Tour o' the Borders 2015

It will come as no surprise to you that I was slightly nervous of a 74 mile sportive, the Tour O' the Borders, on my road bike. Had it been last year I wouldn't have worried at all; this year though was a different proposition. For a start, I haven't been riding the road bike that much and I certainly haven't been doing the longer rides. And then there was the event itself. A closed-road sportive from Peebles on roads I'd never seen amassing something like 4500 feet of climbing over the distance. Maybe not the wisest of things to have signed up for but I'd got my place way back before my operation when I didn't expect to be out for so long.
With it being a closed-road event I had to sign up the day before, so it was a quick trip to Peebles to do that and then back to Edinburgh where I would stay the night. Sign on was very professional feeling. A big list of the entrants names and a box to sign my name. On receipt of the signature I was given my number plate with the timing chip on the back and a yellow band for identification, just in case I lost my bike on the road, I guess.

The start

With a 7:13 start in wave 11 it was an early start so I left Edinburgh around 5:20 the next morning. The roads were quiet, but the odd car with bikes attached seemed to be going in the same direction and by the time I was driving down the road into Peebles it was less of a sleepy Sunday morning and more of a motorised peleton. All slightly bizarre. I had decided to use the official car park even though it would cost me £4 for the day. There were those that had decided otherwise and they were parking on the roads and getting ready outside peoples houses; I wonder what they thought. As a resident of a town often taken over by large events I felt it was kinder to take my car a put it off road, but that's my choice.
I parked in the field and got myself sorted out; computers, saddle bag, tyre pressures, check the number, check the band, helmet, glasses, check the number, check the band, oh don't forget the water bottles and maybe I should just take the rain jacket, it looks a little grey. And then the first choice of the day, push the bike over the grass or ride it? I pushed it, deciding discretion was the order of the day. Then the little cycle along the road and into the town. Cyclists everywhere and only half past six on a Sunday morning.
It was here I was passed by two recumbents, David Gardiner of Laid Back Bikes and Dave Mcraw, proving the futility of the upright bike in the efficiency stakes. Sadly I didn't get the chance to introduce myself to Dave, I've read a lot of his opinion and would have like to say hello, but I did chat to David about stuff until it was my time to get into my wave.
With around 2200 riders organisation has to be slick and the 15 waves had bays to queue up in on the Green in the town. Just before the wave's start time an official with a pole and the wave's number on it took the participants up to the main street. As you do, or at least as I do, I got chatting to a fellow wave 11'er and quickly enough it was our turn to go to the start. We were held there for a minute or two while the enthusiastic starter tried to gee us up. To be honest I just wanted to be on my way. And then we were. Off over the timing mat and away.

Cademuir and Dreeva

 

The group thinned out quickly enough and although there were always cyclists about (more than I would usually see in an entire ride) it wasn't as crowded as I thought it might be. Maybe big chaingangs are the preserve of the faster groups. My conversation companion and I teamed up and rode together chatting and spinning.
The first climb at Dreeva came along after about 11 miles and it was here that the field bunched up a bit. A narrow road and the inevitable slowing down contributed to that I think. And, as usual I wasn't the fastest, but I certainly wasn't the slowest. I was, however, slower than my companion and I lost him for a while. The descent down to the A701 was lovely and here I found myself firmly in the faster category. From our conversation I expected to catch my buddy up and I did.

