CTT National 12 Hr (ECCA)

I've had a week to reflect on this event, no result is yet available as the organisers try and unravel the complexities of the four circuts and the 104 competing in the National event. As defending the 45-50 age group I felt I could go better than last year but the recent spat of weather made me anxious for the half day to come. Sure enough we were greeted with slight rain and wind the first riders setting off with lights in the darkness at 5.00am. Fellow SWRC rider Paul Alderson and I were 12 minutes apart over an hour later as weak light reflected the wet roads.

Dream Time

He has ridden this one before, he says the finish is bad, all I am concerned with is the start, get on the road, see how you feel banish the preparation get on with the event.
Always alot to do before the off but it is the culmination of alot of preparation long rides to nowhere, races sacrificed to the hope of a better harvest, the bike, the food, spares no sleep in the Travelodge the night before just lie awake behind your eyelids going over all the possibilities for the next day, I have Fiona and Adrian out to help and Paul's wife and daughter are there to overcome any eventuality that may occur on the roads between Cambridge and Newmarket.
The first part, the fast part on the A11/A14 is busy for Six O'clock in the morning, I have started fast, Is it too fast? I can see my minute man Paul Holdsworth (No 80) up ahead, I'm closing in on him, do I lay back and use him as a pacemaker? He's sure to be in the top 5 but it begins to rain, soon it is lashing down as we approach the first turn at Red Lodge (23.5m). In front of me I see what looks like a SWRC jersey, It' Paul he's had two punctures and looking grim, we exchange a shout water is everywhere. On the return I catch my minute man, I've done the first 25m in 57 minutes, the bad weather makes me anxious to ride hard and get away, to where? There is only the road and the rain but I feel good there is no pain yet!
South the rain eases off but I am drenched Four Went Ways roundabout comes and goes 50 miles in 1.57 I've calmed down a bit, there are lots of riders at the side of the road with punctures I shout for my phone to be passed up I dread wasting my good beginning.

Nightmare - I have company

Up to Red Lodge for a second drenching, it rains even harder and I ask for warm coffee, but by the time I get to drink it it's luke warm but the rain has abated and we are turning onto the second circut at Six Mile Bottom. Holdsworth goes past me after using me as a pacemaker, that's the last I'll see of him I think to myself, I have to settle into the 'B' roads, keep the gears down, minimise the time lost on every incline of this lumpy circut. I go past rider after rider and a few stick with me, try not to get distracted it's a difficult transition, I see Keith Coffey (No 70) stretched out on the grass with cramp(DNF).
In the distance can it be? Holdsworth is coming back to me, we exchange a grim glance as we pass he is suffering more than me, but I will suffer sure the pain begins to bite, you just have to see it through to the end, 12 hours everybody does the same. 150 miles in 6.22 only 6 minutes up on last year but it's been rough and the finish is yet to come. We are turned onto the 3rd circut 10 miles away down the A11 near Duxford, Holdsworth sits on my wheel an official has to stop his car and warn him for taking pace, it must be bad for him. We have been turned two laps early and my back-up do not know where I am, I have no drink for 25 miles and begin to feel sick and disorientated. Holdsworth leaves me for dead, it's my turn to suffer
I have to call for help but I cannot get my phone off lock "I'm at the far end of the circut" I screech to the distant panic and when they find me I roll to a stop at the side of the road, I drink it all up 'carb', water & cola and then a ravaging hunger soon after as my body comes back to life from its dormant state.
The next 40 or 50 miles go by in a blur of bile and sweat and as I fight to maintain my speed and dignity, my body rejects the effort to perform and my mind does somersaults to stem the wish to stop, at one point I stop to be sick at the side of the road, but there is nothing there it is full on war the body and the mind battle to resolve the conflict.

Feeding time - Adrian hands me fruit in a cup

I have to change bikes as I have broken an armrest but the spare is too different and compresses my shoulders luckily Adrian is able to effect a repair and I am back in the 'Sigma' like laying on a sofa, the comfort permeates my body. Adrian gives me some fruit in a cup and it settles me down somewhat, I am dry now and the sun is quite warm, there are combine harvesters scooping up the fields of golden wheat but whatn will I reap?. The wind is still there pushing me back when I try to go faster, the roads pass under my wheels and onto the finishing circut.

Dreamy Mmmmm!

These roads are the worst yet, lumpy and rolling, a bad surface rattles your body and the wind is stronger than ever, but we cover the roads both ways and get a glimpse of the other riders everybody is moving in the same laconic way at the same reduced speed. Cammish the eventual Champion (284.54 miles) goes past "The worst roads on Essex" he shouts I thought we were in Cambridgeshire no matter. Andy Stuart is catching me again, I caught him 10 minutes at 100 miles and now a minute behind, he must have found his second wind, he catches me his bike sounds awful grinding under his effort. I re-pass and drop him as his effort is dissipated in the creaking carbon and dry bearings, I press on past my helpers another drink another sponge, "Thank you" Fiona.
My computer is up the spout (it says my Av. speed is 30mph!) I have no idea what I am doing but only 2 hours to go. With an hour to go I reset my computer to see how I'm going, after half a lap 22.5 mph not bad I could be on for 260 not what I had planned (276 23 mph Av.) but a decent effort. I'm brought out of mt daydream with a bang! A broken spoke in the front and it's the one with the magnet so it will not ride until I stop and wrap it around another spoke, my hands too tired to unscrew the 'bleeder'. I get a wheel change anyway Fiona is following along and a minute here and there but I lost my computer again.

Dream Team

I roll to a close in a lay by on the A505 within sight of Duxford aerodrome, the little planes had been buzzing overhead the second half of the ride, I was just aware of them as my concentration slipped on and off the race. Its getting dark by the time we get back to the HQ at Gt Chesterford, I see Paul he is OK with his 252.68 miles considering the start and the horrendous day. I have managed to defend my title with 263.88 miles, less than I'd hoped but good enough for a top ten on the day
There are lots of stories of events out on the road punctures, broken chains the wind and the rain, How? and Why? Did we manage to get through it? that particular battle is locked inside my head. o7ò


 Ian Cammish Blog Here

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