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Training for the Transatlantic Way Race

It’s 03:48am and I’m sat in my bivvy bag under a bush in the middle of a housing estate in Chepstow. Some would find this experience a bit weird, but me, I frickin’ love it.

How do you start training for a multi-day endurance race like the Transatlantic Way Race? Yes, you need a decent general fitness (I say decent, and I mean just decent - more on that later), but there are so many other factors that play a part in the bigger picture when considering the challenge of a multi-day event.

For me, it began with drive. A drive to be different; to do something no-one that lives and cycles by me has done before. A drive to push myself to the limit both physically but much more importantly, mentally. I want to push myself to the limit, to try and find out (if I can) what that limit looks and feels like. I’m sure it hurts in that ‘place’, but it’s got to be worth finding out what’s there, right?

Fitness is a strange one. In my experience of some of these bigger challenges, you need to be fit, and be able to suffer physically, but mental resiliency is way more important. You need to be able to take your body to the dark places it has to go, and then tell it to shut up and carry on. I truly believe it’s a skill that can be trained, but only by pushing yourself out of that comfort zone (cafe zone? :) ) and getting out there. I’ve had to do a lot of long, tough solo rides this year on weekends when numerous other cyclists I could have gone out with were riding to cafes and chilling. I enjoy riding in a group or with other people, but there’s great value to riding solo sometimes, particularly given The Transatlantic Way race will be a solo effort. That’s what lead me to this training ride.

Setting off Friday night for a 650km training ride was a bit surreal. I was actually a little nervous beforehand, not really knowing how my setup and new bike would fare over that distance, and whether my body would last. Whilst TAWR is known for it’s hills, the 650km route I had planned was actually hillier than the same distance I would be covering in Ireland. I’d done this on purpose - better to find out now of any issues before the race next month.

My route skirted the Malvern Hills, and headed South through quiet lanes to Ledbury and Ross-on-Wye. Despite it being the start of a bank holiday, the roads were very quiet which was nice.

I arrived at the Wye Valley in total darkness, which is on one hand a real shame, as it’s a beautiful part of the world. On the other hand, it’s the first time I’d been there and heard the sounds and seen the sights that night bring to the area. Wildlife was still abundant, with a few foxes and a badger spotted!

Heading into Symonds Yat, I started the Official 100 Climbs (actually on the second list of Another 100 Greatest Cycling Climbs) - Number 107, Symonds Yat Rock. The climb is quite tough - a steep ramp from the start, and fairly unrelenting until the top. In the dark it seemed pretty never ending without the ability to see far ahead!

After reaching the top and a quick descent into Coleford, I made some time up and sped through the Wye Valley and further South to Chepstow.

Aside from one of my mudguard mounting rails coming loose due to the abysmal surfaces, the rest of the ride towards Chepstow was pleasant, with rolling hills and fast flowing descents.

Descending the last hill into Chepstow I was afforded a nice view of the Severn Bridge lit up.

Arriving into Chepstow and finding the hall where Brevet Cymru started later that morning (it was around 3am, and the audax started at 6am), I set up my bivvy bag and sleeping bag under a bush in the hall car park and grabbed an hour-or-so of sleep.

Part two - Brevet Cymru and the extended ride home soon!

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‘Full’ Wales in a Day

As a cyclist, Wales holds a sense of untouched ‘mystery’ that I’ve rarely felt in other areas of the country. It’s not that it’s a far-flung oasis, or a wildly foreign land - far from it in fact; I live approximately 20 miles from the Welsh border in Shropshire, and some of my family are from or live there.

For me, it’s the quiet emptiness, a sense of untouched country, that I feel when I’m cycling through lanes empty apart from branches and leaves, farm gates and occasional carrion.

On the 16th of July I set out on one of my longest rides of the year, to get the full experience of ‘Wales in a Day’.

The start, South Stack Lighthouse, was chosen purely as it was the furthest North-westerly point in Wales, with a finish set in the grounds of Chepstow Castle; one of the most South-easterly points I could find with decent links back to Shropshire.

