White Rose Classic

Technically, this was the most difficult ride I have undertaken. Nearly 4000 metres of climbing in 185km (116 miles). The profile demonstrates just how demanding this sportive is.



Nonetheless, on the day, I found the route to be relentless and challenging, but not ridiculous - and the scenery was consistently beautiful. I am, overall, really pleased with my well-paced performance (I avoided group riding, so this was pretty much a solo effort):

Bike: Trek
Distance: 115.60 miles
Time: 7 hours 21 minutes 28 seconds
Average speed: 15.7 mph
Maximum speed: 44.0 mph
Odometer (at end): 12255 miles

My official finishing time was 7 hours 50 minutes and 56 seconds, which puts me in the 'Silver' category. I'd have been quicker (I was flying up the climbs again!) but was being extra-cautious on the hair-raising descents.

More later on my experiences of the invididual climbs etc. I'm not sore at all today (Monday): a bit sunstruck, but very happy! Spent the day before the ride re-visiting some of my favourite locations in Yorkshire. Must record an enormous debt of gratitude to Cheryl who drove me up north: many hundreds of miles so I could hurt myself going up some hills. Madness.

And here's my report:

PROLOGUE: GIGGLESWICK TO OTLEY
Up before 6, to the beautiful sight of mist rolling over the dales. Luckily I didn't have to cycle the thirty-odd miles to Otley, owing to my official support vehicle and driver. The undulating, often stomach-churning, country roads were blissfully free of traffic (albeit liberally splattered with roadkill) and we arrived in Otley in good time, which enabled me to take on board toast (sans beans) and coffee. The sky was grey and ominous at this point, and I pondered if short-sleeve jersey and shorts were a good idea. In fact, I pondered if the ride itself was a good idea. The previous day of wandering and reminiscing had been so pleasant and relaxing...

...but nonetheless, got my timing chip, got Cheryl to zip-tie my number to my handlebars (I would have probably removed a finger attempting this delicate task) and was off, without drama, just before 8.

STAGE 1: OTLEY TO GRASSINGTON
Total distance: 41.2km
Total elapsed time: 1:38:42
Total average speed: 15.56mph
Split distance: 41.2km
Split time: 1:38:42
Split average speed: 15.56mph

I quickly established myself in a group of, erm, one. I didn't want to set out too hard - I simply wanted to get round the course in less than eight hours. I therefore spun reasonably gently along the (few and far between) flat sections, aggressively rode up the climbs and descended cautiously. The first few climbs did not tax me too much, but did warm my legs up nicely while the sun remained behind the clouds. Gorgeous scenery and within 5 miles I knew exactly why I'd chosen to do this ride. I felt this was going to be a 'good day' although I still reined in the desire to go quicker. I spent roughly 2 miles with a fast group, before deciding I wasn't confident enough for group riding on such roads, and that the pace was a little too high. Although much of the first section was gentle-ish drag, there were also some short, sharp climbs and my first introduction to the perils of steep descents - lots of gravel and switchbacks. I took these very easy. Although I overtook a lot of people on the climbs, they were all making the time back going downhill. I really need to work on this. Meanwhile, my timing chip had been placed so that any left wrist movement made it feel like it would snap off, which was annoying. I also discovered my new handlebars are not positioned correctly, so the brake hoods weren't in a very comfortable position. Other than that, everything was ‘lovely’, and as I approached the first feed stop at Grassington, the sun began to make an appearance.

STAGE 2: GRASSINGTON TO HAWES
Total distance: 78.5km
Total elapsed time: 3:10:08
Total average speed: 15:39
Split distance: 37.3km
Split time: 1:31:26
Split average speed: 15.20mph

At Grassington filled up the water bottle I'd drained, but idiotically forgot to take it with me. I'd ride the rest of the route with the single remaining bottle. Ate some flapjack and Tracker bars, and was on my way fairly sharpish. Realised my bottle error about a mile out, but decided to keep going – turning back seems so demoralising. The next section was fairly innocuous gradient-wise, with some beautiful roads (often occupied by foolish sheep) running alongside, rather than across, the looming hills. That is until Fleet Moss appeared. The first of the big climbs, and, allegedly, Britain's highest public paved road. To be honest, I'd been holding back all morning so the ascent wasn't too much of a challenge. It went on a bit, and had a nasty steep kick near the top, but worth every moment of grinding effort for the stunning view. Surreally, just before I began the hill, I encountered two guys coming the other way on green and white German Polizei motorbikes. At the top, a group of motocross bikers were haring about. Another cyclist at the top warned me about the descent, and he wasn't kidding. It was terrifying! A straight drop but badly surfaced. Had I had more confidence, I would've caned it down there, and 60mph was a distinct possibility. As it was, the surface made it feel like my front wheel was coming loose and I was carefully applying the brakes to try and control my speed. Doing 30mph while feathering the brakes felt much faster - it was like a rollercoaster sensation. The guy who'd warned me was now a speck in the distance as my hands got sore from gripping the bars! A farmer in an ATV with obligatory sheepdog was also haring down the slope, but he had more wheels and stability than me. I admit I have never been so scared while actually on a bike - I felt very shaky and a bit sick near the bottom, and it took a while for my head to clear itself. Was getting pretty light-headed and emotional as I spun into Hawes, a place which, in any case, holds special memories. Still, at the feed station I filled up on more flapjack and got some SIS energy drink in my remaining bottle. All the talk was about the Fleet Moss descent, and I imagine I wasn't the only person who urgently needed to use the local bike shop's toilet! Nonetheless, I was on a good, reasonable pace, especially considering the series of evil climbs ahead.

