This summer Paul Sanders, the Times Picture Editor, rode from John o' Groats
to Land's End to raise funds for the National Autistic Society. These are
the snapshots of his ten-day journey...
Day 1 - John o' Groats to Bonar Bridge
Wind. Oh my God. At one point I hit 40mph without pedalling, then turn a
corner and struggle to reach 12mph. The rain pours down (well, it pours
sideways) and my legs become the same shade of blue as my bike, while my
hands freeze into a claw that can't feel the brake levers. I stop in a bus
shelter for a moment's solace and some dried fruit, and hop about to
persuade the circulation to return to my hands. Water pours from my jacket,
pockets and shoes.
This is madness. I have to pedal hard downhill to keep at 10mph; I then sweep
around a hairpin at the bottom and the wind's full force catches me and
blows me up the next hill at 20mph, without pedalling! The best cup of
coffee ever and a slice of cake at 75 miles warms the chill from my bones
and the last 20 miles of the day fly by. I emerge from trees to see
Carbisdale Castle Youth Hostel near Bonar Bridge where I am due to spend the
night. My legs ache, my arms ache and I think I have trench foot. All in
all, a good day.
Distance: 95 miles; time: 5hr 39min
Calories used: 5,751; total climb: 4,231ft
Top speed: 42mph; avg pulse: 154; max: 171
Day 2 - Bonar Bridge to Fort William
I want to kill the man in the next bunk. His snores and farts reach a high
point about 3am. Either someone puts him out of his misery or I fall asleep.
I know I'm in trouble as soon as I set off. My feet lose all feeling after
20 miles, my legs become numb at 30 and my arms and shoulders seem to be on
fire. As to my groin, I suspect it has given up all hope of fathering any
more children. But I make it to Fort William for the night.
Distance: 104 miles; time: 7hr 5min;
Calories used: 5,964; total climb: 5,424ft;
Top speed: 36mph; avg pulse 139; max: 168
Day 3 - Fort William to Loch Lomond
An Italian motorcyclist pulls up at the temporary lights midway through Glen
Coe. He pops up his visor and gestures to my bike. “Ah, Pinarello,” he says.
“The best,” I reply. He flashes a brilliant smile and roars away. “Could've
given me a tow, bloody tourist,” I mutter as he becomes a speck on the
horizon. Once over the top it's downhill all the way to Loch Lomond. The
road-kill count becomes interesting: eight squirrels, two badgers (messy),
one fox and seven deer.
Distance: 92 miles; time: 6hr 10min
Calories used: 4,837; total climb: 4,077ft;
Top speed: 33mph; avg pulse: 140; max: 157
Day 4 - Loch Lomond to Langholm
A squeak in my pedal is becoming a roar, precisely 88 times a minute. The only
time it stops is when I'm going downhill. I'm mentally tortured and would
gladly tell all my secrets just to make the sound stop. Today I cycle up
four of the longest, steepest hills I have ever had to tackle. At one point
I'm sure that my eyes pop out of my head and stare back at my red, sweating
and wheezing body. They hover in front of me in a surreal way until I make
it to the top of the last climb. As I hit 30mph on the five miles of
glorious decent into Langholm, they snap back in place and I scream like a
man possessed.
The very nice lady at Wauchope Cottage at Langholm, just north of Lockerbie,
where I'm staying tonight, has to lift me off my bike as I can't lift my
leaden bulk off the frame. She and her husband are planning to cycle Land's
End to John o' Groats next year. I try to dissaude them, but they won't
listen.
A small parcel of energy gels, power bars and electrolyte drink mixtures
arrives by post; I'm hoping that they will get me through the next few days.
After a phone conversation with a friend's nutritionist, I discover that my
diet of cooked breakfast, cake and Lucozade isn't really the right thing for
extreme exercise.
Distance: 110 miles; time: 9hr 10min;
Calories used: 5,843; total climb: 6,350ft
Top speed: 32mph; avg pulse 130; max: 158
Day 5 - Langholm to Blackburn
As I drip over my power bar (science in action), an interesting fellow appears
next to me and presses his thumb on my saddle, saying: “Why do you do this,
yam legs wilna work a' yam bollocks ull be buggered. Ah cud show you how ta
sort awt a sheep, that ud be proper werk”. With that he leaves. The effects
of the power bar are like being injected with rocket fuel. Even against the
wind, progress is a steady 12mph.
Penrith to Shap is a seven-mile, 1,427ft climb over one of the most exposed
godforsaken moors I've seen. With Green Day's Boulevard of Broken Dreams
bleating away on my iPod. I am not going to be beaten. It takes nearly an
hour to get to the top, but the descent makes it worth it: nine miles of
sweeping bends at 30mph into Kendal, where I try (and fail) to buy mint
cake. I pour another dose of rocket fuel down my throat and the last 60
miles to Blackburn fly by.
