Brant and Slape - 200Km - 6th October 2018

Or Steep and Slippy in Standard English this was going to be a tough ride with 3.75 AAA points on offer in 200km.

Robbie and Élaina collected me from work on Friday afternoon after work and we arrived at the School in Troutbeck Bridge in time for Tea before sitting speaking to Organizer Paul and other riders who had arrived to make use of either the car park or the Gym hall.

Sleeping in a school gym hall in a makeshift bed in one aspect of these Audaxes that I hadn't yet experienced although it was a bit quieter than I expect to find on more popular rides in future.

With riders rising and arriving in the morning for porridge and flapjack the day was looking to be a cracking clear Autumnal day, a chilly wind was blowing lightly from the north and the overnight dampness was providing the "Slape" road surfaces.  We set off on what looked like a lakeside road but alas as usual and just like coastal roads, lakeside roads neither follow the lake nor stay at the height of the lakeside much! 

We undulated in the vicinity of the lake, faster riders including Robbie were ahead of me and slowly drifting ahead and I know David and Steve to be stronger riders too which comforted me as my legs gave me the warning discomforts of starting off too hard into a ride.

Paul's wife was found at Fell Foot stamping our Brevet cards at the first control just before the first proper climb of the day and Robbie had decided to wait back for me before the climb.
What a climb it was, rising sharply from Fell Foot, we gained 170m in 1.5km at an average gradient of 11.7%; I could make excuses such as it being early in the morning, it being an early first climb, I'd hardly woken up; I stopped for a photo when a fantastic view over the lake appeared over my left shoulder, there was no way I was going to get a picture from the bike while I was trying to keep the front wheel on the tar!

The brief respite taken I carried on to the top of the rise where the route showed it's first hand; a long descent on narrow, twisty, brant and slape roads took us down to Bowland Bridge, a village lower than Windermere is! From here just as it says on my Mukyz top, the "Only way is up!".
Another short climb took us to the top of the descent into Kendal where struck for Tebay on one of the gentler climbs of the day; after a short descent into the narrow valley where the M6 and our minor road follow the River Lune we returned to the order of the day and took the long drag up towards Kirby Stephen which of course is at the foot of a sharp descent!

With the amount of climbing already undertaken being over the 1000m mark in only 70km we had managed to average 20kmh, rather lower than we are used to from "hilly" Scottish rides.
Aware of our lack of time despite making decent progress on the way into Kirkby Stephen we controlled at the first shop we found which was the Spar; unfortunately Spar's lunch offerings are rather more basic than a Co-Op and neither of us were particularly satisfied, however we had the all important receipt for proof of passage. Other riders rolled into town as we were preparing to dodge the queue of traffic waiting at the lights by leading the bikes through the bottleneck so we took some little solace from this.

Now it was time for one of the highlight climbs, we weaved ourway along narrow country lanes with a grand view of the A66 threading through one gap to the north and a wall of hill everywhere else; we of course were about to climb that wall.
Starting with a set of switchbacks advertised as 20% after crossing the River Belah we were then facing a more prolonged but not much easier dig up to Barras where the climbing relented as the moor opened up and the profile returned to "Undulating".

Despite being an info control it would have been rude not to stop for a drink at the Tan Hill Inn so we sat in the shelter of the pub drinking Coke and taking advantage of the heat in the sun that was causing us to switch between wishing we had summer gear on, and wishing we were set up for a winter expedition.  Our average speed was plummeting and we set off again with little chance to improve it for the next section of road was the Sleightholme moor road a rough track surfaced mostly with loose aggregate punctuated by craters and the odd patch of tarmac. 
Gaetan had passed the pub with a short info collection and we could see his Hi-Vis jacket out on the track as we descended towards the turn, the road turned out to be slightly worse than my Geograph investigation had revealed possibly due to recent rain filling the craters, we eventually caught Gaetan and Robbie having a bit more experience riding skinny tyres off road through CX shot off into the distance while I picked my way between the puddles, piles of gravel and mud at one point being too uncomfortable to check he wasn't behind me cut Gaetan off as I picked a route round a puddle that was the width of the road!

Finally we found tar near Bowes and I could give my aching hands a rest from death gripping the hoods; this also presented the start of a fast descent down to Barnard Castle where we managed to salvage some time though not enough to be comfortable to take Paul's recommendation to sup at the chip shop.  We agreed to raid Gregg's and to our horror discovered the receipts don't state the location!  This meant wasting time hobbling up to the Co-Op for their reliable receipt format.

