While fruitlessly toying with the idea of altering the route of the Marlborough Connection Perm I administer I found I had devised a couple of interesting looking routes. Rather than waste the planning effort I thought I might ride one as a DIY GPS.

So on February 19th I set out in a southerly direction on the first leg of my Marlborough Moreton DIY. Starting with a pleasant run through the Ock flatlands, and a not very taxing climb up Hackpen Hill, where I cranked the fixie past a chap twiddling up in his small cog, I was still going well through Marlborough. Foolishly I decided not to stop and just swallowed an energy gel before enjoying an easy climb over the Marlborough Downs, in fact it was so foggy up there that I found myself at the Ridgeway highpoint when I thought I was only halfway up.

A few kilometers before Wootton Bassett I hit the proverbial wall quite suddenly and despite a small feast at the supermarket I struggled most of the way to my next control at Bampton and, notwithstanding several more snacks on route, never really recovered my energy till Moreton-in-the-Marsh.

At Moreton I still felt tired and the planned lanes promised to take me over two consecutive 100m climbs before they settled on a more downwards trajectory over the Cotswolds. ‘Stuff that!’ thought I and followed the A44 for the 30 mile last leg instead. Needless to say the climbs were both still there, bigger than expected if anything, but it was actually quite pleasant with good lights, some music and a stiff tailwind. Completed the 135 miles in just over 11 hrs 30m.

Only a few days later later and I felt the need to get some more fixed miles in before tackling The Dean 300 at the back end of March. The last Saturday of February looked like my only chance what with MK Half marathon coming up. So I crammed in a 9 mile trail run on Friday and 8am Saturday morning I was riding south again but this time with a visit to Winchcombe on the itinerary after I’d finished with the increasingly familiar Marlborough Downs.

I decided to take advantage of the initial 2 hours constant rain and get the misery quota over at the start for a change. After that the rain did stop for 20 minutes of so, long enough to start drying out and feeling optimistic – then it returned with a vengeance ensuring I was a shivering drip on arrival at Hungerford. Not repeating the previous weeks mistake I stuffed my face and meanwhile the rain died away leaving an increasingly stiff westerly headwind for the next leg, the climb over the Marlborough Downs was not such a doddle this time. Wootton Bassett got a black mark for closing it’s much needed public loo and putting it up for sale so I necked another gel and carried on to Cirencester where Waitrose supplied nourishment and conveniences.

Taking a breather above Winchcombe

The crosswind was quite strong as I climbed the Whiteway into the Cotswolds proper and my pace was slow but steady. The hills through Withington, and later past Belas Knap, were challenging but rideable. The sun made a welcome appearance. Visiting Winchcombe basically meant descending 120 grotty, twisty, potholed, metres just to climb back up 200 steep, winding, metres on the other side – 200 metres I knew I was going to be walking the fixie. So no point stopping and eating there as no chance to digest, I had another gel, got sore hands hanging on the brakes all the way down, then was soon to be found taking the long walk up past Studley castle and on towards Guiting Power. I ate a flapjack as I pushed, stopped for a photo, watched a buzzard ridge soaring. The Cotswolds in the low sun were looking great.

The wind behind me now and the road going generally downwards, though still with a few lumps, I was back on board and even making up some time. A little tight for time I resisted the urge to stop yet again and take a photo of the amazing rainbow that appeared. It was dark before I reached Bourton-on-the-Water and I’d lit up and donned my almost dry cold weather hat and gloves and was playing Caravan and Jefferson Airplane for company. The climb over the Rissingtons was not too bad and soon, after Shipton-under-Wychwood, I was on the familiar Poor Student route home and a spot of what looked like sleet didn’t dampen my spirits.

About 135 miles again but this time it took almost an hour longer, what with extra hills and a long walk this was expected though. That’s quite enough miles for February I think!

After last years effective cancellation of the Poor Student calender event due to snow everywhere I was looking forward to this. The forecast was rain early and a stiff headwind but as a bonus the rain had come and gone before I set off for the start at 7am. Lots of riders are gathered at the Peartree Park and Ride, many familiar faces, some I manage to attach names to. Organiser Dave is handing out A4 paper photocopies of the brevet card as the proper ones hadn’t arrived on time, this had happened to me twice when I used to be the organiser and doesn’t make preparations run smoothly.

