16th Regiment Royal Artillery - End to End Challenge (Land's End to John O'Groats)

 

Inspired by our leader Capt Wayne Eynon, 16th Regiment Royal Artillery cyclists will soon embark on a mamouth cycle covering 1017 miles (assuming we don't get lost!).  Training is going well with Maj 'Scouse' Markham ensuring we get plenty of time in the saddle and miles into our legs.  Like an episode of Last of The Summer Wine we have been up hill and down dale through wind, rain, fog and frozen periods.

We intend to complete the ride in no more than 10 days, with our support crew we will be bedding down at Caravan Club Sites along the way.  The Caravan Club have been fantastic and deserve particular praise in assisting us.  Capt Eynon is gutted he can't take his plastic chateaux with him.

We have decided to raise money for The Army Benevolent Fund, Help for Heroes and The Royal Artillery Charitable Trust.  As Officers and soldiers we all know someone who has been affected by war either in our time or from past conflicts.  These charities go some considerable way to help make life a little more barable for these selfless individuals. 

I will keep you all posted with our progress.  In the meantime any sponsorship you can afford is very welcome. 

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4^th May 2010

We began our journey with a relatively pain free journey down to RNAS Culdrose, with the boys in the Pantec arriving in the early afternoon. The main body departed under strict direction of Wayne at 0800 which turned out to be 0900 by the time Jim had a bacon roll. Within 2 miles of the camp gates we joined a traffic jam which was the result of a lorry driving over a car. With the understanding that the camp gates would be closed for three hours, we decided to take refuge in a local inn and have a culinary experience before commencing on our voyage of discovery.

5^th May 2010

After a hearty pay as you dine breakfast in the ratings mess/galley/cook house, we drove down to Lands End which was an underwhelming experience, as the sign had been removed until Thursday and all of the toilets were locked, even the ones in the model village. This did not damage our spirits as we were required to save face due to the media interest from the British Forces Broadcasting Service. Cathy's journalistic abilities were akin to Moira Stewart, without the hair mousse. Her piece to camera with our departure was on film, along with several cyclists frantically trying to clip in to their pedals. We were finally under way and no sooner had we departed, Wayne required us to stop within 1 mile of Land's End to relieve the pressure from his child's sized bladder. Spirits were high as we peddled our machines over the hills and into the valleys. Cornwall had in store for us some very long climbs, of note Hamburger Hill, aptly named due to a famous fast food chain with golden arches, being situated halfway up. Robbie's pleas for nourishment were declined and we pressed on. The rest of the day was uneventful, except for the monumental luncheon of sausage rolls from the night before, garnished with the finest budget crisps money can buy. Some people decided to enhance their core meal with a bacon roll, but others furnished themselves with a humble cup of our nation's finest. More hills were to follow then a gentle descent into Bude, unfortunately our Physical Training Instructors failed to complete the entire day and decided to stop short by a mile by claiming that they had got lost. When were caught up with them, Jay and Alex were eating ice creams and spinning the front wheels to build up the mileage.

We were then driven to the camp site which was a sight for sore eyes, sadly not for the caravaners which were blessed with a set of Army tents with a flagpole marking our territory, amongst very territorial proud people. We were treated to a culinary delight of Roast Pork with all the trimmings by LCpl Anders and his commis chefs, which were also the lads who put the tents together. Everyone was hit by a wave of tiredness, with most people retiring to bed before 2100, except for Jim and Mike who went to the local pub under the premise of finding a Wi-Fi connection. Their Sauvignon Blanc hydration scheme was a novel approach, but it paid off the next day.

6^th May

It rained. It rained upon awakening and did not stop. Our stirring breakfast was the archetypal English breakfast which was very well received. What more can be said? The hills were hillier and the rain was rainier and the legs were weaker, or rather not as strong as the first day. It was a day which would have been called off in any respectable cycling calender, but we soldiered on. We broke at the 22 mile point and discovered Liberache alive and well, who had gone into business with his friend, serving cream teas in Devon. Our presence took the proprietors by a surprise and some jubilation, with a mutual jubilation for the tea and scones.

Visibility was restricted due to the rain and it took its toll. Belinda ploughed through the remnants of a Badger which everyone else managed to avoid, but we maintain it was done out of malice. Jay failed to notice an overtaking car, until in swerved through a deep puddle which engulfed him in what can only be described as a damp misery.

Lunch was taken at a service station car park where we duly ate our tuna and pasta in the comfort of our wet clothes. We attracted a spectator in his flat cap, glasses, raincoat and a puzzled look on his face. After we finished our lunch we then set off to our expected finish point in Bridgewater, which we then moved slightly further away in order to minimise tomorrow's pain. Watch this space!!

