My name is Richard and I am a recovering Bikeaholic....

So I just got a new bike... Another one, yes. But I'm not a bike-a-holic. It's under control. The financial controller said that I didn't have 'sign off' for the purchase... But to a biker on the edge of a dangerous addiction it seemed obvious... £500 off, it was obviously a sign from a higher power; "buy, buy!"

Of course, it's not like I don't have an all purpose go anywhere road bike. It's not as if I don't have an aero bike, ideal for time trialling. And of course, in the stable at Adventure Cafe we have endless hybrids, and back up Genesis machines when we need them. And then, gathering dust in the dark recesses of the garage are the poor, almost fore gotten mountain bikes, both fully rigid and front sus.
So the obvious question is "why did I need another bike?" And the answer comes in many forms. In my mind it is because I didn't have an out and out hill climbing machine. But in reality, the reason I splashed out on another new bike is probably because the bike industry is so clever at reinventing itself. For a machine that purports to be so simple, it really is something to behold the way the humble bicycle has evolved, metamorphosised and regenerated more times than Doctor Who or Madonna. Kids street bikes, BMX's, folding bikes, touring bikes, recumbents, mountain bikes, DH, XC, TT, Aero, Triathlon, Cyclocross, Fixed Gear, it is just bonkers how the bike has splintered into a million subspecies.

But the question is how to select the right bike for you. Which breed are you going to pick. We'll assume for arguments sake that you are one of the legion of road bikers now multiplying on our roads, looking for a machine that will go anywhere as long as it is good quality tarmac, and looking to cover the miles with ease. But within the gamut of road bikes, we need to consider the range of types on offer, and of course for that, we need to know what the bike is to be used for. The first way to weed out a whole chunk of bikes is to confirm that the rider is not partaking in TIme Trialling or Triathlon. This being the case, forget anything with the words aero featuring. These machines are amazing, lightning fast,  pieces of engineering wizardry, but their geometry is designed for one off shorter spurts of effort and certainly not for climbing hills or mountains or all day enjoyment.
Next there are the cyclocross, and old school touring machines. If you are bound for some serious multi week tours, or travel on suspect roads or even semi off road, then these machines with their design to accommodate wider gauge tyres and hi durability could be just the thing you are looking for. But be careful, and consider who you're going to be riding with, as these bikes will sacrifice a lot in terms of extra weight, and acceleration won't be startling! If you want to keep up with friends on road bikes, then a cyclo-X machine won't be the one for you.

So now we're getting to the nitty gritty of things and we have a range of road bikes still to choose from, still with varying geometries and frame materials, at a dizzying array if price points from around £600 up to around £10k. And here I think comes the next key question. Which is the most important item for you, out and out acceleration / hill climbing ability / or price. If you are on a budget (£1200 or less) then you are now narrowed down to an aluminium entry level road bike - potential candidates that we see often on the road would be Giant Defy range, Specialised Allez or similar, or Genesis Volant. These will all be available at around £600- £900 and will feature good quality Shimano groupsets that will offer an entry into the world of roadbiking.
If however, you have more extravagant plans, then the world of Carbon, the material of choice for the whole of the Pro Peleton, is open to you. These frames can blend lightness, stiffness and comfort in incredible ways, defying traditional logic in certain instances (yes frames can be stiff in some areas and shock absorbing in others!)... So now it is a question of homing in on your frame of choice by reading, speaking with vendors, and checking size very very carefully. Clearly all the above discussions will become completely pointless if you end up with an incorrectly sized frame. Especially if you are about to embark upon an expensive purchase... get measured accurately... get a bike fit. For a small percentage of the price of the bike, you can ensure it works optimally for you, maximising your physiological and mechanical attributes.


Each type of frame will lean slightly further to one of the above qualities mentioned (price, stiffness, comfort, and weight)** ...
Me personally, being as I happened to have winter riding, and time trial riding sewn up, I was looking towards a machine that would help me on mountain / hill climb stages, ie a superstiff, superlight carbon machine. It probably is time to mention that another key factor in bike selection is the rider's personality. Traditionalist , leading edge early adopter of technology, easy going, ultra competitive, understated; whichever describes the rider, will also dictate the nature of the bike purchase. It just happens that I am painfully competitive, and hence I opted for a machine that was the closest I could manage to the wonder bike I ride last year in Mallorca; the beautiful Cannondale Supersix Evo. This machine had changed dramatically the complexion of my climb on Sa Calobra, allowing me to zip past a fleet of other riders all on the mountain that day.