Talla

The next section down the A701 towards the Talla reservoir was the grim bit of the day. The greyness had descended and it even got a little wet but it was never too bad and we rode past the first feed stop (a little early in my opinion) as we didn't really need anything.
At some point during this section David Gardiner flew past us on his M5 CHR. His speed and obvious comfort has certainly got me thinking about recumbent bikes again!
The Talla reservoir was definitely the wettest part of the ride. It should have been lovely even with the impending climb at the end but the roads we very wet and the drizzle had turned into something more akin to rain. On this section you would have been almost forgiven for thinking we were out for a Sunday ride, just the two of us as it was very quiet. And then we got to the climb.
From the bottom it looked amazing. A steep climb up the hillside and an unbroken line of cyclists attempting to get up it. For the uninitiated there is a 20% sign right at the bottom of the climb which starts with a tight left hand bend to get on to the slopes proper. It's not encouraging. A sign from the organisers suggested the the slower among us should stay to the left. "That's me" I thought and got to the left. I had done my usual and had put my bike into it's lowest gear right at the bottom and was trying my best to get up this "wall". Again I found myself not the slowest, and definitely not the quickest. Sadly my attempt was cut short by the chap in front of me. I realised that he was slowing and went to overtake him (imagine one snail trying to go round another). Unfortunately he chose that moment to quit and in his panic to get unclipped he veered to the right. At the speed we were going I didn't have any chance and rather than put me and my bike off the road I also came to a halt. If we'd been on our own I might have been able to restart but there wasn't the room on the hill with the other riders still trying to get up. No being at my limit I did jog a little up the hill which must have looked odd but it helped my average a bit on the all important Strava segment. I'm not saying I would have got up but I would like to have tried. Once the very steep part was over I got restarted and headed off up the rest of the climb. Where, I think, this picture was taken.

This forward momentum was short lived. As I was crossing the bridge before the shallower part of the climb a marshal informed all of us we would be required to stop while an accident on the descent was dealt with. So, there we were, a compact line of cyclists standing about on the upper slopes of the Talla climb. This was where I was very glad of my waterproof jacket. It was still grey, windy and it got cold. Although I had almost reached my companion for the day so far we got a little separated as the line shuffled about but there was still plenty of chat to be had. And whilst we were cold and probably a little dispirited I think it says something for cyclists that I heard no grumbles aimed at the organisers, just concern for those in the accident. We knew it was bad when the helicopter flew overhead. And so we waited for about an hour.
Eventually they let us go. We walked to the very top and over the cattle grid before being very orderly on what was a pretty technical, and greasy descent. I think I would have loved it had the riders been spread out a little more but as it was we all took it easy. The position of the accident was clear. A narrow bridge, thankfully with hay bales on the ends, had obviously caused its problems. There was a bit too much rubbernecking from my fellow participants here for my liking and I was glad when we reached the easier downhill section.

St Marys Loch

I think it took us all a while to breathe some life back into our cold legs but the run down along St Mary's Loch towards the Gordon Arms was just the ticket. Especially with the breeze behind. My chatty friend and I had met up again and breezed along the road, looking forward to a break at the pub and the opportunity to fill up the water bottles and try one of the macaroni pies! The main problem with the crash, for us still upright, was the inevitable bunching of riders. It meant the feed stop was awash with cyclists. We managed to get through and get supplies. The macaroni pies are indeed legendary. Warm and cut into bite-sized quarters they were just what I needed. Probably not what a doctor would have ordered but hey.

Berrybush

As we left we got separated by an ambulance coming through the feed stop when I needed to stop to let it go. Although this was annoying it also gave me a bit of an impetus. As I settled into the long steady climb of Berrybush I decided to give it a little bit of effort to see if I could catch my pal. It took me a while before I even saw him in the distance. I was overtaken by a number of riders (including a group of three women who cut in way too close - more of them later) but I was also doing a fair amount of passing too. I got to the top without reaching my unknowing target and then the fun began.
This descent was lovely. Not too steep, nice flowing bends and just my cup of tea. I went past the ladies, hopefully at a very safe distance, and then I swept past the yellow jacket of my earlier companion. "Meet you at the bottom" I said. In the end he passed me as I took a comfort break. And another chase began. Now on the rolling flats this one was harder but I decided to give it a go. Disappointingly, I was just about to catch him when he decide it was time for his own comfort break. I wasn't going to stop and I knew that the climb of Witchyknowe was coming up so he would surely catch me then.
Between the pass and the climb there was some sticky road to traverse. I was ready to climb and found this section quite long and difficult to find a rhythm on. People passed, I passed people and then, eventually, I came to the turn off.

