We set out and maintained steady speed, moving from group to group but mainly breaking our own wind. It wasn’t until the first major climb that we found a group going at a similar pace. Amongst the crowd was a fellow Ironman Nice competitor. Some shared storied passed the time and the climb quickly.

I knew most of the route from my previous entry and for the bulk of the ride had one of those rare times where you just zone out. Up until the final climb I rode with Mark and Loz but feeling like I had a set of second legs opted to push to the finish alone. I ramped up the speed off a hairpin and finished the last big climb in top cog. At the top I felt good, put my head down and hammered the legs.

I surprised myself, and some people I overtook, at the speed I managed to keep up to the end. I finished feeling like I could run. We’ll have to see if that feeling is good enough to last me through a marathon though.

I put the success of the ride down to riding at pace with Mark and Loz early on and having the tri bars. The tri bars benefited me by providing a stable, and extra, position to rest. I had non of the shoulder or neck ache that I am accustomed to in long rides. Will definitely be keeping them on for Nice.

After my initial apprehension of injuring myself so close to the Ironman I settled back and soaked up the sun and scenery. The Saturday had a chill in the air but nothing like the bitterly cold I remembered after the climbs last time. The reward for a hard days riding was a stunning view of Barmouth estuary from our B&B and steak and ale pie from the George.

Over the weekend we covered most of the routes we’d done previously but this time I preferred the far side, particularity the Tarw route. Unfortunately my bike wasn’t as pleased with the terrain as I was. My chain snapped 4 times and I wore through a set of pads along with continued issues with my Middleburn cranks. Time for a big overhaul before the next time….

I wasn’t sure what to expect from this year’s course as its changed for the third year on the trot. I’ve done Mow Cop at the end, middle and now the beginning of the ride. Think I prefer it in the middle as doing it early loses some of the anticipation. I did enjoy it though. For the first time this year the legs felt locked on.

Joining me on this year’s Cat were Mark, Steve and Loz. For Steve and Loz this was their first sportive and I must admit to feeling a little guilty for talking them into it but seeing their faces after topping Mow Cop reminded me why I got into this.

From the first to second food stations we somehow managed to head up a pack, push too much wind and increase the speed. By the second food stop we had lost Steve, his gearing was making the hills hard going, and caught up with Mark’s friend Rich. I spotted Steve as we left the food station as he rode in with a pack and a smile on his face.

Mark and Rich pushed the pace on as Loz and I debated the 100 or 69 mile route. By the split we opted for the 69 as the four of us were riding strong as a pack. For 10 miles the pace picked up and for the last 2 Rich told me to “put the hammer down”. I surprised myself with the pace and had no regrets for opting to do the shorter route.

In the end I got the mental boost I needed and that was the point of it all.

View from Skyline trail

Afan differed greatly from my experience at Coed y Brenin. Whites trail was my first encounter of long single track climbing and after settling in I loved it. The technical descents were separated but some long trails that pushed burning legs ever further.

Word of advice; if in winter allow yourself enough time to get back through the dark forests in failing light. Loz and I did the final descent of White’s in near pitch black and without lights. It was fun though!

The bike took a battering from the rough trails and required a new bottom bracket and tune up, from the superb bike shop, on the second morning. All in trails and facilities are superb. I think I’d go to Coed y Brenin for the hair raising stuff and Afan for some exhilarating all day riding.

Special thanks go out to Richard, the proprietor of the Afan Lodge where we stayed. The lodge is outstanding and he’s a genuinely helpful guy.

The course was a mix bag of trail and road. Nothing particuallary tricky but the mud, wet leaves and chalk surfaces meant you had to have you whits about you. There were a couple of places where you couldn’t physically ride up the steep muddy slopes and I was grateful for the studs in my shoes.

All in all I had a great day out, got some miles in and most importantly got very muddy. We didn’t hammer it round but we still managed to get a gold time. There’s a typo on my result – I didn’t take 12 hours!

I’d like to add a note about the organisation. For a small outfit they were superb. The event was well organised, staffed and marked. The GPX supplied was spot on and they even offered a .crs version for my Garmin. A small touch that saved me the usual last minute faf.. Big thanks and I look forward to the next one.

Earlyish Saturday we headed off to the mountain bike center at Coed-y-Brenin. Its not far from Dolgellau but the slow Welsh roads means its takes a while to get there. After the typical bloke bike faff we hit the Dragon trail.

The start from the center was far more technical then I expected or had ever experienced but I got through it and started enjoying myself. Some long climbs led to stunning views as we soaked up the sun. It felt more like August than October!

Video - View from the Dragon trail

What goes up must come down, as they say, and down we did come! I scrambled, jumped and shook myself senseless over terrain I wouldn’t classify as traversable. It was a case of gravity and stupidity overcoming logic but the reward was a huge kick of adrenaline. I think I’ve found a new sport to keep me going until ski season!