My final choice, significantly influenced by a £500 extra special discount for last years model, was the Ridley Helium. At first sight it seems to be exactly what I was hoping, light, fast, zippy, and beautiful. Equipped with Ultegra, and Fulcrum F4 wheels and a dream frame, it gives a great ride on flat and undulating, but adds real sparkle to the hills, positively itching to be let loose on short sharp hits. I am happy again on the road, and I have another motivation to get out and train (to live up to the potential of my new wheels). And finally it seems my stable is complete. For the time being :-)

www.grandtourcycling.co.uk - Let your bike loose on the best roads in Europe...

Cycling Through the Ages....

When I was a nipper... I rode on a beaten up old Raleigh Shopper. I used to build ramps, do jumps, pull wheelies, generally try and pretend I had a BMX (which I was not rich enough to own). Unsurprisingly it broke, after a particularly daring and over ambitious leap through the air that Danny Mcaskill would have been proud of.
Next I graduated to a Dawes Lightning, which was a beaut' ! I rode it to and from school, initially very proud of the GT extensions, and the twin Suntour shifters on the downtube. It even allowed me to start exploring the countryroads around where I lived, and gave me transport to town when I needed it. It walked home with me from school with mates, it even helped me in my early abortive attempts to woo the ladies on the way to and from school. But eventually it too was overtaken. Scratched to pieces, and with buckled wheels, and rusty from haven been left out in the rain one too many times, my heart was stolen away by my first glimpse of a Dawes Ranger in the playground. Furious plotting and planning followed. That bike, or at least something very similar, would be mine...

I got a part time job, and I saved like a Scotsman on a budget. I reviewed every bike available. Friends bought their first mountain bikes, and paraded them around sixth form college proudly. I MUST GET ONE! I dreamt every night of having my own off road vehicle. And eventually, at a princely sum of £279.99 I ordered last year's Specialized Rock Hopper in glorious technicolour yellow. I assembled it in a flash, and tore off to the hills by myself to see what it could do. I bumped and careered along the upland trails, plunged down terrifying descents, with no technical skills, and crashed three times, the final one seeing my front wheel plant in a muddy stream at 20mph and launch me clean over the handlebars sprawling in an ignominious heap. I limped home afterwards, utterly exhilarated.

Soon after, with mates we would push the boundaries, visiting countries far and wide, and in the late teenage years, more than happy to camp, sleep on floors, and even better in exotic destinations - we explored the backpacker network on 2 wheels.

Cycling had revolutionised, and indelibly changed my life. Bikes came and went, and upgrades were purchased as money allowed. At one point we even managed to score a slightly surreal sponsorship deal from Saracen Cycles, for an epic ride across Asia. This slightly more professional arrangement happened to co-incide with my mid to late 20's, I guess a time when I was gradually working out what I wanted from life. Bicycles. Lots of them. And Cycling kit. Lots of it. Parcels and packages and boxes arrived by the truckload. Very cool.

We rode for 519 days this time. And after 28 000 km of bicycling, I kind of found that I had had enough. I even found one day whilst showering that my backside seemed to have changed shape. Its contours had taken on a saddle like form. So I dallied with other forms of activity for a while. I rowed, I ran, I swam, I even climbed and caved. But somewhere, there was a voice calling. "What
about me?" called the 2 wheeled steed of my youth.

At work by now we had started organising trips, and even though I knew so much more about cycle touring, it was still well and truly on the backburner. We organised mainly hill walking, scrambling and canoeing adventures. But folks were starting to ask for 2 wheeled trips. So of course, we obliged.

We took people on trips from London to Paris, and I stuck resolutely to my guns about what cycling meant to me. "You need a good simple, reliable bike" I would instruct people. "Good tyres, no to suspension, but yes, mountain bikes are fine". And folks did ride their MTBs. But things started to change. The tyres got skinnier, the wheels bigger. The handlebars stayed flat, but not for long. We saw the brief rise of the sports hybrid - which brought me across from Mountain Bikes, and on to the tarmac.

