Zeals where a home was an original control. There is nothing in Zeals now but just past it in Bourton there is a garage on the left. (Zeals Post Office is now the reception for car sales.) The garage is not 24 hr but this was early evening. A chip van is setting up on the forecourt but I can’t wait. I downed a good number of calories including an ice cream, while sat on a sunny wall. I stocked up again for supper and first breakfast due to lack of future opportunity. All through I was snacking en route as well.

Stage 10 Zeals to West Stafford

This is a moderate section through the lanes of the Blackmoor Vale, for me a pleasant fairly relaxing ride in familiar territory. To this was added the relief of better weather as I slowly steamed myself dry, excepting the feet. The laundry was streaming behind me jammed round the elastics on the rack bag. The watershed to Piddletrenthide over into the Piddle valley has to be climbed, but really it’s a long drag.

The valley itself provides a joyous gentle descent towards Dorchester cutting through lanes to West Stafford arriving at 9.30pm. On the way there I’m calculating and still chatting to myself as ever and start to get a bit concerned that tomorrow is 280k to the 11pm finish. There is a good deal more uppishness to come and I’m knackered. This bit should have been euphoric now I look back on it, but I began to doubt.

I did think when planning that I’d be later and sleep just after this somewhere. There is a village bus shelter/info point but it’s right in the open facing the pub. Good church porch – again a little visible and as Pete Loakes (Dorset Coast organiser and former Crackpot Control host) lives right there I’d be reluctant to queer the Audax pitch in that village. A Coke and use the pub facilities then onwards.

Stage 11 West Stafford to Codford

I thought up a plan to get another 30k done putting me 50k from Codford where the transport café to the west opens at 0600. I could do that 50k in about 3 hours (it has some good climbs) for opening time. So sleep from around midnight to 0300. This would also put Bulbarrow behind me. From the south side this is a long, long drag to a high vantage point with transmitter masts. This would take one of the three biggies out of the next stage.

Setting off from West Stafford, though not dozing, some weird creatures and strangely moving plant life began to appear in the the hedgerows and fields. Not particularly frightening, but I kept stopping to see if they were something to do with movement. I think it’s a sort of hallucination when a very tired brain tries to fit a vague image to something in the memory. Curious and fascinating.

A lot of villages have shelters/info points but they are so well maintained and prominent they are tricky. A few are painted white making the inside quite easy to see. I kept an eye open for a place from Ansty onwards but with the bivvy and now with good weather I would have just found some discrete short grass somewhere. At about midnight I came to a closed bridge at Shillingstone. I diverted a few kms round the main road.

Just through Durweston and before crossing the river to Stourpaine I found a bus shelter on the right. It’s opposite the pub and a house – all lights out at about 0015 – very quiet. It had an illuminated info kiosk next to it which shed just enough light to pitch camp with no torch. There is just enough return on the front wall to get a bivvy out of sight on one side and the bike on the other, at least from passing cars. Not ideal and I’m reluctant to make any recommendation as judgement is clouded by the imperative to sleep. These were my first bivvy efforts. I like comfort but it did help me make the best of how I felt and the time, with flexibility. Scotland will be wilder but less stressful as wild camping is allowed in certain conditions.

In the end I didn’t get my head down until 1230 so I set the alarm for 0315 but overslept in my cozy cocoon and left at 0411, over an hour later than hoped and in a flap. I made up a bit of time despite the return of the big climbs from Iwerne and Dinton. It was a beautiful dawn and route, with the two climbs split by the gorgeous Nadder Valley. I was welling up with the beauty of our England as I passed down the valley, wondering if my dinghy sailing mate Pete was weed cutting in the river somewhere. He’s the river keeper. I reached Codford at about 7. The fastest service of a full English in the land and a mug of tea. Half an hour for a good feed and more clean-up.

Stage 12 Codford – Membury Services

Conditions were now perfect, fair with a little cloud and a tailwind building. I know most of the last two stages, and if I have a modest safety buffer by Membury I will make it unless the bike breaks, so that is the priority. A headwind near the end won’t matter. The going here is like PBP – Salisbury plain, long hills but not too steep and fast descents. I thought I would stop both before and after the services rather than linger there, as I was getting sick of the places so coffee/cake were taken in Marlborough. There’s a biggish climb after Ogbourne St. George with “shut up legs” sprayed on the road. Q11Another laugh out loud moment. Membury is on a plateau after more climbs. A kick up the backside message from Jonah told me the last stages were faster and to “go man go!”. I bounced Membury and headed homeward on the last two southward stages of this long crazy zig-zag route.

Stage 13 Membury – Ower

I know for certain now that the last two sections give you time back. At least an hour, probably two. Membury to Ower there are two good climbs one after the other. Ham Hill (The second Ham on the route) out of Ham village, soon followed by the climb up to Chute Causeway. Other than that it’s fast. It should have been hammer down from here but the relief of not needing to calculate and monitor, or maybe just exhaustion, made me feel as if I was just going through the motions. Probably the lowest point when it should have been the highest.

I stopped for another coffee at Abbots Ann post office – nostalgia – this is the first control on the Hellfire Perm so it seemed appropriate. So much nicer than Membury. Sitting outside the post office, yet another “How far” had resulted in absolutely no surprise and a chat about the lady’s husband planning to do LEL. Her friend stopped and complemented me on my figure. Or it could have been a hallucination. Perhaps my alter ego was in better shape than me. Those conversations reminded me that I was actually both an object of desire (!) and not a bad cyclist. More importantly I was part of something that needed audacity and determination. I snapped out of it and got my sorry ass back into the mission. No more mucking about… GO.

There is a long slightly downhill section after Chute then you pop over into, and down, the lovely Test valley. Then it’s a bit boring and rolly on the approach to Ower which is on a hellish roundabout but was essential to Shawn as it’s 24 hour. The bit was between the teeth now.

Stage 14 Ower -Poole

The earlier top-ups also allowed me to just ride past Ower. Living in Brockenhurst I know every shop and cafe from here to the end . A few miles of horrible main road and a motorway roundabout made necessary for Ower, then relief as onwards into the New Forest after the Cadnam roundabout and up the last serious climb – a long forest drag up onto the plain and into the headwind but who cares. I pass 10k from home with about 50k to go.  Steady rollers – B roads, some bits of nice lane, and a rolling main road from Cranborne to Wimborne Minster.

On this stretch I hear the rumble of carbon then skin-suited Bournemouth Jubilees with pinned-on numbers start flying past. I find myself with my forearms inexplicably down on the bar tops.  I arrive at the marshall signalling their left turn. I think I detect a nod of appreciation for my style as I spin past. Or it could be my figure again.

Through Wimborne, the meet for so many club runs, and on into Poole. A valedictory hammer through traffic that I have imagined for a heck of a long time. That penultimate route instruction, “At Shah of Persia R onto A348” and the BP sign hoves into view.

Two and a half hours in hand.

I ride down Shaftesbury Road past Shawn’s house hoping he’s not looking out of the window. That’s the original start and finish and the place where I was rewarded for my Wessex SR in perms last summer with a much prized badge and a highly valued slice of Christmas cake.

These Wessex rides. Further words fail me.