Cyclists Explore the Peak District

It’s 5pm on a Friday as I join 16other somewhat intrepid cyclists by the Queen’s Tower, prepared for a weekend of cycling on some of the Peak District’s finest roads. The plan was pretty simple; load up the buses, drive in a vaguely northerly direction, find the Youth Hostel in Edale, spend the following two days bashing out some miles in some nice hilly terrain. Return to London unscathed. Simple.

Well, not really. Within minutes of leaving Imperial we lost the other bus only to be confronted by the inevitable London Friday night traffic. Eventually it eased as we hit the M1 and we soon stopped for a quick ‘dinner’ (read: sandwich) from Sainsbury’s. Our journey continued towards the hills but after a few more hours of minibus discomfort we arrived at the Youth Hostel as rain started to fall over the Peaks.

Luckily the following morning saw blue skies and promise of sun at some point. After waffling down a vaguely passable cooked breakfast we headed for the hills. The route for the day fell just short of 60 miles – not the longest by any stretch – but with enough climbing to just about keep the sadistic amongst us happy including Mam Tor and Winnats Pass to name but a few.

The climb up Mam Tor was almost straight out of the blocks, a nice (depending on your opinion of hills) way to warm up on a chilly morning. Midway up the climb Tom Gibb had what some might call ‘a bit of a mechanical’. Somehow the rear derailleur hanger on his bike (the bit that holds the rear gear shifting mechanism onto the frame) snapped. Bugger. With no more than 3 miles cycled it was game over for Tom. Back to the Youth Hostel he went.

After reaching the top and letting evetion) a view of the road off to the right stretched out for at least half a kilometre – what I’m saying is that if someone (a group of cyclists, for example) went right, you’d be able to see them pretty easily. We carried on along the route (turning left at the junction) and battered along the smooth, undulating roads. A good fifteen minutes later we turned off the main road and waited a few seconds for a couple of stragglers to join us. It became apparent that we were missing two from the group. Oops. A few phone calls later we discovered the whereabouts of Mihai and Johannes – they’d turned right at the T-junction. We pushed on having arranged to meet up later on the route. Surprisingly after not too long, we were reunited at a top of a hill as agreed.

Off we set again. We must’ve managed a meagre 5 or so more miles before Dan got a puncture which was fixed in not too long at all. Thankfully that was the final hiccup of the morning and we actually managed to get in a fair few decent miles before stopping off for some well deserved lunch at a café. £3.60 for a giant bacon and sausage bap. Bargain. Hot drinks were served in pints – the north really knows how to do things properly.

A picturesque climb out of Grindleford was a challenging way to warm up again having been sat outside the café for far too long in justlycra. However, the long, fast descent was a brilliant reward for the climb up. After miles of fast undulating A-roads the main feature of the day was looming ahead of us; Winnat’s Pass, a 12%, 1.6km long climb with a maximum gradient of 20%. One of the hardest climbs in the UK.

As we approached, the climb didn’t look as bad as expected. A third of the way up I realised I had been lulled into a false sense of security, the climb opened up around a corner that was hidden from sight from the bottom and the gradient suddenly ramped up. With calves and quads burning and the feeling that a vein was about to pop out of my forehead I remembered the rules of the Velominati (a list of rules, truths and simple cycling etiquette). In particular, Rule 5 which states simply “Harden the fuck up”. With this in mind I pushed through the pain and pressed on to the top.

After regrouping and a little rest we carried on climbing, just a gentle climb back up to the top of Mam Tor (the first climb of the day) the descent back down the side we climbed at the start of the day was sublime. Smooth, dry tarmac meandering it’s way down the side of the hill with speeds in excess of 45 mph were reached. Hugely rewarding after such a brutal climb. A few minutes later we were back at the hostel. Time for the pub.

As per usual with Cycling Club trips, the pub is always a 40 minute walk from wherever we stay. It is, however, always worth the walk and much food and beer was had by all. The following morning again saw blue skies with a distinct chill in the air. After loading up the minibuses we headed into Buxton to startthe route for the day. A few miles in we pulled off a busy A-road onto some nice quiet country roads. Minutes later we were gifted a dead straight, steep descent down to a reservoir – scarily fast for roads so damp; above 50 mph this time. Beyond the reservoir we climbed for a few kilometers and soon reached the peak. It seemed like the luck was on our side for the day – 10km in and no problems at all. Maybe we’d be set for a perfect day’s cycling?

Nope. Not quite. The first corner of the descent saw 6 riders take a bad tumble with some flying comically onto the verge. A combination of damp roads, adverse camber and foolhardy attitudes could be blamed for this incident. Luckily no one was seriously injured, although Pete endured some nasty road rash. The most serious injury, however, went to Max’s bike – a mashed rear wheel saw the end of his weekend. As we were so far from anywhere we were forced to jump ship; a few went back to fetch the minibuses whilst the rest of us waited in the cold, unable to push on.

All was not bad though – an extended pub lunch made up for the lack of cycling that day and eventually we headed back to London. The weekend didn’t see as much cycling done as was planned and perhaps not as quickly either, but good times were had by all. A top weekend.

Obviously a huge thanks to our main sponsor, Eaton, who’s help in subsiding trips and kit is making the club bigger and better than ever!