London-Edinburgh-London

Bike

30 July 2017

London-Edinburgh-London (LEL) is the main event for audax riding in the UK. The event has gained a reputation for being tough, covering a hilly route up and back down the country, but is very well organised and attracts huge numbers of foreigners that come to experience riding through the UK countryside.

LEL is the English equivalent of France’s Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP) ride, which is the world’s largest and most prestigious long-distance road cycling event. PBP first ran in 1891 and now attracts 6000 participants. LEL’s inaugural ride was in 1989 and has since grown to 1500 riders from 55 countries for the 2017 edition. Both events run every four years but are separated by two years, so either PBP or LEL runs every second August.

To explain the concept simply, you’ve given 116 hours and 40 minutes to make the 1400km trip up to Edinburgh and back, with 11,128m of climbing along the way. How you spend that time is up to you, but the clock doesn’t stop and you need to make individual time cut-offs (depending on your start time) for each of the checkpoints along the way, where your brevet card is stamped to prove where you’ve been and at what time. If you make it back to London within the time frame and your brevet card is validated, then you’ve successfully completed the ride.

Due to the openness of this ride, and the length, it means that everyone approaches the ride differently, depending on how quick you ride, how much kit you choose to carry, how much sleep deprivation you can get away with, how lucky/unlucky you are with mechanical issues, and so on.

Since moving to Bristol I had started taking on longer and longer road rides, soon after joining Audax Club Bristol and getting hooked on long-distance riding. I remember hearing about LEL on a club ride and then read up about it and thought it was way beyond my current fitness and unlike anything I’d done before, but I was attracted to the challenge and wanted to push myself. Entry to this event is through a ballot with no prior requirements and so I figured I may as well give it a go and put my name in the hat. The event also only takes place every four years, so if I didn’t go for it this year I would have a while to wait. So, nothing to lose and potentially a lot to gain if I managed to get a place.

Signing on and trying to settle the pre-ride nerves

Low and behold I got a spot on the ride. The following days I became super excited but a little concerned about how I was going to take this on. That was January, I had until August to get myself into shape to take this on and feel confident on the start line. I needed to be able to cover 300km+ a day for five consecutive days, which I knew was feasible, but I needed to be able to do it with only a couple of hours of sleep each night.

Luckily, and a key reason I decided to consider giving this a go was that I was a student at the time, studying for a Masters degree. So, I knew my time was flexible and I’d be able to ride all day and study in the evenings. I also had a long summer off uni so I planned to spend a few weeks riding in the Dolomites and Europe. So, in the end, as the event came round I felt reasonably good about my fitness, there was still a lot of unknown though, mainly how I would hold up through to days four and five when I’ve had multiple nights on the trot of very little sleep.

Also, Bristol has a thriving audax community and some super strong riders. I rode a number of local 100km and 200km audax rides in the lead up so I could get to grips with the control points, the time cut-offs and how to be efficient when getting in and out of a checkpoint when tired and low on brainpower. I spoke to veterans of LEL and prepared as best I could.

Northbound: London - Edinburgh. 710km | 49 hours

On the start line, feeling nervous, I got chatting to a couple of guys next to me, making small talk as we waited to be released and set out on our journey up the country. Our start time came and the small group I was in the gated pen with set off. It was hard not to push the pace from the off, the sun was shining and we were all full of pent-up energy. I kept looking down at my bike computer and my speed was over 30kph, which I knew was way too quick for the first few hours, but I was having fun. I needed to reign it in and once I split from the starting group I joined two riders who were riding more at my pace. The pair were brothers, Nick and Rich, and were from Bath, where I was studying for my Masters, and we quickly got chatting.

