Firstly it does sound like I am going to have to buy a bigger paella pan!
It was a real pleasure hosting Bill and Bridgy for the last couple of nights, and as I said you are more than welcome to come and stay again, especially as it means our house gets an annual, epic tidy up. Next time it might get completed too, if I don't have to dash out and buy another van.
Well as promised, here's my write up, we did say we would do one each.
With bellies full of paella and a very nice wine that Bridgy kindly corrupted us with, the night before, and which we were unable to recork, we awoke at 6am, or some of us did. Bill apparently not even slightly bothered about the upcoming challenge decides to have a lie in, and only comes down when his porridge and cup of tea are ready.
Breakfast consumed, and top frame bags stuffed with everything from gels, Haribo and flapjack through to pork pie we drove the 15 minutes to The Royal Welsh Showground, and the start line. It was nice to see that nearly 200 competitors were prepared to suffer the DD this year, which is considerably higher than the turnout last year, which was undoubtedly due mainly to the inclement weather. The sun was shining when we mounted our trusty carbon steeds, and at 8:05am, under police escort, we were lead through Builth Wells to the foot of our initial climb. The ride commences with about 5-6 miles of steady undulating climb, taking in one 16%'er after about 2 miles. Up onto the Epynt military (non-live thankyou AAAC) range, and the three of us were in a nice tidy little group, but Bridgy was already, even at this early stage making his superiority known. I was ok, but definately riding a few watts above how I would have started out, had I been alone. But the drafting was helping to compensate for this, and some of the sections we drafted, were cycling poetry. Whoever was feeling strong would pull to the front, and the others were able to literally coast along tucked in nice and tight behind. Taking in the breathtaking scenery was dangerous, but a necessary risk. About 40 miles in we dropped into a valley, and rode along the side of it, with the Devil's Staircase looming up in front of us, about 5 miles ahead and in clear view.
I think at this stage we were all consciously saving a bit for the 25% ahead.
We all arrived at the Staircase together and all hit it in the closest we had to a granny gear. It was hard not to pull a wheelie, due to the low gearing, and steepness, and by the time we had got round the first two switchbacks, the legs were really burning. It's only about 500-600m long, but we were all chuffing like trains at the top. The 25% decline on the other side was a welcome sight, and we all powered down it. I think my history of substance abuse and over indulgence with Class A's in my youth, paid dividends when it came to the downhill sections, Bridgy and Bill were on the brakes whilst I tried desperately to get stretchered away for a second year running, by demonstrating a blatant disregard to my own safety.
We stayed together for the next 10 miles, whereupon we came across my wife, niece and two sons making all manner of commotion. With rattles, biscuit tins and youthful lungs, the four of them managed to pretty much replicate the finish at Cardiff Velothon, on their own. We all gladly filled our water bottles, as it was a balmy 20C, and we were very conscious of staying well hydrated, and as we ate bananas and flapjack, the next few groups of cyclists pulled over and started to ask for all manner of supplies, which my two young boys delighted in providing. Like some manic car boot sale my two lads pretty much emptied our days supplies into the gathering horde of cyclists. I did eventually pipe up and tell them this was an unnofficial stop, and the masses eventually dispersed, leaving my wife's car on bricks!
The next food stop was only about 5 miles on, and we coasted straight past it, as we had already taken on fuel. Then it was down to the nitty gritty of the middle section. Lots more undulating hills and dips, and at about 70 miles in Bridgy started to open up a bit of gap from Bill and I. We caught him up at the next food stop, and after a hasty banana, welsh cake and bottle refill, we all set off together again. Bridgy had more in the tank than Bill or I, and once again he started to open up a gap. It was only later I realised that Bill wasn't flirting with me at all, when he kept sticking his bum out and wiggling it at me, he was actually having some serious seat bone issues.
Bill and I settled our pace down a little bit at this stage, very aware, once again, of the imminent Devil's Elbow, and the need to save something for it. If we had tried to stay with Bridgy any longer we would both have definately cooked ourselves at this stage, and with at least 45 miles to go, that was a scary prospect. The lead up to the Elbow is an unpleasant climb of about 2 miles on it's own, and liking my hills I opened up a small gap on Bill, and was able to see Bridgy halfway up the Elbow above me. I think this may have spurred me on a bit, and I threw quite a lot into that climb. I went past a couple of guys on the ascent, but with 80 miles in the legs already, I was Mr. Jelly by the time I made the summit. Bill was taking a much more measured, and sensible approach to the climb, and despite many others walking several of the climbs, all three of us pedalled up every one. Not saying the folks walking weren't going faster, but that's not the point.
The descent from the Devil's Elbow, was a lovely drawn out steady drop, through a mix of open common land and country lanes, high up in the Brecon Beacons. I emerged onto the A470 and turned left towards the reservoirs, with neither Bridgy in sight ahead of me, nor Bill behind. Apparently, we weren't high enough in the Brecon Beacons, and the road rose gently up in front of me, for about 6 or 7 miles. To compound the problem there was a stiff wind in my face, and this was probably more sapping than all the previous climbs added together. As I crested one rise, I could see Bridgy in the distance about a mile and a half ahead, and decided to try and close the gap. What I actually managed to do was make the gap bigger. The heart was saying yes, the legs were saying "p*ss off!"