8am and we’re off, the bunch seems to think it appropriate to start the ride averaging nearly 30kph so I lag behind a bit soon catching up with Ross BD who also settles for a sensible start pace. The fact we are going to have a headwind for the first 50 miles becomes apparent but it’s not unexpected. I leave Ross behind when we cross the A420 and pootle onto Shrivenham where I stop for a nibble. I also take my waterproof off as I’m warming up a bit, this has an effect like dimming the lights on the whole sky so I hastily put it back on again.

A bit of out of the saddle stuff on the way to Highworth including the unusual experience of not being able to catch up with a horse, they are obviously better up hill than me. Along the rolling B road to Blunsdon but after Purton we’re back in the lanes. Looking in my mirror I spot some riders closing on me who are obviously on the ball as they see me peeking and give me a wave. Tim and Emily, who I’ve not seen for a good while, catch up with another rider. Tim and another rider are also on fixed. We chat away a few miles, turns out Emily will also be runing the White Horse Half, a bit faster than me by the sounds.

We part at Malmesbury where I go for a quick Coop stop while they peel off to the garden centre for a sit down feed. 15 minutes later and I’m heading off to Cirencester soon to be joined by a young chap who has been riding snowy grimpeurs in the Peaks and who I let go after 20k when the road starts going upwards.

A slow but gentle climb in some lovely sunshine up the Whiteway then a hairy descent down a grotty lane where snow can still be seen at the sides of the road and potholes, gravel and pheasants have to be dodged. Then it’s try not to loose too much speed at the crossroads to nowhere then up the long, glorious, climb before Compton Abdale. I plan to ride this but to walk the fixie up the short but taxing climb up to the A40 shortly after. I have to tack most of the way up, fortunately there is hardly any traffic and the nearest riders are a good way behind. Halfway up my tacking is making more horizontal progress than vertical and I manage to stick the front wheel into the mud at the side of the lane so I stop to ‘admire the view’ for a couple of minutes. The guys behind pass by commenting that I seem to be travelling twice the distance they are. Back on board, without actually walking any of the climb, and I make it to the top then descend to Compton Abdale in a blur of legs.

I climb up through the village then dismount for the steep bit to the A40 where I stretch my Achilles pushing up the climb. More hills and 25km to Chipping Campden so time for a breather and a sandwich, while I sit on the curb I spot Ross bumping over the grassy further along bit to avoid adding 2oo metres to the route. Refuelled I’m on my way and soon catch Ross who has had mechanical problems, he’d lost 2 chainnring bolts, after I’d left him and while the bike shop in Purton had sorted him out he was trying to make up lost time at the expense of eating enough. After noticing him sliding backwards on even the little climbs I feed Ross a Trek bar which hopefully helped then speed on to reach Chipping C before dark for a change.

Tim and Emily catch up at the the One-Stop and by the time I’m ready to go there are at least 6 of us gathered including 2 other fixies. I weigh up the pleasure of a convoy back to Oxford against getting a move on and leaving now. I realise that they’ll all drop me anyway when I take my next promised walk up the nasty lump 5k after Chipping so I put my lights and nightgear on and get myself moving while they faff.

The tailwind is strong and consistent. The Relentless energy drink I’ve glugged buzzes me along. I walk my climb in the knowledge that the route gets lots easier after Moreton-in-the-Marsh on the other side. I usually stop at Shipton garage on this leg for refreshment and a breather but no need today, an energy gel and I carry on. Mostly alone though I pass a few riders and a few pass me. I don’t really realise how cold it’s getting till Matt C catches me a couple of miles from arrivee and comments.

A munch a chat and a final receipt in the garage at Peartree, I’d planned for 11hr 30 and finished in 11hr 5 so happy with that, and just the 10k home to do when I do start feeling the chill. 140 miles door to door, a good first ride of the year!

