It doesn’t matter how fast you go. Just make sure you go.

When you set yourself challenges, make sure they’re for you, and no-one else.

Mile-wise, I knew I could handle this. Elevation-wise, not so much. I consider myself pretty okay at endurance-type stuff. I can go for miles. Just at a steady pace. The only real objective in all of this was to just complete it. It didn’t matter if I had to get off and push. Or if I had to slog away at the back. Or if it meant missing a rest stop. As long as I made it to the end, I would be happy. I would’ve achieved something.

Day One: Saturday 28th August 2021
Whitehaven — Penrith
55.66 Miles

We set off after the obligatory C2C sign photo and headed on with our sights set on the first rest stop at Loweswater. We bounced our way along a very bumpy cycle path out of Whitehaven, dodging parkrunners as we went along. Passing other groups of cyclists, most likely taking on the same as us. All the slowing down meant we were dropped pretty soon from the rest of the pack, but ultimately that didn’t bother us.

We pootled along at our own pace. Enjoyed the views. Had a chat. Stopped to take some pictures, and knew we’d catch them up again at the rest stop.

It was already turning out to be an interesting dynamic for the group. Some had clearly expensive, lightweight bikes, ‘all the gear’. And others were there with their mates, on a bike that got them from A-B, trainers and some regular sports shorts and a t-shirt. Some had egos. Some just wanted to get to the end. We knew early on where we fit in this pecking order. And it was quite clearly down the bottom.

After our quick pit-stop at Loweswater, we were first out the gates but soon overtaken by the faster riders again. We meandered our way through Whinlatter, part of me wishing I was on a mountain bike up in the trees, rather than slogging away on the tarmac, soon to be at our second rest stop in Keswick.

We again hit a cycle trail clearly well used by walkers and runners that took us out of Keswick along the River Greta toward Scale and Troutbeck skirting the bottom of Blencathra.

Penrith was now in our sights, and we knew we just had to plug away. Soon, we would be pitching up our tent and be tucking into our seemingly endless supply of noodles!

Along the route, we were staying mostly at rugby clubs instead of campsites, so facilities weren’t always readily available. We’ve always been very self-sufficient on these types of multi-day rides, so camping and cooking on a portable stove was no problem for us. For everyone else, it seemed that eating out at a pub every night was the ideal solution. So, tiny stove in hand, we set about making our meal for the night. Ready to fill our tummies, but feeling a little deflated by the absence of other self-sufficient-ers.

There had been talk that the second day was to be the hardest, most testing day of the three. For me, that’s good to know. I like to know the stats of where the climbs are on the ride. The gradient. The length. It makes me feel better knowing that it’s on its way. I can mentally prepare to get settled in the saddle for a bit and make my way up them.

Day Two: Sunday 29th August 2021
Penrith — Stanhope
45.12 Miles

Ready to tackle the toughest day, we were up bright and early and ready to go. A slight twinge in my knee meant I was smelling rather spicy as the muscle rub seeped its way through my shorts. Heading out of Penrith was actually rather nice until we hit Renwick. We were well and truly out into the moorland there. The climbs zig-zagged their way up over the terrain. As we climbed and climbed, the rain had started to drizzle from every angle as the mist came down. Our elevation ramped up from about 600ft to just over 1800ft with the gradient touching 12.6% in parts. As we hit the main road, we were no longer ‘protected’ from the elements and the wind decided to make an appearance. Hitting us at every angle it could. It was a struggle to stay upright, let alone pedal through it. We slogged away up the final climb, just about making out the rest stop van on the top of the hill.

We reached Hartside Summit, freezing cold and soaking wet. There was a little burger van type hut at the top, so we decided now was the time to spend a little on luxury and get ourselves a hot chocolate. It was consumed within about 2/100th of a second and was the best £2.20 I’ve ever spent.

Heading on to our next rest stop at Allenheads, we’d decided that we had deserved to treat ourselves a little once we got there and stopped for some food. A simple sausage bap was enough to fill my belly and get me going again.

Stanhope was so nearly in our sights now. Our final camp spot of the trip. So close. Just over that hill.

Last to arrive at Stanhope Showground around 4.20pm, we were told that the fish and chip shop closed at 5 and showers closed at 5.30. We looked at each other and it really didn’t take much deliberation. We chose food. After pitching the tent in record time, we made our way to the chip shop, only to find that, even at 4.45, they weren’t serving anymore. So, with slight grump and a touch of hangry edging in, it was off to the corner shop to find anything we could find for tea that night… Without washing up facilities at the showground, we opted for the easiest option of a pasty. It was nice. Just not fish and chips. Hangry had definitely kicked in.

We decided to stay in camp again that night whilst everyone hit the pub and it must’ve been a late-night because as we woke the next day feeling actually rather refreshed, everyone else seemed a little blurry-eyed.

Day three: Stanhope — Tynemouth
42.14 miles

Feeling a little smug, we gobbled some breakfast, packed our things, and headed out. I’d inspected the map yesterday and briefed Lindsay on where the hills were going to be. And the only ‘real hill’ of the ride, was a mile in. Our rest might play to our advantage on this day.

Peaking out of 15.2% we made our way up Crawleyside climb before taking a turn onto Waskerley way. The most perfect gravel track you’ve ever seen. I was in my element. I had the perfect bike, the perfect tyres, and without sounding big-headed, the perfect attitude. This was the terrain to have fun on. To enjoy. To not worry about having to go fast.

Our first rest stop was to be at Derwenthaugh Country Park. Everyone and I mean everyone stopped for breakfast. We simply stopped for a toilet stop, a quick nibble of a bar, a swig of water, and on we went. Even stopping for a short amount of time, meant that the rain had made us cold and we needed to get back on the bike and moving again.

Heading across the Tyne, we’d made it to Newcastle! Our final point before the finish. This was it. We’d pedalled across the country. And we’d now left the rest of the pack behind.

Our re-group poinst was in North Shields and we’d arrived a full 20 minutes ahead of the rest of the group! It was official. We’d won. Turns out the tortoise does win in the end. We preserved our energy. Played to our strengths. And ultimately didn’t get caught up in the chaos of being first to camp every day. We utilised what we had. Supported each other. And had a decent ride.

Did I come away feeling as though I’d achieved something big. No, I’m not sure that I did. I didn’t feel as though I’d taken on a big challenge, or defied the odds. I felt like I’d done a 3 day bike ride. And yes, some climbs were hard, but were they impossible? No. I did it. In my own time. Trebled the size of my calves in the process. And technically, we were first to the finish.

It doesn’t matter how fast you go. Just go. Keep turning those pedals and you’ll get there. It doesn’t matter when. You just will.

*Note to Sustrans. Move the C2C end monument so it’s not half way up a bloomin’ hill!

For the stat busters:
142.86 Miles | 17 Hours 10 Minutes | 11,163ft.