Anything but grim up north

Here at Simpson we were delighted to hear about plans for next year’s Tour de Yorkshire, a three-day stage race in May jointly staged by Welcome to Yorkshire tourism agency and the organisers of the Tour de France. We were in God’s Own County for stage 2 of this year’s Tour de France and, as you’ll be able to read in the forthcoming issue 6 of Simpson, it was a wonderful experience. It’s one thing to watch thousands of cycling fans lining the beautiful roads of South Yorkshire on your telly – but actually being there on that amazing day, soaking up the atmosphere and the friendliness and the warm sunshine as the Tour circus rolled by was truly unforgettable. Tour de France director Christian Prudhomme said: “We knew Yorkshire was gorgeous and there was a real passion for the Tour, but now we know after the unforgettable Grand Départ that people love the sport of cycling. It is now time to work together to bring a new race that will see some amazing riders and passionate crowds once again line the streets.” We couldn’t agree more – and we couldn’t be happier for our Yorkshire-based cycling friends, all of whom will be jumping up and down with excitement at this exciting prospect. The amazing success story of British cycling continues…

Tour of Britain 2014

The Tour of Britain rolled into Brighton yesterday and although thousands turned out to watch, it was still possible to get incredibly close to the riders – so much so that one local club rider was overheard saying incredulously: “I just touched Kittel!” as he vigorously rubbed his own legs, hoping that he might somehow absorb a fraction of the sprinter’s awesome power. We positioned ourselves at the top of Bear Road, the final climb of a tough day. We figured that the riders would be suffering after more than 130 miles of racing, including two category 1 climbs within 10 miles of each other. And we knew that Bear Road kicks like a mule into a 10-11% top section for a couple of hundred metres. We were expecting to see a lot of pain and we weren’t disappointed. The effort was etched onto every face that passed within inches of us towards the final push for the finish line. It was a vivid and thrilling reminder of the extraordinary physical hardship pro riders put themselves through. Early yesterday morning as we cycled through sunny Sussex lanes for the final 40 miles of stage seven, watching the first spectators position themselves at key vantage points, seeing the graffiti on the roads, and the bunting on the village pubs, it struck us yet again how far cycling has come in the UK over the past few years. These are good times for British cycling fans.

Tour de Suffolk

Ever since we witnessed last year’s inaugural Crafted Classique sportive, part of the SkyRide weekend, this year’s event has been in the calendar as a team event for us. The weather plays such a massive role in events like this. Regular forecast checks informed decisions on clothing and bikes. With two different distance choices on offer – 100 kilometres or 100 miles – the sportive had something for everyone. One major factor was the wind, known by some as the friend of the fit cyclist. It’s great when it's working with you but riding into it is always a challenge. As we all know, once you are out on a bike you are committed to the choices you've made before you set off. Although you don't need to be as OCD as Eddy Merckx, it's the small things that sometimes matter the most. Riding any distance in the summer months will demand an isotonic drink. This is a basic fact but if overlooked can have dire consequences. Without a restock of salt and essential minerals our muscles will begin to seize up. We've all witnessed cramp at some stage in our lives. What starts out as a tinge can escalate quickly to a cramp so severe that it could mean you losing control or even crashing your bike. Without the correct hydration you could lose valuable minutes off your target time. Calculations about which food stops to refuel at become important decisions. Several of our team fell victim to cramping; it meant any attempts at PBs went out of the window. Although the weather gods smiled on us, a simple lack of proper hydration foiled the day. But it would be churlish to grumble. The sheer joy of any ride in blue skies, warm sun on familiar roads on your best bike sporting just bibs and a jersey is hard to beat. The icing on the cake was the hog roast or burger (a veggie option was also available) and a glass of Adnams, the local beer. Bliss!

RideLondon 2014

For most cyclists wind and rain are not their favourite riding conditions but being cyclists they get on with it all the same. With the threat of a Pythonesque termed 'ex hurricane' Bertha in the mix with the threat of heavy rain the 2014 edition of RideLondon had it all before the event even began. As spectators not participants, the weather made it difficult to find motivation to get out and support the event. At times the conditions reminded us of recent images witnessed at the Tour of Poland, at least RideLondon organisers had the sense to shorten this event. However good your kit and clothing are - you're the one who has to get out and ride the bike. Many of the riders we saw some eight or so hours into the ride looked like hollow souls returning from hell, glad to be back but at what cost. All physical and mental ambition had been drained from them. From Chelsea Bridge embankment we witnessed the 'survivors' making their way along the last 4/5kms. The Grosvenor public house had been taken over for the day by official Prudential cheerers making high volume motivational chapping, waving and general vocal encouragement (even to amazed Boris Bike tourists who were making the most of the empty roads). An hour after the final riders crossed the finish line, the pros came through courting the familiar cavalcade of support vehicles, police bikes and helicopters but even these riders were strung out in distant batches. Although now bright and sunny, any close-up view from the main peloton showed how hard the conditions had been. Blackened faces reminiscent of Paris Roubaix's of yesteryear further underlined what an epic RideLondon had been. We're sure that for many the phrase 'never again' had been uttered countless times throughout the day but like the great races of the pro cycling calendar the extreme conditions had highlighted the determination, courage and spirit of those taking part. This said we see next year's event being termed a 'classic'. Well done to the event organisers for shortening not cancelling this event.

Dunwich Dynamo 2014

Nearly a week has now gone by since our first Dunwich Dynamo, the legendary night ride between Hackney and the Suffolk coast that takes place on the Saturday closest to the full moon in July. The ‘Dun Run’ has grown from a handful of bike messengers who rode the first Dynamo in 1993 to around 2000 riders of all types these days. We saw hardcore racers, tall bikes, Bromptons, knackered old MTBs and pretty much everything in between. There’s a growing number of night rides these days but there’s nothing quite like the Dynamo, with its lack of waymarks or on-ride support, its minimal organisation and the utter chaos involved in getting anywhere from an obscure little village on the Suffolk coast on a Sunday morning. We absolutely loved it. From the cyclist rat-runs that get you out of the big city to the potholed lanes of Essex to the confusing final miles in rural Suffolk, the 120-mile route is pretty flat and, thanks to the prevailing south-westerly winds, reasonably quick – we averaged 15mph without really trying. The spirit of the ride was summed up when we pulled into a feed stop somewhere on the borders of Essex and Suffolk. Like every other feed stop, this one was unofficial and manned by volunteers. Wandering around a darkened garden, we asked a passing stranger if there were any toilets. The stranger turned out to be the owner of the house, who told us as he led us to the bathroom in his home that he’d laid on the refreshments because he used to ride the Dynamo each year and knew that riders might be flagging as they passed his house. Given the low prices he was charging, he was clearly doing it simply for the love of the ride. After 120 gloriously warm, slightly damp miles, we rolled into Dunwich, where the done thing is to jump into the sea for a refreshing dip before contemplating the tortuous journey home. That journey was pretty grim, far too expensive and seemingly endless. Long overnight rides wreak havoc with your sleep patterns. And exhaustion made the start of this working week feel like a monstrous ordeal. But we’ll definitely be back for another Dun Run – just for the love of the ride.