I’d enjoyed cycling a lot as a kid, but probably like a lot of people, had hardly sat on a saddle since. Then I started mountain biking. My brother in law had been a great fan since it started growing as a sport in the 90s and I borrowed a spare bike and went out on a ride with him when we were visiting family in Scotland one summer – I caught the bug. It was a great way to get out and see the countryside, experience a bit of an adrenaline rush and stay fit at the same time.
It had been a few years since my body gave up the will and capability to play rugby and I could never get enthusiastic about running, so mountain biking was a great find. Fortunately, it really was like the old adage of ‘just like riding a bike’ and it all seemed pretty natural after getting acquainted with the new gears.
Whilst I still go mountain biking, I began road biking about ten years ago. I had caught up with a few old rugby mates and we decided it would be a great idea to sign up for a 4-day organised bike trip from Chamonix to Nice over the Alps. I live in Bath and I persuaded a local friend to join the trip and we set about ‘training’ for a few months – it turns out a few Sunday jaunts round the Mendips doesn’t quite cut it as preparation for four days of Tour de France mountain stages! However, we all made it – the shared pain of the climbs, 30 minutes roller coaster downhills, stunning scenery and the constant banter (somewhat to the annoyance or our ex-pro bike guide) made it a fantastic trip.
Fast forward ten years and cycling has become an important part of my life. As you get older (I’m now the wrong side of 50), keeping active becomes more and more important both for physical and mental wellbeing, but it’s difficult to stick with it unless you find something you love doing. I think that’s why so many gym memberships and home fitness equipment gather dust after an initial period of enthusiasm.
Over the last five years a group of my friends in Bath have also become keen road cyclists and we plan a ‘big’ 4-day ride every year. We’ve ridden from Cork to the Giants Causeway in Ireland, from Verbier to Annecy taking in a tour of the Swiss Alps en route and last year’s trip was from Toulouse to Barcelona over the Pyrenees. I know they sound like quite serious rides and I’d be lying if I said there weren’t moments of soul searching on some of the hills, but serious is the last thing they are. The combination of ‘Zen-like’ periods as you cycle through stunning scenery, a sense of achievement on completing each day’s ride and above all the banter and laughs throughout the days and evenings, mean everyone is talking about the next trip as soon as the last one’s finished.
To keep the fitness up, but mainly because we love doing it, we get out for a ride most Sunday mornings even through the winter. The question of where the mid-ride coffee and bacon sarnie is going to be is always high on the agenda.
Which brings me to the 2020 Tour de Wales. This was originally planned to be a ride from Biarritz to Bilbao in June, but thanks to our little viral friend, that got blown out the water. A general sense of bereavement filtered through the group until one of the guys suggested a 3-day trip from Bath to Llandudno on the north Wales coast – we could plan it last minute around lock downs and other restrictions and it wouldn’t be a huge issue if it was cancelled last minute.
Then in early September we hit a window with decent weather and easing restrictions; one of our friends put his hand up to drive the support van and we set off from Bath early one Thursday morning heading for Hay on Wye. It was great to be out on the road, no big hills and other than a bit of ‘off-roading’ when our GPS maps got confused, it was plain sailing to Hay for a welcoming supper.
We woke nice and early on the second day feeling a bit sore but the weather was great and we were looking forward to the day. We piled down some bacon, eggs and coffee and headed out for Machynlleth at the foot of Snowdonia. The top quality road surfaces were an added bonus.
I'll admit that most of us had never been through mid-Wales and didn't really know what to expect, but to a man we were blown away with how beautiful it is.
The third morning leaving Machynlleth we headed through Snowdonia to Llandudno. We were immediately greeted with a 400m climb with 25% sections to get over the hills to Dolgellau (“Doll-geth-lie” according to our Welsh mate who took to replying ‘where’ every time we tried to pronounce any Welsh town name) – it was brutal, and a coffee and cake in the pretty town square had never been more welcome. From there the 50 miles to Llandudno was hilly, beautiful and hard in equal measure but it always gets easier when you know the end getting ever closer.
6pm Saturday we arrived safe and sound in Llandudno – job done. A quick shower and change, down for dinner and out to sample the Llandudo night life (not as simple as it sounds in these times).
Now just a happy memory but there’s next year’s trip to look forward to ………..