For me, the advent of the Sports Hybrid and skinny 700c wheels coincided with young children in my household. This time of my life meant that I wasn't realistically able to drop everything and disappear to the mountains for a long weekend. But slipping out on a summer's evening for a couple of hours was a regular possibility. These training rides quite quickly showed up what road riding can become. I kept watching the speedo. I kept looking at my average speed. And the riding became quite a different experience. It became much more of a pursuit of speed. And once that happened, the flat handlebars were living on borrowed time. My Giant FCR2 - despite the lovely carbon forks, and despite the perfectly adequate Shimano 105, just couldn't cut it. I upgraded to my Genesis Aether 20. And I got my head down, literally, to some more serious riding.

In the meanwhile, the arms race was continuing out on the trips. And riders were starting to venture further afield, joining us on rides from Paris to Munich, and Munich to Venice, and across Italy, and into the Alps. All these journies combined with comfortable digs at the end of the day, and with excellent food, and maybe the odd glass of wine thrown in for good luck. The riding was just as intense, but life after the ride was certainly looking more comfortable, more middle aged some might even say :-(

Carbon fibre machines started to appear on our rides. And at first we scoffed. And then we saw more and more coming, and of course, we became quite envious. The shiny paintwork, the zippy performance, and the downright stylishness of it all got under our skin too. Fortunately we have some good relationships in the cycling industry, and so I was able to negotiate a good deal on my next dream machine. Complete with deep section wheels, I am still somewhat ashamed of the price tag (I always said £600 was enough to buy a really good bike) - but my Cervelo S1 with carbon wheels and 105 throughout doesn't quite fit in that price bracket. But my god was it quick. I had been content with 13-15mph on my old touring adventure mountain bike, then we had progressed to 18 or so with the sports hybrid, and 19 or 20 with the Aether. But the Cervelo, and a good stretch of road, feeling good can get up to 24-25 happily.

The thing is, this bike only gets taken out when it is safe to do so. And it certainly isn't permitted in the hold of a plane, 'she' can only go where I can see her!

And so, last week, I found myself on the perfectly smooth roads of Majorca, in March, in the sunshine. Blitzing along, with the peloton in tow, the sea shimmering away on our right, dancing from one wonderful hotel and restaurant to the next, with quiet clean and beautiful roads in between.



 Here, unlike some of my explorations in India, Cambodia or Indonesia, where it has been necessary to wade through thick fumes, endure clouds of dust, and skilfully avoid dangerous driving, the enjoyment is not something one has to wait a few weeks to look back upon. It is very, very immediate. It is cycling Nirvana. And to cap it off, my journies through the march of bicycle technology reached a place I never expected to go. My steed for this wonderful 4 days in the Balaerics, was a Cannondale Supersix Evo Di2. Electronic gears, married with the lightest productions frame available. The bike was hired I hasten to add. And all in the name of research and cycling knowledge. The electronic gears were precise, efficient, and incredible. But not for me. But when I gave this wonder machine a proper shake down on the wonderous mountain climb of Sa Calobra, I can honestly say I have never encountered a bike like it. Epic performance, in an incredible location, on perfect tarmac. To date, this has been the pinnacle of my cycling. Not withstanding the mountain passes of the Himalayas, or the deserts of Iran and Pakistan, or the rice paddies of Cambodia and Indonesia, this day of riding was simply sublime. But what made it so special, was that it was the right ride, at the right time of my life. And riding has always been like that. It as changed so many times over the years. It gives so many options, so many styles, so many facets, and so much to enjoy. Vive le Velo! To 2 wheels that keep on giving...

www.grandtourcycling.co.uk
www.adventure-cafe.com

 

Awesome Short Break in Aiguestortes Parque Nacional

As a trek leader, there are times when I pack the bags, and rush out of the door, passport, first aid kit, emergency shelter, and gaffer tape at the ready. Often with little time to appreciate the incredible variety of landscapes and experiences that I work in. And then, there are the other times, when I just wish I could bottle the essence of mountain, and sell it to the world. The Aiguestortes would do that trick rather nicely. A nice short journey, good weather at the destination, the most stunning mountains, and fantastic food, this trip has it all.

 

Just a short hop from the UK to either Pau or Lourdes Tarbes airport, and from there are drive of around an hour and a half, will bring you to the trailhead for one of the finest mountain experiences available in Europe.

 

This piece describes how you might consider this as a bit of a wham bam, quick hit and run on the Pyrenees. You can cram it into a Budget flight weekend, but of course, you could happily double, triple, or more the length of time to dedicate to it.