Witchyknowe

The climb didn't start for a little wile along the road but as it started to rise I came to a cattle grid and the timing mat for the KOM section. After that riders stretched up the winding road. It wasn't the hardest climb I've ever done nor the easiest. I'm not going to lie, I rode it in my granny gear, just spinning along.  I passed one rider sitting comfortably on the grass. Suggesting to him that his rest was a fine idea the reply "It's cramp, that's what is" came back to me. I should learn to keep my mouth shut.

Witchyknowe - I didn't feel as bad as I look!

The top arrived soon enough along with the timing mat, a cattle grid and the inevitable descent. Whilst I was firmly in the overtaking lane I can't say I enjoyed this one. It might have been fine on a quiet Sunday morning but on this day it was too crowded and I was made nervous by the obviously nervous riders around me. I spotted, and tried to disregard, a rider sitting by the road holding his arm in that broken collar bone way. He had a friend with him so I left them to it. Hopefully he was ok.
The next section was my low point of the day. A real up and down road back to the Gordon Arms and I was riding on my own. Because my chum from earlier had not caught me on the climb which really surprised me. I definitely felt slow as I headed along into the head wind and I felt envious of the little groups who went by me. I finally rolled into the Gordon Arms, needing a watter bottle top up and looking forward to a macaroni pie slice!

Paddy Slacks

As I parked my bike I was finally caught by my friend who decided not to stop as he was under time pressure to get back after the delay at Talla. I waved him off, wished him luck and went in search of water and legendary carb snacks. Relatively quickly I was back in the saddle and starting the final climb of Paddy Slacks. The trio of ladies overtook me again (we'd done a few switches) since the first overtake and I said I'd see them on the way down. This climb was the easiest of them all, never really steep just relentlessly uphill.
And then my favourite descent of the lot. All the way down, to the sweeping left hander onto the flat, I overtook riders that had gone past me on the way up. The route was well signed but I did object slightly to the sharp bend sign on this downhill section that turned out to be not very sharp at all! Still, if it kept riders safe, so be it.
Back down to relative flat near Traquair house, all that needed to be done was the 10 miles or so back to Peebles. For anyone riding them, they are not flat! Up down, up down and then a nasty little ramp near the end just to hurt the legs a little more. It was around here I ended up riding with a gent in a Kinross cycling club jersey. That gave us a little to talk about which helped me in towards our destination.

The finish line

Entering Peebles I was aware again of the organisation that goes into a closed road event. We were directed onto the right hand carriageway which was coned off so that the left hand side could still be used as a one way route for cars. Suddenly we were back in civilisation. We arrived back at the bridge and swung up and into the High Street. A burst for the finish line and then a sharp slow down so I could turn right down the close to the Green. I had forgotten to unclip so finding the way blocked wasn't useful. I came to a stop with my shoulder against the wall while I got my foot sorted out. A concerned marshal asked if I was ok. I assured them I was, climbed off and walked to the Green.

Crossing the line

It was here I picked up my medal  and then walked through the crowds and stalls before decking it was time to head home. Before I did though, I met my riding partner from the morning. As he had aimed just to finish he'd done really well and deserved his medal.
When I came to leave for the car park I realised I'd lost my sunglasses. I retraced my steps  to no avail.  Annoyed I cycled back to the car park where I packed up and headed back to Edinburgh. Despite the loss of my shades it had still been a great ride.

The ride

The one thing I haven't mentioned above is my complete delight at my time. Before I started I would have taken 6:15 as a total time. Perhaps that was overly cautious but with my lack of training and the amount of climbing I was more bothered about just finishing. So getting a time of 6:09 including the long wait above Talla I was more than happy.

Afterward

In hope more than expectation I emailed the organisers to see if my glasses had been found. They had! And they offered to post them back to me. They arrived wrapped in a buff in a bottle. What a perfect solution to posting them.