Friday 7^th

Whitchurch to Hereford

The Severne Bridge today! Such excitement, was instilled into the throng of cyclists as we were crossing one of several keystone bridges that our Great Britain has to offer. En route, Mike had a puncture and required the REME support of Albie when Mike showed the proverbial yellow flag. Unlike tradition, the REME did actually stop and assist rather than drive past laughing. We crossed the bridge and anticipated the arrival of our other cycling strip which was delivered under blue light by Wayne's Best Man, Allun Thomas. We also met a fellow cyclist, Shaun, who was also raising money for our charities, however, he was flying solo with 40kg of kit on a mountain bike and was duly invited to dinner at our camp site should he arrive. We peddled into Hereford and jumped straight into the waiting wagons, which promptly delivered us to within 800m of the camp site. Belinda's friend Kate joined us with her daughter Isla, who was a very boisterous baby. Shaun very kindly offered to hold Isla, whilst Kate enjoyed her Korma, when Shaun announced that Isla had had a surprise movement, which was swiftly followed through by vomiting over him. A lesson in volunteering to be learnt! In addition to contributing visitng babies, Belinda very kindly organised a visit from a Masseuse, which was a very welcome treat. Jim described it as a felling normally attributed to being mugged.

Saturday 8^th

Hereford to Whitchurch

We began our efforts on cracking Shrewsbury, when Robbie complained of losing all sensation in his finger. This was due to him developing vibration white finger, an ailment commonly associated with those operating vibrating equipment. It was a particularly grim day, with heavy throughout, with only our food to look forward to. Sadly, this was not to happen as the support vehicle was on a road parallel with ours, with the driver looking for 'Parallel'. Never mind, we found a 'Kebabulance' which was co-located with a general auction. What an experience that turned out to be. Robbie popped to the loo and Mike enquired into the serviceability of the facilities. Robbie promptly asked if anyone had seen the film 'Trainspotting'. We had to keep an eye out on everything, as the natives were eyeing our machines as potential lots in the auction. At one stage, concerns were pointed towards Belinda for fear of her being rolled up into a rug and auctioned off. After a particularly wet day, we had the fortune to be settled into hard accommodation at RAF Shawbury, where we were guests of the camp and were allowed to use the astroturf and gym facilities, as we were actually accommodated in the gym.

Sunday 9^th

Northwich, Warrington, Wigan, Chorley, Preston, Lancaster to Milnthorpe

 

An urban journey today, quite bland compared to the countryside of the South West, which even Wordsworth himself would have difficulty to describe. Due to the high levels of urbanisation, we were subjected to a number of traffic calming measures (drain gratings camouflaged as cycle lanes), which are not strictly compatible with cyclists. This made the journey quite frustrating for Wayne, as we were constantly being separated. This then became a self perpetuating problem as Wayne clearly became tired of the people at the back of the Peloton. Our G4 demon, Bradders dug out blind that evening by talking himself into a TA centre, whose custodian was very welcoming and accommodating man. We then ended the day, with everyone particularly tired, but Jim and Mike stayed until closing time, sadly it was Sunday hours.  Paul Webster, Wayne's Wife's Cousin's Husband made a nominal fantastic appearance, as he was often spotted in the prone position taking photos of us the group which were absolutely perfect.  He actually stayed with us all morning continuing to follow us and snap

Monday 10^th

^{Kendal to Hawick (Scotland)}

We began the day in a layby, as per usual. We were treated to two of Wayne's friends, Rob and Mike, who are keen cyclists. They were also keen on taking the lead which was a massive helping hand when we cycled up to Shap (the halfway point on the LeJOG). Shap can only be described as “10 miles of discipline” according to Belinda, Mike suggested that there were no words which could be used to call it. En route to Penrith, we encountered some temporary traffic lights which forced a diversion onto the pavement, or not in the case of Mike who was lying on the pavement, attached to the bicycle whilst the road workers chuckled on. With some grit and determination, we all pulled through and on to Longtown, where we welcomed our Commanding Officer and RSM and said farewell to Rob and Mike. The CO brought his own saddle which was REMEed onto his bicycle by Albie and the RSM was able to install his own gel seat cover on to his saddle. With our guests fully tested and adjusted we re started the journey. The CO said he felt 'euphoric and might take up cycling when he returned to camp', however, this was a short lived feeling of euphoria and soon turned into a numbness. Following a well timed phone call, our guests soon departed and we were on our own again. Jim's weakness soon kicked in and confined in Mike that he had to use the small front cog climbing up to Shap. Mike was not amused and said that a true King of the Hills, Alberto Contador would not use it. Lance (Mike) maintains his pedigree of only using the large cog up to Shap.