I then saw Bridgy pull over and start doing the funky chicken on the side of the road, way ahead of me, dig deep, and catch him was the new goal. I caught up with him, pulled over, and he explained he was just getting rid of a bit of foot numbness. A quick swig of water, and we took off together again, this time with me tucked in behind him, sheltering from the wind and benefiting from a very welcome draft. This 'benefit' lasted for about 200m, before I let him go, I just didn't have the legs to stay with him, so I slowed my pace looked over my shoulder, and there on my back wheel was Bill, grinning from ear to ear. He must have put in a Herculean effort up the seriously windy climb, to close the gap, and if Bridgy had looked over his shoulder he would probably have reunited the Three Bkoolers, but rightly so, he was on stronger legs and was off down the road.
After what seemed like an eternity we began the drop down to the Storey Arms, a pub which also signifies a 10 mile downhill section into Brecon. I was out of water by now, and when Bill and I saw Mary going in the opposite direction, with all manner of arms, legs, rattles and noise, I waved at her and signified I needed water. Bill and I pulled into a layby, threw our bikes in the hedge, ate from our top boxes, which now pretty much just contained mush and stretched our aching legs. After about 6 -7 minutes and a lot of cursing and idle threats about divorce (she's way out of my league as it is, I could never do better) we saw a couple of groups of cyclists go by. This doesn't sit at all well with the likes of Bill nor I, so we just got on our bikes and took off again. Turns out Mary couldn't turn round, and when she did, she decided to buy icecreams....a real snub to our immense suffering if ever there was one. She eventually came hurtling by, with more legs and arms and horn beeping, and swerved like a pissed up boy racer into a layby just ahead of us. We hastily refilled bottles, wolfed down some banana, shook my head disapprovingly at two young boys with massive ice cream beards, and off we went again.
Turns out the next food stop was a mile further downhill, and according to Bridgy was the best of all of them. We sailed straight past it, having just eaten and drunk, and apparently missed Bridgy by minutes. We wove our way through Brecon, and started out on the roller coaster 20 mile road home to Builth Wells. About 10 minutes after I spouted a load of bo**ocks about not thinking we had bonked, but that we just had tired legs, we most certainly, and without question BONKED!
It is fair to say that with about 17 miles to go, both Bill and I were f*cked! Neither of us wanted to lead the draft, which turned into a bit of a snail race, with us both remaining pretty much stationary. But we literally talked ourselves up and on, and kept telling ourselves ANYONE can cycle 17 miles. Bill reminded me of the one big 16% pig of a hill between us and home, and by the time it came into sight we had pretty much psyched ourselves up for it. But it was evil, pure evil. Mary, my Neice and the two boys were at the top cheering, and we threw ourselves into it. I swear it was their support that got me up that bloody hill, I couldn't let my wife see me pushing my bike up it, nor my two boys. I can honestly say, I had feck all left by the time I crested that hill. My ass was killing me, and felt like I had been sitting on a seat of nails for the last 7 3/4 hours. I would love to say it was downhill all the way home then....but it wasn't! The small rises between me and salvation may as well have been the bloody Staircase again. But we made it....and Bill and I after a poorly coordinated, slightly effeminate high five, fell off our bikes, and crawled into HQ for a welcome bowl of soup and a cheese bap.
I remember quite clearly saying, never again....EVER. But that was yesterday, and today I am ready to sign up again. It was an absolute pleasure to have the company of both Bill and Bridgy, and as I have said to both of them, they are more than welcome to join us again, for the next DD, or sooner if they so desire. And thankyou Bill for your broad shoulders and unrelenting will, that helped me home, I am very appreciative.
I hope I haven't put anyone off?
I think this would be a marvellous event for the Bkoolers to sign up to, and please note, that at about 70 miles, there is an option to miss out the Elbow, and do a 95 mile course. This is a decision you make on the day, or if you want to try it first, then maybe do the biggy the year after. But my sister-in-law has a very nice campsite on their farm, with great facilities, hard standings, hook ups etc, or there are several hotels of various qualities which will gladly receive the less adventurous. We can all get together before and after for a nice meal etc and social gathering, and regale one another with our tales of bravoury and endeavour on the course, or maybe even discuss Bill's bum wiggle technique further.
Sorry if I have waffled on too long......but it's just that once I started.....
I will need some reassurances before i venture west next year, preferably from bridgy.
. I'm glad your weekend was such a, qualified success (sore legs and other parts excepted), 
. If I can drop a large chunk of weight over the rest of the year I may join you next time 
.
. No riding due to call out work 
. Already been given 2 jobs in a restricted access site for after 5:30 tonight 