What with the slippery weather I’d not really expected to get out on the bike again this year and wasn’t too bothered as I was having fun running in the snow instead. The thaw was quite rapid though and the A and B roads started looking tempting so I hatched a possible plan for a main road 200k DIY GPS without much climbing: Oxford – Denham – Brackley – Chipping Norton – Oxford.

December 30th looked a good bet so I put in an entry the day before. The idea of 50 miles on the A413 and A41 had started to worry me so I’d quickly planned a lanesy alternative conditions permitting.

Early morning along the A40 was good, as an old coach road the gradients are good for fixed wheel and most of the traffic was on the parallel M40. High Wycombe and Beaconsfield were a bit cary and the surface was too rough for comfort but soon enough I reached Denham at 57k where I had a quick sandwich and back on the bike within 10 minutes.

My route through the Chilterns proved pleasant if a little lumpy, a couple of the valleys were still slushy and it was foggy enough to warrant leaving a rear flasher on. Definitely preferable to the dual carriageway though. Past Chequers, where I resisted the urge to ‘wave’ at the security cameras, then a rough descent and into the flatlands.

I was tiring and already had a plan for a sit down eat somewhere in Aylesbury, the distance clicked over the 1st 100k as I entered the town and once there I felt temporarily fine and foolishly rode on through only giving the last nutritional possibility, a Hungry Horse, a passing glance as I left via the busy A41 then disappeared into some foul country lanes. 120k saw me standing in something unpleasant by the side of the road munching dried fruit and ibuprofen while feeling rather sorry for myself.

Brackley arrived slowly and a rest for coffee, juice and chips by a log fire in the rather posh but empty Crown Hotel sorted me out. Just after leaving Brackley I had to negotiate one of those fast roundabouts where even the cars are hesitant to pull out so I was glad to be back on the ball.

I made good progress to Chipping Norton, it was a short stage if mostly uphill. The fields by the Oxford Canal after Aynho were under water both sides of the road which fortunately runs on a causeway. Flood water gushed down the tarmac and verges of the climb that followed. I was pleased not to have to push the fixie up any hills this time but did have to suddenly stop and ‘check my rear light’ halfway up one lump around here. As the light started to fade and I climbed back into the fog I found much of the Cotswolds was still white with snow, it was eerie in the glow of my 10 watt halogen.

Felt good enough to not stop in Chippy but with 40 dark kilometres yet to do I let common sense persuade me to have a 5 minute rest and a Frys Peppermint bar.  I usually try to avoid the folly of telling myself ‘it’s all downhill from here’ but it mostly was and the last leg proved to be the fastest stage despite the B road from Charlbury being of a reduced width due to snow.

Reaching North Oxford I realised I’d be on for an 11 hour finish if I pushed it a bit and with that in mind whizzed back to complete the 213k in 10:59. I was hungry and in time for tea so had 2 helpings of the risotto Jane had just cooked up then relaxed with a beer and a copy of the AUK events calender. I was considering a return to longer audaxes where I would ride through the night on 2 hours sleep and greet the dawn on 2 wheels – by 8 o’clock I was dozing in the chair.

The first leg of my Slaughter Badby Perm had gone well. Spinning my 67″ gear out of Oxford before the Monday morning traffic had built up and enjoying the company of the birds in the hedgerows. I’d seen the forecast and was warmly dressed in winter coat, hat, gloves, socks and boots over my thermal shirt and bib longs. I’d told my GPS to take me a less familiar route through the eastern Cotswolds taking in pretty villages such as Idbury and Church Wescote on my way to the Slaughters. The climbing so far was none too bad though there was noticeably more of it as I got nearer to my first control.

Lower Slaughter, with it’s stone pedestrian bridges over the Windrush and handsome old houses, was particularly pleasant and I counted a total of just two (other) tourists. I pedalled on to my control point at Upper Slaughter, found a bench by the river and sat down to enjoy some dried apricots and dates I had brought with me. Upper Slaughter was just fine!

