The Problem with Rolls...

... is that unless they're filled with bacon, you can end up passing on them. After my last 150 km ride, I was planning on riding a 200 km, then a 300 km, building up the distance, as it were. Unfortunately, other commitments meant that I couldn't spend my weekends cycling, and while I did manage to go out in the evening after work, this didn't involve anything longer than 40 km - hardly pushing the envelope.

After my "other commitments" were done and dusted, I thought "let's get back to it, Steve". I was idly discussing cycling with my dearly beloved and admitted that after last year's London-Edinburgh-London fracas, which was cancelled mid-way due to storm Floris (I did get a nice London-Floris-London jersey), I was feeling a bit deflated. The wind had been taken very much out of my sails. I idly mentioned to Jill "It's Paris-Brest-Paris next year, you know..." "That's nice dear...", replied Jill. I then went on to explain my sense of deflation and she said "Well, if you want to do it, you should". In to that I read "Go for it!", although it was probably more like "Great, give me some peace and quiet". Anyway, PBP, unlike LEL requires some qualifying events, namely a 200, 300, 400 and 600 "BRM" in the same season, prior to PBP in August. "BRM" is Brevet des Randonneurs Mondiaux, the series of events overseen by "Audax Club Parisien". You can also "pre-qualify" (or at least it gives your application a bit more clout, if you ride a "Super Randonneur" series (as above), the year prior to PBP, so I thought maybe I might aim for that.

So, having completely failed to "build up" the distance gradually, I went for the "in for a penny, in for a pond" approach, and entered the "Brevet Cymru" 400 km Audax on the 2nd of May. Four Hundred and Five kilometres and 5,050 metres (16,500 feet) of climbing. In truth, I have ridden the event before, in 2023, prior to my ride across Europe. I probably said "never again" after I finished it then, but time tends to wipe the bad memories and leave only the good ones.

The weekend prior to the event, I decided to take all of the bits off of my blue Cannondale and swap them with the bits on my white Cannondale, and vice-versa, mostly because the blue one was looking a bit tatty, but had better components (and lower gears!). I spend Saturday doing this, then as a shakedown ride on Sunday I rode out tom Bridgnorth and back.

Only 125 km, but that's all I had time for. I hadn't really "planned" it anyway. I had planned to do a 200 km, but due to a late night on Saturday, it would have to do. At least it wouldn't hold any surprises, as I've ridden the roads many times. The bike felt good anyway. It felt like I was really flying, although Strava reliably brought be back down to earth by telling me my average speed was only 13.3 mph.

I "flew " out to Bridgnorth, had a cauliflower cheese soup in Bishop Percy's house, flew across for a cuppa at the mother-in-law, and flew home.

I only managed one evening ride during the week, then it was the big one, Brevet Cymru:

As the start was in Chepstow at 0600, I opted for a Travelodge, the evocatively named "Travelodge Bristol Severn View M48". It couldn't be any worse that the previous occasion I rode the Brevet Cymru, where I'd booked an AirBnB in a pub, which had a karaoke event late in to the evening. On that occasion I cut my losses, chucked everything in the car and went to the Travelodge anyway.

I laid everything out ready the previous night, so that when the alarm went off at 0430 it was a simple matter to grab a coffee, eat my "porridge in a pot" and head over the (old) Severn Bridge to the start in Chepstow.

After the customary pre-event briefing, a couple of dozen cyclists wobbled off up the hill towards Chepstow racecourse. It was pretty cold to start, only 5 or six degrees, but I soon warmed up climning the hill out of Chepstow, before then dropping down towards Tintern. I was hopeful of taking an atmospheric photograph of Tintern Abbey, but alas, it was shrouded in murk and it wasn't until further up the Wye Valley when the fog started to burn off.

For those of a musical disposition, the photo above was just past Rockfield Studios, where some of the most influential artists have recorded some of the most influential music.

We continued up the river Wye valley, then the Golden Valley to Hay on Wye, site of the renowned international book festival. By this time, the sun was out and it was warming up, 15 degrees, but the wind had a cold edge to it. After a hot chocolate and a bacon bap at the control, I decided to get my legs out and took off my leg warmers. 

We crossed the Wye again at Glasbury, where the kayakers were out in force for a day "messing around on the river".

From there, across to Builth Wells, Llanwrtyd Wells, gradually climbing up to 1,000 feet of altitude, before plummeting back down to 300 at Llandovery. The West End Cafe was a control here, and again later. After a sausage roll and some crumble, I was soon back out on the road again, next for the next big climb, or two, out to Lampeter. From Lampeter to Tregaron, the promised rain began, spotting at first, then becoming more steady, but not full-on "Welsh" rain. Tregaron was another control, so I bought a bottle of chocolate milk and a muffin and sat in the square to eat it. I put a long-sleeve top, overshoes and my Goretex on too, as I knew the rain was only likely to get harder. From Tregaron the next leg was to New Quay, a relentlessly hilly, up and down section, made much less enjoyable by the rain. I rolled in to New Quay at about 7pm and tucked in to a baked potato with beef chilli. That hit the spot.

I put my leg warmers back on here, ready for the night-stage. There's a steep hill out of New Quay and i suffered a little with "Cafe Legs", the sensation you get post-cafe where you've cooled down a little and everything stiffens up. The Stretch from New Quay across to Llandovery for a second call at the West-End cafe was hard work. It was dark now, and the rain-induced murk had returned, limiting speed, even on the downhills, as you were never quite sure where the next pothole was lurking, ready to swallow up your front wheel. The altitude also hovered at around 1,000 feet, but with plenty of climbing.

Eventually the route linked up with the outbound root and the drop down to Llandovery was fast and cold. The cafe was full of sodden, sleepy cyclists. It was 11pm, but they'd agreed to stay open until 2am to feed all the hungry mouths. I tucked in to a bowl of broccoli soup and discussed the final 100 km from Llandovery back to Chepstow with a lady who was a little worse for wear. She was contemplating getting a taxi back, as she'd had enough of the dark, the fog and the rain and freely admitted to not enjoying herself. I tried to convince here that the route wasn't quite so bad from here; there was a long stretch on the A40, which would be awful during the day, but past midnight is always pretty much deserted. I'm not sure if she did take a taxi, but I did notice one overtake me on the way to Brecon.

From Brecon the route went down the B road through Talybont on Usk to Llangattock,  the last control at 350 km. There were some mats in the town hall and a few people were having a sleep, but I sat at a table, ate some rice pudding, drank a coffee and nodded off with my head on my arms. It was only a cat-nap, as I woke soon later and set off again at about 4am for the final 50 km to the Arivee at Chepstow. Again, these roads are familiar to me, having ridden them many times before, but this never prepares me for the final climb from Usk up the B4235. This climb never fails to demoralise, especially with 380 km in your legs. Once that climb was done, it was a fast descent back in to Chepstow and the "finish line", where I had to make a purchase as "proof of passage", take a photo of the receipt and email it to the organiser. A breakfast in Greggs seemed like a good option to me!

This was only the third 400 km Audax I've ever done and it's confirmed that 400 km is the least pleasant distance. You have 27 hours to complete the distance and unless you are fast enough to "bank" some time (I'm not), then there's little opportunity to sleep. This event took me 24 hours and 59 minutes to complete. I'm sure I was faster last time, but there again, the weather was nicer. Nevertheless, note to self - not riding the Brevet Cymru ever again!