Alston and Back - 13 April 2019

Something wasn't right, my bike was flying along the A7 nicely at this quiet hour, I was out on my own having been the only one to respond sharply to Lucy's statement advising us we could go, my feet were turning the pedals nicely but my stomach was starting to complain about something.
Was it the huge bowl of Shreddies I'd scoffed at half 4, or the huge Smash burger I'd had for tea the night before? It's irrelevant really.

A couple of riders caught up with me and I had a small dig to try and hang on and I discovered Robbie was just behind, we whizzed towards the first ramp of the day at Selkirk where I knew I'd start going backwards. I dropped the gears and started to climb at my normal slow pace, riders flew past as they always do, I'm used to this.

Cold

The sharp climbing finally comes to an end not too far out of Selkirk just after the SBR riders pass me on the climb, I pass them on the descent thanks to the function of gravity that is also partly related to my lack of speed on the climbs but they reel me in on the flat not long after and I don't hang on as the road climbs through Ettrickbridge.
I've chosen to ride the steel bike with guards today with my only usable rear wheel fitted a fact I'm slightly unnerved by, the Hunt still to come back from replacement and the Mavic, well they asked for a picture of the serial number mid-week and I've heard nothing since.

Moustache freezing cold conditions

My stomachs complaining again if it's bad well there's trees out here in the Ettrick Valley, the road undulates along either side and across the middle but it's not tough to climb.  The chill in the air is giving me something to distract from the discomfort with, my left hand exposed most to the cold wind from the south is very cold, I've picked the wrong gloves for the chill opting for mits over my DeFeet Duras, fine when the temperature is just above zero, it must be under.  Douglas catches up and chats for a bit, exclaiming that it must be -4 because that's when his Moustache freezes, and it's frozen.

Climbing to the summit

The odd rider flies past without talking, having got up to their cruising speed faster enough than mine. I'm just waiting for the Ettrick marshes before the summit and thinking of the conditions last time I rode up here on the "Long Dark Teatime", my hand hurts but the road is dry and the view is crisp. Riding through Ettrick where the 500m ford had risen between the first rider passing though and I at the rear I turned over the river on the bridge and followed the Tima into the forest.  The signs denoting the march appear above be at last, sadly this is no long fast descent, potholes in some places looking like chasms to hell opening need to be dodged, broken cattle grids to pick a line over, it could be so much faster a descent but it isn't.  The road levels out and on occasion climbs, I know where I am and I know it's not far now, the Tibetan Centre appears to my left, it's a couple of Ks to the old school now.




I roll the bike onto a stand and make a beeline for the WC, I exit very much relieved and quite shocked at my fingers being white but the palm red, I usually don't get here able to eat but I decide I can.  After breakfast 2 I set off again, I'm convinced the wind's picked up while I was in there but at least there's some heat in the sun now, exactly how long was I in there for?

It's not far to the next control at Langholm, with a few more testing hills to conquer but I'm soon rolling through Bentpath and then into town.  No need to eat anything from the shop here so I grab a receipt from the ATM and crack on for Gretna.  I'm not a fan of this next section some long drawn out climbs that slow you down and a reasonable amount of cross border traffic. I see a sign for Glenzierburn and remember that this is a great example of the English and Scots spellings of the same name, it distracts me from the traffic at least. It's also where one of the few sections of the Scotland/England border is denoted not by a river but by a dyke build for the purpose.

I start reciting the first few verses of the Battle of Otterburn in my ear worm, we're on the wrong side of the island but it doesn't matter it's something to keep me going on this relatively boring bit of the A7 as a wait for the junction to Gretna to appear, I remember the wrong junction but it's not signed as Gretna so I know its not the one, as Longtown appears just up a slight rise the junction arrives.

The Gretna Dog Leg

We've got this little dogleg to get the distance up and it's the first time I get a chance since Eskdalemuir to judge how I'm going, I pass the SBR group and Douglas, no sign of Robbie so I know there's a fast group on the front that have already set off for Alston.  The plan was to eat a pastry or something here, but I forget and grab sweets and juice, I'm not really feeling like I want food anyway.
Control bounced and I'm back at the junction, there's many riders still on their way into Gretna, the next waypoint is Brampton and it's signed all the way.

SBR Riders on the descent from Brampton

As I approached Brampton I remember my navigational error last year on the 600 so I load up the map not that it helps much as the fault was on the return.  It's a long straight drag into the South Easterly wind but I'm hardly noticing, maybe it's the clicking from my Bottom Bracket distracting me from it?

On the climb out of Brampton I was looking forward to Hallbankgate where the road sign proudly proclaims "Local Shop", I had decided to investigate and have lunch here.  I roll down the drive way and wander through the shop grabbing some sweets and a drink, when I got to the counter I realized how tired I was, and forgot about lunch.  The small sitting area was a perfect rest, my right foot had started hurting for no reason on the climb out of Brampton so getting weight off it was necessary.  Just the long climb to Alston now, at Midgeholm we leave Cumbria and enter Northumberland, picking up the South Tyne, the road runs alongside an old railway line with the bridges still in tact, and in the section from Slaggyford to Alston there is a narrow gauge railway on the trackbed.  A slight distraction from the line, as I climb I spot a large group seconds too late to get a picture, Robbie's on the front, this can only be the lead riders there's been no one else.