STAGE 3: HAWES TO MALHAM
Total distance: 129.7km
Total elapsed time: 5:39:07
Total average speed: 14.25mph
Split distance: 51.2km
Split time: 2:28:59
Split average speed: 12.81mph

Strangely, this leg didn't feel that 'long', time or distance wise - it simply felt very, very high! Rolled out of Hawes, following some of the route walked the day before. This continued through Hardraw and towards the impressive, imposing Ribblehead viaduct. Apparently, hundreds of men died in the construction of this enormous structure, and soon I tasted perhaps a fraction of the suffering involved as I was directed towards the old Coal Road up Garsdale Head. An enormous climb, really long, with some seriously vertical moments. Again, completely worth it for the stunning views and unique challenge. I did get up it pretty quickly, spurred on perhaps my first glimpses of riders dismounting and walking. I couldn't do this, so gritted my teeth and dug in. I think my aggression on the climbs is a good thing - it doesn't mean going into the red, but it does mean I get up them quicker and it makes me quicker next time. It's also nice to pass other climbers as a psychological boost - if I was climbing on my own, I'd feel like I was crawling. The descent from the top was different to Fleet Moss, but equally as terrifying - lots of switchbacks and sudden drops. I was super-cautious and it was a bit annoying to be passed by some of the 'walkers' from the ascent! I encountered a young guy who'd come off on the descent, but had sustained only a small graze on his arms. Nothing near as bad as the injuries I got from much lower speed incidents a few weeks ago! Anyway, after this, another biggish climb virtually straightaway, up Ribblehead. This wasn't so tricky, though the heat was starting to rise. It was followed by some wonderful, measured descents which I was able to get some speed up on. Here, somebody commented that I was riding a 53/39. I hadn't really thought about this, but virtually everyone I encountered was using a compact or triple. Sensible, I guess, but my gear choice wasn't really hindering me on the climbs (though I'd have really flown with my 27-tooth rear sprocket, but hadn't put it on...), and was enabling me to build up some steam on the flatter roads. My over-zealous descending probably cost me 10 minutes over the whole event (at least). Following a relatively easy 'main road' section, it was back to the climbing, out of Stainforth and towards Malham. Lovely, lovely hills, though again with more pesky technical descents. I still wasn't tired, and I had the advantage of knowing the two big climbs were out of the way. At the Malham feed station took on more water, more food. 30-odd miles to go, riders in various states of sanity. It was getting hot.

STAGE 4: MALHAM TO WESTON
Total distance: 185km
Total elapsed time: 7:50:56
Total average speed: 14.64mph
Split distance: 55.3km
Split time: 2:11:49
Split average speed: 15.64mph

On paper, this section didn't look too tough, but obviously the last miles of any big ride are a psychological nightmare as the odometer gradually ticks over. Especially when they involve yet more climbing... Started to encounter a fair few riders who had overtaken me early on, and I was overtaken by some demon riders who made everything seem effortless. I was starting to wish I'd put more of a spurt on earlier, but it was lucky I'd saved something, because the White Rose organisers had kindly placed Langbar climb around the 100 mile point. This finished off a lot of people - many walked up it - and I quickly got into the worst state I'd been in all day. I simply put myself into lowest gear and turned the pedals, without any real hint of taking the hill on. Even this soon became painful, my jersey was virtually unzipped – it was the faint sound of a small group clapping all the successful climbers at the crest that kept me going. Unfortunately, by the time I got to the top, I was making all manner of noises and had assumed a tortured grimace, which can’t have been too nice to witness. But I'd done it, and it wasn't that far to the finish. The remaining stretch went through some leafy villages and lanes, which cooled me down nicely. Unlike the Chiltern 100, the later climbs didn't take that much out of me, and I was able to put on a bigger effort to get home. I was pleased to have done 7:50, but reckon a 7:25 gold standard would've been within my reach had I taken matters a bit more seriously. Never mind: I had thoroughly enjoyed myself, my head had been in an extremely happy place, and my legs did not feel sore! A bit of anticlimax at the finish in Weston: dibbed my time chip, then was told to ride the 2 miles 'downhill' to Otley.

EPILOGUE: OTLEY TO EALING
At Otley, met up with Cheryl who'd seen me stagger in. Grabbed my result print out, washed my foul, foul face and devoured a plate of beef stew, before setting off back to London. I think I babbled incoherent nonsense for half an hour or so, before falling asleep. I was prodded awake at a service station where I ate a big pile of fast food. This woke me up, so the nonsense returned. At this point I felt vaguely guilty: Cheryl had been up since the crack of dawn, and was now having to negotiate the M1 on a hot Sunday evening, with only a sunstroked and sweaty wreck for company. Thankfully, the Hedwig soundtrack was on hand (it was that or Alan Titchmarsh playing Lesley Garrett). I don't know if she'll see it the same way, but it is nice to have friends to greet you at the end of these things, even if they do give you that look of total incomprehension.

I cannot recommend this ride highly enough. If you're a regular cyclist, with a few centuries under your belt, and a desire to tackle challenging hills, this is the one for you. The route signposting, feed stops and general clarity of organisation are all top-class, which means the cyclist can concentrate solely on overcoming the gradients! Make a weekend of it, and see some of Yorkshire too - a great place to relax, as reality and the rest of the world seem to drift slowly away. Must be the constant bleating of sheep.

For some pictures of the climbs etc. described above, as well as another rider's experiences, see here.

The Cyclosport UK website is worth checking out for a wealth of information, and a friendly, helpful community forum. Not that I'm just chuffed they used one of my reports.