Having done the mini massif version of this event in 2013 and finding it enjoyable despite the appalling weather of that year, an uncharacteristic burst of enthusiasm coinciding with fitness, saw me signing up for the long route at the beginning of 2014. Fate had other plans however and July and most of August were spent couch-bound, sofa-surfing while I recovered from a dissected artery in my neck. I was finally given permission to return to cycling with the vague instruction “take it easy at first”. Discretion being the better part of valour and all that, I decided to downgrade my route to the mini-massif.
A short pedal from the previous night’s accommodation - the excellent Linnett Hill Bed and Breakfast - and I was joining the queue in Keswick’s Fitz Park, listening to the sniggering of the lycra-clad throng when the safety instructions reached the bit about it not being a race. A variety of bikes, mainly drop-barred cyclocross machines or hardtail mountain bikes with a smattering of full sussers were waiting with their owners, ready to be released, in small batches, into the Lakeland countryside - and the weather was looking decidedly promising. And we were off, our group cautiously making their way up the cobbles past the swimming pool for the amenable pedal along the old rail track to Threlkeld. Following the C2C route we made our way to Mosedale, leaving the C2C, eventually swapping tarmac for stony mining tracks and the start of The Big Climb, a long drag around the side of the Caldbeck Fells. This year a combination of an overgeared cross bike, puny under-trained legs and perhaps a few excess pounds saw me resorting to pedestrianism for a couple of stretches. What goes up must come down and a slithering descent on muddy grass down to Fell Side was undertaken with relish, mountain bikes now gaining the advantage over more skittery cross bikes.
The most important part of any cycling event - the feed station - was reached shortly after, heralding, as everyone remembered from last year, The Muddy Section, Sector Bogtrotters? to give it its official title. And boy was it muddy, soft, squelchy mud from the bowels of the earth (and quite the probably the bowels of a few animals too) along a narrow path which meant it was mainly single file. Then some idiot on a cross bike decided he could ride through one of the deeper slurries while everyone else walked round, a hidden obstacle later and he was wallowing in the mud like a bathing hippopotamus. I remounted, much muddier and slightly more cautious. A bit of road, then more slippery mud and grass downhillness brought us into the metropolis of Cockermouth, where the route parted company from last year’s, this year following a deceptively steep minor road up onto Whinlatter Pass. A road I recognised from the C2C some years ago, it was hard with a triple chainset; it was a lump harder on cross bike gearing. Slowly I winched myself up to the summit, getting my breath back before a welcome blast through the forest on greasy, leaf-strewn fire roads, probably the highlight of the ride for me, took us to Thornthwaite, from where it is minor roads all the way back to Keswick.
Mud-spattered and weary, we returned, in small bunches, to the park and our only disappointment of the day - we had to dismount and walk over the finish line. Elf and safety strike again? The party atmosphere in the park made up for this minor regret, live music, food stalls, free coffee, bike wash. Sitting outside the cafe, surrounded by cyclists all wearing their medals and carrying their goody bags, a quiet sense of achievement and satisfaction creeping over myself, it had been a good day, perfect weather, some gruelling hills but equally enjoyable descents, well organised and impeccably signposted. Back next year? Of course. Long one next year? Well...hmm, let’s wait and see.
