3 Peaks Cyclo Cross 2022 - A big day out..

I started the day with porridge at 5.30 in the morning. Soon after, me and my two support team were hoofing it down the road to the Yorkshire Dales for the 3 peaks cyclo-cross race. In a nutshell, it involves getting up Ingleborough, Whernside and Pennygent with your bike and getting back across the finish line in one piece. It involves something like 10 miles of hilly road, 20 miles of track and another 8 miles or so of unrideable terrain, or thereabouts. Now, I've never visited any of the above peaks and if you've been reading this for a while, you'll know I’ve been doing not a lot of this sort of thing, so I was winging it to say the least having paid my eighty quid after pre-qualifying.  

We were sent 7 pages of rules and regulations. The mandatory gear was a whistle, a survival bag and a waterproof. The kit check was minimal once we had parked in the field. Self-reliance is big in the 3 Peaks. I had anticipated finishing in a time of four and a half hours. I diligently completed the back of my number with several emergency contacts - I've never really bothered too much about this before, but today for some reason, I was wondering if I'd bitten off more than I could chew. I joined the queue for the portaloos and caught sight of Chris Young behind me. He won this back in the 80's and I remember him riding away from the bunch in a road race i was taking part in, in Scarborough. In the portaloo, I had to strip 3 layers off and was desperate not to touch anything - these things are awful. A ditch in the open air would be more welcome. Around 350 lined up on the road outside the pub and we were off with our numbers pinned to the left shoulder and a dibber for checkpoints on your wrist. I had screwed an old aluminium bottle cage on the bike and had decided to go with a ron hill backpack to carry bits n bobs, gels, my phone and some nutrition bars. There was 5 miles of neutralised road before we headed up the track to Ingleborough. 

The heart rate was up as the ascent began and I found myself working past quite a few bikies as the impossible gradient meant that many resorted to pulling themselves up the fence wire beside the wall with the bike slung over their shoulder. At the top I realised that today's biggest challenge was going to be how to limit the time loss on the descents. I was not overly happy with the bike brakes and painfully short of experience in down hilling, I was passed by quite a few. It was back onto the road for a ride up to Whernside, where I think I passed Sharon Taylor, the fell=runner out with the kids. There was a drinks station at the toe of the hill and I stopped for salt, a gel and 2 cups of water. Again, I passed around 10 going up Whernside. The clag was still down and the wind felt like it was getting up. At the top I was already 2hrs.39min into the race and feeling some twinges of cramp.  My descent of Whernside was stuttering and was not helped by Mountain Rescue attending a crash victim as the ambulance made its way slowly up the track a mile later. My bottle cage snapped shortly afterwards. I stuck it and the bottle under my jumper. At Horton where the big viaduct was, the cramp appeared again and as I seriously considered jacking. I passed my bottle cage and bottle to a marshal. I had a strong word with myself. I rode on. I was 3hrs.14 minutes in and cheered myself up with a nutty syrup bar and the thought that I only had Pennygent left. 

I had spent minutes taking my gloves off, then putting them back on and after 5 miles on the road, I turned left onto the track leading up to the last peak. There was quite a crowd here and plenty of walkers, not to mention the riders in front who had already ascended and were descending, tearing down the gravel track in a suicidal manner. As I fought my way up the lower slopes I thought I might get flattened. Thankfully, it was not to be. As I ascended, the wind got stronger and there was beginning to get a hefty wind-chill-thing near the top. I was tired and the bike was catching the gusts, pulling my slight frame off the path as I cut a shaky looking figure, exhausted, cold and slowing to a shuffle. I was just ahead of a girl who looked to be a strong cyclist, but not so fast off the bike. 

At the top of Pennygent the clock said 4hrs.24min and I just wanted to get down and finished. My lightweight bike was blowing around like a rag in the wind. The descent was tricky and there was another casualty and another ambulance on its way up. But the track got easier toward the bottom where I saw my support team and, with 3 miles to go, I began cramping again and I let a further 2 get past me. I finished in 5hrs and 50 seconds. I was mightily pleased and after gathering my breath, I looked for the riders refreshments. However, it appeared you had to pay for drinks and food and shaking my head, I wandered back to the car where I was happy that I'd packed a flask, coffee and biscuits. I was pretty hungry and as I sat on the edge of the car boot, I looked at the results print out. 295th. I reflected this was the longest sporting day in my life. I had felt a bit teary once or twice on the ride and realised this is simply exhaustion. It was a big day out. They need to get the free refreshments sorted out, though. The bike took a hammering and performed like a tireless servant. The shoes worked well. Thanks to cat and marg for the support and photos.