The last few weeks have been saturated with all things cycling, I was lucky enough to see the Tour of Britain come through Wantage with a group of friends, bit of fund raising on turbo trainers outside our local Sainsbury store and then the Wiggle French Resistance Sportive. I have not been riding as much as I would have liked this summer but the flurry of activity in September has almost made up for that.
Phil Tynan and I drove down to Dover on 13h September with our bikes, sunglasses and not much else, we were looking forward to riding in France the following day on what was reputed to be a hilly course over 75 miles. Steve Penny also entered but discovered he was double booked and couldn’t make it (there is always next year mate). Upon arriving at the Premier Inn we negotiated with the receptionist over bike storage, the toss-up was between the laundry room and our own room, we just had to pretend that the subject hadn’t been raised and a blind eye was turned! Nice to see there is a bit of common sense still left in the world.
A quick student wash later we were out on the town, and what a town! Needless to say we kept to the main streets and eventually ended up in Weatherspoons; 2 pints each and 2 steak dinners all for £18, can’t complain at that. We aimed for the hotel bar for one more then got our heads down early, the alarm had been set for 5am.
5am arrived after what seemed like 2 minutes of sleep. All our gear was prepped and checked so we made our way to the check in car park, a 10 minute walk away. The plan was to get riders registered and then lead them via a motor convoy to the ferry terminal. This worked well and we were queuing at the bottom of the ferry ramp for the 7:35am sailing. One whole deck was given over to bikes, I was glad I had kept my trainers on at this point as the deck looked a bit dicey, plenty of people sliding around in cleats.
I’m not the best sailor in the world and the force 10 outside was messing with my inner ear creating motion sickness in a jiffy. Phil reckoned that it was flat as a mill pond but I beg to differ, the waves must have been rolling to a massive 30cm high; I felt crap. There was nothing for it, I shovelled in croissant and coffee, after a while I began to feel a bit better. The crossing was about an hour and a half; I have no idea how the staff work on board, they must have cast iron stomachs! We picked up our timing chip, made sure we had some cash and our passports then settled back for the remainder of the trip.
Leaving the ferry at Calais was very efficiently managed. Once again, a rolling convey was formed to get the 700 riders to the start point. We dumped our ruck sacks in the secure area and then made our way to the start. Riders set off in small groups; at this point I was struck by how well things were organised and how much I was looking forward to riding in the French countryside.
We left Calais and headed west to Sangatte, the wind was behind us and the high quality road surfaces made going really easy. At one point we were cruising at 25mph, admittedly legs were fresh and the conditions were helping us but it still felt great. Hitting the right cadence and flying along with little fatigue. I reminded myself that we had a hilly ride ahead to avoid blowing up too early.
The first 20 miles were lumpy but nothing to write home about. The feed stations were located at the 20 and 47 mile marks, usually I am ready to stop at the first one but I was a little surprised when we rounded a corner and there it was! I was still feeling good with no sign of the adductor niggle that had been bothering me for the last month. A couple of Brioche and a banana later improved things no end, we were off again.
The wind and the hills now became a factor, the next 27 miles made for extremely pleasant, rural riding but my tank was beginning to run down a little. The road surfaces were still excellent (putting ours to shame); I can honestly say that apart from one farm track, I didn’t see a single pot hole. The second feed stop was a welcome sight, we got some food down, refilled bottles and got a photo sorted. I wanted to stretch my back before we left so I found a patch of grass. The first attempt found me lying on a lump of something so I shifted over only to find another lump of something else screwing its way into my lower back. The third attempt suddenly saw the light bulb go on, I hadn’t taken my phone and spare tube out of my jersey pocket – wassock.
The wind didn’t really let up but we found a renewed vigour, the realisation that we were riding in France, where cycling is almost religion, added to the enjoyment. The locals appreciated our awful efforts to say hello in French, everything was very relaxed. The only places that appeared to be open were Brasseries and Tabacs; one rider took advantage of this and was sat outside a small Tabac with a Stella in his hand. Sunday is a family day in France it would appear, maybe we should take a leaf out of their book.
I thought the big hills had been done by the first half of the ride but was very wrong about this. Two of the steeper climbs were on switch backs and the last climb toward Sangatte was a long straight one, with the sea on our left, it reminded me of the west coast of the Isle of Wight. I had plenty left in my legs but was slightly disappointed that I could feel the adductor complaining on the climbs. Wiggle’s sense of humour manifests itself in roadside signs or paint on the road, helpful comments such as ‘Dig Deep’ followed by ‘Dig Deeper’. At the top of the last climb we were greeted with a cheery ‘Chapeau’ and the option of a gel which I did take. We both agreed that finishing the ride in good shape was preferable to trying to thrash the last 10 miles for a time. I was grateful for this, I think my back would’ve suffered in addition to making the leg niggle worse.
Despite the headwind, we felt good riding through Sangatte. The town was out in force for what looked like a carnival. I had worried about riding on the other side of the road beforehand but this never seemed to be an issue, almost intuitive. I did make one mistake way out in the country where I turned right ending up on the left hand side of the road. I realised quickly and crossed back over after checking all round, getting cleaned up from behind would have been a school boy error!
Sangatte came and went, we pushed on easily as the end of the ride approached. Small aches and pains melted away as we cruised into the finish funnel and rolled over the timing mat. It would have been good to stretch and get some drink down but the next ferry was ready to board. We collected our medal and finishers t shirt then made our own way back to the terminal. Once again, gale force winds and high seas (Phil’s idea of a mill pond) messed up my sense of balance, but some food soon settled things down. Both of us took a recovery product and kept drinking on the ferry. I have a great picture of Phil with a well-deserved pint of Stella (well it does contain water!).
All in all a very enjoyable day and a ride that I would happily do again. Wiggle’s organisation was superb and I felt the £65 price tag was extremely reasonably (the finishers shirt is really good quality). Phil did all the driving, I know how I felt when we got home just after 10pm on the Sunday, he must have been completely knackered given all the extra concentration behind the wheel.
http://www.ukcyclingevents.co.uk/events/wiggle-french-resistance-sportive/
That is probably that for 2014, bring on the new sportive season in 2015!
Further reading…..
If you liked this blog please take a moment to check out my book describing the solo Land’s End to John O’Groats ride in 2012, all profit from sales to www.criduchat.org.uk
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