 

We flew into Pau airport (but you might use Lourdes - or if pushed, even Biarritz), and after a short transfer to the French Spanish border, then through Vielha and the Vielha Tunnel, we pulled up at Hospital de Vielha - ready to take on the Pyrenees finest. With poles extended, laces tightened, and food squashed in as best we could for the 2 days ahead, we climbed out of the valley, inevitably winding our way up towards the high and wild mountains. As we climbed up through the pine forests, our breathing adjusted slowly to the task that lay ahead; 2 days of mountain trekking. Our small team of 3, used to trekking together, chatted eagerly for the first couple of kilometres, before settling down to the task ahead.  As the first Col at 2320m approached, that special feeling of anticipation started to build. With blue skies overhead, and the sun rising rapidly in the sky, the canvas was set, for a very special couple of days.

 

Crossing the Port de Rius, the landscape undergoes a simply incredible change. From the unassuming climb, we snuck through a narrow nick of rock at the top, over and into the outer reaches of the Aigues Tortes National Park. Immediately we knew we were in for a special treat, as the first of a series of impossibly beautiful and pure Glacial lakes came into view. The deep blue of the lake makes an impressive backdrop, and contrasts beautifully against the brightness of the pristene wind scoured granite. The sublime combination of colours and crystal clear air are intoxicating, and make the soul and the spirits soar. We sprung along lightfootedly beside a series of lakes, and marvelled at the beautiful waters, and perfect reflections. The walking is so absorbing that miles and hours pass so quickly. The horizon draws you in, the intrigue and amazement of the ever more spectacular surroundings is breathtaking.

 

Our end of day destination was the Refugi de Colomers, an innocuous 12 miles of walking - but of course, cols at 2355m (Port de Rius) and 2570m (Port de Caldes) conspire to make this trek somewhat more arduous. Depending on how you are travelling, this could be a tough day, or fairly manageable. Our recommendation for a fast break like this is certainly to pack light, and enjoy every minute. Also, the weather will change the undertaking considerably, summer weather in the mountains is perfect, especially here in the high Pyrenees, where we spent most of the day above 2000m. You should expect temperatures to fluctuate in the middle of the summer from 25 degrees down to 5 or 10 degrees (closer to feeling like zero with a stiff breeze blowing). We trekked with small packs (as we were making full use of mountain refuge facilities) - and so the day's walk was around 8 hours.

 

With perfect weather conditions, our lunch break beside one of the high mountain lakes was a blissful affair, the warm sun keeping us just warm enough to stretch out on a nice soft grassy lawn. Nothing can really get close to the feeling of soft grass, clear air, and warm sunshine. Add some Spanish Omlette and some Chorizo, and lunch is just what the doctor ordered. Let your eyes close, lay back, and take a few deep breaths... this is what mountains are all about.

 

The walk remained high up for the afternoon, and we reached the intermediate Refugi dera Restanca  in the mid afternoon. Across a long hydro electric barrage, the path reached the Refuge, and our slightly dehydrated bodies were pleased to find the Guardian already serving cold drinks. This was just the tonic we needed to continue on the second stage of our day's trek. Tempting as it may have been to roll out the sleeping bags, our 'camino' wound on, up and over another pass - and further amongst these wondrous peaks.

 

The twin passes of Gueliicrestada and Caldes require a further 500m of ascent, but once again, it brought us into sublime territory. The feeling here is certainly of remoteness, and the mountains became more atmospheric as the day drew towards its close. The whispy white clouds in the deep blue sky had developed through the afternoon, becoming heavier, and greyer as we marched on. By Port de Caldes, our high point for the day, as is so often the case, the wind had freshened to a stiff breeze, whipping our rucsack straps, and encouraging us to hurry off down the hillside towards Colomers. The trail roughened and steepened up coming down the final 400m down towards the lakes of the Circ de Colomers. Certainly this kind of terrain deserves some thought and consideration. Whilst it may not be the domain of extreme altitude, and it was on the waymarked GR11 trail, a slip and tumble here can have serious complications, and can turn an easy and enjoyable day into something very different. With wearying legs we trod carefully on our final descent of the day - and down to the lakeside which we skirted to find our way into the shelter of the Colomers Refuge.

 

The refuge is a wonder of the European Mountains, and no matter how many times I visit, it is always such a great experience to be able to be fed and watered up high in the mountains. Some may find sleeping cheek by jowel with folks from across Europe a disconcerting experience, but I find it life affirming, and always a fascinating way to spend a night. Dinner was served bang on the stroke of 8pm, and with three courses, including thick creamy polenta, tasty gravy sauce and local mountain meat (probably horse!), followed up by fruit for afters, and a cold beer, life just doesn't get much better.