This was my first 200k for a few months and I’d decided to have a go at a new Audax UK innovation – the DIY GPS Perm. The game was that, while I had to enter in advance as usual with a list of controls that could be demonstrated to make up the minimum distance, those control locations could be anywhere – even an OS grid reference would suffice. For validation I had to submit my GPS track for the organiser to put through his magic software which would confirm the distance and time. The upshot of all this was that I didn’t need to visit towns to get control proofs.

I put my thinner gloves on and set off on the next leg heading for Stratford-on-Avon. After less than a mile and some very cold fingers I stopped and put my thick gloves back on, they stayed on for the rest of the ride. The going felt tough, I was riding directly into the cold northerly wind and my road went up and down. I managed to stay on board for the 1 in 7 climb up the lane past Donnington Brewery but my quads were really feeling the strain not just up the hills but during the few flat bits as well. The descents were covered in slippery mud left by farm vehicles. My speed was right down, I couldn’t even maintain an average of 20kph. I plodded on but found myself wondering whether setting off on a fixed gear 200k, when the furthest I’d ridden the thing in the last 2 years was 40k, has been more stupid than brave. Not even halfway and I was suffering and struggling. Then came the aptly name Charingworth Bank – it was bad enough descending into the Slough of Despond – pushing the bike up the other side really took the biscuit.

My road flattened considerably approaching Stratford but I couldn’t get any speed out of those legs. I found my way round the one-way system and spotted a cheap and quiet pub with a coach entrance I could dump the bike in and staggered in leaving my skoggy boots outside. I must have looked a sight in my socks, bib tights and hi-vis waistcoat but the staff politely produced my order of chips, beans, black coffee and juice and bade me enjoy my meal which I did. I felt a little better when I left 30 minutes later and while searching out a shop to buy some water and ibuprofen I realised my legs had stopped hurting (I took them anyway).

Back on the bike and I headed east for Badby. I hadn’t got much faster, despite no longer fighting the northerly, but I felt much better. The halfway mark passed and I was getting that ‘at one with the bike’ buzz that only really comes with fixed. A series of windmills jollied up this stage: Chesterton, with a burst of sunshine to light it up; Harbury; later, after the expected walk up Marston Hill, Hellidon. I hit Badby about 3:30 and found a bench in the churchyard opposite the aptly named ‘Old House’ and sat down to finish my dried apricots and dates. Badby was just fine!

On with the rear light, the front being accessible without dismounting. I fancied some music for the next long stage so put the iPod on low: Hendrix; Muse; Jefferson Airplane; Hawkwind. About 70k to go almost all with the wind on my back. It’d been a while since I’d ridden through dark country lanes miles from home with a good front light and a backlit GPS to guide me. That magic 100 mile mark went by and I remembered how I’d suffered earlier and how those bad patches always do seem to end.

Near Brackley my route turned left onto a very busy A422 then soon right. I signalled and managed to move out though I’d seen no road sign to tell me of a turning. I stopped at a gate with a gap down the side and a sign saying ‘Circular Ride’, there was a rutted farm track with no tarmac to be seen. I remembered something about using a cycleway when originally planning the route. I rode cautiously down it for a few hundred metres till the rut got too deep to pedal then I tried the bit in the middle which was horrible slippery mud. I zoomed out on the GPS map to discover the track continued for over a kilometre before apparently regaining road, before the road it traversed the Great Ouse river, I was left to guess whether by bridge or ford. The alternative seemed to be to retrace and follow the A43 dual carriageway round Brackley at it’s busiest time. A brief contemplation of the Great Ouse in the cold and dark saw me turn around and I was soon hammering down the A43 in the company of low-loaders carrying giant dumper trucks. 15 minutes and a few extra klicks and I was back on my quiet route again passing through Juniper Hill.

What with the GPS validation I didn’t even need to stop at my Boarstall control but I’d promised myself a quick breather and an energy gel. As it happened I didn’t quite make it before wobbly legs and dizzy head caused me to stop at the top of the climb out of Arncott for my sugar boost. Then onwards, revived, till everything went black just before the final climb to Beckley as my battery ran out. Only 5 miles from home but it was out with the dim back-up light I was glad to have packed then onwards to finish the ride over an hour later than predicted and, after a warm bath, sink into a chair with a beer and the glow of aching everything.