Miles better
It’s Sunday 13 June and there are two weeks to go from today until the 2021 Made of Stone ride on Sunday 27 June. With a solid week of training behind me, including a 38-miler on Thursday just gone, my preparation is at last going the right way. It’s blazing hot today and if I can make it round 40-odd miles, I might be on course to complete the ride’s 50 miles in a couple of weeks.
So high is my confidence that as I clear the first proper climb of the day, Wenlock Edge’s Five Chimneys (albeit grinding my bottom gear of 39 x 28), I’m no longer thinking just about finishing Made of Stone. How fast I can do it is now on my mind. A mental lurch from last week’s ‘I’m not going to be able to ride 50 miles’ to this week’s ‘I’m going to be really fast!’, goes some way of demonstrating my emotional stability.
It’s not a race
“It’s not a race.” The words of event organiser, Paul, come back into my mind. This is my first organised ride and when I entered in April, I needed guidance as to what it was all about. My confidence was increased at Paul’s suggestion that was I actually capable of ‘racing’ when my only ambition was finishing. My chubby frame and 13 mph average speed are not typically thought of as foundations for competitive cycling success. Anyway, Made of Stone is not a race: understood.
However, I understand that to ‘race’ on the quiet, these days there’s this thing called Strava. Apparently, thanks to a smartphone app, you can do your own private time trial up a hill or a particular route, such as The Raddle (Quarry Bank) climb on the Made of Stone course.
Would you rather Strava?
If you’ve done it in a fast time, you can then go on social media to tell everyone how much better you are than them, without ever needing to actually do a real race, in real racing conditions, with a decent amount of miles already in your legs.
I can’t kid myself. If I were fast, I would do exactly the same. No Strava for me though. My smartphone is brought along on my rides to call for a taxi in the event of a mechanical or spiritual breakdown, as well as to help with the odd bit of navigation.
The hard road to Ditton Priors
Speaking of route finding, with no particular destination planned today, I headed to Stanton Long in the Corve Dale. In Midlands cycle touring circles, an old cliched debate is, of course: what’s the hardest way to cycle to Ditton Priors? When I was a youth, I remember my pops telling me that old man Dennis from the Mid-Shropshire Wheelers, the first cycling club I belonged to, said that Stanton Long was the hardest. That was the only route up to Ditton Priors I had never cycled, so today, with the legs feeling good, I wanted to test the claim.
‘Ultimately, the elevation’s the same so there can’t be that much difference whichever way you go.’ Such were the musings of a jumped-up pantry boy who never knew his place, just before the tarmac began to veer upwards. The climb starts with one of those roads with wide open fields either side that doesn’t give away the severity of the gradient. As I began to lift my front wheel off the ground with each pedal stroke, I thought, ‘ah, ha! It is quite steep!’
Dennis knows best
As the trees began, it got so steep that I had to get out of the saddle just to maintain momentum and avoid falling off. I couldn’t keep up this effort so I sat down again, but almost fell off immediately as a result of my snail’s pace. Back out of the saddle, my arms were on the verge of cramping up, such was my repeated drunken lurching from side to side. The bank just keeps on going, bending one way, then the other.
The steepest part climbs over 40 vertical metres in what feels like roughly the same distance of tarmac. The Ordnance Survey has the temerity to only award it a single chevron on the map, denoting 1:7 or less. Frankly, their inclinometer must have been broken the day they visited. The hill should come with a warning. It’s horrendous and I’m never going that way again. Dennis, you’re quite right, the debate is closed: the hardest way to Ditton Priors is from Stanton Long. The end.
Beyond good and evil
After that horrific nightmare, the following climb up the side of Brown Clee felt fairly leisurely, as did all the others that followed. Probably those that are to come in future will do too. Friedrich Nietzsche wasn’t referring specifically to cycling when he wrote “what doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger”, but thank you Uncle Fred, the same applies. Training can be as much for the mind as it can for the body.
Dropping down the Corve Dale into Craven Arms, there are tens of cyclists coming the other way. Nearly all return my cheery wave signalling the camaraderie of peddling on the highways and byways. (Only weirdos, psychopaths, and probably those engaged in a timed Strava run, deem themselves exempt from this happy custom). Afterwards when I get home, I realise there’s another organised cycling event going on today.
The benefits of Made of Stone
Before I’ve even started my own first organised cycling ride, such as those offered by RideStaffs, entering Made of Stone has already given me impetus to go cycling when I wouldn’t have otherwise done so. An old cycling chum told me last week that it’s surprising how quick it is to get fit. providing that regular rides, involving progressively longer distances at a steady pace, are completed every other day or so.
There’s no substitute for those kind of rides; the old ‘getting the miles in’. I’m reminded that the feeling of improvement that comes as a result, even in my far from ideal condition, is very satisfying.
The Wild West
From Craven Arms I begin the road up the Clun Valley, the start of Shropshire’s Wild West, then on to Hopesay. Riding as a kid, with just training in an attempt to go faster on my mind, one thing I didn’t fully appreciate was how beautiful this countryside is, and how great it is to be able to cycle amongst it. It really is a great day.
Enough of this day dreaming, I’m not home yet – on to the Col de Marshbrook. The final incline of the day has my legs wobbling but by the top I’m still full of mental zest. In the distance I can see Brown Clee hill that I passed earlier in the day. It looks miles away now. I’m back home, not quite totally destroyed, and after cycling just over 40 miles, I might very nearly be ready for Made of Stone.
Join the fun
Even if I don’t make it round the 50 miles on 27 June, or even if I don’t make it to the start line, already I’m happy that entering Made of Stone has helped me to rediscover cycling. If you haven’t entered yet, there’s still time. If I might be able to get round the route, you almost certainly will too – you can enter here. God bless RideStaffs and all who cycle with her!