 

An important aspect of any trip to a mountain refuge in Spain, is the etiquette of life in the refuge. First rule is that all bags must stay downstairs (usually in storage lockers or similar). Second, you will usually be offered slippers for use whilst in the refuge, and you should definately NOT enter the refuge with boots on (unless you want unspeakable things to be done to your dinner !). Thirdly, if you get any choice over your bed for the night, there are 2 key factors; firstly stay on the bottom deck, and close to a toilet escape route, or, if you don't generally need night time pit stops, you could consider a window spot, to benefit from fresh air. Fourth: Keep your Headtorch easily accessible. Fifth: Whilst Refugi may look like hotels in the mountains, don't treat them as such. They are staffed by a small team, and any help you can offer clearing tables, putting rubbish in bins, and generally keeping the place tidy, always goes a long way. Finally, remember to take home everything, including all your rubbish, the refuge has enough of its own rubbish to dispose of, and it all has to be carried out.

 

Inevitably the next morning, we all looked around to identify the phantom snorer, who had gurgled and growled through the night. Every person was ready to lynch the person who looked like they had enjoyed a good nights sleep. 11 trekkers had been awake all night, one slept like a baby. Should be easy to guess who? As quick as we could we squashed our sleeping bags away, and made for breakfast. For those of you who are not experienced visitors to rural Spain, it could be that the breakfast ('Desayuno') will take you by surprise. Forget Egg and Bacon, forget Porridge, in fact forget anything apart from coffee and some stale bread and biscuits. The Spanish simply don't believe in breakfast. It could be something to do with often taking dinner at 10pm at night. For trekkers used to early nights, and big days however, this can be tough. Forearmed is forewarned though, and you might just want to pack some little extra treats from home for this part of the weekend's adventure.

 

The upside of this less than memorable meal is that it hardly held us up from getting off and away. Good thing too, as outside the day was dawning bright and beautiful, once again we tramped straight into the continuing mini lake district of the Aiguestortes, or in English - the Park of winding Streams. Immediately our path plucked a route through the heart of the park, through the lakes of Plan, Long and Redon, before climbing up to Obago. The pleasant fresh mountain air warmed steadily as the sun climbed higher and we emerged from the morning shadows into warm sunshine.

 

The second day of this two day trek is very similar in distance, at 12 miles, but easier physically with just one pass, at 2580m the high point of this trek. We were then once again treated to another incredible change in horizon. From being drawn to the incredible lakes, and the reflections and shades of blue in the water, over the Port de Ratera, our eyes were drawn to two incredible peaks. The amazing silhouettes of the Enchanted Peaks - 'Els Encantets' greeted us like the Twin Towers of the Pyrenees. Positioned perfectly amongst an impossibly beautiful layered landscape of blues and purples, the 2 twin peaks draw the eye inexorably. The path descends at a gentle rate through the layers of a perfect mountainscape, and provides some most enjoyable walking. With time to savour the epic view, and not requiring high concentration we walked on, and chatted as we dropped away down towards the Lake of Estany St Maurici, and then onwards into the Espot Valley.

 

As the afternoon wore on and we dropped further and further the sun became ever warmer and more powerful. Our feet appreciated a generous lunch break, once again beside the water, where we dipped feet in the freezing mountain stream waters gurgling down the valley bottom. The trek finishes off with a steady descent of the sweeping Espot Valley, following the lightly used valley track which eventually gives out to a narrow tarmac road. Our journey is at an end, and we turn to savour these 2 amazing days in the mountains.

 

To cap our 2 incredible days of trekking off, we had reserved a night in La Guingueta, in a reasonably priced but very comfortable simple Spanish Hotel. Either a short taxi ride, or a further 6 miles down the road, brought us to La Guingueta - where there are a choice of places to eat, and a couple of nice places to stay.

 

After a pleasant overnight, and more than a couple of cool fresh Estrellas, a classic tasty Spanish dinner was our reward for 2 days on the trail, and the journey home was a mere formality. The hotel connects perfectly for the return journey, and is just over 2 hours by road to the airport. From here, the wonders of the budget airlines will bring you back to the UK. 2 of the finest days of mountain walking, to be found anywhere. That's anywhere, any continent, this is mountain-ness of the highest order. What are you waiting for? Get going!