At this pace, we arrived at the first checkpoint in no time, and it was a huge relief to collect my first stamp. I ate a strange mix of food (a reoccurring theme at each checkpoint) and ended up departing with Nick and Rich and we stuck together for most of the day and into the night. We all had different setups and riding styles but seemed to be riding at the same pace, and they seemed happy to ride with me. I was very wary of riding with others for long periods and it’s all too easy to get carried away and ride at someone else’s pace. Our average speed to the first checkpoint was 28.5km/h, much too quick for me sustain but the nerves had settled now so I figured everyone would slow down a bit. Due to the length of the ride, this is very important to avoid this as I knew I would struggle to regain my legs once I’d blown up. Riding with Nick and Rich seemed to be working well though, and we chatted away which helped with the dosies as they kicked in later through the night.

The checkpoints varied, from primary schools to village halls to a castle. All full of middle-aged men shuffling around trying to organise themselves and looking at the clock every few minutes, calculations being made all the time. Everyone wondering “how much more time can I afford to stay here”. In some of the checkpoints, bottlenecks formed and there was nowhere near enough space for everyone who wanted to find somewhere to sleep, so there were bodies scattered around in any space they could find. This made for some interesting sights and was amusing. Cycling shoes were also banned from being worn inside buildings, so there were hundreds of pairs of black cycling shoes outside - so many people must have had issues here and ended up with the wrong shoes. It would be worth having distinguishable shoes or clearly marking yours.

My first few days consisted of cycling from the early hours of the day, around 3 or 4 am through until midnight or 1am, then showering if possible and sleeping for around 2 or 3 hours. Then repeat multiple times, covering around 300-350km per day. Stopping every few hours for lots of food and to dry out. After a sunny start to the first day, rain set in through the night and into the next few days, The rain continued for most of the ride, we probably had only a few dry hours throughout. Suffering mostly from this were my feet, they were soaked through and after a few days, I felt the skin was very tender and painful on every pedal stroke.

Everyone developed their routine when arriving at a checkpoint, and this was important. Once the sleep deprivation kicks in, you need to be able to do everything needed when stopping with minimal faff. My routine became: park your bike up, grab any toiletries or clothes needed from your bike bags, grab empty water bottles for refilling, get the next leg of the route loading up on your Garmin and plug it in to charge, then head to get your brevet card stamped. Then join the food or toilet queue depending on which is more pressing! Others would try to hunt down a plug socket if they weren’t running a dynamo which was a bun fight. Eat/drink/wash/change kit/fill bottles and then get going again. The checkpoints were always a hive of activity and when being out on the road for so long and also feeling run down it was a bit overwhelming on the fourth and fifth days when I was very sleep-deprived and aching. After a couple of days, everyone was suffering from numb hands and/or feet, making most tasks take a lot longer than normal, you had to focus! I also had issues with my Achilles tendons seizing up and becoming hard and crystalised, so when I needed to stretch them as they felt crunchy and wouldn’t flex.

Moving north the temperature dropped, but being August the days were relatively warm, for a Brit anyway. I remember passing a large group of Indian’s, clearly feeling the cold. They were head to toe in full winter kit on which was somewhat bizarre to see next to a rider in shorts and a jersey. There were a lot of riders from Japan on interesting bikes, and I really enjoyed riding alongside them and hearing their thoughts on the UK roads and countryside.

The Yad Moss climb in the Pennines was significant, despite having a gentle gradient and just a few steep ramps, it is long at around 20km and is Britain’s highest B road. I was coming over the climb at dusk, so I could see many rider’s flashing rear lights slowly move up the climb. There was a supporter roadside with a van and a table set up handing out cups of tea, which was reaffirming to see, but I didn’t stop and continued to the top, pushing on for the next control to refuel properly.

I reached Edinburgh just after midday on the Tuesday, so my third day. The control was a large, smart school and it was buzzing with riders, spreading out and getting on with their business. Mentally, reaching this halfway milestone felt great, and felt confident I could repeat the journey back to London successfully. I felt I needed to keep moving though, to avoid seizing up, I could feel my knees creaking a little. The facilities were good here and despite being heavily sleep deprived I headed off feeling positive.

