Three members of Mid Oxon CRT take on the Fred Whitton Challenge route

Contrary to the weather reports leading up to the day, there was to be no rain for the initial climb, & thus breakfast was taken in a relaxed atmosphere.  The only apparently difficult task was getting the plastic lid off the marmalade.

As 08:30 came round, we geared up for the off.  I for one was nervous of what we'd planned to achieve in the day.  3800 metres of climbing, 100 miles of tarmac, 6 recognised passes, & a whole heap of lumpy stuff in between.  Especially as the route was pre-planned via GPS.

At 08:30 on the dot (after delayed breakfast), with the girls cheering us on, we headed into Ambleside, & to our doom.

After a short ride South on the A591 we took a very steep looking left turn onto a side road, & thus the 1st ascent started.  We were on the road to the Kirkstone pass.  Martyn was clearly keen to get the whole thing done & dusted in double quick time, & went off up the road.  This is possibly the longest climb, & certainly is the highest, so I took it easy.  As we progressed up, Ian & Martyn seemed intent on chatting about the walks they'd been on, & how the "High Street" was a good challenge for a day.  Looking up & to the right, I could see why.  That particular walk seemed to be perched precariously on the tops of a chain of ominous looking hills.

The road went ever up, but it's not too steep, so I was able to keep a few gears in reserve.  We finally passed "The Struggle", which is the road that arrives directly from Ambleside, & is a much steeper route in comparison.  A task for another day (& another trip) I think.  Thankfully it's not part of the FW route

On the way down, Ian set the pace, & was soon edging away.  I immediately noted that the road surface was not ideal for a fast descent, & that the meandering nature & high walls meant that some caution was required.  Ian clearly thought otherwise as he clocked 49mph.  A good 5 mph better than I.  The sheep, though, seemed unconcerned as we sped by.

As the road levelled out, we entered the village of Glenridding.  This took us on our 1st ride past a lake (Ullswater).  The water was absolutely still, & was indicative of the fact that we would be undertaking this "challenge" with hardly any wind to speak of.  Good news indeed.

We then took a left turn up what Ian described as a "nothing" hill.  After a further 10 minutes climbing of this "nothing" rise, I questioned how on earth it could be described as such.  Ian just responded that to our left was a lovely looking hill that had been named after him.  I squinted at Watson's Dodd, & immediately noted that it was a rather sorry looking edifice, so just focused on the need to continue climbing.  I later note that this "nothing" appears on the map with a chevron!

So we finally made it to one of the many Troutbeck's in the area, & made our turn to the West.  We took a side road that followed the route of the A66, & hit our 1st animal problem.  There was a big (bad) bull in the middle of the lane.  Two vehicles were trying to shepherd it, but it clearly had a mind of it's own, so we just got out of the way & waited.  We finally joined the A66, & enjoyed the fastest section of the ride.  It was very slightly downhill, so we pushed on at 25-30 until I spotted a cycle lane.  I quickly jumped on it only to discover that it was about 50 metres long!  We were now getting close to Keswick, but opted for a back road into the town, & a trip past the Castlerigg stone circle.  During the brief stop, all talk seemed to be of Cat's bells, dodds, crags, fells & Knotts.  I understood not a word of it!  Skiddaw & Littleman looked nice though.

So from Keswick we turned due South past Derwent water.  Our next ascent was Honister, & if luck was our way, a stop at the café at the top.  Honister Pass took me by surprise.  The bottom of this road is very steep.  So steep in fact that Martyn  was struggling on his 34" gear… to the point where he had to stop.  I understand that trying to re-start on this road is nigh on impossible.  An issue that will become important later.   It's 25% in places, & seemingly no let up for half a mile.  As soon as Martyn had caught up on a flatter section (though not much flatter) we headed to the summit, & to the slate mine.  This is a most curious place.  The café is actually just a kitchen, & very thankfully we were the only people sat round the single table.  None the less, a very useful respite indeed, & a place to caress & stroke our flapjack purchases.

After having our photo taken (for being such brave soles) by the mine owners we took a long look at the very nasty descent to Buttermere.  What we could see was all at 25%, & was also very demanding & dangerous.  It was so steep that the road surface was very badly rutted by vehicles trying to keep to less than 10mph.  We also had another issue to contend with.  Sheep on the road!

I took my life into my hands, & headed down.  Back wheel was permanently skipping on the rough broken surface.  This was no place to let the brakes go, & Ian seemed to agree this time.

The issue with making it safely to the bottom is that we immediately turn right, & go straight into Newlands from Buttermere.  Maps again show double chevrons everywhere, & limb sapping height gain to boot.  We were beginning to show signs of waning, & again I found myself using my 30 tooth sprocket.  Something that I'd hoped to save until Hardknott.  Worse still, we were way less than half way round!  However, reaching the summit gives the best opportunity so far for a safe (bar the ignorance of sheep), & fast descent.  I finally let go of the brakes.  Fantastic!  Mind you, as we levelled, I finally fell foul of an errant ovine malingerer.  It ran out in front of me.  Ian & I were side by side at the time. I was only going one way.  It was either the sheep or Ian.  The former was going to have me over the bars, so my pre-determined course was to veer into Ian….. whom had nowhere to go.  Good luck saved us both.  The sheep finally looked up, & frantically scuttled back to safety, literally within a split second of impact.  Much to the mirth of Martyn it has to be said.