After a hard day’s riding we headed to the King George hotel, by the Barmouth toll bridge. It was one of those perfect moments; we were tired, the place was open, serving food and had formula 1 qualifying on the big TV!

Our accommodation for the evening was something different – a love to hate caravan!

The Windrush

The view from the Windrush

With views like that £13 was well spent. The ability to cook bacon in the morning was a bonus!

Sunday followed the same format as Saturday, but with different trails. I  came off a few times and hurt all over but I couldn’t get enough. Recommend the MBR trail for some serious technical stuff.

Bring on the next weekend!

We arrived late after a little fun with M5/M6 traffic and ended up pitching tents in the dark. This was Paul’s first camping trip so it was funny seeing him get to grips with a tent by car headlight.

The planned format for the weekend was the 90 mile road race on the Sat and the 50 MTB on the Sunday.

Waking up in the mist on Saturday I wasn’t feeling the love but Phil’s magic porridge made things better. The boys called me a princess as I slept with ear plugs and an eye mask – essential camping equipment if you ask me!

As we were up early we set off pretty much straight away, around 8. I chose to ride and have a natter with the boys and take in the scenery; not that I was feeling particularly bike fit anyway. In my head I was hoping that the altitude benefits from Everest would see me through.

Phil wasn’t having the best time of it, although he did put in some serious effort, and had to take the sort route. Cramps are not fun on a bike. I then rode on with Paul for another 40 past Bala. I left him where I thought we would be doing a big climb but it came later than expected. I kept an eye out for Paul at the next food stop but had to continue as it was getting nippy.

Event Pic: Phil and I

Event Pic: The bolt pose for Alex, the missing rider

I eventually caught up with a guy called Keith and we swapped stories about trekking and climbing. I really enjoy meeting new people on rides. It also helped hammer out a few miles. He left me at Horseshoe pass as my legs began to feel the strain. I felt no shame though as he said he was a specialist climber. The first half of the pass was awful, I felt like I was riding through treacle (see my face in this event pic). After the switch back I found some pace and ripped up the remainder. Unfortunately I cooled on the descent and picked up cramp. The final few miles were miserable and painful (see my finish picture).

I awoke Sunday morning feeling pretty sore and my bum didn’t like the moutain bike saddle. I was borrowing Mark’s GT and I had a brand new pair of shoes to add to the pain party. Mountain bikers are a bit more laid back than roadies. This was reflected in the 9.30 start. Actually it was quite eventful as the town center roads were closed and we joined around 1000 bikers in a mass start.

The main things I noticed about mountain bikers vs roadies is that there’s not much road discipline and the majority can’t climb for toffee. At the first big hill we bottle necked as people slowed to a snails pace. I used the extra gears to spin face and overtake where possible. With the granny cog I could really up the cadence and flew up the hill. Unfortunately if someone stopped it generally had the effect of stopping us all.

We ended up doing the 25k route as Paul’s leg was hurting. No matter though as he’d he’d completed the long road ride, his furthest to date. There wasn’t as much technical downhill as we’d liked but still enough for me to test out the GT and Paul and Phil to end up in the gorse.

Had a superb time away with the boys and can’t wait to get back on the mountain bike.

A final word must go out to the Ruthin organisers in the form of thanks for superb organisation, signposting and location.

I opted to for less weather protection on the gable that the fog would burn of and the sun would stay out. It turned out to be a good decision, bar the lack of over shoes which left my feet numb from the moment we set off.

For this years event I had a race plan in my mind and I stuck to it. For the first 10-15 I went out fairly hard; trying to make the most of fast pack riders. The pack was working so well that when the route split came some of the long route riders followed us!

After the main pack dissipated I rode with Mark in a smaller pack of a while. At about 15 miles in I broke for another pack but upon catching them found them to be slower so opted to carry on. So for the bulk of the ride I was by myself, but I didn’t mind as I had a good beat going from my iPod to my legs.

Mowcop came at twenty miles – bang on my caffeine gel feed. Knowing what was coming helped and I zig zagged up the first section, turned off up a side road to rest then darted straight up the main hill (see the pic).

I’d thought that would be pretty much it for the hills but the organisers had planned a tougher route than last year. Of not was a gorgeous climb through a forest and Swiss Hill, a cobbled road. Swiss Hill is the first hill where I’ve had to get off my bike. I take my hat off to those who rode all the way as it was so bumpy and slippy. I found it faster to get off and run up! This had the added advantage of relieving some of the cramp I had picked up from 50 miles.

All in all I put everything in to this one and although the results aren’t published yet am confident the my time of 4 hours and 8 minutes should be a good one.

Thanks once again to Kiltogo for another superb event.

Descending the volcano we pulled into to a giant tortoise sanctuary. Before seeing any wildlife we were treated to some tea/coffee with copious amounts of rum – went down well. Our host then led us round the ground of the sanctuary and handed us fresh fruit from the trees as we went. Entering the tortoise enclosure was like stepping back in time. Ancient faces seemed to be watching us as much as w