Outskirts of Edinburgh, at the halfway point

Southbound: Edinburgh - London. 726km | 63 hours

Leaving Edinburgh, after just a few kilometers my energy levels dropped as the realisation of the remaining task set in. I felt shattered but psychologically I tried my best to maintain the confidence I could repeat the trip back, and although I was tired my legs felt good considering they had 700km in them on a loaded bike.

The weather for the first half of the ride up to Edinburgh had been patchy, with frequent showers and no prolonged dry spells where I could dry off. Once I began heading south though, the rain got heavier and more prolonged.

Coming south, Yad Moss was a different climb, shorter and steeper up and a longer descent down the other side. The ‘trail fairy’ man serving tea from his van was still there. I saw several riders doing the climb on a fixed gear bike here, snaking their way across the road to reduce the gradient as they pedaled hard.

Later into the night, I’m not sure exactly where this was, but somewhere near Hull, I suffered some bizarre hallucinations. It had been pouring with rain all day and into the night, and at around midnight on this particular road sloped gently upwards, and I thought I could see hundreds of frogs jumping across the road. I started to swing my bike left and right to dodge the frogs, slaloming across the road, trying to dodge the frogs and feeling bad squashing so many of them. In reality, there weren’t any frogs and I was swerving around for no reason. Luckily there were no cars around, just a few riders wondering what was going on.

I crossed the Humber bridge at dawn, empty and with no cars on. This felt special and lifted my spirits, restoring some I hope and put a smile on my face. My morale had dropped significantly, the lack of sleep had really set in, and with the wet and cold, I wasn’t positive I’d make it. I was certainly determined to complete the right but body was being worn down beyond anything I’d experienced before.

This was followed by a long stretch through the Lincolnshire Wolds which was hilly and tough in the rain plus included multiple close passes with cars. The wind was also picking up now and was splitting groups of riders up. This was a tough and relenting part of the ride and I was now very ready to be back in London.

In amongst all this rain and through the darkness of the night, I lost the group I’d been with and had spent the last 24 or so hours riding on my own. I knew I needed some company to lift my spirits and to also take some turns on the front to share the wind which unfortunately for us had now built up nicely.

At the next checkpoint, when getting my brevet card stamped I asked if Nick and Rich had been through the checkpoint already, using their rider numbers. Luckily it was late and there weren’t many people around so they had time. It turned out they had checked in here a hour or so before, and the super helpful volunteers found their bed numbers and wake-up time, and so I matched it. I then looked for them in the morning and we were reunited. This gave me a boost and I felt more confident about the days riding ahead.

I continued riding with Nick and Rich, and at a later checkpoint bumped into a large Audax Club Bristol contingent. I hadn’t seen any of them for a while and was keen to catch up and see how their rides were going. They were leaving the checkpoint and we’d just arrived, so I faced a dilemma. I decided to wave the ACB riders off and stick with Nick and John, we’d got this far and I felt as though it would be a shame not to finish the ride together. I’d catch up with the ACB riders later or back in Bristol.

Crossing the fens is not something I will forget easily, the headwind was horrendous. Even if I had fresh legs this would have been super tough, but in a dazed state and tired legs and on a loaded bike, the few hours it took to cross the flatlands with a severe headwind were incredibly challenging. My legs knees were increasingly complaining and I was losing the group that had formed. Frustratingly I dropped off the back and found myself riding solo again and cursing heavily. There were a few small groups of riders spread out but annoyingly they weren’t riding at my pace, one left me for dead, the other was too slow, so spent the bulk of the day riding solo again.

Continuing south through the Louth and Spalding control points I developed a niggle in my left knee which gradually got more and more painful. I was suffering from some saddle soreness, but that’s to be expected and no one doing this ride is not going to be sore after this extended period of riding. I could deal with that, but this knee pain was a growing concern, and I wasn’t sure the route cause for the pain. I was getting to the point where I unclipped my left foot from the pedal and was just using my right leg to pedal. Coming into the St Ives control, I was close to the finish but in agony. Getting off my bike and checking it out properly, I realised that my saddle had slipped down and this was the reason for the pain. Luckily it was straightforward to fix. Thinking back about this I wonder how I hadn’t noticed, but given the fact I had ridden over 1000km and had only had a few hours sleep for the last four days, I wasn’t really with it. Thankfully whilst fixing this I was reunited with Nick and Rich, again!

