I DID IT!  I actually managed to cycle the entire length of Britain from John O'Groats to Land's End!  1,000 miles in NINE DAYS!  

I rode in the memory of my little god daughter Ondine.  She died when she was 7 months old, inexplicably, in her cot in March 2004 and so I'm raising money for FSID - the Foundation for the Study of Infant Deaths.

Thank you so much to everyone who has already sponsored me - together we've raised well over £5k already!  My report of the ride is below - do have a look and feel free to sponsor me.  This site will remain open for a little while longer yet.

Your support means the world to me and definitely helped me cross that finish line at the end of every long hard day of cycling with my head held high and a big smile on my face. 

With much love and gratitude

Roz x

Ride Across Britain website:  http://www.rideacrossbritain.com 

 

Day 1. John O'Groats to Kyle of Sutherland - 104 miles and 6518 ft of ascent

I'm sitting in my little tent at the end of day 1 and the only thing wrong is the fact the first day is already over. It was fantastic. 104 miles through some of the wildest, most remote parts of Northern Scotland. We set off in rain, wind and heavy grey sea clouds and finished whistling through the honey scented brilliant yellow gorse, chased by our shadows, warmed by the sun. Low point: puncture on the back wheel at mile 5 - not as well rehearsed or well prepared as I should have been! High point: Beautiful Bettyhill and stopping to gaze at the massive sandy beach and high surf rollers.

This is an amazing event - 600 riders and at times you could be riding solo. Pit stops at 35 and 75 miles full of bananas and chocolate and smiley volunteers and handy Halford men who know all about bikes and know a good one when they see it! Hundreds of tents in a row like a battle scene from Lord of the Rings. Catering tent doshing up fantastic food, massage tent to relieve those tight quads and sore back and the "iconic tent" with big TVs for the footy, chill out zones, papers, music etc. RAB rocks!

Day 2:  Kyle of Sutherland to Loch Linhe - 99 miles and 8537 ft of ascent

The weather forecast was annoyingly accurate today - rain all morning, clearing at twelve for approximately 24 minutes and raining again until 9.30 p.m. when it would clear. Which it did - revealing that our muddy Glastonburyesque field was actually in the foothills of Britain's highest mountain! Despite being soaked all day it was a great ride along the length of Loch Ness, Loch Oik (!) and Loch Linhe. Low point: Leaving pit stop one absolutely soaked to the skin and shivering with cold. High Point:  The swing bridges, the last third, Ben Nevis and the James Cracknell inspirational speech - "dig deep - more is in you".

Day 3:  Loch Linhe to East Renfrewshire - 129 miles and 10,691 feet of ascent

We paid for the rain yesterday with blue skies and hot sun today.  Glencoe can feel an eerie haunted place sometimes, but not today.  Today it was perfect.  130 miles, 10,000 feet of climbing.  All day in the saddle.  Pure happiness!  Low point:  Feeling shaky and light-headed after attempting to chase down Rebecca Romero with 25 miles left to go. "Show her how it's done Roz!"  shouted Leah as I powered away.  Needless to say, she clearly already knows how it's done and I had no chance!  High point:  Cycling over Glencoe and looking out across Rannoch Moor to see Schiehallion in perfect silhouette.  Prof. Greg Whyte (of Eddie Izzard running, David Walliams Channel fame) was here this evening.  That was pretty cool too.

Day 4:  East Renfrewshire to Ullswater - 130 miles and 8154 ft of ascent

I didn't think it could get any better than yesterday but I think today might just have tipped it. We unzipped our tents (at 5 a.m.!) to find another stunning morning and it stayed that way all day. Easy riding out of Glasgow, rolling hills through the Scottish borders.  I found a new source of energy (someone called me the Duracell Bunny!)  and made a decision to ride at my own pace, joining groups for a bit of banter but riding solo for much of the day. I felt on top of the world and got back to camp at 4.30 p.m., giving me enough time to loaf in the sun enjoying the idyllic setting, a hot shower, great massage, a hearty supper and some time in the well named iconic tent. High points:  Reaching pit stop 1 in 2 hours (35 miles), coming over the brow of the hill and seeing Ullswater glistening in the afternoon sun, surrounded by all the fells welcoming us home.  Also, when Michelle got back to camp at 8.45 p.m. after 14 hours on the road we all came out to the finish line and clapped and cheered her home.  That little scene couldn't pass without a tear!  Low point: New knee pain which feels like someone is bashing the top of my shins with a heavy wooden mallet!

Day 5: Ullswater to Manchester - 114 miles 7139 feet.  

The big news this evening is the sickness epidemic sweeping across the camp. People are being struck down mid-pedal,  the medical tent is teeming with pale waifs shivering in foil blankets and there is a little area of quarantined tents.  Think bubonic plague. James Cracknell gave a speech tonight about how we must all wash our hands more (surreal!).  You can imagine that I have become even more obsessively Howard Hughesish than usual! This aside, it was another brilliant day out on the road and did not feel too hard.  Mallet-knee cured by genius trainee sports therapist's clever strapping.  I was nonchalantly one of the last to leave. Kirkstone Pass greeted us within two minutes of leaving camp -1700 feet of climbing followed by a long sweeping descent with stunning Lake District views in PERFECT weather.  Low Point: leaving the Lakes behind. High Point: happily pedalling through rolling rural England. And Jody Cundy's talk - he's amazing.

