Cyclone

Coming hard on the heels of the GYBR last weekend it was time for the biggie: my first century. I have to say I was a little worried about our chances: Mark had struggled with the hills the week before in Yorkshire and those were going to be tiddlers in comparison to what we would face today.

We woke to rain but by the time Mark had got up to Newcastle and I'd sorted out porridge and bacon sarnies, it had mellowed to a fine mizzle. Mark still had to register, and I ended up getting caught in the chaos around Kingston Park, but eventually parked out at Great Park and cycled in to meet him.

We were on the road by 9ish, and eased through the crowds ahead until Mark took a corner too fast. Realising that a crash was inevitable he opted for a soft landing on the verge and hedge. Brushing off the mud, grass and concerns of fellow riders, he caught me as I was taking off my jacket, and was sure he was ok to carry on.



The hills rolled on through Ogle, Whalton, Meldon, villages I'd never heard of, then through Rothbury and Thropton before what we thought was the highest point before Elsdon. We stopped for a celebratory photo at the top.


But it was clear after the descent that Mark was already tiring. He had the look of the hunted about him as he tucked into tea and banana bread (thanks Jo!).


Both refueled, we were off, heading through Otterburn and then the "wrong way" up the A68 - towards Edinburgh. We soon swung south again and through more remote desolate moorland north of Haltwhistle where it soon became apparent that the hill before Elsdon was itself unfortunately a tiddler.


By the time we reached Wark it was my turn to feel like I was running on empty and this late in the day there was only tea and bananas left in the feed station. I had both. Then I went to the village shop and bought a ham and pease pudding sarnie and crisps and chocolate. Then I ate them all. Then it was ok to get moving again.

Shortly after this we caught up with Kev from the Oddsox taking five. He had bad news: we still had to tackle the Ryals, a series of climbs and false summits. He also had good news: after them the route settled to gentle undulations for the last 15 miles down into Newcastle.

The last hour or so was a bit of a blur but we finally rolled over the finish line about 9 1/2 hours after starting.


Jo got the oligatory "I'm finished, it's not dark yet and Mike hasn't killed me" call.


It was at this point I had to tell Mark that the car was parked 2 miles away. It needed an energy gel to get us there.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Cyclone