Part 1 - 7am - South Stack Lighthouse

My parents had given me a lift to the start, and were picking me up from Chepstow at the finish. The car had been packed late the night before, and we’d set off at 4am to get to South Stack as early as possible. In my rush to pack the car, I’d forgot one thing - my small mini-pump. My 28mm Continental tyres are too big to drop out of the frame without uninflating them by half, so when I placed the wheel back into the frame after arriving at the start and reached for my non-existent pump, I was a bit concerned.

It was OK however; I’d brought a Co2 inflater and 3 cartridges to use. So, I screwed a cartridge into the spring-loaded inflator and in turn the inflator onto the tyre and.. nothing. The valve in the inflator wouldn’t open. I tried with all the force my puny fingers would muster, but still nothing. Fuck. We’ve driven 165 miles to the start and I can’t inflate my fucking tyre. I took the inflator off, unscrewed the canister slightly and lost all air out of it. One canister down, two left. I did the only thing I could do to try and rectify the situation; I literally took a big rock and smashed it again the side of the inflater. It budged, slightly, so I hit it again. This time, whatever force was holding the valve closed abated and I could rotate the head and open the valve! Canister in, onto the tyre valve and thankfully a fully inflated tyre! Right, I’m only 35 minutes late, time to get a move on.

I left South Stack and headed for the first milestone, the Menai Bridge. Within 5 miles the drizzle that had accompanied our drive to the start turned into rain, and I had to unpack my waterproof. I really don’t mind cycling in the rain - it’s not pleasant, but once you get going and your body warms I find I forget about it. This was definitely the case approaching Menai Bridge, with fantastic scenery and the backdrop of the bridge across The Swellies. I stopped for a quick obligatory photo and pushed on towards Beddgelert, my first planned food stop of the day.

The road to Beddgelert started to undulate, with the approach to Llyn Cwellyn on some of the smoothest and flowing roads in North Wales a highlight. It was at this time I started to see the peak of Snowdon through the dissipating cloud cover.

The descent into Beddgelert was awesome, and I met a few other cyclists out on a morning run into town for coffee. From the look on their faces when I told them of my plan, they thought I was mad, but could still appreciate the desire to see Wales in its entirety.

Parting ways just after Beddgelert, I picked my way via a series of B roads towards Harlech on the coast. Passing Fford Pen Llech and not turning left to tackle the 35-40% grade brute drove a pang of guilt inside, but I resisted and instead focused on the bigger picture. It may have been small, but with many mountains to come and only around 50 miles in the legs, I needed to stay as fresh as possible.

On my way to Barmouth I stopped at my Grandads house near Tal-y-bont. It was a great place for my second break, and a decent cup of coffee and a jam filled bagel sorted me out for the next stretch to Machynlleth. It was also a great opportunity to lose the arm and knee warmers, as the temperature had risen nicely, with no rain or clouds around.

The descent into Barmouth was fantastic, and arriving into the town during a water festival was even better. I pushed on through the town, and chose to ride over Barmouth Bridge to the other side of the estuary. The wooden slats of the bridge made the ride akin to riding over cobbles; I’m glad I run 28mm tyres on the bike at this point!

Leaving the bridge and turning right, I start a very pleasant ascent of the coastal road that heads toward Aberdyfi. The gradient is very steady, never rising above 6 or so %, and despite a slight headwind, the weather affords a great view back to Barmouth and the bridge.

I continue upwards and around the coast for a few miles before a steady descent past a cafe serving ice cream, and have my first low point of the day. With a combination of only covering 80 miles so far, and another 130 or so to go, I felt more than a bit behind schedule. Also, out of Machynlleth I knew the climbing would become serious, and progress slow even more. Still, moaning about it gets you nowhere so I pushed on.

Aberdyfi in the sunshine is beautiful. Seriously. I arrived there just after midday and I could have been in the Bahamas. The sea was crystal clear, blue and it was warm! My mood lifted somewhat, I stopped to take a picture on the way out of town, and pressed on Eastward.