 

 

 

Best Time of Year

 

Mid June - Mid September

 

Weather

 

As ever - you should expect everything. But it should be pleasantly warm most of the time - increasing to hot in the valley bottoms (up to 27-28) and cooler at the tops of the Cols (typically down to 10 -15 degrees).

 

Navigation

 

The trails are well marked using the Grand Randonee Red and White splashes. Also from time to time named signposts exist. However, nothing should replace your ability to navigate. Poor visibility can render the high mountains disorientating, and although the trail is generally benign, terrain just off to the side can be difficult and dangerous.  Best of all would be to engage the services of an International Mountain Leader for such a mountain journey. www.adventure-cafe.com 01460 249191.

 

 

Essential Kit List

                                First Aid

                                Walking Poles

                                Mini Storm Shelter

                                Sleeping Bag / Silk Liner

                                Change of Clothes

                                Full Mountain Clothes - including waterproofs & leggings

                                Sunhat

                                Sunglasses

                                Suncream

                                Water Bottle + Extra Water Carrying Capacity

                                Snacks (& Optional Breakfast Extras)

                                Maps / Mapcase / Compass

                                Good Quality boots

 

Reservations

 

                                Refugi Colomers - http://www.refugicolomers.com/

 

Last Minute Items

                                Food / Trekking Gear / Medical etc. Available in town of Vielha, just before passing through the tunnel to the start of the trek.

 

Transfers

                                May be done by taxi (relatively expensive) - or by hire car. Or you can join an organised trek - to take away some of these difficulties.

 

                                Airport - Hopital Vielha - Approx. 1.5 hrs

                                La Guingueta - Airport - Approx 2 hrs.

 

Maps

                                Adventure Cafe recommends the Institut Cartografic Catalunya Series - which are generally accurate and sufficiently detailed for accurate navigation.

 

 

Richard McLaughlin is a member of the British Association of International Mountain Leaders, and leads treks around the world, in Africa, Asia, Europe and all around the UK, in summer and winter. Experienced as a mountain leader, climber, cyclist, caver and by Sea Kayak, he has been lucky enough to travel the world extensively. To find out more, or to engage his services, contact Adventure Cafe. www.adventure-cafe.com

Bikes, Bedouin's and Bazaars...Cycle to the Sahara

Cycle The Sahara

From the minute the plane touches down, and you eye the distant snowcapped Atlas Mountains and the palm trees that surround the airport, you can smell the exotic atmosphere of the Imperial City of Marrakech. Any time we spend on two wheels is always special, but as we cross the Atlas Mountains and head out desert bound through the Anti Atlas, and each day passes, a new and ever more spectacular landscape unfolds before us. At Grand Tour Cycling and Adventure Cafe, we know a thing or two about cycling adventures, having ridden the Alps, the Pyrenees, the Australian Outback, the Rainforests of Sumatra, and even the high and mighty Himalayas. Believe us when we say that a week's cycling adventure simply doesn't get much better than this.

       

Our evening before setting forth into the wilds of Morocco allows us to sample the energy, sights, smells and sounds of Marrakech's wonderful Medina (Old Town) and main square the Djema El Fna. In itself a destination and experience worth a flights alone, on this ride, this is only the tip of a wonderful iceberg! Early the next day, we ride up the winding mountain road to cross the Tizi n Tichka - the high pass across the Atlas Mountains, before enjoying screeching descent to the only major large town on the fringes of the desert.

            We then ride to the amazing Dades Gorge, to witness the deep red earth, and impossibly shaped rock formations, and we continue onwards through the Valley of the Roses, to reach the biblical Todra Gorge. This Gorge is an epic slice that cuts like a knife through sheer and towering walls of orange limestone, populated by a small collection of guesthouses, and a crystal clear stream running through the heart of the valley. We spend our third night here before riding on further into the wilderness.

            From Tinerhir (last main town near Todra Gorge), the road branches off shortly and becomes eerily quiet, now pointing squarely at the dunes of Merzouga. The tranquil road is home to the odd small group of grazing camel, and goatherds lazing under shady trees to avoid the midday sun. We have just one more overnight before the road makes its final southwards spur, and reaches the towering dunes at Merzouga. On arrival in the desert, we have time to relax, shower, let the heat of the day subside, before we head out in the late afternoon to watch the sun set on a most amazing ride. The colours of Morocco reach their climax here, with deep blue sky fading to deep purple, and the orange sand reddening as the sun slips behind the high dunes.

