Hotter than Hell 2011 Part 2

Texas in August is hot every year but in 2011 it was one of the hottest on record, with days of contiuous 100 degrees plus reaching double figures. For this reason Joanne and I decided to arrive in the 'Lone star state' ten days before the Hotter than Hell. We were later followed by our fellow Anglo Mules Simon and Karen. Apart from wanting to empty my brother wine cellar we wanted to ensure our lungs were not too scorched with some gradual aclimatisation.

Tragically on our first ride together, with a full compliment of Anglo Mules - Karen had a horrific accident. She had to be flown by helicopter to Herman Memorial Hospital with serious head injuries. (Thankfully she is now well on her way to recovery and on behalf of the Mules we all wish her a speedy recovery)

As a cyclist you are constantly aware of the risk of being on a bike.

Cycing can be a dangerous in all its forms and accidents can and do occur anywhere and at anytime. Every year hundreds of cyclists take part in the Tour de France knowing that some of them will not finish due to some serious injury. I am sure Antonio Fletcha did not expect to have his tour ended by the reckless driving of an impatient French Television Crew.

I am ceratin that some TV producers are more interested in recording the carnaage than the cadence at times.

I think that when you are involved in a serious accienent or have witnessed one as was the case with Karen then you fully appreciate the potential for risk in all its forms.

In Karens case it was a pace line 'wheel touch', but as we all know acccidents can be caused by a variety of things. Mechanical faults, Road surface, other road users and your reactions to all of them.

In true British Spirit Simon and Karen wanted 'The show to go on' so we hitched up the Mule Trailer and headed out of town.

When I was 7 years old I lived in Fort Worth for three years as my father was there with work. last year we revisited on our way to the ride having luch in the old stock yard area.

We loved it so much that it was inevitable that we would revisit. With saddles for bar stools, great beer and fine food it was the perfect lunch stop.

After lunch we headed north and as we did so the teperature rose from an already scorcing 103 degrees.

............... 105 degrees the surrounding land was brown where the lush grass had been burnt many months previous

............107 degrees the ocaisional wooded or forrest area were populated with chared black trees, burnt to the truck by fires and giving the appeareance of hundreds of Totem Poles

............109 a constant mirage appeared in every distant hollow where I was half expecting to see Bing Crosby and Bob Hope

112 degrees ...................that enough I shouted to Kenny asking him to stop at a gas station for a drink. I was not thirsty but wished to drink out of respect for natures heat.

As we got closer to Witchita Falls the lanes became full of assorted vehicles carrying bikes. It was a truly fine sight although I have to admit there was no other convoy which could compare to the Mule wagon Train.

Once at Witchita the Mules required water and hay before rest. That translated to water and Pasta for most but for Kenny and I it was Shiner and more shiner with some strange food chucked into the mix. I was hydrating myself after all.

We elected to start at 6.15 to avoid the heat of the day........well as much as we could. The Mules set off at a blistering pace of 20 mph which in traffic was quite remarkable.

We all wore pink ribbons on our helmets to acknowledge that our thoughts and prayers were with Katren and Simon.

With the combination of speed and congestion and the associated fear of crashing Joanne was our first casulty SAGGING after 35 miles leaving me the only Anglo Mule left.

As the sun came up the suffering started and having our progress hampered by a succession of punctures the temperatures were soon over 100 degrees. Although cycling jerseys have three pockets at the rear I have only ever used one however I soon realised that if you filled the others ful of ice and did the same with your helmet at each stop then you could manage to keep your core temperature from rising too quickly.

By mid day the heat was attacking from two directions. The sun 109 degrees and bouncing off the road at over 120 degrees.........Some of the Mules were wilting.

At Hells gate we stoopped at the garage to 'Re Ice' only to discover one of my blog readers anticipating our arrival to provide moral support for the second year in a row, this time he had brought his grandson..............I was quite chocked

Eventually we made it in a very respectable time averaging 18.1 mph........Some hours later the sag wagons were still bringing riders in. Those who did not quite make it.

This year was ceratinly hotter than Hell and the hottest ride on record.

Hotter than Hell 2011 Part 1

This years Hotter than Hell was Hot!
Although the air temperature only got up to 109 degrees.........Only!!!!!!!
The temperature of the road increased as the day moved on and by the time we got to the 80 mile mark it was 125 degrees.
Hot enough to raise a souffle and to cook a Sunday lunch.
With such heat there were inevitably casualties and the telephone number for the SAG wagons was frequently dialled.
It would be true to say that even a fully manned call centre would have been hard pushed to accommodate all the calls for service.

Through the mirage there was a large group of cyclists who remained mostly unaffected.
Smiling, sweaty and scorching a blue and red line they conquered the very best that Wichita Falls could through at them...........Well done Mules

A full report will follow..............in the next few days with lots of pictures.

Gauntlet thrown down to Le Patron and his US Mules

Earlier in the year I completed a sportive in the West Yorkshire Dales (Harewood) It was early season and I really struggled up the massive climbs. At times it was not unattractive picture with my face resembling that of a Wells Fargo Stage coach horse that has managed to out run the James Gang. My excuse was early season form.
Four months and four thousand miles I was unable to use that excuse and yet again found myself finishing a ride with a foaming mouth, an acute case of turrets, and a disposition which I could only describe as LOM- low of Mood.

