An Epic day in spring

Today brought my first real test of the season - Epic Cycles Spring Challenge. The event website promised "a picturesque and hilly 50-mile route... a half-way house between a fully supported cyclosportive and a reliability ride... intended to be just like the Italian mini (or Corto) Fondos" (whatever a Corto Fondo is!).

Having ridden the Spring Challenge several times in the past, I was expecting a challenging test and felt like I might be able to place well, having come 7th in 2009. My early season training was going to be put to the test and I was looking forward to seeing how those winter turbo miles would pay off. So with some excitement, Pete and I set off at 7am this morning, leaving Bristol and heading northwards to Kyre Park, near Tenbury Wells in Worcestershire.

Rain followed us all the way up but no sooner had we arrived than the clouds lifted to reveal a bright and sunny spring morning. The temperature was still cool enough to make clothing decisions difficult (most, including me, went for too many layers, regretting it within a short space of time) but the sunshine was most welcome.

We set off at 10am, with the sound of countryside church bells ringing in our ears. The first 15 miles or so took us through a roller-coaster of countryside lanes, mostly full of mud which soon splattered faces of anyone unlucky enough to be riding behind anyone without mudguards (apologies to my fellow riders!).

After early jostling for positions I found myself in the lead group of three riders. We were an awkward mix though as they raced down the hills they knew well, showing little regard for pot-holes or slippy roads, whilst I eased myself down them at a slower pace, still smarting from my recent crash, but made up time on the uphills.

Soon enough our group was broken by a flock of sheep being herded along a lane. We came to a standstill and were soon joined by a couple of other riders. I stopped briefly to make an adjustment and was caught napping as the others took advantage of a widened road and some nifty shepherding, which lost me about a minute on the group.

I soon clawed back the distance on the two rear markers but the front two were off and away. I chased hard for five miles but couldn't seem to make headway into their lead. I was just settling into a lonely ride to the finish when I caught them on a blind corner. Joining them only seemed to spur them on as I could just about hang on to their back wheels for several miles. 'Epic Cycles Jersey' and 'Blue Jacket' were their only distinguishing features until I caught my breath. Once I drew level I saw that Epic Cycles Jersey was a young lad of around 20 and Blue Jacket was a sunken cheeked racer, skinny, wiry, in his mid-30s and probably fit as fiddle.

Their pace was demanding but pride forced me to take a few turns at the front, always trying to reduce their pace a little to save something for the closing miles. I knew I was begining to hurt but what about them? Was Epic Cycles Jersey young and inexperienced? Did Blue Jacket have enough food inside that beanpole frame to make it to the finish? I was about to find out.

The organisers' pre-race information described Ankerdine Hill as 'legendary' and I'd heard a few riders mention its name with reverance. As we drew nearer Epic Cycles Jacket asked if I'd ridden it before. "No," I said, "have I got a treat in store?" His mumbled reply suggested something quite ugly was awaiting. A disgusting gradient was just around the corner, enough to make several riders dismount and walk, so Pete later told me.

We turned off an A-Road, passed by a pub, rode across a bridge over the River Teme, and came to a steep ascent with a 17% gradient sign. We rounded the first corner together and I saw what looked like a wall in front of me. I let out some expletives and watched my two compatriots ride off towards the sky. The climb lasted less than a half a mile but its effects were long lasting.

As I coasted the climb, with my lungs fighting for oxygen, I was treated to great views over two valleys either side of the road - Worcestershire in one direction, Herefordshire the other - but faced with an almighty chase back to the leaders on the road. Unfortunately the elastic had well and truly snapped and I couldn't claw them back a second time. Another monster climb a mile or two further down the road, longer this time but with a much shallower gradient, took the strength from my legs and I monotonously turned the pedals in the sunshine, enjoying the warmth but despising the effort the climb was extolling on my weary frame.

The miles slowly ticked by and, as my speed had dropped considerably, I kept checking over my shoulder for the fearful site of a peleton bearing down on me. With less than 10 miles to go, I saw a train of four approaching. I eased up until they were upon me then joined their chuffing, panting, cereal-bar fueled locomotive heading for the finish. My enthusiasm for riding hard picked up once I was on their wheels and I knew I would remain with them until the finish. However, it wasn't plain sailing. Local knowledge clearly helped as some riders, especially those in shop jerseys, instinctively knew where to put the hammer down and how to take blind corners.

As the finish drew nearer, we each took shorter turns on the front, not wanting to lead out the finish sprint, but perhaps, in the spirit of a reliability ride (or indeed a 'Corto Fondo'), the finish ended up as non-contest as we rolled in together, with handshakes and congratulations all round.

I finished joint third, posting a time of 3hrs 2mins 23s for the 55 mile route. Blue Jacket was the winner, coming in 5 minutes before us, getting the first choice of cakes and sandwiches in the clubhouse, the adulation of the very sparse crowd (mostly staff from Epic Cycles) and the glory of knowing he was the best on the day.

So the Epic Cycles Spring Challenge certainly lived up to its name. Epic, challenging and bathed in luke-warm March sunshine. It also robbed any evening 'spring' from my tired limbs!