My brevet card, complete with a stamp from each checkpoint

Pushing on with the finishing point in sight, we were delayed by a puncture or two, but were in good spirits, we were now in touching distance. At the final control point on my way into London, Great Easton, I was suffering badly from the dosies and desperate for some sleep. In the school gym, I had a 20 minute nap on a stack of blue gym mats before heading on to the finish line, I really didn’t want to nod off whilst riding and risk crashing this close to the end. I’d been riding for five days and only had around 12-15 hours of sleep and the simplest of tasks were proving challenging. My hands were also suffering from holding the bars for so long, with both the ring and little fingers losing almost all feeling in both hands.

My mum and aunty were waiting for me at the finish line in Loughton, which was unplanned, and so I also wanted to be more present when they finally saw me. They’d been standing out in the dark all night watching riders come in, looking carefully at each one to see if it was me. Finally, it was, and at 3.30am I rolled in at the finish.

There was a strange atmosphere at the finish, a buzz of elation marred by extreme exhaustion. The bright lights of the school gym kept me awake after riding through the night to get here, and I didn’t really know what to do with myself. I was hungry but could really eat, and was tired but could really sleep.

It was a huge relief to finish with hours to spare, and it was nerve-wracking to see and hear people running into the building looking for the table to get their brevet card stamped and validated as they had minutes to spare. All in all, of the 1500 starters, 810 of these finished in time. It had been a brutal year weather-wise and this had taken its toll.

Additional thoughts

After a long sleep, the enormity of this ride sank in. Needless to say, I didn’t get back on my bike for a good few weeks. My Achilles seizure and pain improved quickly but it took a few extra weeks for my knees to regain their full movement whilst staying pain-free.

Highlights of this experience for me was unequivocally the camaraderie and sense of community in the cycling world. The hundreds of friendly and selfless volunteers running this event was so great to see, something I hope to be able to repay this at some point. The variety of riders was interesting and entertaining at times, it was great to see so many people travelling across the world for this ride. Lowlights were the torrential nonstop rain and resulting trench foot which was miserable at times and very painful.

The organisers allow you two make use of two bag drops during the ride. You’re given two draw-string bags and can put whatever you like in them, and choose which checkpoint you’d like access to the bag, which can be accessed both on the way up and down. I decided that I didn’t want to be restricted by leaving kit at certain checkpoints, if I needed something, I wanted to have it with me so I could access it at any point. I also didn’t want to have the faff of queueing and waiting for my bag to be searched for and found in the hundreds of others that looked exactly the same. There is a system for this but still I wanted my independence and I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Plus there’s the possibility of the bag going missing.

This was a personal approach, and I wanted to stick to the self-supported ethos of the ride. Most others used the bag drop and had their favourite snacks or drinks waiting for them, or a fresh pair of shorts, which did seem appealing mid-ride! If you’re riding with a friend you can also approach this tactically and share the bag drops so you actually have bags available at four different checkpoints. In hindsight I would have requested the bag drops and put a few bags of sweets in each, also for the reason of being able to keep the bags, they looked great and would have been a nice souvenir.

The LEL trip up and down the country made me realise I could get away with carrying much less, you can get by on surprisingly little and for five days I really didn’t need two jerseys and two pairs of shorts. This was a shift in mindset which translated to following rides. I have since enjoyed slimming kit lists down roughing it a bit more.

I thoroughly enjoyed the experience but did feel like I had spent a lot of time our riding on the roads, both for training and the event itself. I England drivers aren’t the most pleasant, so as well as me needing to recover, I didn’t have a lot of enthusiasm to get out mixing with cars for a while. A few months later I bought an off-road bike and looked to spend more time away from busy roads and cars, and looked forward to exploring the byways and bridleways in the South West.

Laura Green’s photos

Finish line