The Reason 'The Big G' more formally known as – Grimpeurs des Wolds Cyclosportive.

The 160Km route started and finished where I live in the historic market town of Beverley and covered the best roads in the Yorkshire Wolds featuring many of the toughest climbs used in the East Yorkshire Classic and the 2006 &2007 The National Road Race Championships.

Featured climbs included Life Hill (Sledmere), Fimber, Wharram Percy Wold, Birdsall Brow, Thixendale Wold, Hanging Grimston, Acklam Brow, Great Givendale and Nunburnholme.

Each name now strikes fear in the same way that Frodo might have experienced when he first moved his little legs on his journey up Mount Doom.

Don’t be fooled into thinking that with only 3600 meters of climbing that it could not have been that bad. The climbs came thick and fast especially in the middle third where remaining in the saddle provided great risk of 'front wheel elevation' and getting out of the saddle required the balance of a tight rope walker.
My problem was not my lack of fitness, but my non lack of fatness.

When will I learn that the only way that the treasured climber can come out of me is if I stop squashing him with a A pasta induced poor power weight ratio.

On the flat and basic climbs I am happy with my performance, down hill I cant stop, and even on very steep but shot climbs I can survive. But if it is over 15% for more than half a mile I am like a truck moving into the crawler lane.
Anyway In post ride beer fuelled euphoria I realised that the only real way I can combat this is by setting myself a challenge that would totally fail unless I let my 'climber' out.

To face my fears head on and let the fear of failure be my champion.

So next July the Anglo Mules will ride 'The way of the Roses' Coast to Coast none stop.

What took us three days last June will now have to be squeezed into just 24 hrs.

As a warm up for this we will do the 156 mile longest distance on the Flat out on the Fens Ride a week before.

We also challenge the US Mules to take part in both too although we realise that Mouth foaming, turrets and involuntary wheel elevations are new skills they may need to acquire!!!!!

My next serious riding will be in The USA with Joanne where we will be joined by fellow Anglo Mules Karen and Simon to take part in the 30th Hotter than Hell. I understand that all the sins are that it may well be that hot this year that Satan himself has been appointed as the Race Director...........................we cant wait

Hotter than Hell 2010 - Part 2

If H G Wells was in Wichita Falls at 7am on Saturday morning he may have been smiling.

He once stated 'Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the human race'

As a science fiction writer he often looked to the future seemingly with a degree of disillusionment as was illustrated in his most famous novel 'The War of the worlds'.

In his novel the earth is over run by Martians with superior intelligence and technology who try to destroy man.

Just before they succeed they are struck down by a simple cold virus reminding us about both the fragility and simplicity of life.

Even back in 1898 Wells was concerned with the pace of Human evolution. He believed that there an ever increasing trend to rely on intelligence and technology to the detriment of our physical being and natural senses.

With obesity levels soaring globally, often running parallel with a sedentary lifestyle; Mr Wells may have used one of his own time machines to take a peek into the 21st Century.

His concerns were well founded

He seemingly saw the bicycle as a technological advancement that could embrace both the spiritual and physical aspects of human life.

I am not sure how many of the 13,000 + people assembled for the Hotter than Hell have read any H.G. Wells, but I am sure that most would please him if he were alive now.

With the cannon sounding and the sun up wheels steadily rolled over the start line in a multi- coloured sea of Lycra. The morning temperature was a pleasant 70f and aided by a favourable tail wind The Mules soon found a comfortable rhythm maintaining a speed of 20mph.

Jason 'The Kiwi Sherpa' led the pace line with such efficiency that there were no shortage of riders looking to add themselves to our ever growing tail.

Because of the requirement to keep hydrated, everybody was drinking at regular intervals, which is easy to do for the experienced rider. For some, this was seemingly not the case, as our main hazard to riding was the water bottle slalom course that had been laid out in front of us.

I must have counted at least 100!!! They were posh bottles too, the ones that keep the contents cool for a greater duration.

Of course once dropped you might as well say goodbye to such a vessel unless you want to wait around the roadside for hours.

One guy close to me dropped his keys right in the middle of the road, imagine it!

You might have spent months training, new bike, new clothes and a fortune spent in the exhibition centre and you drop your keys. By the time you are able to retrieve them, that's considering you actually find them; Hells Gate would surely be closed and the inflatable monster as deflated as you might feel.

As the sun got higher so did the temperature and of course the amount of stray bottles.
We all had three bottles each with an intention to get to Hells gate as soon as possible.
This is a strategic point on the ride at 53 miles where the Century riders have to reach in a given time.

This is usually by 12.30 pm which gives you plenty of time, but that time can be brought forward during the ride if the weather gets too hot. This is purely done in the interests of rider safety.
For sustenance we had our pockets stuffed with Mule Fuel 'MuleBars' . We gave these out to other riders joining our pace line who were greedy for more!!!!!
Unfortunately they were not in a position to write down the website whilst cycling at 20 mph so here is a quick reminder.

www.mulebar.com

For the record we are not sponsored by Mulebar we just think their products are great!!!!! try them out.