 

Day 6: - the Big Controversy. 

There is chuntering in the camp tonight which is a shame because the setting (Ludlow race course) is stunning and the sun was still hot at 7pm as massages took place outside and socks dried on the guy ropes. The chuntering was all about a very steep hill called the Long Mynd. A 25% gradient up a very narrow pathway at mile 80 after 600 miles
meant that very few of the troops made it to the top in their saddles. I know the feeling of disappointment as the strength in your legs, gears, lungs fails you. But I also know that later that night Cracknell admitted he was glad his chain broke as it gave him an excuse not to make it. It was a massive challenge which some managed (25 of the most
serious wippets) and most did not. The other ongoing controversy is The Bug. We now have an official cordoned off area for infested tents and d+v toilets. People are eyeing each other suspiciously... We only have 3 days to go!

Apart from all that - today was my hardest day. The low point was not the Mynd for me, it was the creaky start of the day with everything feeling painful (and did someone put a cactus in my shorts??) and with energy levels low. The High point was the top of the Mynd, the beautiful rolling countryside, the coke and crisps rescue remedy and seeing Mum and Dad at the finish line.

Day 7: Ludlow to Cheddar - 110 miles 8617 ft

Today's minor controversy was a long hilly detour to pit stop 1. Chuntering of the masses resumed. The plague continues to spread and about 50 riders were eliminated over night. Threshold staff and the army of fantastic volunteers continue to hold it together and the iconic tent and log fire raised spirits this eve. For my part, I had another
amazing happy day, loving every second of it. Achilles and knees are successfully strapped and pain is minimal. Low point: Bristol burbs in rainy rush hour. High point: Burrington Combe - the new love of my life. It's a magical beautiful rolling hill we ascended in the last 5 miles. The Forest of Dean and Wye valley in warm sun were also pretty
special. And of course it made all the difference to see Mum and Dad on the finish line again.

Two more days to resist The Bug - and tomorrow is very long and v-e-r-y hilly....

Day 8: the penultimate push.

 

"It's a hard day today Roz" Mack warned me at the water tap this morning. It was a chilly damp morning and 117 miles and 7000 ft of ascent stretched before us. I hobbled back to my little tent to collect my stuff and then Simon, my cycling buddy and I set off (late, of course - all his fault). Mack was right - the riding was tough, the hills relentless. But I think it was made harder by the fact that the end is almost in sight. Once I could ignore the end goal and go back to focusing on the stages of the day then I was completely fine and I enjoyed the fast descents and steady climbs (the Castelli girls shouting "go Roz" was foolhardy, but they weren't to know!). The route was stunning. It really is true that mental strength is everything on a challenge like this.

Low point: the lack of pub or caff from mile 97 to mile 107! Also a v swollen right achilles. : A total stranger who asked what we were doing and when I told him he gave me some money for FSID. Also, the Gambatti team's story - two guys who are riding for their friend Kenny who was recovering from cancer but who died suddenly 6 weeks before they were all due to do the challenge. "When you see the two of us riding together, see a third - see Kenny riding with us".

I look at my site and read all the messages from the people who sponsored me and you really truly spur me on. So, on the eve of the final day, thank you so much for your love and support - see you at !

 

Day 9:  the finale

Every morning at 530am we are woken to the sound of a Threshold track choice.  Today it was "the Final Countdown".  As if I needed any more inspiration!  The usual morning routine was accelerated in the excitement and emotion of this morning - pack, wash, do water bottles, garmin, breakfast, bags to the truck, strapping, tears and we're off for the final time.  Today lived up to all it promised.  Warm, sunny, breezy beautiful Cornwall greeted us like old friends.  We sped along to the wind blown sand dunes on the north coast, whizzing up and down over the hills until the glorious sight of St Michael's mount in turquoise water greeted us.  Penzance.  We could almost taste Land's End.  Simon and I couldn't stop, nor could we allow ourselves to admit that the end was near.  It was only as we pedalled along the high road after the St Buryan turning that I shouted "I'm officially excited!".  With whoops of relief and happiness we crested the final hill and saw it - spread out before us - the southern tip of Britain, the endless blue horizon and most importantly the FINISH LINE!  Crowds clapped us in, Mum and Dad were there with hugs and presents and pride and then there followed an exhilarating whirl of medals, photos, hugs, tears, cheers and pure unadulterated joy.  There were no low points today - not the elephant like right ankle, nor the steep 16% gradient at Newlyn (what hill?), nor the overcrowded 2nd pitstop, nor Simon's second puncture just as we were nailing it - nothing could touch today.  It was perfect. 

"It's not just cycling - it's everything".