Uphill battles of a biking bottler

18 LET’S BE HONEST. I do not possess a grim determination. And when I read Arrivée magazine, I am frequently in awe of the resolve and fortitude displayed by so many of my fellow riders. In terms of Audax exploits, I am very much at the lower end.

But I love riding my bike. Being part of the Audax world has inspired me to take small steps towards realising some of the untapped potential that I must surely possess. I also love collecting badges. I’ve been on the trail of the Audax Altitude Award since 2015. I started with a local event, the Winchcombe Falling Leaves, run by the Winchcombe Cycling Club. It was classed as a bronze medal Audax with 1.75 AAA points attributed to it. I found it really tough but it started me on the path towards a target of 20 AAA points and a new badge for my collection. Thankfully there is no time limit on collecting the points. U p h i l l b a t l e s o f a b i k i n g b o t l e r In the following years I managed to ride and complete a handful of AAA events, including silver and gold Grimpeur rides. There were a few failures along the way. I was just too slow. Hills, I discovered, are hard and painful. In many of these rides I would inevitably be among the last to finish, and I can’t say any were particularly enjoyable, even in hindsight. The blurred memories were just as painful.

But if I wanted the award, the only way was up, so this year I entered the Falling Leaves Audax for the sixth time to try to nudge my points tally to within striking distance of the ultimate – the Audax Altitude Award.

My training went a little awry as I’d booked a holiday that would see me return to the UK only the day before the ride. Plus, to avoid spoiling my holiday with any random injuries, I stopped riding a week before I went When the going gets tough, Tim Harrison gets going… usually home. This year,

the self-confessed fatalist and “full

value rider”, was determined to set his sights higher and shake off that bottler’s badge of shame, as he headed for the hilly Cotswolds in search of an Audax Altitude Award Badges of honour… Tim likes to collect them and wears them with pride – and why not? ❝ The Audax world has inspired me to take small steps towards realising some of the untapped potential that I must surely possess.

❞ ❝ In many of these rides I would inevitably be among the last to finish, and I can’t say any were particularly enjoyable, even in hindsight.

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away. Three weeks of no cycling with relaxation, excessive food and drink resulted in a feeling of mellow lethargy and some extra kilos weight. Not ideal preparation.

The weather forecast was also not great for the event with wind and rain being predicted. I was all set to pretend I’d got the dates mixed up and give it a miss when the organiser sent out an email containing these words: Don’t bottle because of the weather – we expect you all to make it!

I persuaded my wife to drive me the 10 kilometres to the start so I could have an extra twenty minutes in bed. Now you see why I describe myself as being at the lower end of the Audax scale – this is not aspirational mentality.

The Falling Leaves Audax has always been well-organised, and each year it gets better. This year there was a warm Scout building (not a hut – we are, after all, in the Cotswolds), a good selection of refreshments, and toilets.

In addition, a village hall had been hired for a control at the 35 kilometre mark. This had a generous supply of home-made cakes, bananas, tea and coffee – and toilets. To round things off at the end of the ride the Scout building provided literally gallons of delicious home-made soups, baguettes and even more homemade cake. Lots of effort from the organisers which, for me, makes a big difference to my level of enjoyment. The route had also been tweaked, missing out some of the more touristy Cotswold hotspots, so less swerving to avoid selfie stick-toting tourists.

We were briefed at the start that some of the roads might be a little tricky and the organiser again said a few words which stayed with me: “If you bottle it make sure you call me and let me know”. I do give up on things easily and have often been a DNF, but somehow I didn’t want to be classed as a bottler this time.

The ride itself is tough – the first climb of the day is within 500 metres of the start. It was at this point that I started to think that driving to the start wasn’t such a good idea – a 10k ride would have warmed me up nicely. Now, following three weeks of luxury and relaxation, my heart was beating at 181bpm and I felt like I was about to explode.

The jolly banter at the start was over within seconds and I found myself making a natural migration to the back of the field. Three kilometres in and I was on my own – not ideal as I enjoy company to take my mind off things. However, I knew I had to continue. I could not bottle it.

There are some shockingly bad surfaces and heavy rain had left mud, stones and debris everywhere. It was a challenge to stay on the bike in places and, predictably I started to pass small groups of riders fixing punctures. At 15 kilometres I passed a lone rider trying to change a tube. I asked if he needed any help, expecting the usual “no thanks” so I could continue on my way and stay within time, but he said yes, he would like help. His pump was useless and one of his two spare tubes had no valve. I did what I could and then discovered he had no route sheet or GPS so I effectively “captured” a companion for the rest of the ride. Hills, hills and more hills, and then my companion had another puncture. I carry patches but couldn’t find the puncture hole, so gave him one of my two spare tubes. I was distracted by thoughts of what would happen if he had another puncture? Would I give him my last spare tube? What happens if I then have a puncture? What would a good person do? To avoid this situation I needed to leave him but I couldn’t because he had no route knowledge. I had to continue the ride with these niggling moral dilemmas.

At the 60k control I explained that we were slow because my companion had suffered multiple punctures. But the Winchcombe Cycling Club had me pegged. “Sounds like you’re playing a blame game,” they said. What’s happened to me? I’m a bottler, trying to blame others while thinking of ways I can ditch my companion so I can indeed bottle it.

Fortunately our luck held, no more punctures and we even managed to catch up to a German husband and wife team who had come over from Stuttgart to ride the Audax. His wife was celebrating her birthday. This was her reward – Cotswold climbing. I asked her how she was enjoying her birthday and she replied: “I’ve known better”.

The weather stayed dry, the route and scenery were excellent, the captured company was great and the event was extremely well executed. If you want to try earning AAA points then this a good place to give it a go, very friendly, lots of food and drink and beautiful scenery. And I didn’t bottle it. ❝ …I’m a bottler, trying to blame others while thinking of ways I can ditch my companion so I can indeed bottle it

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