I'd like to post my report of YD300 on here with the hope of maybe attracting a bit more attention from people on here to the fantastic events that Stuart Rider runs out of Skipton. If you missed the YD300 last weekend, there is still the YD200 on 25/26 August.
I know a couple of BBers came up including Mike and the other guy "Garmin expert"
so, come on, let's have a few more put these classic routes in their diaries!
Cheers
On Friday after work Richard Rothwell and I drove down in his van to Stuart Rider's man cave aka Rider Cycle Centre. Stuart is an expert independent bike mechanic who likes to put on this low-key, but respected event in his adapted terrain of the Yorkshire Dales.
His 2015 event was my first foray into bikepacking and I was searching for a good result, that would make a strong case for my selection for the 2016 Highland Trail. Fast forward the 2016 and 2017 Highland Trail races successfully completed, but the 2018 not completed because I pulled out, feeling the pressure of this overwhelming Scottish event.
The 2018 YD300 seemed like just the thing to simultaneously get me back to roots and hopefully reboot my bikepacking mojo after a summer of switching to my roadie default. For Rich the event was a timely preparation of kit and condition before he leaves for the Colorado Trail Race.
Initially we had agreed to carry sleep kit and have a 2-3 hr bivvy sleep en route, but in the course of the downward journey and considering the exceptional hot and sunny conditions for both the Saturday and the Sunday, we decided to ride straight through the night and conclude our effort sometime in the early hours of Sunday morning.
Saturday morning already dawned hot at 6.30 as we made our way from the van, where we had slept to the workshop, where amongst assorted bodies waking up on the floor, Stuart was busy preparing his traditional pre-ride breakfast.
We set off exactly at 8am Saturday with high temperatures (on the sections where we emerged onto the road there were patches of melting tar) and the prospect of 6800 metres of climbing (I ended up recording just over 7000!)
Having a loose pact with Rich to stick together and ride around fairly steadily came unstuck quite quickly because a) while I was in pretty good shape, Rich was in peak shape after months of effort aimed at Colorado and b) a guy on a beefed up gravel bike went straight from the go and was dangling ahead of a small group of 4 of us for the first hour.
The initial pace was nothing short of horrendous for experienced riders setting out on a 20+ hours event in sweltering conditions: 600m height and 21km covered in the first hour and no let up for the second and third, with the result that after 4 hours we were on a 15hr schedule. After 3.5 hours the pace cracked me and I was also having some minor chain jumping problems. Rich pulled ahead and I knew he was chomping at the bit to catch a young guy who had slipped away as Rich waited for me after I went over the bars on a early grass descent.
Having a silly, but painless crash was a sure sign that I was stressed and riding too close to the limit.
After 4 hours I was on my own and to be honest, I felt a bit relieved as the early pace had taken a lot out of me and left me wondering how the hell I was going to recover for the remaining 15+ hours of the event still left. Being by myself I perhaps relaxed a little too much and ended up not concentrating on my gps, with the result that I did 1km off route downhill and the same kilometre back up hill again to regain the trail!
I took the chance to adjust my pace and also stopped at a house in a tiny hamlet where a nice lady not only filled my bottle with water, but added ice cubes too. All the while I was managing to eat regularly, despite the heat now ramping up towards its maximum, which I estimate must have been close to 30C.
At Reeth, I quickly called into the bike shop to buy a different brand of dry condition oil, but this worked no better than the one I was using on the dusty trails. I deviated off route to the shop and quickly ate and drank and also stored a chicken sandwich for later. Over the next stretch I felt pretty good, although I still had occasional route finding hiccups. I dropped down to Muker, climbed Buttercup on the road quite comfortably and rode to Bainbridge, where I again filled my bottles with coke and water in the pub. The long climb up the Roman road to a summit plateau of nearly 600m brought the welcome sight of Alex Pilkington and family, who were bivvying out, cheering on riders and offering drinks and food - a lovely gesture.It was 8pm when I reached Alex so added a thin merino under shirt and continued on towards Dentdale and the climb over the shoulder of Whernside. Unlike 2015 I was far enough ahead to be able to complete the descent in the light. In fact, although my pace had slowed, I still went through the first 200km in just over 12.5 hours - still too fast and a pace that I would pay most richly for in the final 100km section.
By the time I had descended to Ribblehead and started the Cam Head section, it was getting dark and so I added knee warmers and arm warmers and got my head torch and handlebar light out. Navigation was actually easier in the dark with the Garmin display showing up better under the headlight that it did under the direct sunlight and I made less navigational glitches in the final third, notwithstanding cumulative exhaustion making itself felt hour by hour.
It's quite an experience to ride a bike into the dark and then out the other side and into the daylight. I've done it both on the road and in the wilds before and I must say I like the tranquillity of riding through the night on a mountain bike in the midst of naked nature. Of course the sense of movement is completely distorted in the dark and each kilometre that clicks over on the Garmin screen has the feeling of taking at least half an hour.
I pressed on through lanes, tracks and rocky sections and by the time I got to Malham I could sense that very first illusion of a blue tint to the sky that signifies first light is starting to make its advance. At Malham I happened to catch sight of a road sign that said, "Skipton 11 miles" and I was sorely tempted to return there and then by road, instead of the additional 40 km or 25 convoluted miles that Stuart still had planned for us (in fact, I ended up clocking 308 km in total so I actually had nearer to 50kms still to do at this point). As if this signpost masquerading as an apple in the Garden of Eden wasn't enough the next 2km out of Malham were straight up at a gradient of 1:7 and, even though the surface was tarmac I was reduced to pushing my bike on foot - an inglorious choice that I would be taking many times again over the remaining hours.
I was telling myself that I deserved it really for the ridiculous folly of the speed that I set off at and also, deep down, although I was momentarily tempted by the sign at Malham, I knew I had no reason to quit: the aches and pains in wrists, neck, shoulder, feet and bottom were all routine and the bike was behaving perfectly too.
I pressed on over the moors and as the light emerged I recognised that much of the final run in was very close to the original 2015 route (a lot of the earlier section had changed a lot). As is always the case, the first hour of daylight is always the coldest, but even this was manageable with my thin racing gloves being sufficient to keep my hands warm.
After a final sixth of the ride that seemed to take an eternity, I finally rolled in to Riders Cycle Centre at 06:50 - taking 22hours and 50 minutes. A good improvement on my rookie time of 28+ hours with Stuart Cowperthwaite in 2015, but leaving the inevitable question of how much better I could have done with a sensible pacing strategy in these perfect conditions. For the record: I went through the first 200km in around 12.5 hours, yet the last third 100km section took something like 10.5 hours! I was finally third overall, losing to two younger guys I hadn't heard of.
Stuart was his normal welcoming self despite having his sleep interrupted by riders either returning or ringing to tell him they'd quit. Despite being a long way ahead (Alex said he was +30 mins at 8pm), Rich had had to quit and ride back on the road due a small part of his suspension linkage going missing - he couldn't risk wrecking the bike 3 weeks before flying to America.
I had a tiny doze on the sofa for about 30 minutes and then Rich drove us back at 9 o'clock after breakfast.
Out of your three, I'd chose the Lauf hardtail but I'd give serious consideration to the FS. We've been out this weekend in the Dales and the ground's baked like concrete. Expect little or no flowing water on higher ground - some bits that I've only ever known as puddles are dust bowls.