Approaching Mach, I decided to make it my first main stop of the day and have some lunch. Mountains and steep climbs ahead, I fuelled up on another bagel and an energy bar, and took 10 minutes to rest. Whilst difficult, this was the part I was most looking forward to; mountains and climbing.

Part 2 - 14:00 - Machynlleth Mountain Road

I set off from Mach, and headed straight onto the mountain road signposted Dylife. The climb started quickly, and I was soon settled into a comfortable power I knew I could sustain. Slowly lanes gave way to more open areas of the mountainside, and with the sun shining brightly, made for a very warm climb. Approaching what I thought was the summit, the climb grows fairly steep; my Garmin’s elevation profile had been playing up a bit so when I rounded a corner and realised I was nowhere near the top, I wasn’t surprised. What did surprise me however, was how steep the climb was getting. I’m sure when I planned the route I looked at this climb and thought it would be fairly steady; I was wrong!

I pushed on, slightly over-power and overheating, trying to concentrate on my breathing and the magnificent view that was opening out in every direction. Heading over the top and on to Staylittle, I slowed right down and appreciated my surroundings; once again, Wales had delivered. The reservoirs at Staylittle are magnificent!

I stopped at a layby, and spoke to a couple of chaps riding motorbikes; I overheard one talking about my bike and saying something along the lines of “but with those tyres and a light bike cycling is pretty easy”. I laughed and couldn’t help myself, and so struck up a conversation about where they were going. Turns out they had just ridden their bikes down from Bangor, and were too heading for Chepstow. When I told them I was doing the same, but had cycled from South Stack, they were very confused. A non-cyclists view of long-distance cycling always makes me laugh; some don’t understand how, or what 125, 150 or 200 miles means to us, but most just look confused as to why we would do it. “Because I can” is usually my answer.

After Staylittle, the mountain road doesn’t really ease that much; the lumps and bumps continue, some fairly steep and a bit of a grind running a 28t cassette. Still, the surface was great, and the going fairly quick most of the way to Llanidloes, and further to Rhayader.

I stopped once more at Rhayader for food and a coffee, and found myself in the middle of a local 'treasure hunt’ style event. I have no idea what they were looking for, but they all seemed very interested in a notice board next to a disabled toilet, with many people pulling their cars up to the board, making notes and then driving off. Weirdos.

Fed and refuelled, I set off from Rhayader for the next part of the journey. I knew it would be pretty flat from Rhayader to Talgarth, as to save some time I’d routed along a couple of main roads in favour of an even longer trip. At this point I was glad of the clip on aero bars for another position!

Part 3 - 17:30 - A Time-trial of Sorts

I left Rhayader and directly turned South for Builth Wells on the A470. I wanted to try and make up a bit of time as I’d been a bit lazy so far, and had more quick breaks than I would have liked. It’s not that I was precious about time (other than the lift back from Chepstow), but I was worried about my legs starting to feel heavy if I rested too much. Dead legs = not much fun considering the climbs of Hay Bluff and beyond.

Despite the time, the road was fairly quiet of traffic and a great surface - I tucked in on the aero bars and managed to maintain a decent power and speed, arriving into Builth Wells quickly. I think I managed the 13 miles between the two towns in around 35 minutes, which I didn’t think was too bad of a pace after 155 miles in the legs!

There’s a lot to be said about using comfortable aero bars in this kind of long-distance discipline. I’d seen plenty of pictures and read accounts of other long distance cyclists using them to great effect in events (just take a look at the riders competing in the TCR for the number using aero bars!), but didn’t appreciate the comfort of having another position for long days in the saddle.

The road out of Builth Wells again started to get a bit lumpy, but fairly fast flowing. I chose to use the B-road that runs along side the A470 to keep the route as quiet as possible - I’m glad I did, as the scenery was once again amazing. The albeit smaller valleys, and plenty of them, carved by the many rivers and streams made for an awesome backdrop to the fading afternoon light.