Distance: - 360 miles

Days Cycling: - 5

Max Altitude: - 2260m

Typical Average Daily Max. Temp: - 25 degrees

Start : Marrakech

End : Merzouga

Departures: 25th March 2014 & 8th October 2014

Price = £599pp

South Somerset Screamer Sportive - 10th November '13

As we placed the waymarkers, the rain tumbled from the heavens, and the last dirty vestiges of daylight dwindled. Spray splashed from the roads, and placing the markers near the drainage ditches in the gathering darkness of the levels became a hazardous occupation. We wondered quite what tomorrow would bring. As the riders assembled at 07:30 though, the stage was already set, and the anticipation was building. A 180 degree blue sky smiled down upon us, and a buzz passed through the start line with a minute to go until 08:20, 84 miles across some of the UK's finest countryside... and a perfect day on 2 wheels lies ahead.

This, the inaugural Adventure Café South Somerset Screamer had a sign up of some 60 riders - a very respectable turnout for a first event, but a manageable number for a mass rollout down West Street and into South Petherton. The peleton stretched out as we rode across the levels to Muchelney Abbey, and by the time we had made the short but stiff climb up to the historic Hanging Chapel at Langport, and then on to High Ham, everyone had worked the early excitement and over exuberance out of their systems. Over to our right Glastonbury Tor gave us a cheeky wink from across the levels in the distance - near enough to touch, but a long and challenging ride lay ahead before we would reach the Tor.

Blitzing through the chicane of High Ham, the riders pick up speed down the fantastic downhill to the moors, and then across the first long flat classic Levels straight. With Heron and Egret beside us, and withies rising from the drainage channels, set against a crystal azure sky, riding quite simply doesn't get much better. But just as one settles into a rhythm, the Polden ridge looms into view, and gives riders a kick in the quads. After this brief undulation, we scream down through Shapwick and Westhay, bound for our first feed station over one more blip, in the quaint Somerset village of Wedmore - also known as the Queen of the Moors. 'Mmmm, Doughnuts.... mmm Pastries' the late breakfast was appreciated by the assembled group, but not for too long, the warm sunshine made it too easy to linger, but ahead, the famous Cheddar Gorge was calling.

From Wedmore, an easy 4 miles brings us into Cheddar Village, where riders carefully negotiate aimless, wandering tourists, before passing a handful of cheese emporia, and entering the towering, gaping Gorge. The hill itself is not as fearful as one might imagine, with only a couple of truly steep sections, but it winds on, and on, climbing some 193m over 5.1km. With some 3500 Strava Riders visiting this climb, it rates as one of the UK's true biggies - behind only the legendary (ahem!) Box Hill and a few others. But without a doubt, this is a very special piece of tarmac, winding through millions of years of Geology, smattered with walkers, riders, climbers and cavers, this is, to coin a phrase... Epic!

When we emerge from the bowels of the earth, we are once again bathed in sunshine, stop the Mendips, and we ride through the perfect village of Priddy, before we all too quickly leave the Mendips behind, descending carefully on leafy roads into Wells. The smallest city in Britain is left behind in a flash, and we climb up and away. Anyone with any energy left at this point might have caught a glimpse of the cathedral back and behind us, it too enjoying the midday sunshine, as the riders ploughed on. Our road continues to climb, and then, the standout view for me of the ride follows, as we reach the crest and descend once more towards Glastonbury, now finally the Tor comes back within range. The Tor stands alone, surrounded by lush green farmland, gently pulling us in, one of Somerset's finest sights.

By way of a nasty shock, one of the toughest short climbs awaits beside the Tor, climbs up the anonymous side street of Bove Town, and  is a tricky little customer, especially when everyone is expecting an easy passage on easier ground across the levels once again. The descent is no easier, and is a twisty, slimy affair that doesn't allow you to regain any momentum. But after completing almost a full circuit, we ride beneath the Tor for a fleeting moment, and then away South once more, homeward bound.

The final section of the ride treats riders to some tricky undertyre conditions, with some finest rustic terrain, as we head down through the villages of Butleigh, and Compton Dundon, before a brief joining with a faster B Road to reach the historic capital of Wessex - Somerton. Tired, hungry, riders stave off low blood sugar at the final feed station, now with the final 20 miles or so in their sights.

