Snow Angels on Bontragers

Well the Mavic tyres that have served me so well over the last year finally gave up the ghost after a couple of stints on the Turbo trainer. So before heading up to Gods country (The Lake district) to ride Hard Knott Pass I thought I ought to get a new set. The local bike shop didnt have any Mavics so Bontrager R3s were the new acquisition. Everything packed up and ready to roll we set off to sit on the M6 in a traffic jam for 5 hours before we eventually turned off and headed into the hills.

 

Which was where this photo opportunity came up - my bike is actually on the top of my car here!

The landscape was breathtaking, traveling over mountain passes that only 48 hours earlier were 12 ft deep in snow we stopped periodically to soak up the view. We eventually arrived in Ravenglass a sleepy little fishing village which boasts the fantastic Pennington Hotel - A hostel of some repute among the few who know about it. This little village is one of my favourite place on the planet, the locals are friendly, the food fantastic and while you are there, the rest of the world seems to be "on pause".

  

To cut a long story short we got there, pigged out, I mean carbed up, shipped a bottle of wine and had an early night in preparation for the big climb over Hard Knott Pass.

A gloriously bright morning that had a bit of a nip in the air set the tone, while I changed tyres in the car park. Ready to roll, I bid my wife farewell and told her I'd meet her in Eskdale once I return from my epic climb. (Jayne was going up the valley on the Lall Ratty, The Ravenglass Eskdale steam railway)

Without sounding over emotional, I have never felt so overjoyed about cycling. The scenery was something to behold; the mountains had their "caps on" (as my grandad used to say when the snow was still visible on the peaks) and spring had truly sprung. I cycled up the valley with the biggest grin on my face, it was truly inspirational. I had to stop a couple of times just to embrace the moment. The only downer was (and I dont know if I was imagining this) the Bontrager tyres seemed a little 'slower' than my old Mavics. Do they really make any difference? It seemed so to me.

Shortly before this photo came a "Road closed" sign. As you can see the road looked fine so I ignored it. Some miles onward, at the foot of Hard Knott Pass I came across another "Road closed" sign shown below, which I feel I should have taken a bit more notice of. Take a look at the gradient % on the road sign!

Taking note of the warning, but ignoring it non the less, I continued up the rapidly steepening road to be greeted by some pretty impressive snow drifts - I couldn't resist taking a snap to give some indication of the severity of the weather in this region within the last few days.

About half a mile up the pass I saw two touring cyclists wearing hiking boots walking down the slope. This coincided with me having to traverse a small patch of snow. Queue my first mishap. Back wheel spins, I no longer have forward momentum, I am now on my arse. 

"You've no chance of getting over the pass on your bike mate" commented one of the tourists. "We've walked down 90% of it, its just to dangerous - further up, there's absolutely no tarmac to see, just virgin snow" We chatted for a while and I pondered the worth of this attempted climb. After my pondering I attempted to get back on my bike to continue onwards and upwards - not easy when you're on a 25-30% slope. 

Hopping along trying to get my cleats in, I almost came a cropper again. In the end I pushed it forward until there was a lull in the viciousness of the gradient. And I'm back in the game! Not for long unfortunately, another encounter with a small patch of snow which stretched across the width of the tarmac and another date with the dirt!

Another 10 minutes of my now well practiced "One legged cyclist" impression and I managed to get the bloody bike moving. With a bit of momentum and strategic guidance around snow patches I started to make a bit of headway until I saw before me the end of tarmac and the beginning of a never ending snow field. This was no time for subtlety - I stood on the peddles and gave it everything I had in the vain hope that I could plow through the white stuff and perhaps find a bit of tarmac at the next bend. I last about 6ft into the snow before falling side ways and rolling on to my back laughing at the absurdity of my efforts. As I lay their looking into the blue sky above, cackling like a lunatic, I instinctively started waving my arms and legs around to create a "Snow Angel" - in hind sight, I am so pleased that all of this took place in the middle of no where with no witnesses, well no living witnesses, not now anyway....

The view back down the pass when I finally gave up

The view back UP the pass when I capitulated

Wet through, with a broken helmet, and bruised pride, I made my way back down the pass - walking! When it was safe to cycle I immediately suffered a puncture - 1 year without one with my Mavics, and first ride out, the Bontrager springs a leak - is this inherent?  Quick fix on the side of the road, roll down into the Eskdale valley and before you know it I'm supping chocolate in the Boot Inn with my better half.

I raced the Ratty back to Ravenglass and beat it quite handsomely, but those Bontragers still seem a bit sluggish - in summary a bit like myself, slow and prone to letting out air!

Cold, wet and failed

Fantastic days cycling, in fact I would go so far to say that it was the most enjoyable and invigorating time I've ever had on a bike. Really looking forward to doing it again later in the year as a CCCP event, anyone wanna come along?