Tuesday 11th

Hawick to Perth

A true celebration of all the types of weather today, half an hour of sunshine, which soon turned into rain, which then turned into sleet and then into snow.  Robbie's vibration white finger/arthritis is playing up again, but his golf grip is ok.  We stopped at one of our quintessential teashop NAAFI breaks in a Gallery/Cafe, proprieted by two buxom ladies.  Jim spotted 'Distress at Sea' by Sue Oliver, print 4 of 54, a triptic piece of art which caught his eye.  Albie was concerned that the temperature of the hot chocolate was not correct.  We crossed the Forth Road Bridge, on what can only be described as the retreat from Moscow.  We cycled 65 miles before a lunch break as there was quite literally no where to stop for lunch, except for the Golden Arches just off of the bridge, but we savoured our appetites and only had a McWee instead.  A long day, which transpired into almost a 100 mph as we passed the TA centre which was our refuge for that evening.  Wayne, Jim and Mike decided to round the day off with a Century by cycling half a mile to a round-a-bout and then cycling back to the gates.  Sadly, this was not enough and they ended up doing a lap of the car park to take them up to 100 miles.

Wednesday 12th

Perth to 15 miles south of Inverness.

A day which celebrates the begining of an era, 23 years ago, Mike's birthday.  Jim missed H-hour as his admin was sub-standard, but we got off to a flying start and really cranked up the pace, lead by Albie.  We had a very fast 25 miles, all in good weather, climbing for the first 15 miles.  We stopped for lunch and saw 3 characters running in the opposite direction, who were clearly in pain and/or running from the authorities.  It actually turned out to be B-list celebrity, Matthe Pritchard from the TV series Dirty Sanchez.  Mike thank Prtichard for his performance at IKON in Newcastle in 2007, but Pritchard seemed unimpressed.  We then did a rapid 28 miles, with Contador and Armstrong firing up a Peleton.  Wayne was complaining of 'exploding knees' so we had to back down and come off of the attack, but he did well to muster up a triumphant finish to the day.  We settled down to dinner of a BBQ compliments of LCpl Anders who has been a credit to the 16th Regiment Royal Artillery Catering Troop.  Bdr Bradford managed to blag £70 of meat for £13 from a local butcher who was either sympathetic to our cause or just wanted piece and quiet. 

 

Thursday 13th

15 Miles South of Inverness to Helmsdale.

A tail wind, today, the first and only.  Our spirits were high as we flew along at 16 mph up hills and we celebrated the early success with tea and cake at a lively supermarket cafe (Panini and Chips for Robbie).  It was a straight forward ride today, keep spinning until we got to Helmsdale.  At our finishing point of the day 'The Wee Cafe', we were briefed up on the Herculean slopes which were to challenge us.  When driving back to Inverness for the evening, Albie was horrified when Wayne said he was not going to either; A) Last Parade his vehcile or B) First Parade it.

 

Friday 14th

Helmsdale to John O'Groats

 

The final push today.  Spirits were high as we had only 50 miles to push for the day.  The admin crew had turned out in their finest money collecting rig and were spotted along the route cagouling money out of unsuspecting civilians.  We were to take on the behemoth hills which were advertised to us yesterday but found more slopes with a 10% gradient, which were not as gruelling as advertised.  We also bumped into a strangely dressed man who was cycling in the other direction on a modified Raleigh Chopper and trailer.  He was quick to reinforce the fact that he was fitter then he looked, even though he could be describeed as 'robust'.  Our enthusiasm for the finish was so overwhelming that at the 35 mile point we had to stop to use the toilet in a pub.  We also seized the opportunity to re-hydrate as every good endurance athlete does.   So we set off, with even slightly higher spirits after the toilet break and onwards to John O'Groats.  We passed through Wick, which was a sizeable town on the map, but took all of 5 minutes to cycle through it.  John O'Groats, here we are, with Wayne our leader at the front of the pack proudly leading us through the townm or so we thought.  We had taken a slight deviation from the route and started to travel at a tangent to the route which was soon redressed and we were back on track and heading to the finish.  We were greeted by a gleeful bunch lead by Bdr Bradford who had bottles of champagne lined up on the wall, how all commemorative events should end.  We rounded it all off with a photo by the famous sign and then got into the transport for our journey back to Inverness and then back to camp.  A somewhat underwhelming finish, a low turn out was forgiven for the howling winds and cold tempratures at the port of John O'Groats.