But its not an easy final leg, still some surprises lay in wait. The road rises and falls gently once again right down to almost sea level, through Long Sutton to Long Load, before the final series of small climbs begin. From the scenic crossing of the Yeo at Long Load, we push ourselves on through the villages of Ash, Tintinhull, and the incredibly pretty Montacute complete with its Stately Home, Country Park, St Michael's Tower Folly, and the by now extremely tempting Phellips Arms, it is surely worth a return visit on a more relaxed day? But in a matter of seconds we have blurred through, and out into woodland again - now heading to our final obstacle. A sharp left turn confronts us in the centre of Stoke Sub Hamdon, and the road rears up - a mini wall of tarmac - Ham Hill surges ahead. With heavy legs, I slip backwards, and my riding partner pulls agonisingly ahead of me - drawing out a lead of some 30 seconds, as we crest the Iron Age Hill Fort. I glance to my right, at the stunning view across to Norton, and the Blackdown Hills in the distance - but there's no time for that. I need to catch the man ahead. I push the pedals harder, and try to accelerate down the hill, ploughing through the final 'special stage' passing the muddy roads of Over Stratton, and across the roundabout at Lopenhead... but its too late, a glorious day of riding, and 84 miles has reached its crescendo. The Adventure Café tent welcomes us in, and checks our times. Tea and cakes await in the offices. Just remains for me to remind my riding partner that although he arrived 20 seconds before me, I actually set off 5 minutes after him.... competitive... moi?

 

The Transfagarasan Highway

As we rode up from Bucharest my heart akipped and my mind raced, full of memories of previous encounters and battles with mountain passes. From riding the Grossglockner Strasse in Austria, through to my first Himalayan High Road - riding from Siliguri up to Darjeeling, and then on to more and more high passes around the world, I think there is little to rival the excitement that builds in the ride to the foot of a world classic climb.
These roads are world renowned.  These roads are beautiful beyond compare. These roads have been crafted by skilled engineers and by suffering and hardy workers. But for us, the best of these roads offer names to conjure with, and the promise of more endorphines than an Ironman could want for.

The road from Bucharest is pan flat, not too busy, and we work together. As is common when riding beneath a range of mountains, there is a prevailing wind that repels us ...  but luckily our team of 8 are a good bunch... and we rotate the lead, each taking our turn.. The sun shines and a huge blue sky arches overhead, as we whizz by village folk watching our dayglo colours streak past. The children wave, the adults slightly aloof, but still interested. As the road climbs and we leave the city of Pitesti behind, there is an air of reaching tourist country, as the houses smarten up, and people around about seem in jovial mood.
We ride up to the small village of Capateni slightly unsure of how high we have to climb, but we roll into Pension Dracula in goos time, ready for a good hearty Transylvanian meal...

Snow in April?

So, I think it's fair to say it has been a strange start to the year. Not great for runners, or riders. It has either been wet, or if it has been dry, it has been freezing beyond being fun... but we felt sure that come the beginning of April, our first London to Paris would be fine! Warmth would surely break through those winter clouds, and we would have a sunny and pleasant pedal to Paris... How wrong could we be?

Standing shivering in Dover Harbour, awaiting boarding the ferry, I wondered how we had got so unlucky with the weather. I also wondered whether I would ever be warm again. But on the plus side, at least the roads were dry. Small compensation for numb fingers and ice filled bones :-)

The French side faired little better riding along the Cote Opale. I could barely raise much enthusiasm for the beautiful rolling ride across Cap Griz Nez and Cap Blanc Nez, in fact it really took until the final morning pushing off from Beauvais, until we all felt some warmth return. Approaching the River Seine just after Pontoise, the mercury just nudged ten degrees.... for a matter of minutes. But that combined with a few rays of sunshine was enough to lift the spirits.

Thankfully, like all successful challengers, the team from Jubilee Halls, were troopers. Despite the temperature, they never once let their spirits drop. Smiles and determination won the day, and as you can see, on arrival at the Eiffel Tower, the team let out one almighty cheer (well several actually).

And of course... once the bikes were safely stowed at the hotel. The team celebrated with celery juice and oatcakes (ahem!) ... in time honoured fashion, the afterglow of a fantastic 280 miles of riding gave the team all the energy they needed to get fully stuck in to Paris' best hospitality... culminating with some fairly surreal dancing antics in a Student Venue beside the canal... look out Strictly!

Next trip departs in May, then further trips in July, August, and September. Both 4 day routes, 3 day routes, and even the extreme 24 hour version are all available. For more details click here:

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