Next destination was the Whinlatter Forest, & the climb up it.  This was a slow gradual drag, & nothing like the beasts that we'd climbed before it.  It was thus a slow but pleasant climb, & would take us to the western part of the route.

Now heading South West, we were not far from Workington & Whitehaven, but most importantly had finally gone through half way.  For many reasons this is the difficult section, very undulatory, & a long psychologically meandering slog South.  This was made all the worse by Martyn stating that we'd stop at a pub called the Book Inn in about 10 miles.  I think it would be fully 25-30 miles, & two hours before I finally savoured a glass of Perry (6.5% ABV), & that short rest before Hardknott.

At Loweswater Ian attempted to call in with the WAGS support crew.  We were informed that they were uninterested in our exploits & were enjoying themselves on the Bowness ferry.  Marvellous!

We passed through Lamplugh, up & over Blakeley Moss, past Swarth fell & Ghyll Farm, then spied Sellafield to our right, & then a long fast descent on a good road (finally) back down to Calder Bridge.

The A595 then took us safely South East to Gosforth, & thence via yet another lumpy b road to Eskdale Green.  This was the place that we were seeking.  We were finally in the valley & heading to Hardknott (& the pub of course, which actually turned out to be the Woolpack Inn).  I could hear a steam train to our left, & wondered whether it was possible to get on & enjoy a leg saving few miles.  Unfortunately we rounded on the terminus just a mile further on.  After the inn refreshment stop, the road continued on it's unerring path to the foot of the Hardknott pass.  It looked horrible as we approached.  A minibus was coming down it, & was going so slowly that I did not think it would ever make it safely.  I stopped.  Took in the vista, the escarpment, & the full folly of what we were about to undertake.  The final gel pack was hastily consumed, & I then set off after Ian.  Within seconds I was on my 30.5" smallest gear, & struggling manfully at the foot of what can only be described as a cliff.  Bishops Cleeve is a baby in comparison.  The single track lane zigzagged in front of me, & there was only just enough room for vehicles to pass by.  I checked my pulse.  170BPM.  I checked my speed.  1mph.  Not looking good at all, & slower than walking pace!  The only respite was achieved by edging the outside of the turns, but it was all too brief, & the pain was intense.  Staying out of the saddle was causing back pain too.

I cannot put into words the intensity of the rise from the foot of this climb.  To be honest the sign said it all.  30%.  On the way up a driver reminded me that "I must be mad" to even entertain such an activity.  I think she was right too.  My more immediate problem though was that I was on a zero stop strategy, so the one possible stopping point (where it flattens near the Roman fort) was passed at pace.  A fatal mistake.  I finally reached Ian, & without thinking about it we seemed to grunt in unison.  It was otherwise sheer silence.  The road was as steep as ever, & with waning energy I started to traverse the lane to lessen the gradient.  This was fine very briefly, but about 50 metres from the crest I wheelied & fell off.  Ian passed me.  I tried a re-start, but it was simply too steep & the road was not wide enough to start at a tangent.  I fell off again.  "I am not going to walk" I told myself.  Ian was clearly telling himself the same message, but the legs ignored this communication & he ground to a halt about 10m further on.  I found a large rock that I could lean against, & clipped in.  I pushed forward, & got back to the road surface. 

It's amazing.  1  minute of stop was all I needed to be fully rejuvenated, & invigorated.  The ascent seemed much easier, & as I crested I crossed the umpteenth cattle grid & collapsed on the grass by the side of the road.  Ian arrived, & we were both clearly gutted about our failures.  Nothing more needed to be said. 

Martyn was obviously going to take some time, so I started to amble to a good camera position.  Just as I set off, Martyn arrived.  Incredible.  A man with a bus pass, a penchant for the big ring, & only a 27 tooth sprocket, was only 5 minutes behind.  Bloody marvellous!

Now here's the rub.  We were still a few miles to go, & Wrynose was just ahead mocking us.  Worse still, the descent from Hardknott was pretty much as difficult as its ascent.  Made more so whilst trying to avoid cars coming up the single track.

We hit Wrynose together.  Again I was fumbling for the big Machisio sprocket, & again cadence dropped to nothing.  Yet another 25 percenter!  The trust that this was the last severe clamber gave me the will to push for the summit, & to the safety of the Three Shires stone.

At the top & during our final rest, we agreed to head straight for Ambleside.  There was to be no attempt at the minor (in comparison) Hawkshead hill.  We'd earned the right to head back to sanctuary via the direct route, so took it.  It's amazing how this lifted us.  We pushed hard on the final A road run in, & arrived back at the B&B 5 mins ahead of schedule.

Stats
101 miles
3800 metres of ascent (but we added in Castlerigg on top)
Average speed was a paltry 12.6.
Ride duration time: 10 hours 10 mins.
Actual cycling time: 7 hours 59 mins.
GPS errors: 0
Recovery time before 1st beer: 25 mins
New scratches on Ted's bike: Numerous (more a badge of honour really)
Calories burnt: Circa 6-7000
Offers by WAGS to polish bikes post ride: 0
Warnings for red squirrels:  Too many to count
Red squirrels actually seen: None!
Post ride baths drawn for Martyn by his butler: 1  (though he subsequently refused a rub down)