The cyclocross season kicked off this weekend with the 45th annual 3
Peaks Cyclocross event. The 38 mile route takes in three of Yorkshire’s
major peaks – Ingleborough, Whernside and Pen-Y-Ghent – with hefty
stretches of steep climbing and technical descending, linked by three
rolling road sections. As it’s a cyclocross race (albeit the toughest
one on the UK calendar), the ability to move quickly over rough terrain
with your bike on your back is as important as your riding skill.
Traditionally those riders who also happen to be handy fell runners get
home first, and this year proved no exception. After a rather fast but
still neutralised start, we headed straight up the side of Ingleborough.
This climb is legendary – the pitch is such that at its steepest point
you find yourself scrambling up knee-high steps using the wire fence
alongside to haul yourself up the hill. It soon becomes apparent that
running skills are a very useful thing indeed to have here – half the
field is immediately up and away to the summit like a pack of lurid
mountain goats, leaving the rest of us ‘normal’ riders huffing and
puffing along behind them cursing our lack of appropriate training. As
we gain altitude, we break through the base of the cloud cover and
visibility starts to diminish – there follows a strange suspension of
time and distance as we pedal through what feel like endless drifts of
wet grey cotton wool, handing in a tag at the summit (so that the
organisers – and Mountain Rescue – know each rider’s been through each
checkpoint) before starting the descent down to Ingleton.
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I’m very much more at home here and start to pass riders quickly – my
tyres are up to 95psi, so I can concentrate on riding rather than
worrying about pinch flats. Popping out of the cloud and seeing the
valley floor below is a lovely, if brief experience – the rocks and wet
grass demand full attention, but I make it safely to the bottom without
incident and tackle the first chunk of road to Whernside. It’s not a
great deal of fun – draggy ‘cross tyres are tough going on tarmac, and I
only realise afterwards that some of the faster riders are switching to
a bike with proper road tyres for these bits, saving themselves minutes
per leg – but it’s over soon enough. Whernside, though technically not
as brutal a climb as Ingleborough, is tough going for those of us with
relatively short legs as the majority of the path is stone-clad
staircase – the Stairway to Heaven, as one kindly marshall put it – but
with treads which are well above knee-high in places. The main men’s
field, which starts 30 minutes after the women and vets, has started to
pass by this point – the leader and eventual 6th-time winner, Rob Jebb
(Wheelbase), flying by back on the road – and the speed with which they
tackle the incline is inspiring.
Second tag handed in, I scoff some food whilst pedaling down a surreal
and empty trail. We’ve climbed into the cloud again, so all I can see
around me are a few metres of path, a big empty hole of mist-filled air
to the right, and no other riders at all. Thankfully I catch someone
soon enough but not before the demons of lostness arrive on my shoulder.
The descent from Whernside is part stone pavement (think rough, wet
paving slabs laid end on end, with the occasional stepped section and
drainage ditch to keep you on your toes), part loose boulder field, and
part dodge-the-belligerent-rambler. The event is held on open trails,
and nobody is obliged to get out of your way, but it can be hard to
concurrrently look down at what you’re riding over and ahead at what
you’re about to ride into… Clatter down the final stone staircase,
dropping my Oakley charm on the way, and it’s two safely down, one to go.
Riding beneath the awesome Ribblehead Viaduct is humbling, but there’s
no time to stop and soak up the atmosphere as Pen-Y-Ghent looms after
six more miles of tarmac. This is a lonely experience – the field is
very strung out, and I ride the majority of the six miles against a
sapping and gusty headwind entirely alone. Spinning into
Horton-In-Ribblesdale, the climb ahead is fully visible and I can see
the tiniest specks of bright lycra already making their way over the
upper half. It’s a huge lump of a hill, very intimidating, and I’m
thankful when the climb quickly steepens enough to allow me not to feel
too bad about getting off and carrying the rest of the way.
As I near the final push, I see the leading ladies for the first and
only time. Isla Rowntree (Stourbridge CC/Parker international/Wrap) and
then Heather Dawe (Crosstrax) pass me, already on their way back down
the hill towards the finish (riders climb and then descend the same path
on Pen-Y-Ghent). The sun comes out as I hand over my final summit
tag and I get the briefest glance at an astonishingly large view before
I’m dropped into what feels like a rock-filled tumble drier. I’ve been
carefully looking at lines on my way up and now the climb is reversed,
the attention has paid off. There are steep rock steps to tackle, more
loose rubble, some interestingly fast corners and loads of stone-clad
drainage ditches to bunnyhop – all whilst avoiding the majority of the
main field, who are now making their way up the lower half of the climb.
It’s all great fun and I’m sad when it ends, though very glad the finish
is soon in sight at the end of the road. My hands and arms are wrecked,
legs wasted and head wobbly from four and a half hours of concentration
– but the great feeling of elation at crossing the line in a good third place
behind Isla and Heather. Not bad when I’d been wanting only to finish and then
hopefully within five hours, is amazing. It’s been a race of firsts –
first race on gears, first ‘cross race, first 3 Peaks – and a thoroughly
enjoyable success. I’ll definitely be back next year for more, and maybe
– just maybe – doing some running before then…
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