We got to Hells Gate in good time where we stopped to fill up our bottles. As we were doing so we were approached by a spectator who had read the blog posts and was looking out for us. It was a great feeling.

The second part of the ride became more testing. The sun was now directly overhead and the temperature was soaring. The wind was now in our faces and increasing by the hour gusting up to 20mph. The feeling of a pleasant ride dwindled into a challenge as the heat sucked at your energy reserves. I was now taking a drink every ten minutes to replace the rivers of sweat running off me. We decided to reduce the pace slightly something that appeared to be mirrored on the course as our momentum remained the same.

With just under 6 hours riding time on the clock we crossed the line all together and all smiling.

Paddy 'Le Patron' provided champagne to start off the re-hydration which was followed by some Boddingtons Beer (and a bit of water to be sensible)

All in all it was a great ride.

Shortly I will be leaving the USA, back to England where I take part in The Manchester 100 mile ride next Sunday with some more Anglo Mules.

Paddy and the US contingent will be doing Tour de Cure and Tour de Pink.

If you see us on the road.......say Hi.

Happy Riding

Hotter than Hell 2010 - Part 1 The Journey to Hell

After months of training Friday morning finally arrived.
It was not the usual Friday morning, the one that comes with a 4.30 am alarm call in Beverley, East Yorkshire.
The one that would be followed by dressing in the hours of darkness before cycling to work, comforted by a warm sensible coat.
Hardly the sort of Friday that would inspire the other two wheeled urban warriors that I look up to.
But this Friday was different.
This was 'The Friday Morning', just as the following day would be.............
'The Saturday'.

Rather than having the androgynous voice from my alarm repeatedly reminding me of the time I was woken by 'Le Patron' (My Brother Paddy) at a more civilized time of 6am reminding me that my domestique duties applied to more than cycling !!! As if I had forgotten.

By 8am the Mule Trailer was loaded and other Mules had arrived for the Journey north to Wichita Falls. So fleet of Hoof our wagon wheels did turn, taking us up Highway 45 Towards Dallas and Fort Worth.

We met up with Paddy's father in Law 'Joe' at The H3 Ranch which is located in the famous Stockyards area of Forth Worth.

For me personally it was a special experience.

Forty four years ago my father came to the USA with the British Air force and we were located in Fort Worth, Texas. I was only 6 at the time but went to school there for three years.

Its too long ago to remember everything but I do recall being very happy and having the opportunity to travel around America.

I also remember that my school class used to sing the British National Anthem every morning after there own, I really appreciated that and think the other kids enjoyed the novelty of it too.

Its often funny how things like that stick in your mind.

As I sat in the H3 Ranch drinking my Buffalo Butt Beer I wondered if my late father had visited the same hostelry, he may have even sat in the same seat.

I smiled knowing that he would have approved at my choice of beverage.

He also loved to cycle and like me took it up seriously later in life.

Joe a willey old Texan is not unaccustomed to such bar

He was the sort of man you listened to.

He spoke of bygone days when this particular part of Fort Worth was heaving with stock men bring their cattle to market.

With business done, dollars were exchanged for bouts of hard drinking and gambling followed by by the more expensive attractions that came accompanied by soft words and scented beds.

Although the piano had been replaced by a modern sound system, you could almost hear the faint tunes still reverberating within the floorboards.



With our victuals duly completed we left Forth Worth and headed north.

As we pulled our Mule Trailer out of the stockyards and onto the open road there was a real sense of poignancy.

Soon the air got drier and the temperature rose.

Lush greens were replaced by yellows and browns.

There cactus, nodding donkeys and buzzards all things I wanted to see.

This was Saturdays cycling terrain, hot dry prairie land.

Hotter than Hell

As we got closer to Wichita falls we also saw other Bikes, first only one or two, then dozens, then hundreds, until it reached a point that practically every vehicle on the road seemed to be part of some cycle carrying convoy.

Wichita Falls opened its arms to all of us and we were soon ensconced in our Hotel 'The Holiday Inn Express' on Kell Boulevard.

Like over excited children on Christmas Eve we were ushered to bed by wise words and the prospect of having to rise at 4am.

No sooner had I shut my eyes then it was time. 'The Saturday' had arrived and we all made our way to the start.

This year saw over 13,000 entrants and with so many cyclists for some it would take over an hour and a half to get over the start line.

We were positioned within the 'Scorchers' which meant we were meant to be able to complete the ride between 4-6 hours. It also meant that we could cross the start line within a few minutes after the official start time of 7am.

It was ironic that within the 13,000 people we ended up being stood next to a lovely couple from Kansas who were next to us in our hotel. I already knew from watching 'The Wizard of Oz' that people in Kansas are keen at cycling.

It was also apparent that some non scorchers had infiltrated our starting area and they were highly unlikely to cycle at the required pace.

Just before 7am I took off by helmet to the US National Anthem and did so with pride.

6 fighters jets flew over and a canon was let off to start our ride.

We were off........

Part 2 will be posted tomorrow