On the way into Talgarth, I was greeted with a very familiar view; Hay Bluff.

Having recently completed an Everesting on the Northern (main) road up the Gospel Pass, I knew this area well. I’d spent nearly 20 hours climbing and descending the pass in June, over what was to be the hottest day of the year, and actually loved every minute of it. The prospect of climbing up Hay Bluff from the Talgarth side was energising, despite the fatigue building in my legs.

Turning South out of Talgarth onto the A479, the climb starts immediately. At a very pleasant average gradient of around 4%, this turned out to be one of my favourite climbs of the day. I’m not averse to steeper climbs, but the A479 climb let me measure my effort comfortably, and leave plenty in the tank towards the top to push on. It was cool seeing Hay Bluff from the West side too - the A479 climb winds it’s way through the ‘cut’ in the bluff before dropping down the other side towards Crickhowell, again with magnificent views of the Brecons off to the right and straight ahead.

On the descent, I started to notice the drop in temperature for the first time, and so pulled over to throw on my knee warmers and arm warmers. It was around 8:30pm and I’d been blessed with most of the day being warm, so couldn’t complain.

Part 4 - 8:30pm - The Home Stretch

Descending out of the Brecons towards Crickhowell, I was again able to make some time up on the fast-flowing A roads. It was at this point, after around 175 miles, I realised I’d made my first route error. I’d planned on dropping South below Crickhowell, using the quieter A4077 to get to Abergavenny, and then again using a quiet B-road out of Aber towards Usk. What actually happened, is my Garmin decided to take me on part of the incredibly busy A40 dual-carriageway for a mile or so. It wouldn’t have been a problem usually, but given it was around the time that many people were travelling back from South Wales to the rest of the country made it incredibly busy, not helped by my fatigue.

I quickly pulled over, re-routed the Garmin somehow (those that use Garmins know how fucking difficult this is!), and managed to find my way back to the road I had intended to be on in the first place. Not a disaster by any means, but still unwelcome after a day in the saddle and a place to be.

I took a quick break in Abergavenny, and used some of the time to check the route of the final 20 miles or so to Chepstow. Happy I’d not cocked up again, I pushed out of Aber on the B-road to Usk. It was dark, the road quiet and surprisingly the temperature started to climb again. Feeling refreshed after my stop in Aber I really enjoyed this section. I’d pretty much ran out of food, but didn’t feel too bad, so knew barring disaster this ride was in the bag.

Out of Usk, I hit what was to be the last climb of the day; the climb from Llangwm to Gaer-Fawr. It was only after cycling up and over this fairly brutish climb, I realised it had been used in the Ras de Cymru in 2014, and I can see why. Whilst not overly long, the climb has some steeper pitches that made it ‘interesting’ after just clocking 200 miles, and not much fuel in my body! At 4.5 miles and around 800ft elevation gain, at any other time I would have enjoyed it. But at that moment, I just wanted it done with. Reaching the top, I felt some relief that it was over and I just had the descent to Chepstow to go.

Rolling down the long descent into Chepstow, I reflected on the day’s ride; it had been a great day weather-wise, apart from one mishap, a decent route with a nice mix of quiet B-roads and faster A-roads, but above all, Wales hadn’t disappointed in the scenery. North Wales with it’s large mountains, Mid Wales and the steep valleys and many reservoirs, and finally South Wales and the pleasant steady-grade climbs that allow you to take in your surroundings whilst keeping a decent pace. 

I’d thoroughly recommend the route to anyone looking to experience a sample of what Wales has to offer; the ride wasn’t overly taxing, but enough of a challenge to make some of the tougher parts worthwhile.

Finally, arriving into Chepstow, I met up with my parents and attempted to get a picture of the castle. It was dark, I was getting cold, my first picture was very blurry and so I couldn’t be bothered to take another. So I took a picture of a signpost and that had to do.