Back on the road and it was the start of a long climb up to the Stang 11km averaging 5.7%; which sounds tame compared to the rest of the day but the last 2km averages 10% and peaks at 16% on the switchbacks in the forest. As we struggled up to the summit an old couple parked up and taking in the view cheered us onwards. Thankfully the descent to the CB Inn proved to only be steep but by this stage in the day 5 minutes at 30kmh+ doesn't equate to gaining much on your average speed, and for all that mattered we were launched back into a climb for the next 2km that was only slightly less viscous than the Stang.  A large dip in the road took us over a bridge next to a slape looking ford before a good descent from Surrender Bridge into Swaledale, taking the route avoiding Crackpot and a relatively gentle run to Muker for our final Control of the day.  Thankfully the shop was still open, self service has never taken over this shops operations and a wall of food options was presented for our selection; spying the Tunnocks Tea cakes the treat was obvious, unfortunately they don't walk out the door at a similar rate to in Scotland and so sadly the biscuit was slightly stodgy and the cream a bit deflated just like my physical state.


It was now time for the last major climb of the day, the Buttertubs pass, linking Swaledale with Cotterdale it's a tough one!  Just to add insult to the tired legs, worn resolve and teacake disappointment the whirring noise of an electrically assisted folding bicycle was heard behind and then shortly afterwards ahead as we turned onto the Buttertubs before it disappeared into the distance above us.
The sun was setting directly ahead of us compounding the problems the gradients presented, three Kilometres of climbing relentlessly into the blazing sun, three kilometers averaging 9.5% on the face of it we'd already done this steepness before, but the >20% ramps posed the extra challenge.

On the speed graph the change from pedal power to pedestrian power is hardly noticeable, nearing the top of the first steep drag I switched from a seated grind to honking, unfortunately with this change came the need to still see where I was going, the blazing sun directly in my face taking this away from me in my standing position and I put my cleated foot on the ground.  I walked to where the climb eased off again and got back on, I got a decent enough speed up in the dip before facing the last challenge of the climb; in the shadow of the dip, no sunlight for an excuse the road rose at 25% to climb out over the summit; and now for the fifth time this year and first time this season I put cleats to tarmac and walked.  I ran over in my mind the day of the Bealach Beag now many years ago as I crawled up the main drag, the road closure car at the head of a line of riders in sight all the way from behind me to the top of the hairpins, and in close quarters to me the words "Sod it" being uttered followed by the sound of cleats clicking away into the distance behind; today that was me.

Another fast descent took us into Cotterdale but hardly dented our diminished average speed, another hill like the last few would almost certainly have dropped us below the 15kmh average but we knew that was the last of the big climbs; the road rose gently up Cotterdale and then we forked into Garsdale, finally the watershed!
The 20km ride from Garsdalehead to Sedberg finally allowed us to gain a bit more time on our average, and we stopped for a rest and to allow Robbie to check in with Élaina who was waiting at the Arriveé for us before starting the climb over to Kendal.

With only 30km to go the mental boost of being not far from the end was tempered by the knowledge that we still had to drag ourselves over to Kendal and then again to Windermere; more short steep ramps were presented to us, although 10% less steep than on the Buttertubs this was a tough ask this far into such a hilly ride.  Another short rest at Kendal after being blinded by the work lamps of a breakdown truck on the roll in, and the final climb of the day started. A miss-direction on a roundabout saw us stick to the busy main road into Windermere, missing out on the presumably nicer Crook road.  The final descent into Troutbeck Bridge was at last reached and Robbie managed to maintain more speed on the narrow cyclepath we had picked up at Ings as cars climbing the hill partly blinded us.  I was now navigating off of memory of landmarks, the closed pub near the bottom of the hill that I'd memorized as being near the School gates distracted me from turning into the school gates and I had to make a late correction to bump onto the access path; naughty I know, I could at least pretend to plead ignorance if anyone challenged me; what do you mean you don't have land access rights!

Robbie had stopped just through the gates to wait for me and we rolled into the Arriveé together after 12 and a half hours riding what we both reckoned to be the hardest rides we'd done so far.  The soup and Crumble that Paul had laid on for finishers was well earnt.