As I climb the odd rider appears on their return journey, it's a long climb and a fast descent so the closeness of the other riders is deceptive to position but there's a lot of riders.  Carolyn and Leighn catch up with me, and then stop to fix a puncture, I pass a rider I had seen on the way into Gretna on the climb, not long out of Slaggyford the steep corner appears, the ramp appearing to reach for the sky in front as you approach on a tangent, I take the curve and see it's not as bad as it looks as I struggle up, but that's it it's downhill gently now to the bridge below Alston and a gentle dig up to the petrol station where Dave's group who were at Gretna when I got there were still eating.

I grabbed a ridiculous stash of food from the shop and planted myself on the bags of wood in the bunker to eat and let my right foot calm down, a chicken sandwich, hot sausage roll, can of coke and two chocolate eclaires, surely enough to get me back to Eskdale.  The other riders roll in for their control.

No one rides 50x11...

I persuade myself that it's time to go, I give the bike a kick out of the garage and in no time am saying good afternoon to a couple of gentlemen passing the time of day on the seats at the war memorial, seconds later I'm telling them I went the wrong way, that's twice I've done that.  After the gentle climb to the summit I'm picking my way between potholes at high speed, laughing within myself at people who proclaim that 1x is great and no one rides in the 50x11... The potholes are stopping me pushing up to spin out speed.






I take a mental note of who I'm passing now, Edwin is not far out of Alston, Cory is just out of Slaggyford and a woman in Cycology gear that I don't recognise who is definitely a Randonneur (who else would have only a Carradice Barley for luggage?) is entering Slaggyford, it's Half 3 in the afternoon, they've got time but it's going to be a late return for them.

Suddenly I'm flying towards the Brampton bypass, I get across cleanly and then back up to speed into town where a tourist bus gets in my way.  Last time I missed the turn and was nearly back on the bypass but I find it fine this time, I'm back in the 50x11 and on the flat run to Longtown, definitely not 1x territory.  I'm feeling good again and my foot isn't hurting either.

Longtown, onto the A7, junction on the left for Glingerbank, past the border house, Scotland, Glenzierburn, as I said great example of the difference between Scots and English for the same name, the "Z" is actually a Ȝ, when the printing press came to Scotland they didn't come with the letter Yough and with Z being quite rare in Scots,the typesetters didn't bother to get the symbol cast, the legacy of which is a hodgepodge of mispronunciations of places such as Edzell, Menzies, Lenzie, Cadzow and Dalziel, some have become the norm others still get you a WTF stare.

Back at Eskdalemuir

Two big lumps to Langholm and I'm there, cash machine again, I faff with my wallet and Leighn and another rider roll in. After getting his receipt he asks me about hub generators forgetting to take his card, an inconvenience.  Roll on out of Langholm and it's mostly up, the odd undulation  giving a bonus descent, back through pretty village of Bentpath, one big lump to tea.  Carolyn and Leighn pass, I tell Leighn about his card as they do, he checks. Bugger he did.
They're faster than me, I know this so don't try and hang on but just before Eskdalemuir I see them fixing another puncture, another 500m...



I roll into the hub again, Dave's group are in and eating as are plenty of others, Leighn and Carolyn roll in not long after me.
We're all eating tea, Pasta Bolognese and cake for me, others have the Cheese Quiche. I take another toilet stop, the lights go out twice while I'm in there which makes things interesting, next time I'll have my head torch!

Still daylight past the summit

I return to an empty café and the staff have assumed I'd left my lid and bottles so have put them to the side briefly confusing me, how long was I in there! It looks like it was 20 minutes.  Another rider rolls in as I leave it's till daylight and the climb is a bit lumpy but nothing too steep, I make it to the top in daylight, it's mostly downhill now but with a few small climbs to spoil things. As light fell I became aware that my front light was pointing too low but I never got round to digging the Torx keys out until I couldn't ride the road at a decent speed. I stopped to dig the head torch and keys out, as I got the light where I wanted I looked back up the valley, there were no lights behind me.

I passed the Tushielaw and Crosskeys pubs, the transmitters on the hills round Selkirk crept closer in the darkness, I decided for once to use Lucy's suggestion to ride over to the Yarrow for the return to avoid the steep hill on the road into Selkirk, it felt weird turning back to the West but the run into Selkirk was all the nicer, over the bridge turning past the old sign of Galashiels, at the edge of the Industrial estate I judged the traffic on the A7 and decided to use the cycle path route, the kerb at the end of the old bridge nearly caught me out again, once through the bollards I just want to turn left like on a normal junction rather than carry on to the kerb line and then turn, I fixed it in time to not have a large shudder as I turned.  I'd hoped for another half 10 finish if not earlier but that possibility was gone.

I saw a red light shining up the hill ahead of me and it was getting closer, I caught and passed another rider who has been there or thereabouts with me all day, but riding to a different pattern, he told me he was knackered and I could hear it in his voice.  When we arrived at the finish I wasn't speaking much sense, tiredness hit quickly but I got some food in me. Robbie had been waiting a long time, I had suggested he take the key to the accommodation up in Lauder but he didn't want to do the climb!