Have read more of the thread. Am even more amazed at your interest.
Frank's updates on our sleeping and thinking was bang on the nail. Mcshroom lives in the Lakes so packing up there was always better than struggling and packing in Pocklington or Market Rasen which would have left a long and expensive trip home. Also he has mates helping at controls up there. He'll do it next time. We were together for many hours on the early stages and drafted each other, but he was often faster than me.
With hindsight I would not have spent a night in the Enfield
Travelodge which was so hot I was dripping sweat all night and slept for three hours max. So many of us started already tired. And I would have made an effort to get over Yad Moss in the day and do the Lockerbie road in the dark, it's flat and straight and impossible to go wrong on the nav. And I would have thought much more about the implications of arriving, as I did, at Moffat as it closed, leaving me with maybe a five or six hour ride over big hills to Edinburgh to certainly arrive as it closed, so no sleep there, and be faced with 170k to the next beds. Making a day of more than 300k.
But all I did was pay my money, ride the bike a bit - sometimes with mates in the land of Johnny Foreigner - and rock up on the morning armed only with a steely determination to enjoy the ride. Which I did. i absolutely loved it. At the start Charlotte (OTP) took my photograph. I asked if I looked fit and determined. She said: "You look terrified."
But the truth is that much of the time I was a quivering wreck struggling with exhaustion. The Howardian Hills are sometimes 18% gradients and we all walked them, even the tough Finnish machine. On Yad Moss at midnight my chain came off the front cogs and - oh joy - also jammed in the back cassette. I was all wobbly and dizzy and needed to lean against the bike to stop myself falling over while I used a handful of grass to stop getting grease all over my fingers and extricate the thing. No tears were shed in the freeing of that chain but very, very nearly. And in some godforsaken tiny village at 1am somewhere I had to stop and sit on a wall and drink some water to have a rest as I simply couldn't go on. It was a real struggle and I was dwarfed by the challenge. I'm sure others will be along later with great tales of derring do, but for me it was a humbling experience, because sometimes on hard audaxes in the long night hours you get to look into your soul and you don't always like what you see.