Distance: 125 miles; time: 9hr 27min
Calories used: 6,717; total climb: 5,132ft
Top speed: 34mph; avg pulse: 130; max: 153
Day 6 - Blackburn to Wem
I wake to silence. It's not raining. Woo hoo! I have injury worries this
morning; my hands have started to fall apart, literally. They were so wet
for so long yesterday that huge bits of skin are falling off.
I ride from Blackburn to Manchester, a drive I've done many times as I lived
here for several years. But I've never noticed the West Pennine Moors, or
that they rise up to more than 800ft. However, once I'm over them it's a
straight run into Manchester for coffee at my friend Rod's house. Alistair,
his son, is the inspiration for the ride. Rod looks me up and down and says:
“Bloody hell man, look at your thighs, you've got muscles on your muscles!”
I stay at Wem, north of Shrewsbury, where my dad surprises me by turning up
just as I'm downing my first G&T (medicinal). We have dinner together.
It's lovely and something I rarely get to do.
Distance: 82 miles; time: 6hr 10min;
Calories used: 4,291; total climb: 3,549ft; T
op speed: 34mph; avg pulse: 123; max: 155;
Day 7 - Wem to Ross-on-Wye
Blue skies, so I slap on the factor 30 and set off on the A49. On the run from
Hereford I see another cyclist about half a mile ahead. I lock on and slowly
reel him in. As we hit the last climb of the day, he's mine for the taking.
My heart pounds as I catch him halfway up a 600ft climb. I make it to the
remote Welsh Bicknor Youth Hostel near Ross-on-Wye for the night. It's
hidden two miles up a hill and through some woods, but they give me a good
welcome and the receptionist marvels at my thighs.
Distance: 86 miles; time: 5hr 50min
Calories used: 4,805; total climb: 3,763ft
Top speed: 34mph; avg pulse: 129; max: 157
Day 8 - Ross-on-Wye to Street
A whizz through the Forest of Dean, then a grind up the side of the Wye valley
and over to Chepstow. The rain starts again as I head for the M48 across the
Severn. I'm joined by Scott, another cyclist, who offers to guide me through
Bristol. We part at Clifton where I join two chaps going to John o' Groats.
I say that I've just come from there so, technically, at least one of us is
going the wrong way. They finally realise that they are heading south and I
turn right for Wells.With the wind roaring in my ears and with flies
pebble-dashing my face and teeth, I shoot through Glastonbury and arrive at
the Street Youth Hostel for the night.
Distance: 75 miles; time: 6hr 17min
Calories used: 4,321; total climb: 5,335ft
Top speed: 37mph; avg pulse: 120; max: 159
Day 9 - Street to Moretonhampstead
From Street I pedal through chocolate-box thatched villages where the only
sound is of people clipping their hedges. The smell of honeysuckle is thick
on the breeze. Cornflower sky. Perfect day. I haven't had breakfast -
foolish boy - and stop in Ilminster for three teacakes, toasted to
perfection, with a sublime pot of tea served by a lovely young woman, who
keeps giggling with her colleague as I eat. Another time, say 20 years ago,
and maybe...
Somerset comes and goes and soon I'm on the Devon rollercoaster where I face
agonising ascents and have to click and grind through my gears, sweat
gushing from every pore until, like being on the big dipper, arms aloft, I
hurtle down the next valley at 20, 30, 40mph towards Moretonhampstead, near
Newton Abbot.
Distance: 84 miles; time: 6hr 28min
Calories used: 4,866; total climb: 6,334ft
Top speed: 41mph; avg pulse: 126; max: 161
Day 10 - Moretonhampstead to Land's End
Shortly after Truro another “end-to-ender” with a fellow cyclist catches me
during a moment of weeping self-pity. Far from the camaraderie of others,
here is a man in yellow trying to steal my day. We play cat and mouse for
about ten miles. As Helston approaches I shoot past him, my legs going like
pistons. He can't respond.
I keep pushing myself through Penzance and the string of villages that make
the last 12 miles. I leave Sennan with just over two miles to go and hit
25mph. This time I don't let it slip and I race up the final hill as if I am
going to claim the mystical yellow jersey. There, in the evening light, is
my holy grail; the post that marks the end of my quest. I stop next to it,
sweat bursting from every pore, pull my camera from my bag and ask the
nearest person to take a picture of me.
It's over. I drink champagne and eat steak while I'm in the bath; the best
reward for tired muscles. This trip has given me confidence, shown me how
much my friends and family really care but, more importantly, allowed me to
beat my demons while raising more than £4,500 for the National Autistic
Society.
Distance: 115 miles; time: 8hr 58min
Calories used: 6,929; total climb: 9,953ft Top speed: 45mph; avg pulse: 130;
max: 163
Paul's ride was part of The National Autistic Society's £Grand Intentions
campaign. For more information, visit think-differently.org.uk
or autism.org.uk
. Donations to Paul's campaign can be made at justgiving.com/paulsjogle
Inspiring indeed. Thank you and contragulations!
Anne Barton, Valencia, Sa